#this isn't too serious this is about my college roommate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chloeangelic · 5 months

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the paper salesman

Brother's best friend!Jim Halpert x f!reader Rating: 18+ My masterlist I Max's masterlist

Summary: You spot your childhood crush at a birthday party and end up in his room together.

Warnings: Smut, AU where Pam does not exist, alcohol, oral (f receiving), handjob, semi protected PIV, creampie, squirting.

A/N: Well, well, well, if it isn't me and my froggy friend @macfrog back with another fic. But this time, it's not satire - this one is actually serious, and we are taking full advantage of everyone's teenage crush on season 2 Jim.

Word count: 6k

You pick at the edge of your wine glass, nodding along as the sound of your brother’s girlfriend talking about work turns into a low, buzzing sort of hum, indistinguishable from the other voices in the room. It seems that turning thirty was the catalyzing event for your older brother’s birthday parties to turn from all-nighters at clubs to barbecues at his new house. The attendance changed too — what used to be a crowd of girls in tight, short dresses has been replaced by a landscape of coworkers and childhood friends that he has reconnected with over the past year.

There’s a couple people singing karaoke by the TV across the room, and although neither of them are singing in tune, you cheer them on as you half-heartedly listen to your future sister-in-law’s story. People are scattered around in groups of two, three, or four, chatting amongst themselves against the tapestry of multicolored string lights and framed photos. You can’t imagine your brother had much to do with the interior design choices, and assume Stacie took him to the department store and filled a shopping cart with lights and lamps and frames that would make the living space for two thirty-year-old men a little less bland and sterile.

But still, despite the obvious decorative touch of Mark’s girlfriend around the room – you can’t help but wonder which parts were chosen by his roommate.

Jim Halpert – your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember. Six-foot-something, polite and awkwardly charming. Lingering on your front steps to walk with Mark to school, backpack slung over one shoulder, or waiting patiently in the kitchen doorway while your brother finishes eating dinner, a basketball sat in the ‘c’ of his elbow. Making a whole lot of nothing conversation with your mom about school, about how his brothers were doing, growing bashful when she’d bring up girlfriends.

He’s five years older than you, but that ten-year-old ghost of yourself would sit twirling the fork in her fingers, mindlessly dragging mashed potato around her plate. Watching the way he’d toss the flicks of fringe from his eyes, cross one foot over the other as he answered every incessant question of your mother’s with the dutiful respect of a well-raised boy. Your crush was obvious back then, easily spotted by her whenever Jim stayed for dinner. You’d look away, bite back your smile and try to stifle your laugh at his jokes, hoping he wouldn’t notice. That little crush stayed with you, despite the boys you went on to date in high school, and the ones you slept with and tried to get serious with in college to no avail. Every time you came back from the holidays, Jim would inevitably show up for dinner one day, and you would revert back to that shy ten-year-old, sitting in the same seats as you did back then.

You watched him become a man in front of your eyes, and by the time you started getting physical with your first boyfriend, little thoughts began to weasel themselves into your mind about Jim. It was entirely inappropriate, and that curiosity should have directed itself exclusively to the boy who had taken you out to the movies, to prom and to homecoming, but you wondered what Jim looked like shirtless, you wondered about his experience, about the size of his cock. One weekend in your freshman year of college, with nothing else to do but to visit your parents, you tagged along with Mark to his basketball game, and sat on the bleachers with your eyes glued to Jim, to the sweat that darkened his jersey and the undeniable bulge in his shorts. He came up to say hi after, his brown hair drenched with sweat as well, looking at you through stunning green eyes as he asked how school was going. You made him laugh with a story about a professor, and the sound of his chuckles echoed in your mind the rest of the night. He had moved out of his parents’ house by then, and started working as a salesman at a paper company in town.

He still works there – as far as you know, at least, based on what he told you the last time you saw him, picking him and Mark up from their high school reunion two years back.

Mark had drank a little too much and had needed Jim’s steady arm around his shoulder to direct him to your car. You swallowed down the butterflies which quickly took flight in your stomach as you watched the two figures stumble towards your Honda, the taller of the two lending you a small smile as he slotted your brother into the front seat. You kept your composure right up until he closed the front door, and then you sped all the way home with your heart racing and your blood pumping.

“Some people are just allergic to receiving help,” Stacie announces, yelling a little over the screeching of the karaoke mics. She’s rambling to one of Mark’s coworkers – Hal? Sal? – about one of her co-workers, some new kid fresh from college who can’t work the printer by himself and refuses to let her show him.

You’re about to get up for a refill when a weight slides onto the couch by your side, nudging you with a sweatered elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he mutters, and when you turn, your breath catches at the sight of those familiar green eyes and flicks of brown hair.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers awkwardly lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear. You feel a heat flush into your cheeks and pray it doesn’t show in an embarrassing dewy glow to Jim. “Cool party. Karaoke’s a nice touch.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, giving you his signature smirk. His voice is so deep, a little husky even, as he sits close, “It’s an easy way to keep the guests entertained without me having to do much of anything, or your brother, for that matter.”

You hum in response, reluctantly annoyed that Mark is already at the front of his mind when he sees you. “Are you still working that paper job?”, you ask, raising an eyebrow and hoping that your nerves don’t come across, that he’ll simply consider you as flirty to everyone if your attempts don’t land.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, picking at the label of his beer bottle for a moment.

“Salesman of the year?”

“Well,” he chuckles, his head tilting to the side, a little unsure, “Maybe sometimes.” Is he embarrassed? Shy? You watch his eyes as they flicker up and scan the room. “What are you up to these days?”, he asks when his eyes land back on you, flaring open for a split second before they settle on yours.

“You know,” you shrug, eyes looping once around the room, “Working, the usual.” You feel your chest tighten with an urge to come up with something more fucking interesting than work. Your fingers hooked behind your ear again, you sputter, “Got my hair done last week.”

Jim smiles, reassuringly so. “Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I can tell. It looks good. I like the, uh –”, he points a little haphazardly, “The way you styled it. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks swell in a genuine smile, averting his gaze as the compliment seeps into your skin. You twirl the stem of your glass in your fingers, and Jim knocks a knuckle against the rim.

“You need a top up?”, he asks, standing up.

“Yeah, actually,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it and pulling yourself to your feet.

You follow him through to the kitchen, dodging the erratic arm movements of some guy chittering to Mark about stocks, and over to the fridge. You lean your hip against the counter, watching as Jim carefully refills your wine and slides it back across to you.

You take a tentative sip under his watchful gaze, and raise your eyebrows, nodding subtly in approval as you swallow, “This is pretty good. What’s a guy like you doing with decent wine in his fridge?”

He lets out a nervous laugh and looks around, takes a sip of the glass he poured himself. “I actually got it for a, uh- a date, a couple weeks ago,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, looking out through the dining room, “She said it was good so I figured I’d get some for tonight.”

Oof. A tinge of jealousy makes your stomach curl, and you take another large sip, forcing it down as you think of what to say. You can still hear the out of tune melodies from the living room, though the silence between you and Jim drowns out the noise. “What did you do?”, you ask, hoping you can mask your jealousy with a sneaky tone.

“Took her to dinner a few times, walked around a bit, came back here and had some wine.”

You want to gag, just a little bit. “And how come she’s not here tonight then?”

“Didn’t really, uh– didn’t really work out, so…”

“So you’re just sitting here day in and day out with her wine in the fridge, waiting for her to come back?”

Jim breathes a laugh, pushing the air from his cheeks, “Alright. Wow. That one stung.”

You giggle, taking a step closer, “I’m just messing with you,” you say into your glass. Each splash of alcohol over your tongue filling you with more courage.

He tilts his head, eyebrows cocked, “Tell me about your love life, then, up on your high horse.”

You stifle another girlish giggle, using it to mask your reaction to the awkward question. Your love life – if you could even call it that – has been even more miserable than Jim’s sounds. Messages left on read, painful first dates with jocks still stuck in their high school eras, with uptight career men who only cared to talk about themselves, or with guys who had weird hobbies and left you to pay the bill for a date they asked you on.

You’ve gotten good at avoiding the topic with your mom, turning it instead into conversation about Mark and Stacie, framing it into a question of, When are they thinking of getting married? Having kids of their own, right, Mom?, but standing in front of the one guy you’ve been shamelessly crushing on since you were ten years old – it becomes a little harder to divert.

“Uh,” you mumble, the rim of your glass balanced on your bottom lip, “I’m – I’m just taking some time to myself right now, you know? Focusing on me.”

He grins, almost gleeful. Electricity pulses through your veins. “Nice save,” he tells you, tipping his glass towards you, “I hear what you’re really saying.”

“Oh?”

“Yep,” he says, matter-of-factly, “You also got dumped at Red Lobster.”

You snort, then apologize, closing your eyes and trying to stifle your grin as you try to collect yourself. “Red lobster,” you clear your throat, “That’s pretty bad. At least it wasn’t Chili’s. And I would know, cause I got dumped at Chili’s.”

The two of you keep it together for a few moments, looking at the floor, until you meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, having this absolutely pathetic little thing in common. The sound of his laugh makes your chest flutter, the sight of his smile and his hand running through his hair. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he looks at you, and you bite the tip of your tongue, trying to halt the uncontrollable giggles that make your stomach hurt.

When you’re composed, a couple more swigs of wine down your throat, you settle back against the counter and say, “So. When’s the tour leaving?”

Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”

You nod, “House tour. Mark hasn’t shown me around yet. The most I’ve seen is your downstairs bathroom.”

He scoffs. Pushes off from the counter, the wine in his glass splashing, “He’s a terrible host. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Your heels click along the tile floor as you squeeze between bodies, heading for the hallway where Jim pauses. “Bathroom,” he says, nodding to the door right by the stairs, “But you already knew that.” He steps back against the wall at the first step, holding a hand out to usher you up first. “Ladies first,” he says, smiling genially.

You snort, but waltz by his body, holding onto the handrail as you climb the stairs carefully, the alcohol mixed with your shoe choice making it a dangerous feat. Jim’s close behind, footsteps slowly echoing your own, and you can’t help but think of the tight, short skirt of your dress, the way it hugs your thighs, the placement of his gaze as he wanders up behind you.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around at the assortment of doors, waiting for Jim to tell you which room serves as the first stop. You can sense him right behind you, slightly to your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking down at you, swallowing slowly. “Mark’s room,” he says, nodding to the right and waiting until you look up at him before he takes a step over and opens the door. He lets you peek inside, look around until you nod and step back, before he urges you forward, towards another door.

“Upstairs bathroom,” he remarks, and you give the room a similar examination, noticing the streak-free mirror.

“Looks… clean,” you say, as if there’s anything better to say about a typical bathroom. He gives a muttered thanks in return, then points to the last door.

“And that’s my room.”

“May I?”, you grin, then step fully inside, looking around at his bed, his dresser, and finally, his desk. You sit down in the office chair and give it a test spin, before your attention is caught by the art on the wall. “What’s this?”, you ask, while he steps in as well, hesitating for a second as he looks at the door, opting to leave it open before he comes over and sits down on his bed.

Jim’s head wobbles as he searches for an answer. “It’s – well, it’s – you know. It’s…a print that I…liked.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Not a clue,” he responds, quick as a bullet. “I saw it at a yard sale – thought it went with the colors of my bedsheets. That’s how interior design works, right?”

You smile, “Sure. You’re no Stacie, but – sure.”

Jim nods. Your eye is drawn to the dip in the bed where he sits, the weight of his wide frame on the mattress. His open thighs, his elbows resting on his knees, wine swirling as he slowly rocks the glass. He slowly lifts it to his lips, taking a sip without breaking your stare.

You cross your legs by instinct. Your skirt rides a little higher. Jim glances down, and then straight back up. You can feel your blood thrumming through every limb, every part of your body sensitized and alight. It doesn’t help any when he stands from the bed and wanders over, towering over you as he looks at something on the desk.

He reaches over your shoulder, and you can smell his cologne on his sweater, sharp and fresh, a hint of something sweeter. He pulls a photo frame from the shelf behind you and turns it around.

“Graduation,” he says, and your eyes are drawn down to the cheesy grins of him and your brother, donned in black mortarboards and sweeping gowns.

You nod, pretending you’re paying attention. But he’s so close that his jeans rub against your bare legs, so close that you’re staring up just to meet his eye. Your palms begin to perspire, his voice turning into a blur as he points to a couple other frames, photos of people you didn’t recognize in places you couldn’t quite place. The rest of your wine is downed in a single sip, the glass carefully placed behind you, on the surface of his desk.

Jim seems to have finished recounting memories to you, but he doesn’t move. Stays stood over you, his own drink forgotten on the floor by his bed. A silence falls between you – but not the thick, awkward kind of silence you’re used to around guys. It’s lighter, it’s breathable. It swirls around your limbs like the fluttering feeling in your belly, wraps tightly around them and pushes you to your feet, the back of Jim’s chair rocking against his desk.

You’re eye-to-eye, your chest pushing gently against his. He glances down to your lips, wet with wine and the dabbing of your tongue, and then back up. He leans in, curving around your shoulders to set the photo frame still in his hand back on the desk. When he straightens up again, your hands find his chest.

You stare at one another, seemingly a thousand words exchanged between your soft, drunken gaze and his – and yet, none of them pass your lips. There’s a weight on your waist – Jim’s hands either side of your body, squeezing the tight fabric of your dress. You tilt your head, moving closer, lips parting. And he leans in.

He kisses you, slow at first. Your hands lift to cup his jaw, steady yourself on the weight of him. All of your past selves begin to bubble to the surface, each one lighting your skin, pulling on every nerve. Jim feels warm, his lips wet and sweet from the alcohol. Your nails sift through his hair, tugging gently as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. He groans lightly, seemingly as hungry for you as you are for him, holding himself back, handling you with a care and gentleness you hope he might set aside. You’ve wanted him for so long and you’ll let him do anything, you want all of him, you want him to ravage you and fuck you until you stumble down the staircase and until you can never look your brother in the eyes.

There’s a smashing sound from downstairs and a squeal, followed by a chorus of disappointment from the other guests. It splits the two of you apart, bumping teeth as your lips disconnect. You’re both panting, hot breath occupying the space between you. You can feel the hardness of his bulge pushing against you, and your arousal building, spreading to the tips of your breasts as your nipples harden. He’s huge, you can already tell, and you swallow around a lump in your throat, trying not to think of how long it’s been since you felt a man inside of you.

Jim smiles, still holding you close to his body. Your hands wrap around his wrists, and you lean into him again to whisper, “I think we should close the door.”

He nods, and steps back to let you by. You close the door slowly, letting it thud into place as quiet as you can, despite the obvious chaos happening downstairs. When you step back towards him, his eyes are on yours, hands reaching out to pull you closer, one around your waist and one around the nape of your neck, letting you melt into his hold while he locks his lips with yours. You hope he can’t feel the rapid beating of your heart or the dampness of your skin, letting your hands fall to the edge of his pants and starting to fumble with the button.

You start to unzip his jeans while he walks you back towards his bed, licking into your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip. You slip a hand down over his clothed cock, carefully palming it and feeling the girth and contours against your skin. He lets out a slight grunt at your touch, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass cheek through your dress, his large hand grabbing your flesh and kneading it with the aggression you’ve been hoping for, just a hint of it coming through in the firmness of his grasp.

He reaches the bed as you draw your hand out of his pants and dip your fingers behind his waistband, feeling the goosebumps spreading across his skin, grabbing hold of the stretchy fabric and lifting it up, over his erection, pulling it down alongside his pants to see his cock hanging free, flushed and wet at the tip. You bite his lip before you pull back to look, and can’t help a whimper escaping your throat as you brush your fingertips along his length. It feels endless, long veins bulging out that you trace with your nails. He's so thick, wide at the root, all the way to the tip. He can't possibly fit inside but you clench at the thought of him trying. Another pearly bead of precome spills out from his slit at your touch, and with his hands still grasping your neck and the meat of your ass, you gently rub the pad of your thumb over this head, feeling the slick slide of his spend beneath your finger, then wrap your hand around him, fingertips not even close to meeting, and stroke him slowly.

Your breaths are shallow, rapid, and when you feel your mouth start to water at the sight of his cock sliding through your hand, Jim pulls you back in to kiss you, grunting and groaning while your hand slides rhythmically up and down, making him throb with arousal. He moves his hips, fucking into your grasp with hushed moans that send your head spinning, your cunt pulsing.

Jim begins to peel the dress from your shoulders, slipping the fabric down until your breasts are exposed, the chilly edge of the air hardening your nipple. He pauses, watches the rhythmic movements of your soft, supple tits as your hand pumps up and down, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. His fingers dig deep beneath the ruffled fabric, tugging it lower and lower until he’s lifting your hips, disturbing the lace of your panties as he discards the dress to the floor.

You pause as he strips the sweater from his shoulders, tossing it to some corner of the room before he’s back on you, the slick tip of his dick leaving sticky trails on your lower stomach.

“You’re so, so good at that,” he murmurs against your lips, sentence broken in two by another hot, wet kiss. Your eyes roll at the taste of him, the strength of his tongue against yours, the hunger with which he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, letting it go only to fill your mouth with himself again. You push at the edge of his jeans and boxers, bunching them up in your hands and tugging at them until he takes over, bringing you with him while he takes them off, leaving him bare and you in only your little scrap of fabric you call your panties.

He pulls you in as he sits down on the bed, placing you on his lap, letting you wind your hips, dragging the silky lace of your thong up along his hard length while you lick across his tongue, while you swallow his saliva and feel the ridges of his cock bumping against your clit. At the sound of your whimpers, he picks you up in his arms, lays you down on his bed, and settles between your legs, leaving wet kisses up and down your neck, trailing down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and licking it slowly. Your back arches, the slick of your arousal beginning to seep out into the panties he teases with his fingers, hooking them under the thin straps and slowly pulling at them as his lips trail down between your tits, slowly over your stomach, reaching the very top of your mound before he drags the straps over your thighs to reveal you for him.

You open your legs and Jim presses into the underside of your thighs, pushing them wider. His eyes focus on the sight of you, spread open in front of him, his tongue lifting to run along his lips. You sit up on your elbows, glossy eyes watching as he leans in, a trail of kisses dotted along the seam of your thigh, until his lips are hovering over your throbbing cunt.

“Jim,” you whisper, sifting your fingers through his hair, moving it from his face.

He looks up and you share a glance, a message sent wordlessly from your eyes to his. A smirk pulls across his lips, reading your mind instantly. He lowers his jaw and his tongue drags a long, soaking stripe up your slit.

Your grip tightens in his hair, head thrown back to the blue sheets. Your throat catches a lewd moan before it has a chance to cut through the air, exposing you both to the guests downstairs. Sorry, you whisper, but he shakes his head. “You don't have to be quiet,” he reassures, leaving his gaze on you as he leans back and gives your clit a few wet licks, kicking up your sensitivity and making you clench. He must be able to tell, because just as you tilt your head back into the pillow while he kisses and licks at the part of you most sensitive and needy for his attention, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, stretching you gently as he curls them. He presses into a spot so tender you can't catch the moans spilling out between your lips, begging for more when you're already so close, having fantasized about this for years – his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside of you, softening you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, so much thicker and longer than you could imagine, big and hard and bound to let you feel him tomorrow.

He begins to suckle, swirling his tongue until you grip his hair and moan that you're close, so close, and he releases you from his mouth, still sliding his fingers slowly in and out, moving to place kisses to the inside of your thigh. You let out a huff, and hear a faint chuckle from between your legs, licking and kissing at your skin, right beside your outer folds, close to where you need him.

Another wave of arousal crashes through you when he makes contact with your clit again, a wet drag of his tongue making you whimper and pull at his hair harder, trying to keep him right where he is until he lets you come. Jim pulls around your clit, lips sucking and tongue flicking as his fingers pump in and out, winding your orgasm like the tide withdrawing, only to let it crash forward in a flood of pleasure.

Your back arches, breath freezes to nothing in your throat until your climax passes, washing over you in heavy, shuddering ripples. You pant, your chest heaving as you look down at the smile on his face, the evidence of your satisfaction glistening on his lips.

Jim pushes himself up from the mattress, knees planting firm between your open legs, fisting his cock over you. You blink the room back into focus slowly, feeling the bed dip by your ear. He settles on top of you, looking down to guide his cock to your needy and spent sex. His tip presses against your hole, sensitive and soaking, and he glances back up.

“Jim?”, you whisper, chest heaving when you feel the subtle intrusion at your opening.

“Yeah?”

“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me.”

Mhmm, he teases the tip around your entrance, lets the thick head of him slide up to your clit before he glides back down, gently pushing in, a tiny little bit of pressure, not enough to make you wince but groan instead, hating and loving how he teases you. Another push, his tip lodged inside, stretching you open further than you thought possible, while your pussy drools down his shaft, sucking him in and covering him in your wetness. He grunts quietly, not immune to the wet, warm clutch he’s sinking into, inch by inch, while you wrap your hands around his jaw, looking into his bright green eyes, lids hooded, breaking the eye contact to glance down at where he enters you, letting out a breathy moan when you suck him all the way in and he reaches your cervix. He hisses when he retracts, gliding out so slowly, covered in your shiny slick.

You arch your back when he reaches the end of you again, leaning down onto his elbows so his lips can press into your neck, kissing you like he has all the time in the world, little licks to your skin while he glides out and presses back into you, letting you adjust to his size, making space for himself and soothing you as you’re overwhelmed by him. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, tilting your hips slightly upward to let him reach deeper, moaning his name and incoherent curses, grabbing the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, feeling your clit rub against his pelvis, bringing you closer so slowly you barely notice it happening.

You lower your arms, slipping your hands under his and lacing your fingers. Your knees bend, resting against his ribcage. With each brush of his hair against your clit, he moves faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. Tiny yelps leave your mouth the more he fucks you, the more the bed rocks, the headboard knocking against the wall. Your head turns, moaning delicately into his ear as he sucks on your skin.

“I know,” he whispers against your pulse, “You feel so good, sweetheart. So tight around me.”

“Jim,” you’re whining, gasping for air each time he pushes all the way in. You let go of your grip on him and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair, slowly dampening with sweat. Each glide of his cock inside you ends with a sweet bite of pain, his tip hammering roughly into the edge of your cunt.

His teeth graze the sensitive skin below your jaw, leaving behind marks you’re silently hoping will still be visible in the morning. His hands travel downward, taking hold of your waist and lifting you up to his body like you weigh nothing at all.

“Here,” he says, slipping out of you, thick white thread dribbling between your pussy and his cock. He motions for you to sit up, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, put your feet on my calves.” You oblige, planting each foot behind his thighs as he kneels. “Now lay down, just relax,” he coos, wrapping both hands around your waist to pull you up into a bridge, letting you dip your shoulder blades onto the sheets. He lifts one hand away from your side and guides his cock back into you, giving a few slow strokes with his palm, pushing gently on your stomach.

Then his hands grip your hips tightly, he pulls you back onto him and gives you a moment to stabilize before he fucks into you even deeper than before. Your tits slide up and down your chest with every single one of this deep thrusts, and you watch his eyes as they stay glued to your body, his mouth hanging open, panting, grunting, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to hold back while you squirm and writhe, moaning and whimpering, not giving a fuck who might hear it, trying to keep his name out of your mouth in case someone needs to use the bathroom next door.

He pounds into you, hitting the softest, most tender spot inside of your body, your head rolls back on his pillow, tiptoeing the line between pain and pleasure, feeling him in your stomach. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck,” the words are forced out of you just as a warm stream of liquid squirts out of you, drenching his groin and making him groan. Your orgasm is so intense you nearly howl, feeling more and more of your arousal dripping down his shaft and spurting onto his pelvis, soaking the sheets beneath you, getting wet and sticky with your come and his sweat, watching his hair stick to his forehead while he continues to fuck you, needing every last drop of your climax.

You’re fucking spent, but he won’t relent quite yet, flipping you over and onto all fours, yanking you back by your hips. He enters you from behind and you groan in satisfaction, needing him right there, just like that, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand twists in your hair, wrapping it around his palm and tugging at it while he grunts, rough and loud in your ear, nearly drowned out by the lewd smacking of your ass against his hips.

Your hand dips between your legs, fingers rubbing messy circles around your swollen clit, thinking how many times you’ve dreamt of this exact scenario with your fingers buried inside, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm by the mere thought of Jim. And now, feeling him, the tug on your hair, the ache between your legs, the hoarse cries jumping from your throat.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Jim grunts, wet slaps cutting between his words, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feel good?”

“Yes, Jim,” you whine, your hand jerking with each meeting of his hips on your ass. Come dribbles down the seam of your thigh as you feel your second high begin to wind, white heat flooding downwards. “So – fucking – good. Ah, I want you to come inside me.”

“You sure?”, he pants, holding on by a thread.

“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.”

Jim pulls you upright by the hair, flush against his stomach, and places his hand over yours to rub your clit together. You lean your head back against his shoulder, body freezing as you come for him again. He groans when you pinch around him, movements becoming sloppy.

“Oh – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moans, lips pushing hard into your neck as he twitches and then stills, and you feel the warm spurts of his come deep inside. The two of you groan, strangled and drawn out, collapsing on the bed with his arms around you and his cock softening inside. You listen to the sounds of the party downstairs, the two of you trying to catch your breaths, and he kisses along the back of your shoulder, brushing his thumb back and forth where it rests over your waist.

“What are we gonna tell Mark?”, he asks.

You pause for a beat, then turn your head to him, “We’re telling Mark?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve wanted it, I’ve wanted it. I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want it to be more than that, so at some point–”.

“More than what?”, you respond, your heartbeat returning to its heightened state earlier in the night.

“More than just sex.”

“Oh.”

“I’m really into you,” he whispers, “I didn’t know if you felt the same way about me but it seems like you do, so–”.

You shift around to face him, push his sweat damp locks away from his face and look into his eyes. Shy heat floods your face as you smile at him and nod carefully, biting the inside of your cheek.

“You wanna go back downstairs?” he asks, fingertips ghosting down your spine before he reaches your thigh and hooks your knee over his leg, “We have Islands in the Stream on the karaoke machine, I know you like that song.”

“Sure… In a bit.”

#jim halpert x reader #jim halpert imagine #jim halpert fic #jim halpert fanfic #the office fanfiction #jim halpert

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billthedrake · 10 months

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TELEPHONE POLE

If it hadn't been for the lousy weather on the long weekend, Frank Grisholm may never have taken the chance. But he'd spent two days straight in his apartment, edging for hours with a vial of poppers, a tub of Albolene, and a collection of his favorite dildos, some quite impressive in size. The former D1 football player had a life change at 30, but for as long as it took for him to come out, it had taken less than a year for the muscled 6'5" hunk to realize he craved to have his hole worked over.

Just like grocery shopping when you're hungry, you should never log onto the apps when you've been marathon masturbating. But Frank couldn't help himself. Something about the dildos felt second-best that day. He scrolled through some familiar profiles, holding his phone in his right hand while his left slowly sawed a black-rubber Big Boy in and out of his ass.

He saw a couple of tops he'd hooked up with. Not fuck buddies, but maybe he could reach out for a repeat. Only his attention was caught by a new profile. Or at least new to Frank. The picture was PG rated. Well, R rated, maybe. A picture of a guys' shorts with a huge ridge filling out the package. The profile listed the vital stats. 20 years old, 5'9, 155#, top.

But the dick pick is what got Frank excited, and maybe a little scared. He'd never seen a dick as fat as this. Sometimes guys used the term "beer can" for cocks that probably weren't quite as big and round as an actual beer can. Unless images deceived, this one was fatter than one. It was a bludgeon of a cock that looked like a butt plug, slightly torpedo shaped with two heavy balls clinging to the stalk and a tuft of dark brown pubes behind it.

Then there was the rest of the writing:

THE REAL DEAL. This isn't photoshopped, fellas. It's a tree trunk cock ready to plow some experienced muscle ass.

TURN ONS: Masculine men, linebacker builds, meaty asses. Older guys cool. Cunt training. Seeing that gape.

TURN OFFS: Guys who pussy out. Condoms. Drugged out dudes (poppers and 420 ok)

FRONT OF THE LINE: NO FOREPLAY fucks. Military men.

I need serious takers only.

Frank had enjoyed some intense dildo play, for sure. Even back in his 20s, he had a secret stash of them, and he'd use them on himself whenever his fiancee was out. It was a lie he kept up, until his 30th birthday. He splurged and rented an escort on a business trip to Atlanta. He had to scratch that itch, to get it out of his system.

Only it was the best sex of his life. That big cocked escort had fucked the ex-jock to two toe-curling orgasms in quick succession. He didn't even charge Frank for going over the time.

The next week, Frank called off his engagement and started making plans to get a job in a city, a real city.

"Hey," he now typed. He was actually intimidated to reach out to Mr. Tree Trunk.

But he got a quick, flirty reply. "Hi man. You're fucking hot."

"Thanks," Frank said. Maybe it was the kid's age, or just that sheer cock size, but he didn't expect this easy rapport with the messaging. Frank revealed that he'd been edging all afternoon. Jake said he was taking a study break because he was really horny.

"Feel like coming over man? I'd love to pound your ass." The direct approach might not always work, but in Frank's worked up state, it was just his speed.

"Sounds hot," he wrote. "But I won't lie, that monster scares me."

"You a noob?" came the reply.

Frank had a sudden fear he'd killed the vibe and spoiled his chance to get laid. But his asshole would thank him, he decided. "Not to bottoming," the man replied. "I have some big toys, too."

"Hot," the college dude wrote. "I like breaking in new dudes. I won't hurt ya. Promise."

"That's tempting," Frank replied. "I'm so frickin horny."

"Me too man. Let's do this. My roommate is gone for the weekend." Jake sent his dorm name at one of the universities not far from where Frank lived. "I need to get back to my studying soon, but I wanna get my rocks off, bad."

It felt tawdry as hell, but the 32-year-old got cleaned up and dressed and made his way over to Jake's campus. Frank texted him when he was close, and Jake was down in the lobby waiting for him. The tall, almost beefy man blushed when he thought how transparent this was, being some college kid's booty call. But what the fuck, Jake was an adult, Frank was an adult, and it's not like anyone there knew the man.

"You're even hotter in person," Jake growled as they made our way to his room. He was wearing just some shorts and T-shirt and flip flops, with a college ball cap. He had a soccer player look about him, not a competitive one, maybe, but that tone, lean-muscled look accentuated by his ruddy cheeks and cute face. His body was buff for a college kid's, but his face looked younger.

Jake may have been in a rush, but Frank had to give him credit, he took his time. They sat on his twin dorm bed and made out, then lay back. The ex-jock had never made it with a dude this much younger than him, but the fact Jake had a massive cock gave that age differential a certain thrill. And when the college dude started tugging at Frank's sweatshirt, that put the man in a real bottomy mood.

"Fuck," Jake growled as he lifted Frank's arm and started feasting on the furry pit. The swipe of his tongue sent goosebumps down the bigger, more muscular body. Jake kissed along the chest, then munched at the other pit.

When they finally kissed again, both could feel the temperature rising. Frank reached down and massaged that fat boner in Jake's shorts.

"Wanna see it?" he asked. Boasting.

Frank nodded. "Please."

"Big muscle guy is a frickin size queen, aren't ya?" Jake wasn't a dom, not exactly. He mostly loved the physicality of sex. But he also knew he had 7 incredibly fat inches calling the shorts.

He undid his shorts and there in the flesh, Frank learned that in fact no Photoshop was involved. He was staring at the most colossal prick he'd ever seen or could imagine.

Like a hungry power bottom the big man scrambled to get down and lick it. He actually tried to work the head between his lips, but that cock was too fat.

Jake gently massaged my short hair and laughed. "Don't worry, dude, I've only met one guy who can suck me."

Frank Grisholm felt sad he wasn't that guy. And more than a little ashamed for his lust for that tool. The college kid was cute as fuck but it was the monster meat between his legs that had me acting like a slut. "OK if I lick some more?"

"Be my guest," Jake said, hands on his hips as the man laved him. The thing about dicks that big is they're generally not as hard as smaller cocks. Too much blood flow needed for all that vascular tissue. But as Frank licked him, Jake grew harder and definitely sported a fuck hardon now.

"On your back, man," he hissed. "I wanna eat your hot hole."

The big man did as instructed and when he pulled those meaty legs back, Jake actually whistled before getting down into place. He stared at Frank's pucker and gently ran his finger around it. "So nice... you have a little looseness." He looked up at the guy, a horny expresion on his face. "You been playing with your toys all day, huh?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. But none of them are as thick as you, kid."

That made Jake smile. "Should be a tight fuck, then," he growled and dove in to lick the hole.

Frank loved every part of this. On his back in some goddamn college drom room getting a very eager and skilled rim job. He had to imagine Jake's endowment meant he had a good deal of experience, if he wanted it. Now he softly urged the college stud in a deep gravely voice, coaxing to lick him deep.

The rimming didn't last TOO long. Maybe five minutes. But Frank's hole felt alive and ready. There had been too much stimulation and edging and now he wanted it.

Jake wasn't giving him a chance to back out. At least not unless and until the big guy said no. He slathered on some milky viscous lube, and Frank realized he'd seen it in some toy play videos. The college kid was actually nervous as he pushed that first fat inch past Frank's ring.

The ex-footballer wanted this, bad. But the entry stung and he did his best to hold back a wince.

Jake looked on concerned but also majorly turned on. "Yeah, man, first time's a bitch," he said. "But you got it." He reached down and ran his hands along Frank's beefy furry front. "I'm in ya now, buddy. So just relax and let me in."

Frank took a couple of deep breaths until he decided the heavy breathing was making him tense up.

"Want some poppers?" Jake asked.

"Um, yeah," Frank said. Sometimes they gave him a headache afterwards, but that would be worth it if it allowed him to take this massive cock.

Jake walked as the big guy huffed the fumes. "You're just my fucking type, man," He said excitedly as he fisted that tree trunk meat and added some extra viscous lube.

Frank screwed the cap back on the vial and lay it down on the mattress. He nodded up at Jake.

The poppers rush coincided with the college kid's second entry. That humongous prick was boring right into that slick ass and Frank's body was letting it.

"Fuck!" the big man growled. "You're huge."

"You like huge," Jake said in his turned on voice. He pressed on, feeling a crazy snugness but not an outright clenching of the man's guts, like he usually did with noobies. Soon he felt his balls press against that muscle ass. "I was right, man. You're tight as fuck."

Frank had lost his hardon earlier but the idea he had that giant dong buried all the way up him turned him on and made his cock bone up. He reached down and scooped up some extra lube and applied it to his cock.

Jake was now sawing in and out. Not a lot. But priming the pump. "Not gonna last long today, I'm afraid," he grunted. "Too fucking tight."

"That's OK," Frank said.

Jake nodded down to the poppers. "Take another hit," he urged. "You'll need it."

The ex-jock did just that. Then enjoyed the wave of warmth in his body. Jake was fucking now. Heavy full strokes. It wasn't rough or hard or fast, but with a tree trunk dick, it didn't have to be. Hands down, it was the most intense fucking Frank Grisholm had ever experienced. He tugged at his regular-sized boner and felt jolts of pleasure. His prostate was downright flattened by that torpedo-tapered dong, which sawed over it over and over.

"Shit!" Jake hissed. As he came, that was the only time he lost control, his hips jerking harder and fast as that bazooka blasted deep inside Frank. He'd actually had bottoms pass out with that part, but Jake couldn't help himself. When he was mid-nut, nature took over.

Fortunately, that extra intensity pushed Frank to the hardest cum of his life. Pleasurable to the point of hurting as ropes of seed got pushed out.

Before the poppers wore off, Jake was pulling back, very slowly. With size comes responsibility, and Jake was always careful in the dismount, at least until he knew a bottom was well trained for some rougher stuff.

His eyes were fixated on Frank's well-fucked hole. "Damn, that's one hell of a gape!" he enthused. "Fucking beautiful."

Frank felt exposed and slutty but the fact this kid liked his wide-open cummy hole made him less self-conscious.

"I wish I had more time to play with that," Jake said softly, actually wistfully as his fingers traced the gaping rim. "Is my finger OK, man?" he asked.

Frank winced a little. "I'm a little tender. But go ahead."

Jake was like a kid in the candy store as he examined his handiwork. The man's pucker was a little red and a lot stretched, though it was closing back up before his eyes. Frank leaned back and watched that giant college dong shrink to a soft elephant trunk.

Jake looked at Frank with a leer. "You think you'd ever be up for cunt training, man? You have an amazing pussy."

Two years ago, Frank would have objected to those terms. Now, he was OK with them. "What do you mean, cunt training?"

Jake smirked. "I've given some guys real big pussy lips, just by fucking regularly." He added, "though some of the dudes have also used toys. Either way, it's hot as fuck."

"I dunno," Frank hissed. He'd loved everything about taking on the challenge of Jake's cock, but he didn't want to be a freak or anything.

"Just think about it, man," he urged. He pulled up his finger and licked off the fuck juice from it. "You'd have a lot of fun doing it."

Jake patted his meaty thigh. "Listen, I really do need to study for my midterm. But dude, that was incredible... I'm glad you hit me up."

"Me too," Frank said sheepishly, gathering his energy to get dressed again. The popper headache was coming on, but he'd been right: this was all worth it.

"Seriously man," Jake said as he slipped his shorts back on over that soft heavy, flopping meat. "Let me know if you want a repeat. I'm not looking to date or anything, but it would be hot to have a longer session."

"We'll see," Frank answered, but with an encouraging smile. Jake stepped up for one last kiss, then Frank was off.

The whole way home, the ex-jock's hole felt tender and used, but that very feeling made him smile.

#drakestories

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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months

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Red Dead Redemption 2 College AU !

I'm ignoring reqs for a bit to indulge in my own thoughts and ideas and write some hcs for my college au on what i think their majors/lives as students/professors would be like, ahem... Long post ahead. Also this isn't too well thought out as of now, just wrote down some fun thoughts. Plz tell me your own headcannons

Arthur Morgan - Fine Arts

THE MOST UNEXPECTED MAJOR FOR A GUY LIKE HIM. He's the guy who's seen around campus wearing leather jackets, riding his motorcycle, brooding over a cup of coffee while he stares off aimlessly into the sky. So imagine him walking into your visual arts class with some of the most beautiful drawings you've ever seen. Has his own apartment near campus and his roommate is Charles. Entire place is littered with sketches and art supplies and billions of projects. His hands are constantly stained with charcoal. Takes his major VERY seriously, he don't play about his drawings and paintings. Works at a college bar and constantly comes home with a new story. Frequently visits John and the others after joining the frat, especially when they have parties. Never misses out on those. Became friends with Lenny through these parties.

John Marston - Civil Engineering

Probably one of the most miserable engineering majors you'll ever see. And that's only because he doesn't stress out over his work and procrastinates like he hasn't a care in the world; seemingly forgets he's in college. That is until the deadline is 11:59 PM that night and he has to cram two weeks worth of assignments into one night. Complains about heart palpitations when the area surrounding his desk is littered with energy cans. Joined a fraternity as soon as possible and lives in the housing. Party animal, drinks on weekdays with Sean and Javier. Throws absolute ragers on the weekends. Is the guy to yell "IF YOU'RE NOT PART OF THIS FRAT, THEN GET THE FUCK OUT" before turning to you and asking if you had fun. Has missed his 9 AM several times because he either slept in or is hung over. Was probably community dick for a while. Works at McDonald's part time, people genuinely don't know how he handles the stress. 60% of his paycheck goes to liquor/alcohol.

Javier Escuella - Music Theory

PASSIONATE about his major. HE DON'T PLAY ABOUT HIS MUSIC. But I can totally see him as the type of dude to sit around on the campus lawn with a guitar as a group of girls surrounds him and listens to him play. Is in the frat with John and lives in it as well. Also plays his guitar at parties with girls surrounding him, starkly contrasting the EDM and house music in the background. Shows up to class regardless of hangovers, he is very serious about his education. As serious as he is about partying. Shows up to class fitted every single time. Probably has outfit changes between classes. Type of guy to have his fits laid out next to his bed. He does the most. Was also probably community dick. Works as a cook at a restaurant, constantly flirts with you there. Gets all giddy in the kitchen with his coworkers when he manages to make you giggle.

Charles Smith - Anthropology

It's him and his laptop against the world. He's super neat, everything in one place. Any papers he gets are all neatly kept away and categorized per class. Is hard at work on writing an ethnography and is frequently out and about for observations. If he's not out then he's at home working on assignments. Also a frat member but like I said, rooms with Arthur. Has gained the quiet serious type reputation in class but once you start talking to him discover he's very friendly and nice. Probably works on campus as a student ambassador. Is very involved with school and activities; runs an enviornmental sciences club. Dedicates several hours a night to studying/working on assignments. Amazing student all around. The way he has his life together is enviable.

Kieran Duffy - Equine Studies

LITERALLY PERFECT MAJOR FOR HIM. Literally the happiest student around, his classroom is the stables. Works at the stables as well. Just spends 99% of his time at the stables so catching him outside of there is nearly impossible. Gossips to the horses and tells them about his day. I feel like he'd fall behind in his other studies though because he'd be way too focused on the horses. Typical, struggling student. Joined a frat out of pressure, got the WORST of the hazing. I don't even want to begin to imagine what the rituals were like. Probably gets black out drunk at frat parties, ends up on the front lawn and wakes up half naked every weekend somehow.

Sean Macguire - Business Administration

He's just insufferable like that. Whenever people shit on his major he just finds a thousand bullshit reasons as to why his major is better and more lucrative. Complains to John how hard his homework is and when John asks to see his screen it's addition with pictures. Probably went to college to party and realized "oh shit I actually gotta do school". Googled the highest paying and easiest majors and chose it like that. Puts more thought into what beer he's going to buy at the liquor store than his studies. Hotboxes his car 24/7. His room REEKS of weed and so does he. Attempts to disguise it with ax body spray. Will always ask you if you want to wake and bake; regardless of if you do or don't accept he's showing up to class high and with sunglasses. Goes nonverbal when he greens out. Works at McDonald's with John, is constantly late and is warned he might get fired but never does. Just fucks around in the back. I can imagine he and Karen are constantly on and off but when they're off he brings a new girl home to the frat every night.

Lenny Summers - Literature Major

Joined the frat because he thought he'd make good connections (LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER). One of the youngest pledges, went easier on him with the hazing. He's incredibly focused on his studies. You'd be surprised to find out he's a party animal as well because he's constantly reading a book in his free time. Definitely joined a book club with Mary-Beth and is taking Dutch's English class. Works on campus as well as the library; prides himself on his work and education. I believe he'd dorm because there's no way he's living in that filthy frat. Super organized dorm. Became really good friends with Arthur during one of the parties, also became close with Sean. Frequently gets driven around by Sean and gets second hand high from being in his car.

Bill Williamson - Army

Out of everyone he went to the army instead of college. But he definitely still hangs with the frat when he can simply because he's friends with a few of them. Frequently buys them liquor and supplies it to the younger members. Asks them how their classes are going and ends up falling into a rabbit hole where he's learning about infrastructure planning or astrophysics and tries his hand at doing their homework for them. It goes terribly. Drives a beat up pickup truck and you can hear that mf coming down the road 3 blocks away. Subtly tries (and fails) at flirting with some of the frat members.

Micah Bell - Criminal Law Major

Insufferable. Need I say more. Very money centric. Definitely thinks he's better than you because he's a law student. Kisses the professors’ ass all the time. Joins study groups and acts as if he's the smartest one there, tries to lead conversations, and views it as a challenge if anyone says differently than him during said discussions. He probably has an internship at a firm. Oh my god I can just imagine how sleazy he is. Also part of the frat and several of the members do not like him. Harasses the girls that show up. I can see him cutting off people during class or talking over them. Type of guy to say "not to be devil's advocate, but..."

Pearson - Culinary Degree

Came back to school to get his culinary degree. Mostly keeps to himself but has become acquainted with a few people and is actually decent friends with some. Pretty serious about his studies but is also chill, you can just tell he's extremely passionate about what he does. Excuses himself from hangouts by saying "sorry I got a pie due at 3." Loves it when he's able to sell some of his products back to students/general public and see how people react. Dreams of opening his own restaurant so he takes the accounting/marketing aspects of his degree very seriously.

Abigail Roberts - Education Major

I CAN JUST SEE IT YK. I can totally see her being a teacher, and she's super hardworking. I feel like her schedule is jam packed so she hardly ever has time for fun. Studies, does homework, student teaching, and takes care of herself and her son. So yeah imagine how busy she is all the time. Occasionally leaves Jack with his grandparents for a night of fun but that is few and far in between. Joined a sorority for support but wouldn't live in the house. Lives in the same complex as Arthur and they get along, sometimes he offers to babysit Jack. Drops off food for her when she's real busy with her studies. NEVER late to class. And besides handling ALL THIS, she'd work as a waitress at a restaurant by campus. Talk about hard working.

Sadie Adler - Agricultural Sciences

Definitely moved to live on campus from a rural town to pursue her degree. Joined the sorority early on but dorms. Suffered a breakup and found solace in the community the girls provided. Works at a local supermarket and volunteers at a community garden nearby. Her dorm is full of potted plants. Became really good friends with Arthur through Abigail, who has her over at times. I feel like she'd be asked on dates frequently but she always turns em down because she's still struggling to accept her breakup. I'm not making it a death because this AU isn't that BRUTAL. Argues with the boys often. Pearson frequents the supermarket she works at and she always makes a comment on the strange ingredients he buys. Thus leading to a weird tense air between them that they never directly address. Enjoys her coursework and never falls behind. She's on top of that shit. Also very outspoken in class.

Karen Jones - Biological Sciences

PREMED BABYYYY. On the path to becoming a nurse. She procrastinates a lot, is often late to class, BEGS her professors for extensions. Truth is she's a party girl and she will NEVER give up that party life. Constantly at several different frat parties, gets black out drunk on Saturdays, and on Sundays she's studying for her bio exam on Monday. Complains to her sorority sisters about boys, particularly Sean, to the point where they all HATE any man she gets involved with. And the next time they see Sean in public they're all glaring DAGGERS at him. Parties aside she does her work even if she puts it off... Her grades are decent, definitely passing, but everyone tells her she's gonna need to do better if she wants to go to med school. I can see her working at a retail store like Walgreens. Most miserable cashier you'll ever see. Probably lets you walk out with your items for free if she's particularly pissed off at work that day.

Tilly Jackson - Physics Major

SHE IS A SMART GIRL. One of the most hardworking on this list. Her grades are top notch and she don't play about studying. I can see her offering tutoring for math and even getting paid for it. She is not one to be underestimated when it comes to her academic abilities. Occasionally parties (aka gets dragged along by Karen) and enjoys herself, but I can't see her being a major party animal. Offers Karen lots of advice as well as helping the girls with math assignments when they need it. Joins study groups as well as math clubs. Works at a cafe on campus where Mary-Beth and Lenny visit her occasionally. Generally well organized. Has her shit together.

Mary-Beth Gaskill - Literature Major

ALWAYS has her nose in a book. Becomes extremely engaged in class discussions and has probably read every single book required for the semester already. Works at a bookstore and frequents the campus library. Is on the chiller side of partying but still accompanies the girls. She's very reserved but can be quite friendly. Writes fanfiction in the back of class while her professors think she's just passionately writing a report. Always gets extensions from Dutch, always. Even when she doesn't need em. I can see her reading a lot of philosophy books. Also an Otessa Moshfegh fan. Colleen Hoover is her guilty pleasure. Runs a blog about the books she reads. I can also imagine her being part of the school paper. Real close with Lenny as well, often hangs out with him at the cafe Tilly works at.

Molly O'Shea - Cosmetology

Shows up to her 8 AM with a BEAT face. Full face of makeup, decked head to toe in designer: designer purse where she keeps her macbook, designer shoes, outfit, accessories, etc. Probably wears brands you've never even heard of. Has a crush on Dutch, only reason she has perfect attendance in his class. Has a grudge towards Mary-Beth. Dorms for sure, even though she'd be able to afford housing nearby. The only times she's at the dorm is in the morning getting ready for class or at night to sleep. Hardly talks to her roommate either, not even a hey. Gained the stuck up rich girl reputation from her peers. Seen at cafes in between classes and is always alone. Is out of town and has been struggling to make friends. Lots of guys ask her out on dates and she only accepts when she's bored and wants a free meal. WILL make y'all go to a steakhouse, WILL order the most expensive thing on the menu.

Dutch Van Der Linde - English/Philosophy Professor

This guy definitely speaks about philosophy with a PASSION. His class is very engaging, though I do believe he'd play favorites with a few female students... This goes for both classes. Constant open ended discussions. Type of professor to ask you "but what do the blue curtains mean...?" Hardass with assignments unless you're one of those favored female students. No late assignments with him ever. You either turn it in at the deadline or you don't ever. I feel like he'd forget to take attendance frequently despite being a hardass about that too. Probably the type of professor that tries to integrate himself with the student body and try to fit in. Mildly successful.

Hosea Matthews - Theatre Professor

THE SWEETEST, KINDEST, MOST COMPASSIONATE PROFESSOR. ALWAYS excuses late assignments and very lenient, will not deduce points. His class is very fun and engaging as well! Does what Dutch tries to do and makes genuine connections with his students while keeping it professional. Tells his students they can always talk to him and come for advice. Frequently has lunch with Dutch and Susan and talks up just how great his classes are. Frequents the library and local bookstores; also goes to the cafe Tilly works at. I also feel like a lot of his relationships would have a fatherly air around them, like he's a second dad for a few of the students (we know who...).

Leopold Strauss - Business Professor

YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE WOULDN'T UGH. Probably a super boring class I'm not gonna lie. His accent would probably make it hard for some students to understand what he's saying, not to mention he probably speaks super softly and not loud enough for everyone to hear. He should've retired by now but he refuses to. There is no syllabus week with him, you got homework on the first day. But it's probably not even hard c'mon. Sean is probably the most lively thing about his class, but he's definitely falling asleep in there frequently. Always late to his own class, doesn't even say why, just gets into lecturing. NEVER seen without a cup of coffee. Sometimes there will be long moments of silence between lectures as he tries to figure out the technology. Falls asleep in his car after class.

Orville Swanson - Theology Professor

Also a super chill professor. He's probably super open to his classes about his struggles. He's able to facilitate well structured discussions and keep things civilized amongst his students. I feel like it could get boring because it's mostly lectures and slide shows but he'd still find a way to keep his students engaged, especially on discussions. I feel like he'd also be lenient about assignments, but his assignments would be rather large. Back to back papers. Type of professor to say hi to you in the halls or outside of campus and ask about your day. 10/10 guy.

Uncle - Biology Professor

How is he still working here. HOW hasn't he retired. WHY hasn't he retired. SOMEONE PLEASE make him retire. There are pros and cons. You will learn NOTHING in his class, so if you're unfortunate enough to land his class you better drop that shit as soon as possible. If you for some reason stay, you must be some sort of masochist. Probably has the best stories. As soon as you think he's about to start lecturing he goes on a tangent about a story that happened to him the other day. He has weekly tests and you might as well teach yourself the material because his ass definitely isn't doing it. Also has plenty of labs so he can leave you all to your own devices amongst each other while he sits at his desk and does who knows what. You can probably find him sleeping in a student lounge at any time of the day. Also the frat guys have definitely run into him at the liquor store.

Susan Grimshaw - History Professor/Sorority Mother

She's hard on you but only because she cares. Isn't very lenient when it comes to assignments but she's involved with her students. If she sees you struggling she'll pull you aside and ask what's up and figure out a plan to help you out in her class. Likes to remind her students she isn't their mommy but has a very motherly air surrounding her. And she is VERY on top of her girls. As a sorority mother, she makes sure they eat well, stay on top of studies, and deals with parents. Encourages the girls to keep up the general cleanliness of the house and tells them to work as a unit. Extremely proud of each of them.

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wordsbyrian · 1 year

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Frat Daddy the Third - USWNT x Reader

Summary/Request: Anon sorta said "reader being under the legal drinking age but the team travels to Europe and the reader goes out...team ends up taking care of them at the end"

A/N: So this isn't exactly what anon requested but this what my brain made of it. Enjoy.

Trigger warning: Excessive drinking of Alcohol and mentions of a date rape drug but no one gets hurt.

Despite what everyone else may think, there is nothing cool about trying to balance being in college and being on the senior national team.

Okay, maybe that is slightly dramatic because playing on the same team as some of the women you grew up idolizing is incredibly cool but there are some downsides.

You could waste time listing them all but there is only me that is bugging you right now: not being able to have a drink when you want one.

Once again, this might seem like a small thing but you attend one of the top party schools in the country: Florida State.

So more often than not you have a little bit of alcohol in your system.

Bored while studying, have a beer or two.

Headed to a 3-hour lecture, take a shot before walking across campus.

If any of the other sports teams win, let’s find a frat party.

Your team wins, and the party’s at your place.

Get a call-up, throw a party.

It’s not alcoholism if you’re still an undergrad.

And it’s not a hangover if you refuse to tell anyone what you did the night before.

This is exactly what you’re doing now as you wait in Newark airport with Kristie and all your teammates on the Spirit. They had faced each other to a nil-nil draw last night while you and the Seminoles beat Rutgers.

And yes, you had thrown a small party in the hotel afterward.

So not only were you incredibly hungover (honestly you were probably still drunk), but you were also dealing with some of your loudest national teammates.

Sinking lower into your seat, you pull your hat lower on your head and turn up the volume in your headphones.

Just as you begin to drift off, you feel multiple pairs of eyes on you.

Opening one of your own, you aren’t surprised to see Kelley directly in your face and everyone else staring at you.

“Can I help you,” you question, taking your headphones off.

“Why are you sweating,” Kelley asks, “And why do you smell like the aisle of a liquor store?”

Closing your eyes you respond, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So if I passed a bottle of,” she pauses, taking a big sniff, “Hennessy under your nose, you wouldn’t be tempted to throw up?”

Just the mention of the drink that you had too much of last night is enough to make you gag. That in turn makes Kelley shake her head at you.

“Next time use a stronger body spray, kid,” she says before walking away.

The incident doesn’t get brought up again.

And as far as you know Kelley doesn’t mention it to anyone else but she does get herself assigned as your roommate.

It isn’t until you are in your shared hotel room, complaining about your homework that the topic of alcohol even comes up again.

“Mill, Kant, and morals are best studied with a beer,” you grumble not having heard Kelley re-enter the room with Sonnett.

“Day drinking while studying ethics is a new level, kid,” Sonny says, causing you to whip your head around to face her.

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t have a beer, so no day drinking is occurring,” you say, turning back to continue writing your paper.

“Why are you studying ethics and morals anyway,” Kelley asks, “Aren’t you getting a degree in computer engineering?”

“It’s a required course.”

She gives a small ‘oh’ in response and seconds later you can hear her and Emily whispering behind you, something that you mistakenly choose to ignore seeing as how deadlines don’t care about timezones.

Eventually, you forget the two of them are even in the room and begin to find your groove again making a significant amount of progress on your paper.

That groove is broken when the two of them walk up to either side of you and close your laptop.

“Are you serious right now,” you ask, groaning when they don’t take their hands off it, “I only have two hours left to finish this paper.”

“Relax Y/N/N, we’re here to make you a deal,” Emily says placatingly.

“Alright, well hurry up.”

“We’re gonna ask you two questions,” Kelley explains, “Answer both correctly and score a goal tomorrow and we’ll bring you with us when we go out after the game.”

“Can I answer the questions and type my paper at the same time,” you beg, still trying to remove their hands from your laptop.

“Fine,” they say simultaneously, watching as you scramble to get back to your essay.

“Ok, the first question,” Emily says, “What is the legal drinking age in France?”

“There isn’t one,” you answer, “But you have to be 18 to purchase any alcohol.”

“Correct, next question, “Kelley says, “What are three characteristics of alcohol use disorders?”

“Inability to limit drinking, continuing to drink despite personal or professional problems, and wanting to drink so bad that you can’t think of anything else.”

“Correct again,” the older defender says, “Now score a goal and you get to hang out with the big kids after the game.”

“Cool, will the ‘big kids’ leave me alone now,” you beg, citing another source for your paper.

“Alright, fine, see you later Y/N/N,” Emily says, dragging Kelley out of the room.

By the time you’re standing on the touchline the next day, you’ve completely forgotten about the deals you’ve made with the Frat Daddies.

No, you’re more focused on trying to find a way past Wendie Renard and the rest of the French back 3 so that you can leave the stadium with a win.

It’s a hard hustle but you finally manage to take a good shot in the 79th minute that barely sails over the fingertips of the French goalie.

You don’t remember the deal until Kelley leaps into your arms yelling about how she’s buying your first drink.

And that doesn’t fully register in your mind until Kelley is forcing you to get out of bed and get dressed that night.

The club you and the rest of the team find yourselves in is cooler than any of the ones you’ve snuck into at school. But that’s to be expected seeing as how Tallahassee isn’t known for much else besides being home to Florida State.

You spend most of the night with your teammates dancing and convincing them to buy you shots, you get through eight of them before they catch on and you have to buy your own drinks.

That’s when things take a turn for the worse.

One second you’re at the bar talking with a pretty French girl while waiting for your beer and the next, you’re drinking a beer that is definitely not supposed to be salty.

Stumbling towards where you left your teammates, you walk straight into Kelley’s arms.

“Kelley, we need to leave,” you slur-shout into her ear.

“What, why?”

“Because I just had a salty Modelo and Modelo is not supposed to be salty,” you say frantically, “GHB makes beer salty and now it’s getting really hard to breathe, so can we please leave.”

“Oh my god, Y/N,” she says.

“I only took a sip but we need to leave.”

It doesn’t take very long for Kelley to spring into action and within the next 10 minutes, you’re on Emily’s back being carried back to the hotel. This is great because you are quickly losing the ability to move your limbs.

When you get back to the hotel, you’re barely aware of Kelley softly telling you everything’s going to be fine while she helps you get ready for bed.

You do hear Sonnett say something about how much trouble they're going to be in but that should really be the least of everyone’s concerns at this point and Kelley says as much.

You don’t have many memories of what happened after Emily left but you do vaguely remember Kelley checking on you multiple times and making sure that you didn’t choke on your puke, which was pretty cool of her.

That’s probably why you’re so surprised when you wake up to the sound of her getting yelled at by Alex and Becky.

“Seriously, Kelley,” Becky says, “The one time you take her out, you not only lose her but she gets drugged.”

“Guys,” Kelley says, trying to explain.

“No, Kelley,” Alex interrupts.

You can tell that Alex is getting pretty worked up so you decide to do all three of them a favor and crack a joke.

“Scale of 0-10, getting drugged,” you say, flinging the covers off and climbing out of bed, “0 out of 10, do not recommend, will not be trying again.”

Every head in the room whips around to face you and that’s when you realize that practically the entire team is there, not just Kelley, Alex, and Becky.

“Y/N,” Alex says, taking a step toward you, “How are you feeling?”

“Like I took 15 shots of rum instead of 10.”

“You took 10 shots of rum,” Sonny says shocked.

You don’t get a chance to answer because Becky quickly turns on Kelley again.

“You let the baby take 10 shots,” she practically shouts.

Kelley stutters for a while before you decide to step in.

“Can we all chill on Kelley,” you say, “because I think we all know by now that no one can stop me from doing what I want.” You move to stand by the bathroom door while continuing, “It’s not her fault that I snuck off to have a beer and two shots when she turned away for half a second. And it’s really not her fault that a pretty French girl drugged me. Now if you all don’t mind leaving so I can puke in peace I’d appreciate it.”

The last thing you hear as you close the door behind you is the depressed voice of Lindsey going, “Great, now we have three frat bros to look after.”

#woso imagine #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #uswnt x reader #woso fanfics #womens soccer

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lepitorus · 8 months

Note

umm sorry this isnt very specific but it would be really cool if you went into detail about what their dynamic is like ^-^

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING! Sorry it took me so long to get to this! In my mind, Will and Henry meet in college and get along on the basis of both of them being A Little Weird in their own separate ways. Specifically, I think Henry, who is able to more-or-less mask that and fit in, sees himself in Will, who... is not able to, and he ends up growing sort of protective of him. This leads to them becoming friends, and then roommates, and then the two of them being a little too drunk or a little too high one night and Henry kissing William. I don't think William thinks much about his sexuality prior to that. He knows he isn't interested in women the way his peers are, but I think in his mind he attributes that to his workaholic attitude - there's just so many more important things to do than dating, aren't there? - and he already has a complicated jealousy/admiration thing going on for Henry, so being kissed awakens a Lot in him.

Oh, that's an option. Oh, Henry likes him that way. Oh. I don't think they ever have a "proper" relationship in college, just something Vague and Undefined and Kind of Loaded. Still, William clings to it. He begins to view Henry as an extension of himself: they aren't Henry and William anymore, they're Henry-and-William, and he sees no reason not to embrace that. After all, it's gonna be like that forever, right? They love each other, and besides, it's not like they know other queer people!

Meanwhile, Henry, in his mind, is like "well of course I like Will, but there's no way this can be a serious thing, I mean, we're gonna have to get married eventually, haha!" And he likes women too, so like, he has no problem doing that. Lots of nice girls out there. And he just sort of assumes William feels the same way. So that's kind of an issue. Henry starts spending a lot of time with this girl because people are starting to look at them strange but haven't they always looked at them strange? Isn't that why they got along so well in the first place? And then, oh, they're dating. And also apparently this was always going to happen? And Henry's saying this like it's the most natural thing in the world, like it's something they were both supposed to know?

But well, they're still friends, right? (like it could ever go back to that) Yes, of course, he'd love to be Henry's best man! (and throw up in the bathroom at the reception) From there, William's already complicated Henry Emotions spiral further. He hates him. He wants to be him. He wants to be with him. He wants Henry to have nothing. He wants Henry to have nothing but him. You know, normal stuff.

#i have a lot more but i don't know what a socially acceptable answer length is aha......#special thanks to my friend ghoulie with whom i rotate them....#willry #helliam #let's start one for these asks uhh #old man yaoi lore #thank you for asking!#fnaf

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steddiealltheway · 11 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

pretend this isn't the fourth thing i've posted in the past like... two hours

but this is so cool! Thank you @zerokrox-blog for tagging me!

So this is a Soulmate AU that has been in my head for YEARS, and I've finally started writing it down so... here's the first chapter or maybe only part of it? I'm not sure yet. But here it is :)

A few weeks earlier…

Steve sprints to the window, unlatching it easily and jumping through just to tuck and roll onto the soft carpet of Robin’s bedroom.

“What the-” Robin starts to yell until she catches sight of Steve who holds a finger to his lips. He signals for her to close the windows and curtains quickly while he lays on the ground wiping the rain water mixed with blood out of his eyes.

Robin quietly freaks out as she locks the window and pulls the curtain tight. She flicks on a lamp then digs under her bed for a first aid kit that makes Steve want to squirm away, but he can’t deny the need for some type of treatment for his wounds. As she’s carefully putting bandaids on what he assumes to be a large cut on his forehead, she whispers out, “What the hell happened?”

Steve breathes out and does a quick assessment of himself. Nothing appears to be broken at the moment, but his vision is slightly swimming as the adrenaline wears off. He lets his eyes close as he leans into Robin. “Turns out I’m going to college with you after all.”

He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that she’s giving him a weird look, but he opens them to let her know he’s serious about this. “Robin, promise to never call me ‘Steve’ again, okay?”

Robin freezes and lets her hand fall from where it was smoothing out a bandaid. “What?”

“Please,” Steve pleads and looks around frantically. “Call me… call me…” his head is pounding and his stomach slightly churns, so he relies on the last thing he saw, a name too unique to belong to any soul, “Call me Keys.”

“Okay… Keys,” Robin says testing out the name as Steve’s eyes lull shut. “Now tell me everything.”

Now

Moving in sucks. Well, moving Robin in sucks. Steve had told her that she didn’t need to pack her entire room, but she insisted, “Keys, I will not be returning home after my first twenty-four hours away from it! And maybe I’ll need the whistle I got in elementary school! You never know.”

Steve just sighs and hefts up yet another box from his car, carefully glancing around for anyone familiar before heading up to Robin’s dorm. He curses the broken elevator but realizes it likely wouldn’t have been much help since everyone else is moving in at the same time. He swerves just at the last second as some hyper dude with long hair runs down the stairs past him and Robin. For some reason, he feels a weird draw to them, but they probably just remind him of Dustin who he would’ve yelled at to slow the hell down. He misses that kid.

Steve huffs as he makes his way to the third story of the building and spots the door to Robin’s room slightly ajar. Robin shoots him a look and they rush over to it only to slow down as they approach. Steve sets down the box and riffles through it settling on grabbing a random plaque from... “Your fourth-grade spelling bee, really?”

“It’s one of my greatest accomplishments!” Robin whisper yells at him and nudges his shoulder.

Steve rolls his eyes but takes the plaque and holds it up. He holds up his hand signaling three... two... one...

Steve shoves the door open and yells as a blonde girl starts to scream. Steve quickly realizes his mistake and puts the plaque down on a nearby table and holds his hands up. “Woah! Oh, shit. Sorry. You must be Robin’s roommate. I’m Steve,” he introduces himself cautiously holding his hand out.

Only, the girl doesn’t take it. Instead, she seems frozen as she glances over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve’s hand drops and he looks over his shoulder to see what's happening but he’s only met with the sight of Robin staring longingly at the other girl. Steve looks back at the girl and sees it. “You must be Chrissy,” Steve breathes out.

The girl nods slightly, and happiness alongside jealousy churns in Steve’s stomach. “Well, it’s been great meeting you. And I’ll just... see myself out. Robin, we can get the rest of your stuff later. I’m just going to head to my dorm.”

Robin slightly nods, mirroring Chrissy’s same nod from earlier, and Steve is almost positive that neither of them are getting any of what he’s saying. Damn soulmates.

Steve heaves Robin’s box through the doorway and lightly shoves her in before closing the behind her. This is certainly not how he wanted his college experience to start.

He rushes down the stairs and tries not to think too hard about the whole Robin finding her soulmate thing. Like, yes, it’s great. He’s glad she has the perfect roommate and a soulmate who clearly just by first looks is crazy about her. But this means... fuck.

Steve might be abandoned. He knows it’s unlike Robin, but he’s heard the soulmate stories. Christ, they’re literally a person’s other half, so of course they’re going to want to spend all their time with them which leaves Steve... alone. Or awkwardly third wheeling, but the sight of happy couples makes him irrationally angry.

Well, with everything, Robin says that he should be reasonably angry about the whole soulmate thing, but...

Steve shakes his head as he climbs into his car and watches that same long-haired boy heave a box up towards the building. Eddie. A voice in his head unhelpfully supplies, and Steve shakes it away because that would be impossible.

He forces himself to tear his eyes away and look at the campus map. Sadly, he and Robin aren’t living in the same residence hall, but the buildings should be about a five-minute walk away. He spots his building and takes a deep breath as he thinks about dealing with parking. Luckily, he only has about one trip worth of things with him.

He finds parking and curses under his breath as he rechecks his dorm number and pockets the key they gave him a few hours earlier. He pushes around the few boxes Robin has left so he can get out his one box and old backpack. Hopefully his roommate doesn’t judge him too much.

The trek to the building isn’t horrible from the parking lot, but Steve is definitely thankful that he lives on the first floor.

He finds his room fairly easily and digs his key out of his pocket so he can unlock the door. He sighs when he finds it’s already unlocked and prepares to meet his roommate. He tries to appear pleasant as possible and even tightly smiles as he enters the room. Half of it is filled with weird shit like posters and drawings that Steve thinks that Dustin would like. And he’s definitely gotta ask why the hell he has a giant sign that says “Corroded Coffin.” He whistles low when he spots the guitar propped in the corner of the room. He knows nothing about instruments, but he can tell it’s well taken care of.

The only thing that he finds odd is the lack of a roommate in the room, but maybe he’s in the bathroom or something.

Steve doesn’t think too hard about it because he’s filled with relief of finally being alone so he can breathe. It’s not that he isn’t a social person it’s just... he needs time to process the whole Chrissy and Robin thing. More than anything he wants to rant to someone about it, but his options of ranting are: Robin.

But there’s probably a landline in the common area and definitely pay phones nearby so he can call Dustin eventually.

He tugs at the leather band around his right wrist for a few minutes as he thinks before realizing the anxious tick and trying to stop. He needs Robin to go back to flicking him in the head every time he does it. Soulmarks don’t like being suffocated he guesses.

He unpacks the few things he has, stuffing the few pairs of clothes he has in the supplied dresser and slipping sheets over his mattress and making up the thin comforter (curtesy of Robin’s mom) and pillow (also Robin’s mom) to make the place look somewhat like a home. He gets a framed picture of him and Robin out of his box and puts it on his desk lastly before turning around and walking towards his door.

He stops and takes a breath before turning around and taking in his sad display of a room, but he can’t help but smile. Nothing can be worse than his room from a few weeks ago.

All the sudden, the door swings open and collides with Steve’s back causing him to stumble forward and curse.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were...” the man trails off as Steve turns around.

It’s the same long-haired guy he saw before, but close up he’s absolutely...

Eddie. Soulmate.

Steve’s entire being feels drawn to him, and it’s like he understands what all the soulmates mean when they say as soon as they saw them they just knew. And it feels so right. He’s somehow everything that Steve had always dreamed of since he first got his mark, and nothing at all like what he expected. He’s about to finally say that it’s him, it’s Steve, when he finally shakes himself out of it.

No, it’s not him. It’s not possible. He’s already met Eddie.

So, Steve sticks his hand out and says, “I’m Keys.”

And something about his name must falter whatever is going on in the man’s head as he reaches out and replies, “Kas. Uh, you must be my s- roommate.”

Steve smiles tightly as the label doesn’t rest well with him. He shakes his hand and can’t help but notice the way his hand feels right in his, but he’s also wearing a band around his wrist that kind of jostles with Steve’s and it feels so wrong like he needs to pry them both off-

“My roommate who I just hit with the door. Shit, I’m sorry, man, I just got some crazy news that my best friend found her soulmate. At least, I think that’s what I was witnessing because she was just making out with this other girl, and I don’t know, I just kind of ran like hell. And I wasn’t thinking and bam hit you with the door,” Kas rambles out and it’s overwhelmingly endearing to Steve especially when he pulls his hair in front of his face and continues, “Sorry, man, I’m just kind of freaking out.”

And Steve knows exactly what he means. “I can’t blame you. I just had the same sort of shit happen. My best friend just found her soulmate, and I’m at a loss. I know I should feel happy for her, but I can’t help but think I’m going to be abandoned or some shit.” Steve stops and wonders why the hell he’s talking so much and basically spewing his soul to a stranger. “Sorry,” Steve apologizes and shakes his head, “I don’t usually open up so easily.”

“Neither do I, but that’s just because I have to keep up my dark and mysterious persona,” Kas says with a bright smile as he raises his hands and wiggles his fingers.

Steve can’t help but laugh.

Kas’s smile falls, but more in a dramatic way than a hurt way. “What? Do you not think I’m all dark and mysterious?”

This makes Steve laugh even harder. He has no idea how this man with the energy of a hyper puppy and the biggest brown doe eyes he’s ever seen has ever appeared threatening or rather “dark and mysterious.”

Kas sighs and frowns at him, but that just further drives home the point. Steve can’t help but try to stifle his laughter and reply as seriously as he can, “Oh, you’re dark and mysterious alright.”

Kas lightly shoves him as a blush comes to his cheeks, and Steve doesn’t remember ever feeling so connected to someone as soon as he met them. He can’t help but think that Kas is thinking the same thing as they stare at each other, both smiling as something like hope stirs in Steve.

He wishes more than anything that soulmates didn’t exist.

“Hey, Kas!”

“Keys!”

Kas and Steve jump back as they stare at the two girls in their doorway who glance back at each other. “No way,” Robin and Chrissy both say together and laugh.

It takes Steve a moment longer than everyone, but then he’s looking at Kas with wide eyes as he realizes how cruel and kind the universe really is.

#steddie #steddie wip #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #soulmate au

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glittter-vamp · 8 months

Text

Hurricane Party|J.B

Warnings: MDNI18+, Smut, LSU!Joe x Reader. Natural Disaster talk. Mention of pregnancy. Fluff with minor angst. Crappy writing per usual.

Summary/Inspo: Got inspired by this storm that's going to unfortunately hit us in FL and Joe's iconic moment of being anti-hurricane party at LSU.

"So you should be expecting it to make landfall at around 9PM. Curfew will start at 6PM and all emergency services will be suspended starting 7PM and will be advised when they start again." You hear the TV reporter say on the tv in your room as you pack up your duffle bag with necessities. It was currently almost 3PM here in Baton Rouge, you and everyone else in the state were expecting a serious hurricane to sadly hit the state of Louisiana.

This wasn't your first rodeo being from an area where hurricanes happen here and there but it was for sure your first ever while away at college. It made you a little nervous, being in a different state for this one but you knew all the the important stuff about them and how to stay safe therefore you were as prepared as one could be. Your boyfriend Joe on the other hand, started to freak out about 48 hours ago when it was confirmed that it would be hitting us and not Florida or Mexico. Other than being disappointed his football game this week & practices were canceled for the remainder of the week, Joe was extremely nervous to experience this hurricane not being from the south.

"You sure Joe doesn't just want to stay over here? It's just going to be me and Beth." Your roommate Ella asks you as she passes your room. "Joe doesn't want to leave his apartment and if I don't go, he'll for sure spend it alone. He's never been through this." You sigh. "He's really freaked out by this isn't he? I saw the interview about him not being a fan of the hurricane parties he's been invited too." She snorts. "He's a legit grandpa about it." You chuckle zipping up your bags.

"Well, I hope you two stay safe! Beth is bringing over some portable chargers so hopefully we can remain in contact with you guys through the storm." Ella says as you walk out of your room with your bags. "You guys too, I think Joe also went overboard with the portable chargers so we shouldn't have an issue with that either." You snort grabbing the bag of snacks and flashlights you had on the dining table. "Bye sprinkles, take care of your mommy's." You pet Ella's cat who was lounging on a chair near the dining table.

"You guys have fun, don't get pregnant." You joke. "I'll try my darn hardest not too with my crazy fertile girlfriend." She rolls her eyes before laughing and walking you out. You put everything in your car and drive over to Joe's. The roads were crazy with people doing everything they needed to do before curfew was set. Long lines for gasoline were wrapped around places and groceries stores were full of people. You were glad you did everything yesterday and had all the important stuff you needed for the storm. Pulling up to Joe's you grabbed everything from your car and made your way up the stairs to his apartment, out of breath from the stuff you were carrying. You rang the doorbell and waited for a moment before the door opened revealing your favorite person. "You should of told me you were here, I would of helped you with all this stuff." Joe says quickly taking a few things from your hands.

"It's okay." You chuckled walking into his apartment and seeing the crazy amount of stuff he got. "Joe...is all of this really necessary?" You ask setting the bag of snacks on his breakfast bar as he goes to his room putting your other bags there for you. "Better safe than sorry." He says coming back into the room giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Five packs of water for two people is a bit much and how many batteries did you buy? I told you I picked some up yesterday at target." You scoff looking at everything. "You know I drink a lot of water and what if we get stuck here for days, I was reading on hurricane Katrina--Joe, honey... you can't psych yourself out like that." You grab his face calming him down. "I'm not, I'm just being smart." Joe rolls his eyes.

"Are you hungry? I can make us some sandwiches." Joe says grabbing your hands off his face and giving them a squeeze before walking into his kitchen. "That sounds good." You nod sitting in his bar chairs at the breakfast bar. "So, any of the guys coming over?" You ask looking into your bag of snacks. "No, a bunch of them are going to a stupid hurricane party. They're out of their minds." Joe scoffs taking out all the ingredients to make a sandwiches. "I've been to one, pretty fun actually." You shrug and Joe gives you look. "What? It was in high school." You shrug. "Then why aren't you at one now?" He asks cocking his eyebrow. "Because my scaredy cat boyfriend needs someone to hold him through the night." You pout. "Pft, I told you I'd be just fine here watching movies until the power went out." He says like no big deal. "Dude, you literally duct tape your windows...which you aren't supposed to do because you're creating bigger shards of glass if the windows were to break." You cross your arms.

"Naw uh." Joe looks at you and you roll your eyes. "Amateur." You mutter. "Well sorry for not being in the know about stuff, I'm from Ohio. We don't have literal tornadoes that attack us from the sea." He says handing you the sandwich. "All those youtube videos you watch and none of them serve for a hurricane." You shake your head teasing him. "Eat your food." Joe rolls his eyes at you making you laugh.

*****************************************

"Winds are starting to pick up." You say from Joe's balcony. "Can you please come inside, it's not safe out there." Joe says to you as you look around at the swaying trees across the parking lot. "This isn't anything near bad, I'm fine." You chuckle leaning against the railing of the balcony. Curfew was set for the county you two were in about two hours ago and it was starting to get pretty windy with minimal rain coming in. "Y/N...C'mon please. You're making me me nervous here." Joe bites his lip from the sliding door looking at your nervously and starting to get ticked off.

"Fineee, you're such an old man." You sigh walking inside the apartment, Joe quickly shutting the sliding door and blinds. "I don't want anything to happen to you, winds are starting to pick up and you don't know what objects can come flying and hit you." Joe says as you sit on the couch. "Sit, let's watch some movies!" You pat the spot next to you. "I want to keep watching the weather, I don't have a good feeling about this." Joe shakes his head. "Joe, take a break." You grab the remote and go on a streaming service. You end up picking the movie Twilight and Joe sighs in annoyance. "Go get some snacks, we'll watch this and check on the weather every 30 minutes to compromise." You say to him. Joe agrees, bringing back some chips and water over. You two cuddled on the couch as the weather starts to get worse minute by minute outside. You could feel how tense Joe was so you gave him a few comforting squeezes and kisses on the cheek to help ease his nerves.

The movie went on and before you knew it, you were half way through the movie. "Wait, so he's basically 100 years old and he's falling in love with a high schooler?" Joe asks making you chuckle. "He's forever 17 though, so technically he's just frozen in time." You respond. "What the hell? That's creepy." He cringes making you laugh. "I like that Jacob guy better, he seems more trustworthy and her age." Joe nods. "Oh, you're in for a treat if you watch the other movies." You pat his arm. "Don't tell me he's also immortal and an old creep?" He asks. "No, but you'll see." You smirk. Continuing the movie, all of a sudden you two hear the wind howl a bit and the sound of rain start to get harder. Joes hand grips your thigh and you pat his arm kissing his shoulder as a sign of reassurance. You hoped you wouldn't lose electricity so soon and could at least watch a few more movies. "You know, I like Charlie." Joe says. "Of course you do, he's sort of like you. Awkward, hates talking to people and hot." You wink at joe which makes him blush. "You think he's hot?" Joe laughs. "Yeah, Carlisle is also hot and wait til you see Jacobs friends in the rest of them!" You wiggle your eyebrows, Joe shaking his head and rolling his eyes at you.

"Did you suddenly forget I'm not into dudes or?" Joe chuckles. "You can still find a man attractive without being gay Joseph, its 2018! I'm not asking you to kiss them." You roll your eyes. The movie eventually finished and Joe took that time to check the storm. It wasn't looking great but it wasn't looking as bad as it could either. Once Joe had enough of the weather updates he put on New Moon. "New guilty pleasure?" You chuckle at Joe who seemed to now be invested in this soon to be Vampire/Werewolf love triangle. "Just watch the movie." Joe mutters.

**********************************************

By the third movie, the storm was full force and Joe was very uneasy. He kept checking his phone watching the weather radar, biting his nails and bouncing his leg up and down. You were thinking of a way to ease his anxiety when all a sudden you guys heard loud boom outside and the lights immediately shut off. "What the fuck was that!?" Joe says freaking out. "It was probably an electrical transformer, we're fine I promise. It just means we won't have electricity for a while." You say turning the flashlight on your phone on and going to get the flashlights and lanterns, Joe following you. You guys get everything and make your way back to the couch placing down the lanterns and flashlights around the room.

"You okay?" You ask Joe softly looking at his worried face. "I guess." He sighs as we hear the howls of the wind and rains clashing against the windows. "We're fine, promise." You hug him giving him a kiss on his neck, Joe hugging you back tightly.

"Okay let's entertain ourselves, I brought over card games & board games." You clap your hands getting up from the couch grabbing a flashlight going into Joe's room where your stuff was placed and bringing out the games. "I gots us, regular playing cards, Uno, trouble, monopoly & this one is special just for you." You hand Joe a box which he seems confused by until he realizes what is it. "Flying Dutchman's treasure hunt... from SpongeBob? Where the hell did you get this?!" He says shocked. "Target had it, pretty pricey by the way I think it's meant to be more of a collectors item but I thought we could play it once and you can have it for your love of cartoons." You smile sitting on the floor placing the games down.

"This is awesome, thank you." Joe smiles giving you a sweet peck on the lips before he sits down across from you on the floor excited about his new board game. It was things like this you loved most about Joe, he was always so appreciative of things not matter how big or small and you could put a smile on his face with the silliest things. "I don't know how to play yet, but I'm kicking your butt." Joe says making you laugh. "It's on Burrow." You laugh seeing how quickly he gets competitive with you and just about anyone he knew.

************************** "What type of bird is that!? That looks nothing like a bird!" You scoff at Joe. It was later in the night now, storm was still hitting pretty hard and you two laid on his floor doing shadow puppets on the ceiling like the goofiest people you knew. "It's a hawk!" Joe says failing miserably at his shadow puppets. "Wait stick up your finger like that." You say holding your finger up and Joe does it in the light. "E.T...Phone...Home..." You mimic the iconic movie line making you laugh seeing Joe's skinny long finger on the wall. Joe sucks on his teeth annoyed that you hit him with that joke.

"Ha, Ha...so funny." Joe rolls his eyes as you still laugh. "Hey, it's not my fault your built like an alien from the 80s." You shrug. "Well you haven't complained about these alien fingers in bed." Joe clapped back. "Look at you getting feisty!" You giggle as Joe leans over kisses you tenderly. You gently grab his face between your hands and kiss him back, softly at first but that quickly turned into a heavy make out session. His fingers slipping under your shirt and up to your lace bra. All of a sudden a loud noise outside startles you both, Joe immediately looking terrified. "Hey, you're fine. Promise." You smile at him and kiss him. "Can we move to the bedroom, I like it'd be safer." Joe breathes nervously as we hear thunder rumble outside and wind pick up. "Yeah, whatever you want." You smile and nod. You two move to the bedroom bringing in the flashlights and portable chargers and lay on the bed. "We still have signal." Joe says checking his phone. "I hope it stays that way." You mutter setting down one of the lanterns.

"How are you feeling?" You ask Joe sitting on his nicely made bed. "I'm alright." he shrugs laying next to you. You give him a smile and pull him towards you to finish what your started in the living room and take his mind off what was happening outside. Quickly you two undress each other and you end up straddling Joe taking in his perfectly sculpted body beneath you. His eyes doing the same taking in your naked body before kissing down your bare chest and sucking on your sensitive nipple. Letting out a moan you run your fingers through his hair as Joe firmly grips your asscheeks simultaneously.

"I need you." You whisper to Joe. With zero hesitation, Joe aligns himself at your dripping entrance and you slowly sink down on him. Perfectly gripping onto him. "Shit, you always feel so good around me baby." Joe whimpers as you moan and grip onto his headboard. Taking a second, you slowly start to move, rolling your hips up and down as you make eye contact with and smirk at Joe. You get a rhythm going, feeling him play with your breasts. Moans fill the room as the storm outside echoes outside. Hearing another loud noise and the sound of a car alarm in the distance, instead of Joe stopping out of worry he quickly flips you over, not pulling out of you and starts pounding into you. "Fuck! Don't stop." You moan as Joe spreads your legs and focuses on his rhythm. "So fucking good." Joe hisses before he attaches his lips to yours and his fingers find their way to your clit. Between the sounds of skin slapping together, moans, whimpers and whispering sweet nothings; you two forgot all about what was happening outside.

*******************************************************

The next morning you woke up all sweaty. With a naked sweaty Joe sleeping, arms and legs draping over you you looked around the room hearing his snores with his face in the crook of your neck. It was completely silent outside and you wondered what time it was. Reaching over for your phone it was 7:04AM. "Joe...Joe, baby wake up." You shake him awake before he wakes up suddenly out of a panic. "What?! Are we getting flooded!?" He wakes up looking around with sleep still on his face which made you giggle. "No, the storm is over and we're on the second floor." You snort brushing his wet hair out of his face. "How bad is it?" He asks getting off you. "Don't know, I've been stuck under 200 pounds of man." You joke making Joe roll his eyes.

You two get up from the bed and you make your way to his shower. Thankfully the water was still on. "We have water, I'm gonna take a quick shower." You say and Joe nods. You both take a nice cool shower in order to cool down with the Louisiana humidity and heat starting seep through early in the morning. As Joe showers, you open the blinds and see a random chair in his balcony that was not there yesterday and a bunch of debris and leaves. You gasped looking at the semi flooded parking lot and a tree that was on the floor and on a car across the street. There was a few students already outside picking stuff up and checking stuff out. "And you were judging me for being nervous." Joe mutters kissing your cheek as he stands behind you looking at everything. "I just didn't want you to have an anxiety attack mister." You roll your eyes at him. You give him a quick peck and then he fetches his phone out of his pocket, someone was calling him.

"Hello?" Joe answers. You were surprised there was signal and decided to text Ella to see if her, Sprinkles and Beth were okay. "Yeah, where at? I can try my best I don't know how the roads are looking. Half my street is flooded." Joe says and you raise an eyebrow at him wondering what he was talking about. Ella texts back saying that there's really bad Joe hangs up and lets out a breath. "Guys are getting together to help out with cleaning around campus and some of the neighborhoods." Joe says. "Let's do it." You shrug. "I mean, you can stay here-- and have you walking in flooded waters not knowing there could be an electric wire there and have LSU's QB get fried like a french fry? Yeah, no. I'll put on my rain boots." You kiss his cheek. "Know it all." He rolls his eyes following you inside. "C'mon, now is where the real hurricane party starts where we get to rebuild our community!" You smile cheerfully. "We're still going to finish those Twilight movies by the way!" Joe says after you.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hope everyone being affected by this hurricane stays safe! Thought a little Joe fic would maybe ease the anxiety of it all 🖤

#joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow one shot #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow angst

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nokacchan · 1 year

Text

Really Down Bad For You | Before School's Out | Lee Felix

pairing : lee felix x fem!reader

genre : fluff , student council!felix , frenemies to lovers , camping theme , mention of injury (nothing serious) , felix likes teasing reader for fun

≡;- ꒰ blurb ꒱ : lee felix has always been on your nerves no matter what he does. One fine day you find yourself in his arms after you sworn that you'll never let your guards down when you're around him.

w.c 4.6k

📎rei notes : this is my 1st submission (based on the voting after 48hrs) for Before School's Out Series!~ I hope you look forward to our next member submission, lee know~ see you guys around~ byebye

≡;- ꒰ masterlist ꒱

The date for your graduation was coming up soon. Since you are part of the student council club, they had organized a school camp, a way to celebrate and wind down after all, you are going to college and you aren't going to see a lot of your classmates.

"Yah! Felix!", you yelled as you pushed Felix's hand away from your hair. He let out a chuckle. You glared at him as you adjusted your messed up ponytail.

The two of you are part of the student council. Highly hand picked by your principal. Felix is the council president while you are the vice council president, aka his personal assistant as what he likes to call you.

He had this habit of bossing you around. Name any female student council member that you complain to about him but all their answer would be for you is that he likes you. You obliviously didn't believe it. You took it as him just trying to be an annoying friend.

"you're going right?"

"Yup. If I didn't go, you'll probably have gone insane by the end of camp"

Felix laughed at your response. You weren't wrong about that part. Your eyes still focused on arranging the forms for the school camp. He smiled unknowingly as he watched your side profile.

He knew about the rumors that have been

circulating the whole school. He wasn't against it because they were technically correct. He does have a huge crush on you, it's that he didn't tell you about it.

You being the vice council president did give him more reason to be close with you and more excuses to start a conversation.

It was just that his way of showing that he likes you is by teasing you. He likes seeing you get annoyed whenever he disturbs you for fun. It was no harm since you weren't too bothered or offended by it. The two of you were reputable known as frenemies by your other peers.

Eventually the day of the camp came by. The first day of camp went well as planned. You and Felix got to shoot each other with the water guns during one of the water activity games that you guys planned.

When the night had fallen, everyone headed back to their respective cabin. And you hated it. Why? Your roommate for the camp was an enemy of yours, her name is Eunbi.

Neither did you nor Felix have control over who shared the cabin with who. Felix was the only lucky one who got a cabin all to himself. It's his perks of being the student council president.

All you wanted was to rest up for the night and enjoy your time at camp. However, Eunbi was making everything so difficult for you.

Your small fights escalated from talking about not liking each other to...you guessed it, Lee Felix.

"You're stealing him away from me", she exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes at her. You were annoyed by her never ending claim that you were stealing felix away from her. No one owns him. And it wasn't as if Felix was dating her in the first place.

"You're spouting nonsense again, Eunbi", you let out a sigh.

"UGH! I hate you, get out", she groaned as she tried to push you out of the cabin. You huffed in frustration.

Taking your phone, torch and a jacket with you. You headed out of the cabin. Hoping to cool down and head back when Eunbi falls asleep.

But it turns out, she locked you out of your own cabin. Isn't she a menace to society. Yeah...

You looked at the time and it was past midnight, there was no way the teachers were still awake.

You sighed in defeat. As you walked down the pathway, your torchlight suddenly goes dark, causing you to trip on a rock, scrapping your knee at the same time. You let out a groan as you made your way to sit by the dimly lit up lake.

'you stupid ass b—', you muttered under your breath as you looked down at your scrapped knee.

"Y/n? Is that you?", a voice called out.

You turned to look at where it came from. Only to see felix. He had his torchlight pointing at you, a blanket in his hand he had hung up outside a couple hours ago.

You waved lazily in response. Not wanting to bother him. He walked towards you. He stood in front of you.

When the cold air blew, you hissed quietly at the burning pain of your knee. Felix immediately noticed, he shone down his light to look at your leg.

"Why didn't you head back to your cabin? It's cold out here", Felix's brows furrow as he draped the blanket on your shoulder. Making sure it was keeping you warm in the freezing temperature, despite having a jacket on.

You shook your head. Pulling the blanket draped across your shoulders closer.

"It's nothing. You should head back", you looked away from him.

"I'm only going back, if you're going back. Let's go to my cabin first, I have a first aid kit. I'll get you patched up then I'll send you back to your cabin", he stuck his hand out, waiting for you to accept it.

You sighed in defeat as you held his hand. Letting him drag you along with him, back to his cabin.

"aren't you going to tell me, what you were doing outside, this late?", he raised his brows at you. You let out a sigh. Felix moved to sit beside you on his bed.

"Eunbi locked me out after we got into a fight", felix brows furrow at your answer.

"about what?"

"it's stupid...", you grunt. Felix looked at you, his expression of 'just tell me'. You looked down at your lap.

"You. Eunbi likes you and she says I'm stealing you away from her", you mumbled. It was so embarrassing to tell him.

Felix let out a chuckled which now made your brows furrow. You didn't understand why he laughed, well that was until he explained the next part.

"She isn't wrong. You stole my heart", he pinched your cheek, a grin on his lips.

Your cheeks heat up, feeling flustered. You can't deny the fact that this man was smooth as heck with his words.

"So, wanna prove her theory correct?", Felix added on.

Well guess who has a boyfriend now? yes you. Now, the only thing you have to worry about is how you are going to respond to the teachers when they find out you slept over in felix's cabin.

The end.

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— likes/reblogs/feedbacks are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading<3

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geminisecrets · 1 year

Text

Soul Meets Body

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! NSFW! Explicit sexual content, coarse language, oral sex, smut, unprotected sex, alcohol, I think that's it???

Word Count: 6.8K

Summary: Just a smutty, wintery, friends to lovers, college Sam AU!

Authors Note: Surprise!!!!! It's Sam instead! We absolutely cannot write the Jake one anymore without hating it all and cringing, but we managed to crank this bad boy out in like 3 days instead so... we hope you like it!

Y’all are super duper fuckin' rad for telling us what you think about our stuff. ☯️

Requests are open :)

Join our tag list ✨

“You’re such a drag,” Sam slurred, finally letting go of my hand, before shuffling back into the mass of dancing bodies. ‘I don’t dance’ is the understatement of the century. The idea of moving my body like that in front of a mirror, alone, in my room, is enough to make me cringe, let alone on a dance floor at a crowded bar.

There was no bite in his tone, but I rolled my eyes at him nonetheless. He’s known me long enough to know that it doesn’t matter how many G&Ts I’ve had, I will not be joining him on the dance floor. I stay perched at the high top table we’d been drinking at for hours, now. As I shift my hips, I feel the indent I’ve molded into the velvet cushion.

What I lack in confidence and a carefree social presence, Sam more than makes up for. It’s been that way since we first became friends. I met him a little over a year ago through our mutual friend, Danny. Dan and I were in the same chem lab during our freshman year and Sam was his roommate. The three of us became fast, easy friends and our individual friends melded effortlessly into our dynamic.

We find ourselves, now, without those friends for the first time on a Saturday night, maybe ever. Sam and I had hung out alone before, sure. We’d studied together, ran to grab coffee between classes, helped the other stumble back to residence after a night out, but we’d never planned something like this. I don’t know if we ever would, had this opportunity not fallen into our laps.

“A bar promotion, Sam? Seriously?” I’d asked.

“Come on, I know it’s not really your scene, but it’s December twenty-seventh. Everyone else will be home for Christmas.” He whined, puppy dog eyes in full effect, as he kneeled in front of my chair.

“Sam–” I started, ready to beg him to stand back up and not make a scene in the middle of the library.”

“Just go with him so he’ll shut up, please,” Danny whispered, nose shoved deep in his textbook.

“The tickets are free,” Sam continued, folding his hands and placing them neatly on my knees. “That old guy at the radio station gave them to me.” I stayed quiet, eyes searching his as I considered the plea.

Sam and I would be the only two out of all of our friends to be on campus for Christmas. I hadn’t been on speaking terms with my parents for years and his internship at the local radio station prevented him from taking any time off this season. ‘The newbies get the holiday shifts, sorry, kid,’ they said.

I knew he was going to win me over eventually. I had absolutely no reason not to say yes. No plans, no family to see, no other friends around.

“I’ll buy you as many gin and tonics as you can handle,” he finally said, wagging his eyebrows, “maybe more than you can handle, if you’re lucky.” A grin slowly spread across my lips as my eyes squinted at him, really testing the waters to see if he was serious.

“Fine, deal.” I caved.

“Yes!” He exclaimed a little too loudly for our current setting. Danny shoved his shoulder, nearly toppling him over, as I slapped a hand over his mouth, giggling quietly in the crowded library.

The more I watch him, now, the more I really do, for once, wish I was the dancing type. He looks so genuinely happy singing along and swaying his hips. Uncoordinated and awkward as he may be, he’s having fun. It isn't until one of the girls next to him turns around to back herself into him that I felt a different feeling entirely. As she swivels her ass back against him, his eyes shoot to mine immediately.

I wasn’t expecting that. I barely have time to change the look on my face, let alone wrestle with the feeling in my gut before his eyes meet mine. My knee-jerk reaction is to raise my eyebrows at him and smile, giving him a weak thumbs up to show I’m impressed. He laughs, tossing his head back and mocking me with a returned thumbs up.

I look back down at my phone on the table and contemplate faking an emergency to get some fresh air. When I chance a glance back up at the couple, I regret it immediately. The knot of regret in my belly comes from two distinct places. First, I was seeing something I really didn’t want to see: Sam’s hands wandering low on her hips, his middle finger tugging on her belt loop, pulling her closer to him with the rhythm of the music. Second, I was face to face with exactly the feeling I’d been pushing down since the moment I saw Sam walking toward me with Danny a year and a half ago.

I’d been trying incredibly hard for months to compartmentalize my feelings for Sam. I knew he was off limits the second Danny had introduced him to me, but as cheesy as it sounds, the heart wants what it wants. I’d forced myself to look the other way when he’d smile at me. I’d told myself the way he touched my side was nothing more than a gesture. I’d pushed down all the butterflies I’d feel when he told me a secret or brushed his hair behind his ear.

But tonight? There’s no stopping it. It hits me like a brick wall. I’m face to face with the reality that I’ve been falling for him all this time. It’s as I feel my heart rate begin to speed up and my breath come a little less evenly that I know I have to do something. Leaving isn’t an option. Way too obvious and I don't want to ditch him. I go with option two and order myself two more shots and a double gin and tonic.

With a deep breath and a quick prayer that it wouldn't all come back up, I down the shots and the drink in the span of sixty seconds. After a few deep breaths, I decided to stop ‘being a drag’ as Sam had so eloquently put it. I brush my hair behind my ears and make my way to the dance floor. I keep my phone and glass of, now just ice, in my hand like some sort of security blanket as I weave through the crowd. At first, I was sure I didn’t want Sam to see me; I didn't want him to notice that I had ventured out into the sea of bodies. Of course I don't really know how this kind of thing works. I’m relying completely on the liquid courage to move me. When I assume I’ve made it to the middle of the crowd, I close my eyes and think back to all the cliched instructions I’d heard before. Things like: don’t move to the music, let the music move you. And, pretend no one’s watching.

The more I feel the alcohol in my bloodstream, the more those cliches start to make sense. I sway there for a few moments, hips feeling the beat, before I feel a body press up against my back.

“Sorry–” I start, turning around to see who I’d bumped into.

“You’re good,” a pair of bright blue eyes replies, smiling. “This okay?” he asks, hands moving to my hips as he swayed us along to the song. I nod, a blush rising to my cheeks as he brings my hands up to place them around his neck. He hugs me closer as the song changes to something a little slower, the bass thumping so loudly, I feel it in my tummy. The song is something I’d heard before. A classic, but some modern, bastardized version of it. I smile thinking about how much Sam must be hating it.

I continue thinking about Sam. As Blue Eyes’ hands creep a little lower on my back, I imagine they’re his. As the bassline in the song begins to build, I run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and wish it was longer, softer, lighter. When I touch the tip of my nose to his neck, I imagine this is how Sam smells, warm, soft, and a little sweaty, but I press my lips against it anyway. I feel the groan vibrate out of his throat as his hands dare to dip into the back pockets of my jeans.

My heart begins to race. Muted, thumping, and heavy, I feel it deep in my chest. Longing. Desire. Carnal and raw. I’m starting to understand the appeal of not being a wallflower on nights like tonight.

“Sam,” I murmur.

“It’s Ben,” he laughs. I pull back to look at him, humiliation painting my features. “It’s okay,” he says, lips at my ear.

And that’s when I see Sam walking toward me with a surprised smile on his face. He winks at me and backs away, but as soon as he does, I want him closer again. I want him to feel how I felt watching someone else’s hands all over him. The logical side of my brain tells me he won’t care. He doesn’t have feelings for you like that, why would he give a fuck? But, the very drunk, much louder, side of my brain is yelling at me to try anyway.

With a smile, I look up at Ben and shake my head, “I’m fine!” I assure him. With my hands on his cheeks, I press my lips to his. In the back of my mind, I’m willing Sam to still be standing there. Ben gives into me, holding me tighter as his lips slot into mine. Getting brave, I lick into his mouth.

“Mmph,” he grimaces, pulling back, “gin.”

“Do I taste like a pine tree?” I ask, trying to taste my own breath. He chuckles and nods.

“I hot pine tree, but a very drunk one,” he states. “Where are your friends?” he asks. I look over his shoulder to see Sam standing by the bar, fiddling with his straw, trying to make it look like he’s not watching me. I’m sure he’s imagining this is what it would be like to see a unicorn or, more likely a train wreck. Ben’s line of vision follows mine and when he and Sam make eye contact, Ben nods, signaling Sam to come over.

What was supposed to be a sexy attempt to make him jealous now makes my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I feel like a kid getting in trouble. Sam sucks the rest of his drink down and abandons it on the bar to stalk toward us, a smug look on his face.

“Hey,” he says loudly, over the music, “you good?” he asks. I nod.

“I hope I see you again,” Ben says, kissing me on the cheek before meandering away from us.

“What was that?” Sam asks. I bury my face in my hands and lean my forehead against Sam’s chest, groaning.

“I’m so embarrassed,” I mumble.

“What?” He calls, clearly unable to hear me.

“Can you just dance with me?” I look up at him, asking pathetically.

He feigns shock and delight, gesturing to himself dramatically. “Moi?”

I roll my eyes and make an attempt to escape to the bathroom, but he grabs my wrist and stops me.

“Hey, hey hey,” he chuckles. “I’m teasing. Of course I’ll dance with you.”

I let him pull me closer. The song changes again to something with a little more soul. Another classic, but this time with much less autotune and unnecessary techno- drum tracks.

“Finally, someone in this hellhole has taste,” he yells.

“Enough,” I laugh, hugging my arms around his neck. He reciprocates, holding me closer to him and moving to the beat of the music. I still feel a little stiff, despite the fact that I can barely feel my feet due to the amount of alcohol in my system.

“You’ve gotta loosen up,” he says into my ear. His hands travel to my hips and he sways them for me. He’s joking at first, dramatically rocking them right to left, but when I pull back to look at him, his eyes are burning holes through mine. “Like this,” he says. He nods his head to the beat, lip caught between his teeth and hands at my hips again, this time taking another step impossibly closer, chest pressing against mine.

I feel it again. The butterflies, fluttering so rapidly I fear I might vomit them all up. Instead, I close my eyes and focus on the way his hands feel on me. They’re warm and big and they’re slowly digging harder and harder into the skin at my waist.

He’s signing along now and he takes a big step back, grabbing my hands in his and spins me around so that his chest is pressed to my back. Immediately I feel a shift in the energy between us. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the way I practically feel his heart hammering against my back, but whatever it is gives me the courage to test the waters and press my ass back against him.

He seems to approve and shows me just that by bringing one hand around to rest over my belly button and the other to brush the hair over my shoulder so he can press his lips to the shell of my ear.

“There you go,” he coaxes.

That really is all the encouragement I need to let my hips move on their own accord, grinding against him slowly and as coordinated as I can. It takes all my focus to get the rhythm down, but the way he moves behind me helps me keep time.

My right hand moves to cover his on my stomach and the left grips his thigh as I brace myself, letting him keep both of us upright. The hand on my stomach bravely slips under the hem of my top, resting just above my belly button. My heart is beating so forcefully that I’m sure he can hear it. I let my head loll back against his shoulder and as I look up at the bright flashy lights in the bar, I begin to feel dizzy.

“Fuck, Sam,” I say, holding on to his arm a little tighter to keep my balance. I try to communicate that I need to sit down or go home or really be anywhere but here in this hot, crowded, flashy bar.

“I know,” he says, squeezing at my waist again, misreading my signals entirely, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” My eyes dart open and at this point I’m sure it’s the gin messing with my perception.

“Yeah?” I ask, standing up a little straighter, turning back around slowly in his arms to face him.

“Shit, is it okay that I said that?” He asks, eyes searching mine, but his are just as glossy and gazed over.

“Sam, I think we should go,” I say, convinced that he’s completely delusional and possibly even more fucked up than I am. He cringes visibly and runs his hand through his hair. “Come on.” I take his hand in mine and lead him through the crowd, past the bar and to the coat check. I rummage through my pockets, but realize Sam has our tickets. He reaches past me silently and hands them to the girl behind the counter. In turn, she hands us our coats. We shuffle past the group of people at the door and step out onto the street.

The second we’re outside, the better I can breathe. The urge to vomit subsides and I can think a little more clearly.

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” he winces, walking briskly down the sidewalk. It’s clear that denial and avoidance is the route he’s choosing and, truly, I can't blame him, considering that was the game I played with my feelings for him for as long as I’d known him.

“Let’s Uber, please, my fingers are going to fall off,” I whine. “There’s no chance I’m making it all ten blocks back to my place.”

“Just stay at mine, it’s only three blocks if you cut through the park,” he slows down slightly, allowing me to catch up. “Plus, nothing sobers you up like the brisk walk back home,” he explains.

“Fine,” I relent, not in the mood to argue, “but if my fingers freeze off from frostbite, you’re going to have to type all my papers next semester.”

The walk back to his residence is, in fact, brisk. It’s also relatively quiet. Other than a few remarks from both of us about how cold it is and how much we wish we were already inside, it’s silent between us.

I shiver underneath the awning of his building as he fumbles with this keycard. Finally, he swipes it and we’re inside. I follow him up the familiar path to room three hundred and fifteen. When he unlocks the door, I find Danny’s side of the room completely spotless. Bed made, desk chair pushed in, even his nightstand is tidy and clean.

Sam’s side, on the other hand, as usual, looks like a bomb went off. There’s laundry littering the desk and unmade bed and open books and vinyl records covering every other surface.

“Do you want the bathroom first?” He asks, gesturing to the tiny ensuite to the left.

“No, you can go,” I offer. He doesn't seem to put up much of a fuss and grabs change of clothes before shutting the bathroom door behind him.

I suddenly feel incredibly vulnerable. The room is dark except for the light from the street lamps shining in between the slats of the large blinds and the small salt lamp on Sam’s nightstand. I hug my coat tighter against me and sit on the edge of Danny’s bed. I do my best not to get lost in my thoughts as I hear the toilet flush and the water run from the sink.

I hear it over and over as I stare at the mess of sheets and pillows on Sam’s bed.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Surely he was just wasted and horny. He would have said that to anything with a pulse at that point. The more I thought about it, the more I could practically feel him, warm and hard against me as he moved his hips against my ass. The click of the bathroom door opening shocks me out of my own head.

“All yours,” he offers, stepping into the bedroom in nothing but a pair of old boxers. Slut.

Two could play this game. I hadn’t planned on sleeping over, of course, so I brought nothing with me. I rummaged through Danny’s drawers until I found a baggy t-shirt and take it with me into the tiny bathroom. I haphazardly rub at my face with what I beg, is a clean washcloth and some warm water in a very lame attempt to take my makeup off. Part of me knows I’ll regret even trying in the morning, but two AM me could not care less. I swish a capful of mouthwash around in my mouth and pray that does the trick for the time being. I look around for a brush after I change into the t-shirt, but can’t find one.

When I open the door to the bedroom, it’s a little brighter. Sam had turned on the small lamp on Danny’s nightstand.

“Brush?” I ask, assuming that between the two of them there had to be one kicking around.

“Top drawer,” he offers, gesturing to his dresser as he scrolls on his phone from under the covers. I try to ignore the way his eyes peek over the top of the screen and land on my bare thighs.

I follow his direction and fish out a paddle brush from the drawer. Mindlessly, I brush through my hair and mosey back into the bathroom to drink as much water from the sink as I can before turning off the light and crawling into Danny’s bed. I reach over and click the light off, realizing that, thanks to the walk home and the bastardized nighttime routine, I’m feeling incredibly sober at this point. I thank God that I’m going to bed drunk, but wish I was fucked up enough to be able to pass out easily. I know that’s not going to be the case tonight.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Sam finally says.

“Thanks for asking me,” I reply, stretching my legs in an attempt to get comfortable in the foreign bed.

It’s quiet. Really quiet. I can’t hear cars or people outside the window. I can’t even hear Sam shuffling in the twin bed next to mine. All I can hear is the faint ringing in my ears and the sound of my own breathing.

I don’t know what time I eventually fall asleep, but when I wake up, it's the first thing on my mind. Before I even open my eyes, I hear him say, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” It’s still dark out. I lie still for a few moments in the eerie quietness of the early morning before I can’t take it anymore.

As quietly as I can, I slip out from underneath the covers, grab my bra and top off the floor and zip my coat up over Danny’s t-shirt. It’s as I’m slipping my shoes on, that I look up to see Sam rolling over. I freeze like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and hear the low, evenness of his breathing again, insinuating he’s fallen back asleep.

I allow myself a good ten seconds to take in the sight before me. The only light in the room is emanating from the dim salt lamp on his nightstand. God damn him for looking so soft and perfect in the low, warm, pink light. His hair delicately falls onto his cheek as though it was placed there for a photograph. His bare back rises and falls slowly as he hugs the pillow underneath him. His lips are plump as his cheek, pressed against the pillow, squishes them into a pursed kiss.

He looks so beautiful, I’m afraid that if I stand there looking at him any longer, I’ll cry. So, instead I click the door open. I think I’m in the clear until I hear him sleepily call my name. Fuck.

“Yeah?” I whisper, turning back to look at him as he squints up at me, the harsh fluorescents from the hallway tarnishing the picture painted by the warm light of the lamp.

“Where are you going?” He whispers.

“Um–” I start.

“You don't have to go,” he grumbles, sitting up.

“No, Sam it’s okay, go back to–”

“I can’t go back to sleep thinking you’re leaving because of what I said,” he confesses. He looks so gentle and genuine and docile sitting in the mess and tangle of blankets. I sigh and close the door behind me, accepting that I won’t be escaping easily tonight.

As I drop my bag back on Danny’s desk chair, Sam turns the other lamp on, illuminating the room further. I can see him more clearly now. I can see the sleep in his eyes, but there’s an urgency behind them, like his mind is far more attentive than his body is at this hour of the night.

He leans back against the wall, facing Danny’s bed, sheets covering him from the waist down. I can feel his eyes track me as I shrug my coat off, left once again in only Danny’s oversized t-shirt. I crawl into Danny’s bed and mirror his position. Facing him with the covers pulled up around my hips. It’s quiet for a moment, but the silence is saying so much.

“I thought you were just wasted,” I grin, unable to make eye contact. He breathes a laugh out of his nostrils.

“I was,” he confesses, “but…I stand by it. I’ve thought about pretty much that exact scenario quite a few times.” I can feel the blush rise to my cheeks as I pull my knees up to my chest and cross my arms over them. I rest my chin on my forearms and look directly at him, hoping that by making myself smaller, I can hide away from the very real panic bustling up my chest. “Please say something, you’re killing me, here,” he laughs uncomfortably.

“I have too,” I finally admit. His face lights up at that and I feel my heart start to pound. I imagine it keeping time with his, the beats in sync with one another.

“Yeah?” He smiles. I nod. “Cool.”

“Cool.” I echo. It’s quiet again and I can't help but notice the way he’s shifted in his bed, the blankets falling lower on his torso.

“I really want to kiss you,” he admits, boldly. “Can I kiss you?”

I nod again. “Yeah, you can kiss me.” When he doesn't move, I begin to feel dread rise in my throat before he says:

“I wanted to make a move but… you’re gonna have to come to me,” he says. “Don’t think I could, in good conscience, make out with you in Danny’s bed.” I laugh and throw the cover off of my legs, sliding off of the bed and taking the three steps over to Sam’s. He welcomes me by lifting his duvet, making room for me to join him under the covers.

“Better,” he says, once we’re side by side. His hand reaches out to cup my cheek and he shakes his head and chuckles in disbelief as he leans in to press his lips against mine.

Everyone always describes magical first kisses with someone as fireworks, but this doesn't feel explosive at all. It’s hot, yes, I’m warm all over, but I’d describe the heat more like lava. It’s slow, languid, all consuming. His hand moves from my cheek, around to the back of my neck, pulling me in closer, guiding me.

Our kiss breaks with a smacking sound. “Sam?” I murmur. He hums in reply. “What about Danny?”

“You’re thinking about Danny right now?” He pulls away to look at me, hand still in my hair. I can’t help but laugh, lips hovering over his.

“I just– I don't want to fuck things up with our friends.” I admit. “Like will things be weird when everyone’s back?”

A sly smile grows on his lips. “They already know.”

“They– how?” I ask, pulling back to see his face clearly.

“No, not about– this–” he gestures between us, “but Danny definitely knows how I feel about you.”

“Oh,” I smile. “Okay, and he wasn’t weird about it?”

“Who do you think gave me the idea to beg you to go with me tonight?” He asks. That’s all the validation I need before climbing into his lap and kissing him again. The sound that comes from the back of his throat as I straddle his hips is enough to bring me to my knees. His hands grab at my waist as mine tangle in his hair. I can’t help but smile to myself as he sucks my lower lip into his mouth. It was starting to get pathetic, the amount of times I’d dreamt of this moment with Sam.

The kiss gets heavy fast as I test the waters by ever so slightly swiveling my hips in his lap. His lips move to my neck as his hands on my waist replicate the motion by moving them himself. I can’t contain the huffs of air coming from my open mouth as he controls my hips just like he had when we were dancing at the bar.

“Oh my God, Sam,” I whisper. He responds by biting into the flesh at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

“Lay down for me?” He asks quietly. I obey, climbing off his lap and resting my head on his pillow.

“This okay?” I ask, lifting the baggy t-shirt up above my belly button, implying that I’m ready to take it off. Sam kneels above me, straddling my hips, looking down at the exposed skin and reaching out to touch.

“What if I wanna do that part?” he asks.

“You wanna take my shirt off, Sam?” I tease, returning the smile. He nods, reaching for the hem.

“Um–” I take his hand in mine, stopping his actions. “Where are your manners?” His lips part like he’s about to speak, but then shut into a sly grin.

“Well, excuse me.” He puts his hand on his chest, sinking down to sit on my thighs that are spread slightly below him. “Not very polite of me, was it?” He takes my hands in his and lifts them above my head until they’re pinned against the pillow. His lips hover centimeters from mine when he says, “May I, pretty please–”

“–with a cherry on top–”

“–with a cherry on top, see your beautiful body?”

“‘Course you can.” I smile, pursing my lips out to reach his. He kisses me back with fervor, hands trailing down my arms and down to my sides, sliding under my shirt. His hands are warm and calloused, but not rough like I’d expect a musician’s to be. He keeps kissing me as his hands explore my torso, finally cupping my breasts. I break the kiss with a gasp as he kneads them roughly, lips moving back to my neck. I hum out my satisfaction as he contrasts the firm grasp he has on me with gentle, wet, sucking kisses to my neck.

His hands begin their path south as do his lips. I arch my back to accommodate him pulling the t-shirt over my head to toss onto the floor.

“Perfect,” he mumbles, looking me over and leaning back down to press kisses to my sternum and down to my belly button. The fingers of his left hand move to hook into the waistband of my underwear and I feel panic rise up in me.

“Wait, wait,” I gasp, grabbing his hand. Sam pulls away to look at me, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “I just… I’ve never…”

“Oh, shit I’m sorry,” he tries to understand. “Oh, that’s okay, we don’t have to–” He sits up immediately, wiping the spit from his chin and running a hand through his hair.

“No, no, I’m not, like– I’m not a virgin, I just,” I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for the words that are about to come out of my mouth. “No one’s ever–”

“No one’s ever gone down on you before?” He asks. I shake my head. “Ever?” He clarifies.

“I mean I guess I don’t blame my boyfriend in highschool and the guy I was seeing last year just said he wasn’t into it,” I shrug.

“But he probably expected you to blow him, right?” Sam asks, leaning back in toward me, his elbow resting on the bed between my hip and the wall.

“Yeah, I guess. We didn’t date for that long, though, and–”

Sam interrupts me with a call of my name and then proceeds, “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do, but,” his eyes wander up and down my body and his hand sneaks below the fabric of my shirt, toying with the elastic of my underwear. “I really want to go down on you.” I feel the heat in my cheeks and I know I must be bright red.

“You want to?” I question, finding it hard to believe. “I thought guys just put up with doing it. Like it was a chore or something.” The smirk that slowly rises to Sam’s lips will be permanently etched into the fabric of my mind.

Sam clicks his tongue disappointedly, sitting up to hover over me once again. “You were wasted on such selfish lovers,” he says, lowering his body down on top of mine and kissing the skin just above my breast, his lips trail higher and higher, sucking a line of kisses up to my ear before whispering, “can I show you?” he asks, “can I show you how good it can be? For both of us?”

“Okay.” I breathe, tilting my hips up to grind against his, showing him how much I want just that. He groans into my neck as he grinds his hips down to meet mine. I can feel how hard he is and it makes me dizzy with desire. “Okay I want you to.”

“Promise me,” he confirms.

“I promise,” I nearly laugh. “Believe me, I want you to.”

“Okay,” he whispers, kissing my cheek. “Thank you,” another kiss to my jaw, “thank you,” kiss, “thank you,” kiss, until he’s pressing the most gentle pecks to the skin above my belly button. He looks up at me beneath his eyelashes and I can’t quite see him over the swell of my breasts, so I shift up onto my elbows, gaining confidence.

“You look good between my legs, Kiszka,” I smirk as he, once again, hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and pulls them down my thighs. Gently, he spreads my knees apart and gets down on his stomach between them. The confidence I had built from Sam practically begging to eat me out shrivels and dies the second he’s face to face with the most intimate part of me, but once again dissipates as he presses kisses to the insides of my thighs and pubic bone.

“You look pretty good from this angle, too.” He says before finally licking one slow stripe up my center. He closes his eyes and I thank God because I’m sure the way I’m practically drooling and sweating watching him do this is the farthest from sexy I could get. Slowly and methodically, he licks up and down my center, getting me used to the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive skin.

Just when I’ve started to collect my breath, he flattens his tongue and adds more pressure to his licks, flicking his tongue up at the end as he reaches my clit.

“Oh, fuck,” my hips jump away from the mattress at the feeling of the tip of his tongue teasing me. His right hand moves from where it was at my side to flatten over the skin below my belly button, attempting to hold me still against the bed.

He surprises me by alternating licks with gentle sucking my clit between his lips. I squirm underneath him, releasing my elbows from underneath me, no longer strong enough to hold myself up when I feel his finger slip between my folds.

His lips and tongue focus on drawing firm, wet circles around my clit as his finger slowly slides into me.

“I need you, Sam,” I moan with my face turned to the side, voice muffled into the pillow. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Gonna make you cum first, gorgeous,” he says, “can you do that for me?’ I nod. “Tell me,” he pleads, “tell me you’ll cum for me.”

“I will,” I promise as he adds another finger.

“You will what?” he taunts.

“I’ll cum, I’ll cum,” I huff as his fingers pick up speed.

“Cum for who?” He continues his interrogation.

As I’m about to answer, he curls his fingers upward inside me, causing me to gasp and yell, “you! Fuck, I’m gonna cum for you.”

“Alright, alright, no need to shout,” he grins, using his lips to return to the work he’d started on my clit.

“Fuck you,” I groan with absolutely no malice, gripping the sheets in my hands as he licks and sucks at me.

I know he can tell I’m close by the way he keeps his pace with his fingers and tongue and I cum around his fingers moments later.

“Thank you,” I breathe as he kisses my thighs while I come down. “Come here,” I reach out for him. He crawls up beside me and kisses my cheek. I turn my face to the side and catch his lips in a kiss. I move to sit up and he makes room for me to press him back against the foot of the bed, straddling his hips.

“I don’t think we’re very fairly matched here,” I say looking down at the layer of fabric between us.

“Allow me,” he says, reaching down to pull his boxer briefs off.

“Ah, ah, ah–” I stop him. “What if I wanna do that part?” I parrot his sentiment from earlier. He crosses his arms behind his head, fully relaxing into the mess of sheets and pillows underneath him.

“By all means,” he smiles up at me. I lean down to kiss his lips as my hands palm the hard bulge between his legs. He moans into my mouth as I squeeze and pump his cock over his underwear before sliding them down his legs.

My lips press against his cheek, down his neck and back up to his ear. “Are you gonna fuck me, Sam?” I ask, hand reaching back down to palm at his now bare cock.

“Jesus,” he sighs as I lick the shell of his ear, gaining momentum with my strokes.

“Hmm?” I press.

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah I’m gonna fuck you.” I hum approval in his ear as I line myself up over him.

“Gonna let me ride you?” I ask, teasing the tip against my center.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “you think you’re ready to go again? Not too sensitive?” he asks, reaching down to brush his finger over my clit.

“Fuck you,” I flinch at his touch, breath huffing out of me in a laugh. He leans up to kiss me again, sliding his tongue into my mouth and his hand into my hair as I lower down onto him. I stay still for a moment, adjusting to the size of him before lifting up and back down experimentally.

“Yeah, that’s so good,” he praises. I find a rhythm, bouncing up and down, feeling him slide almost all the way out before going back in again. I brace myself with my hands flat on his chest as he holds my ass in his hands and pumps up into me harder and faster.

“Oh my God, Sam,” I huff, trying to catch my breath as he hits my g-spot over and over. I reach down between us to circle my clit, chasing the orgasm I can feel building again. When Sam notices, he sits up, causing me to fall onto my back on the bed as he repositions himself and before I have time to think, he’s moving behind me so that we’re both on our sides.

“C’mere,” he says, taking my knee and lifting it under his forearm, spreading me open once again. “Can you hold your leg open for me?” he asks, pressing kisses to my neck as he repositions himself at my entrance. I agree, taking my leg, as he did, hooking in the crook of my arm. “Perfect, you’re doing so good. You’re perfect.”

I rest my head down on the pillow as he slips back inside of me, finding that same rhythm, but this time, snaking his hand down under my arm to touch me. I feel his lips at my ear as he rocks his hips against me, dragging his cock in and out and this new angle feels even better. I know I’m not far from another orgasm, and that’s confirmed when Sam’s fingers trace down my stomach and start to circle my clit.

Our breaths become more and more ragged and desperate as we climb toward release together.

“I’m gonna cum again, Sam.” I whine, clenching around him and before I know it, that warm, tingly euphoric feeling is washing over me. Sam moans and curses, face buried into my hair as he pulls out and finishes in his hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and it’s quiet for a few moments before he brushes my hair to out of my face and presses soft kisses to the back of my neck.

“I don’t think I have the energy to change these sheets,” I admit.

“Oh absolutely not,” he agrees.

“Don’t tell Danny?” I suggest, motioning to Danny’s bed, implying that it’s a more suitable option for us tonight.

“Don’t tell Danny.” Sam laughs in agreement.

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Taglist:

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#sammy kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka gvf #sam kiszka smut #sammy gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fanfiction #gretavanfleet #greta van fleet au #sam kiszka au

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saratinz · 1 year

Text

Maneater (Chapter 9)

pairing ➩ Ex!Bucky Barnes x Promiscuous!Reader (College AU)

series warnings ➩ drinking, asshole!Bucky, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, love triangle, smut, slut shaming, cursing

chapter warnings ➩ cursing, implied smut, hospital setting, reader does some embarrassing stuff, reader was drugged (nothing happened), pet names, making out, pda

synopsis ➩ Y/n finally admits her feelings.

word count ➩ 1.1k

a/n ➩ as a little gift from me to you, I give you the finale two hours early.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” You wake up groggy. “The police are asking to speak with you later.” Great. You start to wonder what the fuck you did last night to end up wanted by pigs and in a hospital gown. And what the fuck is Bucky doing here by your side, acting like the two of you are in love or something?

All of a sudden, memories start flooding back. You’re overwhelmed by the onslaught of hazy conversations. Oh yeah, Bucky being here makes a lot more sense when you remember you found him after being drugged by Jane. And it turns out the worst thing that could have happened, did indeed happen. “Oh god, James.” He cringes at the use of his first name.

“It’s Bucky.”

“Bucky, please tell me that I didn’t tell you I love you.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Buck I wasn’t drunk, I was roofied, I would’ve told Steve that I loved him.”

“But you didn’t, you told me.”

“Steve was here?”

“Yeah, and you told him to his face that you love me.”

“What did he say?”

“He, umm, still hasn’t changed if you’re asking what I think you’re asking.”

“Oh.”

“You dodged a bullet there. He has no empathy. Told me the only reason he came was to have sex with you again.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. After all, I don’t deserve shit.”

“Y/n, I wasn’t serious when I said that.”

“Call Steve for me, please.” It’s mere seconds before Bucky is pulling out his phone and finding Steve’s contact. He puts the phone on speaker, hoping that he will say something awful about you, and you'll finally realize his roommate isn't the one for you.

“Hey Steve, Y/n is asking for you.”

“Perfect, I’m actually on my way there already.”

“Wait, what?”

“I wanted to see her.”

“But what about last night?”

“You really want me to say it?”

“Yes.”

“You were right, I want a chance to be with her.”

“Okay.” He hangs up, surprising himself with the amount of jealousy that is festering in his body. It courses through his veins. He turns back to look at you.

“Jam- Bucky I hope you understand, I just don’t love you. It’s just the truth. And it’s okay, because you don’t love me either.”

“How do you know I don’t love you?”

“Because you don’t leave someone you secretly want to be with.”

“Please, you have to stop bringing that up.”

“You broke me.”

“I left you because I didn’t think I deserved you.”

“But you got with my best friend within weeks.”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t get to do this, you don’t get to come into my life, only to leave me again.”

“I’m not gonna leave you.”

“You said that last time, too.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You shouldn’t, but I don’t think I will be okay if I lose you again.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“SAY IT!”

“I love you, Y/n. I never stopped, I didn’t break because of Natasha, I broke because I had to watch as you became me.”

“Get out Bucky.” Tears flow steady down your face. He leaves without another word. Five minutes later, Steve walks in your room. You try your best to wipe your tears, but they’re still falling down your face.

“Hey Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Just Bucky, he’s an ass.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s just, he’s like a pathological liar or something.”

“I’m not following.”

“He uhh, he told me that he loves me.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, and I know I said it last night but I was high as a kite. I didn’t mean it.”

“You sure?”

“Yes Steve, I’m not over you. Can I please show you that I’m more than just my reputation?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Oh, okay. Can I ask why?”

“Because I’m a shit person, and a shit friend, but even I wouldn’t get between the two of you.”

“There is no ‘us’. I don’t even like him.”

“Maybe you don’t like him, but deep down you love him.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I fucking hate him.”

“Who’s the first person you think about when you wake up? Who’s the last person on your mind when you fall asleep? Who can you not ever seem to forget, no matter how hard you try? Who haunts your dreams? Who can get under your skin so fast he should earn a Guinness World Record?”

“I, uh, what do I do now?”

“I saw him in the gift shop, he’s probably there picking out a meaningful apology gift.” He suggests, snarky as ever.

“Thank you Steve.” You get out of bed and walk out of the room, still attached to your IV pole. You roll it to the elevator, impatiently pressing the button over and over again, despite knowing it won’t go any faster. Shit someone is coming, please close. You decide to be a good person and hold the door open, even though you just wanna get to Bucky. The stranger beside you presses the second floor button, damn it. It doesn’t take that long to get to the bottom, but you’re just so nervous it feels much longer. You head over to the gift shop, but you don’t see him. You wanna cry this is so embarrassing rolling around this big ass cart.

You’re about to give up, but then you spot him about to leave the hospital. He’s a step away from the door. Without thinking, you scream. “Bucky!” You feel eyeballs on you, suddenly, you feel very conscious of your attire. You thank god he heard you, so that you only have to go through a little bit of awkwardness. You run to him, almost tripping multiple times. When you finally come face to face with him, you forget everything you were planning to say. “I love you too.” You finally blurt out. He looks a little shocked, but then a big smirk starts to form. He lunges forward, pressing your front to his. You felt a little weird about making out in public, but his lips are so delectable you can’t stop. You finally come up for air, putting your forehead against his. You hope this feeling will last forever, for you're not sure what you would do without Bucky. You would have been tricked by Steve, or there would have been a video of you getting naked on the internet. But worst of all, you wouldn’t be in love. You pull his face towards yours to whisper in his ear. “Let’s go to my room.”

“Yes ma’am.”

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #college au #enemies to lovers #exes to lovers #love triangle #angst #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut

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callsignfate · 7 months

Text

College Laswell x Reader.

Involves: Kate Laswell and John Price.

(This is set in an early college time frame. Also, yes, I put you all in the same college at the same time. I don't care if it doesn't match up with the time frame of when they actually met or anything in the game of when they met. It's just a fun thing to write, I also wrote this offline on my phone notes app, I didn't edit or refine my writing at all, so this is basically what my writing is without any editing or refining of any sort so let me know if you like this style of writing or the more edited versions.)

May contain or discuss 18+ content or themes viewer discretion is advised!

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Price was an absolute fuck boy in his late teens/early 20's, the catch? Kate is his friend through the whole phase. Poor Kate. She watches these girls fall head over heels with him and his accent over and over, not to say he isn't a gentleman and transparent about the whole thing.

Kate watches these girls willingly throw themselves at him after he says the same thing he's said to every woman coming his way "I'm not looking for anything serious, dating isn't something I have time for or want to do."

Kate only knows this because of a few different ways. Mutual friends, rumors, and you. Kate always thought you were interested in John because you hung around him and often spent time with him if you'd get the chance. She just assumed you weren't going to say anything to her or anyone about it. That you were waiting for a time when he was interested in dating, for your chance with him.

She always wondered what you were doing when you went over to his dorm room because he had no roommate, meaning you two were alone and he's a playboy. Kate did playfully ask a few times if you were or had fucked John, you always had this shocked face and always said no almost immediately.

John, when asked by Kate, always winked or found a way to escape answering her questions. Kate, because of that, believed that you both had at least once or even twice in your many room visits.

Today, again, you were headed to go to his room alone. Kate had texted you asking if you were free after her class to go get lunch, you replied, sure, and you'd be at John's room, so to meet you there instead of yours.

Kate's chest felt heavier after reading your text. She had tried to take a deep breath and shake it off, but the feeling didn't budge. Her class that she actually had liked had become an immovable object in her own way. She watched the hands on the clock move slowly, making her frustrated and antsy in class, shifting and moving in her seat as she tried to focus.

To no avail, Kate left class fifteen minutes early, her mind buzzing and aching with her questioning her own feelings and reasoning for leaving class early. She hovered her finger over the text to tell you she was on her way to John's room before she sighed, put her phone away, and sped walked her way over, fidgeting with straps on her backpack as she walked.

She was thankful she was taller than the average woman, taking the stairs two or even three at a time easily. She stopped before his door, listening to hear if she could hear any sounds her mind pleaded she wouldn't.

She heard nothing but small whispers, a small signature John chuckle, She opened the door without knocking, which was unlike her but something you and John often did to each other. Kate had learned her lesson with not knocking before going into John's room once, and she never wanted to do, or see that, again.

She watched as you grabbed something and shoved it behind your back. She couldn't see or read the writing on it. It was too light and far away for her to even try. She noticed you and John were both sitting on the carpeted floor of his room comfortably. Her mind was buzzing again when she noticed you were sitting close, her thoughts running rampant on how comfortable you looked and were sitting near him.

You gave her a soft smile as you hid the paper behind your back, John looked as casual as ever as he rolled his eyes at you hiding through paper so obviously.

"Kate, you're here early, class end early?" John already knew the answer. It didn't. His friend took the class and hadn't texted him back or came over to his room yet to do their plans.

"Yea, I thought I'd head over since it ended early." She muttered, shooting him a confidant glare. She could see his cocky smile and the glint in his eyes that he knew she was lying. She just hoped he hadn't known or noticed why.

"Lunch?" She walked over and held her hand out to help you up from the sitting on the floor. You took it with a soft, happy smile and gave a quiet nod. You had tucked the paper into your back pocket and grabbed your backpack before you stood up and glanced back at John and motioned for him to take the paper from your pocket before Kate would try to take it.

He did quickly before tucking it into his own pants pocket quickly. Kate watched and observed most of this without you noticing she was watching this take place, although you were trying to hide it, obviously.

"Ready?" You asked with a small smile as you took your hand out of hers. You wanted to hold it longer but didn't want to make her uncomfortable. You shifted your bag strap on your shoulder as your bag was loosely slung over one shoulder uncomfortablely. You said goodbye to John, who gave you a smile 'see you later' before the door closed.

The lunch went as normal as every lunch you had with Kate. She talked about her classes, studied, and ate before you both parted ways for your next classes separately.

Kate knocked quickly, her head looking around quietly as she hoped no one would notice or see her at the door. She felt an arm yank her in immediately before she glared at him.

"What was the paper- What did it say?" Kate practically demanded before Price could say a word she always already looking for it. He laughed and sighed as he shook his head at her.

"Why don't you ask her?" He taunted, knowing she couldn't, or wouldn't dare ask you.

"Very funny, just tell me what it was." She said again as she looked and moved different things around his room without even looking his way.

"Kate, seriously, she'd kill me if you found out." John muttered as he was already considering giving the paper to her so she'd stop messing up his room, and so he could sleep for his morning classes.

"Well, what if I promise she won't find out?" Kate said finally as she turned around and held out her hand for the paper with a knowing smile.

"Fine- fine. If she finds out, then it's on you, I'm telling her you looked for it when I wasn't here and found it." John muttered as he pulled it out of his pants pocket and practically slapped it in her hand with a playfully frustrated sigh.

Kate's hands couldn't move fast enough as she unfolded the paper. She needed to know if you had actually had fucked John, she needed to know everything that was making her mind plagued with thoughts and questions. It was giving her a near constant dull ache in her chest.

The paper was filled on one side of little doodles of her looking different ways, focusing on papers or studies, looking out a window. She could tell the doodles were yours. She had seen you doodle on your work before, she smiled at them before she turned the paper over.

"Is- is this my likes and dislikes, a plan to ask me out, and places I might like to go out to?" Kate asked in shock. It was all little information that she had given to John from their years of friendship, and to you when you had asked her a question.

"Kids been trying to ask you out, I was just helping her as much as I could." John admitted with a small shrug and a smile.

"You knew she liked me?" Kate paused as she looked over the paper and information as her mind began to fill and become overwhelmed with endless questions and thoughts. "..and you knew I liked her back. You've said nothing?!" Kate whisper yelled at him as she scoffed at his amused smile.

"I've known, I wanted her to do it on her own, and I liked to fuck with you. I tried to offer her a chance to sleep with me a few weeks after she joined our little friend group. She said, and I quote, "I'd never fuck you if we were the last two people alive, no offense and all but I swing the other way, if you catch my drift." John said with a small laugh as he was reminded of the early months of your friendship. He had already knoticed your eyes, always watching and looking at Kate, how willing you were to walk, eat, or do anything you could to spend time with her.

"I can't believe you fucked with me, you made me think you had fucked, or were fucking." Kate hissed out in slight irritation as her eyes were glued to the paper gripped tightly in her hands intently.

"Yea well, payback for all of the times you told girls I was terrible in bed." John said as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Fair enough, I'm going to go see her." Kate, basically declared as she began folding the paper back up and putting it in her pocket.

"Woah, woah, you can't take that." Price muttered as he tried to reach for the paper to steal it back.

"I'll tell her I found it, like you said, don't worry." Kate muttered as she gave him back a tone, mocking his and a smile.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

(If you want more of this, just let me know, I left it at a sort of cliffhanger and I have more written it's just that it gets "spicy" in the next part when Laswell goes to your room.)

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