#god i miss going to the library so bad

[gooperts-gunk]

im so crazy over the tragedy of everything q!bbh does being under a demon pretense even though he's a fallen angel.

do u think he just accepts the demon label because it's easier. do u think he believes it too, and catches himself in his thoughts with "oh, right. im not exactly that". and maybe he believes that he did this to himself? do u think what he did was to protect himself or someone? no matter the fall, he still has so much kindness to give and his brain just isn't wired the way a natural-born demon would be, he can't hold back instincts when time demands it, maybe that's why he fell in the first place.

and when he's finally bad, not good, it's treated like the end of the world, without empathy on why he would act out. do you think this keeps happening? the same scenario, multiple times, every timeline? he has to be used to it. so he has to take it in stride. he's good until he lashes out under extreme pressure, and suddenly he's called demon. and once again he's what heaven made him out to be. what he made himself to be, his brain would ruthlessly provide...

i don't think he wants to be that, though he hides secrets behind secrets of which neither identity is a home... but i don't think he wants to have to change, either. and i don't think that's wrong of him.

...you collapse atlantis ONE TIME and all of a sudden YOU'RE the bad guy and SURE it was FUN but REALLY now,--

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

Hey so like many of you, I saw that article about how people are going into college having read no classic books. And believe it or not, I've been pissed about this for years. Like the article revealed, a good chunk of American Schools don't require students to actually read books, rather they just give them an excerpt and tell them how to feel about it. Which is bullshit.

So like. As a positivity post, let's use this time to recommend actually good classic books that you've actually enjoyed reading! I know that Dracula Daily and Epic the Musical have wonderfully tricked y'all into reading Dracula and The Odyssey, and I've seen a resurgence of Picture of Dorian Gray readership out of spite for N-tflix, so let's keep the ball rolling!

My absolute favorite books of all time are The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Classic psychological horror books about unhinged women.

I adore The Bad Seed by William March. It's widely considered to be the first "creepy child" book in American literature, so reading it now you're like "wow that's kinda cliche- oh my god this is what started it. This was ground zero."

I remember the feelings of validation I got when people realized Dracula wasn't actually a love story. For further feelings of validation, please read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. There's a lot the more popular adaptations missed out on.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is an absolute gem of a book. It's a slow-build psychological study so it may not be for everyone, but damn do the plot twists hit. It's a really good book to go into blind, but I will say that its handling of abuse victims is actually insanely good for the time period it was written in.

Moving on from horror, you know people who say "I loved this book so much I couldn't put it down"? That was me as a kid reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Picked it up while bored at the library and was glued to it until I finished it.

Peter Pan and Wendy by JM Barrie was also a childhood favorite of mine. Next time someone bitches about Woke Casting, tell them that the original 1911 Peter Pan novel had canon nonbinary fairies.

Watership Down by Richard Adams is my sister Cori's favorite book period. If you were a Warrior Cats, Guardians of Ga'Hoole or Wings of Fire kid, you owe a metric fuckton to Watership Down and its "little animals on a big adventure" setup.

A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry was a play and not a book first, but damn if it isn't a good fucking read. It was also named after a Langston Hughes poem, who's also an absolutely incredible author.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is a book I absolutely adore and will defend until the day I die. It's so friggin good, y'all, I love it more than anything. You like people breaking out of fascist brainwashing? You like reading and value knowledge? You wanna see a guy basically predict the future of television back in 1953? Read Fahrenheit.

Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee are considered required reading for a reason: they're both really good books about young white children unlearning the racial biases of their time. Huck Finn specifically has the main character being told that he will go to hell if he frees a slave, and deciding eternal damnation would be worth it.

As a sidenote, another Mark Twain book I was obsessed with as a kid was A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Exactly what it says on the tin, incredibly insane read.

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin is a heartbreaking but powerful book and a look at the racism of the time while still centering the love the two black protagonists feel for each other. Giovanni's Room by the same author is one that focuses on a MLM man struggling with his sexuality, and it's really important to see from the perspective of a queer man living in the 50s– as well as Baldwin's autobiographical novel, Go Tell it on the Mountain.

Agatha Christie mysteries are all still absolutely iconic, but Murder on the Orient Express is such a good read whether or not you know the end twist.

Maybe-controversial-maybe-not take: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov is a good book if you have reading comprehension. No, you're not supposed to like the main character. He pretty much spells that out for you at the end ffs.

Animal Farm by George Orwell was another favorite of mine; it was written as an obvious metaphor for the rise of fascism in Russia at the time and boy does it hit even now.

And finally, please read Shakespeare plays. As soon as you get used to their way of talking, they're not as hard to understand as people will lead you to believe. My absolute favorite is Twelfth Night- crossdressing, bisexual love triangles, yellow stockings... it's all a joy.

and those are just the ones i thought of off the top of my head! What're your guys' favorite classic books? Let's make everyone a reading list!

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Luke Gets Injured

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~

Author's Note: a little delayed since he is back playing but anyways Summary: Y/N takes care of Luke after he gets injured Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 1,619

Her schedule was starting to get overwhelming, she decided to take a few more credits this semester to try and graduate a semester early. It was only week two in the semester and she’s already spent majority of her time at the campus library studying.

Usually, her phone would be on silent as she was studying. She was always desperate to focus. It was only noon and she was finished with her classes for the day but she wanted to get ahead on her work for the week.

Reluctantly she pulled her phone from her pocket to see a handful of missed calls from Jack. It was weird for him to text her, let alone call her multiple times. Without hesitation she quickly called him back. Jack answered after a few rings.

“What’s wrong? Is Luke alright?” she whispered as she glanced around her.

“He’s fine, but he busted his shoulder at practice. It’s not great, he’s on a shit load of meds, I’ll take his car back to ya’lls place tonight, can you come pick him up?” Jack explained in what seemed like on big long word. Her eyes widened as she quickly shut her computer, she rested her phone between her shoulder and her ear. 

“How bad is it?” she whispered as she shoved her computer into her bag as she stood up and started walking towards the exit. 

“Don’t know yet, he’s getting a scan right now.” Jack muttered, sounded like there was a lot of shuffling on his end of the phone.

“Jack?” she questioned as she stepped out of the library, luckily her car was parked close enough to where she could leave in the matter of minutes. 

“Y-yeah?” he let out as he got closer to the phone.

“A scan is probably not a good sign, right?” she asked. He hummed on his end of the phone.

The drive over to the practice rink felt like eternity but it was only fifteen minutes. Jack tends to get over protective of Luke, so it very well could be nothing. But she wanted to see Luke regardless.

She hopped out of the car instantly to see Jack talking with Nico outside the player entrance door. Jack’s eyes widened once he saw her walking towards him. “He’s inside,” he explained as he took a few steps back towards the door.

“Hey Y/N,” Nico muttered as he smiled politely towards her. She smiled towards him as she followed Jack inside. “He’s a little loopy,” Nico explained as he followed after them. Y/N nodded as she followed down the hallway. Jack turned and entered a room that was brightly lit. 

Luke lifted his head up as if he was drunk. His eyes widened and a sleepy grin formed to his lips. “Girlfriend,” he mumbled before he tilted his head back against the seat.

Y/N smiled as she walked towards him. The team’s doctor stood beside him. “Doesn’t look like he’ll need surgery,” he said reassuringly. Y/N nodded as she rested her hand onto Luke’s arm that was not in a sling. 

“He’ll just need lots of rest, the pain killers he’s on right now are only for today and tomorrow. He’ll just use over the counter until he doesn’t need it anymore,” the doctor explained as he handed Y/N the pill bottle with only two pills in it. She nodded as she shoved the bottle into her purse.

“Alright, can you guys help me get him into my car.” Y/N explained. Jack and Nico took a hold of Luke, cautious on his shoulder, and started guiding him out of hte room.

“God, I’m getting flashbacks to the Zach Bryan concert,” Jack muttered as he guided Luke out of the facility. 

“Oh don’t remind me of that,” Y/N said while laughing as she followed after the boys.

They managed to get Luke into the passenger seat of the car, the medication was a lot stronger than Luke thought they were going to be. He tilted his head back against the headrest. Jack shut the door on him, a chuckle leaving his lips in the process.

“I’ll drive his car back to your guys’ place, so I can help you get him inside.” Jack explained. Y/N nodded as she took in a long breath.

“Thank you, Jack,” she mumbled as she met his eye, taking a deep breath in the process. He nodded as he jogged towards Luke’s car a few parking spaces away.

Y/N jogged around towards the driver seat of her car and she dropped down into the seat. “You alright?” she asked him. He opened his eyes slowly, glancing down towards his arm.

“They said I’ll be out for only a few regular season games,” he mumbled, tilting his head to the side to meet her gaze. She put the key in the ignition as she met his eye. 

“That’s good to hear, my love,” she mumbled. He smiled towards her as he shut his eyes. 

“Damn, I’m fucking tired,” he muttered.

~~~

The next morning, Luke was sleeping in late, his shoulder in a sling. He struggled to get comfortable for majority of the night but he was finally sleeping comfortably. Y/N stood in the kitchen making breakfast, knowing that he would be starving the second he wakes up. 

She was swaying back and forth to the country music playing through their tiny speaker. She hummed along to the song as she poured the protein pancake batter onto the skillet watching it immediately start to bubble. 

“Cause, oh my god, he walked in like a 6’2” dream, Heaven-sent. He says what he means and he means what he says,” she sang along to the song. She spun around to see a sleepy Luke with his arm in a sling leaning against the kitchen counter. “Shit, Luke scared the hell out of me,” she said while she held her hand against her chest. He chuckled as he titled his head back against the cabinet.

“Whatcha making?” he asked as he scanned her frame. Her body was only covered with an old t-shirt of his and very tiny shorts. She smiled towards him as she flipped one of the pancakes.

“An amazing breakfast spread, you go relax,” she offered as she pointed towards the couch with the spatula. He shook his head as he ran his hand over his shoulder wincing in pain. She frowned. “Go sit,” 

He sighed as he walked towards the couch, sitting down. He squinted his eyes shut as he felt his arm throb. He was listening along to the music that was playing in the background.

It took a few minutes before the breakfast was ready. She was carrying two plates as she walked towards the couch. She excitedly handed one of the plates to Luke, cautiously. He sat up, resting the plate onto the coffee table.

“This looks amazing,” he muttered as he brought the food towards his mouth, taking a large bite. “Wow, this actually taste good,” he teased.

“Oh shut it, I can cook,” she said before biting a perfectly crispy piece of bacon.

“Are you sure Jack didn’t sneak in and make this for you?” he teased again as he took another bite. 

“Hardy har,” she said sarcastically. He smirked as he continued eating the food. 

“Thank you, baby, really this is amazing,” he let out as he met her gaze. She smiled softly towards him as she reached for the remote. He winced in pain as he leaned back.

“I can go grab that medicine that your doctor gave me,” she said, already standing up.

“No, no better not. I don’t want to feel like that again,” he said as he waved her off. She nodded as she leaned back into her spot on the couch, glancing towards him every so often. “I’ll grab some Advil or something after this amazing meal,” he said with a smirk on his lips.

She rolled her eyes playfully as she met his gaze briefly. She put on a random show as they continued to eat their breakfast in comfortable silence.

It had been a handful of hours later and it was safe to say Luke was already over being injured. He felt useless and lazy. He already hated the idea of being held up in bed but he wouldn’t complain about Y/N taking care of him. 

He was laid up on the bed, his laptop in his lap as he was watching a movie. Y/N walked into the room, smiling towards him. She took note of the frown on his face and tilted her head to the side.

She walked towards the bed, delicately resting her hand onto his cheek. He tilted his head into her hand. “It’s only a month in a half,” she muttered. He pouted his lips as he shut his eyes. “Luke,” 

“You know what could make me feel better?” he asked, fighting a small grin forming to his lips. 

“What’s that?” she teased as she slowly climbed onto his lap, being extra cautious of his arm. His eyes scanned her frame, biting his bottom lip trying to prevent a wide grin. He couldn’t form words as he continued to admire her frame. She rested her hands onto his jaw as she ran her thumbs across his jawline.

She leaned towards him, kissing him delicately. His free arm, slowly started running up and down the back of her thigh. “How’s that?” she mumbled against his lips. He hummed as he pressed his lips against hers once more.

“It’s a start,” he let out teasingly.

“Asshole,” she mumbled against his lips before she kissed him more urgently.

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven 3 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. And then you asked for more :)

My masterlist is here.

Part 1 // Part 2

Warnings: no proof reading, stressed out neglect!Bruce, mentions of dead characters, jealousy and all kind of bad feelings, language

This was Hell. It had to be a nightmare, right? It couldn’t be the reality. It couldn’t be the truth. Someone was toying with him, torturing him even. It had to be an illusion of some sort. Or maybe he was stuck in the darkest part of this mind, full of his worst fears.

No child, no wife, no Alfred, no Justice League, no good day, no good night. 

Gotham wasn’t usually funny, but this was pure punishment.

At first, Bruce thought that the worst part was how awful the business was with Wayne Enterprises; there was so much work to take care of, all the time, and no one he felt like he could trust. 

Then he realised how empty his manor was. It was dark and quiet. It was making him want to throw up because of how tight it was making his chest and stomach. He couldn’t stand this utter silence. He couldn’t stand to not be able to play the annoyed mentor with his children and the good husband to you.

Not even having Alfred was a punishment, a torture, a cruel life. How was he supposed to care about everything without Alfred? How was he supposed to stay sane without the man who raised him? How was he supposed to survive without him? 

He so deeply missed the children. He tried to find them, but they were in prison, dead or gone from Gotham: Dick was a police officer who died during a mission, Jason was in prison, Tim died in his parents' accident, Stephanie had left Gotham forever, Cassandra killed herself to not be a killer anymore, Duke died as he looked for the Joker, Damian didn’t exist.

And Barbara looked so happy, Bruce didn’t even dare going to talk to her. And when he passed by her, hoping she would talk to him, she just seemed surprised to see Bruce Wayne in her local library. All the people he knew didn’t know him anymore or weren’t there to know him or to care about him.

In some desperate attempt, he looked for Talia, but the league of assassins simply kicked his ass for having tried and reached for her. They weren’t interested in him, merely wondering how he knew about them. He almost got killed that night, but he found a way out, like he always did.

Except he didn’t seem to be able to find a way out from this Hell.

The worst part was definitely your absence. He was so used to going to bed with a pretty little wife by his side. He was so used to kissing her goodnight. He was so used to her cute little whines for five minutes more of cuddles in the morning. He was so used to having his arm around her waist wherever they went. And he missed that so much. He wanted you so badly. He needed you so badly.

Fuck, he promised himself to not ditch any more dates with you once he would be back to what reality was supposed to be. He would take such good care of you. He would make you forget about the divorce papers and not just by saying to Alfred “She had a good life here and she loves the children, so she’ll stay”. No, he would make sure you actually wanted to stay. With him. With your husband.

He needed to find you in this world. Maybe you could help him, at least to not completely go insane.

He quickly found you, and for a brief instant, he was so relieved that you seemed to know him. You clearly weren’t his wife since you didn’t even live in the manor, but thank god he hoped you were his girlfriend. But your coldness hurt him more than he would ever admit it.

“What do you want, Bruce?” you groaned when you saw him at your door

“Just wanted to check on you” the man tried to smile

“Look, I’ve already told you that I’m not interested. You creep me out, man. And it’s not because the cops won’t do anything if I call them, that you can keep going here. So please, stay away from me and stop sending me gifts that I need to send you back. We’re not a thing, and we’ll never be” you told him before closing your door.

Bruce knew he was going to lose it.

He started to try and recall what happened the night before everything changed so drastically in his life. He slowly remembered this mission with the mad scientist. He remembered the light he saw right after he was going to sleep by your side. He was feeling so weak and strange then. Something happened then.

He needed to find the man. When he did, the scientist was actually a teacher in the University of Gotham, who was talking about the possibilities of parallel universes. It was how Bruce finally understood what happened. It wasn’t his reality. It wasn't an illusion. It was another world.

For a very brief instant, he felt very bad for the version of himself who had to deal with this world and this constant loneliness. But he couldn’t care. He wanted to get back home, surrounded by his people and their attention. He was relieved in a way because now he knew how to escape from this place.

He worked hard for several months. He showed a very dark version of himself, as he was forcing the scientist to find a way to send him back. He was slowly losing himself. He needed to come back home soon, or he would start to actually kill; why would he care about crossing the lines in a world that wasn’t his? In a city that didn’t like him anyway? In a life where no one loved him?

The media were commenting on how ruthless Batman was lately. Bruce couldn’t help it. He was feeling so bad. And there was this nasty little voice inside his head telling him over and over again that “Maybe no one realised you were gone. Maybe no one wants you back. Maybe that’s why you’re still there months after. Another man is fucking your wife, another man is talking to your children and to Alfred, another man is leading WE and the Justice League. And they all don’t care. Worst, they like him better”

The scientist wasn’t obsessed with the idea of getting rid of Batman so he thought about things quite differently. He found a way to send Bruce back to his world but he didn’t switch places. So when Bruce arrived where he was supposed to be, he was quite shocked to see another him.

What was worse was that you were by his side, laughing at something the man murmured to you. His arm was wrapped around your waist. It was then that your husband noticed how round your belly was. You were pregnant. You were heavily pregnant. There was no way it was actually his child. It had to be his. Didn’t you notice it wasn’t your husband who was making love to you? Or did you want it? Him?

The sole idea was driving him crazy with pain and raw jealousy. The jealousy that the Bruce of the other world felt when he first arrived in this world, the “real” Bruce” felt it too. His life has been stolen away from him, and he needed to get it back. 

It drove him even crazier when he saw how his children acted around the stranger. How could they all seem so happy around him? He hoped that no one understood what happened. He hoped that you all thought it was him.

He didn’t know what to do though. He couldn’t come back to the manor, he couldn’t show his face, so he hid in the dark for a little while. He kept stalking all of you, getting sick in the stomach each time he saw his children or you or the Justice League with his other self. Everyone seemed to do so much better.

Or maybe it was just his paranoia and the mean voices inside his head that wanted to make him believe that you all loved this other Bruce better than him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the child you were carrying. He had wanted that too, but you never seemed ready.

And now…

Now he needed to find you.

--

Part 4

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

Taglist for this series <3 (you’re my heaven)

@bat1212

@karakento

@kneelforloki

Thanks for the ideas <3

@motherofdragons1998

@silverklaus

@optimisticmoonunknown

@kazuko-stuff

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[hgfictionwriter]

First Impressions: Part two

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Okay, so maybe Jessie isn't as shallow or one-dimensional as you thought. You decided to give her a chance, but first impressions and long-standing reputations can be hard to simply forget about. Can you let your insecurities go and can she prove that she's serious about you?

Warnings: Smut. Edging. Cunnilingus. Fingering. Language.

A/N: Part two! The rehabilitation of Player Jessie lol. It's a bit long, but there is smut, I swear.

“Hey Beautiful. How’s your day going?”

You glanced up from your phone and bit back a smile. You idly glanced around the library, clearing your throat before resettling on your phone and typing out a reply.

“Texting me when you’re on the road? You must be bored.”

“Day’s going well. Just at the library right now.”

“What? Without me?! I feel betrayed jk”

“I’m not bored. Just missing my study buddy turned…girlfriend?”

Your posture straightened and your eyes narrowed as you read her message.

“Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

"Yeah?"

"Lol why the question mark! You're either asking me out or you're not."

"I am."

"Wow."

"What?! What was wrong with that? Lol. I thought it was smooth."

"Your inexperience is showing, Fleming."

“Well that’s a first.”

You rolled your eyes. When you glanced back down you saw she was typing.

“You said you didn’t want casual. And we've had some great dates. And I don't want to seem too over-confident, but I think I've coaxed you along from tolerating me to perhaps even enjoying my company. Periodically lol. So, I’m just following through.”

You bit your lip and your cheeks ached from holding back a full blown smile. Your head buzzed as you reread her message.

If there was a theme in your dynamic, it was that you had to give a hard time. Even in this situation.

"Enjoying your company? Let's not get carried away, now. I mean, just because we text all day, have hot make-out sessions, say sweet, romantic things to each other and it took us an hour and a half to say 'goodnight' yesterday, doesn't mean anything. So presumptuous of you."

"Ugh. You're right. I've misread the signs. My bad."

"But seriously - you haven't answered. And I'm actually getting nervous. Come on, Y/L/N. You'll either be my girlfriend or you won't 😛"

You smirked. You appreciated how easily you two bantered and this was no exception.

A few weeks had passed since that night in the hallway. Things escalated quickly, honestly. Suddenly there was this emotional intimacy that was rapidly evolving between you two and it just felt so natural. And Jessie, despite everything you would've originally expected, had been sweet, authentic, and steady.

The opportunity to step away and stop yourself from catching feelings was long over. Dangerous territory? You were in the thick of it. If you were going to turn back, now was the time.

"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

"That just 1000% made my day. My week. Month. More!"

You rubbed your face in elated disbelief and typed out a reply.

"Well. If you keep it up, my feelings for you might progress from tolerating, to enjoying to...who knows."

"Shit. I honest to God want to turn around and come back. And I never want to miss camps."

"I seriously miss you."

Giddy. You felt fucking giddy and you couldn't believe it.

"I miss you too. Which is fucking crazy since I saw you less than 24 hours ago."

"Tell me about it lol."

"I'll be here when you get back."

“Better be lol. And until then. Don’t let some other nerdy athlete charm you.”

You audibly laughed, cutting it short as it sounded through the quiet space.

“Yeah. And you keep your little fan club at bay while you’re away, okay?”

“Easy. I’ll text you after we're done for the day, okay? Happy studying!”

You couldn’t believe what was going on. It was so unexpected that you still had to remind yourself of the events that took place to get here. It was the only way to reconcile the fact that you were sitting here texting with Jessie Fleming. Flirting with Jessie Fleming. Dating Jessie Fleming. Someone who was Bad News; the type to break your heart and leave you longing.

Yet, someone who you - maybe - had all wrong.

Someone you, in fact, very much, were swooning over.

-------

You were reading the slide on screen and listening to the professor when suddenly Jessie nudged you with her elbow.

She had her eyes trained forward but shifted her laptop, angling it towards you. A smirk began to tug at the corner of her mouth and she gave you a brief, cursory glance. You looked down at her screen to see she'd selected some text in her notes.

"You look amazing. Stop distracting me."

You nearly blew a raspberry, managing to suppress it into a vague scoff. You rolled your eyes as you faced forward once more, but felt a blush burning on your cheeks. You glanced back at her to see her smiling widely at you now. She returned her attention to her laptop and typed out a new sentence.

"You know you're beautiful. You don't need to be shy about it."

You shook your head affectionately and typed out a reply before turning your screen slightly towards her. Your posture stiffened as she placed a hand on the edge of your seat to lean in to read.

"You're out of control. And who's distracting who here, huh? lol"

She retracted her hand to start typing and you missed it immediately. When she was done typing you leaned over, placing a hand directly on her thigh as you read the message.

"You are distracting me. You = distracting and gorgeous."

You silently snickered with another shake of your head.

"Omfg. You're ridiculous."

She glanced down at your hand purposefully.

"Especially now."

You gave her a look somewhere between chiding and teasing. She shot you another smirk and typed further.

"Don't get me wrong. I like it."

"Care to go on a little adventure with me after class?"

You weren't going to say 'no'. She knew it. You knew it. And sure enough, after class she led you by the hand to another building across campus until you were in an abandoned stairwell. You assumed you were going to continue on elsewhere, but learned otherwise when she gently pushed you against the wall with a charming smile and a slow kiss.

You giggled into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around the back of her shoulders.

"You take me to the nicest places," you teased.

"Both our roommates are in, so privacy is a tough commodity to come by," she replied with a chuckle as she began to kiss her way down your neck. It took every effort not to gasp. "You look gorgeous all the time, but I especially love when you wear your hair up. I couldn't stop staring at your neck - all I could think about was kissing it."

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as her warm breath caressed you, her lips explored and you could feel just the slightest, teasing touch of her tongue on your neck.

While the emotional barriers you'd tried to put up had proven entirely fruitless and ineffective, you'd done a much better job of withholding physical boundaries.

Given your concerns going into this relationship, you'd told yourself that you wanted to very strongly establish an emotional foundation with Jessie before being physically intimate. So even though you would've probably already slept with someone by this point, and Jessie most certainly would've too, you'd never allowed the two of you to go further than a heavy and hot make-out session.

You wanted her to work for it. To earn it. And to your surprise, she didn't seem deterred in the least. She'd been respectful and patient. Well, mostly patient. You knew she was raring to go, but any time you pumped the brakes she backed off.

Your hands were running through her hair and you two were - consciously or not - rocking your hips against one another's as she kissed and lightly sucked on your neck and her hands began to inch under your top. Your core was throbbing with need already.

"What if someone comes by?" You managed to say, eyes falling shut at the sensations she was sending through your body.

"No one ever comes here. Don't worry," she responded easily.

Your eyes fluttered opened, a frown slowly forming across your forehead. The lightness and excitement that had been coursing through your veins a moment before was immediately replaced with a heavy pit in your stomach.

You pulled back, slowly dropping your hands away from her head to her waist and pushing gently. She extended her neck, working to keep her lips in contact with your neck before eventually relenting with a confused look and allowing herself to be pushed back.

"I should probably go," you said, tone admittedly a bit flat as you failed to hold eye contact with her while you smoothed out your clothes.

"Wh-huh?" She asked, blatantly puzzled by your change in demeanor. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head subtly and began to walk away. You were deeply tempted to not reply at all or to just deflect, but instead you replied with, "Look. I'm not going to be just some other girl you fuck in a stairwell between classes, okay?"

You had your back to her and were pushing the door open so you missed whatever physical reaction she had, but her perturbed, "Are you serious right now?" rang loud in your ears.

You continued to walk outside, her footsteps close behind you and you turned around folding your arms against yourself.

"Yeah. I am," you told her almost wearily. You could see the frustration on her face and she laughed in disbelief.

"What," you challenged. "Are you going to tell me you haven't brought other girls here? Made out with them there? Fucked them even?"

Despite her irritation, she averted her gaze, scoffing lightly and eventually offering an exaggerated shrug.

"And if I did?"

You shook your head, turning away slightly with a huff. She gave an empty laugh.

"Would you rather I lie? 'No, baby, you're the only one ever!'" She finished mockingly.

"What the fuck, Jess," you retorted, voice rising slightly as you narrowed your eyes at her. "You don't need to be an asshole about it." Your face felt hot with anger, but suddenly it shifted and you knew if you weren't careful you were going to start crying. "I just don't want to be treated the same as all the others." You scowled, pushing back further emotion, "If what you say is true and things are different with me."

She exhaled heavily, dropping her gaze and stretching out her fingers and opening her palms as a way to calm herself. She took a breath and lifted her head to meet your eyes once more, still speaking tersely, but calmer than you'd been.

"That's why I'm frustrated," she said. "You are very different and I feel very different about you. For you. And I do treat you differently! Do you think I was texting those girls all day? Telling them I miss them. Planning dates. Telling them all my hopes and fears; asking them about theirs? Bringing them to hang out with my friends? And I sure as shit didn't ask them to be my girlfriend."

A wave of guilt rushed over you. Okay, maybe you were still making a sweeping generalization, but you still felt the way you did.

"I'm sorry," you relented slightly, but went on. "I see what you're saying. And I'm trying. But I still can't help it sometimes. I-I don't know. I know you're not who I originally thought you were. But I guess a part of me is still scared. I," you paused, words getting caught in your throat, "I really like you, Jess. And - moments like this make me terrified that I'm just going to get left behind like one of your other girls."

Jessie sighed quietly, dropping her gaze once more as she kicked distractedly at the sidewalk. When she looked back up her eyes were sad, but you could still see the warmth behind them.

"I don't know what to do," she said helplessly. "I can't change the past. I want you to feel confident in us. In me. But I can't undo anything from before. I'm trying to be clear and direct about how important you are to me. I really like you too, and I just wish I knew how to get you to trust me."

You exhaled, your own frustration at your feelings seeping in. "It's not that I don't trust you. I mean, I guess that's hard to believe, but that's really not what's going on," you insisted. "And I understand that you can't change anything from the past. And you shouldn't have to. That's just something I need to get over. It's really just...I don't want to be the same as the other girls."

She watched you quietly as she contemplated. She took a couple of steps towards you, closing the gap and tentatively taking your hands in hers.

"I promise you you're not. And I understand that my reputation has made trust a bit more difficult. But, I really, really need you to know that this - and you - are special to me." She nodded as she continued. "You're right - I probably shouldn't have brought you to the same spot I brought other girls. Especially given," she looked away briefly, "what I'd do with them there. I can see now that was not the wisest. I really wasn't thinking that way - I just wanted to be alone with you and knew we could be there."

You sighed softly and removed your hands from hers to wrap them around her back, pulling her into a hug. She squeezed you tightly and kissed the side of your head.

"Thank you. I know you didn't mean anything negative. I just...I got in my head. But, yeah, if you can try to be more mindful of things like that, I'll work on not reacting so impulsively."

"Deal," she chuckled. She pulled back enough for you to see the way she cocked an eyebrow at you playfully. You weren't sure where she was going with this, but you were grateful for the sudden levity and the forgiveness it implied. "And for the record, it's not just all sunshine and rainbows on my end either, you know." She smirked at you and continued.

"Despite my bravado, there's a certain level of insecurity that comes with having the history I do and now meeting this incredible woman and wanting something serious and long-term with her. A no-strings-attached lifestyle is easy breezy - you don't get invested and you don't get hurt. But with you? I don't want to disappoint you. And you can definitely hurt me. I'm not used to that."

You searched her face as she finished speaking and warmth radiated throughout your chest. You kissed her and another wave of affection rushed through you as she squeezed you securely against her.

"I didn't mean to disrespect you at all. I'm really sorry," she said quietly as your kiss ended and she tucked her head against yours.

You pulled back to look at her. Her dark eyes were soft and shimmering and you laid a single kiss on her lips.

"Come with me," you said as you took her by the hand and led her back to the stairwell. You bit back a laugh at the curious smirk on her face as she allowed you to maneuver her against the wall. You smiled as her eyes slowly fell shut as you leaned in to kiss her.

"Guess this means you aren't too mad at me?" She muttered jokingly into the kiss. A crooked grin crossed your lips as you gently grasped her chin and had her meet your gaze.

"You're forgiven," you said with teasing benevolence before arching an eyebrow. "But don't push your luck." She chuckled and shook her head with a smile.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

You grinned as you engaged her a deep, slow kiss, this time your hands sneaking under her shirt and splaying out across her abs. A spark of satisfaction flared and you had to hold back a fuller smile as you felt her breath hitch and the faintest moan escaped her throat.

"I like you so much," you whispered as you began to trail kisses down her neck, noting the way her fingers dug into your waist.

"I like you a lot too," she said with a breathy laugh. You fought back a grin as you pressed your thigh between hers and ground up into her.

"Oh shit," she said, still breathless, another laugh in awe. You got the impression the tables weren't typically turned on her like this. You continued, your hand now toying with the button on her pants. She let out another soft moan. "Fuck, you're getting me so hot."

You smiled smugly as you nipped at her neck.

"Good," you said simply as you pulled back entirely, breaking off all contact and loving how her hands stretched out to follow you and only falling away as you stepped out of reach.

You saw the tiniest, cutest frown form across her forehead as her eyes fluttered open in confusion.

"Call me later?" You asked sweetly with a flirtatious shrug, already turning on your heel and heading for the door.

"Wait, what?" She called after you, her confusion evident in her voice.

You stepped through the door, but turned back to give her an innocent smile. She stared after you like a lost puppy. "We're even now. Call me later, baby."

She belatedly opened her mouth to speak, but you simply blew her a kiss and let the door fall shut.

And call you she did. In fact, when you woke up the next morning you had a text from her in the middle of the night.

"I can't even sleep because I'm still thinking about the stairwell. Nobody's ever made me feel like this. I feel like I'm drunk on you lol. I know that's stupid. But. I can't stop thinking about you."

-----------

You slung your bag over your shoulder and scrolled through your phone as you began to exit your class. You walked head down into the masses of students until someone brushed against your arm and fell into step with you.

"How was class?"

You frowned, puzzled momentarily until your brain caught up and a smile crossed your face at who it was.

"Well hello," you greeted as you gently pushed your shoulder into her, jostling her.

"Hey baby," she greeted with a winning smile as she held out a coffee for you.

"Now this is service," you teased as you took it.

"Only the best for my girl," she said with a wink.

"Is your class cancelled or something?" You asked, knowing her next class was in an entirely different building across campus.

"No, but my last one got out early. Thought I'd surprise you with a coffee," she said, obviously very pleased with herself.

"You're the sweetest," you said as you leaned over mid-step to kiss her cheek. She smiled.

"Don't tell anyone."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "Yeah, everyone thinks you're such a jerk."

"You did," she quipped.

"I didn't think you were a jerk," you responded haughtily. "Just a thoughtless womanizer," you chuckled.

"Oh, well thank you for clarifying," she replied dryly with an eye roll of her own as she laced her fingers with yours. "Well now that you know I'm not a total deviant, want to come out for drinks tonight? Mia's back so we're all getting together."

"Sure," you responded lightly as you gave her hand a squeeze.

"Okay, great," she said before leaning over and kissing your cheek before stepping away, walking backwards towards another hall. "See you tonight." She gave you another wink. "Don't miss me too much until then."

That evening you were in a crowded dorm room, solo cup in hand, the bass of some song underlining conversations throughout the space. Mia stood across from you.

"Glad I got a chance to chat with you more. I knew I had to get to know you better because you have got our girl swooning," she teased with a smirk.

"Oh my gosh, not at all," you dismissed though you averted your gaze and felt a blush coming on. Mia laughed heartily and cocked an eyebrow.

"No, no. I've never seen Jess like this before. She used to make fun of other girls for being all lovesick, but now she's even worse than them. Though don't tell her that," she laughed, "she thinks she's being all nonchalant and cool about it."

Your head buzzed with excitement over Mia's words. The extra validation cemented your growing confidence in how significant this connection really was to Jessie. You couldn't help but direct your gaze away from Mia in search of the girl in question. You caught her eye across the room and flashed a smile with a quick wink. You watched as she excused herself from her conversation and began to weave through the crowd.

"Hey, you good?" She asked quietly as she approached, laying a hand on your arm as she kissed your temple. You gave her a quiet smile, holding her gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good."

You didn't think you held her eye contact that long, but your attention and Jessie's was drawn towards Mia as she laughed. She shook her head in amusement.

"Okay, later lovebirds," she deadpanned as she held up her drink in a 'cheers' and walked away.

"I trust Mia was treating you well?" Jessie asked as her eyes followed Mia momentarily while chuckling.

"Of course," you replied with a cheeky grin. "She took great care of me."

"Hopefully not too great," she teased. Your jaw dropped, scandalized though you laughed.

"You're not serious. You. Jessie Fleming. Get jealous?" You asked, eyes bright with amusement as you felt a fluttering in your stomach.

Jessie made a face and laughed, though you could easily see the way her cheeks grew flush. She eventually shrugged.

"Hey, what can I say? I know my teammates are awesome and you're an incredible girl, you can have your pick."

You rolled your eyes. "You're being silly," you said as you gave her an affectionate smile. She held up her hands with charming smirk.

"Just saying. I'm not taking what we have for granted. You don't have to pick me."

You 'tsked' her, arms folded. "Well. I do," you replied, shoulder back and head held high. "So you can relax."

Jessie leaned in, placing a hand on your waist as she kissed your cheek. Her breath tickled your skin. "Well, consider me beyond pleased."

You held her gaze again. Suddenly, there were too many people around. You were overwhelmed with a need to be close to her. Alone with her.

"How's your night going?" You asked, spurring a curious frown from her.

"Fine? Good?" She answered with a soft laugh. "Yours?"

You shrugged lightly. "Nice." You cocked your head as you glanced away purposefully. "Could be better."

"Oh?" She asked. "How so?

You reached out and smoothed out the shoulder of her shirt before playing with the collar.

"It's just starting to feel a little crowded in here," you said with flippant lament. You sighed quietly, but in exaggeration as she processed your words. She cracked a smile.

"Yeah? Is that so?" She asked, chin tilting up slightly as she studied you. She glanced towards the door. "I mean, we could always go."

"Oh I wouldn't want to force you to leave," you relayed sweetly and she gave you a wicked grin.

"Yeah, you're really forcing my hand here," she said flatly. You looked her up and down with a smirk of your own.

"I can find some other things for your hand to do."

Her eyes grew wide for a moment and her mouth fell open at your brazen comment. She eventually closed her mouth, now giving you a less than subtle once over.

"It's not nice to tease," she warned.

"Who's teasing?" You asked innocently while locking eyes with her.

She puffed her cheeks out in an exhale, gaze flitting across the room with an appreciative shake of her head that left you holding back a smug smile. She reached out to lace her fingers with yours, her thumb teasing the palm of your hand.

"Well, are you going to let me take you home or what?" She whispered. You raised both eyebrows at her and clicked your tongue.

"I believe you'll be coming home with me," you retorted playfully. "If anyone's going to be burdened with the walk of shame, it's going to be you." You shrugged. "This time anyway."

She laughed, loud enough that it even attracted the attention of couple of people in adjacent conversations. She sniffed with a residual chuckle and nodded. "Sure. I'll shoulder that responsibility."

On the walk to your building she asked if you should stop at her room to grab, any, you know, supplies. You didn't break your pace at all and simply responded with, "No. I want you now."

She grinned like a Cheshire cat, placing a hand on the small of your back and increased her strides, pulling you along too. "Well then let's not waste any more time."

You'd texted your roommate on the way back and was grateful to see she'd vacated the premises by the time you stepped inside. You'd given her space many times, so it was her turn to return the favour.

You'd barely closed the door when a lighthearted yelp escaped your throat as Jessie spun you around and lifted you off the ground, pressing your back against the door. Her lips immediately latched onto your neck as your arms and legs wrapped around her.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've wanted you," she breathed into your neck as she nipped and sucked at the skin there harder than she'd ever done before and it immediately had your core pulsing.

Something between a gasp and a moan left your mouth as you ran one hand through her hair, pressing her mouth further against your neck and she moaned into you while digging her fingers harder into the underside of your thighs.

Both of you were too hungry to take your time, so it wasn't long before she carried you to the bed, lips still locked as she laid you down.

Your hands were under her shirt and she chuckled as she sat up and took it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor.

"Now you," she said with a lustful grin as her hands wandered below your shirt and pushed it upwards. You arched your back off the bed and she reached around to help support you while she peeled your shirt off with her other hand. She was still discarding the garment when she leaned down to begin laying teasing kisses down your chest to your bra. Her hand was on the clasp of your bra and you chuckled as she unclasped it with ease, drawing the straps down off of your shoulders with her teeth.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," she said in awe as she sat back again to take in your half-naked image in the dim of the room.

A small cry left your lips as she dipped her head back down and drew one of your nipples into her mouth, her teeth grazing as she released it before latching on again and swirling her tongue around the hardened nipple. You set both hands on the back of her head, fingers partially digging into her scalp in appreciation as she attentively explored you.

She switched nipples and her hand caressed up the outside of your thigh and grabbed your ass through your jeans, kneading firmly and hungrily as she moaned into your breast.

You grasped her other hand and guided it between your bodies, your own hand undoing the button of your jeans.

“You’re sure?” She asked, pausing despite your invitation. You rolled your hips up into her waiting hand and continued to guide her.

She took over, unzipping and pushing her hand down towards your core. Her fingers pressed firmly across your folds through the fabric of your underwear. Your jaw fell as her fingers indirectly grazed your clit.

She moaned. "I can already feel how wet you are," she said in wonder and her tone assured you she was more than pleased by this.

She pushed your panties aside, her fingers caressing through your slick folds for the first time and you immediately groaned in pleasure and rolled your hips up into her eager hand.

"You feel so fucking amazing already," she said, head lolling to the side momentarily before she began kissing her way down your torso. You tried not to whine as she removed her hand long enough to remove your jeans.

"You're going to get sick of me telling you how gorgeous you are," she said as she nipped at your underwear, tugging them down teasingly with her teeth. She hooked her fingers into the band but you stopped her temporarily.

"I want your clothes off, too," you told her in a way that left no room for debate. She snickered before pushing herself up off of you and shimmying off her clothes.

"Anything for you," she joked as she returned her attention to you, her lips laying fleeting kisses along the crease between your thighs and core. You heard her chuckle as your legs grew restless, rubbing against the sheets. She reached up and rubbed teasing circles around your nub through your panties.

"Please," you said simply.

"Please what?" She asked innocently and you could hear the smile in her voice before her tongue made contact with your skin, eliciting a gasp out of you.

You writhed beneath her. Even though this was brand new territory for you two, you felt safe expressing yourself.

"I need you," you answered, trusting that it would be well received and not feeling embarrassed or self-conscious in your saying so.

You heard a satisfied grunt from her and you drew your legs back eager to help her remove your panties. You bit your lower lip at the tender kiss she planted on your hip bone.

She began to kiss her way down your mound and although you really just wanted her to fuck you, to feel her fingers inside of you, you figured you'd waited this long, might as well let her set the pace.

Her lips brushed along your folds as she settled herself between your legs and that was enough to send a pulse through your core, but you absolutely throbbed as her fingers dug into the tops of your thighs and she pulled herself closer with an eager moan.

You were honestly contemplating begging her to not tease you any longer when her tongue began to trail up and down between your folds, your back bucking off the bed at the sudden sensations coursing through you.

You heard a muffled laugh from between your legs but before you could protest she began lapping up juices that were surely dripping from your core. Despite your intentions your back arched once more and you gripped the sheets tightly in her hands.

"Don't worry, baby," she said, "I'll take good care of you."

You fleetingly considered scolding her for her bravado, but she flicked her tongue upwards and over your clit before latching onto it with her mouth and sucking in a rhythm that urged your hips to roll up into her face further.

You could feel her smiling into you and she was entirely undeterred by your bucking and moving, confidently and easily keeping her mouth centered on you wherever your body took you.

She sucked, licked, and nipped at you in such a skilled way you'd never experienced before. You'd thought you'd had good sex before; evidently you were wrong.

To top it off, the way she moaned and chased you up the bed with a blatant hunger made you feel wanted and desired in a way you'd never felt before either. The way she devoured you, muffled moans sending pleasurable vibrations through your core, head rocking into you and lapping at you as though you were the most delicious thing she'd had made you feel like she'd never wanted anything more.

And when she reached out and laced her fingers of one hand with yours? Your heart melted.

It was blissful in so many ways.

You hadn't even realized she'd removed her other hand from your thigh when you felt her tease your entrance with a finger. A shuddering moan fell from your lips as she gently dipped a digit inside. You threw your head back into the mattress, back arching all over again as she began slipping a second finger inside, stretching you out deliciously as she continued to flick her tongue across your clit.

Her fingers felt just as good inside of you as you'd imagined and before you knew it she was curling her fingers up against your g-spot. You let out a low moan and your hips began rocking against her with greater fervour. She gave your hand a squeeze and you just held on for dear life, clutching her hand as if it was the only anchor holding you here. You reached down with your free hand and gripped her hair, pulling another pleased noise from her.

The pressure building between your core reached a tipping point. You don't even know how many strokes she'd taken - not many at all - when your cries and whimpers got caught in your throat, mouth drawn into a silent 'o' as your hips began to jerk against her as the tension deep inside of you burst. Your sounds eventually caught up with you as several seconds later you finally mustered a cry as you were already well soaking her face.

She stayed with you the whole time, continuing to help you ride out your orgasm and slowing her motions as you gradually came down.

As you fell back into the bed, your limbs and entire body felt so heavy. It's not like you two had been at it for all that long, but you felt so spent. Even as she began to tenderly kiss her way up your body, you couldn't muster up the energy to caress or hold her. You couldn't even open your eyes.

"You are so incredibly beautiful," she whispered into your ear as she settled herself against you and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

You still couldn't make a noise or embrace her, you simply let her pull you against her.

"You're incredible. And that was so amazing. I-," she paused. "You're so sexy. All of that is going to be engrained in my mind for a long, long time."

You let your head fall to the side and against hers. She chuckled and kissed your forehead and you became aware of how she was gently thumbing your shoulder as she held you.

"Fuck," you eventually said. You heard her hold back a laugh and you finally opened your eyes to look at her. Her eyes were bright and shimmering as she looked down at you. A lazy, crooked smile crossed your lips as you reached up and pushed her face away playfully. "You are way too pleased with yourself right now," you laughed.

"I'm not!" She protested though she laughed. "I'm just- I'm really happy," she eventually said.

"Yeah?" You chuckled as you pulled her closer and she gladly obliged. You tucked your head under her chin. "Well that makes two of us," you laughed and she kissed the top of your head. You sighed contentedly. "Well now I know what all the fuss is about."

Your eyes opened as you felt her stiffen slightly. She shifted, clearing her throat quietly.

"Hey," was all she said, probably meant to be teasing or warning, but sounding sad instead.

You pulled back to look at her. It was true, the bright, warm smile she'd worn was now faint as she looked back at you. You kissed her softly.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was a funny joke. Not appropriate," you said.

"I just want it to be about us," she said quietly as her gaze fell as she drew small, distracted designs on your collarbone with her finger.

"I know," you agreed in the same tone as you placed a hand on hers and caressed the back of it with your thumb. She kissed your cheek. "Me too. I just - you're good. Extraordinarily good. And, well, the fact fleeting crosses my mind that, you know, how do you get so good? Well, practice makes perfect. So..."

Jessie huffed inaudibly, but you felt the air tickle your skin.

"I know we talked about this," you rushed on. "And I'm not upset. Honestly." You chuckled, hoping to lighten things. "I mean, I'm reaping the benefits here." She cracked a faint smirk, but not exactly what you hoped to see. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's okay," she relented as she kissed your cheek once more with a soft sigh. "Just as long as you know you're the only one I want."

You nodded, but she must not have been convinced because she carried on.

"Because, if it was anyone else, I would've been down the stairs and out of the building by now. And," she punctuated, "-not that I should say anything- but, I typically don't get undressed. I'm not looking for intimacy or anything like that. But, I want that with you."

You held a hand up to her cheek and ran your thumb softly against her cheekbone.

"And? Do you have that with me?"

She nodded, leaning her head into your palm.

"Yeah. And it's," she trailed off, her gaze falling briefly as she smirked at herself. She looked up at you again. "It's really great."

You held her gaze and inhaled. Your head was swimming with all sorts of thoughts and feelings. A particular set of words sat on the tip of your tongue. She must've noticed.

"What?" She asked with a tender smile. You considered dismissing it, but instead you just gave a gentle shake of your head.

"I'm falling very hard for you, Jessie Fleming."

Her eyes lit up and you watched as she searched yours. In this moment, this woman who was all charm and confidence looked exceedingly vulnerable.

"That's not funny to joke about," she eventually said with a forced smirk and a single, faint laugh.

"Who says I'm joking?" You asked with a soft laugh.

Realization settled in her and she shifted so she was slightly more on top of you.

"Don't joke," she repeated. You held her gaze, laughing quietly again.

"I'm not."

She rolled you fully onto your back again so she was on top of you. Her knee nudged your legs apart and it any other reality you would've been embarrassed at how your core immediately throbbed.

She looked down at you, eyes different than any way you'd seen them before. Darker somehow. But it didn't scare you. It made you want her more.

"You're everything I wanted," she said. "And I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that first day in class." She subtly began to rock against you and your hands began to wander along her back.

"Everybody told me what this was supposed to feel like, but it just never clicked for me before. At all. But," she took a short, stuttered breath as she continued to grind against you and her hand began to travel down your torso. "You have me. You're on my mind all the time. Any time I'm away from you, I'm just reliving past conversations and moment or dreaming up new ones."

She shook her head in mild disbelief. "I've never felt this way," she said as her hand settled between your legs. You were certain there was no way she couldn't feel the heat radiating off of you. And somehow, with every declaration from her you grew wetter and wetter.

"Me neither," you told her. She smiled and ran two fingers through your folds to then tease your entrance - immediately confirming how wet you were - her eyes lit up and her smile turned into a grin.

"You are so gorgeous. And so fucking amazing," she told you in reverie.

Your exhale was unsteady as your center throbbed in want. "Jess," you said; panted even. "I need you."

A sharp gasp escaped you as she slowly sunk two fingers inside of you. Your fingers dug into her skin at how amazing it felt to be filled up by her again. When you opened your eyes once more she was still watching you intently.

"You feel so fucking good," she said, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Mm," she glanced down, slowly drawing her fingers out until they rest at your entrance before pushing in again more swiftly. "So fucking tight."

"Jesus Christ," you said as your hands came to her arms and you clutched them while your head rolled back into the pillow.

"I want you cumming all over my fingers," she told you with quiet assuredness. "Not just tonight. Any and every fucking night you'll let me," she said as she tucked her head down and began to kiss your neck, drawing a shuddering whimper out of you.

"Oh Jess," you moaned as your hips ground into her waiting hand. A shiver ran through you as she breathed against your neck and nipped at you.

"My name sounds so good coming out of your mouth," she praised.

If you had any kind of witty quip, it was immediately extinguished as she began to pump fully and steadily in and out of your hot, wet tunnel. A heady moan worked its way up your throat as she curled her fingers inside of you like earlier, each stroke sending a pulse through you.

You wrapped your legs around her and she began to thrust into you, using her hips to push her fingers deeper and harder into you.

"You look so good underneath me. You're so beautiful," she said as she continued to fuck you and it wasn't long until you could feel your wetness dripping down you and onto the sheets.

You were never overly vocal in bed, especially given the dorm situation and neighbours. But the way her thumb teased your clit and the way her fingers filled you with each stroke, your voice resounded off of the walls of your dorm.

Soon you could feel your core tightening much as it did earlier. You clenched around her fingers as she panted above you. You didn't need to tell her you were close; she fucked you steadily, carrying you over the threshold. Your whole body stiffened, fingers digging sharply into her skin as she groaned in response as you began to convulse around her fingers.

"God, you are so gorgeous cumming in my arms like this," she declared as she continued to pump in and out of you, slowing only when you began to grow slack in her embrace.

"Holy fuck," you eventually panted. She was laying slow, tender kisses along your shoulder as she waited you out.

"Your roommate's not coming back tonight, is she?" She asked.

"No," you said and she cracked a salacious grin.

"Good."

-------

The next morning you awoke. You inadvertently groaned as you shifted. Your body was exhausted. The memories of last night flooded your mind and you glanced over only to see the space next to you unoccupied.

You sat up immediately and your eyes scanned the room for any evidence of Jessie. Her shoes were gone, her clothes. You sat up further as your heart began to thump loudly in your chest and confusion settled over you.

You shook your head with a frown. No. This didn't make sense. Not after everything.

You reached over to grab your phone. As you did, you spied a sticky note on your bedside table.

"I'm a morning person. What can I say! I'm getting us coffee and croissants. I'll be back soon. - J"

The lump in your throat immediately subsided and you released a breath you hadn't known you were holding. You opened your phone to see a text from her as well.

"Just in case you missed the note. I'm getting coffee and croissants. Be back soon, Beautiful."

You laid back on the bed, pulling the sheets up with you and letting out another sigh as your body relaxed once more.

Okay. This made much more sense. It wasn't all a lie.

A short while later you heard the door handle turn and the door was tentatively pushed open a crack. You found yourself smiling immediately as she tip-toed in, her straightening and smiling fully when she saw you were awake.

"Good morning," she greeted as she approached with said coffee and baked goods in hand.

"You're lucky, Fleming," you teased as you rolled onto your side as she set everything down. "I was about to lose it until I saw your note."

Jessie gave you a teasing look as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She spoke, unbothered, "Waking up next to a beautiful woman who I think is amazing? Yeah, I am lucky."

You chuckled as she kissed your forehead. "Well, I didn't get that luxury. Just a cold and lonely bed," you teased.

"I get antsy once I'm up. I didn't want to wake you," she explained. You pulled her in for a kiss.

"Fine. I forgive you."

Jessie smiled, returning your kiss. "Thank you. And, mmm, morning breath."

"Oh my God," you gasped, mortified as you swatted at her, only causing her to laugh. She leaned back in, pushing you down onto the bed with a kiss.

"Hey, I don't mind. I want you, morning breath and all," she chuckled.

"You better," you grumbled good-naturedly as she continued to kiss you. Her hand began to wander and you knew very well what she'd find.

"Mm, and it seems like you want me, too," she grinned. You chuckled, but rolled your hips into her hand.

"Coffee's not the only way to wake me up."

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

NATIONAL ANTHEM- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Rich! Peter x Country Club! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You work at the local country club as a barcart girl and you run into your crush, aka the son of the richest man in town-Peter Parker. Simple flirting becomes something... more.

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing, drinking :)

i'm your national anthem, god, you're so handsome- take me to the hamptons, bugatti veyron... he loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon -national anthem, lana del rey

Money is the anthem, of success- so before we go out- what’s your address? You hummed along to the sweet melody as it trickled out of the old stereo from your cart, speakers crackling slightly.

It was a hot summers day, you felt a little bead of sweat drip down the back of your neck as you breathed in the fresh air, smelling of fresh cut grass and fancy colone. It was days like this when you were most busy on the golf course, barley able to squeeze in a lunch break before someone came up to you, begging for a whisky sour.

But today you had tucked yourself away in a little hidden spot, a perfect view of scenery, the green hills stretching on for miles.

Sipping on a sweet ice tea from your straw you fiddled with, you watched as Peter Parker braced himself before swinging, club hitting the ball with a clean wack! before thudding down near the hole.

The wind rustled the flag and the fabric of his polo shirt, hair ruffled under his baseball cap.

You tried not to stare but it was impossible.

The way he smiled was intoxicating, and the way he laughed at his friends jokes… god you hoped to make him laugh like that someday.

Though he was almost four years older, the two of you had met during your freshman year of university. You weren’t close, but you werent strangers either. The odd hello was said, a smile and a passing glance in the library from his books.

Now you were practically about to graduate and he was working on his masters, his school out of state. He was home for the summer though, which was nice.

It just meant you could possibly serve him, which also made you anxious beyond belief because that meant you had to talk to him again. You took a bigger sip until you heard the straw suck up the bottom of the glass and the melting ice to ease your butterflies.

Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck- I said can we party later on he said yes, yes, yes!

Another deep breath.

He walked in your general direction, but you doubted he could see you. You prayed the low hanging branches covered you, or at least your face. You tried to look out at the rolling hills in the distance, admiring the scenery.

It was very out of your element, but you couldn’t deny the fact it was beautiful here. The ever so fancy country club estate glimmered in the sun, tall hedges trimmed to perfection with roses blooming in the gardens.

You could just see the tall fountain spilling water down, next to the tennis court. Sometimes you worked the bar there, or handed out water and towels, but you preferred being a cart girl.

It made your life much more interesting, to drive around and to see more people. Today you got to see your favourite person.

And apparently he got to see you.

The branches rustled and got pulled to the side, a buff, 6’4 man staring down at you. “Hey sorry, am I bothering you?”

You almost choked on your straw as you bite down on it. “No, no sorry I was just on my break. But how can I help you?”

“Oh shit my bad, I’ll leave you to it-“ He went to turn away, then stopped. Whipped back around.

“Wait- Y/N? Is that you?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah hey Peter.” you smiled.

“Jeez it’s been a while! I missed seeing you around. How’s life been?”

He missed you?! No, he missed seeing you. That’s different. Get a fucking grip woman.

“I missed you too! Or- wait erm… It’s been good! How’s life at Warner?”

His eyes brightened as you stumbled over your words, pleased you remembered where he was.

“It’s good. Super good. Lots of sunshine, and I’ve made some friends.”

“Not failing anything I hope?” you teased and he laughed.

“No, no I would never. But it’s good to be home for the summer. How’s your program going?” he asked, taking off his hat to run a hand through his messy hair, slicking it back from falling back into his eyes.

You tried not to stare at his arms but it was deemed impossible. His shirt fit him so well, his biceps strained in the fabric as they curled, and you could see whispers of a tattoo on his one arm. Jesus Christ.

“Super good. Almost finished, actually. Not sure what’s next, but working here has helped pay for most of it.”

“That’s awesome, you should be so proud. You’re a hard worker Y/N, seriously. You’ve always been.”

You almost melted at his praise, sinking deep into your seat as your tennis skirt fanned out across your thighs. There was no way he didn’t know about the effect he had on you. He had to know he drove you crazy.

“Thank you so much Peter. It means a lot coming from you.” You beamed.

“Awh shucks. Well anyways, I just came because I saw a cart over here and was going to snag a drink, but if you’re on break I won’t bother you.”

“No, no don’t be silly. What can I get you?” you scrambled up, popping open your cooler filled with ice and drinks. “You’re sure?” he asked, standing closer to you, to see what you had.

You squirmed, shivering even though there was no breeze. “Of course. I’m practically done it anyways. Happy to help.” you smiled, trying your very best to be professional and not look at him like you wanted to rip his clothes off at this very second.

“Just a Heineken please doll.” The pet name was going to make you spirial. Jesus. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. I’m easy like that.” You grabbed a cup, scooping ice before pouring the chilled beer. “Here. It’s on the house.” you handed it to him, setting down the empty glass. He shook his head, fishing into his pocket.

“Don’t be silly. Here-“ he handed you a hundred and your eyes widened in surprise and shock.

“For your troubles.” he smirked. “Peter- I can’t, I can’t take this.”

“Then take this too.” He pulled out a tiny slip of paper, crumped as if it had been in his pocket for some time. You opened it, revealing his phone number in fancy writing- the cursive that reminded you of your grandmothers. A little smiley face was printed next to it, which you mirrored back.

“Have you just had this in your pocket in case you bump into a girl?” you asked, laughing.

“I found out you worked here and I wrote it down, waiting until I had an excuse to bump into you. Now I have one.” he winked, lifted his glass in a cheers motion before turning around, emerging from the forest to jog up to his friends.

You watched him in disbelief, jaw slack on the ground. You fought to pick it back up, trying to not crumple the paper anymore as you held onto it for dear life. A wave of giddiness washed over you, your body hot to the touch, head spinning. Clutching the paper to your chest, you sighed.

Simply hoping something would actually come out of this.

For once in your life.

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

Something was coming out of this. Key word, was. Lines were blurred, and you weren’t sure if it was currently happening, could’ve happened, or had happened.

It had been a week since the original occurrence, when he had you nearly swooning and begging at his feet. Each day was a little game the two of you played, who could spy on each other first.

It had you picking up extra shifts, just to possibly see him that day, or for longer. The past few days you had worked at the bar by the tennis court, watching the ball bounce back and forth until a familiar face found his way to your bar, despite the fact he was on the opposite side of the property, and had bar carts at his disposal.

It made you feel like a teenage girl again, kicking your feet at the slightest interaction. If he wasn’t at your bar, he had found time to walk past your station (which was always very much out of his way), just to give a little wave, or to check up on you.

A few little texts had been exchanged, nothing more then simple, harmless flirting. That’s what you were telling yourself, and that was the story you were sticking to. Nothing more then that. So whenever he came over to fiddle with the straws, or suck the lemon wedge dry without making a face just to prove he could, you smooshed the feelings of need deep down, as much as you could.

Today was no different.

It was hot, one of the hottest days of the summer. You fanned yourself with a clipboard, thankful for the first time you were working in the bar by the tennis court, where it was air conditioned.

You didn’t understand how people could continue to play as if their life depended on it in the hot, beating sun. It was torturous to watch. You were extremely busy, barley getting a moment to sit down and rest your poor, aching feet- dozens of people swarming the bar for a cool drink.

Ice had to be refilled two times already, and you presumed it would be another two times before your shift was over.

“Busy there eh?” a familiar voice called from across the counter, and for the first time all day you were genuinely happy to serve someone.

“You again! It’s almost like you’re stalking me, or something.” you teased, quickly dropping everything you were doing to go over to see him.

“Something like that. Hey listen, I have a question to ask you.”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it, I swear. The cops have nothing on me.” His eyes widened in mock surpise and his hands went up in surrender.

“Woah. Jeez, I’ll let them know. I have no idea how you found out I was working for them but I guess my disguise is shit.”

“It is shit. I’ve been keeping tabs on you to give you tips on how to be more discreet.” He laughed, swatting you with a straw he grabbed.

“No seriously, my parents are out of town and I was going to throw a party, but I won’t unless you come to it.”

“Well shit, that’s a lot of pressure. You’re basing this whole thing on me going, so if I don’t go everyone will be disappointed at me for cancelling it?” you teased, grabbing the ingredients to make his usual.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You know I don’t mean it like that. But I’d like you to come, it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

“I don’t really socialize, so I’m sure no one would miss me. Plus, no one knows me.”

“I know you. And I would miss you, and you’re the only person I care about in terms of showing up.”

You smiled softly as his confession, trying to play it cool despite the fact your stomach was currently doing cartwheels. You didn’t even know if you were making his drink right, you prayed muscle memory would save you this time.

“You’d miss me? You just wanna talk to me more, do you like me or something?”

“Or something.” he smirked, smacking a twenty on the table, and you didn’t even bother to give him back his change. He refused to accept it back, you had already tried.

“Thanks for the drink sweetcheeks. It’s on Friday, and if you don’t show I’m gonna call the whole thing off, mid party and then everyone’s gonna be pissed at you.”

“Or at you for making up that stupid rule.” you snarked, sliding him over his glass, and grabbing a clean towel to wipe down your space. You could already feel two peoples eyes on you, waiting for a drink. They could wait a little longer.

“Show up then.” he shrugged. “But wait, I don’t even have your address-“ you called after him as he walked towards the exit, back towards to the heat and blinding sun. He waved his phone, without even looking back.

“Good thing we have these then eh sweets?”

“Smartass.” you grumbled under your breath as his laughed, and you watched the door swing behind him as you were stuck behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” you asked the stranger sitting near you, wishing more then anything it was Peter still there instead.

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

He was massive. Wait no- sorry, his house was massive. (Did you seriously think you’d jump the gun that quickly? Get over yourself).

You stared up at it as you emerged from your car, so out of place in this fancy establishment. He lived not only in a gated community but his property was privately gated as well.

Didn’t shock you.

You knew his family was rich, but jesus you didn’t know this rich. Dozens of cars were parked, all range rovers and catialcs as you locked your simple looking black civic.

Oh well. He invited me after all.

You belonged here. You were allowed to be here, no matter how many second thoughts you had looking at the fancy fountain, the perfectly manicured lawn and ferns, a perfect cone shape as they lead up to the massive pillars and white staircase.

You had dealt with snobby rich people before at your job, and you could do it again. Not that Peter was snobby in any way. If anything, he was one of the only ones you knew who was humble and down to earth. Hopefully his friends would be the same.

You smoothed out your mini dress, attempting to get rid of the wrinkles. Nervous, you figited with the pearls on your neck, listening to your heels clack on the pavement before you found yourself up the stairs.

You heard music, but it wasn’t as loud as you expected. No thumping floors or shaking walls, and you couldn’t see any flashing lights. You weren’t even sure what you expected. But it certainly wasn’t this. This seemed oddly calm. You could still clearly hear the cicadas as they chirped outside under the stars.

You lifted your hand to knock, and the double doors swung open as your hand was mid air, mouth opening in confusion.

“You’re not Peter.”

“So you’re observant too. You’re prettier then he described you. He’s been watching out the window for you like he’s on guard duty.”

“Bucky stop flirting with my girl!” a voice called from the other room, and you watched as Peter emerged from the other room, jogging over to you with a smile.

My girl? You fought a smile, trying to pretend his words meant nothing but you lost. Bad.

“Hi. Sorry I was just-“

“Waiting for me. I heard from your friend here. It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” you nodded, laughing as Peter’s cheeks turned a lighter of light pink.

“Likewise. Go into greater detail next time Parker.”

“No, because then you dicks will try to steal her.”

Bucky laughed, walking back in the direction Peter came from, which you assumed was where the main party was. You looked around, surveying the massive foyer- tall pillars also inside, bright chandeliers glistening over the towering staircase.

It was beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire the mural on the ceiling, mimicking a Renaissance style piece.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming. You look beautiful, by the way. I mean you always do- but you look amazing now. Sorry I’m not sure why I’m rambling, I just smoked a joint and I’m nervous.” he trailed on and you laughed, reaching up to touch his bicep in reassurance.

You weren’t sure where the confidence came from, but you were happy about it. His skin was soft and warm, and he leaned into your touch.

“Don’t be nervous. If anything, I’m nervous. This is your party! And it’s so- wow.” you breathed, looking up again at the fresco.

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you. You’ve already met Bucky, I see.”

You giggled. “Hopefully they all like me. Are they friends from school?”

“Some from school, some from home, some from the country club.”

“Ah I see. So a wide variety.”

“Something like that.” he smirked, placing a hand on your lower back as he guided you towards a mysterious hallway. The hand placement. Oh my god the hand placement. You savoured his touch as he guided you, looking up at him despite wearing heels.

Somehow he still towered over you. It made you feel things.

You heard bustle from the room he was guiding you towards, the sound of music leading you onwards. Dozens of people mingled around what looked like a game room. Some lounged on leather couches with drinks in their hands, others playing a round of pool.

You saw Bucky and some others with a deck of cards, others at the bar top. It was spacious, detailed wood panels across the ceiling, with soft lights mounted on the walls, creating a glow. You admired the dozens of paintings perched on the walls, staring at Peter in amazement.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Thanks.” he smiled, taking it in with you, as if he didn’t see this every day. It made you like him even more somehow, if that was possible.

“Hey everyone this is Y/N. Party is no longer threatened to get cancelled. You’re welcome.” he called out, and everyone cheered.

“To Y/N” Bucky called out in toast, raising his glass. They didn’t even use solo cups. This shit was fancy as fuck.

You laughed, waving to everyone before Peter pulled you aside, the music picking up its tempo as the chatter resumed. “Can I get you a drink? For once?” he asked, and you nodded- following him over to the bar.

“It’s nice to see you behind the counter for once.” you smirked, giggling as he whipped a towel over his shoulder like a real bartender. “What do you mean for once? I will let you know that I am the most prestigious bartender in France. They don’t even call me a bartender, the call me “tender of the bar” " he drawled.

“Just a cider please. I’m easy like that.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank god. I don’t know how to make anything but a whisky sour.”

“Hey, that's a start!” you smiled, watching as he grabbed a chilled glass and slid ice in it, before pouring your drink from the can. “Madame.”

“Thank you, monsior. Mmmm fantastic. You should work with me!” He snorted, throwing the towel down. “They would fire me before I could pick up a glass. You’re too talented, you'd outshine me. You already do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Silly is my middle name.”

“I thought handsome was your middle name?”

“Alright woah now-“

----------------------------------------------------------------- A few hours had passed, and the night was still young. You were drunk, a little- and your shoes had come off. You didn’t know where they went, or where your phone was, or why you were outside with Peter.

But you were outside with Peter. And it was nice.

The air was chill against your skin, but not cold enough you had goosebumps. It was soft against your flushed skin from the alcohol, and you savoured the breeze as it fluttered your dress. Everyone was still inside, but you needed a breather.

You could see the lights shinning brightly from here, where you were on the pool deck. Because of course he had a pool. He also had a tennis court, a golf course, and an indoor pool. No surprises there.

You heard the sliding glass door open and shut, Peter emerging with glasses of water in hand. “I figured you’d want this.” he said, walking over to you with a grin, and a fluster on his cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” you sighed, the water trickling down your hand as you grabbed the ice cold glass, taking a long chug. It cleared your head as it slithered down your throat, relieving your thirst.

“So, is it okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“Here. This. Me.”

You stared at him, cocking your head in interest, attempting to study him. “It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

“You think so?” he asked, a glimmer in his eyes as he stepped closer to you, your chests practically touching as he grabbed your empty glass, setting it down beside you.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid up, cupping your cheek- thumb brushing your skin making you shiver. Your nipples hardened under his touch- or the chill, you didn’t know.

All you knew was that his eyes were burning holes into yours with the utmost lust you thought you’d simply combust.

“Is it okay if I touch you here doll?”

You nodded.

“What do you want Y/N? Do you want this?” he asked, voice practically begging. The music from the party thudded off the windows, lyrics slipping through the cracks under the doors to echo into your ears.

I sing the national anthem while I am standing over your body hold you like a python, and you can’t keep your hands off me or your pants on, see whatcha done to me, King of Chevron…

“I want this. I want it all.” you murmured, leaning into his touch.

“Can you swim?” he whispered, inching closer and closer to your lips.

Wait- what?

“Ye-” you let out a scream as you felt the world tilt under your feet, tumbling backwards into the hands of a strong man holding your waist. A splash erupted, the world turning a murky dark blue as the music muffled. The water was surprisingly warm as you gasped for air, frantically reaching out for Peter to hold.

He was even warmer than the water despite the cool air, and he laughed as you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his torso, dress hunched up as it stuck to your body like a second skin.

You became very much aware of how his shirt did the same, except it was white, and you could see the perfect outline of his abs and his arm tats.

“Peter what the fuck?!” you shrieked, cut off as his lips crashed to yours, engulfing you with heat and a tenderness you’ve never felt before.

His lips were like pillows as they caressed yours, hands squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist as he tugged you closer and closer, until your breaths had merged and you had practically become one.

Hands flew up to his hair, tugging on the wet strands as he begged for more, and more- teeth clashing, tongues begging for entrance before they slipped in.

You couldn’t help but moan, breathing harder as his squeezed your ass hard enough to bruise, unleashing whatever restraint he had been holding. You moaned again and he had to pull away, resting his forehead against yours, breathing hard as he watched your mascara smudge and trickle down your cheeks.

“Y/N fuck- if you keep moaning like that… I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you asked innocently, shivering.

“I’m trying so hard to be a gentleman and not go past this, but if you keep doing that I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” he murmured, bringing a hand up to stroke a stray strand of water from your cheek, kissing each one.

“That’s okay.” you smiled, grinding your hips against his, rubbing against him as he moaned.

“Jesus christ baby. Fuck.”

You giggled, feeling his very prominent bulge through his pants. You grabbed his chin, lips melting against his once more, just to get a taste of him. You were addicted- heart thudding in your chest, blood turning to molten lava in your veins.

It was like his lips were coated in honey, so sweet you practically licked them. “You’re just so sweet.” you sighed into his lips, kissing him harder. It wasn’t long before you were interrupted, the sound of a sliding glass door opening.

“You guys almost done out here?” Bucky called out, Peter's head whipping to him in annoyance.

“ What do you want?!” he called out, exasperated. “Steve and I wanna swim. Unless you guys want us to join you, I’m sure there wouldn’t be too many complaints on this end.” Bucky smirked, winking at you.

What a goddamn flirt. You couldn’t help but smile back, even if he had just interrupted the best experience of your entire life.

“We’ll be out in a minute Bucky- calm down.”

“No need!” a voice called from the house, to which Steve ran and cannonballed into the pool, splashing you.

Peter sighed, leaning his forehead back against yours. “I am so sorry about them. This is not as romantic as I had hoped in the slightest.”

“What are you talking about? This is totally romantic. The drenched rat look I’m wearing is what the movies had envisioned.”

He laughed, kissing your forehead with a quick peck, before Bucky jumped in right after. “The most beautiful drenched rat I’ve ever seen. I promise you, we’ll have time for this again.”

“Many times?” you asked flirtatiously, and he nodded.

”Many times.”

“Good. Now, I suppose we should all play mermaids now. What powers do you wanna have?”

[takes1]

p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

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[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

-

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

-

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

-

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

-

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

-

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

-

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

-

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

-

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

-

(There's got so much on her mind. 

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

-

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 6

After the park, all Abby could talk about was her day with Bucky. Even when her eyes were closed, she kept chatting away, past her bedtime. Part of you found it adorable & the other part had you worried. Abby is way to attached for your liking.

Jason was an absent father, but that still doesn't mean Abby didn't miss him or wasn't affected by his death. He died in a plane crash. His daredevil ways that first attracted you to him was the same reason you were alone now. He wasn't brave & heroic, dying for his country or on a mission. He was foolish and selfish, hot-dogging it when he lost control of his aircraft. Most people dropped the subject after you say he died in a plane crash, assuming it was work related. He was stupid. Always chasing the next high. The next rush. He had a wife and baby at home. He should have been thinking of you and Abby.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt to Bucky, but look at his job. He was an Avenger for God's sake! The bad guys he chases were much worse than your common criminals. The risks were much higher. You were second-guessing you decision in exposing Abby to Bucky. Not that you could truly stop it. Abby was drawn to him at first sight.

*****

"There you are." Bucky enters your office & sits in the chair opposite your desk.

Pushing your lunch to the side, "Hey Buck, did you need something?"

"For the past couple days I thought I'd see you in the cafeteria."

"Sounds like high school," laughing, "I was studying in the library." Bucky frowns at you, "I usually bring home lunch so i eat in my office. It's easier."

Leaning forward, "Well, tomorrow, would you have lunch with me? We don't have to stay here. We can go to this diner around the corner. Their burgers are pretty great." He picks up that you're unsure. "C'mon, doll. I know you want to."

You laugh at his ego. I mean, he wasn't wrong. "Ok."

"I'll swing by around 1p. Is that too late?"

"No, that's fine."

"Then its a date."

"It's not a date. It's lunch." He doesn't say anything, just gives you a look. Its a date.

******

The following night at the gym with Sam, Sam broaches a subject that the others were shying away from. "I saw you leaving with Y/N earlier."

"We went to the diner for lunch."

"So, what's going on with you two?"

Bucky shrugs, "Just 2 friends having lunch."

"MmmHmmm. Do you know what you're doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N's a special breed. She's a single mother. She don't need you wasting her time. You take on extra responsibilities if you start dating her."

"Relax."

"I'm just saying, you can easily find someone else to kill time with. You string her along, she's not the only one you'll be hurting. From what i hear, her daughter is obsessed with you."

"We went on a picnic & lunch. We're still figuring out what this is."

"And that's fine. Just keep in mind she brings more to the table than just herself."

"Ok, got it. Lecture over?"

Sam shrugs and leaves the gym.

*****

"Mama?"

"Yes."

"When am I seeing Bucky again?"

"I don't know, baby. He's very busy with work." You feel a little guilty at how badly Abby wants to see Bucky & you've been having lunch with him everyday for the past couple weeks. He's been dropping by your office with his own lunch to spend time with you.

"Can I asks him? I can draws him a letter." You laugh but stop when you see the earnest little look on her face.

"You know what? That sounds like a very good idea. Maybe you can invite him over to watch a movie & then dinner?"

Abby screams, climbing on the couch to give you a wet kiss on your cheek. "Bucky comes to my house??"

You release a deep breath, "Yes, you can invite him here." She runs off to her room to draw his letter. You lean your head back on the couch hoping you made the right choice.

*****

LIke clockwork, Bucky shows up at 1pm for lunch with you. You slide Abby's drawing across the desk to him. He has a smile on his face even before he opens it. When he opens it, his smile freezes and he looks between you and Abby's drawing. You cover your lips with your fingertips while you watch him, trying to suppress a smile.

"Doll, you're going to have to help me out here. Wh...what am I looking at?"

"What? You can't figure it out?" Bucky is put on the spot. "You're lucky Abby isn't here." You tap the left side of the picture. "What's this?"

"It looks like guts and eyeballs."

"Bucky!!"

"I don't know."

"It's spaghetti and meatballs."

"Oh! Ok. So this is us," indicating 3 stick figures in the middle. "And...I need help again. "This isn't brains."

"Jesus! You're terrible at this. It's a bowl of popcorn. Abby is trying to invite you over for a movie and dinner at our place."

Bucky laughs so hard, he has to rest his head on your desk. "So, I'm not invited over to commit a murder, because I don't do that anymore."

"My baby does NOT murder people! I'm not sure I want you over anymore."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry." He grabs your hand from across the desk & kisses your knuckles. "Please don't take away the invite. I want to come over."

"Will you be free this Saturday?"

"Yes, I leave next week for a mission, but I'll be here on Saturday."

"Ok," you text him your address. "Maybe 3p? It'll be after her nap & we can watch a movie before dinner."

"Thank you, I'll be there." He give you his charming smile & you have to look away. You hope this isn't a mistake.

Next Chapter

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @enchantedbarnes @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan

[riovidalupdates]

LAST GIRL STANDING - ii.

previous part

pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, agatha harkness x fem!reader, rio vidal x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to learn that you can love more than one person—because you love them in different ways. the problem: they love you in one way. so, who are you in love with and who gets hurt?

warnings: minor cursing.

a/n: apologies for taking so long for an update. my job is about 10+ hours for four days and on my off days i'm working on set designs so i'm usually sleeping when i get the chance. please go back and reread the first part of this series as i had revised and edited parts of it while adding more to it. I will be adding a taglist soon, if you wish to for me to add you, let me know! with that, enjoy!

You headed to the library, your mind still racing with the remnants of your conversation with Wanda from last night. You had a few hours before your film history class started, and you needed time to clear your head before facing Agatha, the insanely attractive TA, who had unknowingly occupied a corner of your heart for the past semester. You didn’t really know Agatha well enough (or at all) to say much about her, aside from the occasional conversation about coursework. Yet, you had spent countless hours thinking about her, imagining what it would be like to know her beyond the confines of the classroom.

There was a familiarity to her presence that was both reassuring and nerve-wracking. The few times you’d spoken outside of lectures never seemed to work in your favor. You were unable to get more than two words out before something catastrophic occurred like spilling coffee on yourself, stepping in a pile of dog shit, and maybe tripping over a tree branch into a pit of mud(you are not god's favorite).

You'd scurry away before Agatha could do anything. In fact, you'd just barely hear a quiet but polite, "Goodbye?" You only glance over your shoulder when you were far enough away, seeing the outline of her body still in the same place but with her stare directly at you.

Getting lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the presence of another leaning over the table and whispering, “Careful, y/n. If you think any harder, you might accidentally unlock the secrets of the universe.”

You blink, glancing up and see Wanda. “Or I might just discover where all my missing socks go. That’s probably a more realistic goal.”

The redhead giggles, pulling out the chair next to you and sits. “Hey, I’d argue that’s an even bigger mystery. You’d probably get a Nobel Prize for solving that one.”

“I fear that will only end with me having more mismatched socks and even more questions. And maybe a headache.”

Wanda smiles, tilting her head to the side as she always does when you humor her. You can’t help the warmth of blush creep up on your cheeks and ears. It was a habit when you had that type of attention from her. It was never necessarily a bad thing. More so, weird because you don’t completely understand it. You do, yet you don’t at least.

You continue to watch the way she falls into a fit of giggles as she scrunches up her nose and leans forward, causing her hair to cascade over her shoulders. There was always elegance surrounding Wanda. Wherever her presence was, it followed.

You are never one to deny how objectively gorgeous the shorter girl is, but there’s more to her than just physical features. More to Wanda than what you and everyone else around her knew, though, her soul radiates an amplified aspect of exactly how natural her beauty is. What you may not know, may be the one thing that fuels it all.

“So, what’s got you in a deep thought?” You hear her ask.

“The fact that we as humans grow limbs. We start off as an egg and then we grow. We grow arms, legs, fat, eyeballs, bones. Everything. We do that. We start as nothing and then boom! We have these…” you frail your arms around in front and Wanda has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“How about we go get some snacks before you head to class? I hear thinking causes hunger and existential crisis.”

You smile, nodding your head. “I think you need to start reading again. All those romcoms are getting to you.”

And so what if you’re are going through a form of crisis? Wanda is here. It may not be as easy as flipping a switch, but her presence is enough for you to feel 2% of sanity.

-

Today is no different. You stayed after class, lingering just long enough to ask Agatha a question about the upcoming exam, hoping it might lead to a longer conversation.

“Do you have any suggestions for additional reading?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Agatha looked up from the papers she was grading, her expression thoughtful. “There’s a great essay on sexuality and gender within horror films if you’re interested in some extra insight. I can send you the link if you’d like.”

“That would be great,” you replied, and for a moment, your eyes met in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

But then, just like that, she turned back to grading, and the moment was gone. It was always like this—brief glimpses of something deeper, but never enough to grasp. You couldn’t tell if you were reading too much into it, or if there really was a chance that Agatha saw you as more than just another student.

It really shouldn’t be much of a shock to you. The two of you are nothing more than just a student and a teacher assistant. You aren’t friends. She has no need to delve into her personal life with you.

While Agatha has checked out from the conversation, you hadn’t. There’s more that you want to say. Though, the longer you stand frozen in place, the longer the moment has passed. It would be weird to say anything else now.

“Have a good day,” you bid. While leaving the classroom, you  tried to shake off the disappointment that seemed to linger, refusing to be ignored. It had been easier when you could write off your feelings for Agatha as a simple crush, a harmless admiration for someone who probably didn’t know you existed beyond the realm of academia.

You weren't sure what you wanted from her, exactly. A part of you longed for more than the polite interactions, yet another part feared what would happen if that boundary was ever crossed. The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you found yourself second-guessing if you should do anything.

“If you would hold for a minute, L/N!”

“No.”

You’re halfway out the building when he steps in your line of vision. You grip onto the strap of your bag, clutching it close. Must he always act like you two are buds?

Vision chuckles, stopping in front of you and a bit too close than usual. Then again, he’s never been good with boundaries or personal space. He’s like a parasite. Constantly attaching himself to someone and sucking the life out of them if it benefits him, he happens to have a talent of hiding it well enough for it not to be noticed.

While you have negative emotions towards the man, you don’t entirely resent him in ways you wish you did. So what if he does forget about the dinner plans that you spend hours on for him to impress Wanda? Or gets too annoyed for how much time she spends with you (ya know the person who walked in diapers with her)? Or when Wanda mentions that she doesn’t need riches, she only needs sincerity and he gifts her a new car?

Okay, maybe he’s got one too many poor attributes to his character, however, there are aspects that make him not inherently the douchebag you desperately want him to be.

Like—“You are rather a chirpy one, aren’t you?”

You stare at him with no amusement written on your face. “My interests lies anywhere but you.”

He shares the ‘boy next door’ charm of a smile, shoving his hand in his pocket, and kicks the toe of your shoe. “I am here to request a favor,” he starts, “I have upset Wanda by overstepping her boundaries. Before speaking your mind, I have apologized to her this morning—“

“—what is your favor?” You asked annoyed.

“I wish to give Wanda a formal apology. Do you recall when she and I were to attend that music festival a couple years back and then we were unable to for unforeseen circumstances?”

You nodded your head, motioning him to continue on.

“Well, I remember you had mentioned that you knew one of the bands performing because you have a friend apart of it. I just-Wanda was and still is a massive fan. You know our 3 year anniversary is coming up-“

“—you can’t buy tickets?” You snickered.

You could tell he was getting slightly irritated by your interruptions. Good. He should for disrupting your semi-peaceful state of mind.

“Forget it. You’re such a nuisance.” He huffs, walking off and all you can do is give him a wave.

You knew what he was going to ask and you weren’t sure if you would have said yes to it or not..

[sniigura-archive]

Multiversal DP (1)

Chapter 2

College Au! Adam x Fem!Reader x Canon! Adam

Summary: You thought God was looking down at you with a pitiful look, when your apartment burned down and the only person who answered your call was your whacky situationship.

But when a weird angel appears, who uncannily looks like Adam just in bigger and even more obnoxious, you realise that God was straight up laughing in your face.

This is based on my College Au! but you don’t need to read it to understand this.

CW/TW: Fire, Porn with slight Plot, Two-Shot, Jealousy, Controlling behaviour, TW ADAM, misogyny, toxic relationship, sci-fi bullshit which makes no sense, Mutual masturbation, slight financial dependency on readers part, possessive behaviour, tell me if i missed anything

A/N: This will be a two shot i swear ‼️‼️ nothing more nothing less

Today was a bad Saturday.

It was exhausting and went on longer than it should. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. First you had to drive to your college library to give back a book otherwise you would be fined, then you had to work an extra shift because someone got sick (hangover from the party yesterday you skipped), then your bus didn’t come without warning? What the fuck was that about? Since it was the last one you had to fucking walk home.

You were tired to your bones.

If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would have noticed the light coming from the floor above your apartments, and the fact that it glowed suspiciously orange and red. Walking up the stairs, the further up you got the more you noticed a heaviness in the air. Is someone using their bbq inside again?

Until the fire alarm went off, while you were one floor away from your apartment. What? You just stood there, frozen in shock. Is this a test? Standing still on the steps you considered continuing your way home, until everyone started spilling out of their own apartments. Ugh. So you’re doing this.

Fleeing with everyone else the building, you stood outside while you watched as the flames finally showed themselves from the outside. Since the apartment where it started was directly above yours, you saw the flames caught over to your own. It smelled like smoke, despair and money you will have to spend to replace everything. You don’t even know if your landlord has insurance. He hasn’t repaired your AC unit in 2 years now.

It felt dreamish, the way the fire department came, being able to see how a big portion was consumed by flames, and in the end sitting at the curb while freezing your ass off. One thing is clear, you won’t be able to sleep in your own bed tonight.

Your neighbours sat with you, together with a fireguy who chatted with everyone about the damage. Some sort of support beam came down. You didn’t bother engaging in the conversation.

It drifted towards where everyone is going to stay, your neighbours already had that figured out. He’s staying with his boyfriend, she’s going to visit her sister and they are going to each take a child and visit their own parents. When the eyes moved to you, you felt uncomfortable. Where will you stay?

“You should start calling your family, sweetie.” The old woman told you, her voice rough from all the cigarettes she smokes.

Everything today got you fucked up. Taking in a shaky breath and wiping your hands on your jeans, you stood up to make a few calls. Walking away from the group and basically hiding behind the firetruck, you didn’t want everyone to see that fact that you have like 3 contacts in your phone. You think they already know, though.

Since it’s in the middle of the night, or more like the new day already, Monica didn’t answer, neither did Dymphna or Bernadette. Maybe you should just crash in a motel. Then you remember what’s in your budget and how the motel in your price range had some weird incidents regarding rats and cockroaches and meth deals.

Tapping your phone against your forehead, you tried to keep calm and think. Then you remembered who gifted you that phone and you sighed.

Opening Adam’s contact, you hit the call button before you could chicken out. Holding your phone against your ear, you felt panic wash over you and before you could fumble around to end the call, Adam picked up.

“Fucking hell, baby, if yer callin’ me for anythin’ but a good dicking down ‘m gonna be pissed.” His voice was gruff and it’s clear to you that you just woke him up. He mumbled out the words.

All you could muster up was a sob and a weak “Sorry.”

“Where the fuck-“ You hang up before he could finish his sentence. Great. Why did you even think about calling Adam? Are you stupid? Desperation makes people do crazy things.

You tried to call your friends again and when everyone went to voicemail you thought about blocking them all in a blind rage because why the fuck can’t they be there during an emergency? Taking deep breath to calm yourself, you reasoned with yourself that you too would be sleeping during the witching hours.

Nervously biting down on your lower lip, you considered throwing yourself off a bridge to cope with everything. Deciding against it, you looked at your notifications instead. Adam was spamming you.

[Adam Godfree]: where r u 1:11 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:12 AM

[Adam Godfree]: send ur location 1:13 AM

[Adam Godfree]: baby 1:14 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15

[Adam Godfree]: i’m not mad just say where u are 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:16 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: answer my fcuikng calls 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: im cuminv over u btter be fucking there 1:17 AM

More messages and call attempts clogged your notifications.

The fact that Adam is the only one answering in your time of need is lowkey so embarrassing. Since you read the messages through your notifications field, you aren’t leaving him on read. You think that would have ticked him off even more.

Taking a sneak back at the street, still covering your body with the fire truck, you noticed that everyone was gone. They all have retired for the night. It was a pretty intense debacle, everyone coming out to watch and film. The fire truck was started and you jumped slightly, fleeing towards the side walk.

If a fire truck drove you over you’d be very very very unhappy.

Sitting down on the street like the loser you are, you rubbed your hands over your face. Don’t cry. You’re all alone. But don’t cry. Don’t cry. Looking up the nearest Motel near you, which you could afford, you got up. Your legs felt weak. You didn’t even have a fucking phone charger with you. At least you took your laptop and the charger with you, if any of your files were gone you’d die.

You couldn’t help but think of everything you need to replace. Ok maybe you can cry a little. Crying and walking is an honest to god awful combination but beggars can’t be choosers or whatever.

Maybe you should text Adam that everything’s fine and that you were just being a bit dramatic. It’s been like, what? 10 minutes? And he usually takes 20 minutes to get here. You feel bad that he had to drive half the way.

Just as you were about to open the chat, a car turned into your street with an illegal speed. Damn.

Is that Adam’s car??? Double damn.

Adam stopped the car besides you with squeaking breaks and tires. He threw open the car door, and even before he fully stepped out he was yelling at you, “Bitch, what the fuck?!? You have the fucking nerve to call me up in the middle of the night and then to ignore me?? Do you even know who the fuck you’re talking to? How many other-“

“My apartment burned down.” You wanted to bawl your eyes out.

Everything you have meticulously worked hard and saved up for is gone. All your memories and trinkets and plants and everything you valued.

“..You’re joking?”

You shook your head, deciding on covering your face with your hands while you full on started sobbing now. Your breathing was hysterical and you thought you were about to full on start hyperventilating now because you have to apply for new documents now and what’s with your class notes and well at least all your cards were with you. Do you have to get a P.o. box now and how much does that cost? Can you even afford to be in a motel so long, do you have to pay for that? What happens if they can’t like restore the apartment complex where will you live the market is horrible and you’re going to be homeless and in debt, won’t you? You will have to drop out or take up more shifts or even get a second job but your grades and scholarship and and and and and and

Adam walked over towards you, but you were too deep in your mental breakdown spiral to notice it, and he carefully placed his hands on your shoulders. You flinched slightly at the unexpected contact, but when you realised it’s just Adam you relaxed again. Taking your hands away from your eyes, you had them resting on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t worry that pretty little head. I will take care of everything, alright?” Adam’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. His fingers were massaging your tense muscles. You looked up at him with wet eyes and nodded pathetically at him. You didn’t trust your voice.

Adam started grinning down at you, “I have always wanted a cum dump at home, anyways.”

This just made you start crying again. Motel it is.

“Ah, bad joke. Don’t cry, cmon. You know me, babe, don’t have ta do anything you don’t wanna do.” He pulled you into his chest, his hand smoothing over your hair while the other rubbed your back. He’s warm and soft. You continued to sob into his sleeping shirt, while clutching at his shirt.

You don’t know for how long you’ve been crying for, but Adam simply stood during that time with you at the side walk, while comforting you. He didn’t speak, which was rare.

Once you have finally made the rational adult decision to calm down, after god knows how much time has passed, you lifted your head up from his chest and took a step back. You were still sniffling and you didn’t even want to image what your face was looking like.

Adam grasped your cheeks into his hands while wiping away your tears with his thumb, “Alright, alright, let’s get you to bed. Must have been exhausting for my poor, little baby.”

He leaned forward, giving your forehead a kiss. Then he grasped you by the shoulders and lead you towards the passenger seat, opening the door for you and helping you in by grasping your hand in his. Once you were sat down, with your bag at your feet, Adam leaned down towards you and put your seatbelt on for you. He closed the door and walked over to sit down in the drivers seat.

Driving to Adam’s apartment was relaxing, music was playing and you were starting to fall asleep.

“..Ho….that…ven..hap..”

“Huh?” You lifted your head up from the car window, blinking at Adam sleepily.

“I asked how the fire even happened?” Adam glanced over at you, you were going to be there soon.

You sighed, and rested your head again against the window, “Guy feel asleep with a joint in his hand…Or was it his mouth? Doesn’t matter. Curtains and carpet caught on fire.”

“Oh my fucking…You’re kidding me?” Adam drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

You stretched your arms, hands and fingers out before you, “I wish.”

Adam continued watching you, glancing at you as if you didn’t notice. He was trying to be slick. Smoothly parking his car, he got out. You opened your car door, taking your bag with you when you left the car. Adam took your bag from you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing you into his side. You both made your way to his apartment.

Taking off your thin winter coat, together with your old boots, you were ready to just pass out.

“You want me in the guest room?” You asked him, while rubbing at your eyes.

“The fuck? No. You’re sleeping with me, baby. Pun intended.” He winked at you.

You sighed warily, you’re too exhausted to even glare at Adam. He was still fighting with untying his own boots. Shifting from one leg to the other, you decided on looking around Adam’s living room. Nothing has changed. Still weirdly sterile and empty. His bedroom was at least somewhat different, filled with band posters and guitars.

After Adam finally got his shoes and jacket off, he intervened your fingers with his and lead you to his bedroom. He went and rummaged through his closet, giving you a sweatshirt, “This should do for now, we will get you new fucking clothes tomorrow….”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“Yeah, yeah, how about you remember this next time I want my dick sucked? How I’m such a nice fucking guy, and how you owe me, babe.” Adam pinched your cheek while he spoke, grinning down at you.

Dear god, please fix up your apartment as fast as possible. With lots of love, your saddest creation.

Adam answering your call is literally the devils work, you can’t explain it otherwise. Is this some sort of punishment? What did you do in your last life to deserve this.

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you got out of his grasp and turned your back to him to get dressed. Taking off your own hoodie, and bra you slipped into the sweatshirt Adam gave you. It was soft and the material was thick and nice. It was huge on you, but that’s just because Adam is a big guy. Everywhere.

Taking off your jeans, you folded your clothes messily and put them on Adam’s desk chair. Adam was already in his sleeping wear, since you gracefully woke him up in the middle of the night. He was in bed, watching you get dressed, while he yawned.

Ducking under the blanket with him, Adam grabbed your arm and dragged you towards him. It’s like he wants to live in your skin. He made your head rest against his chest, while he had his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Wake me up again today, ’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down ever fucking again.” He grumbled at you, while giving your ass a pinch.

You gasped slightly, before burying your head into his neck. He always smells nice.

Before you knew it, you were already asleep.

In your dream, a big support beam in your burning building was dropped on you. Crushing your body to the floor, with your back to the ground.

Blinking, you slowly but surely woke up, with your heart hammering against your chest. Trying to turn over, you noticed something heavy laying on you. Adam’s head was on your chest, his arms were wrapped around your back and his breathing was even. Remembering his threat, you decided on letting him sleep. Sighing and burying your hand in his soft hair, you decided on continuing snoozing.

But as soon as you buried your hands in Adam’s hair, Adam lifted his head up and was now resting his chin on your chest. Does he not know that tits are sensitive?

With his oh so charming grin on his face, you just knew he was up to no good. He shifted and was now resting his weight on his arms, besides your head, rather than using your body as a pillow. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Adam crashed your lips together, he is as shameless as always. His hand roamed your body, till he slipped it under your sweatshirt. Gently fondling your left breast. He rolled his half-hard dick on your thigh.

Disconnecting your lips from his, you whimpered against his lips.

“What happened to ‘Good morning’? ‘How did you sleep?’. What happened to that?”

Adam moved to kiss your ear, cheek and then your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses against your skin, while he panted against you.

“Mornin’ slut,” Why is his morning voice so fucking sexy? “you jerk me off right now ‘n I’m going to buy you whatfuckingever you want today.”

You would jerk him off for free. You did jerk him off for free. Are you a whore?

Adam sat up, moving so that both his knees were besides your stomach. You were happy he didn’t sit down on you, he could easily crush you. That’s sexy, though. He kneeled over you, and you saw his dick strain against his fuzzy pants.

He grasped your sweatshirt into his big hand, pulling it up towards your chin to expose your tits. Seeing them made him smirk. Taking your hand into his, he placed it on his dick and ground your palm against him.

“Watcha waiting for, baby?” He purred while looking down on you.

Adam always made you horribly nervous. No matter how often you hang out, or fuck, he always has you blushing and stuttering. Fuck. Grasping the hem of Adam’s pants into your hands, you pulled them down together with his underwear.

His dick was heavy, curving downwards and already leaking pre cum. You’ve had this monster inside you more than once, but every time you’re surprised at just how big he is. It’s not only his length, but also the girth. Jesus. Stretching you out mercilessly every time, you struggled with wrapping your fingers around him. His gold prince albert piercing glinted in the dim light.

Realising with your hand wrapped around him, that jerking him off with dry hands was probably not the move. Making sure to lick your other hand, while keeping eye contact with Adam, you wrapped your now wet hand around his member. You started with slow a slow movement, spreading his pre cum across his dick. You licked your other hand, because this was for sure a two hand job, you now were able to use your left hand for the lower part and the right hand for the top part.

Massaging his tip with your thumb, Adam groaned, “Ughh, fuck babe, you loooove serving me, don’t you? Making me cum is, like, your fucking dream job.” He laughed at his own fantasy, “Don’t worry tho, making your pretty pussy cum is my own life work.”

Adam reached back, his hand brushing over your hips and finally getting under your panties, “Sooo wet already? You’re too easy.” The way he grinned and sounds giddy made it obvious how much he enjoyed it. His fingers found your clit and then your weeping hole. He gathered the wetness on his middle and pointer finger, he then went to massage your clit.

Your hips jerked up, at the sudden pleasure cursing through your body. Moaning up at Adam, your hands stuttered their jerking movements. Quickly catching yourself, you speed up your movements while focusing on Adam rubbing at your clit.

He moved his fingers to pinch your clit in between his fingers, you whined while your hips jerked even more, “Stop that. Do it properly.” You hissed at him, while glaring up at him.

Adam simply snickered at you, but he did move back his fingers to continue rubbing your clit. You moved your left hand to massage Adam’s balls, gently moving your fingers across that sensitive part of Adam. Grasping softly in your hands, arching your palm up in a wave motion.

“Fuuuuuck, ha, you’re doing so well.” Adam moaned out, while he intensified his finger movements. Shit, you’re close. But so was Adam, you could tell by his furrowed brow, he was moving his hips to grind his dick further into your hands and fingers, his noises and breathing.

“Pleaseee, Adam, won’t you cum all over..me?” You pouted up at him, massaging his dick.

The pressure build up in your lower stomach, your pussy clenching around nothing as you felt yourself cum. Shit. Adam laughed at you, his fingers never left your clit.

It didn’t take much longer for Adam to cum after you, coating your torso white. It was hot, sticky and thick. Ugh. Adam’s fingers still didn’t left your clit. What an asshole.

“EeeeEeeenough, Adam, Oh fuck-“ You tried to angel your hips in a way that he leaves your most sensitive part alone, he chuckled and wiggled his hand out off your panties. Thank god.

Adam pulled his pants back up, and sat down besides your laying down body. You tried to catch your breath, your clean hand covered your eyes. With Adam’s sweatshirt not covering you anymore properly, you were starting to get cold.

Taking your face in his hands, Adam gave your cheek a wet kiss. He brushed his lips over your ear, before whispering in your ear, “Aren’t you just my precious little slut? Go shower, baby.”

You nodded your head at that, showering would be a smart move. Getting up, you located your clothes, before you started walking Adam gave your ass an stinging slap. Gasping in surprise, you went and covered your ass with your hands.

“Man, I didn’t even wake you up..” You grumbled at him, going over to take your clothes.

“Yeah bitch, but you made me wait till you woke up to drain my balls.” Adam got out of bed, stretching his arms over his head.

You stuck out your tongue towards Adam, with your clothes in hand you took off towards the shower. Using Adam’s stuff always felt weird to you. Obviously he doesn’t have woman shower gel, but still. Smelling like Axe was sure something, having your friends side eye you for your smell was even worse.

Getting out, you towelled yourself dry. Slipping into your clothes form yesterday, you left the bathroom. Seeing Adam in the kitchen, at the stove, you made your way over. Wrapping your arms around his mid section, you buried your head between his shoulder blades.

Adam wrapped his one hand over your intervened hands. God, he’s such a big guy.

“Hey baby, you like french toast?”

You simply mumbled a yeah into his shirt, while smelling how good Adams cologne smells. No wonder he’s so popular. If only it wasn’t for his mouth. Adam rubbed your hands with his thumb while chuckling. He turned the stove off and turned around, taking your face into his hands he gave you a deep kiss.

“You excited to fulfill your womanly role of being in the kitchen while you’re here?” Adam mumbled against your lips.

“…You piss me off beyond believe.” You shoved him away by his shoulders, while he laughed.

He didn’t stay away for long, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your bodies together.

“Why? You don’t wanna be my pretty little housewife? Nah, but seriously you do have to pull your weight ‘round here.” Adam pushed a few wet strands of your hair out of your face.

You nodded at Adam, “Of course….I know it wouldn’t be enough but I could give you the amount of rent I pay?”

Adam looked at you like you were stupid, “Babe, I fucking meant, like, cleaning up after yourself, cooking once in a while and hopping on my awesome dick. Well, it’s more of a bonus to be able to ride me whenever you please. I can make that pussy fucking churn, baby, you know it.”

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you simply hid away by smashing your face into Adam’s chest. His incredibly soft chest. Gliding his hands all over your body, Adam bend his neck to whisper into your ear,

“Sit down before the food gets cold.”

Sitting down, you let Adam fix you and him a plate. It all felt weirdly domestic.

Once you were finished, you put everything in the dishwasher while Adam made his way to the bedroom, to get dressed. You plopped down on the couch, twirling your thumbs basically. Sighing, you laid down on the couch. Adam entered the living room.

“What’s up? Stop looking all depressed and shit, we are bout to empty my fucking wallet. Aren’t woman happy to go shopping on a man’s hard earned dime?” Adam stood in-front of you, with his jacket in hand.

“I just..I can’t believe I’m homeless…..This is my biggest fear coming true. Oh my god….I’m homeless…” You covered your face with your hands and groaned loudly. You’re fucking homeless.

Adam scoffed at you, taking your hands into his own and taking them off your face.

“Baby, you’re living here now. We will put your last name on the fucking mailbox and whatever else you need. I will handle everything, sweet thing, don’t you fucking worry.” Adam grasped your knee into his hand now, shaking it slightly, “Cmon, get fucking up. I need you to lighten my wallet up.”

You stood up, nodding at Adam, “Okay, okay, let’s get going.”

Walking towards your jacket, you put it on, together with your worn out boots. Fall is a bitch and winter was even worse. Adam furrowed his brows at your clothes, he grabbed your jacket and felt your jacket lining.

“Jesus, this thin thing doesn’t do shit for you, and what the fuck’s up with your boots? Woman, we have to get you a whole new wardrobe.” He shook his head at you, like it’s your fault you’re broke.

Shopping with Adam played out as well as you thought. When Adam asked you which store you usually go to, and you said the thrift store he looked unhappy. He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you all across the mall.

Unsurprisingly, his favourite place was the underwear section. When you grabbed a multi pack of basic panties, Adam looked at you like you personally ruined his life with that decision.

This whole thing was tiring, you just wanted to lay down. At least Adam had the time of is life, sending you to the dressing room and getting to play dress up doll with you. Eh, at least he isn’t bitching at you, he complains about how woman sizes are not all standardised, how the stitching is shit and how it can be that they don’t have that top, in that colour, in a bigger size. He’s in his zone. He has you try on stuff in different colours, shapes, sizes and man he’s picky as fuck.

All you wanted was a few sweatshirts, one pair of jeans and some socks and underwear. In the end you got a new fucking closet, your make up items basically replaced with the expensive version of your drug store ones, shampoo and conditioner from brands you couldn’t even pronounce, and some sanitary products. Once Adam started looking at sundresses (summer is like 6 months away??) you put your foot down and told him you wanted to go home. You weren’t sure more bags would fit on his arms and in his hands anyways, since he refuses to let you touch anything.

Standing in line at the last checkout, Adam was preoccupied looking at bras. Telling him your bra size was probably a mistake. Letting him drag you to a lingerie store was the other mistake. You felt your phone vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans.

Pulling it out, it was a group chat call from your friends. Accepting the call, you held your phone against your ear,

“‘Yello?”

“What in Christs name is going on that you call up a storm in the middle of the night?”

You could barley understand a word, with 3 different people talking at once, but that was the gist of it.

“Uhh, nothing bad. Apartment burned down.”

“WHATTT???”

Before you could elaborate, you felt your phone being snatched out of your hand. Looking back, you saw Adam glare at your phone.

“If it isn’t the fucking Hexenzirkel!….Mind your own fucking business, everything here’s alright.” With that he hung up your phone and pocketed it. Great. Now that’s a fire you will have to put out later.

Adam herded you forward, towards a free register. He paid for everything, and then took you towards the parking garage where he left the car. Stacking everything in the backseat and trunk, you sat down at your seat. Adam got in, and he started driving home.

Calming your friends was sure a thing you had to pull off. Explaining to them what happened and why you live now with Adam, off all people, was sure something you did. With lots of interruptions. Monica and Dy both assured you that you could always crash at their apartment, in their guest room.

Well, they won’t be able to make you cum 3 times in the span of 20 minutes, so you were going to ride this out. Literally.

You already realised that living with Adam would include lots of sex. He kind of made it his mission to christen every room in his apartment. More than once.

So across a few weeks, he had you ride him on the couch, eating you out in the bathroom, bending you over the kitchen counter, having you suck his dick in the guest room and romantic missionary in his bedroom. And much more and more frequently. Trying out cock warming sadly didn’t go as well, Adam doesn’t have the self control for that, but tying him down on a chair did help with that. And it was hot as fuck.

What you didn’t take in account for was the domesticity of it all. Cooking with Adam, drying the dishes while he washes, watching shows and movies, talking about each others day at the end of the day, cuddling, sleeping in each others embrace, listening to Adam sing and play his guitar, his rambling about the girls his band and music he enjoys, showering together and washing each others hair, grocery shopping together. It’s all so soft, you didn’t really except it. It scares you.

Adam had a lot of bad qualities, like how he tries to give you a curfew, you have to change your phone password every week, you’re sure he has your phone location somehow (you really have to check your app and settings), he keeps making attempts of convincing you to quit your job, tries to dictate what you wear outside the house (all you wear rn are baggy clothes anyways, not because of Adam but because it’s cold af), he always asks you where you’re going and with who, for how long will you stay out? Should he come with you? Don’t worry, baby, he will give a lift and coincidentally stays there for as long as you. Right besides you. He hid away all the door keys?? He loves scaring you and he has a tendency to make your keys and phone disappear when you’re about to leave.

So yeah, privacy was non existent. But when your landlord sent you an email on how you should still pay rent?? Adam took your phone and told you he would take care of it and lo and behold, another email followed up saying that you don’t need to pay for shit. Who would have fucking thought. A few days after the fire you were allowed inside again, picking out whatever wasn’t fully destroyed. There wasn’t much, Adam came with you, and when you were close to crying again, he gave your head a kiss and bought you your favourite take out.

You’re pretty sure he’s trying to condition you to be dependent on him, since when he makes you cum he has a tendency to whisper to you about how you’d should cancel your lease, how you should quit (again) and how nice wouldn’t it be to be his little housewife? You’re happy you got the copper IUD, otherwise you would be pregnant right now. Since Adam is insatiable.

At the end of the day you get fed, get 8 hours of sleep and Adam tries to drive and pick you up wherever you want. So you have been throughly enjoying the past few weeks. The fact that you have to reassure your friends that you are fine and juggle Adam’s weird behaviour is just something you have to deal with.

You were close to falling asleep. Adam was laying on the couch, with you on his chest. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, while you buried your face into his neck. His one hand was under your shirt, his fingers traced heart shapes on your skin. You felt his heart thump through his chest, in a slow rhythm. The TV was playing in the background, some fucking Family Guy episode Adam picked out.

The lights started to flicker, faster and faster.

“What the fuck?” Adam sat up, looking around confused.

All the electronics were starting to go crazy, the TV switched between movies and shows, the microwave started going off, together with the fire alarm. You rubbed your eye, while yawning. Everything came to a hold when everything got shut off. You sat in the dark.

“..Huh?” Is all you could get out. Whats going on?

“Fucking fuck. Did a fucking fuse blow out on me?” Adam ushered you off his lap, you stretched your arms over your head.

“Did you forget to pay utilities? Happened to me once or twice.” You threw into the room.

Adam scoffed at that, “Did you forget or were you too broke? I pay my shit on time, don’t fucking worry about it. Fuck. I think the fuse box is out on the hallway.”

“..Both.” You made an attempt at going back to clinging to Adam, he was comfy and you were tired.

“Can’t get rid of you, huh?” He chuckled at you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you closer to him, “Need me to carry you to every fucking errand I need to run?”

You nodded at him, humming in agreement. Adam slipped his arm under your knees and the other under your shoulder, when he stood up he took you with him. Carrying you bridal style. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Don’t drop me! Ah! Adam!”

“Damn babe, usually you only scream my name like that when I make you cream all around me! Don’t stress yourself, you weigh nothing to me. Watch this.” Adam laughed at you, he spun you around in his arms. Then he proceeded to do squats. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. After that, the final round, he did bicep curls, using you as his weight.

“Drop me, gym bro.” You laughed at him.

“Yes, mam.” Adam suddenly let go off you for a second, or at least made it seem like that.

Your heart dropped, genuinely thinking that Adam let go off without warning. But he quickly caught you again, laughing at your screaming and horrified expression. He set you back on your feet, grinning at you.

“Chillax babe, as if I would ever drop ya.” He brushed your hair away from your face.

“Fuck off, asshole. How about we look for that fuse box? I don’t wanna live in a lightless apartment.” You hissed at him, swatting away his grabby hands. At least your eyes got adjusted to the dark.

Before Adam could answer, everything started to go crazy again. TV blaring, lights flickering, beeping and fucking sparks flying.

Adam yanked you down with him by your arm, you both were squatting behind the couch.

“Fucking hell?! What the fucks going on??”

A blazing, colourful tear appeared into the air, between the TV and couch. Man were you happy to have said couch as a shield. A high pitched tone sounded through the air, causing both you and Adam to grimace. Covering your ears, you squinted while trying to take a look at the weird slit. It was changing size and form and honestly, you weren’t too sure what you were looking at. So you just ducked behind the couch again, not wanting to know what actually was going on.

Then it just stopped. Everything was pitch black, taking a look out the window you saw that non of the lights in the other buildings were on anymore. Fucking power shut off.

“Let’s get fucking out of here befo-“ Adam started speaking, but was interrupted by a horrible sizzling sound. You were sure that the sound waves which vibrated through the air were touching your soul.

The tear appeared again, just this time in a circle form. Adam and you ducked behind the couch again, while the…thing moved and changed and screeched. It stopped. Again.

“Jesus Christ…” You whispered into the darkness, looking at Adam with big eyes.

“Uhm, fuck no, I’m not the J- Dog. I’m fucking Adam, you know? The first dick on fucking earth?”

??????

Adam and you looked at each other like you have just seen a ghost. You both shoot up from behind the couch at the same time.

What kind of creature appeared in the living room????

He’s very tall. Too tall. And big. His horns hit the ceiling, so he has to awkwardly slouch. What even is his face? Are those golden wings? How fucking big are they? Wingspan of over 9000? Whats that round thing over his head, a halo? With a weird ass robe. Oh my god. What’s even going on anymore?

“Fucking sick, you both can hide your wings and halo? How long did that take you to fucking master? A century or two?” The thing gave you both a once over, his gaze lingered on Adam’s face, but he just shook his head. A century? You weren’t even ready to continue living for another 10 years.

You reached your hand out, grasping Adam’s arm tightly. Adam’s muscles were tense and he seemed to grind his teeth, glaring at the unwanted guest. God help you.

“What? You two to fucking shocked seeing this big of a deal, huh? I totally get it. Want an autograph?”

“..We…Don’t need to….Hide our…Wings. Because we are…People…?” You decided on saying. It’s better if you speak and not Adam, since he looked close to blowing up.

The creature blinked at you, “Oh shit…Don’t fucking worry about this little incident, sugar tits, upstairs we got extra protocol for this.” He turned his huge back towards you and Adam, giving you a nice view of his glowy, golden wings.

Since your heart was starting to calm down, and you were able to think clear, the realisation creeped in that he kind sounded like Adam? Weird coincidence.

Adam’s face soured even more at the pet name, “Al-fucking-right, listen here, A-“

Grabbing Adam by the collar of his hoodie, you yanked him down. Placing your finger against your lips, to signal for him to shut up, you let him go again. It’s best if Adam does not start a fight with a whole ass angel.

Said Angel was snapping his fingers repeatedly. Each time he did, the electronics started going crazy again. All that appeared were sparks around his fingers, and where the tear was it sizzled slightly. Great.

“The fuck? Why isn’t this shit working?”

Adam crossed his arms infront of his chest, looking unhappier with every passing second. This won’t go well. You feel it in your soul.

The angel nervously threw a look over his shoulder, at you and Adam. As if any of this was your fault. Rolling your eyes, you bit your tongue.

“…You sure you’re a fucking angel?” Adam spoke into the tense atmosphere.

“Yes I’m fucking sure I’m an angel! Have some fucking respect, without me non of you fuckers could be frolicking right fucking now!”

And so it starts. While the two men threw insults at each other, you tried to breath through your panic. Taking a good look at the angel, not only did he have the same voice as Adam, his face reminds you off the masks Adam’s band wears whenever they perform. Maybe….

“Take off your mask.” You decided on telling the giant. All eyes were on you now.

“Woah, bossy. And here I fucking thought you were a well trained bitch, who knows not to interrupt when the men are speaking.” Alright, you hate that guy.

He hooked his fingers under, what was finally revealed as a mask, and slipped his face out of it. Even though his hair was a mess, one thing was clear. That was Adam.

It was uncanny to watch, you were uncomfortable. It clearly felt like that they weren’t supposed to be in the same room. The only difference between their faces was that this one didn’t have any piercings, and he looked to be in his thirties. Good to know that Adam still will look hot in like 10 years. DILF. The even have the same facial expressions, and reactions to each other.

“You supposed to be some shitty alternative version of me, or what?” Adam asked, his chin in his hands and head tilted.

“Fuck no, you dumbass didn’t listen to me? I’m fucking Adam, the first man? More like my genes are alive and well in you. Good to know.” He nodded at Adam.

“Are you sure? Because his name is also Adam, and he has two ex girlfriends named Lilith and Eve. Same break up as you had…….Are we in a Bible fan-fiction? Why does everyone I know have biblical names and a fitting background?” Is your whole life a lie??

The angel simply blinked at you, then his gaze shifted towards Adam. He chuckled nervously again, once again snapping his fingers. All it did was make sparks fly and mess further with the electricity, not just in this apartment but also with every other building outside.

“Fucking stop it, shit obviously isn’t working.” Adam dragged his hand over his face, obviously exhausted.

“Well, if you can travel through space just like that, what’s really stopping you from also going through time? We basically already know that alternative universes are a thing, if we think of both timelines as water streams, going at the same speed….or time?” You put your hands infront of each other, not touching having them touch, “You must have accidentally messed something up in your travels, causing you to fall out of your stream into ours…” Moving your right hand to bump it into your left one, you imaged the angel falling and tumbling into your world.

“…That’s so cool.” You whispered under your breath, the angels wings fluffed up, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking cool, babes.” He looked so proud of himself, as if he did it all on purpose. Idiot.

Adam glared at his doppelgänger, while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and yanking you into his side. He rubbed his chin against the top of your head, like an animal marking it’s territory. You were too far into your multiversal fantasies and connecting it to your physics classes, to notice the angle smugly grinning at Adam, as if he won that round. Weird macho behaviour, which you couldn’t care less for.

“What are we fucking supposed to do now?” Adam asked, carefully.

“..Is the couch free, bro?”

[redrandomposts]

till narrowly missing ivan in every universe, either literally or figuratively, makes me giggle and cry at the same time AUUHSHSJSH if he was a regressor/reincarnator and og/alnst!till was watching his later incarnations, mans would be bald from tearing his hair out in frustration

"LOOK BACK MF LOOK BACK, YOU JUST MISSED HIM"

"THATS NOT WHAT HE MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT"

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO HAVE YOUR NTH SEXUALITY CRISIS, IVAN IS MOVING AWAY TOMORROW. MOVE IT"

and imagine his previous incarnations from other failed lifetimes watching the current lifetime with him and theyre all in the same frustrated state 😭

"can we PLEASE have one lifetime where we dont end up breaking his heart ? can we PLEASE—"

— 🌦️

HAHAHAHAHA LMAOOOOO

doomed lovers and tills watching it all happen, kicking and screaming

everytime an incarnation pops up in their little hell, he is kicked and beaten up and treated as a less-than-human being until the next one meets ivan. and then they're too focused watching how till (yes, that's you, a dumbass) misses every smile and glimmer of eyes and heartbreak that ivan shows.

"what the fuck?! what's he doing?! ivan is right there, don't go hitting on her - fuck! who is that idiot!"

"that idiot is you! do you remember how you made ivan your best man at your wedding?!"

"says the one had an arranged marriage with him then went to war and came home in love with a nurse!"

"all of you are idiots!"

and none of the tills know og till's backstory. most of the time he's writing songs and playing the guitar, as all of them do, but in a more extreme way. there's a little library with all the songs the tills have made, each shelf a different life. og till's is a whole bookshelf, but the ones about ivan only starts after he first appeared here.

(there's also the songs each and every ivan has made about till, for till, to till. those are treated much better than the ones the tills haphazardly throws into their respective shelves. they're encased in gold and glass, just as unattainable as ivan seems to be.)

extra reactions according to some of my aus (except it's all the bad ends and ooc??):

omegaverse

"...what the fuck?"

"WHAT'S A PHEROMONE?! ALPHA? THAT'S SO CRINGEY? WTF"

"GUYS!!! IVAN CAN BE PREGNANT-"

"-SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-"

"holy fuck"

"it was indeed a fuck"

"did you know ivan could moa-"

"fucking hell we're all tills we're all here we all know!"

"BLOOD! GET A TISSUE YOU FREAK-"

"HALF OF US HAVE NOSEBLEEDS WDYM"

"please please please till hE IS PREGNANT-"

"..."

"what the fuck."

"HE'S DEAD?"

"guys i don't ever wanna get ivan pregnant if that's what's going to happen"

android au

"...he owns ivan..?"

"THAT'S NOT FAIR?? WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO DESERVE IVAN??"

"surely they fall in love, right?"

"don't fucking jinx it, you moron!"

"ivan's so cute... look! he's cutting the veggies into flowers!"

"hey! till! say thank you to ivan!!"

"ugh, can't he just get out the studio so i can see ivan??"

"till, can't you just be a stay at home musician?!"

"aww!! aren't those flowers in the stitching?"

"oh my god ivan hand sewed him clothes?!"

"that's not fair! ivan! you can't just give things to the idiot! or else!! ...or else."

"...you fucking jinxed it!!! ivan!!! you can't die!"

"how'd i know that they'd just shoot and never stop shooting?"

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM??"

"i'll fucking BEAT THEM UP I SWEAR."

"??? why's he only just checked the cameras now since he got ivan?"

"...ivan's voice is so heavenly."

"..."

zombie au

"is it another boring one? haven't we already seen till and ivan have normal lives and drift apart or something else?"

"maybe this time, till will..."

"shut UP! CROW'S MOUTH, I SWEAR"

"nevermind that is nOT NORMAL FUCK"

"OH MY GOD HE IS ROTTING AND MOVING??"

"IVAN GET AWAY FROM THERE -"

"...ivan?"

"FUCK! HE DID IT AGAIN!"

"TILL YOU FUCKER GO BACK FOR HIM!!"

"...at least we still have ivan."

"...and till knows he loves ivan."

"...and they kissed."

".....oh fucking hell, why are you so happy?! ivan's basically till's dog! till doesn't deserve him!"

"well, as long as they cure ivan, they'll be together for real, right?"

"..."

"YOU FUCKING JINXED IT-"

"WHY'D THAT RANDO JUST SHOOT IVAN???

mermaid au

"oh my god he's a fish -"

"- ivan looks like a prince!"

"??? how can you be so rude to ivan!"

"why are his thoughts so weird? ivan's a human, not some pearl! he has dignity!"

"he's much better than some pearl, too."

"till knows he loves ivan, right??? surely??? with those thoughts..."

"i wanna see ivan's eyes...."

"i wanna see ivan's smile..."

"fuck! till, just speak to him god damnit!"

"oh my god!!! ivan!!!"

"??? where's his fishy parts?? ow, don't hit me-"

"...he looks so fine."

"hey! he's sixteen! you are definitely not sixteen, you fucking homewrecker!!"

"homewrecker?! i didn't cheat!!"

"you wrecked your and ivan's house life!"

"what?"

"where'd the letter come from??"

"how's there sea foam???"

"IVANNNN!"

"HE'S DEAD? JUST LIKE THAT?"

"HE DESERVED MORE YOU FUCKER-"

===

anyways im going to edit my masterlist to be better ig

[nfr-girly]

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader // Jealousy 📚 🖼️

:: masterlist

Summary: Lately, you and Colin have been bonding over art and books, but what happens when a certain Bridgerton gets jealous?

————————————————————————

Benedict never took any interest into deciding to marry, with his family having a tradition to marry for love, not wealth, he had the freedom to focus on his art, without the pressure to find romance.

To him, romance was a burden that held you back from achieving many things, but lately, Benedict had second guessed all his thoughts on love.

For the past few weeks, ever since Colin found out you like to read, you two have been meeting continuously in the gardens to discuss your latest reads. At first, Benedict thought it was nice you and Colin were starting to bond, he was glad you had another bridgerton to confide in, alongside himself. But as days turned into weeks, Benedict felt a burn in his chest as he sees your interest slowly turn away from him, and towards his brother.

Benedict and you had met at an event, you both bonded of your shared liking of the arts, and although to many in the ton, your friendship may have seemed inappropriate, Violet bridgerton never thought for one second your friendship was wrong.

However, friendship seemed to be a heavy understatement to describe what you two had, neither of you would admit it, but you both knew some feelings were there. Your mother was very adamant on you marrying someone with a high status, like a viscount, or duke, which is why she never considered Benedict as a suitor. “He’s a lovely gentleman, but his status is too low, perhaps his brother the viscount would be a better suit for you?” She would say.

Oh but you wish she did approve him. Your feelings for Benedict never went away, every time he was near you felt planets away, just out of reach of something special.

So when the younger brother of Benedict, Colin came to you, taking an interest in your latest read, you didn’t hesitate to start discussing it with him.

You never once thought Benedict and you would ever happen, maybe some time with another bridgerton would help those feelings die down?

As weeks went by, you did miss Benedict, you felt bad you were starting to spend time with Colin more, but every time you and him made eye contact, the longing in your heart grew, and it needed to be contained.

Benedict missed you tremendously, he always tried to find a moment to talk to you, just to know even one thing about what you’ve been up to. But Colin would always steal you away.

What did you even see in Colin that you didn’t see in him? He would listen to you talk about books for hours, if it just meant you’d go back to him.

*at the bridgerton house*

You’re waiting for Colin in the library, looking through some books, when you see in the corner of your eye a tall figure

You turn your head to see Benedict, you haven’t seen or talked to him in a while, both of you freeze seeing one another.

“Benedict. I haven’t seen you for a while, how have you been?” You say to him slowly walking towards him, hoping to make conversation, instead he furiously strides towards you

“Why have you been ignoring me?” He asks with a stern face

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, you’ve spent almost a month going off with Colin talking about god knows what while I’m here missing you like some idiot” he’s mad now, he doesn’t understand why you have to ignore him to hang out with his brother

“I’m sorry, I’m sure we can arrange something-“

“Do you have any idea how much my heart has burned for you? You are the only thing I think about when I go to sleep, the only thing I think about when I wake up and you aren’t even there. I don’t know if I’ve done something but tell me so I can fix it. I’m tired of wishing you weren’t so far away.” Benedict comes to a stop, instantly regretting everything that just came out his mouth

“Do you really feel that way?” You ask, the warmth in you blossoms and that desire to be closer to him now grows

“Of course I have. I’ve felt it since the moment you spoke to me. I know your mother doesn’t want you to be with me, and maybe you don’t want to be with me either, but I won’t deny how I feel, you are the whole reason I breathe, every time you are near time stops and the only thing in the room is you. My mind goes insane because I can’t ignore the fact that I want you-“ before he can say anything else, you grab his shirt and pull him in to kiss him. He widens his eyes, but realising what’s going on, immediately kisses you back. He holds your cheeks to pull you in more. The whole room spins, the only thing you two care about in this moment is eachother.

You pull away and look into his eyes, so much desperation and desire painted across his face

”I’m sorry I’ve been away” you say softly

“It’s okay, you’re mine now, that’s all that matters” he laughs softly as he pulls you in for another kiss, harder than the last. Years of built up desire now let out, pulling the weight off of both your shoulders.

————————————————————————

a/n: it’s Benedict’s season soon 😝 I hope you guys enjoyed thisss! 🫶

[yogurtkags]

congrats on 100 followers, you totally deserve it :D ˚✧₊⁎ if it’s still opened.. could i request osamu x reader as culinary school rivals??

❝ COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS ❞ — miya osamu

cw. gn!reader, culinary school!au, rivals to friends, fluff, language (reader has a bit of a potty mouth), onigiri miya is a family business, there’s just a slight tension between them, not beta read. word count. ~ 1.6k

getting locked out of your dorm isn’t the worst thing that can happen, until you have to call in a favour from miya osamu, your literal nightmare— or a blessing in disguise?

event masterlist

this is so stupid and would’ve been completely avoidable if you just slept even a little bit last night instead of staying up experimenting before heading for your morning class.

with a huff of annoyance and bleary bloodshot eyes from sleep deprivation and rubbing them in a desperate hope of waking yourself up from a half-asleep half-dead state, you rummage through your bag for the overloaded carabiner one more time for good measure, you’ll never know if it was just hidden in a pocket that you missed— nope never mind, it’s not there.

“fuck me.” slamming your palm on the door, you rest your forehead on the smooth hardwood doors of your dorm entrance and sigh, just my fucking luck.

you can picture it crystal clear, all the ingredients you’ve neatly laid out on the kitchen counter ready for you to prepare a quick lunch, and that damned mason jar of bottled gold. you spent the whole of last night and the ones before perfecting it and now it sits just outside of your reach, like the gods above playing a sick trick on you— except there’s no trick, just you being stupid and forgetting to bring your keys out that landed yourself in this predicament.

your frustration is immeasurable, you need that for a class later in the afternoon that weighs a hefty amount on your grade and you can’t afford missing out on it, you’ve spent so much time on it after all and refuse to give in. all this is making you want to run your hands through your hair and harshly tug, hoping that the sting would rouse you from this bad dream.

no one’s in the dorms right now, everyone’s either in class or the library, and the sweet old dorm lady’s out and about sourcing for ingredients in town; it’s restock wednesday.

you’re ransacking your brain, mentally going through a list of people you could possibly engage for help, mumbling under your breath so the pathetic silence doesn’t swallow you whole. it’s quiet aside from the birds overhead, their constant chirping grating to your ears, almost like they’re mocking you.

“i don’t have cash on hand to pay a locksmith.”

“i could ask noya to try picking the lock, but knowing him it’s more likely that he’ll break it.”

"could maybe try asking ukai? but that geezer will probably say no just to fuck with me."

there's no one else around or remotely in the area other than— oh hell no. his family restaurant is just off campus and wouldn't take too long for you to get there and back to class later but just the thought of needing help from that guy sickens you to the pits of your stomach. but beggars can't be choosers, and the you of today chooses the only option that will secure you your grade.

your last option is unfortunately, miya osamu — next in line to run onigiri miya, mister “i’m going to be the best in the academy”, always trying to one-up you, stupid grey-haired baseball cap wearing bane of your existence.

the trek there thankfully isn’t too long since your dorm is closer to the edge of campus, and the little diner just a stone’s throw away from the road leading to the academy gates. the small shopping district is pretty quiet at this time of the day, most middle and public high school kids still having classes and the salary men slaving their lives away at their desks in air-conditioned offices.

before long, you’re standing in front of onigiri miya, the warm lights from inside the store seeping out through the whites of the sliding door. taking a deep breath and bracing yourself to face him, you raise your fist and knock to announce your arrival and gently pull it open.

“i have to say, you’re the last person i expected to see walk through those doors willingly. this better be good.”

osamu stands with his arms crossed, clad in his usual black tee and matching hat, waist apron printed with the logo crest of onigiri miya. his eyebrows are raised in faux surprise, almost teasing as he gives your figure an up down with his trademark lazy patronising smile.

you scoff, walking past him and straight to the counter seats, placing your bag on the light wooden surface, “don’t flatter yourself miya, i’m not here to see you.”

shaking his head and turning around, he heads behind the counter and leans forward, resting on his forearms, “yeah? why else would you be here then?”

he’s close, a little too close and you take a step back, placing your hand atop his head and pushing him away, face warming up in embarrassment, “shut up.”

with a sigh, your reluctantly murmur the next four words, “i need your help.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t quite hear you there, come again?” you desperately want to slap that shit eating grin off his equally handsome and annoying face, he definitely heard you and is messing with you, but what did you expect really?

raising your voice, you snarl, but the impact’s dulled with your inability to meet his eyes, “i said, i need your help, you little bitch.”

osamu chuckles, you’re cute. you must’ve been at your wits end to even bother coming to him for help.

he claps and rubs his hands together, “okay then, how can i be of service?”

you explain the situation at the expense of a few jabs and lighthearted insults from him, how so very childish. the plan is to recreate the concoction of a sauce that you made last night, current sitting in all its glory in the dorm’s kitchen, the same dorm that you’ve conveniently locked yourself out of. he agrees that it’s the most logical solution, seeing that you already know the proportions and just don’t have access to the ingredients, which he can provide his disposal at the restaurant.

he’s surprisingly focused and helpful, even with his provoking comments once in a while, studying your recipe and even making a few samples on the side with additions that he thinks might complement or enhance the flavour palate that you’re going for with your dish. you notice little things that you didn’t before— his tongue pokes out of his mouth when he’s in the zone, he furrows his eyebrows when processing a taste and the way his nose scrunches if it tastes a little odd.

as much as osamu’s existence pisses you off, you can’t deny that he’s good at what he does and completely justified in aiming for the top seat. he’s not arrogant, just extremely sure of himself and his abilities, a quality you wish you had in this competitively and highly individualistic field. what’s the point of someone having your back if you can’t have your own? some days, a little self-assurance goes a long way.

with a few last minute tweaks to your original proportions (courtesy of him), a new bottle of liquid gold sits in the palm of your hand, an even better version of what you had, if it was even possible.

nudging your shoulder with his, he looks over at you with an annoying smirk, “everyone say thank you osamu!”

“tch, shut up.” you roll your eyes, nudging him back with more force, enough to cause him to stumble over his feet as you bite back a laugh.

you eye the clock, there’s still plenty of time before your class begins and as you think about the lunch that you supposed to cook for yourself back at the dorms, your stomach lets out a series of gurgles, your face simultaneously flushing with embarrassment.

wordlessly, osamu begins whipping up something in the kitchen, a fresh fragrance hitting your senses and filling the air. as much as you hate to deny it, your mouth waters in anticipation and you bashfully shuffle behind him to peek at what he’s doing.

he just glances at you over his shoulder and juts his chin out in the direction of the counter seats, “sit down, i’m making you something to eat.”

raising your nose in mock defiance, you scoff, “who said i was staying for lunch?”

he just shoos you away with the wave of his hand and a mischievous glint in his eyes, “just let me make you something that’ll make you say it’s delicious, trust me.”

it’s been a running thing between the two of you since you met in a class and demanded to try his food after his grand declaration of being the top. you’re both prodigies in your own right, and you just wanted to see if the man could deliver as he spoke. don’t get it wrong, his dish was absolutely divine and brought you back to memories of your childhood home and running around in the backyard with dirt covered sandals chasing dragonflies, but you refused to admit that there was someone up to par, barely choking out an unconvincing, “tastes like shit.” before shoving your dish in his face.

it’s no different this time, and you’re unsure if it’s because of the calm and humble atmosphere of onigiri miya, the domesticity of watching him cook in the comfort of his home kitchen, or just how hungry you are, but all it takes is one bite before you start unabashedly scarfing down his delicious creation.

if he’s smug about it he doesn’t show it, choosing to savour the rare peace and quiet of non-bickering, but silently knowing that perhaps he has won this time. wiping the sweat off his brow, he leans against the staff doorway and watches you eat with a soft smile, munching on his own onigiri.

“hey, wanna walk to campus together?”

notes. wyr !! always a pleasure seeing you in my notifs !! ALSO CAN I JUST SAY, THE WAY I INTERNALLY SCREAMED WHEN I SAW YOUR REQUEST !! my mind went straight to food wars and this is heavily inspired by that < 3

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[lavendermunson]

burning desire - eddie munson

summary Bad luck follows you everywhere, but thank god you have professor Eddie to make your days better even if it's a halloween party.

tags +18 professor!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is in his late 30's and reader is on her early 20s) everything is consensual. mutual pinning, alcohol, reader gets a cut from a glass on the floor but nothing to worry about. no use of y/n. MINORS DNI PLEASE, spanking, fingering, daddy kink, cum eating, orgasm denial if you squint. slight dom!Eddie, sub and virgin afab!reader. size kink. if i missed anything tell me

w.c 3.2k

a/n yes i spiraled, yes im projecting because i got reader the same costume i had and yes i went nuts enjoy!

You’ve finally stopped making a fool of yourself in front of him.

The first embarrassing incident happened when you smacked your arm against the classroom door because you were too distracted looking at him, waving your hand goodbye. Little did you know that the door would slam into your arm, courtesy of some basketball jock making a speedy escape to join his friends.

On that day a little whimper escaped from your lips, immediately grabbing his attention. He’d been watching you closely since the start of the semester, always finding excuses for you to stay after class, just to be close to you and look at you, admiring your features and getting lost in your cleavage. That time was the perfect opportunity for him to finally touch you.

“Oh… no, c’mere,” he said with a softness in his voice that he always uses when he talks to you. You got closer, allowing him to take your arm with his large, warm hand and gently massage the pain away trying to comfort you. “I’ll make sure that guy fails his final, don’t worry” he reassured with a wink, causing your hands to nervously fall into your lap as both of you leaned on the wood of his desk.

The attention from him felt good, and well, he was so handsome. Even if he did have a couple of years on you, he possessed a boyish look, his youthful charm was intact, and his curly hair glows every day you see him. And those rings adorning his fingers, his ring finger still missing one, you always knew he was single, all the other teachers always tried to flirt with him in the hallways.

“No, it’s my fault. I got distracted” you whispered. As if you were doing something wrong, he is only here to help.

His brows meet at the center of his face, a frown showing on his forehead.

“Don’t blame yourself, it’s not your fault sweetheart” His fingers slid from your arm to your hands, he took your hands with his. A tingling sensation ran up your thighs as his fingers brushed against the exposed skin beneath your skirt. “There you go, feeling better?”

All you could manage to do was nod, pulling away. Your mind was racing with impure thoughts, and your cheeks were growing warmer and warmer each time. 

“Yes, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Be careful!” he says, with his gaze still glued at you.

That’s how you left his classroom that day, and the next day, you decided to skip his class. It was too much for you, even if it felt so good and it was so wrong, so unprofessional from both sides as the sexual tension grew each time you two talked.

The second time you show your clumsy self is at the library, you are searching for books to prepare for an essay. Suddenly a book fell and landed just right on your head.

“Ouch,” you muttered, dropping to your knees to pick up the book. But as you reached for it, you heard a chuckle.

“Sweetheart, what happened this time?” His grin was even bigger than the last time, his hands resting on his pockets only showing his big watch on his wrist. It’s shiny, expensive, and squeezed around so perfectly matching his imposing figure. “I did warn you to be more careful”

You looked up, meeting his beautiful brown eyes. You felt a blush wash over your face, head resting on your pretty pink cheeks. He was so close, his scent hugging you in an instant.

“You look so, so pretty on your knees”

That was all it took. You swallowed hard, your core aching, desperately looking for a place to sit to relieve the tension.

“It’s like I always come to rescue you. Not that I don’t love it but you have to agree, I have a sixth sense when it comes to you”

He picked up the book and handed it to you. You took it, still on the floor with barely any space between you and Eddie. He extended a hand to help you up, and as you got up, he wrapped his arm around your wrist, pulling you closer. 

“Thank you, Mr. Munson,” you can only get lost in his big brown eyes, you glance at his lips and back to lock your gaze on his. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Eddie?”

“I-it feels wrong” you replied, frozen in your place. Your shoulders are too tense and your breath growing quicker.

“It’s not wrong, especially when it feels so good” He turned you around, his hand that had rested on your waist now on your shoulder, along with his other hand pushing your hair out of the way. Getting a look at your neck, and your sweet vanilla perfume makes him relax. “I hope to see you tomorrow. Don’t you dare skip my class again,” he whispered in your ear, trailing his fingers along your neck before fixing the strap of your dress that fell off your shoulder and walking away. Leaving with a teasing smile you only noticed when you turned around quickly.

And that brings you to the third time, not expecting what your night would look like but definitely thanking your clumsiness for it.

You had arrived at a massive Halloween party in a house borrowed by your friend’s boyfriend for the night, while his sister was away on her honeymoon. She must be having the best time of her life at the same time her home is invaded by college drunks and some people from the neighborhood, looking for someplace to ruin on this spooky night.

People were dancing, drinking, playing, and kissing. There were some people at the pool and the house was a mess. Broken alcohol bottles are broken everywhere, and your shiny red shoes stomp on them to crush them even more.

Of course, you had chosen to wear a sexy outfit, embodying none other than Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. You had a short, sexy bly and white plaid dress, with a fluffy white skirt underneath for added volume. Your ponytails sat on your shoulders, adorned with red lace. 

The alcohol in your veins gave you a boost of confidence as you danced and attracted the attention of guys. Your mind was no longer fixated on Eddie, and you were enjoying the distractions. 

However, the spinning on the dance floor left you feeling dizzy, and you eventually looked for a place to sit down on the stairs. When your leg brushed against the stairs a piece of glass left a scratch, and you cursed under your breath. The pain shot through you, and a tear of frustration rolled down your cheek.

Trying to find a bathroom available to clean yourself up, your head started to hurt. A tear of desperation runs down your cheek and as the hosts scream at everyone to get outside for a drinking contest by the pool, the first floor of the house seems to be empty.

You get annoyed, trying to find a drink when someone gets closer to you. He is dressed as Zorro with a mask and a hat that hides his face, but if you weren’t too obsessed with him you might’ve thought he was a stranger.

“Sweetheart, what happened now?”

He looks at your pouty lips. His fingers gently touch your chin. 

“I, uh, cut my leg, and it kind of hurts. Everyone is busy fucking, so I couldn’t find a room or a bathroom to clean it and…“ You slur your words, desperation showing in the way you try to keep yourself together.

“I have a first aid kit at my place. Let me take care of you”

He notices the pout on your lips that never seemed to fade and takes your hand, squeezing it to give you comfort. “My place is just across the street. Come with me.”

“You live in one of these huge houses all by yourself?”

He chuckles, a grin showing on his lips. Half of his face still remains covered “Yes, but tonight, I won’t be alone”

You follow him, crossing the street and entering his house. The alcohol has now left your body and you become aware of your surroundings. Yet, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, it still feels wrong but his house hugs you welcome like a warm hug. You go up to his room and stay there, close to his bed while he goes to the bathroom to find the first aid kit.

When he returns, his hat and mask are missing. Letting his face show all his glory… and that grin he always has when you are around. Your hands shake, you get nervous because of him, and you know that if he touches you again, you won’t be able to walk away from him.

He sits on his bed and gestures for you to come closer. Your mind instantly tells you to sit as close as possible to him.

“I can’t see your cut like that, lay on me and I’ll help you”

You obey. Because it’s so easy and so exciting to follow his voice. You lay on top of his lap, your cheek touching his sheets as you feel his thighs under you. You try to relax your body even when lust washes over you.

“May I start touching you now? He asks. “To get this cut clean and put a band-aid”

You nodded. “You… yes, do what you need to do Eddie ” And you only hope he takes it as a yes, touch me all you want. Not even your filthiest dreams could make this scenario possible.

He laughs, taking it as an invitation to touch you however he pleases. Noticing you took his word and called him by his first name, finally.

“Don’t move, I’ll be gentle with you”

He is. His fingers grazed your leg as he cleaned the cut an inch below your ass, so there was no need to adjust your dress. The cold sensation of the alcohol-soaked gauze makes you jump a little, and you close your eyes, letting out a soft whimper.

“Sorry, sorry. Almost finished” He says, continuing to clean the cut, listening to your honey-covered whimpers. “Sweetheart, I told you to be more careful, but I'd hate it if anyone else took care of you but me. I told you I have a sixth sense”

“You do… thank you” you reply, your voice muffled. Trying to keep the side of your head pressed against his sheets, looking for the cold parts to ease your flushed face and the heat that stayed on it.

“I’m done,” he says, after placing a band-aid on the cut and giving your leg a soft squeeze.

“Can I stay like this for a moment?” you ask, not wanting him to see your flushed cheeks. You feel comfortable around him, especially when he starts to take care of you.

“Absolutely, anything you want”

He continues to caress your legs, inching closer and closer to your ass. His cold rings send shivers through your body, and the ache between your legs doesn’t seem to fade away.

“I saw you dancing with those guys. I have to admit I got jealous” he confessed.

“Did you?” you ask.

“Yes. I think about you all the time, it doesn’t help when you get close to me and I have to control myself” Somehow the room feels hotter, the side of his sheets where you rest didn’t cool down. “I should be the one dancing with my body pressed to you”

“I-I like it when you get close to me. Just you.” your voice becomes softer, while you feel out of breath. You can’t help but feel needy, his hands on your legs torture you in a sweet way. “Yes. I’m sorry”

“Oh? you feel sorry. Sweetheart, maybe you need to learn a lesson so that can’t happen again”

“Yes. Maybe I need to be punished” Your heart beats faster this time, hoping you didn’t kill the mood and he feels the same way about you.

Eddie’s lips form the widest grin he’s ever had. “I think you do”

One of his hands moves your dress away to reveal your ass. Your pretty pink cotton panties rest on you, and he swears he is in heaven. His other hand comes to rest in your ass and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I need you to count baby. If you miss a number I’ll start over... Can you do that f'me”

His voice grows sexier, and your excitement makes you sigh, letting all the air trapped in your lungs. The nerves go away, your body yearns for his touch now more than ever.

“Yes, yes I can. I’ll be good”

His hand leaves your ass, and you miss the warmth of his touch. He takes a few seconds after smacking his hands against your skin. It doesn’t hurt, but it stung in a way that felt so good. 

“I didn't hear you, sweetheart”

You shake your head, regaining focus. The wetness pooling between your legs. “One” you mutter, your fingers graze his soft sheets.

“Good, good girl”

He smacks your buttcheek again “Two” then, “Three” By the time it comes to five, you can’t hold back a moan and Eddie’s cock twitches on his pants.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds, don’t hide them from me, baby”

“Six.. seven… eight” you breathe out, shutting your eyes as the burning feeling grows.

“I think that’s enough. You’ve learned” His fingers caress the pink mark on your skin, a handprint slowly inked on it. “You okay?”

You nod. Eddie’s fingers travel up to your waist, helping you twist your body so you can sit on his lap. Your gaze locks on his, he takes your jaw over his big hand, slowly rubbing your cheek.

“Can I kiss you? Please” you say, eyes glassy from before. He couldn’t help but melt, you looked so adorable and he didn’t want this night to end.

“Sweet, pretty and polite. You are such a dream, baby”

He kisses you, one of his hands now resting on the small of your back to hold you in place, and his other hand finds your thighs. Your lips are as soft as he imagined, your cherry chapstick mixed with the taste of beer sent tingles to his hard cock. 

“Can I?” he whispers over your lips as he motions his head to your legs waiting for your consent.

“Please” you whine.

“Use your words, sweetheart” he waits for your answer, his heart thumps faster than ever.

“Touch me, touch me, daddy, please please”

He takes his nickname as a surprise, something he has never been called before but felt so good.

“You look so cute when you beg, good girl”

His fingers easily open your legs after you were clenching around nothing, rubbing your thighs to search for some kind of relief. His fingers get close to your core, you moan as he touches the wet patch between your legs and bites your bottom lip in the middle of the kiss.

“Touch me, touch me” you cry, he knows you are already so putty on his arms and wants to tease a little bit more.

“Someone is needy,” he chuckles. “Easy, easy baby”

His hands travel up to get the waistband of your panties, ripping them apart with his strong hand. The elastic bumps against your skin and once they are broken they fall to the floor. You moan again, clenching around nothing and begging him to touch you.

“Have you ever…”

“No” you shake your head, your lips forming a pout.

“Do you want to? Trust me, I'm going to take care of you. I always do”

“I trust you” you whine, begging him to do something about it. “I want to”

His hand comes to your pussy. He collects your wetness with his fingers and goes up up up until he reaches your clit. He applies pressure on it and you close your eyes, his middle finger massaging your little bundle of nerves getting more breathy moans from you. 

“How does that feel?” he asks, knowing your head is all over the place as your body fills with pleasure.

“Good… I need more” you manage to whisper, begging for something more to ease the burning feeling in your core. “Please, daddy”

He replaces his index finger with his thumb, and then his point fingers massage and tease your hole as you bite your lip in anticipation. He feels you relax on his arm and can no longer hold you, he moves your body so your back gets pressed against his chest. Your ass touches his hardened cock and you rock your hips involuntarily with two fingers already inside you.

“Pretty baby, so wet for me”

Eddie tempts the skin on your neck leaving wet kisses. He tastes your perfume and your sweat all mixed together, he moans against your skin and decides to suck on the delicate skin knowing that it’s going to leave a mark.

“There, so anyone can see who you belong to. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, yes. Mark me please”

He continues to nibble on your skin while his digits feel softer as he pulls in and out of you, you chant his name like a prayer and can feel your back aching. Missing the pressing on his chest, he focuses on the way you rub against his dick.

“You look so fucking hot, taking my fingers so well baby”

His praise only gets you even more wet. You clench around his fingers and he decides to add a third one.

“Stretching out so nicely, baby. Can’t wait for you to feel my cock, I don’t think it will fit right away”

You imagine his big cock as the third digit bumps into your walls, he curls his fingers inside you hitting the right spot.

“Daddy, please… I’m need to-”

“I know baby, you need to cum but hold it for me. You can do it, you are doing it so well sweetheart”

Eddie quickened his pace, no longer being gentle with your pussy. He moves his fingers in and out faster, the massage on your clit as his thumb presses slightly harder against it.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy. Let me cum please please please- Oh” you feel your legs tremble, your tummy can hold it anymore but you try so hard. Eddie notices the change in your voice.

“Okay, baby, cum now. Make a mess on my fingers, soak them, baby”

You cum hard, the first time doing it and you can’t seem to stop. Eddie keeps his hands glued to you, he feels your cum soak his fingers as he pulls them out, he moans at the sight of the mess you made. A wave of hot air hits your cheeks, his thumb rubbing your clit as you come back from your climax.

“That felt so good” you turn your body to face him, his fingers resting on his tongue as he sucks his fingers clean and moans at the sweet taste of you. You bite your lip, noticing his lips covered in your juices along with his spit.

“You did so good, and good girls get a reward” 

“I want one. I need you, don’t let me go” you beg.

“Oh baby, I'm never letting you go” 

He kisses you again, carrying you over to the top of his bed. Your back hits the sheets and he climbs over you.

“I got you, baby, I got you”

my kinktober piece for you i hope you love it, feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! ♡