#just the one math meme where it’s Liam trying to figure out what the hell he is
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Theo Raeken
Child of ??? - (not a warlock) - (not a goat guy [already checked]) - Some Guy that “Knows Things”
Well, his legs aren’t covered in tangles of fur like how Stiles described Satyrs, and he keeps snapping at him that he’s “not a witch,” but this guy has to be something, right? You don’t just fight a massive dog-bear monster thing and get away without losing your head. However, in the depths of the night and in the center of a absolute downpour, Liam can’t actually be sure if any magic was at play. He didn’t see any flash of metal or the sound of a weapon hitting it’s mark, but how could some human see - let alone hold their own against a mythical brutal monster.
A Teen Wolf x PJO au I’m working on - See You There, in the Storm
#See you there in the storm#wip fic#so he’s not a witch then what is he?#just the one math meme where it’s Liam trying to figure out what the hell he is#skull tattoo#SYTITS#thoughts aloud#teen wolf au#teen wolf x pjo au#teen wolf x pjo#tw fic#theo raeken#theo teen wolf#theo raeken moodboard#teen wolf moodboard#teen wolf#Percy Jackson au#pjo
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Here (Chapter 9: diction & crossfaded)
Story Index | 1DFF Louis didn’t show up to class today. This shouldn’t concern me as much as it does, but he hasn’t missed a class since school started. After Professor McGonagall (yes, I know her name, but... I’m petty) nearly cut his head off for being late on the first day, he hasn’t even been tardy. I texted him in the middle of lecture, which definitely isn’t like me, but I wanted to know where he was. I still haven’t gotten a reply, which is also out of character for him. I’ve noticed that he’s usually quick to respond to me in particular (but then again, he’s on his phone 24/7). Professor McGonagall’s mouth is moving but her words aren’t processing at all. Louis’ absence is enough of a distraction for me during class, but once my mind wanders to what I have planned tonight… well. I may as well have missed class like he did. Although I already agreed to having a threesome with Niall and Carmen tonight, I know it’s not too late for me to back out. Of course it would be best for me to be honest with them about my conflicted feelings, but knowing me, I would probably just say I started my period. That would buy me some time to rethink my decision. At the same time though, I can’t deny my desire with participating in something so… forbidden. It’s honestly quite exciting, and simply imagining the possibilities makes me clench my thighs closer together. The fact that they’re interested in me to do something like this with them is already a big deal. I’ve accepted my attraction for Carmen, and again, I can’t deny that Niall has made me feel some sort of way too. Reading about sexual fluidity for my Gender Studies class has me more confused than ever. I can’t stand not knowing the answer to something so important, so maybe something like this will help me figure it out. *** My first day at work is the perfect distraction that I desperately needed. This morning, I thought I was set on doin’ the nasty with Niall and Carmen. But all it took was me struggling for half an hour trying to find a somewhat sexy outfit, and I second guessed my decision. Do they actually find me attractive? Or am I just a perfect candidate to fulfill one of their fantasies? These thoughts legitimately made my head ache, so I took a nap before my shift. It kind of helped (despite my odd dream about Niall sitting in a cardboard box and continuously saying, “Just chillin’ out me box.”) Now I’m just here in the library, twiddling my thumbs and waiting because I’m here a lot earlier than necessary. Finally, I’m approached by an older man, “Hello. You must be…” He adjusts his glasses while squinting at his clipboard, “Ariana. I’m your manager, Boris.” I try to not cringe at my mispronunciation of my name as “air-ee-anne-nuh” and not “are-ee-on-uh,” and the fact that my manager’s name is legitimately Boris. I know I should’ve politely corrected my name, but I missed the chance when he carried on with going over my work responsibilities. His voice is monotone and dry, so I have to put in extra effort to actively listen to him. I didn’t think I would ever say this, but I’ve never been so happy to see Harry in my life when I spotted his notably tall figure. Boris says, “Ah, there’s one of your shift leads. Hello Harry, so nice to see you.” Is it? Is it really nice to see him, Boris? “This is Ariana, she’s new.” “You mean Ariana, Boris,” Harry politely corrects, while maintaining his charm with an easy chuckle. Must be nice. “We’re met before. In fact, we actually studied together yesterday.” He has a friendly grin when he hugs me, while I’m caught off guard at the sudden gesture. Harry tells our manager that a student is waiting to be helped, so I’m finally free of Boris’ dullness. Okay, maybe I’m being a little mean since he’s probably a nice guy. I’m close to falling asleep standing up though, and that wouldn’t set the best impression. “Um… sorry no other English tutor is free right now. From what I know, it’s nothing too hard,” Harry attempts to assure, even though I feel like I’m having a heart attack from my lack of direction. It’s my first job and I have no idea what I’m doing. Awesome. “Just answer the student’s questions, and make sure you stay in your time frame. Your student has half an hour.” I open my mouth to ask a question (read: or ten), but Harry leaves to help his significantly longer line of students needing help with math. Letting out a deep sigh, I nervously open the door to the reserved room with a student waiting. It certainly helps that this girl student is likely a first year, who looks just as shy as I am. I clear my throat and project my best impression of “confidence (whatever the hell that is),” “Hi there! My name is Ariana, what do you need help with?” My voice is a lot louder than I intended, so it makes her jump. “I… um. Do you mind revising my essay?” she asks in a small voice before hastily adding, “Oh and… some feedback with my ideas too?” I easily nod and throw (what I hope is) a comforting smile. Proofreading has always come naturally to me, which is why I usually don’t mind when my friends ask me to revise their essays. To be honest, I’m guilty of choosing to help them in order to put off my own homework; it just doesn’t feel like work to me. After getting through the first page of this essay about African American writer and civil rights activist Audre Lorde, my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. I don’t allow it to break my concentration, until the sporadic buzzing becomes more audible. Although I can easily get away with checking it since no supervisor is with me, I want to stay focused on helping this student since we’re tight on time. But damn, whoever is texting me must need me to bail them out of jail or is in labor. Maybe even both. (Or it’s probably just my group chat with Liam, Zayn, and Monique. Sometimes, they have stupid ass meme battles I never partake in. I view the text thread just so to get rid of the notification of 37 texts.) “You can answer that, if you want,” the first year speaks up first. “No no, I’m working. Sorry about that,” I apologize, my ears flaming in embarrassment. Running my hands through my mess of curls, I manage to tune out the vibrations and continue revising. All of my friends tend to have the same horrified reaction when they see how much I’ve scribbled on their paper. I guess I can’t blame them. Each essay I’ve revised is splattered with red ink everywhere, as though all their hard work is nothing but a messy war zone. This is definitely the same case with this student. “Don’t worry, it’s not a bad paper. I’m just a tough grader so you can be prepared for your professor,” I reassure, but this doesn’t really change her bewildered expression. While I explain my revisions so far and provide constructive criticism, in the corner of my eye, I see frantic movement through the glass of my office. I glance over and my eyes bulge out of their sockets when I see Louis Tomlinson, obnoxiously waving his arms. What in the world?! I can’t hear anything he’s babbling, so it’s like watching the Pokemon Mr. Mime on a silent film. Although it’s hard to resist my amused grin, I try to decipher what the hell he’s saying. My tilted head and wrinkled brows in confusion clearly shows that I’m failing, so Louis rolls his eyes and points to his phone. I huff in annoyance, holding my hand up so he can just hold the fuck up. This boy’s impatience will be the death of me. “I’m so sorry about that, um… what was I saying?” She squeaks, “It’s fine. I don’t mind waiting here until you’re done talking to your boyfriend.” My lips purse, because why do people always have to assume that a boy a girl is talking to is her boyfriend? And God, why do people assume everyone is heterosexual? Zayn crosses my mind for a moment because the same thing happened with us. Wow, we still haven’t talked since then… this may have been the longest we’ve gone without talking. I quickly shake my head and insist, “He’s not my -” “You know when your phone buzzes, it means I’m trying to talk to you, right?” My eyes narrow at the very rude interruption that decided to just burst into my work, like he owns the damn place. Although, it is a relief to know that he’s alive and kickin’ despite missing his first class without telling me. A growl erupts from my lips. “You know when I don’t answer, it means that I’m busy, right?” Louis simply shrugs while cracking an amused smile. “I’ll just wait here till you’re done then.” I roll my eyes and don’t argue, because I’ve already wasted enough time. As I attempt to divert my attention back to the essay, I overhear Louis trying to start conversation with the timid student. It’s kind of sweet that he’s really trying, despite her not-so-good social skills, and how it doesn’t take long for her to ease into talking with Louis. For a second, my pen freezes with correcting grammar because I realize that that’s Louis and me in a nutshell. But clearly, he’s just an outgoing guy to everyone. I’m not anything special. My heart sinks a bit. I carry on with revising, until I hear him call out, “Grande?” Lifting my head, I simply raise my eyebrows in acknowledgement. He blinks a couple times before licking his lips and looking down on his lap. “I’ll tell you later. Sorry.” “I’m…” I begin, feeling a little bad because he did go out of his way to see me. “I’m almost done, okay? Let me just finish this up, Lou.” His face lights up and I try my hardest to not smile - his happiness is so damn infectious. I hate it sometimes. When I resume giving my feedback to the student, who looks more out of place than ever, I feel Louis’ eyes on me the entire time. This makes my cheeks redden and my words to stumble out of my mouth clumsily. It’s no secret that Louis makes me nervous, but why is the simple action of him looking at me making me feel this way? “Any questions?” I manage, despite my anxiety starting to go haywire with everything running through my mind. She shakes her head and thanks me before rushing out the door. Listen girl, I feel you. But at least you can run away, unlike me. Before Louis can say anything, I blurt out, “Why weren’t you in class today? And why didn’t you text me back?” His bright blue eyes widen a bit, shocked at my outburst. But then he grins, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “You worried about me, Grande?” “N-no, I just…” I hastily defend before huffing out in frustration when his amused expression doesn’t falter, “You should’ve told me. We’re partners.” In our project, I mean. Not like, sexual or anything… Oh my goodness, anyway. Louis’ tone softens, “I know, I’m sorry. I pulled an all nighter working on my essay. Not even sure what time it was when I knocked out, but I slept throughout our class.” My eyes fall to my feet, feeling a bit guilty for assuming the worst. I should’ve remembered how stressed he was yesterday at the library. But of course I didn’t, Niall was too damn distracting. Oh God, that just reminded me that I’m having a damn threesome in a couple hours. “And for the record, I did text back,” Louis adds before puffing his lips out into a pout, “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.” I roll my eyes, ignoring how adorable that kind of was, “I’m working, Louis. Literally, as we speak.” “Yeah yeah, whatever,” he waves me off nonchalantly, “I just wanna know what I missed today.” I hand him my notebook from my backpack. While he takes pictures of my notes, I let my pride down for a second and mumble, “Are you… are you okay? From staying up? Do you want me to look over your essay or anything?” Louis’ movements halt for a beat before he looks up at me, his cheeks spread in a beam, “I’m okay, thanks Grande. I already turned it in, but can I take you up on that offer next time?” “Meh. Maybe,” I shrug, but he knows that I probably will. “All right, I should really get back to work. It’s my first day, I really don’t wanna mess this up.” “You? Never.” *** “Pen for your thoughts?” I blink, my deep thoughts interrupted by Harry walking into the break room. He legitimately hands me a pen (UCLA branded, of course), which makes me snort at his (somewhat impressive) pun. When he takes the seat in front of me, Harry takes a sip of his tea - looking a lot like one of my aunts who lives for drama. Nervously looking around as though this empty room is filled with people, I hesitate before finally giving in, “I’m… I’m a little stuck with something.” A second opinion shouldn’t hurt, right? Harry seems like a nice guy. “Do tell,” he murmurs against his mug as he sips again, leaning in closer in interest. At first I snicker, but then my face falls. How can I forget that - hello - Harry is Louis’ best friend and Niall’s frat brother. I can’t tell him about how I’m nervous about my fucking threesome with Niall and Carmen! Shit. “I-I don’t know if I should, uh...” I stutter a bit, but Harry waits patiently, his chin resting on his palm. He really does look like one of my gossiping aunties. “take… swing dance classes. Tonight.” Oh Jesus Christ, that is what I come up with? I guess it’ll do (even though I would never, ever take any sort of dance class - let alone for fucking swing). Harry blinks, seemingly disappointed at the anti-climatic tea I spilled, “Oh. That’s it?” “Like, okay. I want to try it, don’t get me wrong,” I begin to vent easily, my conflicted thoughts spilling out of me, “It sounds fun and exciting but… what if I’m not ready to do something like that?” Harry’s brows furrow as he slowly nods, “I take it you’re not that much of a dancer?” “No. Definitely not. I’ve only, uh, taken Zumba classes,” I attempt, really trying to get some genuine advice from him, “I’m comfortable with Zumba, I’ve never tried… any other dance classes.” I’m surprised how well I’ve been keeping this up. “Hm. Well, you shouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Even if it might be too late to cancel,” he advises while casually drinking more of his tea, “But then again, you never know if you’ll like swing dancing until you try.” My shoulders relax a bit, impressed by how his feedback actually applies to my situation. Even though his thoughts aren’t really anything new, hearing it from an outside perspective is enough affirmation for me. Harry continues, “Are you going with a friend or?” I pause for a moment. “Um. Yes?” I mean, I guess Niall and Carmen are my friends. “That’s good. If you’ll be with people you trust, they’ll help you have a good time if you’re nervous.” I can’t help but snort at the relevance. “You’ll be fine. Just make sure you stretch and be prepared to move your body in ways you didn’t think it could.” I bust up laughing at the innuendo he is completely clueless about, and receive a strange look from Harry in response. “We’re still talking about swing dancing, right?” *** I’ve been standing in front of Carmen’s dorm for ten minutes, my hand hovering over the door in hesitance. My nerves are taking a toll on me, to the point that I’ve lost track over how many times I’ve rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. I can only hope that this shirt doesn’t show my sweat circles under my armpits. (I know, so sexy.) Although it took my entire closet exploding in my dorm, I was able to find a pretty good outfit. The best I can do, at least. I’m wearing a white over the shoulder, long sleeved crop top with a matching choker (which was probably on sale when I bought it years ago, but whatever). Monique sent me the 100 emoji when I Snapchatted her, so that’s got to mean something. Because I have no matching sets of lingerie, I figured that the next best thing would be to match colors. Although this strapless nude bra is uncomfortable and probably a cup too small (Victoria’s Secret employees would have my head, I know), I believe it’s pretty hot! Same with my nude panties (that may or may not be a couple shades off). Does it really matter though? It’s coming off anyway. Before I can consider (for the thousandth time) to retreat back to my dorm and hide under my covers for the rest of my life, my fist finally knocks on the door. It opens painstakingly slow, and I’m welcomed by a slow drawl, “Hiiii Ariiiii…” My jaw drops a bit when I take in Carmen’s appearance. Don’t get me wrong, I believe this beauty is one of those people who can look stunning no matter what. I just wasn’t expecting her to look so… comfortable? Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, strands of hair freely falling and baby hairs curling up at her temples. She’s rocking an oversized shirt and basketball shorts, which makes me feel terribly overdressed. This look isn’t a bad thing at all; I just wish I got the memo, damn it. “Hey Carmen,” I begin, until I notice her bloodshot eyes. “Um… you okay?” A lazy smile spreads across her cheeks while she nods her head, her bun cutely bopping along with her movements. Things make a lot more sense when the strong stench of marijuana fills my nostrils once I walk in. “Ariana!” I almost fall over in surprise when Niall practically tackles me into a hug. He’s also dressed rather comfortably, which is irritating because he also looks damn good with no effort. Stupid snapback hat, shirt with cut off sleeves, and gray joggers. Niall sounds a lot more friendly and enthusiastic than usual, but his voice trails off when his eyes wander my form, “Wow… you look…” “Hot as hell,” Carmen whispers in my ear from behind me, making me almost fall over again. When she places her hands on my tense, bare shoulders, she asks if I’m all right. “Um… yeah…” I don’t sound too convincing. Niall chuckles before suggesting, “Maybe you need to relax a bit?” My eyes widen when he casually pulls out a joint, as though I asked for some damn sugar. It’s not my first time seeing weed or anything, I’ve just never smoked in my life. In fact, I’ve never been interested in trying despite the fact that all my friends do. “Yes, you definitely should!” Carmen encourages while wrapping her arm around me, “Honestly, I feel so good right now. It’s good quality shit too, so you’ll have a good ass high.” I blink a couple times, before shaking my head and declining, “I’m good, but thank you.” Awkwardly taking a seat on her bed (that’s definitely bigger than mine since she doesn’t have a dorm mate), Carmen pouts while Niall shrugs and lights his joint. I try to keep myself busy by looking at my phone, but my gaze keeps returning to Niall. Fuck, he just looks so… cool. I know. I sound like a damn freshman in high school admiring the popular senior. In a way, that’s exactly how I feel right now - an inexperienced, naive, and small outcast who is somehow hanging out with the cool kids. I’ve never been pressured to do drugs - verbally, at least. But you see, peer pressure is typically depicted in movies like this: the popular antagonist pushes the goody-two-shoes into trying something bad, the good guy is resistant at first, and they eventually give in when the bad guy calls them a chicken or something. Movies never really address how peer pressure can occur without harmful intentions. Someone can compromise their prior beliefs simply because they are outnumbered, not necessarily for the sake of “looking cool” - more so, to at least feel like they belong there. This is why I find myself asking quietly, “Niall? Uh, may I-” Despite the clouds of smoke that he exhales, his blue eyes still shine in arrogance - as though he knew I was going to ask. He uses his index and middle finger to gesture me to sit with him by the desk (which really shouldn’t be making me feel some type of way). “Yaaasss, Ari!” Carmen cheers, shamelessly sticking her tongue out. “While you do that, I’mma get some snacks. Be right back.” Before I can say a word, she hurries out the door and closes it shut behind her. I’ve never been alone with just Niall before, so my stomach is churning a bit. Even though I know he’ll probably be easygoing and flirty like yesterday, I’m still anxious over how I’m going to act towards him. Maybe I really do need to get high… hell, getting crossfaded doesn’t sound like a bad idea either. I knew I shouldn’t taken a shot before I came here. “Is it your first time?” Niall nonchalantly asks, while I’m a bit stunned at his forwardness. When he catches the look on my face, he smirks while clarifying, “Smoking. Is it your first time smoking?” “Oh!” I nervously laugh because, my God, I thought he was straight up asking if it was my first time having sex. Y’all can’t blame my mind being in the gutter; I’m about to have a threesome, okay? “Uh, yeah.” My cheeks redden a bit in embarrassment, and I expect Niall to look at me like I’m some sort of prude. Instead, he easily grins and offers, “I can help ya out if you want.” “How so?” My tone comes off as more suggestive than I intended, and Niall seems to interpret it as flirting. I’m not mad about it though. His tongue briefly runs over his bottom lip, keeping his gaze on me, “Open your mouth.” Normally I would’ve questioned this sudden command, but his husky voice and dominance proves to be persuasive when my mouth opens obediently. Niall lights another joint before bringing it to his lips, taking his time to inhale the drug. His hooded lids open to meet my curious orbs. Niall gestures me to come closer again, his magnetic pull drawing me closer. Although I haven’t even taken a hit yet, the ounce of confidence I have pushes me to sit on his lap. He’s surprised at first, but he doesn’t seem to mind when his hands hold my frame. My plump lips, still ajar, are centimeters away from his when he slowly breathes into me. His whisper simultaneously blows with the smoke, “Take it in. Slowly.” Fuck. I do what I’m told once more. My eyelids flutter to close while I instinctively adjust myself, trying to relieve the aching desire to some extent. Niall groans, which makes me realize that I unintentionally grinded on him. Again, I’m definitely not mad about it. Within moments, a rush of relaxation conquers my nerves. My tense muscles are now loose, and this new feeling of liberation has me on cloud nine. I definitely understand why people smoke weed now, I honestly feel… amazing. After vaguely hear Niall say something, I mutter not very coherently, “Huh?” His chuckle makes me laugh too, for whatever reason. “I said, you want another hit?” Niall has this crooked grin that is also very convincing, so I energetically nod like a damn bobblehead (again, who cares though). With his guidance, I take a couple hits with our shared joint. Every puff I take in seems to level up my self-esteem, especially sexually, which is what I’ve desperately needed. I’m ready to ask Niall to shotgun me again, but I perk up when Carmen walks back in. Hopping off of his lap, I gush, “Caaaarmen. You’re right, I feel so fucking good.” She beams, before finishing the last of her Snickers bar. I wish she bought me one too, it smells so fucking good. “So are we gonna get started or what?” Niall puts out the joint on the ashtray and stands up, casually placing his hands behind his head. “Can’t wait any longer, babe.” I’m sure he’s addressing his girlfriend, but my face heats up anyway. “Ariana,” Carmen turns towards me, giving me her undivided attention, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” I don’t even bother to hide my eagerness. “Yes.” Fuck reconsidering this for the thousandth time. I’m with Niall - let’s get this started already. I want Carmen, I want Niall, and I want them both at the same time. After a stare-off of what feels like ten minutes, she finally nods, “I want this too. Babe, what about you?” “Are ya kidding?” Niall stands up and wraps each of his arms around us, “Do you really have to ask? Fuck yeah.” Of course we have to ask, consent is important! We’re standing there for a couple seconds, not really knowing what to do. Carmen makes the first move and stands in front of me. My face flushes when her hands cradle my cheeks, mumbling, “I’ve never kissed a girl before.” I’m stunned in silence as she inches closer to me. The pace is too slow for me, so I decide boldly close the gap between us. Her lips are soft and full - perfect, really. I’m not sure what tastes sweeter, her or the chocolate. I run my fingers through her hair, enjoying her gasp when I tug on her bun. Her hands find their way to my hips briefly, but it’s not long before they make their way lower. My quiet moan vibrates between our mouths when she squeezes my ass. A louder moan escapes when Niall caresses my breasts from behind, while his mouth begins to eagerly kiss the back of my neck. He sucks harder before lightly tugging with his teeth, no doubt leaving a love bite as a reminder of tonight. When Carmen and I separate to catch our breath, I’m captivated by her swollen lips and pink cheeks. I’m not given much time to appreciate it because Niall hastily turns me around to face him, “I love this shirt, but you won’t need it anymore.” (I try to not think about if he intended to quote Bruno Mars’ song, “Versace on the Floor.”) His fingers sneak under my top, and it amazes me how my skin tingles at his simple touch. Niall attempts to hastily pull my shirt off, but that fails because the tight sleeves get stuck in my arms. We all laugh it off, especially when it takes a lot longer than expected to remove it. Once both my top and choker drop to the ground, Niall’s breath hitches in his throat. “Damn. Wow.” Carmen stands next to him and bites her lip, “You’re so hot.” It doesn’t take very long for everyone else’s clothes to join mine on the floor, but I’m last to strip completely. Although my high is still at its prime, I’m still a bit self-conscious since I haven’t been nude in front of someone for a long time. Carmen seems to sense my hesitance since her lips meet mine again, which easily comforts me. She wraps her arms around my chest and unhooks my bra without looking (something I’m sure Niall definitely can’t do). Shivers are sent down my spine once I’m completely exposed, especially when Niall pulls off my panties. I wonder why Carmen whines in my mouth at that moment. My question is answered once fingers brush against my throbbing center, causing me to curse. “Good thing I’m left handed and right handed, huh?” Niall teases. This cheeky remark doesn’t really fully process in my clouded mind, because my smart ass definitely would’ve corrected him. It’s called ambidextrous. “I’m sorry this is forward but um,” Carmen abruptly says, halting our touching, “I’ve always wanted to try scissoring.” Oh Jesus. I can’t say I’m surprised, this is one of the most popular ~lesbian sex positions~. In case you don’t know what it is, here’s my most simple explanation: make a peace sign with both hands and close them in together. The gap between your index and middle finger on each hand should be touching the other - like scissors (hence the name). Now... imagine your fingers are women’s legs. Know what I mean, jellybean? A bit overrated, in my opinion. “Um…” I trail off, trying to not be as blunt, “it feels good, but it’s not the most comfortable?” “Can you both just give it a try?” Niall groans close to my ear while stroking Carmen’s back, “God, it would be sooo sexy.” I make a face, hoping that he’s not expecting us to reenact some porn video. Those are incredibly exaggerated and should not be the expectation of true sex. “Mm… all right,” I decide, only because I haven’t done that position in a long time. I’ve always been on top, which I’m okay with, but I get tired easily. Since it’s Carmen’s first time, I’m assuming I’ll be doing all the work (read: won’t orgasm). Nothing new, I guess. We all move to the bed, Niall stroking himself as Carmen and I get into the position. Carmen’s mirror is close to the bed, so I see our reflection and… wow. I definitely don’t blame Niall - the sight of me hovering over Carmen’s beautiful naked form is incredibly arousing. My eyes drift down to her already staring at me, her brown eyes significantly darker as she takes me in. My dripping center meets hers, and already, her eyes are rolling back in bliss. I grind slowly at first, but I can’t help but quickening my pace. I’m normally rather quiet, but this pleasure has me letting out noises without a second thought. This doesn’t very last too long unfortunately, because my fucking leg falls asleep. I try to ignore it at first, but once it starts to affect my grinding, I speak up, “Ugh, shit. I’m sorry, my leg is asleep.” While I’m kind of embarrassed about this, I feel that communication is necessary. Also, this is probably a reality check for Niall that we’re humans - not porn stars. “It’s… it’s okay,” Carmen assures, a little out of breath. “Let’s try a different position.” I’m relieved when I finally have the chance to lie down. Geez, I need to go to the gym. “Okay, let’s plan this,” Niall speaks like he’s our damn coach or something, despite having a (quite impressive) boner (but then again, this is the first dick I’ve seen in person so I don’t have much to compare it to). “Babe, can you suck my dick?” “Yeah sure. Ari, do you mind eating me out though?” It’s getting difficult for me to stifle my laughter when we talk so casually about this, but again, communication is important. I appreciate us planning this. I stroke my chin thoughtfully, “How the hell are we gonna do that?” We lie in silence, contemplating for a couple moments. When a raunchy idea comes to mind, I’m quick to suggest it, “Carmen, you can sit on my face while you suck Niall’s dick.” Jesus. I didn’t mean to be so… crude. I surprise myself. Niall agrees within a millisecond, “I’m down. Yup. Let’s do it.” “Damn… didn’t think you got down like that, Ari,” Carmen muses slyly going on her knees, while I nonchalantly shrug. “Niall, how about you get off the bed and stand up? I’ll blow you on the edge of the bed?” He doesn’t even bother hiding his clear excitement when he hurriedly obliges. It takes awhile for us to get the hang of our placement, but we manage. A couple pillows are placed under my head to provide elevation for Carmen’s mouth to reach Niall’s length. She also has to arch her body a bit (which will probably strain her back after awhile, but she doesn’t seem to mind), while Niall holds onto her weight so she doesn’t fall over. At least it works, I think. I immediately know when Carmen starts Niall’s blowjob because, well, he’s loud as hell. It’s not a bad thing I guess, but my mind starts to wander about the neighboring students. I feel sorry for them, Carmen and Niall are probably sexually active. But anyway, back to what’s really important. Carmen was kind enough to ask if she needed to do anything, but my only response was, “Enjoy.” I truly enjoy this position (my ex definitely took full advantage of that, which is why I’m confident in my skills - lots of practice). I can tell Carmen trying hard to not place her entire weight on me, so I wrap my arms around her thighs so she can relax her muscles. My tongue circles around her clit, and I’m satisfied when I hear Carmen stop sucking Niall off just to moan my name out loud. When I begin to use my lips to suck hers, she begins swiveling her hips against me. One of the hardest things of this position is breathing, but it’s all about control. “Come for me, babygirl.” I pause for a moment, shocked that Niall is able to turn me on again. He wasn’t even talking to me! And with dirty talk? That isn’t usually my forte, but when Niall does it… My center is aching, and I’m desperate to fill my need to be touched. Still, I continue eating out Carmen; truthfully, I’m used to giving rather than receiving. Her thighs begin to quiver, and she reaches her orgasm almost instantly. “Ari baby, when can I taste you?” Fuck. When Carmen gets off of me, Niall lies down next to me. His hand rubs my inner thigh before slowly grazing my swollen sex, making me hiss. “Wanna sit on my face? Let me take care of you.” “Please.” I don’t recognize my own whimper that comes out of my mouth on its own accord. I’m pretty impressed with Niall’s idea of Carmen riding him while he does this (probably an idea from porn). Some of my confidence simmers a bit since this is the first time I’m the one receiving in this position. And my thighs are definitely thicker than Carmen’s. What if I kill Niall?! I shake my head at my ridiculous thoughts. While Niall grabs a condom (an entire pack is conveniently placed on the nearest desk - they’re definitely prepared), I clean my face a bit before smoking another joint. Although my mind gets more foggy than my first high, my body is more at ease and I feel better already. I needed that. Niall’s “come hither” gestures shouldn’t turn me on as they do, but they really do. I’m practically crawling towards him, my mouth watering at the sight of him lying on his back stroking himself. Unlike before, I’m swiftly on my knees and ready to straddle his face. My body is facing Carmen as she readies herself to ride Niall. He wraps his arms around my thighs like I did earlier, but he roughly brings me down on him. I’m caught off guard, but very turned on. Niall’s mouth is working wonders in a hurried pace, which brings overwhelming sensations everywhere. Is it the drugs that’s making me high out of my mind, or is it his fucking tongue? Niall is like a drug I can’t get enough of. He makes me want to be selfish and demand to receive, not give. Carmen’s moans aren’t even registering in my head because I’m so caught up in this boy underneath me, determined to send me over the edge. It’s not until she calls my name, in which I lazily recognize by simply opening my eyes to meet hers. My heart stops when I finally take her in. Her breasts are bouncing with every thrust while her brows are furrowed in concentration, desperate for her and Niall’s release. I whimper, short of breath, “Fuck.” “I’m close -” Carmen manages to say despite her panting, and I shamelessly watch the way her mouth opens wider and wider until she cries out. Her movements begin to slow down as her orgasm hits her, so Niall rapidly thrusts into her. His prior rhythm with eating me out gets sloppy as he reaches his high, but unfortunately I can’t say the same. Deep down, I feel like another reason Katy dumped me was because of how hard it can be to make me come. It’s shitty because I just can’t help it sometimes, and it’s actually pretty normal. Once Niall finishes, I get off of him and lie on my back. I’m a bit disappointed, but mostly relieved that I can stretch my legs (listen, this is the most cardio I’ve done in like, months). Carmen and Niall are probably that fit couple who go to the gym together to not only be healthy, but to also have bomb ass sex. Can’t relate. “You didn’t come, huh? Fuck, I’m sorry about that,” Niall genuinely apologizes before offering, “Carmen, maybe you can blow me so I can get hard, and then Ari and I can -” “No, it’s fine,” I insist, interrupting before he can finish his sentence. I think I know where he was going with it. “I’m good. You both came, and I’m okay with that.” “No!” Carmen and Niall object simultaneously. As crazy as the night has been going, this brings a sincere smile to my face because they actually care about me finishing. I’m grateful that they’re the people I’m experiencing this with. It doesn’t take long for me to give in. Sue me, I’m still pretty horny and I want my orgasm. Or five. “All right. Just… um, do you mind just fingering me, Niall?” His face falls, but he nods anyway. “Turn around for me,” Niall gently commands, which I follow despite being a bit confused over him wanting us to spoon. He begins to rub my skin slowly, sensually… almost romantically. We’re interrupted by Carmen, who I almost forgot was there for a second. “What about me?” She doesn’t sound angry at all, more so eager about the next thrilling position we’re going to try. At this point, I’m ready to literally Google the best threesome positions on my phone because I’m out of ideas. Niall sighs against my skin, almost disappointed when he proposes, “How about you lie next to me and give me a handjob while I finger Ari?” Although I’m worried about being an inconvenience to the couple, Carmen’s excitement doesn’t falter when she joins us on the bed. He resumes with his sensual touches, until he murmurs against my ear, “May I kiss you?” My arms are erupted with goosebumps, and I’m not sure if it’s his tickling breath or his request. My head turns to face Niall, who is giving me an intrigued stare. I look over at Carmen, who surprises me with a nod in approval - looking positively enthralled. “Yes,” I quietly utter, still feeling a bit ashamed about how badly I want Niall’s lips on mine. Not only is he dating one of my friends, but... he’s also a guy. Until recently, I was so sure I only liked girls. Now, I have no idea. Unlike Carmen, I don’t want to tell him that he’s the first boy I’m kissing. I don’t realize I’m spacing out until Niall lifts my chin to meet his darker blue eyes. I’m completely still, unable to kiss him first like I did with Carmen. When he closes the gap between us, my breath hitches in my throat in anticipation. His lips are rougher than Carmen’s, as well as Katy’s. He’s more eager, nibbling on my bottom lip and exploring my mouth with his tongue. Although I’m kissing back, I’m still trying to figure out if I like the way his mouth works against mine. He pulls away unexpectedly, “Carmen, babe. I’m sorry, but this position is kind of uncomfortable. Do you mind just… jacking me off after Ari comes?” The entire mood changes. Instead of sexual tension, it’s pure tension now. I feel like I just crossed a very blurry line. “Oh um… okay,” Carmen awkwardly says, “I’ll just touch myself, I guess.” “Honestly, I’m fine,” I’m quick to assert, “This isn’t even necessary -” Although Niall opens his mouth, Carmen is first to insist, “No Ari, you deserve it. You agreed to doing this with us, okay?” When I don’t respond, Niall asks, “You good? Or do you wanna stop?” I turn to Carmen, still unsure, but she smiles and nods. Well, if she’s okay with it then so am I. “I don’t want to stop,” I finally say, going back into my position. I catch the same cocky look in Niall’s eyes, the one when he knows that I’m going to give in anyway. It annoys me, mostly because he’s been right each time. His hand travels from hip up to my breasts, my nipples immediately perking at his touch. While they’re not too impressive, I appreciate that Niall is still giving my chest attention. When he wanders past my belly button, my hips impulsively jolt towards him. “Eager, are we?” His arrogant remark should piss me off, but it turns me on more than anything. He slowly brushes his fingers around my sex, his tantalizing amplifying my desire for him. I’m squirming when I groan, “Niall…” “Yes?” Niall breathes in my ear, acting like he has no idea what he’s doing to me. But he does - oh, he definitely does. “What do you want, baby?” If he thinks I’m going to participate in his dirty talk, he’s going to be disappointed. When I only mewl at his brief flick against my clit, he growls, “Tell me what you want.” In all honesty, dirty talk does turn me on. I’ve never been with anyone who talks like that though, so I’m just not sure if I’m good enough to try. “Come on Ariana,” Niall purrs, the way his name rolls of his tongue makes me lean closer into him, “I know you want it, just tell me…” My mind is moving slowly, to the point that I don’t even realize words are coming out of my mouth, “Come. I wanna come.” At that moment, Niall finally applies pressure on my aching center and I let out my loudest moan. My hips writhe until my legs spread out completely; I don’t even care that my back is basically on top of Niall. He pushes his middle finger inside of me before adding his index finger, confidently curving it to hit that spot. I’m helplessly melting into him, again, not realizing what I’m even saying, “Yes… right there, please.” He doesn’t need me saying that though - Niall is so sure of himself. When he uses his other hand to rub my clit while pumping faster, my thighs start shaking. “You like it when I get aggressive?” I’m really glad he can’t see my face in this angle, because it completely drops. Cue the sound of the record scratching and stopping. Did he mean to quote Drake’s song, “Controlla?” Or does he not think I would pick up on it? “Who’s gonna make you come, babygirl?” Because honestly, I probably wouldn’t have noticed. I never listen to the radio. In fact, I only know that song because of - “Lou-” Oh my God! Did I really just... “y-you. You. You are gonna make me come.” God bless my up to par skills of thinking on my toes and under pressure. Even though I’m about to go under cardiac arrest. Jesus Christ, how did I almost do the cliche of saying someone else’s name during sex? Louis’ name, of all people. Why does this type of thing always happen to me?! Niall is quiet for second, so paranoia hits me like a truck. I mean, Lou rhymes with you. He could’ve easily “misheard,” right? Or maybe I’m just fucked. Should I move transfer schools? Move out of the country? You know, moving back to Italy doesn’t sound like a bad idea. My plans for the future are interrupted when Niall asks in a gruff voice, “You close, Ariana?” If he did hear me say Lou, at least he’s not mentioning it right now. But I think he mistakened my heavy breathing as approaching my orgasm. Well, this is awkward - Niall, that was just my anxiety. Louis comes to my mind again, but in a different way. My heart is pounding when I think about the way he looks at me, like I’m the most important person in the room. How his eyes tend to travel around my entire face, settling on my lips a beat longer before meeting my gaze. How his face lights up when I call him Lou, because he feels special enough to be called a nickname. Just like how he calls me Grande. But on the other hand, the few times when he has a serious and tense expression. Whether it be when he’s talking about something serious, or when he’s focused on just listening… fuck. “Yes, I’m close.” My mouth is moving on its own again, but at least it’s honest this time - only because I’m thinking of someone else. My mind is all over the place, but all I know is that Louis is the only one running through it right now. I start to think about how his skin would feel against mine, how he would make me feel good - When the fingers rub me a lot more frantically, I’m reminded that the person touching me isn’t Louis - it’s Niall. Someone who doesn’t know me nearly as well as Louis, and apparently, not about how ���being close” doesn’t always mean “go faster.” Just keep up what you’re currently doing, damn! Despite being under the influence, I can still recognize that I’m not close to finishing anymore. Knowing Niall, he’s not going to give up until I come - but it doesn’t seem likely tonight. I’m a bit disappointed, but mostly exhausted. So, I do the second worst (this may actually be worse) thing during sex: I fake it. My performance isn’t too shabby, but I’m not too proud of the fact that it’s because I’ve done it often in the past. I feel like I’ve let Nicki Minaj down by not demanding my orgasm, but again, I’m tired. And hungry. Maybe I’ll get a Snickers too. Niall is the first to speak up, “Wow. This was all so… damn. Craziest shit I’ve ever done.” I nod in agreement, because honestly, I can’t argue with that. I lay there in silence, trying to wrap my head around everything that just happened. Everything is still moving slowly though, and all I want to do is sleep. “Well, I’m gonna clean up.” I jump, almost forgetting that Carmen was there for like, the tenth time. When I catch the weird look on her face, my body abruptly sits up. Shit, what if she heard me say Lou? I know she wouldn’t tell him but… I do not want Louis ever finding out that this happened. There’s no way he’ll ever find out that I was thinking about him, so at least I can keep that a secret. But I don’t even want to tell him about the fact that I just had a threesome with Carmen and Niall. Why though? Asking myself that simple question makes my heart stop. What scares me the most is that I might know the answer. --- (Beyonce voice) GOD DAMN GOD DAMN GOD DAMN That happened. Told y’all it was gonna be wild. I know it’s pretty graphic, and trust me, it’s intentional. While I wanted to express how ~sexy~ it is, I also wanted to describe some realistic scenarios as well. (Tee, you probably wanna kill me for making the threesome happen. Don’t worry, Ari learns her lesson and things kinda go downhill from here lmao) Sorry this took so long! It’s been awhile since I’ve written smut, so I definitely struggled. Hopefully this is decent! I would greatly appreciate any sort of feedback: -about the smut (read: ~swing dancing~) as a whole -Niall being a horny shit (can’t blame him, he’s doin’ the nasty with Alessia Cara and Diane Guerrero like...) and stealing lines from songs (lmao pls don’t hate me but it’s kinda funny) and “just chillin’ out me box” -Ariana becoming a ~dangerous woman~ when she’s high and almost saying Louis’ name lmao bye -Harry as the auntie who lives for drama and spilling the tea -Louis visiting Ari at work -Niall’s natural brown hair and unseasoned chicken -how your day is going, the Golden Globes (can I just mention that I fucking typed Golden GLOVES at first? I’m crying), anything! Okay. Ready for the rest of my long ass author’s note regarding Here getting featured? (You don’t have to read this, but it would mean a lot if you did!) I’m gonna get hella simpy because, well, that’s me (even though I definitely screamed/cried in all caps in a Tumblr post). I am so incredibly honored that Here is December’s featured fic! Holy hell, it still blows my mind. I didn’t think I would ever get that kind of recognition, and this fic is one of the few featured fics with less than 100 reviews. I don’t have a problem with that of course; I write because it’s my passion, that’s all. But damn. That’s why I’m so damn shook lmao! Most importantly, this is one of the few featured fics that has a woman of color as the main character (not just as a face claim either - Ariana’s Italian-American culture is a component to her character). This is the main reason I’m so emotional about all of this and why it’s a huge deal. While representation in fanfiction may not be equivalent to Hollywood, I find it to still be a prominent issue. When I first got into 1DFF, I was pretty much conditioned to accepting that every main character is going to be a white, heterosexual, cis gendered, thin, able-bodied girl. But honestly? I was and still am tired of it. Since writing is an awesome platform that provides countless opportunities, I try my best to be inclusive and have diversity in my cast (especially since OT4 are white, hetereosexual, cis gendered, able-bodied, and fit the beauty standard already). In this case, I wanted to focus on a woman of color’s questioning her sexuality and bisexuality as a whole. With that said, I am grateful that not only my writing is getting exposure - but the fact that my fic with diversity is. The issues I address, the different cultures… It means so much that I’m gaining readers who (hopefully) absorb the messages, as well as women of color readers who reach out too. Thank you all so much. - Angel
#hello this is almost 8K of pure craziness#idk what this is#pls send help#i hope y'all enjoy it took me 5 million years and i'm not even satisfied with it#i'm just gonna go in a box like Niall#just chillin out me box#here#1dff#one direction#one direction fanfiction#louis tomlinson#niall horan#1d woc#woc fic
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