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#might actually space it out over a weekend?
halorvic · 2 days
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#sars cov 2#covid 19#i've interacted with 4 different friends/acquaintances in the past month alone who have all been hospitalised after having a stroke#(and in one case multiple strokes)#one who i visited in hospital over the weekend had a (unmasked) nurse coughing up a lung in her room 👍#and one of them who had to undergo surgery also had to be moved to a different hospital#bc the ward they were keeping him in was full of confirmed covid patients 👍👍#idk how many times it needs to be said before it gets through people's heads but VACCINES ARE NOT ENOUGH#and encouraging ppl to rely solely on them when there are already plans to jack up the prices so you have to KEEP PAYING for boosters#for an ONGOING mass-disabling event is so laughably unrealistic and absurd and flat-out demonic#you need to mitigate the actual spread of covid by WEARING A MASK + fighting for CLEAN AIR/proper ventilation in public spaces!!!!!!#ppl are so eager to forget the whole 'break the chain of transmission' thing and how effective masking is and so this is where we're at#'i got infected and infected other ppl who might die or become permanently disabled but it's no big deal bc no one else wears a mask#so if /i/ didn't infect them someone else would have anyway so it's not my fault and really its got nothing to do with me and my choices'#if everyone is responsible then no one is responsible - that's how it works right?#it's no wonder some ppl go rabid at even the sight of someone wearing a mask and minding their own business#ppl seeking treatment for unrelated conditions/illnesses and then dying from covid caught in hospitals#due to lack of npis/basic mitigation measures - no regulations no accountability#we truly live in a hell (''new normal'') of our own making#anyway none of this is new news at all i mostly thought it might be good to share the info graphic abt signs of stroke#covid has been given free reign and chances are increasing as to how likely you'll encounter it happening to someone you know at some point#also heart attacks and pots and alzheimer's etc etc etc
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen
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TW: nsfw, angst
You wake up to the smell of bacon, coffee, and something sweet in the skillet.
Usually such a thing would mean you are dreaming, and you need to wake your ass up before you’re late for work. But you roll over to look into your tiny kitchen, finding a sight fit for Playgirl Magazine before your disbelieving eyes.
Dear Penthouse, I can’t believe this actually happened to me…
Detective Tom Ludlow is in your kitchen, making pancakes…in nothing but a towel around his trim waist. His dark hair is combed back, still wet from the shower. His broad shoulders are something to write home about–Kansas farm boys had nothing on this beautiful specimen of masculinity.
Had the night before even been real?
As though he senses your return to consciousness–or maybe the weight of your gawker’s stare upon him–he turns to look at you. “Morning, beautiful.”
You blink with surprise, because he is talking to you.
“Hi,” you greet, clever as ever, and goddammit but are you blushing?
“Whacha looking at?” he teases, spatula in hand. The very picture of domestic bliss. God help you, but in that moment you were 300 percent ready to put a ring on this man.
“Just…the most best thing I’ve ever seen,” you admit, knowing you’ll kick yourself for it later.
However, the smile he pays you, smug yet somehow gentle–it fries your brain entirely.
“Likewise, sweetheart.” He crosses the short space with a few long strides to press his lips to yours. “You like pancakes with blueberries?”
You’d bought the ingredients–and promptly stuck them in the cupboards–for just such a purpose, thinking that someday, when you had time, and weren’t bone fucking tired from working 12 hour shifts days in a row, you’d make a point to treat yourself.
Funny, how that never happened, until Tom Ludlow came around.
Here you are, getting emotional about blueberry fucking pancakes.
“Yes,” is the only answer you can muster, and he kisses you so sweetly that it curls your toes.
His soft smile down at you will be the death of you. “Sleep well?”
“Like a well-fucked rock,” you tell him, winning a bark of masculine laughter. 
“Likewise, beautiful. Definitely likewise.” He vacates the couch to flip his pancake. You continue to stare, still dumbfounded.
“Tom?” you ask, still struggling to wake up.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Did last night…actually happen?”
“Sure did. Don’t you remember driving to Vegas? We got the best Elvis in the building.”
You blink stupidly for a few moments, before registering his absolutely shit-eating grin.
“Very funny. And the joke would be on you, if you married me on a drunken lark.”
“Why?” he asks, seemingly amused by your discomfort.
“I told you. I’m a fucking mess.”
“Far as I can tell? You’re fucking perfect, and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.” 
You’re not really sure why this pithy little compliment brings tears to your eyes, your lip quivering. Only a beat later does he notice, and he rushes over again.
“Hey, hey, no crying, baby, I’m sorry. What’s wrong? I was just joking.”
You swipe at your eyes with the heels of your hands, embarrassed. “You’re just..so sweet, and I actually fucking believe you, when you say this shit, ok?”
He blinks, but god bless, it only takes him a moment to assess, and act. He presses his soft lips to yours, then his forehead to your forehead, as though he can will you to accept his declarations through osmosis. “Believe it,” he tells you. “It’s true…well. Not the Elvis bit. We can do that next weekend if you want.”
You know he’s joking…but it still doesn’t fail to utterly melt your insides. This man who manhandled and harrassed you has turned out to be the biggest fucking softy, and you just might lose your shit.
You’ve already cried in front of him too many times, though, so you play it off and act like what he’s saying is no big deal. “Really? I think I’d rather have Michael Jackson instead.” 
You wonder if he misses being married. If he fucked his wife like he’d fucked you last night…you can’t fathom stepping out on him. But then you also know, that sometimes cops can also be married to their jobs. It could make for a difficult threesome. You imagine going without him, while he was working an intense case, would be absolute hell.
Tom snorts. “Whatever floats my lady’s boat,” he answers, flipping another pancake onto the stack. He ports them to the table with a flourish. “Come eat, sweet girl. You gotta work today?”
“Later. Unfortunately.”
He sticks his full lip out in a pout that should be illegal on a grown ass man. “Then eat quickly, because I’m not done with you yet.” he informs you with a wicked smirk that causes a brand new flood between your already sticky thighs. 
He turns, that broad, tapered back on full display, to finish plating breakfast, and you can’t not watch the tight muscle in his butt shift in the thin towel. You get this sudden strange urge to sink your teeth into him and latch on, and wonder if ancient cavewomen bit their partners to lay claims. Because that’s what Tom Ludlow works on—the part of your spongy brain that developed before speech and theory—the part that wants to bite and howl. 
Evolution is a bitch. 
Oh no, he can cook. And cook good. The pancakes he sets in front of you, drizzled with honey and topped with fresh blueberries, taste like a fluffy heaven in your mouth. Even the coffee is splendid, done up blonde and sugary just the way you prefer. “Tom, damn,” you compliment between mouthfuls. “You went out to get blueberries?” It’s selfish, but the thought of him leaving you alone even to run out and grab something for you makes your insides twist uncomfortably. 
“Oh, no, I borrowed some from your neighbor.” 
Of course at that moment you have an entire mouthful of coffee that you almost spray on his bare, beautiful chest. “What?!” 
He adopts a bemused smile. “Very nice lady.”
“Please tell me you had more than just a towel on?” 
“Less, actually.” 
He bursts into laughter and the astonished look on your face. 
“I’m gonna kick your ass, Ludlow.” 
“She asked me something really interesting.” He wipes a little honey off your top lip and sucks it into his mouth, making you dumb enough to forget you’re annoyed. “She asked me if I’m the nightmare?” 
“I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
“You are a terrible little liar, you know that? I can see your tell from a mile away.” 
“Oh, what is it?” You smirk, shove a bite of pancake into your mouth. 
“You’re lucky I’m hungry,” he threatens, playful and promising, sending a thrill through your chest. 
You grab a glob of honey on your finger and kitten lick it off, almost bold enough to make direct eye contact with him for more than five seconds while you’re doing it. “Or what?” 
He pops up from his seat, and your first instinct is run. Run away. You make it two steps before he has you grabbed around the waist and is dragging you back to his place at the table. 
Your squeals of nervous laughter crescendo into a moan when he pulls you down onto his big cock. It surprises you as much as it did last night, how well he fills and stretches you. Not a piece of your fluttery hole unpunished by his silky, maddening pressure. You immediately grind, eager for that pressure to shift and rub and build you, but he stills you with a mitt on your waist. 
Then his big hands bunch in the ruffled fabric of your sundress, which somehow you never managed to remove amidst both of your eagerness to get to other parts of you instead. Slowly he draws it up over your head, tossing it away somewhere across the room. Before you can even begin to think about feeling self conscious he makes a low sound of appreciation behind you, running his hands down your curves. 
“So fucking beautiful. I just wanna stay inside this pretty little pussy all day,” he tells you, smoothing his wet tongue across your shoulder. You arch into him, and he nips your skin for the retaliation. “Feel her throb while I tell you what I wanna do to her. Jesus, you’re soaked.” 
You try to squeeze your thighs together for precious friction on your clit, but he tugs them back open, chuckling at the pathetic attempt. “You wanna fuck yourself, baby?”
“Yes. Fu-uhck.” 
“Want me to pet that pretty clit while you ride me?” He kisses up your neck, into your hairline, tugs your ear between his teeth and you see white fire. 
“Yes, Tom. Yes. Please.” 
“Then eat your breakfast.” 
It’s impossible to focus on the delicious food anymore. The chunks of stuff getting forked into your mouth are no match for the small taste of him. It isn’t long before he’s done with silverware and hand feeding you, making you lick and suck his sticky fingers clean. 
“Atta girl. Keeping me all warm and cozy.” His mouth traces circles on your upper back that make you twitch and gasp while his heavy pointer and index finger rest on your tongue, sweet and salty-pleasure and pain-the desire to move trumping all of it. 
When his fingers trail up your side and land on your nipple, rolling and pinching, you clench your thighs shut again. He grunts at you, although you think it was meant to be a sound of disapproval before you clenched deliberately on his cock. 
“You want to cum?” 
“Yessss.” 
“Then open your legs back up.” 
You obey with a groan of frustration, widening your hips so that the tantalizing pressure is off your throbbing clit. That means all you can focus on is having him inside you, and that would be great if he would just fucking thrust. 
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He grabs your hips to hold you in place. “You’re busy.” 
“Could be important,” you say. 
“More important than this?” He grinds up, into your cervix, into all the sensitive soaked walls of your cunt, and the answer to his question is no. Absolutely not. There is nothing more important than him or his cock. 
“Tom,” you hiss. 
He sighs. “Alright. I’ll get it. Get dressed.” 
How empty you feel, when you slide off of his cock as you stand on trembling legs. He halts your progress by gripping your hips, pressing his mouth to the curve of your buttocks. You forget about the door, and everything else, turning in his arms so that he can bury his face in your cleavage. “These beautiful–” He kisses one breast cupped in his hand, “Naughty,” a kiss for the other, just beside your nipple, the tease, “titties are in so much trouble.” He sucks on your perked nipple with a pop, making you cry out. 
Knock knock knock.
“Someone’s fucking determined,” he grumbles against your skin. 
Reluctantly you manage to pull away from him, and you remember this state of the art technology in your door called a peephole. Naked as a jaybird, you peer through the tiny lens–and gasp at the sight on the other side.
This clearly interests Tom, his head canting at an angle in question. You shake your head, just knowing a perfect storm is brewing. “It’s no one. Ignore it,” you say quietly, hoping they don’t hear you on the other side, praying they have the sense to go away. You try to distract Tom again with kisses and by trying to pull him towards the bedroom, but dammit this man is solid as a fucking tree when he doesn’t want to move.
“Who is it?” he asks with a lifted brow.
Knock knock. “Y/n? I know you’re home.”
Goddammit.
What can only be described as a wicked grin spreads over Tom’s handsome features. “Oh. Let’s say hello, shall we?” 
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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Sub Bucky and a breeding kink 💀 dead unlived it's one of my favourite things 😌
This is pretty high up there on my list of dream fantasies 🥵 these are two of my biggest weaknesses, don't even look at me rn
One of life's greatest joys is cuddling with the other person's head resting on your chest so you can play with their hair and rub their shoulders. I love that shit, having someone else's body weight on you is so comforting.
I imagine that's something Bucky would really enjoy too. It's so soft and sweet and tender and getting to feel cared for would really appeal to him.
But that's up until his hands work their way under your top, up over your bare skin so he's able to cup your breasts and bury his face between them while he's getting his hair played with. Life's pleasures don't get much simpler than that.
After a few moments he shifts slightly, tugging the neckline of your shirt out of the way to give himself space to kiss and nip your skin. All of a sudden he's desperate and it's beautiful to watch.
"Please." He whispers between frantic kisses, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak of your nipple before engulfing it with his warm, eager mouth.
"Please, what?" You tease, tugging on his hair just a little for emphasis.
He groans, frustrated by his own lack of coherence, pulling his mouth from your nipple. "Please let me put a baby in you."
That's not what you were expecting but fuck, he makes it sound pretty appealing.
"Bucky-" You begin but he cuts you off, giving your other nipple the same attention as he gave the first. God, that's distracting.
"You'd make. Such. A pretty. Mommy." He whispers, kissing his way down your body until he reaches the bottom seam of your top. From there, he pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor before removing the rest of your clothes.
"You'd look so pretty with a little baby bump." His huge hand rests on your bare tummy, imaging how your body would change.
"I want it, Buck." You mean it too. It doesn't sound like such a bad idea when he's taking his clothes off.
"I know you want it." He groans, rubbing the tip of his dick against your soaked core. "Y-you're so wet."
He presses his hips forward, sliding inside you and you can't explain it but you swear it feels different this time.
"Don't even think about pulling out." You cup his face in your hands, keeping his eyes on you and you almost worry he's going to fuck himself senseless into you. "I want you to make me a mommy. You're going to give me every single drop of cum and when it starts to drip out of me, you're going to fuck it back in."
His head falls onto your shoulder, sobbing a pathetic moan against your already hot skin. The pace of his thrusts matches his need, his hips slamming into yours and when he finally gives in, he cums inside you with your legs clamped around his waist, making sure he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.
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boogiewoogieweeb · 11 days
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it's all fun and games typing up a silly, rickety little au idea in the tags of someone else's post and then suddenly you find yourself expanding on the world-building and plotting out interconnected stories for characters you swore would only make background appearances and your brain is On Fire with the need to write even when you know you can't commit to yet another doomed wip
#the terror#this is 100% about the fucking hartving tech!averse jirv/librarian!hartnell au from yesterday bc IT WON'T LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE#thinking about a ficlet detailing how bridlgar met#peggles is a delivery driver who does the rounds dropping off the library's stationary orders and john's the one in charge of receiving#and they strike up a friendship over terrible stationary puns and eventually start dating when john introduces harry to classic lit#thinking even more about a joplittle sequel where after ned shows up soaking wet the first time and is immediately smitten#by thomas “Just Being A Decent Person” jopson; he starts volunteering at the library just so he can get closer to jops#(like the loser he is; bc why ask someone out directly when you can just hang around in their orbit and hope they notice you noticing them)#but the more time he spends at the library the more he comes to love it; and ends up volunteering to read to children on his free weekends#(my tumblr homies know exactly where i'm headed with this bc i am so transparent my mom might as well have called me “window”)#and jops; despite his better instincts; gets so turned on after hearing ned do voice impressions for fictional crayons while reading to#a bunch of enraptured rugrats that he decides then and there he absolutely can't NOT fuck ned senseless the second he gets his hands on him#meanwhile for the main fic; jirv and tartnell are both absolutely disgustingly in love but are also completely clueless#as to how to go about expressing interest in each other bc while i imagine jirv not being as repressed in this as he normally is in fanon;#he still hasn't actually figured out he's Big Time Gay™ yet and#tartnell on the other hand is both extremely attracted to and intimidated by the handsome; aloof yet kind; bible-quoting scotsman#who's decided to adopt him as his personal apple support technician#despite the fact that tartnell knows little more about iphones than jirv (seeing as he's been using android since smartphones took off)#god i'm in so deep about this stupid little au i've dreamed up that i just want to yell about it for hours on end#and despite knowing i'll likely NEVER get around to writing it; it is just... taking up Brain Space... that i already Do Not Have
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nellectronic · 8 months
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i don’t want to do this i don’t want to do this i don’t w
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waitimcomingtoo · 2 months
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Smell Ya Later
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else
Masterlist
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Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.
“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.
“Hey.” He greeted.
“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.
“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.
“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.
“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.
“Really? I don’t smell anything.”
“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.
“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.
“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”
“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.
“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.
“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”
“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.
“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”
“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.
“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.
“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.
“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.
“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”
“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.
“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.
“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.
“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.
“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.
“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.
“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.
“It’s called a jade roller.”
“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.
“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.
“And it works?”
“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.
“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.
“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.
“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.
“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.
“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.
“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”
“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.
“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.
“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.
“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.
“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”
“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.
“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.
“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.
“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”
“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.
The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.
“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.
“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.
“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”
“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.
“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.
“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“
“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.
“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.
“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.
“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”
“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.
“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.
“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.
“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.
“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.
“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”
Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.
“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.
“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.
“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.
“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”
“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.
“What?” You wondered.
“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.
“How long has what been going on?”
“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.
“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.
“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.
“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”
“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.
“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”
“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.
“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”
“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.
“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.
“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.
“She has very moving music.” You defended him.
“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”
“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”
“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”
“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.
“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.
“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”
“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.
You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.
“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.
“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.
“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”
“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”
“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“
“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.
“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.
Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.
“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.
“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.
“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.
“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.
“What was the good idea before this one?”
“Chips in my sandwich.”
“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.
“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”
“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.
“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.
“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.
“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.
“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.
“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.
“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”
“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.
“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”
“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.
“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”
“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”
“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”
“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.
“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.
“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.
“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”
“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.
“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”
“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.
“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”
“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands
“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”
“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.
“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”
“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.
“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”
“Really? Never?”
“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.
“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”
“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”
“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”
“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”
“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.
“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.
“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.
“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.
“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”
“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.
“So?” He asked.
“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”
Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.
“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”
“11 guys.” You corrected.
“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.
“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.
“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”
“Not at school, no.”
“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.
“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.
“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.
“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.
“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”
“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.
“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.
“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.
“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”
“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.
“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”
You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.
“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.
“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.
“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.
“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.
“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.
“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.
“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”
“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you
“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”
You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.
“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.
“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”
“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.
“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.
“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.
“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.
“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.
“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.
“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”
“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.
“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.
“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”
“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.
“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”
“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.
“It is. But-“
“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.
“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”
“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.
“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.
“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”
“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”
“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.
You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.
You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.
“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.
“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.
“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.
“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.
“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”
Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.
When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.
“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.
“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.
“You planned this for me?”
“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.
“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.
“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.
“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.
“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”
“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.
“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.
“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.
“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.
“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.
“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.
“I do like you.” He said quietly.
“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”
“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.
“You like this.” You told him.
“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.
“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.
“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.
“Why were you in Sephora?”
“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”
“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.
“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”
“I love those.”
“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.
“Very impressive selection.”
“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”
“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”
“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.
“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.
“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”
“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”
“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”
“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.
“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“
You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.
“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.
“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.
“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.
“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“
“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.
“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”
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bangchansnudes · 2 months
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fuckboy!hyunjin. 1.6k word. cliched enemy to lovers(??) with a douchebag hyunjin.
“don’t tell me you’re scared of some fake gore,” the boy whispers over to you, followed by a mocking chuckle, “need me to protect you baby?”
“shut up.”
“baby.”
“shut-”
“can you both shut up and just watch the damn movie?” seungmin says from his sitting position on the floor, his head turning back to glare at both you and hyunjin on the couch, “i swear if i need to pause it again, i’m throwing both of you out in the cold!”
if it weren’t for the fact that your roommate was dating seungmin, you would never ever interact with someone like his best friend, hwang hyunjin, let alone let him into your apartment.
but unfortunately for you, the two were the ultimate besties which meant where one boy went, the other usually followed. that’s why it had become a norm for the four of you to hang out. like right now, a weekend movie night.
you really didn’t mind seungmin, the boy was nice and treated your roommate well but hwang hyunjin was a whole other story.
hwang hyunjin. sigh. the boy was the literal definition of a fuck boy. an obnoxious frat boy who flirted his way through every living thing in a skirt. yeah, that was a way to describe him.
at first, hanging out with him wasn’t all that bad. you actually didn’t mind him either, the boy was somewhat funny and that face of his was just absolutely breath taking. one of the many reasons why he was so popular around town.
but then he began treating you differently, for some reason. he’d go out of his way to annoy you, to insult you, to tease you. he seemed to suddenly hate you and he made sure to let you know that.
and it had been hell since.
“i’m gonna make more popcorn,” you get off the couch and head towards the kitchen, sighing at the thought of having to spend the rest of the night with hyunjin. classes had already been hell for you so the last thing you needed tonight was a screaming match with the fuck boy.
“don’t do too much thinking, your small brain might explode.”
that voice. that god awful voice.
you turn around to see the devil himself leaning against the kitchen entrance, arms crossed over and a smug grin on his stupid handsome face.
“what? cat got your tongue babe?” he makes his way over to you, cornering you in against the kitchen cabinet, “or have you finally fallen in love with me?”
“fuck off hwang,” you push at his chest but the boy doesn’t budge, only laughing at your weak move, “i’m not in the mood to deal with your shit.”
“what do you have against me anyway?” he leans in closer to you, both his hands now resting on either sides of you on the cabinet, “is it cause i’m so good looking and so popular?”
gulp.
this has to be the closest you’ve ever been to hyunjin, his face barely even an inch away from yours. the smell of his cologne is attacking you from every direction, a very clear indication that he was way into your personal space than necessary.
“no hwang. i hate you because you’re so obnoxious and so self centred!”
“oh really?”
“yes!” your hands push up against his chest again as you say so, preventing the boy from coming any closer to you, “you think everything is about you! just because all the girls on campus wants to fuck you, doesn’t mean you can be such a douchebag all the time!”
perhaps you were crazy but you swear you could see his gaze move from your eyes to your lips as you spoke, the boy clearly not paying any attention to your words. you’re not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet, why he’s not throwing insults at you but the way he’s staring is making you more nervous than ever.
you try to avoid his weird, intense gaze by moving away but the boy stays put, his arms on either sides of you seemingly sliding closer to your body instead.
“mo- move-”
“do you wanna fuck me?”
“what the fuck hyunjin?”
“you said every girl on campus wants to fuck me right? well do you wanna fuck me?”
“of course not!”
“well that’s really too bad,” he scoffs, a playful grin on his face as his hands grab onto your waist, holding you in place, “cause i wanna fuck you though.”
your mouth is frozen, your mind unable to process the words that had come out of his mouth. maybe you were just hearing things because there was no way he had just said what he said to you.
the boy who had made your life a living hell these past two months wanted to what? fuck you?
“you... what?”
“i said, i want to fuck you,” his grip on you tightens with every word, fingers now gripping so harshly into your skin that you’re certain marks will appear by tomorrow morning, “and if you don’t tell me to stop, i am going to kiss you right now.”
gulp.
“th- this isn’t funny. let go.”
you let out a squeal when he suddenly lifts you up onto the cabinet and moves to stand in between your dangling legs. his body is now comfortably pressed against yours, his arms tightly around your waist while yours are resting on his shoulders. it’s a position you wouldn’t have ever imagined you’d be in with him but here you are and you’re not pushing him away either.
“does it look like i’m trying to be funny?” his lips brushes past yours just slightly as he says so, a move you would’ve surely punched him for but at this moment, you don’t know how to react.
so many things are running through your mind, so many different potential reasons as to why he was suddenly acting this way.
“too late baby.”
and his lips were on yours before you could even respond, kissing you with so much force that your bottom lip immediately hurts. the boy is evidently desperate, wanting to taste more of you than just the surface.
his hands casually slides underneath your shirt as he continues to kiss you, causing an instant shiver through your body from his touch alone. you feel as though your body is on fire, every part of you screaming to be touched, to be pleased.
he moves away from you slightly after a bit, just enough for you to catch your breath again. he doesn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time, the intensity of his gaze only causing an embarrasing pool in between your legs. in addition to the pool that was already there during the kiss.
“if you just want to get your dick wet, well you’re not getting shit from me hwang.”
lies. you know for a fact that one more move from the boy and you’ll probably end up on your knees if he told you to.
but he didn’t need to know that.
“actually i’ve been trying for two months but you’re too fucking dense to notice,” he rolls his eyes at you, clearly annoyed, “why else would i spend every single weekend here? you think i really want to watch shitty b grade movies with the lovey dovey couple?”
“wait... what?”
“i flirt with you every single time! as if you really didn’t know!”
“being a dick is your way of flirting?” you make a disgusted face and slap his chest, “how on earth do you get girls everyday being this way?”
“well i haven’t had a girl in two months because the one i want is oblivious as fuck.”
silence.
...
more silence.
“well- well... i-”
“just shut up,” he smashes his lips onto your onces again, this time kissing you in a way that had your knees weak and your body feeling like mush. it’s a slow and sensual kiss, as if the boy is taking his time with you, wanting to feel every part of you.
you end up whimpering into the kiss when one of his hands moves to trace the thin lining of your pants, his fingers teasingly slipping past the band. but to your dismay, that’s all he does.
“hyunjin...”
“yeah baby, i’m right here.”
“oh. my. god,” you and hyunjin immediately freeze at your roommate’s sudden gasp, only to see her and seungmin standing at the entrance, completely disgusted, “i knew you guys would’ve ended up fucking one day but PLEASE not in my kitchen. PLEASE.”
“i told you dude. should’ve just confessed instead of giving me a headache for the past two months,” seungmin sighs dramatically before pulling your roommate away, “whatever, we’re going out. you guys play nicely.”
and the two are gone as quick as they appeared, leaving you and hyunjin alone in the apartment. no one says anything for a while but you don’t care. all you wanted to do was hide in a hole forever after being caught by your roommate and seungmin.
with a sigh, you decide it’d be best for you to get off the cabinet but hyunjin stops you.
“ah- i’m not done with you yet,” he says sternly, holding you in place, “we have a lot to talk about.”
“talk?”
“yeah like where you want me to take you on our first date.”
“who said i’d date you?” it’s your turn to scoff now, amazed at the boy’s confidence, “you wish hwang.”
“who you trying to fool? you were about to let me fuck you right here in this kitchen babe, so i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t say no to a date.”
“hwang hyunjin!”
“yeah baby, i’m right here.”
end.
​2024 © bangchansnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.
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highvern · 19 days
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Green Light
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: smut, hint of fluff at the end
warnings: making out, blowjob, ruined orgasm, minor breath play? (hoshi feels his dick in reader’s throat)
Length: ~3k
Note: well here we are again in 2 days later. thank you @gyuswhore for suffering with me for this. this can be read as a stand alone but is much better after reading part 1 below
series m.list: Houdini [s], Yuck [f], Talk [a, s, f]
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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First dates are something you’re well versed in.
A guise of mindless chatter over dinner, pretending to be interested in the minutia until patience runs thin and someone not so subtly confirms their roommates aren’t home. You know it, you embrace it, and you’ve done it many times.
What you aren’t used to is being tricked into a first date after already getting to the good part.
It’d been a long week of texting that led to teasing another meet up but incompatible schedules and demanding friends kept anything from coming to fruition. 
When Soonyoung asked if you wanted to watch a movie, you assumed it was just an excuse to get you back in his bed without crudely requesting a repeat. It's a Saturday night and well past appropriate hours for anything else. When he asked for your address, you assumed he was already out and was trying to be accommodating. When he said he was waiting downstairs whenever you were ready, you thought he was planning to take you back to his place which worked out because with only ten minutes to prepare, your room resembled a disaster zone you’d rather not have a witness too.
But then he drove fifteen minutes in the opposite direction of his street, and you realize maybe all your assumptions were wrong.
At a red light, the blinker’s rhythm drives you to speak up.
You whip around from the window to face him. “Are you kidnapping me?” 
“I don’t think it counts as kidnapping if you came willingly,” Soonyoung says, turning left when the signal allows.
“That doesn’t matter if you lured me under false pretenses.”
“I asked if you wanted to watch a movie, that's what we're doing.” 
“But your apartment is the other way,” you say like he isn’t aware.
“You know, they have these buildings with huge screens and all they do is play movies there. Really fascinating stuff. Oh, and look! There’s one.”
He pulls into one of the spaces near the back and throws the car in park before exiting without another word. A movie theater. You might as well be on Mars. 
Trailing behind, you stand dumbfounded while Soonyoung pays for tickets and popcorn like this is something normal to do on a Saturday night. For most people it would be. Maybe it is for him. He seems like the date type, even if looks like he rolled out of bed seconds before picking you up. 
You’re wearing sweatpants with nothing underneath for the sake of planting in his lap and watching him fawn over your boobs again, not to sit in a theater for two hours surrounded by whatever weirdos are hanging around this late on a weekend. The thick fabric doesn’t give anything away but you might as well be naked with how exposed you feel. 
Even in the dark, he keeps up the charade; eyes forward, hands to himself except when his fingers brush yours in the popcorn bucket like some corny romcom. He pays attention to the trailers while you stare like you’re witnessing a car crash playout in real time.
When the actual movie starts, Soonyoung lifts the arm rest out of the way, pulling you as close as possible with an arm around your shoulder. He doesn’t even attempt to hide the move in some cheesy stretch, just brings you into the heat of his side like it's normal. You sweat where he presses tight through your clothes. 
You don’t even know what movie is playing except there's some evil guy trying to take over the world while some other guy runs around in spandex trying to stop him and Soonyoung seems to find it fascinating. He’s choosing superheroes over getting laid. If it didn’t bruise your ego you might find the humor in it.
The theater isn’t crowded, not for a Saturday night. Only two other couples sit spread apart in the rows below. They’d have to turn 180 degrees to see you and Soonyoung and even then the high backs on the chairs would hide anything overtly scandalous. 
So you wait until the soundtrack rises to a crescendo just in case anyone becomes alert to your plans. You’ve never sucked dick in public but the idea of Soonyoung struggling to stay quiet while stretching your throat raw is too alluring to ignore. 
And with the way he spreads his thighs, it might as well be an open invitation.
Your hands start at his knee, just the barest amount of weight so he doesn’t scream like a horror movie character. The muscles jump under your nails but not a peep. You don’t even care that you’re staring at Soonyoung head on, completely abandoning the film in favor of watching for his reaction.
A tilt of your chin puts you level with that spot on his jaw you claimed last weekend. There isn’t proof you were there but the way he whined your name from a few harsh rakes of teeth is burned in your brain. He smells great and the warmth rolling of him lulls you further in until your mouth is at his neck.
The barest graze of your lips has Soonyoung jumping but he doesn’t stop you, just curls the arm around your shoulder tighter. Taking advantage, you trail soft kisses in an attempt to make him pliant. 
“What are you doing?” he whispers.
A languid kiss to his pulse. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”
“Like you’re trying—oh.”
The hand at his crotch is snatched away before you can convince him to let you slip beneath the waistband.
“You’ll get us kicked out.”
“Only if you can’t stay quiet,” you argue.
Someone below shushes you two sharpley. You want to throw the bucket of popcorn at their head.
“We both know I won’t.” Soonyoung whispers into your hairline, pinning your hand beneath his against your thigh. “Just wait until later.”
“Seriously?” you scoff.
You’d leave but Soonyoung drove and you don’t want to wait in the cold for an Uber (your bank account doesn’t support the idea either). There is also the promise of getting what you want later that keeps your butt firmly planted in the worn upholstery until the credits roll. You even manage to find interest in the last twenty minutes, and are a little disappointed when the lights come up, only because Soonyoung has been holding your hand, and the stroke of his thumb atop your knuckles isn’t the worst feeling in the world.
When the lights come up and the screen freezes on the final frame, Soonyoung stays planted. Which means you stay planted because where would you go? Something about a post credit bonus scene he wants to see. Maybe he’s into edging.
When the employee tasked with sweeping the sticky, soda stained floors starts circling your row with palpable annoyance, you two finally get up and leave.
“Did you like the movie?” Soonyoung asks, making a face against the cold slapping against your faces as you exit the theater and head to the parking lot. 
“Yeah, it was fine.”
“Next time you can choose,” he says. “Superhero stuff isn’t my thing but I thought it was a safe pick.”
Next time.
Absolutely, under no circumstances, would there be a next time. Because if there is a next time then Soonyoung definitely thinks this was a date which isn’t something you do. Ever. Especially not with guys that may or may not have a tiger fetish. 
You open your mouth to correct whatever silly fantasies are swirling together in his head but stop short. Maybe it's his fingers knotting themselves back between yours or the optimistic smile splitting his face but it feels cruel to crush something so innocent on the asphalt like a cigarette bud under your heel. He’ll figure out your game eventually. No point in racing him towards the conclusion before he’s ready. 
At the far corner of the parking lot, away from any prying eyes or ears, he crowds you into the side of his beat up Jeep. 
“So… it’s later.” His eyes lock on your mouth, eager to indulge in what you offered so readily earlier like you haven’t changed your mind. 
You haven’t but he doesn’t have to know that. 
“Yeah, kinda tired now.” You feign a yawn to hide a smirk at the drop in his features.
“Really?” he drops but tries not to be too obvious. “I can take you home if you want.”
“Yeah, unless,” his ears perk up at the tone. “There's something I should stay awake for.”
There is. It's heavy against your thigh where he has you pinned and makes your mouth water.
Getting into the backseat has you feeling like a teenager again. Clumsy with an elbow bent at an odd angle and your legs tangled as you slip over the center console. The floor is a mess of clothes and other random shit you don’t bother taking a closer look at because Soonyoung’s lap makes a decent seat.
You’re folded in half just to prevent getting a concussion because the roof is low but it's a good excuse to bite along that spot on Soonyoung’s neck that's been tempting you all night. It tastes like satisfaction. 
The cab is silent except for the sound of kissing with too much tongue and all the noises he eagerly supplies like he wants you to make fun of him. Breathy whines and sharp whimpers as he gropes your ass. A hand aids in grinding you against his crotch while the other slips up your sweater.
“You haven’t been wearing a bra this whole time?” he cries.
“Nope,” you hum, nipping at his earlobe to feel his cock twitch against your ass. “Wanna know what else I’m not wearing?”
Something along the lines of ‘I’m gonna pass out’ comes out in a rush as he rushes to discover how wet you’ve been since he picked you up. 
“Oh, fuck.” He groans from the slip of your folds across his fingers. 
“Should have let me suck your dick inside.”
“I know.” 
“Would you have let me?”
“I would have fucked you in that theater if I knew you weren’t wearing panties, good god.” 
A shift of hips lets you pull his cock out from the confinement of his pants. You can’t really see much but the outline with how dark it is, but he’s hard as steel and leaking. Your mouth waters for a taste.
Getting to your knees on the floor proves more challenging than it should. There’s no room so you're forced to balance between kneeling and crouching with a bony knee digging into your ribs. The bathroom would have been far better for this, consequences be damned. Too late now.
“Your car is too small for this,” you say before taking a quick lick at the swollen head peeking through your fingers.
“Never — shit — had any complaints before.”
“Do you fuck a lot of girls in here?” 
He curls in half on the next squeeze, like he might cum already. A reply fizzles on his lips for a few seconds but every time he gets settled to answer you up the stakes; tapping his cock against your tongue until a fresh taste of precum rewards you, raking your nails over his thigh, jerking him off into your mouth. Soonyoung doesn’t blink in fear he’ll wake up and it’ll all turn out to be a dream.
When Soonyoung looks on the verge of spontaneous combustion, you let him speak. 
“Why?” he sighs. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “Are you jealous?”
The idea of him fucking other girls flashes a bolt of something in your veins. Annoyance he’s even capable of thinking of anyone else while you’ve got his dick in your hand, maybe. Jealousy isn’t something a guy you’ve hooked up with once should even be able to hint at. 
“Tell me when you’re close.” The playful tease is long gone from your voice. “And not when you’re already cumming or you’ll never see TamTam again.”
Eyes squeezed tight, he releases another harsh groan. This time to the roof because you’re already tonguing against the raised vein on the side of cock. “Fuck, okay. I can do that.”
You swallow him back down easily. Something in his tone stokes the desire to break him; make him cry from getting his dick sucked in the back of his car in an empty parking lot like a loser.  It gets you wetter knowing how eager Soonyoung would satisfy that urge if you bothered asking. 
He squirms when your nose meets the wisps of hair at his base, cock wedge deep in your throat because you like to show off and know he’ll worship the ground you walk on for it.
“Holy shit.” 
One of his hands sneaks along the back of your neck. Just the weight, probably for his own comfort more than anything else. The idea of him fucking your throat makes you clench. 
You tell him as much when you come up for air.
“You can’t just say shit like that.” Soonyoung moans with a rut through your fist. “Fuck.”
“Why not?”
The innocence in your voice is beyond deceitful. You could probably walk him straight into cumming his pants with words alone. But you wait for an answer while lapping at the tip like it’s candy, staring right up at him through wet lashes. 
“Because,” he winces, hips bucking up from another dig of your thumb. “Your mouth—hmmm.”
You give your thighs a break by rushing up into his space for a kiss. He isn’t shy from taste his own spend in your mouth, hands hot up the front of your shirt once again now that the angle allows. Cruel for the sole purpose of seeing him crumble, you tug off your top and rub his cock against your nipples until he paws at the seat for a crumb of comfort.
“Fuck, oh my god. Where did you—”
He only trails off when you bring his hand to your throat, waiting for him to take firmer hold. You see the light leave his eyes. Mind blank because the offer is too sweet to comprehend. 
You suck him back into your mouth, slowly working down until the curve of his hand circles the bulge in your throat. The odd angle doesn’t lend any comfort but you blink away the dampness at your eyes because Soonyoung is rambling again and its music to your ears.
“Oh! —Oh, shit. That's, wow.” he pants with a gentle squeeze. You aren’t a fan of being choked under regular circumstances but something about how appreciative he is encourages you to treat him with uncharacteristic indulgence. 
“Okay okay, shit, I’m close.”
But not after what he’s put you through tonight.
His hips curl up in a failed attempt as you pull away, desperate to keep the heat of your mouth for a few more seconds to no avail. The only relief you grace him with is a tight squeeze at the head just in case he was closer than he let on. 
You sit up and wipe away the mess of drool and precum from your chin, reveling in the open mouth shock Soonyoung appraises you with. “You can take me home now.”
“But…” he makes a pointed gesture to his cock, soaked and painfully hard in his lap. Maybe you’d feel bad for him, but that's only if he didn’t deserve what you’re doing.
“Call one of those other girls that doesn’t complain to take care of it.”
The drive back to your apartment feels infinitely long in the thick silence. Soonyoung’s eyes are all over your body, probably trying to gauge just how pissed you are. If you give him an inch he’ll take a mile. So you stay quiet and find entertainment by picking at the nonexistent dirt under your nails. 
“Well…this was fun?” Soonyoung supplies as he pulls up to the curb in front of your door.
You don’t even respond. A click of the seatbelt and latch of the door announcing your exit as you beeline for the stairs.
You want to stick to your guns and let him suffer for the comment earlier with blue balls. But you also want to drag him into your room and punish him by proving you’re the best he’ll ever have. You only manage to make it two steps from the car before the latter part wins. 
Spinning around, you throw the door open with enough force to startle Soonyoung. “Are you coming?” 
“Really?” 
“Unless you wanted to go hom—” you turn away. 
“Nope, let's go.” He doesn’t seem to believe the offer. But disbelief doesn’t keep him from jumping up at the offer, cock still straining against his sweatpants and the seatbelt is off with the next blink.
He rounds the hood swiftly, corralling you up the few steps that lead to the front door in haste to finish what started in the back seat. You trip in your own eagerness, lips welcoming his with a lewd lick at the seam that would make your elderly neighbor keel over.
“Soonyoung,” you hum. 
“Hmmm,” he growls into the kiss, pressing you flat against the front door. “Love when you say my name like that.”
“Good to know,” you laugh. “But you left your car on.”
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes
@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos
563 notes · View notes
luveline · 7 months
Note
Helllloooo :) if at all possible, could I request a fic for when stripper!reader realizes that Spencer actually like-likes her? Maybe he finally makes a real move or plans a “fancy” date to show her how much she means to him? She definitely wouldn’t believe him at first/think she deserves it, but if it could be a happy ending, I’d appreciate it so much. 🥺🥺
🐈‍⬛ thank youuuu
ty for requesting <3 fem
He smells like coffee. 
"Hi!" you say, bending under the weight of his hug. 
"What are you," —he drags his face against your cheek— "doing here, I thought you were," —his hand cups your neck as he pulls away— "going to Moira's for the weekend?" 
"You sound so happy," you say, nonplussed. 
"Yeah I'm happy. Do you wanna stay over? We can go to the movies, or we can get takeout, we can do both." Spencer beams at you. "Sorry, I'm– I'm rushing. I'm just happy. Is everything okay? What happened to house sitting?" 
"Oh, nothing, she missed her flight," you say. "Can I come in?" 
Spencer ushers you inside. His apartment is cleaner than usual. He's actually had time to clean, it seems, the faint scent of disinfectant alive in the kitchen and fresh laundry folded on the table behind the couch. He follows your eyes. "I did the stuff you left, last time. But I ended up with like, three pairs of your socks? How did that happen?" 
"You didn't have to." 
"Why wouldn't I?" He goes to walk off but stops, twisting around to give you another hug from the side. "Tea?" 
Your face feels hot. "Yes, please." 
Spencer takes to the kitchen to make tea, one of your shared routines. He grabs the kettle from the cabinet, two mugs, and two teabags. You don't know why you stay in the living room as he fills the kettle. He's putting it on the stove when he says, "Oh, hey, I got you, uh– you liked my soap, right? The chamomile? So I got you some. It's in my room, and I got you some of your chocolates from Leaven." 
"You did?" 
You fail to hide your excitement. Spencer waves you away without looking. "They're with the soap."  
You laugh to yourself, leaning down to pull your sneakers off of your heels. You leave them by the couch and slip over the hardwood into his room, where your promised soap and chocolate sit on one of his desks. He calls them your chocolates, but you only ever tried them because he saw you looking at them one time and bought them as a surprise. You've been hooked on them ever since. 
You're thinking about what joke you can make to hear him laugh. Something on the nose about him ruining your future career aspirations or a flirty nothing, maybe. You just want me to fall out of shape so I can't work. 
The suitcase on the bed distracts you. Open, half packed. 
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask him, chocolates and soap held loosely to your stomach. 
Spencer takes the kettle off of the heat, bringing it to the two mugs to top them one at a time. "What?" 
"Your suitcase?" 
His shoulders tighten just so. "Well, there's this convention happening but I hate driving in the dark, so I figured I'd stay up there." 
"When, tonight?" 
"Yeah." He picks up the mugs and shoots you a smile. "But obviously I'm not going now." 
Obviously? Spencer rounds the side of the couch to sit down, murmuring for you to come and sit with him. You follow his order without question, setting yourself on the couch cushion beside him, and find there's little resistance in you to leave space between your thighs. He leans into you as soon as he's able and hands you your mug. 
There's something in his eyes. A warmth. A real affection. "I'd definitely rather be with you here than without you there. Even if there's a guest speaker who's actually managed to split shared arteries between conjoined twins while they're still in the womb." 
"You're interested in that stuff?" 
"Just for fun." He doesn't drink his tea. He probably didn't want any, a coffee mug already on the table, but he always makes two cups. You think it might be so you don't feel like you're an imposition. He's that special brand of thoughtful. 
"Can I ask you something?" you ask, your heartbeat a tangible thump under your skin. It's a silly question guided by a stupid thought, but you have to ask. You've always wanted to see other people's hands, so to speak, uncomfortable with the unknown. 
"Anything." 
You've exposed the most private parts of you and still it's hard to be vulnerable. It's easier knowing you're with Spencer, but not easy. "Do you like me?" 
Spencer doesn't do either of you the disservice of pretending he doesn't know what you mean. His voice is measured but shyness creeps in, an almost questioning lilt to his words as he says, "Well, yeah. I thought you already knew that." 
"I thought you… appreciated the aesthetic of me." 
"I do." He looks at your forehead rather than your eyes. "You know you're pretty, and your dancing, it's– it's pretty too. I think you're beautiful, but that's really not the only thing about you. You've been remarkably easy to fall for." 
His cheeks are suddenly red. A blotchy staining under his cheekbones and up over the bridge of his nose. He wouldn't lie, but the blush cements that he's telling the truth. Spencer really, truly likes you, enough to buy you the gifts that sit in your lap and to cancel trips. He'd rather stay home with you and drink tea on the couch than be anywhere else. 
"Spence, if you think it was easy for you, you have no idea what it's been like for me," you say quietly. That draws his eyeline back to your face. You smile at him gently. "No idea." 
He puts his mug down on the table to hug you. "Careful of your tea," he says, his smile audible.
You hug his arm to your chest with one hand. When he kisses the side of your head, you're pleasantly shocked. 
"I didn't realise," you say. "Sorry, Spence, I never–" Never thought you'd like me like that. "I didn't know." 
"I was just waiting for you to catch up." 
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bloompompom · 1 year
Text
Safekeeping
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Your brother's best friend learns you don't want to leave for college a virgin, and he thinks he might be able to lend you a hand.
✧ content: ~9.2k word count. 20 y/o eren jaeger x 18 y/o female reader. shameless porn without plot, older brother's friend trope, inexperienced reader/virginity loss, praise, spit, corruption themes, dry humping, guided masturbation, oral sex (f!receiving), protected PIV sex, reader's brother has a name, pet name ('baby'), passing mentions of alcohol/marijuana, explicit sexual content, explicit language, reader discretion advised. 18+ only. ✧ a/n: virginity is a social construct but this is smut so i’m gonna play into it. enjoy ♡ ✧ part two
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You planned to move away to college at the end of the summer, finally. Your school of choice was a three-hour drive from home. To you, it was the perfect distance. Just far enough to give you some much-needed space, but still within reason for a weekend visit if needed. You wouldn’t know anyone there, but that was what you were looking forward to the most, actually. It would be a fresh start.
You never did get the ‘fresh start’ that everyone talked about. You know, the new beginnings that came with every school year. You always tried to be optimistic about it but each time, without fail, your teachers scowled when they saw your last name on their rosters. They all knew your older brother Collin—very well, unfortunately.
His reputation preceded you as a punk who was sent to the principal’s office for acting out in class time and time again. Out of the classroom, too—in the hallways, on the football field after hours. Even in the parking lot when he got into a fender bender with his English teacher his senior year. You were cursed with the same teacher last semester and learned the hard way that she had a habit of holding grudges. 
But that was beside the point. What you were trying to say was: you were ready for college. More than ready. Giddy and practically vibrating with excitement, marking the days off on your calendar until move-in week. Until you could finally quit your lousy summer job at the ice cream shop, waiting on old folk that never knew what they wanted and didn’t bother tipping. 
Still, there was just one teensy little thing you were hoping to get out of the way before freshman year. But now that it was only a few weeks away—twenty-three days, but who’s counting?—it was starting to feel more like a pipe dream.
At the end of the day, there was no point throwing a tizzy over going to college a virgin. Surely, you wouldn’t be the only one.
Right?
Your parents had left for their annual end-of-summer trip down to the beach to visit your grandparents for a week. It used to be a family event, but now that you and Collin were deemed old enough, you had more say in whether you tagged along or not. 
Collin had skipped out the last two summers, but this was the first year you were allowed to stay home, too, now that you were eighteen. But what you didn’t expect was that his three best friends would be there with the two of you—for the better half of the week, at that. Apparently, since they had done it the last two years, it had become a tradition, as they put it. Honestly, you were just impressed Collin was able to pull it off without your parents catching on, considering he was never one to clean the house when you were kids. 
No matter, though; it didn’t bother you much. They had been your brother’s friends since they were in the eighth grade. Having them around was nothing new to you. Of course, it was more fun when you were younger—back when you could play Mario Party together and force Collin to sit out. Now, there wasn’t nearly as much in common besides the occasional tormenting of your brother. 
So, the four of them did their thing, and you did yours.
But therein lies the problem. Even while you minded your business, someone just couldn’t seem to mind theirs. He couldn’t prevent his thoughts from wandering back to you—couldn’t prevent his eyes from lingering longer than they should.
It wasn’t Armin. He would never dare to look at you that way, the girl he tutored in algebra. Nor was it Jean, hopelessly consumed with texting his classmate, still determined as ever to win her over.
No, it was Eren. 'The cute one,’ as coined by you and your friends once he hit his growth spurt and grew out his hair. Though Eren was unaware of the epithet, this would be the year he’d unknowingly return the sentiment, thinking of you as Collin's very cute sister.
Eren was gone last summer, away at an internship, so it had been a couple of years since he’d last seen you. And you appeared to have—ahem—really grown into yourself, to put it delicately. 
Listen, it was harmless. It wasn’t like Eren planned on feeling this way toward you. He didn’t think twice about it when Collin said you’d be at his place, too. And there was no way in hell he’d act on it. He wouldn’t even dare to let the thoughts hang around in his mind, consistently shoving them aside before they could permeate. You were Collin’s—his best friend’s—sister. More than that, you were his little sister! 
He thought he was being discreet about it, but man, did you have to make it so tough? Did you really need to lay out by your parents’ pool every single day? Jeez. As a matter of fact, when was the last time it rained? This had to be the longest they’d been without it, now that Eren was thinking about it.
Back to the point here: Eren was, in fact, not remotely discreet. Armin brought it to his attention as they went to grab another beer. You happened to pop into the kitchen at the same time, just to grab a snack, and damn it, why did you have next to nothing on? Like, yeah, the place was a little warm tonight, and it was your house and all, but seriously—tiny shorts rolled high on your waist and a tank top that looked extra clingy as you reached for a cup on the top shelf? Really?
“You can’t be serious,” Armin grumbled to Eren. Once you were gone, obviously. 
Eren should have known what Armin was referencing, but he was dumb to it, wholly convinced he had been treading carefully. “What do you—”
“You can’t bang Collin’s sister!”
Who even says ‘bang’ anymore?
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second.” Eren innocently held his palms up, waving them as if he could shake off the wicked accusation. “That’s a little far now, isn’t it?”
Armin was getting ahead of himself again; even Eren hadn’t let his mind wander past that boundary… yet. 
Armin gave him a look, like he knew better than to take Eren’s word at face value. “Well, it sure looks like you’re trying to bang his sister.”
“Who’s trying to bang who’s sister?”
Both Eren and Armin jumped at the voice, heads spinning like they were on a swivel to find Collin. He emerged from the basement, Jean trailing behind with a suspicious, low-browed expression.  
“Oh,” Eren stammered. He had to come up with something fast because he wasn’t about to leave it to Armin, the notoriously awful liar. “Armin was just telling me about some porn he watched the other night.” Eren shrugged. “You know, where the guy tries to bang someone’s sister.”
Armin glared at Eren for throwing him under the bus but reluctantly went along with the lie. “Yeah, and then he, uh… bangs the sister?”
Idiot, Eren couldn’t help but think. Whatever, it seemed to work well enough. Collin stared back at them like they were no better than a couple of horny morons. Jean dismissed it, too. Or at least, it didn’t bother him enough to let it interfere with him going for another beer.
With the crisis only half-averted, the four returned to the basement with freshly-cracked cans of beer in tow, where they would spend the rest of the night playing video games until they eventually passed out.
Well, at least three of them did. 
Eren couldn’t sleep, but that wasn’t anything new. He battled with insomnia from time to time. Tossing and turning on a wobbly air mattress didn’t make it any easier to fall asleep, and with the basement only marginally cooler than the rest of the house, he thought he might as well get a glass of water. 
Unluckily (luckily?) for him, he was interrupted before he could do just that. The sight of you, simply existing, lounged up on the couch, startled him. 
Someone’s jumpy tonight. You giggled when he cursed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you doing here?” Eren asked.
You lightheartedly taunted, “Last time I checked, I live here, don’t I?”
He made a face at you, lacking the amusement your voice carried. “You know what I meant. Why are you still awake?”
It was the first time Eren had bumped into you. Not the first time ever, obviously; you had been alone together on countless occasions. But this was different, never this late at night before, and it was the only time it’d been just the two of you since he’d thought about you like that. 
“Do I need a reason?” you airly replied, almost on a yawn as you stretched. “It’s summer break, and I don’t have work tomorrow.”
He didn’t offer more than a nod of acknowledgment before moseying across the room, his hands shoved into his pockets. Unsure of where this was going, you reached for the remote and paused your show.
“What are you guys doing down there?”
“They’re all asleep,” Eren answered. He stood idly in the middle of the room because, like you, he was curious as to where this was heading.
“And you’re not asleep because…?”
No, he couldn’t think like that. This was going nowhere. 
“I came to grab some water,” he hurried to say—or at least, you thought it sounded hurried—and disappeared into the kitchen right after. 
You listened for a moment, fingers dancing on the button of the remote as you debated starting your show again. But when the faucet flicked off, he didn’t return to the basement in the apparent rush he was in. Instead, he stayed there, with you. 
Eren sipped his water, thinking of what to say next. It was an uphill battle because there wasn’t anything to say. There was no reason he needed to start a conversation with you. And yet, there he was, leaned up against the wall, dumbly scratching at his midriff as he racked—
Wait. Were you checking him out?
If there was one thing Eren had learned at college—let’s be real here, he had a nasty habit of skipping class—it was that he did pretty well for himself when it came to girls. Decent enough, he’d say. He at least had enough sense to know when a chick was interested in him. And now that you had creaked that door open, ogled at where his hand had lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach, he didn’t really have another choice but to step inside and explore around. Just a bit. 
Armin’s warning blared in the back of Eren’s head. As luck would have it, his conscience tended to have Armin’s voice. But there wasn’t anything wrong with casual conversation, was there? After all, he had known you for years. 
“So, are you excited to leave for college soon?”
Nope. There was no turning back now. 
You perked up in your seat. “Yeah, for sure. It’ll be nice to go somewhere new. Meet new people, make new friends—”
“Maybe you’ll finally find your Fabio.”
There was a joke there, unfortunately. One you hadn’t heard in so long that you cringed at the memory.
As Collin’s sister, his friends were first-hand witnesses to your boy crazy phase, all your dating flops. Perhaps they had even learned you were quite the hopeless romantic. And by that, you meant Jean had found a smutty novel you had stolen from your mom—yes, it even had the signature Fabio-esque cover, hence the joke. Anyway, he read it aloud in front of your brother and the rest of their friends until Armin snatched the book from him, which somehow made the whole ordeal even worse. 
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you offhandedly chuckled. “I was sort of hoping that would happen before college, but you know—I’m sure plenty of people go to college inexperienced.”
Your voice trailed off there at the end, almost like the notion really bothered you. Eren scrutinized it, this thing you handed him. It was a conversational game of hot potato—something you had shoved his way and forced him to hold onto. Why were you bringing this up? Were you looking for his advice?
Eren set down his glass and moved to sit by you on the couch. The far side of it. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“No,” you blurted out, embarrassed and kicking yourself for having said anything in the first place. But your abruptness sounded just as bad, so with a sigh, you said, “I mean, I guess. I don’t want people to think I’m a loser for being a virgin.”
Again, why were you mentioning this to him? Eren felt like he was playing with fire. He knew he was going to wind up burnt the longer he stayed, maybe even scorching everything around him, even you, in the process. 
Still, he poked it, added some kindling because he was unwilling to let it die out. “I think there’s a fairly simple solution to that.”
“What, getting laid? I think I know that,” you scoffed. “And it’s easy for you to say that, looking like—” You loosely waved your hand over the length of him. “You. Believe it or not, I don’t exactly have suitors lining up outside my door.”
Okay, so he was picking up on something here. He wasn’t crazy. You said it then: you found him attractive. And he found you attractive. Extremely so, if that wasn’t obvious already. The answer was easy enough; he might as well go on say it outright then.
“What if I did it?” Eren suggested.
You didn’t know what he meant by it, his casualness throwing you for a loop. Surely, he couldn’t be talking about that. 
“You know, took your virginity.”
Oh. There was no mistaking it now. He was, without a doubt, talking about that. 
And why were you considering it?
Your brother’s friends, Eren included, had taught you all sorts of things before, things they probably shouldn’t have. They told you to flush the toilet to mask your squeaky front door if you planned on sneaking out. Taught you how to roll a joint, and how to take a proper hit after you confessed you had never ‘felt high’ when you smoked. So, would this be any different?
While you mulled it over, Eren took the far-away look behind your eyes as a horrible sign. He realized how insane the proposition sounded once he spoke it into existence. Before he could take it back, play it off as a joke—he had one too many beers, that’s all—you piped up.
“Really?”
He certainly didn’t expect that, stammering, “I—yeah. Why not?”
Another lengthy pause passed before you accused, “Are you just fucking with me?”
“No, no! I wouldn’t.” He started rambling then, a jumbled mix of ‘I just—’ and ‘I shouldn’t have—’ until you decidedly cut him off.
“Okay.”
“Huh?”
“I said okay. You can… take my virginity.” It felt like a strange way to say it, too formal. And to say it to Eren of all people, who would have guessed it?
Then again, maybe this was the most logical outcome. It wasn’t like you needed to make a big deal of losing your virginity. You weren’t looking for something romantic, with rose petals or a waterbed or any of that corny-porny crap. You were just looking to get it out of the way. That way, when you inevitably meet the love of your life in college (okay, so maybe you were a hopeless romantic), you wouldn’t embarrass yourself the first time you hooked up. 
“Okay,” Eren replied on his inhale, a breath sucked through his teeth, like it was a sin to say aloud. 
He scooted closer, sitting on the cushion that once separated you. You expected him to kiss you, even leaning into him with closed eyes, but your lips barely brushed into his. He didn’t come any closer than that.
Lowly, he asked you, “Do you trust me?”
You nodded. Your noses bumped.
“I need to hear it.”
“I trust you,” you said, even quieter than him. You could barely hear it over the sound of your heart, thumping so hard you swore it might burst into your throat.
Eren kissed you then, tentatively, with his hand cradling the side of your face. He didn’t move until you did, and when you returned the kiss, he followed while letting you take lead.
It didn’t last long, though. You jumped away from each other, back to the opposite sides of the couch, when the basement door squeaked open. The panic subsided when you caught the bright eyes of your family’s cat, her little head poking out from the shadows.
You held a hand to your chest, steadying your breath and trying to settle your rapid heartbeat, as if both were possible. When you met Eren’s gaze, he was already staring at you with a brittle sort of look. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did he regret what he had done with you? You didn’t, and you prayed he didn’t either.
Before you had the chance to ask, he finally said, “Should we go to your room?”
“Good idea.”
He knew where your room was, but still, he followed right behind you anyway. At the top of the staircase, just before your bedroom door, you split. You turned to see Eren sneaking into Collin’s room. A minute passed while you listened to his rustling, but when he returned, held between his two fingers was that infamous, shiny foil.
You frowned, hard. “I’m not going to use one of my brother’s condoms.”
“Do you have one then?” Eren asked, already well aware of your answer.
“Fine.” 
Eren had never been in your bedroom before. It felt foreign, and weirdly wrong, to have him in there. He looked out of place for it, too big, too mature, especially as you looked at all your girlish knick-knacks and old photos. You wished you could tuck everything away into some lonely drawer. 
You avoided Eren’s eyes and fixed your attention on adjusting the lights. Your bright ceiling light was far too unforgiving for this, so you switched it out for your bedside lamp. The drone of the old bulb buzzed in the back of your ears, its light a fizzy yellow.
You were nervous. Eren didn’t need to see your face to know it was written all across it. Not that it surprised him, considering this was about to be your first time having sex, and it would be with him. 
He felt his heart drop into his stomach, the sick feeling you get on a rollercoaster, but somehow you want to ride again. Maybe he was just as nervous as you. You had put your trust in him, enough to take your virginity. Handing it to him as if it were some sentimental treasure he could watch over, for safekeeping. 
Sure, he knew the optics were bad. Not just bad but horrendous, actually. He was about to sleep with his best friend’s younger sister, a recently eighteen-year-old virgin. The whole situation sounded no better than a second-rate porno—like the one he had made up with Armin in the kitchen, ha!
This was as much a blessing straight from heaven as it was a curse. But he couldn’t care about the optics now, not with you taking a seat on the bed, looking over at him with these come-and-get-me eyes that may or may not have been intentional. 
No, this wasn’t a curse at all. If it were so wrong of him, then why was it that he already felt his cock straining against his sweats at the mere thought? The thought of how delicate he’d be with you. He needed to be, for the last thing he wanted was to ruin your first time. He’d be the first to show you what pleasure could be with another person—what you were deserving of before going off and letting other boys touch you.
He set the condom on the nightstand and joined you at the edge of your bed, his knee barely grazing yours. He was about to ask if he could kiss you again, but you entirely side-skipped any conversation by picking up right where the two of you had left off. 
Again, Eren relinquished control to you, but he did take the initiative to swipe his tongue into your mouth. You tasted him, the bittersweet flavor of light beer. He was nothing like the last boy you kissed. He didn’t ram his tongue down your throat but kissed you as though he wanted to taste you, to muse over and memorize you. And you let him, lips languidly caressing one another with little point or purpose, solely running on instinct. 
You balled his shirt in your fist, twisted the fabric of it between your hands to have him close—closer. He hoisted you onto his lap with his hands at your waist, and you went along with him more than willing. You draped your hands over his shoulders, crossing them at the wrist, and didn’t let your lips break from his once. 
He smoothed his palms up and down the small of your back until he eventually ventured lower. He gripped at your ass, pulling you down to grind over him. Just once, so you could feel him, how achingly hard he was for you. Then, you did it again all on your own. Lightheaded and teeming with desire, the pressure against your clit, even through your layers of clothing, was an addicting relief. You moved against him, again and again, until you were dragging yourself over him, practically about get off from that alone. 
But Eren didn’t let that happen. Before you get there, Eren used his hold on your hips to stall you. His voice was a mumble against your mouth as he asked you, “How far have you gone?”
“This,” you professed. “This is the farthest I’ve gone.”
Fuck.
“Okay.” It was the word of the night. Eren breathed it out like he was talking to himself. The type of sigh you’d give yourself in the mirror when trying to calm down, which was precisely his goal.
He lifted you with little effort, had you lie back into the pillows before he crawled on top of you. He kissed at your jawline, then placed another on the side of your neck. He left a few of them there. It was all lip, all wispy, like he could break you. Still, you felt each of them like a spark at the base of your spine. 
His fingers trailed lower, tickling over your collarbone but stopping short of the neckline of your tank top. 
“Is it all right if I touch you here?” he asked, punctuating it by running a hand down your breast, over your shirt.
“Yes,” you whispered with a shudder. 
With the confirmation, he massaged lightly, his thumb caressing over your perked nipple. 
He kissed you again, his tongue meeting yours while he rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your back arched instinctively, wanting more—needing more. He listened to your body, learning as he went, and tugged down your tank top. With nothing between you, he lightly pinched at your nipple, pulling a whine from you, one that didn’t get the chance to meet the air.
Eren kissed the side of your face. “Can I kiss you there?” he muttered, referencing your tits as he gave another squeeze. He pressed another kiss, lower, against your throat.
“Mhm,” was all you managed with a voice that was long gone, lost somewhere in the opened-mouth kisses he left along the dip between your chest. 
It tickled a bit when he flicked over your nipple with his tongue—even more when he latched onto it with his mouth. You were wiggly beneath him, driving him wild, and you didn’t even know it. It was sweet how sensitive you were, his mouth being the first to kiss you there, to learn the taste of your skin. So soft. And warm, too, heating up the longer he sucked at your tits, anywhere he pleased.
Eren kept his hand at your waist, palming over your stomach but never risking any lower than that. His touch was heated, urgent, yet he only showed restraint. 
He pulled back from you, letting his face hover inches above yours when he asked, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”
He was strangely calm for asking such a personal question, setting your face ablaze. Too rushed, you replied, “Of course I have.”
What did he think? That because you were a virgin, you hadn’t thought about sex before? Hadn’t ever watched porn? Yes, you hadn’t actually done it, but it wasn’t as though you were heading into the situation blind.
“Then—” You, the sight of you wriggling out of your sleep shorts, interrupted him. You caught the bob of his throat when he swallowed, but you weren’t sure he was trying that hard to hide it. “Show me how you do it.”
Eren sat back on his knees, just shy of sitting between your legs as you rested against the pillows. The only thing separating him from you was a thin pair of panties. You hoped he didn’t notice your jittery fingers as you slipped them beneath the band.
You started, “This is—”
“It’s not embarrassing,” he interrupted. It only made you more anxious, like he could read your mind or something. But he was genuine as he said it, assuring you even while struggling to maintain eye contact, his attention flitting from your face to between your legs. “Show me how I can make you come.”
How could he possibly be so open about this? There wasn’t even a shred of hesitation or shame in his voice. You wondered how many people he’d been with—how many times he’d rehearsed before he could speak with such confidence? Enough confidence to have you listening loyally and plunging your hand beneath your underwear. 
You pressed the pads of your fingers against your clit and started to rub. Slowly at first, but already, just that smidgen of relief was enough to pull a flimsy sound from you. You were sensitive, throbbing, and so incredibly turned on that you didn’t hide even as he unabashedly stared at you with pure infatuation. 
Eren rested a hand on your leg, sliding higher and reaching for your panties. “Can I take these off?”
You stopped only to help him work them down your leg, shimmying until he had them thrown to the foot of the bed. You were hesitant to spread your legs again, but he did it for you, placing one at each of his sides. He took your hand and returned it between your thighs, eager for you to continue. So you did just that. 
There wasn’t any doubt he could see everything now—how wet you were, how it coated your fingers the longer you rubbed, the tighter your little circles became. But you were too wrapped up in it to care, playing with yourself just as indecently as you would if you were alone. You couldn’t even be bothered to stifle the chant of gasps spilling from you.
“Can you put a finger inside for me?” Eren requested.
You nodded and pushed one inside, felt how you pulsed around it. You moved it in and out, the same way you had done many times before. 
“Yeah, like that,” he murmured. You heard the ‘fuck’ he cursed under his breath. “How’s that feel?”
“Good,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.
“Try a little faster.”
You did just that and bit back a whimper.
“Add another.”
He needed you stretched. He needed you ready for him. 
You took your second finger well; you had done that before, too.
“You’re doing so good,” he told you. He leaned into you, closing in. “Can I help you now?”
“Please,” you breathed. You slipped your fingers from you, giving Eren access to do with you as he wished.
But he didn’t reach for you. Not there, at least. He held his fingers before your mouth.
“Open up.”
You weren’t sure what he was after, but you obeyed, lusty enough that you found you were trusting him implicitly. He placed his middle and index fingers against your tongue, telling you, “Get them nice and wet for me.”
You sucked on them lightly. Saliva pooled on the back of your tongue as he pressed down. He pulled them from your mouth with a lewd sound and smiled at you. It made your chest swell a bit.
Eren returned to your side. His presence was engulfing as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. It surprised you, the intimacy of it, but you didn’t have any time for second-guessing before he urged, “Keep going.”
You returned to circling your clit as his hand met yours. He traced his pointer finger through you, and every muscle in your body tensed.
“Can I?”
“Yes,” you said, practically a moan.
He slipped it inside you, taking his time with it. His finger was much larger than your own, thicker, reaching deeper than yours had ever gone. Your stomach tightened at the intrusion, trying to adjust. 
“That okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” It was better than okay. “More. Please.”
Eren chuckled warmly. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curving it just right to have you squirming in his arms. You were beginning to understand why he was holding you now. He wanted to keep you still so that, once he figured out what you liked, he could maintain his pace through your needy bucking. 
He had a hand on your head, petting over you as he asked, “You close?” You couldn’t respond because he added a second finger. A hiss left you, but it melted into a satisfied whine. “Yeah?”
“Y-yeah,” you whispered against him, his body dizzyingly hot even through his T-shirt. 
It was becoming quite the task to keep your fingers moving, what with Eren’s fingers hitting a spot that you didn’t even know existed, over and over again. It had you—fuck—it had you coming. So hard that you thoughtlessly rode his hand, eyes screwing shut as you fucked yourself deeper on his fingers, prolonging the bliss however you could until you turned to goo in his arms. 
You were panting against his chest, your body still twitchy, when he started to ask, “Did you—”
“Yes,” you said on a drawn-out exhale. 
He pecked your forehead. You still felt the stamp of it as he moved to get back on top. He held himself above you with hands planted on either side of you, kissing you full on the mouth. Still hazy, you didn’t move much, letting him make out with you all he wanted until his lips traveled down to the dip behind your ear, then the delicate crook of your neck.
He bunched your tank higher up your chest until you both tore it over your head. With it out of his way, Eren continued kissing lower—even lower than before. His breath tickled over your nipples, leaving you a needy, rutting mess—for what exactly, you didn’t know, just more.
“Too much?” Eren asked, looking up at you with his big, green eyes.
“No,” you assured, your mouth agape and in awe of him. “I like it.”
He pressed his smile against your skin, kissing and licking his way down your sternum.
When he reached your navel, you asked, “What are you—”
“Making sure you’re ready.” He kissed your hipbone.
“It’s really okay,” you said, slightly wary. “We should just get this over with, right?”
“What if I don’t want to get this over with?” Eren kissed just above your slit. “What if I want to take my time?”
Eren wanted you as comfortable—as relaxed—as possible. And since he was already about to fuck his friend’s younger sister, with one of his condoms nonetheless, he certainly wasn’t going to dig around for his friend’s lube next. Luckily, there was another, more fun, way that he could ensure you were properly lubricated so as to avoid any pain that may arise from him splitting you on his—
Focus. 
“I need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t,” Eren said, a reminder more to himself than for you. 
You gasped, almost choked, when he kissed the top of your thigh, then the inner part of it. 
“Can you do that for me?”
“Eren, I—” 
“Please.” He licked a broad stripe up the crease of your thigh. That alone had your head thrown back against your pillow, a tiny ‘oh’ escaping you. “Let me. I want to.”
“You do?” you timidly asked.
“So badly,” he replied, but it sounded more like an admission. A white flag of surrender, like he was letting himself fully give in to his desires because, yes, he had thought about this before. There was no use in lying about it now. 
“O-okay.”
On that, he returned to teasing his way between your legs, kissing from the delicate flesh of your inner thighs to—
“Wait!” you interjected. Eren immediately looked to you like he had done something wrong, but you quelled his worry with, “Can you get undressed, too? Like, at least your shirt.”
Your request didn’t sound nearly as self-assured as his, but he listened to you nonetheless. He sat back to peel off his shirt. He smiled at you softly. “Better?”
You scanned over his toned torso, sun-kissed and tanned from summer. Definitely better. “Thanks.”
He leaned over you, his mouth inches from your pussy as he murmured, “It’ll feel good.” Then he kissed your entrance, and the sensation of it jolted through your body like lightning. “Promise.” 
Eren parted you with his fingers before licking through you, letting the newfound feeling sink in deep. His tongue was warm, wet, and exceedingly gentle—nothing like his fingers or even your own. You couldn’t begin to describe it, but that might be because, after a second lap of his tongue, you were already losing any and all coherency. 
You made a few strained sounds, flowery and pathetic, but supported yourself on trembling elbows to watch. When you met Eren’s eyes, he only stopped licking at you to say, “Tell me what feels good.”
“Everything.” The word tumbled out of your mouth desperately. “Everything feels good.”
You felt his laugh just before he closed his mouth back over you. He continued having his way with you, sucking and licking at you, saliva and slick making a mess of his pretty face as he staggered kisses between his laps. Whenever his lips brushed against your clit, your legs would flex tight. He hooked his arms around them, laying them over his strong shoulders. You felt the way his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, locking them in place while he circled his lips around your clit with more pressure than before.
“Ah—oh,” you moaned, your back leaving the bed to press your pussy further into his face, as if you could have him any closer—you know, until you’d have him inside you. But that would come soon enough.
Eren didn’t ask this time; he knew exactly how he was making you feel. And you were thankful for it because you couldn’t dream of him stopping. You needed more, lacing a hand through his locks and pulling lightly, encouraging him. He groaned against you, clearly liking it, so you did it again.
He was sloppy with it while still… thoughtful? That didn’t feel like the correct word for it, but even as he made out with the most intimate part of you, he did it with intention, doing that thing again, whatever it was, with his tongue pointed, because he had quickly learned you liked it. No, he showed you that you liked it. Loved it, actually; it was excruciatingly evident by the breathless sounds you made. 
And when Eren paired his tongue with his sucking lips, swirling it against your clit, you came with your own hand clamped over your mouth. Your entire body gained a pulse of its own. It was much stronger than your first orgasm and longer-lasting, too. The muscles of your stomach wound and released while you rode out your high, Eren groaning against you just as pleasedly. 
Only once you were no longer propped on your elbows but flopped against the bed did Eren let up. Your thighs were still trembling as he kissed a pathway back to your side. You both sat with heaving chests, though yours much heavier than his, and you were beginning to question how you were supposed to go for another round. You hadn’t even reached the—for lack of a better word—main event yet. Truthfully, you expected Eren to throw you to your bed, pop your metaphorical cherry, and be done with it. But now you had already orgasmed twice and he still had his sweatpants on. 
You should probably do something about that, shouldn’t you?
“I wanna touch you, too.”
While innocent, it was the most you had communicated with him this far, so he didn’t stop you when you reached for him. He was more than ready for it. 
You explored him a bit, tracing over his length and discovering what touches made him twitch beneath your touch, still as chaste as ever. 
“Show me,” you purred.
It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do—a hand job was far from rocket science. It was more like if you had to show him yours, then you wanted to see his. You wanted to watch. 
Eren tugged his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock sprung out, nearly slapping against the low part of his abs. Already, his tip was wetted, needy for anything after going untouched this long, even if it was his own hand. 
He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, working his fist over his cock, faster, until he was jerking himself off for you. His breath, fanning just above your head, went from steady to ragged, his chest tight.
You watched him for a moment, already needing to touch him. You pushed yourself upright, perched so that your knees brushed against his thigh, ready to take him with both hands. 
“Hold on.”
You glanced at him. He fidgeted, like he was about to say something but retracted it immediately. He sounded hesitant, looked even more hesitant, when he asked, “Can you—can you spit in your hand first?”
“Oh, um.” You looked at your open palm and tried your best to collect some saliva in your mouth. It was a little daunting, knowing he was watching as you did it, but he didn’t seem to mind. 
No, he definitely didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. But he wouldn’t admit that to you right now. 
You took him in your hand, mimicking how he did it, with a loose wrist and your grasp slightly firm. When you squeezed over his tip, you heard the sharp inhale it pulled from him, noted how his pelvis flexed. Eren’s hand closed over yours. He was going to show you exactly how he liked it. 
Eren moved your hand for you, gripping it whenever you reached the head of his cock. His pinched breaths turned into groans, his brows hanging low over his keen eyes. That was when he started thrusting, fucking your hand, and nearly forgot where he was—forgot whose hand he was using like his own personal toy.
“Spit on it,” he grunted, that temperate side of him growing unrestrained. 
He didn’t mean to come off so crass, not in front of you, not this soon. It was just that Eren couldn’t remember the last time he came from a handjob, but he was nearly there, with your hands so dainty and velvety around him. Not to mention the spit dribbling from your pretty lips before you spread it down his cock—he was about to lose his last smidgen of composure. 
Thankfully, he remembered the reason why he was here. He had a much bigger agenda than fucking your hand. How could he have forgotten already that he was here for you?
“That’s—ah, shit.” Selfishly, Eren waited for another second before releasing your hand. You continued stroking him eagerly, and it felt wrong to stop you, but he did just that with his hand around your forearm. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep going.”
“Sorry,” you said, your hands now politely to yourself and folded on your lap.
With a short, huffing laugh, he told you, “You do not have to apologize for that. Believe me.”
His chuckle had you smiling again. That closed-mouth, coy smile that he was quickly learning might become the death of him. He straightened out, taking your chin between his fingers to kiss you again.
“Lay back for me,” he whispered. 
You fell into the mess of pillows and tangled sheets, making yourself comfortable while Eren fetched the condom. You didn’t know what the feeling was—trepidation, anticipation, excitement, perhaps all three—but it bubbled in your stomach as you watched him rip the wrapper before rolling on the latex.
He pumped himself a few times as he reminded, “We can stop at any time if you need.”
Eyes wide and fixed onto him—specifically on his cock, which he’d soon gape you on—you asked, “Do we need a safe word?”
He laughed again, through his nose like earlier, but only because you were so agonizingly cute about it. “I think ‘stop’ will work just fine.”
You did that smile again, winding the knot in his stomach more than he even thought possible. Eren was so close to snapping—not like that! Not hurting you, never. More like coming undone, turning into a puddle of himself, finishing humiliatingly early—that sort of snapping. He didn’t know what had him feeling this way, but something about you made him feel like the virgin here. 
He didn’t dare push inside yet, not only for your sake but for his. His eyes, now brazen and alert, scanned over you, staring you straight in the face like a silent check-in. And when you gave him the go-ahead, nothing more than a bobble of your head, slowly, he tilted his hips into yours. 
With you unbelievably tight around him, he stilled with only his tip inside you. Even so, his breath had already hitched in his throat. He couldn’t hold back, he simply couldn’t. And when he gave you a little more, between his eyes flittering shut, he caught the scrunch of your nose. 
There was a stretch, a certain fullness. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it didn’t exactly feel like he belonged in there, either. It was considerate of him to take his time with you, prep you with his fingers and tongue. But even so, with his cock only halfway inside, you had your nails dug deep into his biceps. 
“How’re you doing?” Eren asked. 
“I’m—” You glanced at where your bodies were connecting. There was still more of him to take. “Okay.”
It didn’t appear like he believed you, which was fair because it was a shaky statement at best. “It’s too much?”
“A little,” you sheepishly admitted. 
He pulled out of you, and even that made you wince. Your shoulders dropped back to the mattress, every muscle in your body easing up now that he wasn’t bullying inside you. 
"Here.” Eren rolled onto his back. He guided you on top of him, set you so your knees straddled his waist, his cock resting between your legs. Somehow, it looked even longer like that, laid upon his abs. “Let’s try it like this.”
Like this? It felt incredibly vulnerable from up here, where he could see you—in all your glory—bouncy above him. Plus, you hardly knew what you were doing; you had just given your first handjob! If you were being honest, you thought you’d just sort of lay there and take it from him, and now he was expecting you to ride him? It was intimidating, to say the least, even if Eren tried to assure you it wasn’t.
“You have total control this way.”
That was the exact thing you feared. You didn’t want any control. What if you did something wrong? 
Apparently, you didn’t do a great job at masking your worry because Eren immediately placed his hands on your hips, not taking them in his grasp but rubbing his thumbs encouragingly against your skin. 
The entire point of this was to trust him. That was why you were doing this—losing it to Eren, someone who wouldn’t make fun of you. That way, when it really mattered, you wouldn’t royally fuck up. And after getting this far, there was no chance in hell you would end the night a virgin. Well, half-virgin.
Ready to try again, you drew a deep breath, lifting yourself to your knees. Before you reached for him, like the new sexpert that you were, you spat in the palm of your hand, not minding Eren’s eyes this time. You stroked over the condom, mixing its lube with your saliva, then lined his cock up with you. 
Carefully, you sat down. He only reached as deep as before, but the pressure was nowhere near what it once was. You rolled your hips, testing different angles to see what worked best—how you could get more of him, all of him, inside you. 
Eren curved a hand around the nape of your neck, cooing, “Come here.”
He brought you in for a kiss—more than a kiss—his tongue immediately licking into your mouth the second your lips crashed into his, tasting every one of your contented, little hums.
He snaked a hand between your legs, lazily thumbing over your clit until your lips were unable to match his fervency. It was more like you were moaning against his mouth, right into it, sharing each of his breaths until your cheeks sweltered. He melted you from the inside out, softening you up like butter until you were flush against his pelvis—as easy as that. Cautiously, you started rocking your hips.
“That’s it,” Eren whispered into the corner of your mouth.
With quivering arms, you held yourself up with your palms pressed into his chest. Perched proudly atop him, the tip of his cock reached deeper, filling you deeper than anything else had before. It stole your breath, almost like you felt him in your throat.
Eren admired how your mouth fell into an adorable ‘o’ before you started moving. As though a switch had flipped, you were suddenly rolling your hips against him—slowly, of course—repeatedly having him hit that delicious spot again as you indulgently chased after your third orgasm.
“You’re doing so good, taking me well for—for your first time.”
Shit. Eren remembered he was taking your virginity. 
He inhaled sharply, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his voice gave way, or how his cock jolted inside you when he realized he was the first to have you like this. His cock was the first to fill you, stretch you, mold you to accommodate him. Only him. 
“Do what feels good for you, baby.”
The pet name slipped past him before he could wrangle it back, but you didn’t seem to catch it. Or, at least, you didn’t mind. 
No, you were too busy to hear him, more occupied with getting a feel for what you liked best. Eren let you use his cock freely because—what, was he supposed to stop you? Fuck no. He would let you continue forever if you desired it, so long as you’d continue gifting him with such lovely and lewd expressions—the sweet curl of your lip, the knit of your determined brows as your thighs had surely started to burn.
But, boy, it was quite the challenge, letting you have your way with him. You could only keep your pace for a moment or two before you’d take a break. Such a fucking tease, and you didn’t even know it. It was endearing how worn out you were from everything that came before this, and all Eren wanted was to dig his heels into your bed, pound away at that tight pussy of yours, and show you just how wonderful he could make you feel. 
It was a test of strength for him, whether he could hold back or not, because finally, you looked like you were enjoying yourself on his cock. You took him with short strokes, a simple tilt of your hips back and forth once you realized you could grind your clit into his pelvis.
He could tell you were close, from the way you fluttered around him to the gasps getting caught in your throat from the added, and absolutely euphoric, pressure. 
“Just like that. Keep going. Make yourself come for me.” 
The gravel in Eren’s voice pushed you closer to the edge. There was a growl to it, and you could feel it vibrate through you. You tossed your head back with a cry loud enough to wake a neighbor as you shoved a hand between your legs, desperate to come. 
Eren shushed you dotingly, but there was a grin on his face as he placed his sticky palm against your mouth. “Can’t let them hear us now, can we?”
He felt your heady breath as you panted, trying to reach your peak. When you couldn’t ride him any longer, your hips an erratic sputter, he beamed up at you, slack-jawed smile and all, and said, “Feel good? Need some help?”
Too overwhelmed, you couldn’t even nod your head. You babbled uselessly.
“Want me to fuck you, just a little? Get you coming on my cock?”
“Yes, please—oh, God, Eren.”
When he started to move, thrusting into you ever so slightly, you were already scratching your nails down his chest. It was no bother to him, though. He only wanted you to do it again.
When you came, you squeezed him so perfectly that he thought he might explode. It was taking his last bit of self-control to fuck you at such a steady and slow pace when, in reality, he only wanted to hammer into you. Eren felt like he was moments away from boiling over. His face was burning, and he could feel the sweat beading in his hairline from this aching, pent-up desire within him. After fingering you, going down on you—no, after days of fantasizing about you—he needed release.
Even you could see it—the unmistakable flush of his face now spreading to the base of his neck and spanning his chest. As blissed out as you were, limply collapsed on top of him, you mumbled against his skin, “Eren, I want you to come, too.”
And how could he turn that down? Now that you had come three times, he figured he could finally have his turn. 
“I’m gonna go a bit faster now. You tell me if that’s okay or not.”
Before he could even flinch, you assured him, “It’s okay. I want you to.”
The soft laziness of your voice, the dreaminess seeping through it like syrup—it was too much. 
Eren took you by the hips first, holding your body pliant for him to thrust into. He started with long drags of his cock, letting his tip kiss your entrance before stuffing himself back inside you. Each time he bottomed out, he bit back every vulgar curse he wanted to hiss into your ear. 
Then, he flattened his hands against your back, folding you into him with his palms seared into your shoulder blades. Your face was smothered in the crook of his neck as he fucked up into you. The bed began to squeak, like a mockery of your tiny bleats.
“You all right?” Eren asked, his voice hoarse.
You only made an affirmative sound that got muffled as you burrowed against him. With your chest warm, like a tingling between your lungs, and your head stuck somewhere in the clouds, you took him in a speechless, almost surreal, bliss. How fiercely he needed you, if only for a blip in time, was intoxicating.
And in that fleeting moment, the sin of it, the forbiddenness surrounding you, had vanished. Eren was sure it would rear itself again, that was for certain. He could predict the ripple of guilt that’d course through him once he inevitably faced what he’d done. But even if it meant betraying his best friend, he couldn’t find it within himself to regret it.
Especially when he realized how fucking good it felt to come inside you. With his arms locked around your waist, your entire body smushed against his, he snapped his hips into you, as if he could possibly fuck you any deeper. He emptied himself into the condom as a groan tore through his throat, the hum of it against the shell of your ear like a final shudder down your spine. 
He pulled out of you, faintly cursing as he did. You flopped at his side, entirely spent, and stared at the ceiling with fuzzy, unfocused vision. The rush of adrenaline was on a steep comedown, and you were already starting to feel it. Sore, but extremely satisfied. 
“You should probably go to the bathroom—to pee and stuff,” Eren said, that familiar, boyish side already returning in full force. 
Pee. Got it.
You only muttered a ‘yeah’ before you redressed and tip-toed off to the bathroom down the hallway. There, you wiped yourself clean, forced yourself to pee, and gave yourself a good long look in the mirror.
In just one night, you had hit every base. By definition, a home run, in your book—and with your brother’s ‘cute friend,’ at that. 
You were shocked to see Eren was still there when you returned to your bedroom. He had on his boxers and tee already, stepping into his sweatpants as you opened the door. He gave you a soft smile as you hopped into your bed. 
Then, even more surprisingly, he asked, “Do you want me to stay?”
Eren knew he should leave unless he hoped to get caught. Still, he thought it was the right thing to say.
You giggled, “I think my brother would kill you if he found you in here.”
He laughed along with you, but when it settled, he crawled beneath your sheets anyway.
Though you felt uncertain about it, he consoled it away with, “Don’t worry. I’ll just hang here until you fall asleep.” You at least deserved that.
He turned the light off and let you rest your head against his chest, your arm looped around his waist. You didn't know where the urge to cuddle came from, and neither did he, but he didn't question it. It was comfortable, even as he waited for that pang of guilt to hit.
But it never did. And once he heard your breathing taper to a peaceful drone, he slipped out of your bed and snuck back down to the basement. That stupid air mattress felt a whole lot more comfortable now.
Finally, Eren had scratched the itch he couldn't kick, just to get it out of his system. Now, there was absolutely no way he'd think of you again—not that kittenish little smile nor how you curled against him in your sleep—and definitely not while you were three hours away at school…
Right?
✧ continue to part two ✧
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astonmartinii · 11 months
Note
hey hey:) don’t know if you do requests but i was wonder if you could do a lando smau where the reader is scotty james’ younger sibling and is a snowboarder too?
frost bitten | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x james!reader
lando is dating scotty james' younger sister, all is well until some on track beef causes some problems at home.
yourusername
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tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo
yourusername: when you're in a third wheeling competition and your opponent is me with lando and daniel
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user1: the stroll x james x norris x ricciardo family is so confusing but i love it
landonorris: when i'm in a being a cutie patootie competition and my opponent is y/n y/ln
yourusername: you're forgiven for not playing uno with me on the plane
landonorris: you know we're not allowed to play uno or monopoly in an enclosed space after the inchident
yourusername: i thought you'd make an exception for me
landonorris: you know i would, it's danny we have to worry about
danielricciardo: i don't know why i'm catching strays when you're the one who tried to commit grievous bodily harm over a +4 card
landonorris: THAT WAS ONE TIME
user2: the james family are so blessed with genetics it's crazy
mclaren
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mclaren: lando and oscar are wrapped up warm with ice queen y/n james in the garage with us this weekend. the two time x-games winner and olympic gold medalist snowboarder is our special guest this weekend in barcelona.
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user3: so do all the teams just have joint custody of the james siblings?
astonmartin: some would say our catering is the best though
mclaren: y/n would have to disagree
redbullracing: i think we ALL know that we have the best catering
user4: the way they still introduce y/n as a snowboarder not lando's girlfriend
user5: i mean that is her profession
yourusername: i loved it as usual <3
landonorris: just cause i was there
yourusername: idk... oscar's coffee bangs
landonorris: i can think of something else of mine that bangs
oscarpiastri: THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE
user6: did they invite her so she could show lando how to actually win?
yourusername: first of all, BOOOOOO, second of all, thanks i'm going to steal that for whenever he's mean to me
landonorris: i've factually never been mean to you ever
yourusername: you literally tripped me this morning
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yourusername
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tagged: landonorris
yourusername: proud of you always
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user10: i'm so gutted for lando, all that work to get on the front row only be taken out by no fault of his own
landonorris: i love you baby
yourusername: i love you too, it'll come to you soon, karma always prevails
user11: y/n talking about karma as if it isn't her soon-to-be brother-in-law
user12: she's always been the messy james sibling and we love her for it
user13: is she wrong though
mclaren: we'll come back stronger
yourusername: look after my boy, please
user13: fair play my guy got shunted but why are we acting like he's been murdered?
yourusername: lando has worked so so hard this season despite all the set backs so apologies if the first chance he got to prove himself was taken from him
scottyjames: can we like not text each other? why are you airing out the family business
yourusername: i'm not airing anything out, if anything you're doing exactly that by putting your two pence in
scottyjames: sorry for thinking my sister might have finally grown up and might have an adult conversation
yourusername: stop acting holier than thou like you don't curse everyone else out
user14: anyone else feel like we shouldn't be reading this?
comments on this post have been limited
f1dramaandtea
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f1dramaandtea: it's all getting a bit heated, y/n and lando skipped the james-stroll family dinner after the racing incident between lando and lance. scotty and y/n went back and forth in the comments of her post of support for lando. with the x games coming up, will the siblings reconcile?
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user17: i feel like i'm watching the family argument at thanksgiving
user18: do i think y/n is being dramatic? maybe. but at the same time her lando are super serious and it's only natural for her to want to defend him
user19: idk i think scotty is being the dramatic one, lance was clearly in the wrong and to not even give lando any sympathy was crazy imo
user20: once again i am begging for public figures to sort their shit offline especially now considering they are SIBLINGS
user21: i think it'll be fine in a couple days, scotty and y/n always bicker but they always get over it.
landonorris
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landonorris: the only one i'll ever need
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user22: like the beef is super sad and everything, but the lovey dovey posts from y/n and lando are keeping us FED
yourusername: you're such a sap, but you're my sap
landonorris: god i love you so so much
yourusername: forever and always
user23: i simply cannot wait for the canadian grand prix i need the drama
danielricciardo: oh to be young and in love
landonorris: thank you old man
danielricciardo: i am literally trying to be nice???
scottyjames: very cute
user24: i feel like this is a bit sarcastic
yourusername: oh grow up scotty
lancestroll: okay like can we get over it yet, me and lando have spoken i think y'all are just being stubborn now
yourusername: i'm a taurus let me live
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yourusername
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yourusername: what do you mean it's the biggest two weeks of my life? oh it's just the x games and the canada gp !! let's go lando and see whether we can go for gold again
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user25: as a lando and y/n stan i AM SO STRESSED I NEED THEM TO DO SO WELL
landonorris: you'll kill it baby i know you will
yourusername: couples that slay together stay together
landonorris: the rest of the world quakes in fear at our slay
yourusername: we'll come together to maximise our joint slay
oscarpiastri: okay i think we get it
user26: so like i need a double james gold even if it kills me
carlossainz55: good luck y/n you'll smash it
yourusername: thank you carlos, you and charles' snowboarding lessons will resume in the winter break
charles_leclerc: lord knows we need them
landonorris: not everyone has godgiven talent like myself
yourusername: baby, we all know it took over 10 lessons before you could even go more than 10ft before falling over
landonorris: baby you said you wouldn't tell anyone
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scottyjames and yourusername
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,209,667 others
scottyjames and yourusername: siblings that board together, win together. we may fight like crazy, but we'll always be there for each other, whether it is grabbing toilet roll or winning gold !! big love to you all and thank you for all the support xx
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user28: JAMES SIBLING SLAY AS THEY SHOULD
landonorris: super super proud of you y/n
scottyjames: wow lando i thought we were over this
landonorris: what if i told you i was just taken aback by y/n's beauty and talent
scottyjames: hmmmmm, i'll give you a pass this once
landonorris: i joke - congrats scotty, i'm so happy for you
yourusername: thank you baby xxxx
astonmartin: war is over !! congrats scotty and y/n
danielricciardo: big moves from the james siblings as per
yourusername: you know it 💅
scottyjames: thank you baby
f1
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tagged: scottyjames, landonorris, lancestroll, danielricciardo, yourusername
f1: my big fat f1 snowboarding wedding - scotty james and chloe stroll tied the knot this weekend and it was a star-studded affair
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user28: i would sell a kidney to have been there
yourusername: magical weekend
landonorris: us next?
yourusername: teehee, need a ring first
danielricciardo: @mclaren come get you driver he's going crazy
landonorris: crazy in love
carlossainz55: are you still drunk?
user29: they all look SO GOOD
user30: this y/n and scotty reconciliation is hitting like crack
user31: i fee like we're glossing over lando saying he wants to marry y/n
oscarpiastri: try spending five minutes with them and you'll know they'll get married asap
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note: eeeeeee hope you enjoy and this actually meets your request!! i had loads of fun writing this tbf xx
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folkloresthings · 10 months
Text
BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.
in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.
( charles leclerc x singer!au )
track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.
✩⡱ warnings: nope
INSTAGRAM.
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charles_leclerc starting P3 in abu dhabi for the final race of the season! fingers crossed for a good result
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carlossainz55 a good result in the race or somewhere else
⤷ charles_leclerc shut it
user 2022 season almost over :(
landonorris bring it on 😏😏😏
scuderiaferrari let’s race!!
INSTAGRAM.
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yourusername MY NEW ALBUM “emails i can’t send” OUT AUGUST 14. this year has been a whirlwind of emotions but it’s given me a lot of very dear songs. thank you for your patience 💌
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user NEW MUSIC ALERT
gracieabrams squealing with excitement
arianagrande SO excited 🤍
user a whole album inspired by austin AND charles???? yes please
landonorris preordered and presaved can you send me a signed copy
taylorswift EEK!
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it was finally here. the weekend of the final grand prix in abu dhabi, the end of another season of racing. you’d had your flight booked for weeks, but you hadn’t decided what you were going to do with it. all of your contemplating had made you late to the airport, having to rush through the terminal just in time to make the flight. and even then, thousands of miles in the air, you kept wanting to turn back.
you wanted charles, that much you knew. but you didn’t want to get hurt again, you were sure your heart was running out of bandaids.
no one knew you were here, besides lewis. he had helped you sneak in and out of the hotel, and into the paddock, without being caught. you didn’t want to let anyone know you were here, considering you might still change your mind at the last second.
but then it was sunday, before you knew it, and you were donning a red ferrari cap as you waited the race prep out in lewis’ driver’s room. every so often, you got the sudden urge to get up and run away, far far away. your heart was racing — maybe charles had changed his mind since you last spoke. three months was a long time, long enough to find someone else.
the race began and you watched it intently on the screens, biting at your fingernails every time charles rounded another corner. come the final lap, your feet were carrying you out to the paddock, away from the mercedes hut and towards ferrari. the crowd erupted nearby, charles crossing the finish line in P2. your heart swelled with a thrill, happiness for him filling you. a podium on the last race, something he’d spoken of time and time again.
you squeezed yourself through the celebrating ferrari employees, right to the front of the fence, watching as charles’ car pulled into it’s space after the cool down lap. you pulled the hat off, hoping your hair on show would catch his attention better. his fist pumped as he clambered out of the car, pulling off of his helmet and beaming at the crowds.
by instinct he moved to run towards the group all in red, the usual celebrations waiting to follow. but the monegasque driver stopped, his eyes stuck in the middle of the group. on you. you had come — you had actually come. charles could have pinched himself, sure he could never have gotten so lucky.
you felt your mouth run dry, unable to read his expression from where he was standing. everyone around you carried on celebrating, but the two of you were frozen. you smiled a little, shoulder shrugging with a slight chuckle. and when he smiled back at you, you knew.
you knew this was where you were meant to be.
INSTAGRAM.
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charles_leclerc possibly the best race of my life, i won the greatest prize of all ❤️❤️❤️ oh and i got P2
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user SCREAMING
landonorris i cried seeing that on the screen after the race
carlossainz55 they grow up so fast 🥲
user i never thought i’d live to see this day
scuderiaferrari OUR FAVS!!!!!!
yourusername my one and only ❤️‍🔥
⤷ yourusername pls ignore all the times i curse u out in the new album thanks 👍
writers note: i was THIS 🤏 close to her not getting on the plane
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padawansuggest · 6 months
Text
Okay so on Coruscant there are very few people that don’t actually go out into the streets (I’m thinking politicians and Jedi might be some of the few who don’t have to go outside very often if at all because the senate and the temple are both the size of a small city) which means that 1: they NEED to have vitamin D lights on the streets of Coruscant because otherwise everyone would be depressed like in the deepest winter at all times. And 2: that means I think the Jedi temple and the senate themselves also are just full of Vitamin D lights.
Also y’all need to stop writing fics where kids are afraid of ‘getting caught sneaking around after dark’ or something because the temple is literally so full of species that you have no idea of that kid is nocturnal or whatever. They very well could be. Tbh I wanna write a fic where someone catches Obi-Wan sneaking around at night to play a prank with Quin or something and he’s all ‘bruh my eyes glow in the dark I’m obviously meant to be awake at this hour’ and no one can argue with him. Stuff like that.
Also I think the temple neeeeeeeds multiple healing halls (once more. It is the size of a small city) one in the aquatic center of the temple (which canonically exists) one in the temple main (which should span over like four levels and act as it’s own building okay) and one in the creche. This is the MINIMUM amount of healing halls I think they should have.
A tram system should be inside the walls. Places in the temple that act as sideways lifts and also a subway system because believe it or not, there are species in the temple as small as one foot tall, and I’m not just talking about Grogu, I’m talking about others like Kushiban and others similar. Once more. It is the size of a small city. They should have both subway type stations (that take you certain places like the main healing halls or the biggest canteen or the supply sector of the temple things like that) because oh my god imagine how many hours the commute to your workstation could take if you didn’t have that shit. Annoying af.
They gotta have names for all the different canteens okay. Like ‘meet me in the cafeteria’ in a temple the size of a small city is bullshit cause even in the books they have multiple cafeterias.
A… let’s call it a Mall Section of the temple. A place where you can pick up groceries (the temple makes their own food and I assume most of it is cooked in careens but also not letting people cook their own food is a recipe for a Jedi starving to death on a mission lmao) but they also have a salon (skin care and hair care are very important and if you let all these babies cut their own hair they gonna turn out like me no one wants that) and a clothing ‘store’ where you can get certain size clothes and robes from, or even undercover mission clothes. There need to be Jedi in these places too!!! Imagine going to the salon with your master and having a gossip talk about your new lineage member!!! It’s important to society!!!
A Jedi movie theater where the masters send their kiddos on the weekend so they can enjoy a glass of wine and not be sneezed on for three hours.
I’ve actually seen a few mentions in fics and posts about tea salons so that is def also a thing. It’s the Jedi version of a cafe. I think people who like baking take turns working there and everyone chips in for tea selections and stuff.
Droid Ubers. They need to get somewhere but feel sick as heck and it’s not near any good lifts or the subway trams??? Call a droid Uber lmao. It shouldn’t be unusual either lol just grandmaster on his way to bother his kid while not aggravating his hip after hip surgery.
Remember that Jedi who are like 10 foot tall also exist so remember there ARE apartments in the temple that could fit Kenobi’s Dino-Horse girl Boga.
There should also be apartments with like 10 bedrooms and bathrooms (or even one giant communal bathroom) around a singular living/cooking space!!! Let Jedi live in communes!!!!
The aquatic levels of the creche are def the cutest place in the temple you can’t argue with me on the idea of water babies swimming and cuddling under water.
On another note to the fact that species like Kushiban exist???? Imagine tiny doors and corridors that used to be used by mouse droids but they became so useful to tiny Jedi so they got taken over. Just imagine that.
Bartering markets where Jedi trade things, mostly things they get on missions or are given to them as gifts, nothing goes to waste so they find a proper place for all gifts and extras here.
Cooking classes. Obi-Wan has been kicked out of all of them his cooking is so bad. Anakin claims bullshit he loves Master’s cooking! But then, he also eats worms…
Anyways. Y’all too single minded with this shit. It just be all ‘cafeteria, living quarters, healing halls and archives’ with you guys. Where is the culture. Where is the acknowledgment of multiple species all living in the same area taking place in a culture of peace and galactic exploration???? Give them a liquor store idgaf.
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celestie0 · 5 months
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.2 terms and conditions
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ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ chapter. 2/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 4.5k
a/n. if you see any typos, no you don't.
nav. masterlist
☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1
♬.*゚playlist
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“And yeah, that’s basically what I’ll ask from him in return,” you say through a mouthful of your cereal in the morning after summarizing the conversation you had with your school’s star soccer player on Instagram last night.
Mina scrolled through the messages as she took another bite of her apple and gave you a questioning look as she set your phone down. “I’m still shocked at the fact that Gojo Satoru, the Gojo Satoru, sent you a message. Also, why does he want to help his horny friend this badly?”
“I don’t know. But will you do it?” You ask her with pleading eyes. “Just one weekend, that’s all it seems like he’s asking for. And then I’ll get what I want from him. You just have to pretend to be interested in his friend for a little bit.”
Mina leans back on the bar stool at the little raised counter in the kitchen. You liked it because it was a little bar space that opened up to the living room, being partially the reason why you convinced her to sign this lease with you. She swallowed before speaking. “I mean, the only reason I didn’t really like his friend that much was because he kept asking me out to a house party instead of an actual date.”
“Yeah, I know, I figured,” you say.
“Also, an 8AM English class is the absolute worst time to hit on someone.” She smiles at you. “But his friend isn’t bad looking. Not exactly my type, maybe a bit too beefy and masculine for me? I don’t know.” She pauses to take another bite of her apple, this time talking through her chewing. “I would say Gojo is more my type.”
He’s probably everyone’s type, you think to yourself. 
“Anyways, yeah, I’ll do it,” she easily agrees. 
“You will?” You gleam at her, your hands clapping together in happiness.
“Yeah, I will. If you think it’ll help you get what you want from him, then I’ll do it,” she smiles at you.
You run over to her, arms curling around her from behind as you say thank you, thank you, thank you and she pats at your forearm for you to ease up on your excessive gratefulness. 
-------
The weekend rolls around surprisingly fast and the hour that the party’s doors open is steadily approaching. Mina just came home from her work shift and was in the bathroom taking a shower while you sifted through your closet to figure out what to wear. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to an SAE house party. You’ve been to other college parties before, mostly in your first year, but never a fraternity’s, let alone the biggest one on your college campus. Was there some sort of waiting list? Some sort of etiquette that you didn’t know of? Your stomach flips at the prospect.
Your hands pull out a simple black dress that was tucked all the way to the right of your closet. It was a tiny bit wrinkled but it would do. Slipping on the dress, you turned to glance at yourself in the mirror. It had long, skin tight sleeves with a sweetheart neckline and the hem fell to the middle of your thighs, the material soft and silky. You suddenly felt a bit self conscious and ended up taking it off in favor of some ripped blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt instead.
Mina opened the door of the bathroom and stepped into your shared room, wrapped in a towel with her hair clipped up on her head. “Cute fit,” she compliments you as she also makes her way to her closet. “Ugh, I just want to go to bed. Why am I doing this again?”
“Because you love me,” you say.
“Yes, that’s why,” she sighs. She puts on a purple body-con dress that had beautiful sparkles on it, probably more fitting for the club than a house party, but who knows, maybe that ends up being the vibe of the place. 
You both sit on the floor in front of the mirror to do makeup, you finishing first since you wore a little less than her, and you help her draw the wings of her eyeliner. This sort of ritual was always the best before you went out with friends. The getting ready part was almost more fun than the actual going out part. 
A small fight took place between the two of you in terms of who would be designated driver, and Mina finally relents to allowing you to drive. You argued with her that she was doing you a favor, and that if Mina decides she needed some drinks during the night to take the edge off of having to talk to this Gojo Satoru friend, then she should be allowed to do that. Mina grabbed her purse and you grabbed your cross-body fanny pack as well as keys, and you were headed out the door.
As you drove down the street approaching the address, you both noticed a lot of the houses looked very similar with decorative sports flags, gaudy front-lawn decorations, and outside furniture. This was most likely the fraternity house strip of SAE where most of the guys lived and hosted parties. There were living places on campus for the members too, but those were usually for the people that organized the fraternity’s events. Loud approaching bass-boosted music filled the air and it suddenly became challenging navigating through all of the parked cars on the street as the GPS informed you that you were less than 500 feet from your location on the left. You luckily found a spot to park at the cul de sac a little further ahead and then you two were making your way to the house.
“4100, right?” Mina called after you as she shuffled a bit in her heels to catch up, arms crossing over her chest to warm herself up in the cold. You slowed down a bit for her.
“Yeah, this one I guess,” you point up ahead where you spot a group of people approaching the entrance where a guy seemed to be collecting payments. You notice him turn some people away from the door, confirming that there was some sort of screening process for entry, and you’re suddenly a bit anxious.
“Alright, y’all are good to go inside,” the guy at the door chirps to what’s left of the group that lined up before you two. He makes eye contact with you and Mina, straightening himself up a bit. “Ladies! Looking very gorgeous. I like the sort of casual tomboy with the bombshell friend pairing. Can’t say I’ve seen you two around here. Ever been to an SAE party before?”
“Nah, first time,” Mina says as she shivers from the cold.
“Aight, cool, you’ll definitely enjoy it. Ladies enter for free, so go on ahead,” he says, comically gesturing towards the door with both of his arms before he crosses them again and puffs out his chest. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. He has a little name tag that says Itadori Yuuji on it, which you’re almost certain no one even asked him to wear.
As you two make your way inside, you’re instantly reminded of why you hated places like this. Loud music reverberates throughout the entire room as people bustle around everywhere, some people dancing, some people standing, some people walking over to other areas, and a lot of people shamelessly making out. There was a lot more lighting than you were expecting, that sort of warm and dull suburban house lighting that reminds you of your childhood for some reason, but there were flashing lights across the ceiling that gave it more of a party feel. The house was two stories, and the staircase was visible from the entrance, leading up to a hallway at the top with a railing that oversaw the downstairs expanse before stretching out further into unseen territory where you assumed the bedrooms were. Your eyes instantly began scanning the room for any familiar faces, or for one Gojo Satoru. 
“Damn, just the smell of the alcohol alone has me about ready to throw up,” Mina says next to you as she takes a few steps further into the house. You follow behind her as she makes her way into what looks like the kitchen where there’s less people other than those refilling their drinks. She’s quick to pour some vodka into a plastic red solo cup before nonchalantly opening the fridge and pouring some orange juice into it as well. She glances up at you. “Don’t judge me.” You stifle a laugh. 
“Oh shit, sorry man,” a masculine voice behind you says and when you turn around, you’re face to face with quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. 
In all his glory, Gojo Satoru was standing in front of you. Just as the prophecy foretold, he was tall, at least an entire head above you, and irritatingly gorgeous. He was wearing gray sweatpants, untied drawstrings loosely hanging, with a black short-sleeved shirt that was tight around his biceps and lazily tucked into his waistband just at the front. He was holding two drinks in his hands, one clearly with some spillage as droplets fell from the base of it onto the tile of the kitchen, and his piercing blue eyes behind his tacky HO-HO party glasses widened at the sight of you. The guy behind him, who you assumed was the one he was apologizing to just a second ago, gave him a solid slap on the back and muttered a you’re good, dude before turning the corner back into the core of the party, leaving the three of you alone in the kitchen. 
You heard Mina cough a little behind you and you watched as Gojo’s eyes quickly darted to her.
“No way,” you hear Gojo mutter under his breath as he walks past you and makes his way around the kitchen island, setting the drinks in his hand down on the counter. “You’re Mina, right? I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says as if not everyone on campus knows who he is, and sticks his hand out for her to shake and she hesitantly shakes it. “Thanks for coming.” 
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Mina said, shooting you a glance. 
He then turns around and makes his way to you again, hand outstretched for you to shake, and you hesitantly do so as well. You immediately notice how the tips of his fingers feel calloused. “Hey, I’m Gojo Satoru. You’re y/n, right?” 
You nodded, for some reason unable to find your voice, and he peers over the ‘O’s on his glasses to look at you. His eyes were like the sparkling ocean under the sun, a tantalizing shade that sailors probably yearned for during long nights out at sea before they went overboard, chasing after sirens, and eventually drowning. Yikes, that got dark for some reason. But there was something dark about his eyes, too. “Yeah.”
He leans down closer to you, his mouth near your ear, and the fragrance of freshly-washed laundry consumes you. “Thanks, I owe you one. Find me later, ‘kay?” he whispers and you can feel his breath on your neck. The movement has your cheeks embarrassingly burning before he’s pulling away from you. He turns to Mina again. “You’ve met my friend Todo, right? He’s about sixty ounces deep into an insane round of beer pong, you wanna watch?” Gojo asks her with a weirdly wholesome smile on his face.
“How charming…” Mina says as she reluctantly walks over to him, giving you a darting look, and then he’s leading her out into the living room. You stand there in the kitchen, leaning against the island, finally noticing how fast your heart was beating. 
I mean, you knew he would be handsome. You saw all his Instagram pictures, and all the school advertising for the soccer team with his face all over it plastered practically around every corner on campus, but this was your first time seeing him in person and you hated how breathtaking he was. Like, how can people just casually be in his presence? You figured the only way was that they eventually get used to the way he just commands a room when he walks in. You wonder if you’ll ever feel relaxed in his vicinity. Part of you wishes you didn’t fight Mina so hard to be designated driver because now you were itching for a drink to calm your nerves. 
As a group of girls make their way into the kitchen, giggling about something some guy had said to one of them, you suddenly feel a little alone and make your way out into the living room as well. Your hands play with the strap of the fanny pack slung across your chest and just people-watch for a bit. Spotting the game of beer pong over in the corner, you see Mina watching with a bored expression and you let out a small laugh. The man at the end of the table had a ping pong ball in his hand, and you immediately identified him as this Todo guy. Mina’s description was pretty spot on, definitely beefy and masculine, and he was the only one in that corner that had his shirt off for some reason.
He aimed for the opposing side’s remaining two cups of beer, the ball looking comically tiny in his large hand, and when he threw it the ball landed right in one of the cups. A look of excitement flashed across his face before a bunch of the guys started smacking his chest, yelling something like “has to be a bounce shot, dude” and he suddenly looked agitated all over again. A small smile makes its way on Mina’s face and you’re surprised to see it. 
Standing next to her was Gojo, tall and his presence imposing, as he silently watched the rowdy game with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and back leaned against the wall. There was a curious expression on his face and you tilted your head to the side, enjoying the moment to just study him for a little bit. 
“I like your fanny pack,” you hear a voice say from behind you that has you twirling around. You look up and find yourself staring at yet another handsome man. This one had dark black hair that was tied up into a man bun with some short tendrils of hair falling onto one side of his forehead.
“Oh, thanks,” you say awkwardly.
“Where are my manners? I’m Geto Suguru, nice to meet you,” he says as he stretches the hand that was not occupied by his drink out to you. 
You shook his hand, noticing calluses on his fingers too. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m y/n. What’s with everyone here and shaking hands? I feel like I’m at a job interview.”
The man in front of you chuckles. “You’re funny,” he says. “Haven’t seen you around here. Which sorority are you in?”
“Oh, uh, I’m not in one. I live with my friend Mina about 20 minutes from campus,” you awkwardly say.
A slightly surprised expression flashes across his face as he nods slowly and you can see it in his face that he’s searching his brain for a follow-up question when someone behind him taps his shoulder.
“Hey, Suguru, do you know what time practice is tomorrow? Itadori-kun swears it’s at three, but I have a meeting at that time, so if that’s true then I’m screwed,” the guy behind Geto says. Sigh. Once again handsome. He was tall, had broad shoulders, and cleanly styled blonde hair with a sharp jaw that made him look like he just stepped out of a James Bond movie.
“Pretty sure it’s at six. I’d check with Satoru, though,” he jutted his chin over in the direction of the beer pong table. “Oh, this is y/n by the way. She’s not in a sorority, but she lives 10 minutes away from campus.” Geto steps to the side a little and the blonde stranger steps into his space.
“20 minutes,” you correct him and this time, you’re the one to stretch your hand out. The man in front of you shakes it, and once again you notice calluses. This must have to do with soccer, then. His handshake was firm, short, and intentional, and you could tell he was probably studying a respectable major. 
“I’m Nanami Kento, but just call me Kento,” he says in a smooth voice. “Excuse me,” he says and he’s making his way past you over to the beer pong table. 
Geto’s glance falls on you again, but suddenly feeling awkward you excuse yourself from him to go use the restroom. You haven’t had this much social interaction in a long time and you needed to get away from the noise for a second. As you make your way past the kitchen into a narrow hallway, you realize you have no idea where the restroom is. One of the door handles has a sock on it, gross, so you ignore it all together. You finally reach a door that could potentially be a restroom, and you’re overjoyed that you don’t hear any voices inside when you knock on it. You allow yourself inside and close the door behind you. 
The bathroom was surprisingly well-kept from what you expect of a frat house. There’s about three different toothbrushes in a round plastic tin on the counter of the sink, but you’re sure that there’s more than three guys that live here so there must be another bathroom upstairs too. Glancing at your reflection, you notice that some of your mascara has smudged a little so you use your finger to wipe the excess off and then you reapply a thin layer of lip balm over your lips. You contemplate actually taking a piss, but you realize you don’t really need to. With a few deep breaths, you’re out into the hallway and almost make it back into the kitchen before bumping into a certain white-haired man at the kitchen entrance.
“Oh, hey, fancy seeing you here again,” Gojo says with a grin and your eye twitches slightly. He was still wearing those HO-HO glasses (Christmas was literally over three months ago) and this time there were some sort of black painted lines underneath both of his eyes. He was extremely hot but definitely somewhat unserious about his appearance.  
Gojo glances down at your empty hands and tips his head to the side a little. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Uhh, water?” You offer.
He lets out a laugh, his hand flying to his stomach, and you realize he thinks you're joking. When your expression doesn’t budge, his smile drops. “Seriously?”
“I’m DD for Mina,” you say as you walk around him and make it into the kitchen where you find a pitcher of water. Your heart still races a bit at the sight of Gojo, but you enjoy the peace and quiet that the kitchen provides you away from the party around the corner. 
“So, y/n,” you hear Gojo say behind you. You’re not quite used to hearing your name casually roll off his tongue. He’s suddenly at your side, leaning back against the edge of the island and crossing his arms as he looks down at you to watch you pour your water. It takes everything in you to not glance over at how nice the muscles of his arms probably look across his chest. “What exactly are those terms and conditions you spoke of?”
Your face flushes slightly. You remind yourself that this is the man that you were Instagram DMing at two in the morning earlier this week. It feels weird, considering at the time he seemed more like a made-up character in your mind but now that you’ve actually met him, you realize that he is indeed a living, breathing, real person. When you take a sip of your water, you realize just how parched you really are. 
“Okay, hold on a sec, there’s no way you’re just drinking water all night long. There’s some non-alcoholic punch in the other room. Be right back,” he says and he’s gone from your side. You miss the heat from his body. 
He returns shortly after with a cup of punch in his hands and slides it to you across the counter. You grip onto it and stare into the deep red liquid. 
“Okay, so,” he says as he leans back against the counter again, this time a bit closer so his arm was brushing against your shoulder. Your skin burns at the contact. “Your terms and conditions?”
You found it a bit odd that he was so adamant to satisfy these conditions of yours, considering he already won. You had successfully brought Mina to the party, and it seemed like she was getting along with his friend Todo. It shouldn’t really matter what you wanted from him anymore. You suppose that maybe he was just a man of his word. 
You sigh, remaining facing the counter of the island as you glance at all the types of alcoholic bottles and cans laid out on it. “Well, my request is pretty simple.”
“Hmm,” you hear him hum inquisitively beside you.
You finally turn to face him and you instinctively put a hand over your heart as though to reprimand it to stop beating so fast in his presence. He notices the movement. “I want you to get me onto the soccer field at a few of your practices or games so I can take film photos of the players.” 
Gojo takes his HO-HO glasses off and sets them down on the counter, a serious expression on his face. You notice how nice his eyelashes are. 
“Your terms and conditions are…that you want me to help you take photos of a bunch of sweaty dudes?” he asks. “You’re kinda freaky.”
You roll your eyes and send him an annoyed look. “They’re not for me, they’re for one of my class assignments. I’m taking this film photography class, and my professor is obsessed with the school’s soccer team. Pretty much all of his lectures start with goal-by-goal breakdowns of your guys’ most recent game. If I submit some stellar-looking film photos of the action on the field, he’d give me a good grade and a good letter of recommendation.” You notice Gojo tense up slightly in front of you. “I’m trying to get into this one graduate program.” 
You watch his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he turns his head to look away from you and instead look straight ahead at the fridge. Long lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks every time he blinks. His arms that were crossed at his chest rise a little as he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess I can do that for you.”
You can’t control the smile that spreads across your face when he acquiesces. This was a really good opportunity for you. You pick up the punch that he gave you and almost bring it to your lips when he speaks again, interrupting the motion.
“Your pictures are pretty good, by the way,” he says, still staring straight forward at the fridge.
Your mouth gapes slightly. “How have you seen my photos?”
He looks down at you, an eyebrow raised. “I follow you on Instagram, dummy. Also, you never followed me back.”
You’re standing there a little stunned at the conversation. He speaks to you so casually as if you haven’t just met him tonight. “Sorry, I only really follow back my friends…”
“Are we not friends?” It’s your turn to let out a laugh, thinking he’s joking, only to realize he’s not.
“I’ve literally just met you…speaking of, I should probably pour my own drink,” you say as you slide the punch back onto the counter top over to him and turn away to head in the direction he had gone to retrieve it for you. You hear him mutter an ouch from behind you at the implied accusation you just made but you remind yourself that this man is essentially a stranger to you, and the only things you know about him are things you’ve heard from other strangers. 
You spot Mina still by the beer pong table, this time heavily invested in the game and she even flirtatiously blows on Todo’s ping pong ball for good luck before he chucks it at the opposing teams’ cups, entirely missing, but Mina reaches up to place a kiss on his cheek regardless. Your jaw drops at the sight. She was going to be answering a lot of your questions in the morning. 
You find the punch table, pour yourself some, and realize that it was indeed non-alcoholic and pretty damn good. Mina finally makes eye contact with you from across the room and she leaves the table to make her way to you.
“Y/n! OMG, I was lookin’ for you, girl!” She sounded a bit tipsy. “What time is it? I totally forgot I have a stupid discussion post thingy due at midnight.”
You pull your phone out of your fanny pack and read the time that says 11:12PM. It was still a bit early to leave a party, but you supposed it was up to Mina. “It’s 11:12PM. There’s no traffic so it would probably just take us around 10-15 minutes to get home. You wanna leave?”
She sighs and turns around to look at Todo, who was giving her a sleazy look and mouthing what’s wrong, babe? Mina shakes her head at him pitifully and then turns her head back to you with sulking shoulders. “Yeah…stupid professor making those posts 25% of our entire grade…”
You laughed and made sure she grabbed her purse before you two headed towards the exit. You bumped into Geto again on your way out and gave him a polite goodbye and then you two were out of the door, loud party noises getting further and further as you made it to the car. Mina trailed a bit behind you but eventually made it over to the passenger side door. You unlocked the car and she made it inside, but before you do the same, your phone pings with a notification from Instagram.
|| 11:16PM Gojo Satoru: I’ll let you know our practice and game schedule for the next week. Just let me know what times you’re interested in stopping by
A small twinge of excitement fills your chest and you’re suddenly feeling some sort of high as you slide into the driver’s seat of the car. Mina’s mumbling something like turn on the heateeerrr beside you, and you put the car in drive then take the two of you home.
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a/n. apologies for any formatting errors since i'm copy/pastin from my ao3! i've tried to manually fix them all but i'm too lazy to read the whole thing to fix it lol. hope you enjoyed!
➸ take me to chapter three!
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mykoreanlove · 6 months
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you make me blush
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y/n, hey.
I know you are asleep right now and can’t reply but that’s fine. Actually, that might even be better…
After the weekend that we just had, you must be tired as fuck. I know I am. But as usual I can’t sleep. Normally, I’m awake because I worry about work or the future but now it’s because of you.
I can’t fall asleep because of you, y/n.
You are stuck on my mind. Or rather, we are stuck on my mind. I can’t believe we did this foolish thing. Were we crazy? I tried wrapping my head around how all this happened but I’m no wiser than before.
Remember our first date? That was weeks ago. Sweet laughter turned into even sweeter kisses and those turned into passionate sex and then I had to leave. We barely talked after that, but I couldn’t forget about you.
I tried but failed.
Of course, I had to come back to your city. Wait, that’s a lie. I had to come back to you, y/n.
I couldn’t wait for a whole weekend coddled up with only me and you.
Fuck, I’m blushing just thinking about our weekend. I’m a grown ass man who’s blushing when thinking about all the cute and nasty things we did. Especially the nasty.
Have I mentioned how pretty you looked choking on my dick? Because damn, baby, that picture is on my mind 24/7.
It’s true that I didn’t develop feelings when we first met – I was in the wrong head space back then. But this weekend changed everything for me. It changed me.
I… I really want us to be a thing.
I wanna come see you again, so I can finally make you mine. I wanna hold your hand when we’re out in public and I wanna grope your ass when it’s only us. I wanna carry your favorite snacks in my backpack and hug you all day long. I wanna kiss those soft lips and look into your magnificent eyes, y/n. I wanna eat you out and make you scream my name until you faint. I really wanna be yours.
God, what did you do to me?
I am head over heels for you, y/n. I have no idea what you did to me but can you … can you do that again?
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theskit · 1 year
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Stickers AU
Anyone linking here from the previous posts or wanting to use the links on this post to go back/forward to the other parts and not wanting to spoil the surprise stickers, after using the link, click on my blog name to go to the actual post, as direct linking takes away the readmore cut. I'll take this out and fix it if I can find out how. Sorry!
Part 6
《Prev Next》
Danny floated along as he caught his breath. Okay, so jump scaring the Red Hood *might* not have been the best plan he'd ever come up with, but man, was it funny!
It was getting kind of late, though. He should probably start making his way back to the hotel. Any more vigilante pranks would have to wait for another time. Good thing the conference was on a long weekend. He had one more night to try his luck before they left Monday afternoon for the drive back to Amity.
Pulling up the map on his phone, Danny started making his way back. Just over halfway there, he jolted to a stop, catching sight of a rippling back shadow. Batman's distinctive silhouette was marked briefly against a building wall before being almost lost again in the perpetual dimness of the city rooftops at night.
Well, well, well, looks like he might have the chance to bag all the bats and birds of Gotham in one night, leaving tomorrow to hunt down in Bludhaven for Nightwing.
Eeeeexcellent. Danny pulled himself straight in mid-air, steepling his fingers and druming them together in classic Evil Villian style, grinning in a manner that would have shown entirely too many teeth had he been visible.
Now, this would require *true* stealth if he wanted to both get a sticker onto Batman's utility belt, as well as help himself to a batarang or two. Because Ellie was right, there would be no greater souvenir from his time in Gotham than a batarang from *the* Batman himself.
Choosing a sticker and prepping it, Danny sidled up to where Batman was staring down at a building that was probably not as vacant as it looked if it called for that much concentration. All the better for him if Batman was distracted though.
Moving by inches, carefully controlling his breathing so as not to make a sound, Danny made it to Batman's side. Batman was... probably? right handed, most people were, so he was gunna make an educated guess that the sharp throwing objects would be on the left side of the belt.
Getting ready to make the grab and stick, Danny nearly jumped out of his skin as Batman moved his arm and draped his cape over the space where Danny was standing intangibly right next to him, in a gesture that seemed more ingrained habit than conscious thought.
O-KAY! Time to go before Batman had a chance to recognize that there was no one where he very obviously expected someone to be. Robin, maybe?
Thoughts to think another time! Moving with all the speed and precision he could muster while his heart was still attempting to leave the city without him, Danny swiped one hand through a series of belt pouches while the other oh-so-gently tapped a sticker to the front buckle.
Not even stopping to see what it was he'd swiped, Danny made a quick exit, stage left, do not pass go, do not collect $200.
Batman was jolted out of his concentration when he felt a nudge at his belt as his cape settled against his side once more. Whirling to the left, he scanned the rooftop but saw no one.
Which was entirely unexpected as his instincts were *sure* a small presence had been snug up to his side, like a young Dick or Tim when they got tired or a bit overwhelmed while on patrol and wanted to hide in his cape.
But neither Dick nor Tim, or even Damian (though Damian had never actually done so) was small or young enough to have done that in *years*.
A quick inspection found his belt pouches missing a handful of batarangs, some candy he kept on hand to help soothe distressed children, and the extra just-in-case comm unit. As well as the addition of a glowing sticker, much like the one currently decorating the batmobile, somehow placed on the buckle despite him neither seeing or hearing anything.
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