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reidmarieprentiss · 1 month

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Always You

Summary: Spencer is in love with his best friend, you already have a boyfriend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: being called a bitch (not by spencer), sharing hotel rooms, pining, love confessions, break ups, (un)requited feelings, HAPPY ending

Word count: 4.6k

a/n: if your partner of multiple years does not know your basic likes and dislikes ..............

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For two years, seven months, two weeks, and six days, you have been a dedicated member of the BAU. For two years, five months, two weeks, and four days, Spencer Reid has been hopelessly in love with you. But for two years and four months, and one week, you’ve been in a relationship with Duncan Cody, the Counter-Terrorism agent who everyone not-so-secretly despises. Spencer was just too late to tell you how he felt, and for two years and four months, that regret has gnawed at him, leaving him haunted by what could have been.

—

The team was on a case in a small, dusty town in New Mexico, and the accommodations were limited, forcing everyone to double up on rooms. Naturally, you chose to bunk with your best friend, Spencer. But he was unusually tense about the arrangement.

“Hey, JJ, can we switch?” Spencer asked, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness.

JJ looked up from her phone, puzzled. “Huh? Why? I thought you liked rooming with Y/N.”

Spencer swallowed, trying to keep his voice low and steady. Usually, he did love sharing a room with you—it was comfortable, familiar. But the oppressive heat of New Mexico had driven you to wear lighter, more revealing clothes, and Spencer had been struggling with the sight of you all day. The thought of what you might wear to bed, or worse, the possibility that you might wear nothing at all, had his mind spinning and his temperature rising.

“Yeah, no, I do. It’s just… I thought you might want a chance to room with her instead of Hotch,” he stammered, attempting to sound casual.

JJ smiled warmly, shaking her head. “Aww, thanks, Spence, but I don’t mind. Hotch and I usually just talk about the boys until we pass out. It’s actually been pretty nice.”

Spencer forced a tight smile, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten as JJ cheerfully dismissed his suggestion. He could hardly blame her; in fact, he would normally jump at the chance to room with you. But the idea of spending the night so close to you, especially in the sweltering New Mexico heat, had his nerves frayed.

Back in the room, you were already making yourself comfortable, tossing your bag onto the bed with a carefree smile. "It's like a sauna out there," you groaned, fanning yourself with your hand. "I might just sleep in my underwear tonight."

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing at the mental image that followed your innocent comment. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him. "Y-yeah, it's definitely... warm."

You flashed him a grin, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. "At least the AC is working, right?"

"Right," Spencer echoed, swallowing hard. This was going to be a long night.

“Do you mind if I take the first shower? I’ll be quick, I want to get right to bed; I’m beat,” you asked, glancing up from your go-bag as you rummaged through it for your toiletries.

Spencer, trying to keep his cool, nodded quickly. “Ye–yeah, that’s fine.”

You smiled, seemingly unaware of the effect you had on him. “Oh, and which bed do you want?”

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Um, whichever is fine.”

“Thank god, I want the one by the window. Thanks, Spence!” You flashed him a grateful grin before grabbing your things and heading off to the bathroom.

As the door clicked shut behind you, Spencer exhaled a breath he’d been holding. It was wrong to fantasize about his best friend, especially in the very not-safe-for-work way that he often did, and especially when you had a serious partner. But he couldn’t help it. You were the kindest, most genuine person he knew, and the fact that you were also the most stunning person, inside and out, only made it that much harder for him to keep his feelings in check.

Minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, keeping your promise to be quick. However, Spencer’s pulse skyrocketed when he saw you—dressed in nothing but your underwear and a thin tank top that left little to the imagination. He could feel his face flush as he quickly averted his gaze.

“I’m all done, Spence. Shower’s all yours,” you said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“Uh, thanks!” Spencer blurted out, nearly tripping over his own feet as he shot up from the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. He knew there was only one solution to his current predicament—a long, cold shower.

Once both of you were settled in bed with the lights off, you couldn’t resist starting a conversation. Sharing a room with Spencer always reminded you of those childhood sleepovers—giggly, fun, and safe. The quiet darkness seemed to invite whispered secrets, the kind that felt easier to share when you couldn’t see each other’s faces.

“I think Duncan is going to break up with me,” you whispered, your voice just loud enough for Spencer to hear, but soft enough that it felt protected by the shadows.

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

You hesitated for a moment, as if hearing the words out loud made them more real. “I hadn’t said it out loud yet. It sounds crazy now that I have.”

“Why do you think he’s going to break up with you?” Spencer asked, his voice gentle, though he could feel a tightness in his chest.

You sighed deeply, the weight of your thoughts evident. “He’s been pulling away recently. Fewer date nights, less texting during the day… I haven’t spoken to him on the phone once since we got here.” You paused, gathering the courage to continue. “We haven’t had sex in weeks.”

Spencer felt a sharp pang of something unpleasant in his stomach at that comment—jealousy, frustration, regret—he wasn’t sure. “Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he murmured, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Thanks, Reid,” you replied, your tone quiet and resigned.

For a long moment, silence hung between you, thick and heavy, as if neither of you knew what to say next. Just when you began to drift off, almost convinced that sleep was pulling you under, you heard Spencer’s voice, low and tender, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“If he lets you go, he is the single biggest imbecile on this planet.”

You blinked in the darkness, half-convinced you were imagining things. Did Spencer really just say that? But before you could ask, the silence returned, leaving you to wonder if it was just a dream after all.

—

No more confessions were made during the case, and within a few days, the team was back home. But for Spencer, the case hadn’t been the only thing on his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you might be single soon. The possibility gnawed at him—would he have a chance? Could he ever muster the courage to tell you how he really felt? Who knows?

What he did know, however, was that you had been using him as a frequent escape from your shared apartment with Duncan. Spencer didn’t mind; in fact, he cherished every moment with you.

“Hey, Spence, do you want to order pizza and watch a movie tonight?” you asked casually as the workday began to wind down.

“Yeah, sounds great,” Spencer replied, his smile brightening his features.

As soon as you walked away, Derek strolled over to Spencer’s desk, a look of mild concern on his face. “Uh, Reid?”

“Yeah?” Spencer responded, glancing up at him.

“I thought you had a date tonight?”

Spencer blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“With that girl from the post office?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he realized he had completely forgotten about the date. “I completely forgot.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, surprised. Spencer never forgot anything. “Listen, Reid. I know we all have our feelings about Duncan… but be careful, okay?”

Spencer frowned slightly, unsure what Derek was getting at. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just—she’s hurting right now, but what happens when they make up? I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

Spencer’s mind began to race as he processed Derek’s words. “We’re just friends, Derek. I’m just supporting her in her time of need.”

Derek gave him a look that was equal parts sympathetic and skeptical. “I hope you’re right, Pretty Boy.”

As Derek walked away, Spencer found himself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. Was Derek right? Was he setting himself up for heartache? He didn’t know the answers, but one thing was certain—he was in too deep to turn back now.

—

You were sitting on Spencer's couch, enjoying a slice of pizza, when his phone started ringing on the coffee table. Since Spencer was in the bathroom, you reached over to grab it, assuming it might be work-related. But the screen flashed a name you didn't recognize: Amanda. Who's Amanda? you wondered, feeling a twinge in your stomach that you quickly tried to dismiss.

When Spencer came back from the bathroom, you waved his phone with a teasing smile, trying to mask the discomfort you felt. "Who's Amanda, Spence?" you asked, your voice light but edged with curiosity.

His face dropped instantly, a look of confusion and then realization washing over him. "What?"

"You got a call from someone named Amanda," you repeated, watching his reaction closely.

Spencer's shoulders sagged as he took the phone from you. "Oh shoot, I forgot to cancel our date tonight. She probably thinks I stood her up."

Your heart sank a little. "Wait, Reid, you had a date tonight? Why didn't you tell me? I could have gone home!"

The mix of surprise and a slight sense of betrayal hung in the air. Spencer looked genuinely apologetic, his eyes wide with concern. "I... I just forgot. With everything going on, it slipped my mind. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you here if you had other plans."

You forced a smile, shaking your head slightly. "It's okay, I just... didn't realize." Inside, you were conflicted, feeling foolish for how comfortable you’d become in his space, reminding yourself once again that you were just friends, despite the years of ignoring that pit in your stomach.

—

The entire team had taken note of the significant amount of time you and Spencer had been spending together, and they were all too aware of his long-standing crush on you. Their concern for their friend was palpable, which made the next rooming arrangement all the more telling. When the opportunity arose again for team members to share rooms, JJ immediately claimed you as her roommate. You caught the unmistakable look of relief that Spencer sent her way. What the hell?

That night, as you settled into the room with JJ, the question that had been nagging at you finally spilled out. "Why did Spencer seem relieved not to room with me? Did I do something wrong?"

JJ looked at you with her soft, comforting eyes, shaking her head gently. "Oh, I don’t think so," she reassured you in her calming tone. "Last time he asked me to switch, I think he just wanted a break," she added, her words kind but straightforward.

"Got it." The words felt like a punch to your gut. Your best friend didn’t want to room with you? The thought made you feel nauseous, or maybe it was the urge to cry that was overwhelming you.

"Is everything okay?" JJ noticed the tears brimming in your eyes.

"Yeah," you waved her off with a forced chuckle. "I’m on my period, just overly emotional," you laughed it off, masking the true turmoil you felt.

JJ immediately responded with a warm smile. "Aw, honey, I have pain killers and tampons if you need anything!"

"Thanks, JJ," you muttered, grateful for her kindness but still reeling from the emotional sting of the evening's revelations.

—

After the case, you found yourself withdrawing from Spencer, the sting of feeling like an imposition too sharp to ignore. Instead, you poured your energy into mending the fraying edges of your relationship with Duncan. Spencer, on the other hand, was left puzzled by your sudden distance, unable to pinpoint the cause of this shift in your dynamic. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of a faint hickey peeking out from under your collar that he understood—or thought he did.

“So you fixed things with Duncan?” he asked one day, trying to sound casual as he joined you for coffee in the breakroom.

“Yup. I’ll be out of your hair now, don’t worry,” you replied with a tight smile, and without waiting for his response, you walked out, leaving Spencer bewildered in your wake.

“What was that about?” JJ inquired, having witnessed the interaction from her spot by the vending machine.

“Not sure, she’s been giving me the cold shoulder since the last case,” Spencer murmured, frowning deeply as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly.

“Oh, I might know why,” JJ said, her voice lowering slightly.

“Why?” Spencer looked up, his interest piqued.

“Well, she knows you didn’t want to room with her,” JJ revealed, her expression sympathetic.

“What? You told her?” Spencer’s voice was a mix of surprise and slight irritation.

“She asked, Spence. She was really upset about the whole thing too. You should talk to her,” JJ advised, her tone earnest.

Spencer nodded slowly, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. I will,” he agreed, his mind already racing with what he would say to you, hoping to mend the unintentional hurt he had caused.

—

"Y/N, can we talk?" Spencer caught up with you just as you were about to step into the elevator on a quiet Friday evening. The office had already emptied, leaving you both as the last on the floor.

"Sure, what's up?" you asked, pausing to face him, noting the serious look on his face.

Spencer opened his mouth to explain the hotel room situation, his mind racing for the right words that wouldn't betray his deeper feelings. "Well, you see, it's about the hotel room situation on the last case, and I just—uh, I mean, when we were assigned to room together, I found myself in a bit of a predicament, or rather, a series of considerations that perhaps aren't usual, or rather aren't typically problematic in ordinary circumstances, but given the nature of—"

"Spencer, it's fine. You don't have to room with me on every case. I'm sorry I never asked first," you interjected, misreading his hesitation.

"No, no, I want to room with you," he blurted out, more forcefully than he intended.

"Then why did you ask JJ to switch?" you asked, your confusion evident.

Spencer felt trapped between his desire to comfort you and his fear of making things awkward. "Um...it was just really warm on that case, and I—I didn't want to see you in your underwear," he admitted, his cheeks coloring slightly.

"What? Spencer, you could have just told me. Oh my god! I was walking around in my underwear!" you exclaimed, half-amused and half-mortified.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking genuinely apologetic.

"No, Reid, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Is it because I have a boyfriend?" you asked, your tone laced with concern.

Spencer scoffed at the mention of Duncan. "No."

"Then what is it?" you pressed, your gaze steady on his.

Caught with no more excuses, Spencer knew he was cornered. His heart raced with the realization that there was no turning back. "Because I'm in love with you," he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

—

Spencer Reid's confession echoed in your mind, each word reverberating through your thoughts like a bell that couldn’t be unrung. Spencer Reid is in love with me? The realization sent your thoughts into a tumultuous spiral as you drove home, the familiar streets blurring past. You considered pulling over, needing a moment to process the swirling chaos in your head, but you pushed on, driven by a need to just get home.

When you finally walked through the door of your apartment, the atmosphere struck you immediately. It was dimmer than usual, the air filled with a scent that was distinctly not yours. The smell of soy candles—a scent you distinctly disliked—mingled with the scent of red roses, another thing you didn't care for.

"Duncan?" Your voice was hesitant, almost wary as you set your things by the door and walked deeper into the dimly lit space.

"In here, babe," Duncan called out from the living room.

Following his voice, you found him standing in the center of a meticulously staged scene, surrounded by the roses and candles. The setup was so unlike what you would have wanted, so disconnected from who you were.

"Uhhh, what’s going on here?" you asked, your tone a mix of confusion and a growing sense of disconnect.

Duncan turned to you with a smile that didn’t feel genuine, the ambiance around him feeling more like a set piece than a gesture of genuine affection. "Y/N," he began, his voice taking on a rehearsed quality that made your heart sink even further. "I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and I just really think it’s time we take the next step together. What do you say?"

The words, meant to be romantic, felt hollow and oddly generic, as if they were pulled from a script rather than from his heart. Standing there, with Spencer's heartfelt confession still burning bright in your mind, Duncan’s display felt even more jarring.

The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows as Duncan's unexpected question hung in the air. “What?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

The word slipped out before you could even think, a reflex born of surprise and clarity. “No.” It was firm, decisive, echoing slightly in the quiet room.

Duncan’s face crumbled, his brow furrowing in confusion and hurt. “What?” he echoed again, his voice a blend of disbelief and dismay.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. “Uh, this is just so out of left field. I mean, we have never once talked about marriage.”

Duncan’s response was quick, a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. “But, babe, we live together,” he reasoned, as if cohabitation alone was a precursor to marriage.

“So? You basically ignored me for a whole month,” you countered, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside you.

“Right, but then we fixed things, so we know we work together,” he argued, trying to paint a picture of a resolved partnership.

You couldn’t help but let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Solid logic,” you replied sarcastically, the absurdity of the conversation becoming more apparent.

Duncan's frustration was palpable. “Are you really being sarcastic right now?”

“Yeah, and I wish you were too,” you shot back, wishing the whole scenario was just a bad joke.

Duncan’s next words were sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Fuck you, bitch.”

You froze for a moment, the harshness of his words striking deep. “What did you just call me?” Your voice was calm, almost eerily so, as you fixed your gaze on him.

“A bitch,” he repeated, his voice cold and hard.

“Get out,” you said, your tone final. You stood up, your posture rigid with resolve.

“No, I live here too,” he protested, but there was a waver in his voice now.

“Whose name is on the lease? Get out before I call my team. Do you want Derek and Emily to escort you out?” Your words were a clear threat, backed by the certainty that you would follow through if needed.

Duncan hesitated, his anger giving way to a flicker of fear as he considered your words. Then, in a sudden burst of spite, he hurled the ring box at you. “Keep it, I don’t want your bad juju.”

With that, he stormed out, the door slamming behind him with a force that seemed to shake the apartment. Silence descended, heavy and absolute, as you stood there, the ring box at your feet, a stark reminder of the relationship that had just disintegrated before your eyes.

—

Spencer Reid had cried more times in his life than he cared to count. He cried when he was bullied as a child, when his father walked out on him and his mother, when he made the heartbreaking decision to place his mom in a care facility. He cried when he was kidnapped, when Emily died—or so he thought. The list of tears was long, but today, he added another entry: the day he told his best friend he was in love with her, only for her to stand there as still as a statue, silent and unmoving, until his heart shattered so completely that he had to leave before she saw him break down.

Now, he lay in bed, the lights off, his eyes puffy and wet, replaying every scenario he wished had happened instead of the painful reality he’d experienced. He sniffled, whimpered, and curled into himself, desperate for a do-over, a second chance to make it right. But life wasn’t that kind.

A knock sounded at his door, pulling him from his misery. He ignored it, too consumed by his sorrow to entertain company. The knocking persisted, three more times, before it finally ceased. Relief was short-lived, however, as his phone began to ring. Without checking the caller ID, Spencer answered, his voice sharp and uncharacteristically harsh. “What?”

“Spence, it’s me. Please open the door.”

He’d never moved so fast in his life. Leaping out of bed in such a hurry, he promptly tripped over his own feet and crashed to the floor with a thud. “Ouch,” he muttered, pushing himself up with a wince. Ignoring the ache, he scrambled to the door, swinging it open with such force that it nearly bounced back. His heart clenched at the sight of you standing there, your expression filled with concern as you took in his tear-streaked face.

“Hi, Spence,” you greeted softly, your voice gentle as if trying not to scare him away.

“Hi,” he croaked out, barely holding himself together.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your tone tentative.

He nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. Once inside, you turned to face him, clearly gathering your thoughts.

“So, uh, I’m just going to talk. You can listen or interrupt, whatever you want,” you offered, trying to ease the tension.

Spencer nodded again, still too emotionally raw to form coherent words.

You took a deep breath. “Duncan proposed to me.” The words hung in the air, a bombshell that detonated in Spencer’s chest. His heart broke all over again, shattering into a billion pieces. “I said no.”

His head shot up so fast he thought he might have given himself whiplash. “What?”

“Yeah, it was bad. He had red roses and soy candles set up in the living room.” Spencer’s nose scrunched in distaste; he knew how much you hated those things. “And when he left, he called me a bitch and threw the ring at me.”

Spencer’s fists clenched, a protective anger surging through him. “I’ll kill him.”

“Nah, someone else will. I’m sure of it,” you replied with a small, rueful smile.

His anger softened, replaced by confusion. “So…what are you doing here?”

You looked at him with determination and vulnerability. “What ring would you buy me?”

“Huh?” Spencer blinked, taken aback by the sudden question.

“If you were to propose to me, say tomorrow. What kind of ring would you buy for me?” you asked, your eyes searching his.

“A round cut diamond with a thin silver band,” he answered without hesitation, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

“I’m in love with you too,” you confessed, your voice steady, but your eyes shimmering with emotion.

“Wait, what?” Spencer was incredulous, his mind racing to process what you’d just said. But even as his heart tried to catch up, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Duncan got me a thick gold ring with a pear-cut lab-grown pink diamond,” you explained, shaking your head at the mismatch.

“Did he know you at all?” Spencer asked, the smile growing despite the shock still coursing through him.

“Apparently not. I’m going to kiss you now,” you declared, stepping closer, leaving Spencer no time to overthink, no time to doubt—just enough time to feel the world tilt as your lips met his.

It was gentle at first, a tentative brush of lips, as if testing the waters. But then something shifted, a dam breaking as all the unspoken feelings, the years of longing and missed chances, came rushing to the surface. Spencer responded in kind, his hands lifting to cradle your face with a tenderness that belied the storm inside him. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped in the heat of the moment.

He poured everything he couldn’t say into that kiss—all the love, all the fear, all the hope. The kiss deepened, growing in intensity, but it remained sweet, a quiet revelation of the love that had always been there, just beneath the surface.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and slightly trembling, your foreheads rested against each other’s, both of you taking a moment to simply exist in the aftermath of the kiss. Spencer’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with wonder and relief.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice equally soft. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“Better late than never,” he said, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face.

You laughed softly, the sound breaking the last of the tension between you. With your hand still resting on his chest, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart, mirroring your own.

Spencer’s hand slipped from your cheek to your hand, fingers intertwining with yours as if afraid to let go. “So, where do we go from here?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of hopefulness.

“Wherever you want, Spence,” you replied, your smile reassuring. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Spencer’s eyes twinkled with affection and mischief, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I never want to room with Hotch again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. “Just me?”

Spencer’s expression softened, his gaze unwavering as he responded with quiet sincerity. “It’s always been you.”

The words hung in the air, filled with all the meaning and truth he had held back for so long. Before you could fully process the weight of his confession, he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, as if savoring every second, every sensation.

The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s embrace. This kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a confirmation of everything that had been unspoken until now.

When you finally parted, both of you breathless but smiling, it was clear that nothing would ever be the same. And that was perfectly okay.

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tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece @dreamsarebig

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hybridirl · 8 months

Text

i’ve never done this before…

18 + only, please!

ellie x f!loser!reader

a/n: so basically i was on janitor ai because i’m genuinely an addicted freak and this was inspired by a chat i had :3 im also replaying tlou2 bc i cant stop i need it i need it i need it. also i think a LOT more things make sense now, so i think you should replay after u play it.

brief summary: ellie is ur big sister’s best friend! but, unfortunately you’re dubbed an “annoying little sister,” your sister’s not home, ellie’s high when she comes over, and ur a loser nerd who can’t deal with confrontation :(. (au if it wasn’t obvious!)

tw / DUBCON?, ellie is very mean, degrading, praise, pet names, reader is a virgin, small age gap if you really squint, porn without a plot, rushed sex, scissoring (tribbling?), use of y/n i think…

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚

with a grunt, you pulled your pajama pants up the rest of the way. you were headed to the door after hearing seven hard knocks on the door.

“hello—“ you began, cutting yourself off when you see ellie, your sister’s best friend. “ellie?” you glanced behind her, then behind yourself. “she’s not home right now.”

“yeah, yeah,” she slurred, and your lips went into a thin line from her state, so obviously intoxicated. “she told me come ‘n wait. she’s gettin’ her shit rocked, ‘r whatever. she dropped me off ‘ya know? said you wouldn’t mind. you don’ mind, do you?”

being such a caring person had its ups and downs. you weren’t fond of ellie, and she wasn’t fond of you. she had been your biggest bully throughout the entirety of middle and high school. but, you couldn’t deny her entry. she could get hurt or worse, and you didn’t want that. or to be responsible of it.

you adjusted your glasses, eyeing her with a thoughtful look. her eyes were halflidded, red, and she smelled disgusting. she eyed you right back, her stare almost intimidating.

“no, ellie. i don’t mind,” you said begrudgingly, stepping aside to allow her in. you watched her make her way around the all-too-familiar home while you shut the door. you mentally prepared yourself for tending to her needs; you knew she’d tell if you hadn’t. you also prepared for the anger she would inevitably feel. she was an angry person when intoxicated. you leaned against the door and watched her opened the fridge.

“what do you got?” ellie asked, shutting the refrigerator and looking at you. “what’re you gonna make?”

“i don’t know,” you responded and took a glance at the stove. you hadn’t noticed what she took from the fridge, only gasping when you heard the familiar sound of a beer opening. “hey, hey, hey! that’s my dad’s!” you watched ellie shrug and give you a “so what?” look. “stop it, that’s not good for you!” you rushed over, reaching for the beer, but her rough hand kept you in place as she chugged it down. “ellie, stop! you’re already high, that’s gonna make it worse; ellie, stop!”

“and what the fuck do you know?” she asked as she slammed the beer bottle of the counter, “you stupid fuckin’ loser, what the fuck is wrong with you? i’ll do what-the-fuck-ever i want. you’re such a fucking lame-ass, you won’t even take a lil sip o’ this thing,” she stuck the beer can up to your mouth, which you turned away from, “that’s what i thought, you stupid bitch. you’re probably a virgin, too, huh? you don’t even try- nobody even tries for you. no man, no woman, no whatever. never been in a relationship, never been in fuckin’ nothing. you are such a fucking loser.”

your jaw was slack, almost looking like a fish out of water as it tried to shut and open.

“you’re too high for this,” you said slowly, still shocked at her words. you took a step back, your back pressing against the island counter.

“you don’t know the first thing about ‘too high,’ jackass. bet you never had a dick in you before. too busy studyin’ your stupid fucking books to be the good girl you are. can’t even do this because you’re always bein’ a teacher’s pet, always bein’ a goody-two-shoes, know it all, fucking bitch. probably got a few toys like the desperate freak you are. maybe a dildo? nah, you want that pussy t’stay tight, huh?” you thought it couldn’t get worse than the insults before, but this was insane. your eyes were wide, shock filling your features.

“ellie!” you gasped in horror and embarrassment, “i— i’m calling my sister!”

“you’re a fucking snitch!” she giggled, pointing at you. “she doesn’t care what the fuck i’m saying to you. she’s too busy slutting herself out to give a fuck about your pathetic ass, baby.”

“go away, ellie,” you whimpered out, eyes at the ground. you attempted to push past her, but her hands gripped your wrists. “please.”

“you’re not getting rid of me,” she growled, her beer-breath filling your nostrils, “you’re a goddamn joke. i’m not going anywhere ‘til i’m good ‘n ready. you just know i’m right.” she leaned in, her lips brushing your cheek as she whispered deep into your ear, “you just want my hands all over you, don’t you, y/n? i’ve seen how you watched me. you want a real woman’s hands on ‘ya. all of over your pretty body, hm?”

“no,” you whispered right back, your brows furrowed. this was your sister’s best friend. this was just… wrong; you couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t right. and she was high! she didn’t know what she was doing, what she was saying, but her touch felt so…

“don’t you lie to me,” she huffed her breath hot in your ear, “you wanna get touched bad. you know you do. you want my hands slidin’ down your pretty panties and touchin’ that clit. make you cum all on my hand. you want that, don’t you?”

“ellie,” you almost moaned out at her dirty talk, your brows knitted together in conflict. your hand went to cover your mouth as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pjs and simultaneously your underwear.

“let it out, baby,” she told as your hand muffled a broken moan, “you’re already so, so wet for me. this pussy’s just beggin’ for my touch, huh?” her finger-pad ran across your clit and your knees buckled. she giggled in response, a lazy grin plastered on her face. “mm, ya feel that? this’s what y’ve been missin’ out on with all that nerdy bullshit you do.” her fingers slipped easily inside you, making your eyes roll with pleasure; another moan escaped your throat. “y’so tight. just like i thought.” she pulled her fingers out, quickly giving them a lick before tugging your bottoms down. “oh, baby…” she moaned at the sight, licking her lips as she took you in. “look at that pretty pussy. mhm, ‘n all f’r me, huh?” she knelt down, getting face to face with your cunt. “answer me.” she kissed at your inner thighs. all you could do was watch, trembling under her dominating touch.

you yelped, jumping in surprise as she bit your thigh harshly.

“i said answer.”

“y-yes! all for you, ‘s all for you,” you whimpered, whining as her mouth finally met with your drooling pussy. your resolve had slipped away, only thinking about that needy, touch-starved vulva of yours. “oh, ellie…” she grinned as she watching you come undone, your fingers slipping into her hair and tugging at it. she lapped and lapped at your clit, tongue running circles around the sensitive bud. she gave it a last kiss before she pulled away, smirking at your distress.

“preview, baby. all that was. go to your room, m’followin’ you.”

you were anxious to walk, taking just a moment before giddily rushing to your room. the masculine woman easily followed your direction, shutting the door hard behind her as she pulled you down to the bed with her. her hands were immediately on you as you lay atop her, caressing and running down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing.

“you’re so ready for me baby, aren’t you?” she asked with a small smirk playing at her lips. “you wanna grind that pretty pussy on mine, don’t you?”

“i-i’ve never done this before, i-i don’t know what to do,” you admitted, although she already knew your circumstance.

“makin’ me do all the work, you pretty lil pillow princess?” she teased, that same lazy grin on her face. she easily flipped you over, watching your eyes widen in surprise. “god, how are you so perfect…” she moaned softly to herself, her hands running down your sides, down your legs, and down your calves. she reached her jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them down quickly. you gulped as you eyed her pubic mound, her dark hair trimmed finely.. she lifted your hips up, appreciating your vulva once more. she used her thumb to lift up your clitoral hood, bending down to meet the pearl with her tongue. “mm, god, i can’t get enough of you. pull your shirt up, wanna see those tits ‘ve been wantin’ to see.” you did as you were told, quickly pulling your nightshirt up and showing her your breasts. a groan left her throat as her hands reached out to touch them, tweaking and rolling your nipples between her fingers.

“please,” you whined, your head tilted back. “please, ellie…”

“oh, i know you’re so needy, huh? never done this before? never been touched so good by another girl b’fore, huh?” ellie teased once more, and all you could do was nod. it was all true. “say it, baby. tell me how much of a loser you are.”

with an embarrassed grimace, you obliged, “i-i’m a big loser. ‘ve never, ever gotten laid ‘n i wanna… oh!” you gasped as you felt the sensation of her pussy meet yours. “ellie…” her hips ground against yours, your clits bumping and running across each other.

“you like this? my pussy all over yours?” she growled, rolling her hips to meet your cunt. “fuck, you’re so wet.” you moaned out, your hands trying to find a place to stay as they flailed. they gripped the sheets and you watched above as her pussy slid across yours. you both glistened with a thin layer of sweat, your bodies becoming hot with arousal. “you feel so fucking good.”

“yes,” you cried, “more.” and she gave you more, her hips rolling with fervor while you writhed in pleasure. “p-please— ellie!”

“yeah, scream my name you little slut,” she purred, her auburn hair sticking to her sweaty face. “let ‘em know— let the neighbors know you’re finally getting laid.”

you continued to moan her name, completely drunk on this feeling. she let out small little ‘just like that’s’ as your voice echoed off the walls of your room.

it was intense, your bodies moving together and so perfectly in sync. sweat dripped from her forehead onto your belly, slightly coating your skin. her hands gripped your chest as she ground against you, the position slightly awkward, but pleasing nonetheless as your heats mushed together in symphony. sloppy squelches filled your ears, almost drowned out by your moans and cries as she took you.

“i’m gonna,” you began, tears welling up in your pretty eyes, “i’m gonna cum, ellie!”

“yeah? right on my pussy? cum right on my pussy, baby,” she moaned, her hands reaching her cup her own breast. you moaned, following her command like a dog as your canal contracting around nothing, costing her slick folds in all your essence. your body convulsed as you came, and the sight forced a moan out of her throat. “yeah, that’s it, my good girl, fu—ck… i’m cumming!” with her orgasm following in suit, she gripped your leg hard, riding out her orgasm as you tried to come down from your own. you whined from the overstimulation, feeling her arousal spread out on your flesh. she shushed you, her index finger on your lips as she calmed her breathing. she dropped your leg, plopping beside you with a grunt.

“t-that was good,” you said to her, your eyes lingering on her glistening face.

“mhm, now you get to brag to a—ll your nerdy, little virgin friends that you,” she jabbed a finger, “got laid.”

“you’re mean,” you huffed, a little pout on your face. she smirked, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and bringing you in to kiss.

“yeah?” she chuckled, “but you like it.”

2K notes · View notes

fruittt-punchhh · 3 months

Text

Pop My Cherry!

all parts

Synopsis: your dad's best friend is none other than Toji Fushiguro, and you can't help but wonder what he could do with his hands.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x reader.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! smut, afab! reader, fem! reader, dad's best friend! Toji, suggestiveness, cursing, inexperienced (ish) reader, reader is a virgin but has done things ya know, female masturbation, male masturbation, mutual masturbation, getting caught in the act, reader smokes weed, alcohol usage, pet/ affectionate names, age gap (reader is 24, Toji is in his 30s), Toji calls reader (doll, slut, bitch, etc.), big dick! Toji, cunnilingus (f! receiving), fingering, just smut tbh.

Word Count: 3.7k-ish

Notes: hello again lovelies! here is pt. 4 of pop my cherry! I hope you guys have been digging it bc I def have❤️‍🔥🫶 also, reader finally gets her coochie ate🗣️🗣️🗣️can we get some w’s in the chat or some hoorays because we finally made it lmao. lemme know what you think!!! enjoy you filthy rat🐀💖🫶💋‼️ also, credits to kithsune and reveriesources for the banners! check them out!

“Poor baby, can’t even make yourself cum. You need Toji’s help, huh? Lemme show you, love”

Toji has you on your back with your knees pressed to your chest, his mouth hovering over your pussy. You can feel his breath on you as he takes in the sight before him.

“You have such a cute fucking cunt, you know that? Can’t believe no one’s knocked you up yet, girl.”

You feel your pussy clench around nothing as you try not to beg him. Anything would be better than him staring you down like this.

“T-Toji, I’m nervous. I-I’ve never done any of this before, what if I-“

“Just be quiet and let me eat, y/n. Haven’t eaten all day and I’m fucking starving.”

He trails sloppy kisses from your thighs, down to your juicy pussy. He licks a long stripe on the side of your pussy, and sucks on your outer lip. He chuckles at how you squirm. He loves watching you melt for him. He’s desperate to pound into you but he knows he’ll break you if he doesn’t properly stretch you out first. Even the most, ahem, experienced of women have a hard time adjusting to his size.

“Lemme make you feel good, okay doll? Wanna watch you come undone for me.”

Without any warning, he flattens his tongue to lap up all of your juices as he licks your entire pussy. You moan and instinctively grab a fistful of his hair to ground yourself.

“Kinky are we, huh? Gonna have to grab it harder than that.”

You do as your told as Toji eats you out like a man starved. He’s full on moaning into your cunt as he sucks on your swollen clit. You taste so fucking good for him. Like candy.

“Like w-what?”

Oh. Toji freezes before he’s looking up into your eyes.

“Yeah baby doll, this pussy is sweet like fucking candy. I could do this for hours, but I don’t think you could handle it. I need you to cum all in my mouth, can you do that f’me princess?”

You cry out as he goes back to devouring you, bucking your hips into his mouth. You feel out of control at this point. You’ve been basically edging yourself all day thinking about Toji. Now, he’s in front of you eating you like this is his last meal. You didn’t know how much more you could take. You felt that familiar burning in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm approached.

“F-fuck, mngh Tojiiiii, m’gonna c-cum”

Shit, he wanted to say something to send you over the edge, but he didn’t want to stop his work on your clit for fear of you not finishing. Besides, you tasted like fucking gold on his tongue and he’d be damned if he let a little dirty talk stop you from cumming on his face.

“Oh my, ohmygooood, m’cumming baby fuuuuck”

Your orgasm crashed into you, hard, and you thought you were going to pass out. No one has ever even touched you like this before, let alone devoured you whole. It felt sinfully good and you were cumming so quickly. You had no idea why you had waited this long to get some head, but you were surely addicted at any rate.

Toji doesn’t let you rest from your high, instead intent on overstimulating your abused cunt. He needed to taste every last drop, so he shoves his thick tongue inside your tight hole. If he could drink you until the well ran dry, he would.

“T-Toji please, s’too much, mmmmhh”

You were seeing stars at this point. His tongue plunging in and out of you, and his big nose was rubbing on your clit in a way that you thought should be illegal. You couldn’t help but hump into his face, desperately chasing your next orgasm much too soon.

Toji came up for air to take you in as you lie before him. He had to grip his cock again, nearly bruising the base of it. You had this dreamy, fucked out look on your face. Tears streaming down your temples, hair ruffled, and lips nearly bleeding from how hard you were biting them. He still held your legs taught against your chest, not giving you anywhere to run.

“It’s not too much, girl, I know you can take it. We’re just getting started, babe.” He says as he licks his lips and chin obscenely, trying not to waste any of your sweet nectar. He releases the hold on your legs, much to your relief. You finally felt like you could take a deep breath for the first time since you two began.

Your relief was cut short.

“Hold your legs up for me doll, need’ta stretch her out nice and good for me. Don’t want ya’ cutting my dick in half with that tight pussy of yours”

You obediently wrapped your hands around the back of your knees, pulling your legs back up into their original position. Of course, the original position had you bent entirely in half thanks to Toji’s brute strength, but this would do just fine. You bite your lip as you look down at him. You know what’s coming. You’ve been thinking about it for the past twelve hours and now that it’s happening, you don’t know if you should be elated or terrified.

“Good girl, hold ‘em just like f’me”

Toji looks at your glistening cunt and feels like he is suddenly 25 again, bursting with hormones and energy. Your pretty pink pussy was making a wet spot on the bed, but a little more couldn’t hurt right? He spits on your pussy, watching it drip down your clit, your folds, and inside of you. He was supposed to be ruining you, but goddammit if he didn’t feel as ruined as ever looking at your cute, helpless expression.

You yelp out as Toji lightly slaps your pussy. Not enough to hurt, but the stinging was still there. At this point, you were so desperate for him, you think you’d let him kill you if it’d meant he’d fuck you first.”

“S’probably gonna hurt, but I’ve gotta get you ready, okay love?”

(not toji being.. sweet?)

Toji runs his two fingers along your glistening slit, coating himself with your wetness. He places a sweet kiss to your clit before he’s pushing his middle finger into you, slowly.

“H-holy shiiit, ohmyg-ooood,” you choke out. It was better than you could have imagined. You fingered yourself once in a blue moon. It wasn’t your favorite past time since you could never make yourself cum that way. But this felt worlds better than what your small fingers could do. He’s barely starting pumping into you before you’re a whining mess underneath him.

Toji is rutting his cock into the mattress below, desperate for any sort of touch. You were driving him insane with those cute little gasps and whimpers. He could only dream of how slutty you’d sound when you were stuffed full of his cock.

“Fuck, look at you. Already ‘bout to cum, huh?”

You lift your head up to look down at Toji while he finger fucks you. He’s going almost too slow, but the stretch told you it was necessary. He wasn’t even eating your pussy anymore. His eyes were glued to the beauty in front of him.

He loved watching how your tight hole almost sucked his digit in, and he couldn’t imagine how heavenly you would feel clenching and sucking around his cock. He felt his mouth watering for another taste of you. He locks his lips to your clit and with a harsh suck, he starts moving his finger faster.

You were a writhing mess for him and you already felt your orgasm creeping up on you yet again. You were sure you could cum just from him fingering you alone. The sight of him taking in every part of you, watching you so closely while you whined for him; it was too much. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he starts suckling on your bud and pumping into you faster and faster.

He keeps pulling away from your clit, sucking on it and releasing with an obscene pop! He keeps giving you little kitten licks to tease you while you huff in frustration. You grab a chunk of his black hair and pull him into you, forcing him to stay glued to your clit. In doing so, you released one of your legs, letting it rest on the bed as Toji devoured you.

Well now, that simply wouldn’t do. While he didn’t mind you being aggressive with him, he needed those plush thighs up and out of the way so he could consume every part of you.

“No ma’am, hold those legs or imma do it for you,” he winks, and you feel yourself losing it. You didn’t know if you had the strength to hold them anymore. The pace he was going at, his tongue feeling too fucking good on your clit. Your legs were starting to shake and they were tired, and you were scared you might clasp them together on his head whenever he made you cum next.

Noticing your failure to pull your legs back up, he takes his hand off of his long cock and uses it to shove your knees back to their original position.

“H-holy shiiiit Toj-“ you can’t even finish your exclamation before your breath is stolen from you. He pushes another thick finger inside of your soppy cunt and just goes to town, sucking and moaning on your clit.

“-told ya’ t’watch that mouth, bitch,” he says, muffled by your sweet pussy as he tries his hardest not to fuck you within an inch of your life on his fingers.

The stretch was painful, but it only added to the sensations you were overwhelmed by. Your high still hadn’t worn off, so Toji, who would normally be considered a 10/10 pussy eater, was feeling more like a 100/10.

“Mmmmh, I bet you wanna cum so bad, huh doll? Should I give it to you? Have you earned it?”

Toji smirks as he sees the look on your face. He has never seen anyone look so desperate and needy for anything in their life. As if you were a glass of water in the desert and she was dying of thirst. That look might kill him if he stares too long.

While he awaits your answer, he continues torturing your pussy with the slow thrusts of his big fingers.

“Y-yess, oh god, yes, I-I promise I’ve been good for you, sir”

Have you lost your mind?? The nicknames Toji gave you made you weak, so you wanted to try one out. What if he thought it was stupid???

Sir? He didn’t want to let on that the little nickname you just gave him had his dick spurting precum all over the mattress. You were so desperate to cum, he started to almost feel bad for you.

“Sir, hah, you must wanna cum real bad, huh? Do it then, bitch. Cum on my fingers if you want it so bad,” he says as he quickens his pace, and starts curling his fingers inside you with every thrust. He figured he had teased you enough and you looked like you’d explode if you didn’t get your release. He started sucking on your clit again, anxious to feel how tight you’d get when you came for him.

“Fuck, baby please, just-just like that, I-I’m, shit, gonna cum, ohmygoooood,” you whined. You thought it couldn’t get any better until he was curling his fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. That was the spot you would fail to reach every time you fingered yourself, so you hardly bothered with it. He kept hitting that spot, over and over again. You were going to cum any second now. Your felt your stomach tighten so much you were scared you’d burst. You knew your orgasm was approaching, but it felt so much more.. intense. It was almost like the pressure you feel when you have to pee really bad, you thought. But you had used the restroom when you came in from tanning, so surely you didn’t have to go again, right???

Toji looked up at you while he ate you, listening to your moans turn into gasps and cut off breaths. You were so close, he knew it. He couldn’t let up now, he needed to feel you cum. He had to mentally prepare himself for how tight you’d get when you were cumming on his cock later.

He speeds up his movements, not letting you have a moment without constant stimulation. He was going to pull this out of you one way or another. With one final thrust of his fingers, you were screaming.

Your pussy clenches on his fingers so tight, they’re nearly pushed out of you from the sheer pressure. He never lets up, drinking in your juices as you squirt all over his face. Jesus Christ, you couldn’t stop. You were groaning with how intensely your orgasm washed over you. You thought squirting was just a thing in porn! You never knew any of your friends to do it. But here you were, gushing around Toji’s big fingers like you were on cam.

Toji thought he might cum seeing you like this. You were screaming underneath him, attempting (poorly) at pushing his head back, your thighs squeezing together as the stimulation was beginning to be too much. Your pussy squeezes his fingers so tight as you squirt all over him. He was in fucking heaven.

“Atta’ girl, look at you. You’re ready for me now, yeah?”

“T-Toji?”

You look down at him, still shaking as he pulls his fingers out of you, the sudden loss of his warmth making you whimper. You watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your cum off of them. He even licks his fucking palm. God, he was feral. He still wasn’t looking at you. Was he talking to your pussy?

“Shut up, girl, wasn’t talking to you. I was asking her, hah,” he laughs. He was so far gone he didn’t know if he’d be able to go another moment without your pretty pink lips on his cock.

“O-oh, s-sorry, Toj-“

He interrupts you, not giving you a chance to finish whatever apology you had come up with.

“You talk too much, brat. Need to stuff that mouth shut.” Just the thought of his dick anywhere near that pretty mouth had him feeling out of control.

Opting to keep your mouth shut like Toji wanted demanded, you (somehow) managed to sit up, crawling on your hands and knees towards him. You continue forward until he is leaning on the footboard of your bed, with his hands placed behind him, holding him up. And what a sight it was.

His cock was stiff, leaking precum all over his shirt. The sight of you crawling towards him like a little minx, tits hanging in front of him, had him going insane.”

“Come here, doll, lemme show you how good you taste”

You sit on his lap, being careful to not sit all the way down on his cock. You were still so sensitive from the orgasms he had yanked out of you. You had to hover on top of him so you wouldn’t yelp from the overstimulation.

You wrap your arms around his neck, ready to have your lips on his after such a long intermission. You close your eyes, ready for him to meet you halfway, when you feel his (still wet) hand grab your chin roughly.

“What, are you scared of it or somethin’, woman? Put that pussy on me, bitch, need to feel how good I did for ya’,” he growls, grabbing your hips as he pushes your heat down onto his throbbing cock.

He wasn’t going to last at this rate. Your hands were in his hair, tugging on it while you moan into his mouth. He had your sloppy cunt running up and down his length, covering every inch of him in your lust. He thrusts his tongue in your mouth, wanting you to taste how good you were for him. It didn’t exactly taste like candy like he claimed earlier, but it wasn’t bad. It was a little sweet, even. He was intoxicating.

Your hips were aching as Toji’s hands were bruising you from the grip he had on them. You felt another orgasm approaching, very apparent from your shaky legs and pathetic moans.

“You sound like such a little slut for me, baby. Ya’know, next time you should record it. We’d make a killing, you just sound too good.”

Next time??? You hadn’t even thought that far ahead yet. You were so lost in the moment you failed to realize that Toji may not ever be able to get enough of you. It wasn’t far from the truth to say you felt the same too, as conflicting as it was. At this point, you were too far gone and you felt too good to care anymore.

You stilled your hips, needing a break and you found it hard to talk with your pussy grinding on Toji’s lap like you were, “T-Toji, god that’s so embar-“

“I didn’t say stop, woman. Learn how to talk while I please you or we’re not gettin’ anywhere,” he says as he grabs your plump ass and rubs you against his cock again.

“S-sorry sir, I just feel like… I s-sound weird, mmmnh,” you respond, moaning as he plants a firm hand on your ass cheek, spanking you.

“Shut the fuck up little girl. Can you see what you did to me, huh? I’m about to cum just looking at you and you sound like a fucking pornstar,” you can’t help but hide behind your hands as you blush for the umpteenth time tonight.

“Don’t hide that pretty face, doll. Ya’know what? You don’t have to post it or nothin’. Just send it to me so I got something to beat off too later, okay?”

The thought of Toji pleasing himself to your voice had you melting. Maybe he’s just super pent up from work and hasn’t got laid in a while? Surely that had to be it. You were a 6/10 on a good day, and you had maybe 1% of the sexual experience that he had.

“Okay, okay yeah we can try next time, I-I guess. Would you really…. touch yourself to it? Why?” You ask, knowing that the plethora of porn available at his disposal was immense. Why would he pick a shitty homemade video of you moaning for him for jack off material??

“That’s it, good girl. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, you know that, y/n? If I had a video of you moaning on top of my dick, it might be the only thing I cum to ever again”

Toji was fucked. Since when is he this honest? To a woman he barely knew, nonetheless. It was so true, though. Having you whining for him, pleasing yourself by using his cock on cam? Pfft, he might not even need to get laid again if you got that video (false).

Your face was beet red at this point. You moaned in response to his confession. Instead of question him further, you decided to take the initiative for once. You kiss him as you finally rub your hands under his tight shirt, feeling how rock hard his torso was. He was sweaty and had just a few chest hairs and you didn’t know why you wanted to rip his shirt off so fucking badly.

“If you wanna see, all you have to do is ask, hun”

“Please Toji, I want to see all of you. Please, I’ll do anything,” you confess, because it was true. You wanted to see him just as exposed as you were right now.

“Oh, anything, huh? Even if I wanted you to suck every last drop of your cum off my cock?” If you kept grinding your little pussy all over him like this, he was going to finish well before he intended to. If you sucked him off, at least he could have a break from the constant friction you were giving him.

“Oh… I mean, yes, yeah I would. I wanna be a good girl for you, Toji,” and to be fair, you had been dreaming about how he would taste, and how quickly he’d fill up your mouth with his massive cock. Your mouth started to water as you waited for his response.

Jesus Christ. He didn’t think you’d be so quick to agree, but he also didn’t know just how wrapped around his finger you were. The thought of stuffing your throat full of him was intoxicating, and he was scared he may not last long enough to fuck your tight cunt like he needed to.

“That’s what I thought, baby doll,”

He watches your heavenly figure as you lift off of him, scooting back to come face to face with his throbbing dick.

You were impossibly nervous. You wanted to do a good job, but all the other blowjobs you’ve given before were for much, much smaller dicks. You’ve never even made a guy finish with just your mouth before, always being interrupted by roommates or your jaw being so tired that you had to jerk them off to finish the job. But you were determined to make Toji feel good after how hard he made you cum.

“Uh-uh, what do ya’ think you’re doin’, woman? Get on your fucking knees,” he spits. He knows with his extreme size and girth, it’d be much easier for you to take more of him if you were on your knees and had your throat at that angle. Plus, seeing you on your knees throating his cock was a requirement at this point.

“Okay, yeah sure, s-sorry,” you say as you step off the bed and get on your knees in the floor in front of the wall. You sit back on your heels as you wait for him, the excitement rushing through your entire body.

“Girl stop apologizing and just make it up to me, yeah?”

pt. 5

@scorpiosugar mwahahah

980 notes · View notes

finsplurtz · 4 months

Text

can’t dom — katsuki.bakugou

— subtop ! male.reader x dombot ! Katsuki Bakugo

— contents : dom!bottom bakugo to sub , riding , challenge lol! overstim , crying , biting , -150 aura

warnings : none that ik of…

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

last time you fucked bakugou he tried taking control. you guys were mid fuck when he pounced on you and tried riding you but you quickly regained that control by fucking him into next week.

he wasn’t upset at the moment but afterwards, definitely. he refused to speak to you or even acknowledge you.. but he couldn’t go very far with the silent treatment as he started to crave you again.

“yn why don’t you let me dom.” he asked when you guys were alone.

“well….because you probably suck at it and you won’t make me cum, I have my own pace” you smiled and kissed his cheek while he shoved you away.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW I SUCK AT IT I COULD BE REALLY GOOD.” he yelled at you, you sighed.

“fineee if you really wanna try to, go ahead but I guarantee you won’t be able to make me cum”

“you’ll fucking see you bastard..” he grit his teeth and stormed out of the room.

well this should be erm fun

“I’ll make you eat your words bitch..” said the blonde while he pressed your tip against his hole. you were lying down on your bed with your hands behind your head watching your cute boyfriend try to use you as his fuck toy.

as expected, he was going painfully slow. taking his time. not on purpose… you’re just really big and getting you inside him without your help takes mad time.

“nngh…” he moaned at the stretch, he wasn’t even half way down and you started to contemplate wether or not you should just knock him out and fuck him restlessly, enough that he forgives you for not letting him dominate.

once he FINALLY got you all the way in he was already out of breath and flustered, his hands rested on your abdomen and he looked at your…..unsatisfied face…..

his breath hitched and he grit his teeth.

“I-i can make you…cum..! I won’t stop till you’re..crying from me m-milking you..” he smirked as best as he could, you just smiled at his cuteness, you were fighting the urge to fuck him up right then and there….

He slowly lifted himself up and lowered himself down, his own body already twitching. He’d glance at you to see some sort of reaction but you were just watching it happen, with a nonchalant expression.

His bit the inside of his cheeks and picked up the pace, hitting his own prostate harder and faster drawing nasty whiny moans out of him.

he peeked at you and felt his dick throb at the sight of you panting with furrowed eyebrows. He started getting restless, bouncing on your cock. the sound of skin slapping skin and moans filled the room along with the sweet smell of sex.

“haa…auhn..~ s..sto..” the blonde whined feeling your hands gently caress his milky thighs, he harshly grabbed your hands and placed them above your head as to…….pin you

your boyfriend being shorter than you, he was basically laying on you and gave up on trying to hold your hands back. He continued to fuck himself on your dick, his moans sounded clearer since he was closer to you, he was making this way harder.

“uugh-! Imma c…c..uaahhn~!” He jolted up, his cum spilling on both yours and his stomach. you quietly sighed and pet his head as he was trying to catch his breath.

he was confused but then realized…..you still hadn’t come yet….? he sat up and looked you in the face with an angry expression.

“I…I’m not.. done…” his shaky hands helped him lift himself up and SLAM himself down on your twitching dick, you let out a very small grunt of pleasure and he grinned.

he continued to do that, just slam himself on your length while squeezing around you, it hadn’t even been 40 minutes and this was already taking a lot of out him, you weren’t even close to coming…

he continued to do that for at least 2..and a half hours

by now your dick hurt from it being rubbed on too much, but other than that you were totally fine. Your boyfriend on the other end….. his thighs would twitch out of nowhere, his shaky arms couldn’t even help him lift himself up. Tears stained his frustrated face, a bit of drool slipping out. he’d made a sticky mess downstairs, his cum covered his dick and your stomach, he didn’t have the energy to get it up anymore.

“ugh…w-why won’t you…c-c…cum..” he slowly began to grind on you to maybe get you to cum. The only reason you haven’t taken over was cause well, he asked you not to and he was DETERMINED.

“katsuki, are you done?” you brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. His eyes widened…….you weren’t…close at all..

more tears welled up in his eyes and his lip trembled, you almost felt bad…

you sat up and he squeaked feeling you accidentally hit his sweet spot. “you did well, dear..” you kissed his lips. He was too tired to fight you off, his eyes were starting to flutter shut

“k- katsuki don’t pass out on me…….” you gently tapped his face to keep him awake. He had riled you up, there’s no way you can go to sleep now… but he’d come so many times:(

“fine just…let me..” he gasped as you lifted his ass up and slowly slid him back down, this was like the pace he was going at. you can’t come to this… you began to fuck into him quicker and rougher, his chest rose and fell rapidly as louder moans filled the bedroom.

“UGH FU- STOP S..SLOW D-DOWN—! HURTS..!” he bit your shoulder hardd, you hissed and pushed his back on the bed continuing to fuck him while watching him freak out and lose himself in the pleasure.

“NNH..C..CUM..” his nails digging into your thighs as he twitched and came with a scream. you kept going even after he came, you were close just need a bit more….

“aghh…~! so..so d..deep mhhn”he didn’t struggle anymore, no complaints he just took it. you could hear a bit of a smile behind his moans, you looked at him and he was in pure bliss.

this pushed you over the edge and you let out a pathetic whimper into his ear as you filled him up with your hot liquids.

hair stuck to his forehead and he bit his bottom lip moaning girlishly.

He was trembling crazy, he laughed a little before telling you to fuck him deeper in which you sighed tiredly and pulled out of him. He whined a “noooo” in return, the tiredness coming back to him.

you moved him closer to you and ran your fingers thru his hair to put him to sleep faster. he let out a small “hate you” before knocking out for the next couple hours.

next morning he woke up and started a tantrum

“you lost”

“NO FUCKFACE YOURE JUST HARD TO PLEASE”

“you had 3 hours of riding me and you couldn’t get anything out of me….” You argued and he yelled at you for hours

he tired himself out once again and fell back asleep in the comforts of your arms.

a/n; he’s cute yall sthu

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #i lowkey hate dis pls mercy #dom top reader #top male reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x male reader #male reader #dark content #gay #smut #mha x male reader #cowgirl #𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 #aged up characters

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 21 days

Text

Proactive Type of Person - Rafe Cameron One Shot

⭐ Republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

PervFrat!Rafe x CollegeStudent!Reader

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Rafe is your boyfriend… You just don’t know it yet.

🪄 warning (contains spoliers): swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral (if I missed tags I’m sorry)

✨ “Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. ✨

💋 Part 1 will be from Rafe’s POV Part 2 will be from the Female Reader’s 💋

3.8k

Rafe’s POV:

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze.

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck.

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.”

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.”

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own.

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt.

“I agree.”

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She’s not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it?

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets.

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again.

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips.

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that.

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can’t wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I’m gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I’m torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She’s a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she’s mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words.

“All semester, and you haven’t made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done.

“Long game,” he defends himself.

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn’t even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don’t even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I’m gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.”

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less.

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I’m not fuckin’ around. She’s mine.”

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I’m bigger. He can fight, but he’s not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn’t care less. And he knows it.

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch.

“Mine.”

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display.

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock.

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me.

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill.

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that.

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm.

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-”

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor.

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh.

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you’re a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo.

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat’s money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I try… But, if we get busted, I’ll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.”

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook.

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl’s eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts… That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys.

I’ll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself.

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I’ve never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips.

He’s fucking dead.

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her.

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits.

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath.

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state.

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched.

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body.

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy…

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight.

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand.

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum.

I’ll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I’ll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway.

My dirty little whore.

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all.

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?”

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again.

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile.

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks.

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet.

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200.

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again.

“Positive,” I assure.

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I’ll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don’t think I can take this.

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod.

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

A/N: Writing Part 2 after Kinktober 💋

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post

@starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

#rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#rafe cameron #rafe #outer banks #obx #rafe x reader smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x fem!reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #frat rafe #frat!rafe #frat bro rafe #college rafe cameron #rafe cameron one shot #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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hauntedlamb · 2 years

Text

I be like ‘why don’t people like me :^((( why does nobody talk to me :^(( why can’t I make friends’ and then be the nastiest cunt you’ve ever met

#bitch talks #I’m pretty sure??? that it’s a defence mechanism??#which obvi doesn’t make it ok #look I’m doing my best I’m working on it I’m trying to be better #but I feel myself slipping up constantly #and as much as I try to pull myself up again it’s a real struggle #especially cause at the moment I’m feeling pretty numb towards basically everybody #which again. I’m pretty sure is a defence mechanism #I’ve got the level of self awareness to be conscious of it #but not to know what to do about it

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hopelessdelusional · 17 days

Text

i cannot physically stop thinking abt american transfer student! reader x bkg

like i’m american and compared to japanese culture americans are so fucking messy 😭 that being said if you went to public school (and wasn’t apart of the “popular” group) you’ve witnessed crazy shit-ESPECIALLY in the south like these schools are not for the weak

you never back down from his insults or threats, bc you’ve dealt with dickheads like him all the time in america! public school was insane so this doesn’t phase you at all. when he notices that you don’t even flinch at his crazy antics he feels…different. especially when you insult him right back like it’s nothing. you always have a come back for him and you have physically fought him (and won) on multiple occasions. it makes him start to admire and respect you (and obviously fall in loooooove)

he slowly drifts closer to you, mentally and physically. i am a stern believer in physical touch bkg like fucking fight me. he would want to always be near you so that yall will accidentally brush hands or bump shoulders, every touch sending a shock down his spine

tbh i think the only way to be able to date bkg is to also be mean and i just cannot stop thinking about FUNNY their pre!relationship would be

*bkg saying some bullshit*

you, mumbling in english “big back bitch”

bkg: HAH⁉️WHATD YOU SAY⁉️

we know that shoto can speak english (at least like decently) and tbh i head cannon denki speaking english as well bc idk it suits him. with that being said, whenever you say something crazy in english shoto is always like 😮 and denki is HOWLING meanwhile bkg is CRAZY jealous bc he can’t understand english

like u don’t understand bkg is soooo jealous bc u and denki bond over music, tv shows, and movies and he keeps kicking himself on passing up his parents offer to teach him english. not to mention yall whisper shit in english a LOT and you guys are not slick with how much yall be giggling. bkg is always glaring at yall whenever that happens, and there have been a couple of times where you felt bad so u told him what yall were saying and you get so happy when you see his mouth turn up into a smile while he chuckles.

this is so random but it also pisses him off when u have t shirts on with english words. so it’ll be like dinner time and he’s huffing and puffing and ur like “???” and he keeps glaring at ur shirt like “what does he have against the tv show friends like he’s never heard abt it until now???” and it wasn’t until denki was like “yooo you watch friends? that show is so stupid i love it” that he settles down. from there on out you always find a way to translate your shirts for him

AND MUSIC don’t even get me started on music. you’re singing along so passionately and he’s like. “what are they singing abt i HAVE to know” so he’ll try to be sneaky and use his phone to translate stuff. if it’s a song abt a shitty ex he’ll have the most violent urge to fly to your home state and kill the ex who made you feel like this-but if it’s like megan thee stallion? my dude is sweating and blushing but pissed bc he’s sweating and blushing and basically long story short kirishima goes up to talk to him and gets blasted in the face.

he watches all your favorite movies and tv shows (subtitles on) and he will never admit it but he loves when you whisper the translations in his ear.

another thing that peaks his curiosity is you’re friends from home! america is 14 hours behind tokyo…so talking to ur friends from home can cause difficulties. when it’s late at night the class will see you furiously texting your friends bc it’s morning time for them. sometimes on weekends you guys are able to call, so if you’re ever on call walking into the kitchen for a snack bkg is so curious as to what you and your friends would be talking abt. he always sneaks a peek and you best believe he learns all of your friends names and faces.

friend: “who was that hot guy that you were talking to?”

you: “huh? oh that’s katsuki, i told you abt him”

friend: “dude…you were totally giving him fuck me eyes”

you: “AYO DO NOT EVEN START WITH THAT SH-“

(he was looking at you with such passion and love in his eyes but ur just too dumb to see it)

you tend to crave a lot of american snacks and food, and sometimes bkg will go out to a special shop that has american shit and bring it to you.

“you wouldn’t fucking stop saying how much you wanted it so here take it nerd”

*you’re all teary bc like “omg he went out of his away to go across town to get me some stupid snacks omg im falling for him”*

you love cooking american foods/foods you grew up with for the class and you specifically yearn for bkg’s approval. you eventually learn about his love for cooking and he teaches you japanese dishes while you teach him the dishes you know. the two of you bonded so much while cooking together.

(this part is me venting so just bare with me okay) and god forbid you have a toxic ex in america that’s some fucking loser white boy bc bkg will rip that man to SHREADS. he has you cry laughing over all the insults he comes up with when you finally crack and show him a picture.

“he literally looks like a block of feta cheese yn, he looks like the type to trip on his own shoelaces. he definitely doesn’t read any higher than a ten year olds level-“

it actually ends with a sweet moment of him watching you laugh and when you two lock eyes he tells you that you deserve better, that you deserve someone who will actually treat you well. he scurries off after that bc he realizes he was too soft in that moment and you never stop thinking abt that.

eventually you get him to confess and start dating, obviously having to take it slow bc there’s no way bkg dated anyone before you. slowly figuring out everything that works for the both of you, the relationship is very loving and accepting.

bkg slowly learns all of your favorite songs and knows what they translate to. when you sing love songs to him not thinking he knows what they mean, he just smiles and says smth cheesy like “oh you must really like me huh?”

you of course teach him words in english and you try to tutor him in the language but he’s not the easiest person to teach to, especially a whole new language. but the couple of phrases you teach him are just for your sake so you can talk shit and include him in it, and he loves it so much.

(dw bc by the time he’s an adult he can speak english and his accent is SO cute and you love it so much bc everything he does is so amazing)

when the two of you get older you are able to bring him home! he meets all of your friends and family, even tho he’s literally the most nervous you’ve ever seen him. he knows english by this time but he keeps overthinking it so much, and once he’s surrounded by a bunch of people who’s first language is english he messes up a couple of times and sometimes messes up translations. he gets so mad at himself but you are able to talk him down and tell him not to be so hard on himself.

you bring him to all of your favorite restaurants and areas, shopping included. he wants to know everything about where you grew up, hoping it will somehow grow the two of you even closer to each other. once you’re in public and at restaurants you still insist on speaking japanese since that was the language the two of you used when you fell in love, and even tho you guys get weird stares you refuse to switch. bkg also enjoys it bc when it’s the two of you speaking japanese it’s like you two are in your own little world, like you two really do belong together.

but also you guys shit talk in japanese so. much. like it’s not even funny. if you have family members that you dislike, you better believe you’re whispering in his ear all about it catching him up on family lore when he meets all of your family.

that’s all i can think of rn, but god. i’m obsessed.

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lnfours · 5 months

Note

lando is definitely the type to soften his voice around bestfriend!reader that hes totally in love with. and him and reader dont see it at all, but everyone else does. and he basically treats her like theyre dating except without the kisses. and max is fed up with the two bc everytime lando sees her, he texts max "shes so pretty i wanna kiss her all over" - 🍒anon

anon... did you know that friends to lovers is my favorite trope like... ever?? fear not, the friends to lovers connoisseur is back!!! another one where i got carried away 😅

requests are open!

the small get-together at max’s was the highlight of the night, everyone joined together in the living room for drinks, food and games. you had found yourself seated next to lando on the couch, his hip pressed against yours from how close you were. ria on the other side of you, laughing as you watched niran pick up 6 uno cards.

max watched the way you two interacted, the way lando kept one hand draped around the back of the couch near your shoulders and how your body had slotted right into his side. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be close, but as of recently, the distance between the two of you kept getting smaller and smaller. his voice was softer, hugs lasted longer, eye contact ended with soft smiles and glances down at the floor.

he had known his best friend was obsessed with you the moment you met, immediately asking max for your instagram when you had met. the real giveaway was the countless texts about how he ‘wanted to kiss your face all over’ whenever you showed up at races wearing his number or dressed head to toe in papaya. that’s when he knew his best friend was head over heels.

“uno,” you smiled, holding your card close to your chest so others couldn’t see. everyone started cursing themselves, not believing the fact that you were so close to winning the game. lando leaned his head closer or you, trying to catch a peek at your card. he poked at your side, trying to get you to squirm so he could see, but you held it even closer and laughed, pushing him away.

“stop trying to cheat!” you laughed, pulling his hands from your side.

he wore the cutest smirk, “i’m not trying to cheat!”

“liar,” you joked back. max snorted softly, placing the card down in the pile. now it was lando’s turn and he had nothing to give away except a red four, which was going to let you win the game, unbeknownst to him.

you threw your arms up, tossing the card onto the table and happily cheering as everyone groaned softly, “i win, bitches!”

“that’s not even fair! how’d you win after having 25 cards?!”

“i’m just good like that,” you smiled, turning to the boy next to you and motioning to his empty glass, “want another drink?”

he nodded, passing you the glass with a smile, “thank you.”

you hummed, ria popping up from the couch after you, “i need another one too.”

with you gone in the kitchen, now it was time for the interrogating to start. aarav speaking up first, “so mate, when’re you going to tell her you’re head over heels?”

“i don’t think he even has to say it,” ethan joked, “it’s pretty obvious.”

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” the curly haired brit said, helping max gather up the cards. the boys chuckled softly as max shook his head.

“you’re wasting time, mate!” niran said, “everyone knows you’re in love, just get on with it already.”

lando looked at his friend for help, but max shrugged, “they’re right. you have hearts in your eyes whenever she’s around.”

he was about to open his mouth to respond when yours and rias giggles sounded back into the room. you took your spot back next to lando, crossing your legs under you. he smiled at you as everyone got the table cleaned up for the movie that was up next on tonight’s agenda.

you leaned into lando’s shoulder, watching max fail at entering his password on the streaming service and laughing at his frustration. once everything was set up and everyone was comfortable, he reached over and turned the lamp off on the end table. you reached behind you, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over you and lando, scooting closer into his body as he wrapped an arm around you.

about forty minutes into the move, you felt lando’s head lean on yours before his lips came close to your ear, “you comfortable?”

you nodded, turning to meet his eyes in the dim lighting. you smiled, reaching up and brushing the stray curl from his forehead, “yeah, you?”

he nodded, “so comfortable i could sleep.”

you chuckled, “sleep, then. pretty sure almost everyone are already knocked out.”

he glanced down at the floor where his friends sat, their eyes closed. he looked over at max who was on his phone, paying no mind to the movie. your long haired brunette friend next to you had fallen asleep too, her cheek pressed against the arm of the couch.

lando tucked his face into your hair, “wanna go to bed?”

you nodded, “let’s go.”

the two of you stood up, you draping the blanket over ria as lando whispered to his best friend, “we’re going to bed, mate.”

max nodded, “i’ll probably be up in a little while.”

lando nodded back, following you up the stairs. you opened the door to your shared guest room, him closing the door softly. you slipped into the connected bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush from your toiletry bag. you smiled as you met the familiar pair of green eyes in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your middle before he reached for his own toothbrush. you smiled at him in the mirror, the both of you finishing up before you spun around, pressed against the counter as your hands went up to his unruly curls from the blowing wind in london.

“you need a brush.”

“and i need you in bed,” he said, dragging you with him as he turned off the light and climbed into bed. you joined him under the covers, your cheek resting against his chest as he held you close. he played with your hair as you drew circles into the material of his soft cotton shirt. you tilted your head up to look at him, his eyes meeting yours as he looked down at you.

“is it true?” you asked and continued when he pulled his eyebrows together, “what the guys were talking about earlier? about you liking me?”

he swallowed, racking his brain. surely he couldn’t back peddle now, and how could he lie to you? he couldn’t. so he told the truth, “yeah,”

you smiled softly, “knew it.”

“i wasn’t that obvious!” he argued with a laugh, “i like to think i’ve been very subtle!”

“as subtle as they get,” you joked, reaching up and placing your thumb against his bottom lip, “i like you too, lan.”

he smiled, lifting your chin with his index finger and thumb, pulling you up to him before he pressed his lips to yours. you kissed him back, the kiss breaking shortly after from fits of giggles and wide smiles. a new sense of love in the air between you two.

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beyondthesefourwalls · 7 months

Text

A Verbal Agreement

Summary: You hated Jake Seresin. Truly, you did. Or at least you strongly disliked him. But as it was, he did something for you that no other man could, and it kept you coming back for more.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.2K (no one is as shocked as I am that I kept it short)

Warnings: Smut. Dirty talk. Enemies with benefits. Language. The Blonde One™️.

---

You hated him.

Truly, you did.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe strong dislike would be a better way to describe it.

Jake Seresin was a smug son of a bitch. He was the bane of your existence in so many ways, and got under your skin like he was trying to burrow there and make it his home. His arrogance annoyed you, constantly walking around with a holier-than-thou attitude, like he was God’s gift to women, the Navy, and society in general. His smirk made his face punchable in a way that you were barely able to resist smacking him when he shot it in your direction.

But damn, if his ability to string together filth didn’t drive you fucking crazy.

“That’s it. Fuck. That’s my good girl.”

You clenched around him at his words, a moan leaving you because of the praise.

Dirty talk was something you considered to be an artform. It was one of your biggest turn ons, and so little men knew how to actually execute it. So often when you’d ask for it, it came out awkward, cringy or obnoxious. They fumbled over words and made everything sound so unappealing, unable to find that perfect balance of praise and degradation that you longed for, that you would barely be in the mood to finish after they spouted off what they thought was sexy.

So it would figure, of course, that you discovered Jake was the best dirty talker you had ever been with after what was supposed to be a one time mistake after a few too many drinks at the Hard Deck. He made everything sound so flawlessly erotic and natural, you were basically a puddle for it every single time.

It was no secret that Jake loved to hear himself talk, and this was the one situation where you not only didn’t mind, you wanted it.

“Taking me so fucking well. You were made to take it, weren’t you baby?”

“Yes,” you gasped, nodding rapidly, your nails dragging down his back. “Made to.”

“Yeah you were. I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?”

Your moan turned into a scream of his name as a sharp smack came down on your ass, Jake nearly bending you in half as he fucked you. “Answer me.”

You knew from knowing him for so long that he hated being ignored, especially in bed, and especially when it was about how good he was making you feel.

“Yes! Fuck!” you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls. “So good!”

His chuckle and his smirk were both so smug, in any other situation, you would have rolled your eyes. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, it sent another wave of arousal through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into him.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve got that straight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and as smooth as velvet. “Not like you would have been able to deny it, anyway. You’re so fucking soaked, you’re making a mess of the sheets and those pretty thighs of yours. I can only imagine how good it's going to feel when I come inside of you. Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathed.

"You’re so fucking tight, baby. Sucking me in like a damn vice.”

"Please," you whimpered. You were close; so close. But you needed more. “Please, please, please.”

“God I love it when you beg for me.”

He said the words almost to himself, so you didn't answer, caught in a whirlwind of lust and frustration. Jake’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, tight circles against it. Your vision blurred at the stimulation.

“You want my cock so bad, don’t you?”

“Jake.”

You felt the edges of your control fraying, the pleasure building to a breaking point. Your whole body shook - sweet release so near that you could almost taste it.

"Yeah, baby," he growled, his hips pounding into you even harder. His thrusts became more urgent as he neared his end, too, demanding and pointed."You want to come for me?”

You couldn’t answer, falling into the haze of what he was making you feel. Your mind was a blank canvas, lost to the sensation of his cock filling you, all that existed was the intense sensation of him thrusting against your nerve-endings, the friction between your clit and his fingers, and the rhythm of his voice, husky and perfect, pulsing through you.

Another smack to your ass, and then his hand found your chin, squeezing just tight enough where it drew you out of your head. He guided your gaze toward him. His eyes, always so mischievous, were dark and calculating. “Do you want to come for me?” he repeated, and you moaned at the authority ringing in your ears.

Your voice was barely a whisper as the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Yes. Please, Jake. Make me come.”

“Then do it. Be a good girl, and come for me. Now.”

Your body responded to his command instantly. You arched into him, your screams echoing in the room as you shattered, your nails digging into his back. He never stopped talking, his voice coaxing as much from you as he could.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. Come inside this sweet little pussy. And you’re going to take all of it, baby.”

Your body felt like it was on fire. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you and he kept up his relentless rhythm, chasing his own release. You felt him go rigid inside you, and then his hips jerked forward once, twice, and then a third time as he joined you over the edge. He grunted out your name as you clung to him, your arms around his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him pulse inside you.

For a few moments, you both laid there, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Jake settled more of his weight on top of you in a way that always made you feel more secure as you came down from the high, and you placed a soft kiss against his neck in appreciation.

“I still hate you,” you mumbled into his skin.

Jake chuckled low in his throat, and then laughed even harder when the sound caused you to clench around his softening cock. He pulled out of you slowly, sliding over your sensitive flesh. You could feel his cum slipping out of you, furthering the mess between your legs. You couldn’t help but shiver as he settled on the mattress beside you, pulling you into his sweaty chest.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darlin’.”

“No, I mean it.”

But even as you said it, you were cuddling closer to him, draping your leg over his as got comfortable. Post-orgasm was one of the only times he was quiet, or at least not as chatty, and you enjoyed basking in the afterglow that always followed these trysts.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you could feel the smirk that was no doubt a mix of smug and indulgent as he did. “Sure.”

“Shhhh,” you murmured, “don’t ruin it.”

He laughed lightly, but settled down, not saying anything else.

-----------

Notes: I really have no idea what this is or where it came from, but here we are.

Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 and @sylviebell for reading it over and all your help! And to Mak for a stunning banner, as per ushe.

Main Masterlist

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macfrog · 1 year

Text

rack 'em

the girlies watched triple frontier last week and it was the single most inspiring thing i have ever seen so here’s a lil frankie fic to cleanse my mind. dedicated to my babies @gracieispunk (who put this concept in my head for the wee laddies), @hellishjoel & @strang3lov3 🤍

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x f!reader

summary: when your parents ask you to housesit for them, you take the opportunity to spend some quality time back in your hometown, hanging with your older brother and...getting reacquainted with his best friend

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, teasing & touching, dubcon (reader is a little drunk, frankie is not), oral sex (f receiving), alcohol consumption, quick mention of dr*gs, cursing, frankie's a bit of a dick but reader gives as good as she gets

word count: 6.1k (cause apparently i don’t know how to write short fics 🤪)

main masterlist

When you were four, a new family moved in across the street. Nobody knew them – your mom spent two straight days trying to scoop for information. Who they were, where they’d moved from, what was with the banged-up Ford pickup they drove. Nobody knew a thing.

You didn’t take much interest, being four years old – two months shy of your fifth birthday, by the way – and too invested in whatever politics a woman of your age finds herself wrapped up in, but you noticed one key thing about them.

The mom had tattoos.

Two full sleeves. Colorful ones, too. A bright red heart on her shoulder, a green snake wrapped around her forearm – among others. It was fucking cool, alright? No matter how much your mom whispered to Ms. Teller over the fence about them.

One night, when you were supposed to be in bed, you snuck out of your room and crossed the landing to your brother’s. Santiago and his friends were all staying at Tom’s, and you knew that in his desk he had permanent markers. You clicked the door open, as quiet as you could, and crept over his matted carpet to the drawer. You took one Sharpie, and spent the night adding snakes and hearts and whatever else came to mind to your Barbies’ arms, legs, faces, necks.

They looked fucking awesome. Just like that mom across the street.

But somehow or other – and I’m not blaming anyone – the next morning, a drawing appeared on the bathroom wall. In Sharpie. Your mom hit the roof.

As soon as Santi got home, she dragged him by the ear into the bathroom and pointed a trembling finger at the drawing. You forget what it was – it’s been years, and you were never much of an artist.

His plea of innocence helped him none; she knew he owned Sharpies, knew he sucked just as bad as you did at drawing, and he was grounded for three whole weeks. No soccer practice, no TV, no PlayStation. Which, at thirteen, is basically a stint in Rikers.

Your brother, though…he was always better than your mom at reading your mind. He saw the guilt on your face plain as the black marker behind the toilet tank. He cornered you in your bedroom as soon as she went back downstairs, and established three key rules going forward.

One: do not enter his room ever again.

Two: no touching his stuff.

And three: anytime he took the fall for you, you owed him. Big time.

You’ve followed the rules ever since. You barely knew what the inside of his room looked like, growing up. But it worked, ‘cause ever since the Sharpie incident of ’99, you two remained closer than most siblings with an eight-year age gap.

So, now, two days into a two-week stay back in your hometown to housesit while your parents head off on a cruise to celebrate their anniversary, you’re in the car with him. Listening to music, bitching about your mom, arguing over the best Cola flavor.

It’s like old times.

“She said, How’s my baby girl?” you yell over Stevie Nicks’s voice, reading from your phone.“And when I said I’m fine, she said, No, I meant the dog. Is she fucking serious?”

Santiago’s head tilts back with laughter, dark curls nudging against the headrest. He’s driving you to Lucky’s, a local sports bar he and his buddies frequent. He promised when he picked you up at the airport he’d take you out, get you drunk, and he was holding to it.

You pull your legs down off the dash as he turns into the parking lot, pulling in right under the white fluorescent sign, four-leaf clover flashing under it.

“She’s looking forward to seeing you when they get back,” he tells you, switching the engine off.

“Oh, yeah? That why she didn’t even hang around to see me before they left?”

He hands you a smug grin, shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t have it all, big shot. You move a thousand miles away, you forfeit your chance of being the favorite.”

You swing your door open and hop out, chasing him around the car to follow him inside. “You say that like I was ever in the fucking running.”

He snorts, pushing the door open, and a loud cheer roars through the bar. You blush as you follow your brother across the room to two tables full of familiar faces.

“Hey, baby.” Your best friend’s arms pull you in, her gold hoop earrings cold against your cheek. She smells like rose and cedarwood.

“Mal,” you hum, smiling as she pulls away.

“My mom said your parents only just made it on board,” she says, detaching strands of her long, black hair from the cuff of your jacket. “Said they had a flat tire and had to race to get to the boat.”

Your head jerks back. “She never told me any of that. Just asked how Ange was.”

Mal snorts.

“Hey, lil Santi!”

You glance over your shoulder to watch as Benny Miller stalks over, almost shoving some old guy off his feet, arms wide open, wide grin spread across his lips. His brother, Will, follows behind, and gives your shoulder a loving slap when Benny pulls you in for a hug.

“How’s Boston treatin’ ya?”

“Good,” you reply. “How’s…MMA treating you?”

“Good!” he echoes, eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

It’s kinda part of the deal that your older brother’s friends become brothers in their own right to you, especially when you’re as young and easily-influenced as you were. They used to use you in their elaborate plans – send you in as a distraction while they filled their pockets with food at parties, or use your smaller stature to their advantage when attempting to break into places they shouldn’t.

By the time you were old enough to follow their orders, they were well into their teens. Which is basically grown-up, as far as six-year-old you was concerned. They were always allowed to do things you’re still not sure your mom would permit you to do at twenty-eight, like disappear all day without checking in, or come home black and blue after an organized street brawl with the boys from the other side of the neighborhood.

But there was no denying they cared about you. Will, Benny, and Tom, at least. They showed their affection by ruffling your hair as they passed, or sneaking you candy under the table even after your mom had told you you’d had enough. They’d christened you ‘lil Santi’, a name that – despite the embarrassment it always casts over you anytime you hear it – still sticks to this day.

Your brother’s friends were family to him, and, by extension, family to you.

Well. All but one.

Frankie Morales – nickname Catfish: long-time best buddy of your big brother, and long-time fucking asshole. There isn’t one thing on Earth that you two see eye to eye on, except for that very fact: he hates you almost as much as you hate him.

Always have, always will.

He’s in trouble almost regularly for drug-related stuff you don’t bother asking Santiago about. You don’t need to hear details to know he’s a pain in the ass. He’s been antagonizing you for as long as you’ve known him – where the others ruffled your hair, he’d shove into your shoulder as he passed, sending you – and whatever you were holding – flying. Any attempt you made at conversation with any one of them resulted in an argument between you and Frankie.

You hated him. Fucking hated him.

And tonight, you almost think yourself lucky. Almost go over to thank Santi for not inviting him, when you notice the silhouette of his baseball cap and that denim button up hunched over in a bar stool, and your eyes narrow.

You can’t help yourself. It’s been a years-long feud. And you’re old enough to take him on now. So, you stride over.

“You here to poison my drink?”

“What?” he asks, shaking his head. Already exasperated just by the sight of you.

“I bet you cheered the loudest when I walked in.”

He shrugs. “Cheered when your brother gave me fifty bucks to show face.”

Your upper lip curls. When the bartender notices you standing, elbows propped on the bar, he leans over.

“Beer, please.” Your smile twists into a grimace when you catch Frankie watching you. “What are you doing here? You have to be the person least excited to see me home.”

“I told you,” he says, lifting the bottle to his lips, “I’m bein’ paid.”

“Alright, so what do I gotta pay you to make you leave?”

Frankie scoffs, opens his mouth to answer what you’re sure is a comment laced with just as much venom, when Will’s strong arms slap down on each of your shoulders.

“We buyin’ our favorite veterinary nurse a drink, Francisco?”

You take your beer from Nick’s outstretched hand, sliding him the cash in return, and hold it up to Will in reply. “I’m good, thanks. Wouldn’t wanna eat into that fifty bucks, Catfish,” you mutter, turning to wander off.

You weave in and out of bodies, making your way to the opposite side of the bar where the pool tables sit. Doused in the warm strip light over the green felt, Santi chalks his cue ready to play against Mal, who’s already lining up her shot.

You hop up on a stool right next to the table, glancing back over to the bar where Frankie sits, now turned to face your direction. His elbow sits on the wooden surface, head turns from the football game showing behind the bar, over to you. And when he sees you looking, turns back to the TV screen, cool expression never changing.

“You done?” Mal asks Santiago, feeding the cue through her ring-decorated fingers.

He nods, tossing the chalk back over to you. “Better get your purse out, Bennett. Lotta sober people in here, all gonna want a free drink once you lose.”

“As if,” she breathes, and breaks the rack.

Somewhere throughout the game – a grueling and controversial one, by all accounts – Frankie makes his way over, following Will. You’re thankful when he plants himself on the other side of the table, one hand in his jeans pocket, the other around a bottle of beer. Though the light only comes up to his chest, right where the last button is done up, you notice him looking. Every fucking glance.

It pisses you off. Not the glancing. The way it makes you feel having him watch you. Wherever it comes from, you swallow it down with one big gulp of alcohol.

The game ends in a questionable loss. This side of the table swears the white skimmed off of Mal’s final solid when Santi hit it, right before it potted the black. The other side objected, claimed it was a clean shot ‘n you all know it. A winner wasn’t officially announced, but, being that Mallory Bennett is a force of nature where her competitive nature is concerned, Santiago was forced to buy the loser’s round.

She saunters up to you with her free whiskey in her hand, silver jewelry clinking off of the cold glass.

“Proud of yourself?” you ask, smirking.

She hands you your third beer of the night, sweeping her silky hair out of her face. “It hit it, alright? I saw it move.”

“Was that before or after you nudged the table?”

Mal holds a finger to her lips. You swat her hand away and the pair of you giggle, leaning into each other like schoolgirls whispering secrets in the playground.

“You know something,” Santiago materializes over Mal’s shoulder, shaking his head, “if you gotta cheat to beat me, I’ll give you the win.”

“Oh, get out,” you throw back. “Don’t blame her for your bad aim. Ms. Teller could’ve hit that shot and she’s got cataracts in both eyes.”

Your brother nods at you, tongue in his cheek. “Alright, smartass. Grab a cue.”

You scoff. Look around the room, shaking your head. The crowd has dispersed a little, folks have turned back to the TV screens, shifted focus back to the alcohol in their glasses. And then you look back to Santiago, holding his arms out.

“Alright. Fuck it.”

You hop down and snatch the second cue, wandering around the table while he racks the balls. He lifts the triangle, rolls the white over to you, and tells you to break.

The multicolored balls scatter in a fleet, two stripes tumble into pockets, and you stand back to survey your options. There’s a third stripe close to a pocket on the right, so you wander around to your left and turn.

“’scuse me,” you mutter, nudging Frankie’s stomach with the bottom of your cue.

He shoots you a dead-eyed stare, and takes one step back. And then his eyes drop, and you feel like you could slap him.

But you’re three – almost four – beers deep, and there are heads turning to watch how this plays out, and you can feel the bassline of the music rippling up from the soles of your feet all through your body, and you can feel the heat of his stare on the backs of your thighs, right where the hem of your dress sits.

Suddenly, slapping isn’t what you want to do to him.

Your head turns back to the pool table and you bend over, drawing the cue back between almost shaking fingers, and slam it into the white. It fires into the red striped ball, which hits the corner of the cushion, millimeters away from falling into the pocket.

You sigh, straightening up and waiting for your brother to begin his taunting, but it never comes. Instead, he fishes into his pocket for his phone, tapping the screen and holding it to his ear.

“Yep?” There’s a pause, Santiago’s face sours, and then he glances around the bar. “Right now? Really? No, it’s just…” He sighs. “Alright. I’ll be there. Just…I’m coming. I’m coming.”

He hangs up the phone and curses under his breath, then turns back to you, answering the question on your expression with: “One of our informants just got himself killed. I gotta go.”

“You haven’t even taken a shot yet,” you huff, taking his cue when he holds it out.

“I’ll make it up to you, hermana, promise. How are you gonna get home?”

You shrug. Mumble an, “I dunno.”

His eyes scan the room, passing over Will – already worse for wear, leaning shakily against a nearby table slurring to a group of strangers, then to Benny – stumbling out of the bar door with some girl on his arm, and finally land on the figure behind you, sliding a bowl of peanuts across the table to himself.

“Morales,” Santiago calls, and you throw the cues down on the felt.

“No, no way,” but your brother is already pushing past you to get to his friend. “Pope, no fucking w–”

Frankie turns, handful of nuts, cheek full and chewing.

“I gotta go, trouble at work. Can you do me a favor, man, ‘n make sure she gets home alright?”

“No,” you repeat. “He is not taking me home.”

“Baby,” Santi pleads, “just go with him, please?”

“I’ll walk. It’s, like, a twenty-minute walk.”

“No way. Mom would kill me.”

“Well, then, we just don’t tell her. Pope, please.”

He ignores you. “You are not walking home after dark. No.”

“Probably be safer than in the truck with him.”

Frankie’s head stops flitting between the two of you and his glare settles on yours. “Fuck you,” he spits, shaking his head.

“Right back at you,” you reply, insincere smile on your lips.

Santiago puts his palms together and holds them out to you. “Look, just – please. Just this once. I’ll owe you one.”

He doesn’t owe you one often. Makes a point of deliberately trying not to owe you one. This is an interesting offer. You sigh, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. You better fucking pay me back, though!”

“You got it,” he says, patting your shoulder. “Thanks, man,” he whispers to Frankie as he passes, slipping through the crowd toward the exit.

You and Frankie are left, two feet apart, filled with silence and resentment.

“You looking for someone else to hand your ass to you, lil Santi?” he asks, tossing another handful of peanuts into his mouth.

“You’re funny.” You hand him a smile, which drops the second he looks at it.

But when you turn back to the table and lift the cues, you hand one to him. Push it into his chest, shoot him a narrow-eyed glance.

“One game. And only ‘cause I need a sub.”

He dusts his hands together, shrugs. “Shouldn’t take me too long.”

You stalk back over to Mal, who’s giggling into her glass. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Don’t.” You hold your hand up, taking another swig of beer as Frankie lines up.

On his first shot, he pots that same red you were trying to hit before. His eyes lift only for a second, but you catch the cocky look he throws you and screw your face up.

“Fucking…ass,” you whisper.

Frankie’s shoulders jump, his teeth take his bottom lip. He’s laughing to himself when he takes his next shot, and pots another stripe. And then he stands up straight, holds his hands out.

“Just tell me when.”

“When what?”

“To start going easy on you.”

Fuck off. Fuck off, fuck you, fuck this. Fuck!

One more ball potted and finally, fucking finally, he misses a shot. It’s an impossible shot, anyway, there’s no way in hell he was gonna make it, but that’s not what matters. What matters is the way you twirl your cue in your fingers, then lift it and wander around the table, squeezing between Frankie and the wooden edge to get to your shot.

Your ass brushes past his jeans, and when you turn your head to whisper a sarcastic Sorry, he fucking growls. Low, almost inaudible. But just enough for you to notice, and enough for you to keep pissing him off.

The buzz you’re getting from antagonizing him this much must awaken some sort of billiards skillset you never knew you fucking had, because you pocket four balls in quick succession. Red, then green, then blue, and purple. There’s one ball between you when Frankie rounds the table, eyes scanning the felt for the next best shot he can take.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you mutter as he passes by you, on his third lap of the table.

He tsks. “Impatient,” he replies, shoulder brushing yours heavily. You feel the rough denim of his jeans graze your thighs, the weight of him against your backside for the second time. You push back, leaning into him as he moves past, then leans over, slinks his cue between his fingers, and takes his shot.

The yellow sails into the nearest pocket like there’s a magnet pulling it. The purple does the exact same – he barely has to tap it with the tip of the cue and it’s dropping in atop its predecessor.

Frankie turns, shimmying a little up the table, hip nudging yours out of the way. “Move,” he mumbles, shutting one eye to aim for the black. “Come on…” he breathes, and then shoots.

It bounces off of the opposite side of the table, thudding off of the cushion before it’s rolling toward the pocket and dropping in with a plunk.

He stands, fixing his baseball cap, and leans the cue against the table. “Good game, loser,” he says, ruffling your hair as he passes you.

“What age are you?” you sneer as he wanders back off to his beer, waiting for him on the table next to his bowl of peanuts.

Will wraps an unsteady arm around your shoulder as Frankie tips his bottle against his lips. He’s swaying, dragging you left and right with him as if you’re on a boat.

“He’s…he’s always been the best outta us all,” Will slurs, using his bottle to point at Frankie. “’s why he’s such a good pilot. Good aim.”

You sigh, pushing his heavy arm off yourself and slip back over to Mal, who hands you a sad smile and fixes your hair.

“It was a good attempt,” she says.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, tossing your bottle up and draining the last of it onto your tongue. “I need another drink.”

You cross the room, suddenly less blurry and tilted, more boring and flat, and lean over the bar. “Nick,” you call, and he twists around, “grab me another–”

“It’s alright, Nick,” a voice yells over your shoulder, “I think she’s good.”

You spin around and it’s that stupid fucking baseball cap and the stupid denim button up again.

“What, I’m not allowed to drink now?”

Frankie’s head cocks. “You don’t think you’ve had enough?”

“I’ve had three. Three beers. The fuck is your problem?”

He tuts, glances left and right, and then back to you. “I think I should get you home.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

“Are you this fucking difficult with everyone when you’re drunk?”

“Nope,” you beam at him, “just you.”

He lets go of the grip he has on your arm and starts backing away. “I’m leaving, baby,” he tells you, nodding goodbye to Nick. “You’re either coming, or Pope’s gonna hear all about it.”

You ball your fists, watching the door swing closed behind him. Your feet stay rooted to the ground, eyes flitting from the parking lot over to Mal, who lifts her arms in a question. You shake your head in response, and her shoulders drop.

Sorry, you mouth, beginning to walk off in Frankie’s footsteps.

Mal blows you a kiss, winks once, and then salutes you goodbye. You shoulder out of the bar.

The ride back to your parents’ place is silent, except for the dull drone of whatever fucking music Frankie has choking out of his radio. You watch your hometown pass by, never taking your eyes off of the blurry streetlights or passing mailboxes, refusing to turn your head further than the middle of the windscreen at him.

He’s humming along to the song, jaw swinging as he chews on gum, arm hanging out of his open window. Everything he does is so fucking irritating, like a constant buzzing in your ear, an eyelash stuck in your eye, the feeling of stepping on a wet floor in socks.

So why, every time you do sneak a glance of him out of your peripheral, does the sight of those focused brown eyes, the strands of gray in his beard, the way his curls flick under the brim of his cap – why does it all stir something inside of you?

Frankie pulls up across the street from your house, white wood a milky blue in the moonlight. You unbuckle your seatbelt and let the strap whip off of your body, rattling against the interior of the truck. The most you’re willing to offer him is a nod of the head in thanks, which he returns, and your fingers hook around the door latch.

“Hey, mind if I come in ‘n use your bathroom?” he asks.

You pause. “Uh, yeah. I mind. No.”

“Come on, baby, I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

You scoff, ignoring him and slip down out of the truck. The door slams closed and you wander over to your parents’ drive, hearing a second slam as you cross the street.

“Uh, where do you think you’re going?”

“If your mom knew you weren’t letting me use her bathroom, she’d kill you, ‘n you know it.”

“My mom doesn’t know you like I know you, asshole,” you retort, but he’s still following you to the front door. “Just – alright. Do me a favor and disinfect it once you’re done. I don’t need them coming home to piss all over the floor.”

“You think my aim’s that bad? Just schooled you in a game of pool.”

You sigh, refusing to rise, and open the door. There’s the gentle scuffing of claws on the wooden flooring, trotting nearer and nearer in the dark hallway, and then the weight of your childhood dog shoves into your body.

“Hi, Angie. Hi, girl,” you whisper, scratching the dog’s white fur, her front paws against your tummy.

She jumps down when Frankie slips in behind you, wandering over with her tail swinging back and forth. He crouches down and holds his hand out, cooing, “Hi, baby,” as she nuzzles against his palm.

“She likes most folks who come by,” you utter, hanging your coat over the banister. “Don’t think you’re special.”

“She always loved me most,” he says, still fussing over the pup, “didn’t you, girl? Yeah, yeah you did.”

You roll your eyes and wander upstairs, leaving Frankie to find the bathroom, use it, and fuck off on his own.

It’s been almost eight years since you last lived here, but your room still looks oddly similar. Same bedframe, different sheets. Same wallpaper, only not covered in posters of your favorite bands. Same shelves, too, just that they hold stuff like vases and seashells and other random ornaments your mom’s picked up, rather than a collection of your favorite movies or framed photos of you and your friends.

You pull your dress over your shoulders and kick your boots off, grabbing a tee from your bag to sleep in. The Nirvana logo lies loose across your chest, the hem dancing along the line of your panties.

As you kneel on the mattress, tossing the million and one fucking pillows your mom has stacked down to the foot of the bed, you hear the door creak open.

“Damn,” Frankie mutters, glancing around the room, “haven’t been in here since I was, what, seventeen?”

“Weren’t welcome then, still not welcome now.”

“You still got that Black Eyed Peas poster rolled up somewhere?” He’s walking in, boots scuffing along the wooden floor.

“Are you lost?”

He looks over to you, stood by the bed, t-shirt barely reaching your thighs. “You know something, you ‘n your brother are so fucking different, it amazes me you’re related.”

“I imagine there’s a lot that amazes you, dumbass.”

He scoffs. There’s a hint of genuine humor in it. Like he’s impressed. And then his eyes scan down your body, lingering on the bare skin of your legs, shifting up to the pink cotton of your panties. They shoot back up when you speak again.

“Seriously, dude. What are you still doing here?”

Frankie turns to the dresser by the window, adorned with framed pictures of you and Santi as kids. “Making sure you get home alright, like Pope told me to.”

“Well,” you shrug, “I’m home, ‘n I’m alright. So…”

He picks up a silver frame; inside, faded by the sun and years that have passed, lives a photograph of you and your brother. He’s on his BMX bike, wide, toothless grin, and you’re behind him, standing on the pegs and gripping onto his t-shirt sleeves as you battle not to fall off.

Frankie laughs a little, turning the frame to show you. “You were always so fuckin’ annoying, you know that?” And then, with a shake of his head as he sets the frame back down, “Still are.”

You cock your head, throwing your hands up with an infuriated sigh. “If I’m so annoying, then why are you still here?”

The look he gives when he turns back around answers that question for you, in a way that his words never could. Never would, to be honest. He’d never admit the thoughts running through his head right now, same as you won’t admit that, likewise, they’re running through yours.

It’d be fucking weird. It’d be wrong, hooking up with his best friend’s little sister. Santi only asked him to get you home safe, not follow you inside, walk straight into your bedroom, look at you the way he’s looking at you right now, silhouetted by the streetlight shining through your still-open shades.

So then, why can’t he walk away?

You make to step forward, and Frankie’s already moving. He meets you halfway, stood on some fancy-looking rug your mom probably spent too much money on, his arms instantly finding your waist underneath your short tee.

“You fuckin’ piss me off, you know that?”

“I know,” you breathe, bottom lip brushing against his, “I know.”

He pushes you backward, sends you stumbling across the floor on your toes until the back of your calves hit the mattress and you fall, dragging him down on top of you. You knock the baseball cap from his head and run your hands through his brown curls, pulling him nearer as his hands begin to move north under the worn cotton of your shirt.

His rough hands cup your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples as his lips fall to your neck, sucking a bruise into your soft skin.

“Frankie,” you breathe, “what the fuck are we–?”

“Shut up,” he whispers back, teeth grazing over your collarbone. He’s moving down, kissing over your tee as he goes, until he’s kneeling on the floor, your legs dangling off the bed either side of his body.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching him as he presses fleeting kisses to the insides of your thighs, making his way closer and closer to your center, covering ground painfully slow.

“Would you – just – fucking – get there?” you ask, head tilting back with a groan.

“Always so fucking impatient,” he mutters, pulling your legs further apart. “Makes sense, though,” he whispers, finger hooking around your underwear, “already so wet.”

“Dick,” you hiss, laying back flat on the bed.

Frankie holds the lace off of your core and then dips his jaw, lips lightly ghosting across your folds. You hum with a mixture of pleasure and annoyance, ready to buck your hips up to him if it’ll just make him move faster.

But you don’t have to wait a second longer. He licks one broad stripe up your center, pressing one chaste kiss to your clit before his tongue dips where you need him most. Your legs go to clamp shut, stopped by his shoulders.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you moan, hand coming down to knot your fingers in his hair.

He hums against your pussy, tongue lapping inside you, nose at the perfect angle for you to rut your clit against.

“Fuck…” you repeat, and he fucking laughs against you. “Quit it,” you hiss, and he lifts his head.

Your eyes shoot open, finding his. Alarmed meeting cool.

“Fine,” he says, smirking. “I’ll quit it.”

“Don’t you fucking– Frankie.”

“Your words, baby.” He shrugs, eyes flitting down to your cunt, soaked under his touch.

“I didn’t mean it,” you moan. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?”

He looks back up. The corners of his mouth pull his smirk into a grin. Some devilish grin, thick with arrogance.

“I’m an asshole,” he echoes, elastic of your panties shifting up to his knuckles.

He watches your cunt as he does it. Runs two fingers between your folds, coating them in your arousal, dipping them deeper until they’re at your entrance.

Your head hits the bed heavily, your body writhing over the white sheets as he pushes closer and closer. His free hand comes up and pushes down on your tummy, holding you steady to the mattress, then –

“I’m the asshole.”

He inserts his fingers, curled, thick, stretching you out over his hand as he pushes in deep. A gasp passes through your lips, exchanging itself for a throaty moan when Frankie begins fucking you on his hand, lowering his lips to your clit again.

His wrist pumps in and out, tongue swirling over the swollen bud, palm pushing harder into your stomach to keep you from upsetting his rhythm with how badly you want to move around.

Your fingers lock a vice grip around his hair, your hips the only part of your body he’ll let you move. You establish a pace of your own, fucking up to meet his fingers, grinding yourself on his wet tongue.

“I’m close,” you pant, Nirvana logo distorted in ruffles at the base of your neck. “So fucking close, Frankie.”

And he can feel it. Feel you tightening around his hand, feel the rhythm of your hips start to miss beats, move clockwise instead of up and down. He can hear as your mouth stops rounding the words, fading into slurs and breaths and moans instead of coherent language.

“F-Frankie,” you cry out, and it’s like music to his ears. “’m there, I’m–”

“On my mouth, baby,” he mutters, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his lips again, tongue pushing inside you as you fall apart all over him.

Your back lifts from the bed, fists ball around his hair, pushing his face even harder against your cunt as you ride out your high. You’re moaning his name over and over, echoing off the walls of your little room, escaping out the door and swirling around the hallway.

If you could hear yourself, or cared enough to try, you’d feel fucking embarrassed at what you’re doing – coming apart under Frankie’s touch. It’s Frankie.

The same Frankie you started an argument with one Fourth of July over which was better: ketchup or mustard; the two of you spitting insults over the striped tablecloth, obscene hand gestures being thrown up over plates of burgers.

The same Frankie who’d found out it was you who drew on the wall, and from that day on used it as leverage anytime you set a foot out of line. Used it to shut you up, anytime you so much as thought about talking back, or ratting on the boys.

You’re supposed to hate him. Ask anyone – Santi, Mal, your parents. They’ll all say the same. Like cat and dog.

And yet, here you are. Begging him not to stop, keep his hands and his mouth on you; gasping for breath when he eventually lifts away from you and you collapse back into the bed.

You glance down from under heavy lids, watching as he kisses your thighs again, slowly bringing you back to the room. His chin’s glistening, covered in your cum, beard soaked in you.

You slowly sit up, holding yourself steady with two palms pushed into the mattress. Frankie readjusts your underwear and sits back on his heels, running a hand down his chin and wiping himself clean.

“That was…” you pant, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

He just nods, breathing heavy himself. “Yeah.”

“I gotta…I gotta let…Ange out,” you say, words swaddled by your breath.

Frankie nods again. “I should go.”

You stand at the same time, straightening up face to face. His right side is lit warmly by your bedside lamp, the brown of his eye reflecting a tiny yellow orb back at you; the left side is darker, flecks of hair lit in the pale light from the street, face dark and unreadable. Like he’s two different people, split down the middle now, a before and after.

You’re staring at one another, mapping every inch of the other’s face. Learning it, like it’s new. Like you’ve never really seen each other until right now.

And then he’s turning, picking his hat up from the floor in one swooping motion, and walking out of your bedroom. A deep sigh passes your lips as he goes, relief mixed with satisfaction. And then you follow.

Angie circles him when his boots thud down from the bottom step. He bends to give her more attention, waiting for you to softly pad down alongside him. The dog trots off toward the kitchen, and he turns to you.

He’s back to his unphased self, jaw circling around the gum that he’s still fucking chewing. “Two drinks you owe me, now, lil Santi.”

You cock your head. “Hm?”

“One for showing your ass at pool, ‘n another for that.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Morales.”

He snorts, wandering off down the hall. You spin on your heel and follow the sound of Ange scraping the back door, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

Frankie meets your eye, and like a reflex, the pair of you toss the finger to one another. He laughs, stepping out onto the porch.

“Anytime you feel like losing again, you know where I am, baby.”

----------

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#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #bbf!frankie #bbf!frankie morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #enemies to lovers #frankie morales enemies to lovers

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star-girl69 · 8 months

Text

Let The Light In

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: sick clarisse is a heartless monster

this ask

a/n: i do like fluff too! i promise!

Let The Light In - Lana Del Rey

side note: i liked this song before you tik tok bitches liked this song. first day the album came out i said “oh so let the light in is literally my song” y’all can back off mkay…..

warnings: MOTHER Y/N FR!!!!!!!!, ares kids are big babies, don’t tell anyone they’ll kill you, no plot, clarisse is sick and needy and cuddly and basically a baby, bitch gets austin mcbroom post-catherine sick it’s embarrassing, i still love her, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

As soon as you walk into the Ares cabin, you can smell it. It’s not like anyone’s thrown up- you hope, at least- but the entire Ares cabin reeks of snot and wet coughs. You didn’t even know that had a distinct smell. The entire cabin just reeks of a bad, bad, summer cold.

It started off slow. And to their credit, the Ares kids did stay strong for a while. While the rest of the camp was falling into a apocalyptic-esque nightmare, no one in the cabin got sick. Until someone must have.

You remember snorting when Clarisse announced to all of her siblings that whoever got sick would be sleeping outside.

Obviously, that person tried to hide it, and the entire Ares cabin woke up sniffling yesterday. Clarisse vowed to find the rat, but her and the rest of the cabin ended up going to bed early after being asleep on their feet all day.

As the head counselor’s girlfriend, you felt a motherly responsibility to take care of the dying soldiers.

Which is what they were acting like.

“Good morning,” you say softly, quickly shutting the door. The cabin is a mess, even after one night. There’s tissues on the floor, blankets strewn about, everyone’s moaning and groaning. The curtains are all drawn firmly shut, so it’s seems more like 10pm when it’s actually only 10am.

All of the siblings have gathered on the first floor, sometimes two to a bed, couches filled up with sleeping kids.

Everyone mumbles back very pointed “mornings” while you sigh and open up your bag filled with wash cloths.

“Okay,” you say. You already got the sickness a few days ago, and while you’re still sniffling, you’re much better. “I’m here to help!” you announce. Then, you frown. “Where’s Clarisse?”

Matty, on the floor, leaning against the couch, points to a blanketed figure in the corner.

“Asleep,” he yawns. “Which I’m about to be.”

You smile but ultimately walk past her, letting her have a few more moments of what seems to be a fitful sleep- she’s frowning in her sleep, which is absolutely adorable.

You head towards the bathroom, cringing at the overfilling basket of tissues, before you set out your bag on the closed toilet and take out a few wash cloths. You wet them with cold water and hang them over your arms, walking around and putting one on each person’s warm head.

A few actually compare you to a goddess in that moment, and you just hide your giggles and say you’re welcome.

When you finally reach Danny, curled up in a ball on the end of the couch, he looks up at you with big puppy dog eyes.

You’ve quickly realized that all of the Ares kids turn into literal toddlers when they’re sick. But Danny, actually only eleven, seems like a literal baby in this moment. He’s a skinny kid, so when you pick him up he feels like nothing.

“I miss my mom,” he groans into your neck.

“I know,” you say, patting his back.

You complete your rounds of washcloths against hot heads, finally turning around with Danny in your arms. You go back into the bathroom and focus on him for a second, the youngest member of the cabin, touching his forehead.

“You’re not too hot,” you say, encouragingly. You run the tap, wetting the plain white cloth. “But we’ll stick this on anyways.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, head back in your neck. “You’re the best,” he yawns.

When you turn around, Clarisse is crossing her arms in the doorway.

She’s trying her best to look angry, but she’s just pouting.

“Hi, baby,” you smile.

She glares at Danny’s back before reaching forward to grab him from your arms.

“She’s my girlfriend, you little snake,” she huffs, clawing at him.

“Hey!” you shout, pulling back as Danny desperately wraps his legs around your waist, gripping onto your neck for dear life. “He’s eleven, Clarisse.”

“And?” she scoffs. “I’m really sick, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, wetting another washcloth.

“Here you go, you big baby,” you slap it over her forehead and she pouts again, raising her hand to hold it there. “Puppy dog,” you giggle, urging her back to the couch.

“I am not a puppy dog. I’m a pitbull, if anything.”

She sits back in her corner, pushing the blanket aside and opening her arms wide.

“C’mere,” she says, eyes closed, expectant look on her face. “Ditch the snake.”

“Nope,” you smile, flopping down onto the couch, making Danny laugh at the way the two of you bounce.

Danny and Clarisse both settle into your sides, glaring at each other. Danny’s head pressed against your chest, Clarisse’s in her neck. She wraps her arm around your waist and he wraps his around your stomach.

“Gods, Ares kids are so possessive,” you mutter.

“Exactly,” Clarisse replies. She tries to push him away. “Scram,” she says, but it ends in a yawn.

“If Y/N tells me to go then I will,” Danny replies. “I’m only eleven, Clarisse. I need a mom when I’m sick.”

You watch him try to look serious, but he eventually breaks out into a smile.

“Snake,” Clarisse whispers. “Gonna kill you when we’re not sick.”

“No you’re not,” you say, leaning your head against hers. “I’ll walk out right now and take Danny with me.”

She holds you tighter.

“You can’t abandon me in my time of need,” she huffs, and you resist the urge to laugh at the genuine fear in her voice. “I just need you really bad, I was thinking about you all night, angel.”

“Then be on your best behavior,” you smile.

“Yes, ma’am,” she mutters, burrowing her face into your neck. She tugs you closer to her. “You’re so soft. I love you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you smile, kissing her head.

She shakes her head and pouts. “No.”

“Puppy dog,” you say again, but she chooses to ignore you, placated by the feeling of your lips quickly pressing against hers.

“Pretty girlfriend,” she mumbles, eyes falling shut. “Pretty, pretty, really soft girlfriend.”

Matty scoots over to put his head in your lap.

Now permanently caged in, you give up any hopes of escaping when they all fell back asleep, resigning yourself to a day of boredom, being used as a literal pillow for the sick “toddlers” of the Ares cabin.

“Thanks for bringing the light in, Y/N,” Matty mumbles against the top of your thigh. “You, I mean. You’re the light. Was that clear?”

“Matty, go to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles.

“But thank you,” you smile.

You look around the dark, dreary, dirty room.

“Big babies,” you mumble to yourself.

—-

shoutout to danny from music to watch girls too making a second appearance ily

matty is prob my fav original side character for the ares cabin i love him sm so shoutout to him too!!!

and ofc shoutout to clarisse “she’s my girlfriend” la rue

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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gyupinkys · 1 year

Text

POUT SOME MORE

Choi Seuncheol x fem reader

Seungcheol is not a nice man. How could he be? To run a mafia you need to be ruthless and you are no exception to that behavior. No matter how many times he fucks you and tells you he owns you, he will never mean it. Thats until he see's you being a little to friendly with Shownu.

part 2

WC: 3.6K

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, degradation, humiliation, exhibitionism, chocking, impact play, spanking, ruined orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, possessiveness, arranged marriage, knife play if you squint, basically cheol being petty and fucking you in front his friends.

There's nothing in this world you didn’t have. You grew up spoiled out of your mind. Anything you ask for daddy would run and buy. He treasured his one and only daughter, making sure she knew how much he loved her. Despite being the leader of the largest mafia in the continent he never once ignored your needs or neglected you. Your father was always there for you and would do anything for you, you loved him endlessly. But there was one thing he couldn’t give you and that was Choi Seungcheol.

Now, you pride yourself in being a strong woman. So there's no way in hell you would ever long after a man. What do you look like being caught up, sad, and upset over a… man? Just the thought makes you shudder. You didn’t love Seungcheol, not by any means. Sure, you loved the orgasms and the way he filled you up perfectly, but you didn’t love him. He’s far from your type, he’s a womanizer whereas you love pathetic men who do anything you say. You want the treatment you received growing up to carry on into your adult life and Seungcheol is not the man to give you that. But just the thought of not having him grovel over you… beg to be in your presence irks you…

You’re the full package so why doesn’t he want you? You try not to be too caught up on this, busying yourself with your other boy toys, but it’s always eating away at you. Who the fuck does he think he is? Does he think you’re undeserving of him? He’ll fuck you, but not want to date you? Now you’re getting worked up. This is why you cut him off, it’s not worth the stress; it’s been four months without him and you’re (going crazy) fine. You take a sip of your bloody mary and sigh. Looking around you see the man himself enter the club with his stupid posse… god, you despised him. You ignore him, “don’t let men get the best of you.” you whisper to yourself.

“Why is my dumpling so worked up?”

You immediately know who it is and smile. You love this guy.

“Hi, Shownu.” you say smiling up at him. He’s so fucking fine. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, he just returned from overseas business.

“Are you here alone?” he ask, wrapping his hands around your waist.

“No, Yuqi is around here somewhere.”

“Why is she always leaving you?”

“Maybe so a tall, handsome grandpa could come and flirt with me.”

He clutches his chest. “I’m not old,” he says pouting.

“Don’t worry, you know I love an older man, and who else do I get to call daddy?” you smirk.

He groans, clutching your waist harder. “If you keep talking like this I’m gonna drag you out of here.”

You giggle.

On the other side of the club Seungcheol is fuming. His “I don’t care about you” act is backfiring. He has no claim over you and it’s his fault. He needs to maintain his big bad mafia boss act but he so badly wants to start pouting. Jeonghan senses it and nudges him.

“Dude get it together.”

“But do you see her?” he whines. “She’s practically eye fucking him.”

“You’re literally whining! People are gonna start looking.”

“Jeonghan you don’t get it! I literally fucked her brains out and then she cut me off! And look at her she doesn’t even care.” he says as the whining increases. He’s two seconds away from actually stomping his foot.

“I don’t know how people buy this “alpha” act, you're actually just a little bitch.” Jeonghan says and rolls his eyes.

Seungcheol dramatically gasps. “Why would you say that to me?”

“Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“And say what?”

“Cheol. I can’t tell you how to live your life. What will you do when I die?”

“I’ll just die with you.” he says seriously.

Jeonghan just groans and pushes Cheol towards you.

“Keep it cool, keep it cool, keep it cool” he whispers to himself as he walks over to you.

He slides in the empty space behind you and orders a bourbon at the bar. You and Shownu turn to look at him.

“Y/N. Shownu” he nods at both of you.

“Hello, Seungcheol” you say with a small smile and Shownu just nods in return. You can sense an ego off about to happen and quickly make your exit.

“Shownu, I’ll text you.” you say and get up only for Cheol to grab your shoulder.

“And what about me?”

“What about you, Cheol?”

He doesn’t want to sound pathetic and beg.

“You suck my dick and say I’m yours and suddenly you’re acting like you don’t want to see me?” Nice one Seungcheol, way to fuck it up.

You raise your eyebrows at him and scoff. “Shownu will get a text because I don’t have to fake orgasms with him. He actually makes me cum.” you say with an innocent smile making Cheol scoff.

You pat Shownu on the shoulder and walk off.

“Nice one man, maybe if you try respecting her she’ll fuck you.”

“I don’t need advice from you.”

“You sure? 'Cause I'm the one who's gonna be deep in that pussy tonight” Shownu shrugs, walking away leaving Cheol pouting at the bar.

“Dude, that was really bad.” Joshua says sliding next to him, making Cheol glare at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t end up texting Shownu. You heard about his arranged marriage thats being planned through the grapevine and one thing you don’t do is fuck married men. You stuck to your trusty vibrator to get you through the night. As you’re about to get out of bed you get a phone call from Yuqi. You know she’s gonna be recounting her entire experience last night in full detail. With a sigh you answer.

“Y/N. What did you do to Seungcheol last night?”

“Nothing?”

“When you left the bar he started pouting and whining to that friend of his; The American one. Look, I even caught it on camera.”

You rush to open your messages to see a video of Cheol sitting at the bar with a huge pout on his face. You can’t hear what they’re saying but his friend is just sitting there laughing. You start to laugh too, he looks so pathetic.

“I’m gonna call him. I’ll call you back.”

“Tell me what he says!”

You scroll through your contacts until you find his phone number. You never bothered to give him a contact, he’s just a quick fuck after all (no he’s not). You call him and after a few rings he answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Chollie.”

“Finally decided you want me?”

“I don’t know about all that. But, I think someone wants me more than they’re letting on.”

“Who?”

“I heard this guy was practically crying over the fact I turned him down. He was pouting and whining like a baby.”

“Oh, I didn’t hear anything about that.”

“Oh, I bet Cheollie.”

“Y/n. Did you just call me to try to make fun of me?”

“Me? Make fun of you? I would never. I’m just shocked that more people don’t know the “scary big bad alpha leader” is secretly a little bitch.”

“Y/N, the next time I see you, you’re really in for it.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine and you’ll leave crying.”

“We shall see, Bunny.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw him you were indeed not in for it. You attended a Gala with your father which, to you, ensured Cheol would do nothing out of line. To say he was scared of your father was an understatement. To be fair everyone is scared of your father, except you. After tagging along with your dad to meet “potential husbands” you tell him you’ve had enough and would rather be shot than get married to which he rolls his eyes.

“Dad, Have you seen Choi SeungCheol?”

“Why? Do you have a crush on him? He’s a very dedicated young man I approve.”

You roll your eyes. “More like he has a crush on me.”

“Good to know. He’s probably upstairs.”

“Thanks. Text me when you’re ready to go.”

You head upstairs trying to not look like you’re searching for him. There's no sign of him or any of his rat friends which is weird. You walk to the bar trying to be mysterious but probably just looking lost and confused.

“Y/N, You look lovely.”

You turn around to see Yuta leaning against a pillar looking as dashing as ever.

“Hi, Yuta.” you say walking up to him and giving him a genuine smile.

“Are you looking for someone?”

“Seungcheol”

“Well from the stare I feel boring into my head I can assume he’s behind me.”

You giggle, a little over exaggerated if you're honest but you just want to piss Cheol off if he’s actually behind him.You’re too nervous to look behind Yuta so you keep your eyes on him.

“He’s so dramatic.”

“Are you two dating?”

“Yuta. Look at who you're talking to. I don’t date.”

“You’re right, my bad. But why are you trying to make him jealous?”

“I’m doing no such thing.”

“You can’t fool me Y/N.” he says and pulls you into his chest.

“Might as well make your lies good.” he smirks and places a kiss on your jaw making you smile.

“Thanks.” you say as you peek over Yuta’s shoulder and see Cheol get up and walk away with Jeonghan at his side.

“My work here is done” Yuta says and winks as he walks away leaving you to your own accord on the bar.

About an hour later you receive a text from your dad telling you to meet him downstairs. To your utter shock, standing at the door is your father, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan; laughing and chatting like they’ve been friends for years. What the fuck? You rush down the stairs as they wrap up their conversation.

“Dad?”

“Oh, Y/N, let's go, I have some paperwork to draft.” he says, winking at Cheol.

Did they make a deal or something? Jeonghan is just smiling mischievously at you, making you more concerned.

“I’ll be seeing you real soon, Y/N” Cheol says with a smirk as he leaves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fiancé?” You feel like fainting. You feel like killing someone, anyone, you feel like killing Seungcheol.

“What do you mean we're getting married?” you say feeling your temper rise. So this is what they were talking about at the gala? A fucking arranged marriage? God, you feel like crying.

You look at your dad with tears in your eyes. “Dad?”

He sighs. “Y/N, You know I love you, but you need to settle down. And Cheol said you two have been dating for months. Am I so wrong to want to see my daughter marry the man she loves?”

“What are you talking about?” you spit enraged. “I don’t even like Cheol. He’s so fucking annoying and I don’t want to settle down! Especially with him.”

Cheol walks up to you with a smooth smile. “Baby, Don’t be like that. It really hurts when you act like you don’t want me.”

You feel like killing him. Matter of fact, you will kill him. You run over to the living room center table and take out one of the many guns stashed there. Your dad quickly grabs you, probably anticipating your actions.

“Dad I don’t want to marry him” you say as you start to cry, throwing yourself on the floor.

“Y/N. I’ve spoiled you for too long. It’s time for you to face the real world.” your dad says as he pats your shoulder. “Cheol, I’ll see you around. Take Y/N to your house, let her see her new home.”

You feel like your world is falling apart. You did wish for this, but now that you have it, it doesn't taste as sweet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You glare at Cheol from across the dining room table. He looks so fucking smug as he eats with his 12 fucking gremlins. God, You want to fucking break something. Why does he get to do this to you? He’s taking it too fucking far. You’re being forced to “meet his friends” like you give a fuck about any of them, but come to think of it, maybe you could use them to your advantage.

You turn to the man on your left who has barely spoken a word to anyone but Jeonghan this entire time. “Joshua, Right?”

“That's me,” he says with a sweet smile. You see straight through him though, he’s probably awful.

“Maybe if I met you first I wouldn’t be here. You are much cuter than Cheol.” you pout. His smile just widens and he shakes his head. “It’s a little too late unfortunately, maybe in another life.”

“I don’t see why not in this life.” you say as you run your finger across his hand resting on the table.

He looks at your hand and back at you. “Do you want him to murder me?”

“I’d rather he murder me at this point.” you sigh.

“Y/N.” Cheol growls out making you sigh more dramatically.

“Yes, Cheollie?” you say sarcastically as ever.

“Why are you flirting with Joshua?”

“I was just wondering if he could actually make me cum. I’d love to have one last orgasm before I marry you and be bound to a life of awful sex.”

The room becomes eerily silent. You doubt anyone is even breathing. Joshua is looking like he wants to murder you but you're having the time of your life.

“Come here.”

Your eyes widen at his tone. Woah. He’s not fucking around anymore. You get your ass up and walk around the table feeling all eyes on you. As you round the edge you gulp.

“Take a seat.”

You need to take a deep breath. You feel like all the air in the room is being sucked out. You sit in his lap and look in his eyes.

“Any other request, Daddy?” you say with a smirk.

Making someone behind you choke on his drink and another clear his throat.

Cheol’s hand flys to your throat and pulls your face towards him, forcing the little air in it out. “Don’t fucking play with me.” he spits into your ear.

“And what are you gonna do about it? Not make me cum?” you smile as his hand tightens. You can tell he’s embarrassed, not only are you embarrassing him but you're embarrassing him in front of his friends.

“Y/N. If I do remember correctly, the last time we fucked, you were crying and begging me to stop, clearly your the one who can’t handle some good dick. Two orgasms and you tap out?”

“I’ve always been told I’m a great actor.”

“Well let me refresh your memory.”

He pushes everything in front of him off the table and lays you flat on your back.

“Y/N, I try so hard. I try to be kind, to be sweet, to be the man you would want.” he says as he takes his steak knife and cuts through your top. “But it seems that's not the man you deserve. You deserve someone who will treat you like the fucking bitch you are, you just want someone to fuck you like a whore huh? You go around giving this pussy up to everyone, about time I make it mine.”

You try to defend yourself but his hand on your throat only tightens. “Josh, Hold her hands down for me won’t you?”

Cheol looks down at you. “Since this is a community pussy, I’m sure you won’t mind if I use some help.” he smiles down at you.

He pulls your pants off your body leaving you in just your bra and panties.

“My beautiful, Fiancé”

“Cheol Stop.” you say as you push your hips into him. You don’t even know what you want. You want to get up and stab him but you want to feel him stretch you open as his friends look. Actually you just want to piss him off.

“Stop? I don’t think I want to.”

“Joshua, take a good look. This is what you’re gonna get next.” you say smiling at Joshua.

One second you're smirking at Joshua and the next your cheek is on fire. Did this motherfucker just slap you?

“Don’t look so shocked baby. You don't remember being on your knees, begging me to slap that pretty face?”

Your cheeks heat up. God, he’s humiliating you.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He begins to harshly rub your clit over your panties, just the way you like it.. “I don’t think you want me to stop anyways. This pussy is dripping for me.”

“Are you sure it's dripping for you?”

He just chuckles. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking move tommorrow.”

He pulls your panties off and throws them to the center of the table. “A treat for one of you.” He plays with your clit some more, pinching it and rolling it making you get closer and closer to the edge.

“I would stretch you out, but I doubt I need to. I’m sure sluts like you keep themselves nice and stretched.” You don’t even know when he unzipped his pants, let alone pulled out his dick. He rubs his tip through your folds making your eyes roll back. Youre already so fucking overstimulated, all the eyes on you, his degrading words, and the fact that you haven’t fucked anyone in weeks is killing you.

“Beg.” he says looking into your eyes.

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” he says and tucks himself back into his pants. “And none of them are going to fuck you.”

Your eyes widen at this. Fuck. What do you want more? Your pride or dick? Ugh, and he already has you so close to an orgasm.

“Please.” you whisper.

“Did you say something?”

“Please.” you say a little louder.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Louder”

“Please fuck me Cheol!”

“Louder” he smirks, making you groan.

“Please fuck me Cheol, I need it so fucking bad.” you frustratedly yell out

“There we go.” he says and he slides in bottoming out. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, immediately setting a beyond brutal pace.You have a feeling he wants it to hurt. It feels like he’s in your guts, you can barely breathe. Every thrust is sending you further up the table. You can’t even grip onto anything due to Joshua’s harsh grip.

“God.” you moan out.

“Don’t call for God, he can’t help you.” he grunts as he somehow fucks you harder causing the skin on your thighs to begin to sting. “Cheol, Please.”

“Please what, Baby?”

“Please let me cum.”

“Oh, Now I can make you cum? What happened to all that talk from before?”

“Cheol, I need it so bad.”

“I don’t care. Don’t cum.”

You hate this motherfucker. Tears begin to flow from your eyes from frustration and pleasure. “Cheol Please.”

“No.”

You were never one to listen anyways. You let go and cum all over him making him stop thrusting. “You’re real bold, baby.”

A harsh slap lands directly on your clit making your back arch. He hits you again and again, ruining your post orgasm bliss. “You know what? You want to cum? Then cum.” He begins thrusting again, rubbing your clit in the way he knows you like. Moments like this you wish he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. He thrusts straight into your g-spot making you moan loudly, coming out more as a scream. “Feel good, baby?” he smirks as you begin to cry more.

“It feels so good.” you moan.

“Cum for me.”

After a few more thrust you cum turning your face and looking straight into Jeonghan’s eyes. You can’t believe he’s letting all his friends watch this. Just the thought makes you cum even harder, to the point where you start squirting over his chest, making his white button down turn clear.

“Oh look at you, baby. Squirting all over me.”

How is this man still going? You feel like you’re going to pass out and you know you’re not close to done.

“Cheol I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t take it anymore.” you breathe out.

He just laughs at you. “I don’t care.” he says looking you dead in the eye.

He keeps up his brutal pace making you groan. “Cheol please.”

“Shut the fuck up and take it.”

You start squirming and trying to break out of Joshua’s hold.

“Don’t run, baby. Take what I give you.”

Fuck. That was hot. You clench on him, making him groan. “You like that? You like having to sit here and take it? Not having a choice but to be my personal sex toy?”

This is why you wanted him so bad. He knows how to fuck you, he knows what to say, he knows how to treat you, break you, put you in your place.

“Cheol, I’m cumming.”

He pulls out right before you tip over. Cumming over your stomach and chest. Joshua lets go of your hands and you shoot up with wide eyes. “What the fuck?”

He pulls you in for a kiss and whispers against your lips. “Next time you want to be a brat, remember this feeling.” He winks and tucks himself into his slacks.

“I’ll see you baby, I have work to do.”

With that everyone gets up and leaves, trying to hide their hard ons and pretend they aren’t phased. When you look around for your panties you see theyre gone. You look at the guys and see your pretty pink panties sticking out of Joshua's pocket.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #choi seungcheol smut #scoups x reader

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callmeagardengnome · 10 days

Text

✶ silver and nerds ✶ | MARK LEE

pairings ༄ nerd/loser!mark x stoner! fem! reader

genre ༄ college au, romance, SLOWW BURNNN, kinda angsty but hurt/comfort 😗

synopsis ༄ entering college, mark had two goals: get good grades and get bad bitches. unfortunately for him, the grades were easy but the girls? not so much. being stuck with the ‘nerd persona’, mark was practically invisible - until he met you.

w.c ༄ 7.6k

c.w ༄ reader has a boyfriend AT FIRST, mentions of smoking and taking weed (its nct), cheating (not the reader tho), mention of needles (NOT THE DRUG KIND, the piercings kind) mark has never been in a r/s, swearing.

author’s note: i just wrote this for the vibez so ignore any weird pacing shit ik its off 😭. also not my best work BUT IM DONEE make sure to like and repost!!!

not proofread!

other fics

mark tapped his pen against his notebook, waiting for the minutes the pass by. he could hear dozens of conversations happening around him, but none of them were directed at him. it never was.

maybe it was because of the constant note taking or the stack of files he always carried, but most just assumed that he was stuck up. too smart to hang out with anyone, too focused on his grades to waste time socialising.

but in reality - he just didn’t know how to talk to people.

mark sighed, slouching further into his chair. he flipped through his notes, trying to focus but his mind kept getting distracted. he was supposed to tutor some girl after school - he didn’t even know who it was.

all the tutoring office said was that she would be meeting him at the library after his classes. he hoped that this session would be easier than his last, especially after that student ignored him and stuck to their phone the whole time.

mark glanced at his watch - ten minutes until the tutor session started. he gathered his things, stuffing his notebooks and textbooks into his bag before heading over to the library.

“just get this over with,” he muttered to himself.

he approached the row of tables reserved for tutoring, laying out the different notes and materials he had. the chances of him actually using them were low - after all, a lot of students booked tutoring sessions just to get their teachers off of their back, but it didn’t hurt to look like he was teaching something.

the squeak of a chair being pulled across him snapped him out of his thoughts. he looked up and froze.

it was you.

of course he recognised you, who wouldn’t? you were one of the prettiest girls on campus, scratch that, you were one of the prettiest girls mark has ever seen.

within the first month of school, you already landed a boyfriend - one of the popular senior football players. you were pretty and friendly, it was only natural that you were going to find someone that fast.

not only that, you didn’t get yourself into any drama. no flirting with other guys or bitching about other people behind their back, you were one of the unproblematic ones, rarely involved in rumours.

but the rumours about you smoking? yeah, those was definitely true. you were known for showing up to class buzzed but still managing to maintain relatively decent grades.

“you’re mark, right?” you smiled as you sat down. “thanks for doing this, i really need help.”

mark blinked, pushing his glasses up nervously. “y- yeah.. no problem.”

you reached into your bag, pulling out a few sheets of crumpled paper and pens.

“chemistry’s been fucking me over,” you said, brushing your hair out of your face. “i’m more of a ‘study last minute’ kind of person, but that’s hasn’t been working out recently.”

mark cleared his throat, trying to avoid your gaze. “well, that’s what i’m here for. let’s start with the basics.”

“thanks,” you leaned back into your chair, twirling a pen between your fingers. “i know you probably don’t tutor people like me much.”

mark frowned, raising an eyebrow. “people like you?”

you shrugged, crossing your legs. “you know.. people who barely show up to class.”

“i don’t care about that,” he shook his head, rearranging the table.

“good to know,” you yawned, rubbing your eyes. “sorry if i’m a little out of it, i smoked before coming here.”

“that’s… fine,” he nodded, unsure of how to respond and opened the textbook in front of him. “you know the basics about atoms, right? let’s focus on the details.”

mark walked you through the lesson, trying not to stumble over his words as you watched him intently. to his surprise, you didn’t just sit back and zone out like many did, you actually asked questions. and for someone who didn’t turn up much for class, you weren’t as lost as you made it sound.

the session went smoother than he thought, with him covering a few key concepts and giving you some notes to bring back and revise. you packed up your things at the end, flashing him a smile. “thanks mark, same time next week?”

he nodded slowly. “works for me.”

and you showed up - again and again.

at first, mark thought it was some weird obligation that you had towards either him or the tutoring system. but days turned into weeks, and it was clear: you weren’t just attending. you were learning.

he couldn’t believe it - someone like you, popular, the complete opposite of him, was actually listening to him.

you were taking his advice, asking questions, doing practices that he suggested and you even asked to see him everyday because you wanted to learn more. it was.. strange, but mark wasn’t complaining.

you set your pen down as you finished up with one of the problems. you looked up at him with a grin. “i think i finally did it.”

mark’s eyes widened, looking down at the worksheet. it was right, perfect even. “you- you actually got it. that’s.. good.”

you laughed, your voice light. “why do you sound so surprised? you’re a tutor.”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “i’m just.. not used to people listening to me.”

“why wouldn’t i?” you asked, tilting your head. “you’re good at teaching- you explain shit better than my professor.”

mark stared at you, wondering why his heart was beating a little faster than usual. you gathered your things, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “see you tomorrow, mark.”

“yeah,” mark said quietly, still stunned. “see you tomorrow.”

⋆｡𖦹°‧★.☘︎ ݁⋆｡𖦹°‧★.☘︎ ݁

“i got a seventy on my test!” you exclaimed, glowing with excitement as you waved your worksheet in front of him.

it had been about two months since you’ve started your sessions with mark, and your grades improved. you went from barely knowing anything about the subject to being able to solve complex problems - and it’s all thanks to mark.

you’ve grown to really appreciate the guy, and not just for his tutoring skills, but for his patience that he had when teaching you, especially when you asked a ton of questions.

“that’s great! i’m really proud of you,” mark said, a wide smile on his face. “you’re improving a lot.”

“well, it’s because of you. you’re super smart,” you said as you leaned back into the chair. “i’m surprised you don’t have a line of girls waiting for your attention.”

mark ran his fingers through his hair, giving a small, awkward chuckle. to be completely honest, mark did not have luck in the dating scene. even though he entered college, thinking that it was a place to meet new people - potentially a partner, his reputation of being ‘stuck up’ clung to him faster than he could blink.

but after a while, he got tired of being viewed that way, and he got tired of being single. right now, he needed to make changes, something that would make him more likeable or ‘relatable’ to others. but there was one problem: he didn’t know where to start.

“hey uh-“ mark said as he placed his notes on the table. “can i ask you something?”

“sure,” you nodded.

mark fidgeted with the edge of his textbook. “what do girls find cool.. or attractive in a guy.”

you paused, tilting your head. “that’s random. why do you ask?”

“i want to change things..” mark looked away, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “you know, things about me. i just wanted to know what girls liked nowadays.”

“you don’t need to change anything,” you frowned, leaning towards him. “you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“thank you-” mark felt a slight blush rising in his cheeks, but he ignored it, focusing on his question. “-but i really want girls to notice me, i don’t know what i’m doing wrong.”

you scoffed. “you’re not doing anything wrong. it’s their fault if they can’t see what an amazing guy you are…”

“…but you really want to know, huh?” you mumbled, crossing your arms.

mark finally looked back at you, nodding eagerly. you sighed, thinking about his question before continuing. “i don’t know what girls find ‘cool’ nowadays, but i think piercings are hot.”

“really?” mark’s eyes widened in surprise, not expecting that as your answer. “your boyfriend doesn’t have piercings.”

“he doesn’t like them, said that they weren’t his style,” you shrugged. “but i don’t care, everyone has their own thing.”

mark bit the inside of his cheek, tapping his foot against the floor out of habit. “where would someone go if they wanted piercings? you know- if i wanted one?”

“i actually did my own,” you said, tucking your hair behind as you showed him the variety of piercings on your ear. “it’s not too bad as long as you know what you’re doing.”

“you did them yourself?” mark’s eyes widened in surprise. “would you uh- could you do it for me..?”

you chuckled, nodding. “sure, if you really want to.”

“just let me know when you’re up for it and come over to my place,” you said with a wink. “and don’t worry, i’ll make sure it’s safe.”

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the smell of weed and smoke hit mark as soon as he entered your dorm. the windows were cracked open, but it didn’t do much to clear the air. a bag of green leaves sat on your coffee table next to a small glass pipe.

“sorry about the mess,” you said, waving your hand lazily to try and remove the smoke. “you kinda texted me in the middle of something.”

“sorry, i can leave if you-“

“nonono you can stay,” you grabbed his arm, bringing him over to the couch. “make yourself comfortable. it’s totally fine.”

mark sat down, trying not to focus on the haze in the air while you disappeared into another room. you came back a few moments later, holding a small case of needles, disinfecting wipes and jewelry.

“so, you’re very sure about this?” you asked as you sat beside him, spreading your supplies on the coffee table.

“yeah, i’m sure..” mark swallowed the lump in his throat. “i just don’t know what to get pierced.”

you looked at him for a second, then nodded. “alright, let me help you decide.” you scooted closer, grabbing his face, turning it from side to side as you inspected it.

your fingers on his skin made him more flustered than he’d like to admit, and he was sure that the heat rising to his face was noticeable. he couldn’t help but stare at you while you were so close, watching your wide eyes scan him.

“hmm,” you mumbled, slowly letting go of his face. “nose piercing.”

mark blinked, his mind taking a moment to catch up. “a nose piercing..?”

“mhm, it suits you,” you nodded as you grabbed your case of needles. “but if you don’t want a hole on your face, that’s fine. we can do your ears-“

“-no a nose piercing sounds good,” mark sat up straighter, nodding. he didn’t want to seem indecisive in front of you - not when you were giving him this much attention.

you smiled at his sudden enthusiasm, and picked up a fake nose ring and a mirror. “try this on first, see if you like how it looks.”

mark took the ring and mirror, ignoring how shaky his hands felt. he awkwardly held the ring up to his nose as he looked into the mirror. he thought he looked.. alright. there wasn’t as much as a difference as much as he’d like - but if you thought that it suited him, maybe he could trust that.

“well?” you asked, tilting your head.

he looked back at you, handing over your things. “i think it’s fine.”

“fine?” you grinned. “you look cool, trust me.”

mark chuckled nervously, fidgeting with his sleeves. “okay, let’s do it.”

you cleaned the area with a disinfectant wipe before pulling out a fresh needle and small nose ring from your kit, turning back to mark. “alright, this won’t hurt much. just a pinch.”

mark nodded, shifting nervously on the couch, trying to prepare himself as you moved closer to him.

“here,” you said, gently placing two fingers on his chin, guiding his face towards you. “stay still for me, okay?”

your closeness made it difficult for mark to focus. he could feel your breath, warm against his skin. and the smell of weed and vanilla scented perfume that always stuck to your clothes took over his senses.

his first instinct was to look directly at you - your eyes, your lips - but he quickly moved his gaze down to your hand instead, trying to keep his mind from wandering.

“don’t worry, i’ve done this a lot,” you reassured him, brushing a stray hair off of his face before your fingers returned to his chin.

mark felt a blush creeping up his neck. he glanced down at the coffee table, your bag, at the posters on your walls - anywhere but at your face or the way your body was leaning in. he gulped, feeling how you were aligning the needle.

“ready?” you asked, your voice soft.

he nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second before opening them quickly again when he realised how silly that looked. you pressed the needle through his nose, making mark wince slightly out of shock - but before he could fully register the pain, it was over.

“there, all done,” you said, your fingers lingering on his face as you fixed the small hoop in place. “that wasn’t too bad, right?”

mark exhaled, finally looking at you in the eyes as you leaned back. “yeah.. it wasn’t too bad.”

he reached up to touch the new piercing, still avoiding to look at you for too long. his face was warm, and he could still feel the ghost on your fingers on his cheek. his heart was pounding in his ear, but he kept his cool - after all, you had a boyfriend.

you smiled at him, clearly pleased. “told you it’d suit you. you look good, mark.”

good? mark pushed down the fluttering feeling he had in his chest, clearing his throat. “thanks..”

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during your next tutoring session, mark fidgeted with his new piercing, still getting used to how it felt. his eyes kept going back to you as you sat across him, completely focused on the problem he gave you.

“what else can i do?” he asked, breaking the silence. you glanced up, raising an eyebrow. mark cleared his throat, quickly blurting out, “to.. you know, change.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “mark, you really don’t need to do anything. you’re fine just the way you are.”

mark sighed, a little frustrated. “i know- you keep saying that.. but i want to do more.”

“well, it’s really not about how you look.” you paused, scanning him up and down. “but you need to start putting yourself out there. like, talk to people.”

mark blinked as he repeated your words. “talk to people?” he could barely talk to you without stuttering every few sentences, what made you think that he would be good enough to talk to other people? “how do i do that?”

you laughed softly, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “well, you’re already talking to me. all you need is a group of people to hang out with.”

mark looked up, meeting your eyes. “can i- can i hang out with you..?”

the words fell out of his mouth before he could even catch it. as soon as it did, he could feel his heart sinking. you could easily reject this idea - after all, you didn’t know each other that long.

he started to regret asking this question, feeling a bead of sweat run down his cheek. stupid. why did he ask that?

but then, to his surprise, he saw a smile form on your face. “sure,” you said casually, completely unaware of how he was spiralling. “i mean- the only person i really hang out with is my boyfriend, but i’m sure he’s fine with it. you can come with us, no big deal.”

mark nodded, trying to hide his relief. of course it was a big deal.

he was one step closer to actually having friends in college. even though mark had been meeting you for about three months, you only ever saw each other for tutoring sessions - which became less frequent recently.

sure, being a third wheel in your hangouts with your boyfriend might suck for a while, but if it meant having a friend? anything was better than drowning in textbooks as everyone else seemed to have their own lives.

this was his chance to get out of that - and he was going to take it.

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mark found himself hanging out with you and your boyfriend, tagging along in outings or ‘study sessions’ - which always started focused but would eventually lead to the both of you high, leaving mark awkwardly sitting in the middle of laughter and clouds of smoke. but he didn’t mind.

you lit a joint, inhaling deeply before passing it over to your boyfriend, who took it without a word. “want one?” you offered mark, turning to him.

“uh, no thanks,” he replied.

“suit yourself,” you said as you leaned back, smoke falling lazily from your lips.

your boyfriend was nice enough, trying his best to get along with mark, but there was always a distance there. mark could sense the slight discomfort whenever you invited him along. still, your boyfriend tried to hide it, clearly making an effort to be respectful and not push your new friend away.

still, it wasn’t all bad. in fact, there was a moment that felt.. a little different from the rest. like when you and mark were in the middle of your usual tutor sessions.

he was explaining a new concept to you, one that you managed to understand and focus on for a while - until mark’s phone lit up with a notification, revealing his wallpaper which had a character from your favourite series.

“wait, you watch the show?” you asked, your eyes lighting up as you pointed to his phone.

mark blinked, cutting his explanation short. “yeah.. you know it?”

“know it? dude- that’s like my favourite thing to see when i’m high,” you said with a grin, leaning closer. “i watch it all the time.”

mark chuckled. “seriously? i didn’t know you liked stuff like this.”

“it has a good plot, what can i say?” you said as you tucked your legs onto the chair. “plus, that show is hilarious when you’re baked.”

he couldn’t help but smile - it was rare to find someone who was interested in the same, niche things he did. and now, here you were, talking about it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

the two of you spent the next hour geeking over the show - talking about your favourite episodes, characters and moments that had you both on the floor.

at some point, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through screenshots of your favourite scenes, laughing as you shared them with him.

and that’s when it hit mark.

he was starting to like you. not just because you enjoyed the same things as him or actually took the time to get to know him - but you never made him feel like he had to be someone else around you.

you made him feel like a person, someone that didn’t need to change.

mark felt his heart clench. he pushed his feelings down, reminding himself that you had a boyfriend. but as he spent more time with you, it became harder to ignore. he was falling for you - slowly, without meaning to.

he glanced at you, still laughing at a clip on your phone, and mark could feel his heart racing. while he could pass off his feelings for you as a ‘simple crush’, the truth was far from that.

he wanted to be around you more, he wanted to make you smile, he wanted to make you laugh, he wanted to be the one that would hear you talk about random things that happened in your day, he wanted to be by your side, helping you with whatever you need.

but you’re taken, he reminded himself. no matter how much he tried to shove his feelings down, they kept bubbling up. and the more he denied them, the stronger they grew.

still, he kept quiet. for now, he was your friend, and he was happy with that - or at least that’s what he told himself.

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a few months passed, and in that time, mark gained more confidence - both in his appearance and in himself.

he started working out more, hoping that it would distract him from the feelings he had for you. while he did get healthier, one thing never changed: his massive crush on you.

he would always feel guilty when his heart raced whenever you spent time together, after all, you were in a relationship. but it was especially hard to suppress his feelings when you were sitting next to him, looking at him with twinkling eyes.

“do you understand?” mark looked up from his notebook.

you nodded, your attention moving back to your paper when suddenly - your phone buzzed.

you glanced at it, your expression changing as you read the notification. mark noticed the change immediately - you sat up straighter, your fingers gripping your phone more tighter than before.

“what’s wrong?” mark asked, frowning.

you took in a deep breath, turning your phone to show him a message you got on instagram.

“my friend just sent me this,” you clicked on the photo, and mark’s heart sank as he saw your boyfriend, sitting in the cafeteria with another girl - kissing her.

you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a scrape. “i need to go,” you muttered, already halfway out the door.

“wait- where are you going?” mark called out, grabbing his jacket as he followed you out of the building.

“to the cafeteria,” you choked out, wiping tears with the back of your hand.

by the time you arrived, your hands were trembling. sure enough, there he was - your boyfriend, his arms around a girl in the middle of the busy cafeteria, completely oblivious to the world around him. rage and heartbreak hit you at once, and before you could stop yourself, you were shouting across the room.

“are you kidding me?”

heads turned, but at this point, you didn’t care. your boyfriend looked up, his face shocked before it turned into something.. detached. “oh come on, like you’re not cheating on me with mark?” he shot back, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

your eyes widened. “what the hell are you talking about? i’ve never cheated on you.”

“right,” he snorted, leaning into the girl next to him. “you’re always hanging out with him and talking to him like he’s the only one in the room. i’m not stupid.”

you were seething, tears brimming in your eyes. “i’ve been loyal to you- every single second of this relationship. i would never do that to you. but clearly, you don’t think the same.”

his smirk faded, but you didn’t wait for him to respond. you left, leaving him and his excuses behind.

mark followed you, but he didn’t say anything. you turned to him, your face stained with tears. “i can’t be in public right now,” you mumbled, your voice breaking.

he nodded, allowing you to lead him back to your dorm. soon enough, you slammed the door open, frantically searching your drawers for something. mark watched, his chest tightening when he realised what you were looking for - your stash of weed.

he stepped forward, placing his hand over yours. “that’s not a good idea.”

you sniffed, curling up into a ball. “but i don’t know what to do, it hurts.”

mark froze. he’s never been in a position where he had to comfort someone. but he knew one thing - the sight of you, broken and vulnerable, made his heart ache.

he sat beside you on the floor, his arms hesitating for a moment before wrapping around your shoulders. you leaned into him, letting out a shaky breath as you sobbed quietly into his chest.

“i don’t get it,” you whispered, clutching his shirt. “i thought he loved me.”

mark closed his eyes, his mind racing - but now wasn’t the time for his own feelings. right now, you needed comfort.

he rested his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter. “i’m so sorry,” he muttered. “you deserve much more than him.”

“i feel so stupid,” you said, your voice muffled by his shoulder. you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of your sobs filling the room.

eventually, you pulled back slightly, wiping the trails of tears on your face. “sorry about that. i probably look horrible right now,” you mumbled, letting out a sad laugh. “i’m not a pretty crier.”

mark frowned, his thumb gently brushing the tears that were on your cheek. “that’s not true,” he said softly. “you’re always beautiful.”

you blinked, your tear-filled eyes widening just a bit. “you don’t have to say that-“

“-i mean it,” mark interrupted. his eyes softened, his hand still resting on your cheek. “and you don’t have to apologise for feeling hurt. none of this is your fault.”

for a second, you just stared at him, his words sinking in. you wiped your face again, giving a weak smile. “thank you, mark. i’m so lucky to have you.”

mark’s hand finally dropped from your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. “yeah,” he said quietly. “lucky.”

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weeks passed since that night and you had officially dumped your trash of a boyfriend. even though the wound was still fresh, mark noticed something.. different about you.

you were smiling more, laughing more.

you were always fun to be around, but now.. you were glowing - in a way that made it impossible for mark to ignore his feelings.

he knew it was wrong - he was supposed to be your friend, not falling for you. but as much as he tried to keep it together, jealousy would creep up from time to time

whenever you two hung out, guys would approach you - asking for your number, trying to get your attention or just flirting boldly.

you always declined, never showing much interest, but mark couldn’t help but feel jealous flare up within him. it was irrational, he knew that. he was just your friend, not your boyfriend. yet, the idea of you being with someone else ate him alive.

it didn’t help that the two of you had a weekly routine - after every tutoring session, you’d curl up together to watch your favourite comfort show. it became your thing, something that mark cherished more than he’d like to admit.

during one of your usual nights, he glanced over at you, sitting comfortably beside him. “why do you always turn them down?” he blurted out, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“huh?” you looked at him, confused. “turn who down?”

mark cleared his throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “the guys.. i mean- every time we hang out, someone would hit on you, and you always reject them..” he hesitated, unsure of how to continue. “..i just wondered why.”

you chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. “they’re not my type,” you said, shrugging.

“w- what is your type then?” he blinked, his curiosity got to the better of him.

you raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as you leaned closer. “you.”

mark froze, his brain short-circuiting for a second. you? did you just..? his face flushed instantly and he opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. his mind scrambled to come up with something coherent, but all he could think about was the way your words made his heart skip several beats.

you laughed, clearly amused. “relax, mark,” you said with a grin, moving away and focusing on the TV. “i’m just messing with you.”

he chuckled awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair. “right.”

but after you returned back to the show, there was only one question that stuck to the back of his mind:

what if you weren’t just joking?

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rumours began to flood in not long after you broke up with your ex. you and mark had always spent time together, but now that you were single, people seemed to notice more - and they definitely had opinions.

“she broke up with the hottie just to hang out with him?”

“guess she was cheating with that loser the whole time.”

it didn’t take long for the whispers to reach the both of you, and you could see how much it was affecting mark. he was used to insults being thrown his way, but now that they were dragging you into it? it felt worse.

as you and mark were grabbing coffee after a tutoring session, a couple of girls at the next table were whispering loud enough for you to hear.

“she just dumped her boyfriend and now she’s with him? what a slut.”

you saw mark’s face tighten as he overheard, his fists clenching. the rumours didn’t bother you as much as him, but it pained you to see how upset he was.

“let’s go,” you muttered, grabbing your coffee as you motioned him to follow you.

as you walked outside, mark seemed quieter than usual, his shoulders slumped. he glanced at you, looking away quickly, his jaw clenched. “i’m sorry.”

you frowned, tilting your head. “for what?”

“people keep saying stuff about you because of me,” mark kept his eyes fixed on the ground. “you don’t deserve to have people spreading rumours like that.”

you stopped walking, grabbing his arm. “mark, stop. this has nothing to do with you, okay? people just talk for the sake of talking.”

mark’s eyes softened. as much as he wanted to believe that you didn’t care what people thought, but he couldn’t shake off the guilt. it wasn’t fair to you. you deserved more than what he could offer, and as much as he hated your ex, at least people respected you when you were with him.

in the days after that, mark tried his best to act normal. but he thought about the whispers every time you were together. whenever someone glanced your way or made an offhand comment, it felt like a punch to the gut.

you on the other hand, brushed off all the remarks, giving him a smile when he started to look too worried. but even then, he felt guilty.

without realising it at first, mark started to.. distance himself from you. it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around you - it was far from that. he just didn’t know how to deal with the guilt gnawing at him.

he’d watch you from across the lecture hall, a strange feeling twisting in his stomach. you would wave at him, but instead of feeling happy, it only made him feel worse. the thought of being the reason of why people started rumours about you haunted him.

sometimes, you would text him, asking if he wanted to hang out like dozens of times before. mark stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the send button.

he wanted to say yes. he always wanted to say yes.

but instead, he typed out: sorry, not today. got a lot of work to do.

it was a lie, but he convinced himself that distancing himself from you was the best move - it would save you from gossip, from judgement.

but you noticed his weird behaviour.

at your next tutoring session, he barely looked at you. instead of cracking your inside jokes or teaching you topics with excitement, mark kept his head down, focusing too much on the textbook in front of him.

“did i do something wrong?” you asked, frowning.

hearing the hurt in your voice made his chest tighten. the last thing he wanted was for you to think that this was your fault. “no,” he said quickly, too quickly.

“then what is it?” you leaned forward, your eyes narrowing. “you’ve been avoiding me. we don’t hang out anymore, and even if we do, you’re quiet.”

mark hesitated, trying to find the right words. how could he explain that every time you defended him or stood by his side, it made him feel worse? how could he tell you that you being around him was hurting your social life and he couldn’t stand to see people talking about you that way?

“i don’t think you should hang out with me anymore,” mark sighed, his face in his hands. “i’m only ruining your reputation.”

“ruining my reputation?” you paused, looking at him with genuine confusion. “mark, i don’t care about stupid shit like that. i hang out with you because i want to.”

mark gulped, his throat tight as he processed your words. “..i just don’t get why you still want to be friends with me.”

“i’m not going to stop being friends with you because people are talking,” you shook your head. “you’re important to me. i don’t care about them- i care about you.”

the way you said it so casually, like it was obvious, made mark feel a lot better than he thought it would. it wasn’t something that he was used to, and he didn’t know how to respond.

over the next few weeks, the two of you began to hang out again, returning back to your lame jokes, late-night movie marathons and study sessions. it was like nothing had changed, but at the same time, everything felt different. mark was relaxed around you again, but there was still an underlying tension that neither of you acknowledged.

sometimes, you would catch yourself looking at him longer than usual, noticing things you didn’t before - the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, how his hair fell messily over his forehead whenever he explained something to you or how he always shifted his posture when he got nervous.

maybe it was because mark had been there during your breakup, but you knew there was something more than that.

you found yourself thinking about him at random moments, wondering what he was doing or feeling. every time he laughed, warmth would spread through your chest - and you liked the sound a lot more than you’d like to admit, but you weren’t sure why you were feeling this way.

until one night.

it was a particularly long tutoring session and the both of you had been stressed over an exam. once mark finished explaining a difficult question, you leaned back with a sigh of relief.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you grinned.

mark glanced at you before quickly looking away. “you’d do just fine,” he mumbled, clearly flustered by the compliment.

you didn’t know why, but in that moment, it suddenly clicked. the way his face flushed whenever you praised him, how kind he had always been to you, how he was always there when you were down, and how safe you felt around him.

for the first time since your break up, you started to wonder if the person meant for you was in front of your face all along. sure, you didn’t know if the way he acted was because he liked you or it was his social awkwardness shining, but you knew one thing.

you were starting to fall for mark lee.

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you groaned, walking beside mark as you left the exam hall. “i’m definitely failing that.”

mark chuckled, glancing at you with a soft smile. “come on, it wasn’t that bad. we went through some questions like that, right?”

“yeah, but the questions we did were for college students, not astronauts,” you muttered.

mark laughed. “guess we’re intergalactic geniuses.”

“you’re so lame,” you rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help the smile forming on your face. as stressful as the exam was, mark would always try to make things better. he just had that kind of presence, the kind that made everything a little easier to handle.

he looked around for a second, trying to gauge your mood before turning back to you. “so.. movie night?”

“you don’t even need to ask,” you smirked, dragging him over to your dorm before he could say anything.

you kicked off your shoes and immediately threw yourself onto the comfort of your own couch, mark following close behind. he set up the movie without asking what to watch, already knowing your favourite shows by heart.

the weeks after your exams passed in a blur. unsurprisingly, the both of you did well - what else could you expect from someone as smart and focused as mark? his tutoring really paid off, even if it felt like you barely survived the questions.

with the stress of exams gone, you and mark had more free time to try new things. movie nights turned into cafe hopping, and tutoring sessions turned into karaoke. you even had time to get new piercings - on your ears and tongue.

mark was still awkward at times, still shy when you complimented him. but the both of you had gotten really comfortable around each other, talking about random things that happened throughout your day.

it felt like you were seeing him for who he was. it wasn’t just that he was smart or kind, there was something deeper than that - and maybe that was what pulled you to him.

after a long day, the both of you entered your dorm, carrying bags filled with different snacks. you needed more food and mark brought you to a really nice convenient store with chips and sweets you’ve never seen before.

your favourite show played in the background as you sprawled out on the couch, resting your head against the armrest as mark sat at the opposite end, quietly scrolling through his phone.

you looked at him, noticing how he was awkwardly fidgeting, his eyes glanced at you every few seconds before shifting away again. it was almost.. cute how nervous he was.

you moved closer to him, close enough to where your arms brushed against each other, sending a small jolt of electricity up your arms. you could hear the way his breath hitched in his throat as you turned to him.

“mark,” you spoke, your voice soft in the quiet room. “why do you always look away when i get close to you?”

mark’s face turned red, and for a second, he seemed too flustered to speak. “i.. i don’t,” he stammered, his eyes darting to your lips before looking down at his lap. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you just did it,” you chuckled. “am i that ugly to look at?”

“no-“ mark shook his head vigorously, his heart pounding in his ear. “it’s just hard to focus when your so close,” he gulped.

you raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on your face as you shifted closer, your knees touching his. “why’s that?”

mark fidgeted nervously, still not looking at you. “it’s.. i’m not used to being this close with someone,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

you bit your lip, trying to stop the laugh threatening to escape your lips. “well, you should get used to it, mark. i’m not going anywhere.”

his face grew impossibly red, and when he finally looked at you, his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, before he quickly looked away again.

“i don’t think i’ll ever get used to it,” he said, his voice strained. “not when it’s with you.”

you leaned back slightly, your eyes widening in surprise. “what do you mean?”

mark hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before forcing himself to speak. “i mean- you’re not just anyone to me,” he muttered, playing with the edge of shirt.

your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in. while you weren’t sure if he actually liked you, hearing it from him made your chest have a fluttering feeling.

“you’ve been more than just a friend to me for a while now..” he turned to you as he ran his fingers through his hair. “but i never said anything because.. well- you had a boyfriend and i didn’t want to ruin things between us.”

“i..” you whispered. “i thought you were just-“

“-awkward?” mark finished for you, laughing nervously. “yeah, that too.”

you looked at him, a little shocked. the man, who always supported you, taught you, was patient with you, actually liked you? everything was falling into place a lot better that you’d thought.

however, mark took your silence as a sign of rejection, stumbling over his words. “it’s fine if you don’t like me, i just-“

“-mark,” you interrupted, putting your hand on his shoulder. “it’s okay.”

he froze, his eyes meeting yours. for a moment, the two of you stared at each other, the silence growing heavier with each second. the only thing you could hear was the noise from the tv, and even then, it started to fade away.

“have you-“ you took in a deep breath, hesitating before you spoke. “have you ever.. kissed someone before?”

he blinked, his entire body tensing at the question. “i uh- i’ve never..”

“do you want to?”

mark’s breath caught in his throat, and you could see the nervous excitement flash in his eyes. yet, his face flushed with embarrassment as he spoke. “..but i don’t have a lot of experience.”

you giggled softly. “that’s okay,” you whispered, leaning in a little closer, your lips barely inches away from his. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

mark’s heart pounded in his chest, and for a while, he didn’t move. he wanted to - desperately, but what if he messed it up? what if he wasn’t as good as you expected?

but then, in that moment, he realised that this is what he wanted. he wanted you. even if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing, he wanted to try.

“i.. i do,” he whispered.

you smiled, your hands cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. “then let me show you,” you said.

you leaned in, slowly, giving mark all the time in the world to pull away if he wanted. but he didn’t. instead, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours.

it was slow and careful, almost hesitant - but you didn’t rush him. you let him find his rhythm, your lips moving gently against his, guiding him.

the kiss deepened slightly, and mark’s breath hitched as your tongue brushed against his, the cool metal of your piercing surprising him. he let out a small gasp as he pulled back. “you have a-“

“a piercing?” you said, showing your tongue just a bit. “sorry, i forgot to tell you.”

mark blinked, looking at your tongue then back at your eyes. “i- it’s fine.. i just didn’t expect it.”

you smiled, finding his reaction adorable. “want to try again?”

he nodded, this time more eagerly. the second kiss felt different - still gentle, but now he was more curious. his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

the coolness of your piercing made him shiver, but he didn’t move away. instead, he leaned into the kiss, like he wanted to explore more.

there was something sweet and innocent about the way he kissed you, like he was trying to memorise every second, every sensation.

you let out a small hum of approval, running your fingers through his hair, encouraging to relax a little more. you could feel him melting beneath your touch, his shoulders relaxing as your bodies pressed against each other.

you tilted your head slightly, guiding him without pushing. the way his lips moved became more confident as his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

when the both of you pulled back, breathless, mark’s brown eyes were wide - his lips parted as he looked at you like he was still processing everything that just happened, like he couldn’t believe it was real.

“was that better?” you whispered.

mark’s cheeks turned into a bright red, his face warm as he gave a small nod. “y-yeah i think i’m starting to get used to it,” he muttered, glancing at your lips again.

“i’m glad,” you grinned, tracing your thumb against his cheek as your heart fluttered. “cause there’s gonna be a lot more coming.”

his eyes softened, his nervousness fading a little more. “i can’t focus when i’m with you,” he said with a shy laugh.

you tilted your head, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “maybe i’m trying to distract you.”

“well, you’re doing a good job,” he admitted, his words spreading warmth through you. he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was real - that you were here, with him, and not some dream he was about to wake up from.

“…i didn’t know you had a tongue piercing,” he said, his lips still tingling from the kiss.

you laughed softly. “yeah, i got it recently. what do you think?”

“i like it,” mark smiled, resting his hand on top of yours. “a lot,” he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

any and all feedback appreciated <3

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