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#it's my teenage crush and it will never go away
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i know you said a while back that youthink an animated series would be the best medium for a twilight adaptation. well, they're now making an animated series. how do you think it's going to go?
I did say something about that.
The thing is, I'm a deeply cynical person, and I don't want to rain unduly on people's parade. Hey, it might be great, and I'm always hyped for some serious 2D animation because we get it so rarely and it's never taken as seriously as it should be.
We're also getting Midnight Sun, which if there's any sticking to the source material, will be fucking weird.
I would be very happy with a 2D animated American Psycho starring teenage vampires who all sit around the table discussing "okay, but seriously, are we voting to kill a teenage girl for no reason? Please discuss"
That said, personally, @therealvinelle put my thoughts pretty well in this.
At the end of the day, any production's goal is to make money. Especially when huge IP are involved, Netflix has to make good on the investment they made to purchase the rights (no cheap feat there) as well as to make the profit they expect with a well-known IP like this, and the best way to do that is to appeal to as wide an audience as possible.
To appeal to as wide an audience as possible, and this is true of any media, you have to go MCU. You have to have just enough quippy lines that people walk away thinking they liked it without remembering a single line (or if one is remembered it's a bit of a "huh, I guess that was... memorable"), good characters who are appealingly good, bad characters who are just bad enough we don't think about them too hard, and flashy CGI fight scenes that go on forever because that's the only substance to the movie.
And people love MCU because of it. They're rarely ever bad movies (some exceptions) but they're not good movies either. They broadly appeal to a very large audience, no one hates them, some people even love them and think they're the greatest films ever made, and so they will always have a pretty wide audience base.
So, I expect something similar to Twilight.
I expect the art style will be chosen explicitly to be not jarring, the vampires are not going to look weird or even too beautiful either. Every single character, but especially Edward and Bella, will be toned down to be made more palatable while still performing enough of their canon actions to not stray from the book, thus making their actions inexplicable, weird, and jarring but better that than "No, Edward really did mean her blood is his heroin" and "No, I really did fantasize about crushing Mike Newton's head like a melon".
Which is more or less what happened in the movies, actually, so look to them for an example of what I think would likely happen.
Now, I could be wrong, in which case I imagine the poor producers will be breathing in a paper bag wondering what the fuck happened.
But, you asked me what I expect.
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hemmingsleclerc · 7 months
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My Husband ┃CS55
summary: Y/N attends her husband's home race but didn't expect to find the "popular" girl at her high school back in the day.
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The sun was seen over the Barcelona-Catalunya Circuit while the Spanish Grand Prix was taking place. Y/N, dressed in an elegant yet casual dress that perfectly combined glamor and comfort, strolled through the paddock with an air of confidence. Her husband, Carlos, was focused on preparations for the next race, leaving her free to immerse herself in the exciting atmosphere.
As she toured the different garages and hospitality areas, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of nostalgia. The roar of the engines brought back memories of her teenager's years when she would never have imagined being there in the paddock. Yet here she was, the wife of one of the sport's most talented drivers.
The familiar murmur of voices interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see a group of people approaching her. Among them was a face from her past: a girl named Carla, who was once the queen bee of her high school. Carla's eyes widened in false surprise when she saw Y/N there.
"Well, well, if it's not little Y/N," Carla sneered, her tone full of mockery. "What brings you to the Spanish Grand Prix? Trying to catch a glimpse of the rich and famous?"
Y/N smiled, refusing to let Carla's comments get to her. "Oh, you know, I've always been an F1 fan. I thought I'd come and support my husband."
''Husband?, so after all you did get a boyfriend?, what a wonderful surprise!''
''Yes, yes I did Carla'' Y/N responded, avoiding the urge to roll her eyes.
Carla smiled and looked at her boyfriend, who was next to her. "Well, we're here because my boyfriend is a big fan. You probably know him, he was with us at school! In fact, today he met all the drivers. It's a dream come true for him."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, recognizing the familiar pattern of Carla trying to outdo her in any situation. "That's fantastic for him. I'm sure meeting the drivers was an unforgettable experience."
''So, is this your first race?''
''In fact no, I have attended several grand prix, although it's probably your first time, so enjoy it Carla!'' And just as she finished saying those words she turned around and walked away from that irritating situation.
The race came to life and Y/N continued to enjoy the event, doing her best to ignore the presence of her ''wonderful'' former high school classmates.
As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, Y/N once again found herself in the path of Carla and her boyfriend.
"Well, well, you again” Carla said with a forced smile. "Did you have fun watching the race, sweetie?"
Y/N sighed inwardly but maintained her composure. "Yes, it was thrilling. Excuse me, I need to find Carlos."
As she tried to walk away, Carla's boyfriend, Y/N's old crush from high school, stepped forward, trying to strike up a conversation with her. Y/N felt a wave of discomfort but remained polite. All she wanted to do was go to her husband and congratulate him on his incredible podium finish in the race.
Suddenly, the crowd around them buzzed with excitement as Carlos Sainz approached, his red racing suit adorned with sponsor logos. Carla and her boyfriend exchanged surprised glances.
"Carlos Sainz!" Carla exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Y/N couldn't help but smile triumphantly. "Oh, I didn't mention it before? He's Carlos, my husband, sweetie."
Carlos, oblivious to the tension, politely greeted Carla and her boyfriend. When they noticed, Carla's forced smile faltered and Y/N took the opportunity to gracefully exit the conversation. She walked away from her, leaving behind a speechless Carla and a bewildered old lover.
''Thank God you showed up, I couldn't stand them for another minute''
''You okey mi amor?''
''I'll be better after the celebration for your great podium, cariño''
With their heads held high, Y/N and Carlos walked out holding hands, along with the shiny trophy, ready to have a great night.
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logansdoll · 2 months
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Heyyy. Ok really cheesy but I’d like to request a Logan x reader friends to lovers where it’s like an accidental confession. Maybe someone makes fun of the reader and Logan without thinking about it just starts yelling and defending why the reader is great and everything he loves about her? Ik it’s a little OOC but maybe he gets so mad (as Wolverine does) that he gets all mushy without realizing lol. Thanks ❤️❤️
lotus
while on library duty, Logan overhears two girls talking shit about you... and corrects it quickly.
CW: sorry i went in a little different direction, suggestive, profanity, takes place during the timeline of the og X-Men, these girls are bitches, etc.
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"I just don't get what's the big deal about her," Maya scoffed, resting her cheek in her palm as she thoughtlessly flipped through her biology textbook.
Talia nodded, glancing up from her notes with an excitement that screamed nothing to do.
"No, seriously," she agreed. "Like we get it... you can grow shit. Big deal."
That piqued Logan's interest.
With Jean and Scott off on a date, the professor away, and you and Ororo teaching a joint class, he was slapped with library duty—watching the kids during their scheduled study period.
Now, originally, he planned on simply plopping himself down in a corner and puffing his cigar, hoping to fall asleep and just ride out his sentence.
And he was halfway there, too.
But just as he was about to catch some Zs, his hearing picked up on a conversation between two older girls who seemed to be trash talking his girlfriend.
"Word," Maya turned the next page, a grimace settling on her face when she noticed the image of a flower.
One you were very vocal about liking.
"She won't shut up about these stupid lotus flowers either... Hey! Did you guys know that the lotus is considered sacred in many Eastern cultures? And it often symbolizes purity, beauty, and rebirth!"
Talia let out an obnoxious snicker, the impression not nearly as funny as what she was making it to be.
But maybe she just hated you that much...
"You sound just like her," she commended, very much amused. "Only she's always smiling. Like I've never seen her frown before... it's almost creepy."
"Seriously creepy. But Peter can't get enough of it... you know he has a crush on her, right?"
"Seriously?!"
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, tickled by the news.
He'd caught the boy staring at you during a few Danger Room sessions, but didn't think much of it, assuming he'd just caught him while he happened to be looking in your direction.
Oh, how wrong he was...
He couldn't wait to tell you later tonight.
"Mhmm. Half the boys at school nearly fall over themselves to make sure they're not late to her class... It's almost funny."
"Funny, my ass. Why'd it have to be Peter?" Talia huffed, tossing her pencil at the textbook in frustration. "She's not even that pretty. I've had dogs that look better than her."
Maya attempted to muffle a snicker, but Logan heard it loud and clear, his brows furrowing at the horrible comment.
"I'm serious. She puts up this whole nice and innocent act, but I bet she's a raging bitch behind closed doors."
That was it.
All the stuff before was just normal, teenage jealousy; something he'd—albeit reluctantly—let slide.
But calling you out of your name?
Insulting your character?
Comparing you to a dog?
A line had to be drawn.
"Tali, you can't say that," Maya chuckled, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
"Like I care," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'd tell it to her face if I ever got the chance. Just walk right up to her and say—"
"Say what?"
The girls nearly jumped out their skin, whipping around, only to be met by Logan's arched brow, the man leaning up against a bookshelf as he puffed on his cigar.
They were at a loss for words, unable to say anything under his imposing presence.
"Don't get shy now," he goaded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on. Tell me what you're gonna say to Dr. (l/n)."
The two were practically frozen, frantically glancing at each other for assistance, Logan's eyes flicking between the two expectantly.
"Nothing?" he hummed. "That's funny... 'cause you both seemed to have plenty of shit to say earlier."
Both their faces fell almost instantly, the color practically draining from Talia.
"You heard that?" Maya squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Every word," Logan nodded. "And what I managed to gather from it was that you both just can't stand her because she's kind, passionate, pretty, and beloved."
He listed each trait off on his fingers, glancing at the two for confirmation.
"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"
They remained silent, hanging their heads in embarrassment as Logan's confrontation had garnered the attention of the whole library.
"Well, then, how's this..." he pulled the cigar out his mouth. "I'll let you both off this time with a warning... but if I catch either of you trash talkin' anybody again, teacher or student, you're grounded."
"'Til when?" Talia asked, nervously.
"'Til I tell you you're not."
The end of day bell punctuated his statement, a flourish of shutting books and closing pencil cases muffling the girls' sighs of relief.
"Now get outta here."
He had never seen two students pack up so fast.
They were gone in T-minus ten, and once the library was cleared out, Logan allowed himself to sit down, letting out his own sigh.
He could've tore into them infinitely worse—and he honestly wanted to for that dog comment—but he figured that was the right, and legal, amount for a teacher.
But even still...
'I dunno how a girl who can only float two inches off the ground is talkin' about (n/n) havin' a shitty power...'
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auroralwriting · 2 months
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his little finger
spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader
part two here
spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.
warnings: reader has a hot temper? is that a warning? | words: 1k short but sweet!
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You were known to have a confident personality. You never let anyone shake you, that's why the team loved you so much. You were the sole, beating heart of Aaron Hotchner's team; you never let them give up. Not only, but you were kind of a badass. You knew how to profile amazingly, and you could hold your own if an unsub got a little too rough.
Something else you were known for? A hot temper.
Okay, maybe it could go a little bad sometimes, but you truly meant well. Like that time you accidentally made a teenage boy cry. To be fair, he was a potential unsub. He actually was the unsub, so not all was a total failure.
Today was different for you. The coffee shop you frequented before work was closed due to issues with the electrical systems. That put a chip in your day. How was one to thrive without coffee? Next, you forgot your badge at home, making you late for work since you had to retrieve it to even get into the building. That put a dent in your day.
Derek was known to be a funny guy. Not the kind of funny guy you'd actually laugh at, but the kind who kind of pissed you off sometimes. Yeah, that kind. While he meant well at heart, it just royally pissed you off. You couldn't help that!
You leaned your elbows on the table, listening to the coffee pour into your cup. "Hello my little fox," Penelope greeted, her face frowning when she saw the look on yours. "What's wrong?"
"Bad day so far," You muttered. "Everything's just going wrong."
"It's only seven," Derek said as he walked in, smile on his face. "Come on, sugar. Go on and sit down at your desk. I know how you like your coffee." You thanked Derek quickly as you went to your desk. It was right next to Spencer.
Oh, Spencer. The boy who fell hard for you, who made you fall for him. Neither of you knew that, though, your crushes remaining secret still. "Y/n," Spencer frowned, "what's wrong?"
"It's alright, Spence," You forced a small, pathetic smile. "Just a bad morning."
Spencer gave you a half smile, "Positive attitudes actually give you a higher likelihood of having a better day by ten to thirty percent," Spencer rambled, "and that actually is the same for social connections, being a twenty to forty percent. You're on the right track."
You loved Spencer's rambles. They were adorable. "Thanks, Spence." You smiled.
A few minutes later, Morgan came to your desk with your coffee in hand. "For you, sugar." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. You quickly took a generous sip.
It left your lips quicker than it entered. You spit it out into the trash can next to your dest, face turning sour at the taste. It was so bitter, so salty. "What the hell, Morgan?!" You cried out, "What is this?"
"Salt, sugar." He teased.
Your face turned hot, "How old are you, six?" His face slowly fell as you became angrier, "Genuinely, how old are you? Because last I checked, children don't have jobs."
"Hey," Derek tried to calm you down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to actually upset you."
"Oh, of course you didn't!" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your lips. "You just don't get when people don't want you to make them feel worse!"
Derek's face fell into a frown. You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but you couldn't stop your words. "Y/n," Spencer said firmly, "Sit down, now."
Before you could even think, you followed his command. The whole event caught Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and JJ's attention. JJ was quick to rush over, grabbing your coffee. "I'll get you the right one, it's okay." She comforted as Emily quickly lead Derek away. Rossi and Garcia decided to mind their own business, smart.
You groaned, head in your hands. Spencer was quick to kneel by you, taking your hands into his own. "Y/n," He said softly, "Take a deep breath. I know, I know." You followed his instructions, inhaling and holding it like he demonstrated, softly letting it out after. "Good job, sweetheart, do it again for me, okay?"
After a few more times, your face cooled off. You closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."
"I know, he knows, too." Spencer assured. "He knows he was out of line. You reacted the same way anyone would. It's alright."
Spencer raised his hand to your face, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb. JJ walked over, unsure if she was ruining.. something?
"Hey, I got you your coffee," She hesitantly spoke. You looked up, reaching out quickly.
"Thanks," You mumbled, taking a cautious sip. When you realized the taste was right, you took a bigger sip, sighing at the warmth flooding down your throat.
Spencer gave you a small smile, "See? It's okay now."
You nodded with a smile, thanking him softly. He went back to his desk, re-opening his report. You did the same, clicking your pen open.
"Okay, now what the hell was that?" Derek asked, the previous team members crowding around Rossi's desk.
"I felt like I was walking in on them," JJ mumbled awkwardly. "The tension was so strong I thought it was gonna slice me clean in half."
Emily smiled, "I bet they're in love or something, only love can make a person react like that. She would've bitten anyone else's head off." Everyone mumbled in agreement.
"I bet two weeks," Rossi said after a moment.
"Nah, knowing Reid, it's gotta be more like three." Derek shook his head.
Emily laughed, "I bet a week and a half. Y/n's too badass to not admit it first."
"I don't think they ever will until we do for them." Penelope sighed, knowing how stubborn both individuals were.
"I say one week, solid." JJ nodded. "I felt that tension."
Hotch's voice came out of nowhere, "Four days."
Everyone turned around, shocked. "Hotch, you sure about that?" Derek asked, a slight tease in his voice. "You know them."
"I do," He nodded, "Four days. You'll see I'm right."
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months
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tell me again that you hate me
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a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.
summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 
warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy
word count: 5153
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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.
You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 
Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 
It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 
Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 
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The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.
Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 
Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.
Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 
“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”
“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 
“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”
“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”
“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”
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The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.
Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 
When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 
But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 
However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 
It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 
“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”
His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 
“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 
“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 
“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”
“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 
That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 
“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 
“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”
As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 
When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 
“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.
Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 
“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 
Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 
“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”
“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 
“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”
“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 
“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”
“Not particularly...”
As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 
“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 
Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 
Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 
“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”
“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”
“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 
“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 
Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”
“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”
Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 
Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 
He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 
“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”
As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”
But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.
“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.
It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 
A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  
Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?
It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 
“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.
Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 
He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 
“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”
Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 
Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 
“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.
When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 
One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 
Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 
You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 
“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 
A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 
“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”
“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 
“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”
Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 
“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 
“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 
“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 
When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 
Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.
“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 
Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 
“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  
A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 
“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”
A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 
As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 
“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.
Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 
“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”
You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.
“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”
“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 
It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 
“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 
Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 
Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 
You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.
As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 
Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 
“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”
“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”
You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 
“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 
Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”
“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”
“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 
“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”
“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 
“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 
“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 
“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”
“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 
“Say that you’re my little slut.”
“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”
Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 
One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.
“I hate you.”
“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.
“I hate you.”
“Keep going, princess.” 
And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 
Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 
When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.
“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”
“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 
And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 
Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”
You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 
“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 
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“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”
“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”
Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…
When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.
“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”
“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 
Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 
Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.
Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 
You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 
“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”
Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 
“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 
“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”
“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”
“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”
Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 
“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 
You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 
“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 
“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”
Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 
“You do look hot in normal clothes.”
“I don’t think any of this is normal…”
“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 
“Rafe…” you breathed. 
His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
3K notes · View notes
jaylver · 6 months
Text
WEBS OF HURT — S.JY
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synopsis: Falling for your best friend wasn't on your check list for high school. As if that wasn't enough to break your heart, his odd behaviour only added fuel to the fire along with a new crush of his. Who knew that odd behaviour would soon turn into a secret truth that you'd discover after his valiant effort of hiding.
pairings: spiderman!jake x afab!reader
genre: best friends to lovers, unrequited love, miscommunications, spiderman au, angst, romance, fluff
warning(s): profanities, mentions of alcohol, party, violence, injury
wc: 10k
a/n: tried something new! a little birthday gift from me <3 please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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Falling in love with your guy best friend was probably the worst thing ever to experience when it came to girlhood.
High school should be fun, right? Being a teenager should be fun, right? Well, that wasn't exactly the case when you found yourself feeling more than just a mere liking towards Jake Sim, the guy best friend you mentioned and was entirely, love sickeningly, in love with. 
Jake Sim was the first guy you actually built a solid friendship with. It first started when he sat beside you in calculus, then you realised you had more classes with him and a friendship eventually developed when you started acknowledging each other. One class together soon turned into years spent with one another. You knew his family and he knew yours. Nothing could ever break the bond between you and him.
You just couldn't help but notice a slight change in him after the death of his uncle, Ben. At first, you figured it might've been grief, trying your best to offer your utmost support. But as months flew by, the oddness persisted. He would disappear in between classes, sometimes standing you up at places you were at together and returning a little scathed, making it up to you by promising for a redo hang out. All of that was weird. Let's not get started on the fact he caught your stuff falling way too many times, even when his head was faced away, his hand would reach out first. In his words, he called it his 'spidey sense', whatever that meant.
However, you never doubted him. He was still the best friend you had, even if he had some tweaks to him. You never once questioned him or brought up your suspicions, but this time, you couldn't help yourself from bombarding him with questions when he broke the news to you.
"I think I have a crush," Jake announced the moment he was in your presence, sounding a little out of breath considering he made a run to the cafeteria. The tray of food was untouched, quite unlike him since he always dug into his food first.
"You 'think'?" You hummed, ignoring the mixed feelings you had blaring loudly. 
"Okay, I know I have a crush," he has yet to start eating, just staring expectantly at you, eyebrows furrowed at the nonchalant and dismissiveness in your tone. 
"You're being for real?" You finally turned your head to meet his eyes, placing your fork down. 
"I am! I think it's kinda crazy," his eyes twinkled, something quite rare but only you knew, like a comet in the sky. 
"Who is it?"
"Gwen,"
"Gwen? Gwen Stacy?" You swallowed back a frown that was itching to make its way to your lips, masking it with your best shot of shock instead of disappointment. Of course it was the golden girl, what a cliche plot.
He nodded, a small smile rested on his face as he started digging into his food. "We … talked? Talked about some science things, about Oscorp, about the things she's working on. Oh yeah, she said there's this party on Saturday and wondered if I wanted to go, I said I wanted to bring a friend and she's cool with it,"
"I assume I'm that friend, then?" You poked at your food, suddenly losing your appetite as the conversation progressed.
"No, it's Carlos—of course it's you, dumbass," he flicked at your forehead, earning a firm scowl from you. "You're my best friend, my only ever, I'd be insane to think otherwise,"
You chewed at your lips, not because you were contemplating whether you should or shouldn't go, but it was mainly due to the word 'best friend' that got your attention. There goes your hope down the drain. First, being told your best friend who you have a crush on already has his eyes on someone else, then, getting friendzoned by that same exact guy, all in one shot. It's brutal out here.
"So what do you say?" Jake's voice broke the momentary silence, noticing your dazed expression. You snapped out of it almost immediately.
"I'll go,"
"Really?"
"Do you want me to say no instead …?" You raised an eyebrow, watching him scrambling at your words.
"N–no! I'm just shocked and very glad you agreed to come," he managed a laugh, which turned into a smile. 
"Am I going to get ditched that night because you want to get your dick wet?"
Jake scrunched his face up in a look of disgust. "Can you not? I don't need you to say that. And no, I'm not going to ditch you,"
"I'm holding you to it."
Jake shot you a wink, earning a figuratively loud eye roll from you. His laughter filled your ears, and though you managed a smile, you found yourself feeling the opposite internally. You knew you shouldn't feel this way, it's not like you were even in a relationship with him in the first place. But God, why did it hurt so bad?
Who told you friends to lovers was cool when it was unrequited and one sided all along.
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"You know, you look good either way,"
Jake Sim was sitting on the edge of your bed watching you put on makeup and getting ready. It was a few hours before the party and Jake had turned up looking nervous, wearing that lucky graphic tee of his that you recognised quickly. Your teasing definitely didn't make him smile, and you soon realised that the crush he had was actually serious.
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow despite feeling the giddiness from the effects of his nonchalant words. He has to stop that. "Are you trying to butter me up to get me to move quicker?"
"Whaaat? No way. You genuinely look good whether or not you have makeup on, seriously," he was genuine, you could tell, but you knew him better than anything. It was quite a fatal flaw.
"Give me ten minutes to finish the other eye then we can leave."
At that, Jake sighed in relief and fell back onto your bed, kicking his legs patiently. He couldn't stop talking about the party and the people who'd be there, but honestly, you could tell he was just trying to not bring up Gwen at any given moment. Knowing that, you wished the mascara wand would just poke into your eye, maybe it'd hurt less compared to how your heart felt.
"Does my shirt look lame—"
"Dude, shut up," just before you and Jake entered the house, he was asking for another reassurance. First, it was his hair, then his shoes, and every other piece of clothing, leaving his shirt for last. It took everything in you to not punch him along the way there. "I swear, no one will care. If anything, isn't that your lucky shirt?"
"It is my lucky shirt. But whether or not that lucky shirt looks good, that's the case," he glanced down at his graphic shirt, a picture of a rock band from the 2000s staring back at him.
"Trust me, if it's ugly, I would've asked you to change, now shut up and get your ass in there before I leave you here," you huffed and continued walking, hearing him mutter something before catching up with you. 
Upon entering the house, you figured it was as underwhelming as you expected. The smell of sweat and flavoured smoke filled the air, high school students lingered around as the music blasted. You should've probably stayed home.
"So, you got your pick up lines ready?" You thrusted a cup of fruit punch into his hands, tilting your head in question. 
Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid Google has failed me on that one," he looked around the room, shoulders tense.
"Calm down, big guy. You're acting like you're being hunted down. She's not that scary," you patted his shoulders as he took a swig out of his cup.
"Not scary? Says the one without a crush,"
How ironic.
You brushed it off, finding yourself taking a big gulp as well. He was oblivious and you were just stupid. Stupidly in love with your best friend who has his eyes set on another girl. Perfect.
"I think I see her," you followed his line of sight, spotting a blonde in the midst of the crowd almost immediately. She made her way through, parting the mass with a certain grace to her aura. 
Jake looked back at you, a mix of conflict written in his features. You read him well, too well. You offered a smile. "Go, go talk to her. Just text me when you're leaving, okay? You said you're not going to ditch me,"
"I won't," he laughed, but there was a certainty in his tone. 
"Then go, what are you waiting for? I'm expecting a whole loads of information by the end of the night," you gave him a slight push, but you could see the small reluctance he had. "Go!" Off he went into the crowds and gravitated towards her. 
You couldn't bear to witness it all, watching him leaning down as she laughed into his ear. The feeling of bitter jealously coursed through your veins, it was evil, so evil, but you couldn't help it. At the end, you had to remind yourself, he wasn't yours in the first place. He wasn't yours to lose.
Turning your back to them, you sat alone in a stranger's kitchen and fought off the temptation of getting drunk. Instead, you indulged in the leftover pizzas left on the counter, letting a random girl join you and overshare secrets. Wallowing in self pity was probably not what you had in store for the night.
Almost as fast as you had arrived, it was already past midnight in a blink of an eye. You realised your curfew was around the corner and it was time to signal Jake to leave too. Glancing at your phone, you were surprised to see zero messages from your best friend. Weird.
You stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing a bunch of people passed out at the oddest spots, only a few still awake. One of them was surprisingly Gwen, the goody two shoes you had in mind was actually staying up past your curfew. You heaved a distressed yet exasperated sigh, walking towards her. 
"Hey, Gwen," you hoped she remembered you, considering you were in the same Chemistry class as her.
"Oh, hey. Y/N, right?" She flashed you a sweet smile, and it was painful to know how likeable and nice she was. You couldn't even bring yourself to hate her. 
"Right. Sorry for interrupting, but have you seen Jake around? The last time I saw him was with you," you unknowingly chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, taking the frown on her lips as a bad sign.
"He left," that was the least expected thing you anticipated as a response.
"He … left?" You repeated incredulously, almost as if she hadn't made it clear enough for you.
"Yeah, he suddenly said he needed to leave … in the middle of our conversation. An emergency or something. Kinda weird but kinda cute," she laughed, but you were holding back a disdainful scowl, reserved for both Jake and her, but most specifically Jake Sim. "Why? Were you with him?"
You bit back an immediate reply. As much as you wanted to say 'yes', you didn't want to blow off his chance either. "No, just … checking. He said he was coming tonight,"
"Oh, I see," 
"Yeah," you nodded rather stiffly and awkwardly. "I'll get going now, thanks,"
"See ya, Y/N. Until our next class," she gave you a salute, a melodious laugh escaping her lips.
You couldn't resist a smile either, saluting her back. There was a charm to her that affected people, it was understandable that Jake was charmed, but you hated to know that, and you did not want to understand it. For now, he was dead to you, just like how he has left you to yourself in the middle of a party at midnight. Was he Cinderella? Glad to know you weren't the only one who he pulled the disappearing act on. 
Clutching onto your jacket tight, you cursed every cuss words there were under your breath, all of which were dedicated to Jake. He had the audacity to leave without even leaving you a text, and that got you walking home in the dangerous night of New York City. Thanks a fucking lot. To say you were seething was an understatement.
You hated the streets of New York especially at night. To prove your hatred further, you just had to be at threat of an armed robbery there and then. 
"Hey! You there!" A dark figure approached from a distance, pointing at you. Oh God. "Got some money on you?" This couldn't be happening. 
"N–no," you said quietly, backing up quickly. His footsteps thundered loudly against the pavement, seemingly getting closer. 
"Don't lie, I see that purse on you,"
"I'm a broke high school student, leave me alone!" Was it sad to say that you were yelling the brutal truth to him?
"I don't care. Give me your purse—" his threat almost had you running in the opposite direction, but his sentence was never finished. Instead, a sharp unfamiliar noise shot through the silence, and a second figure in the distance appeared. That wasn't his partner, right?
Panic coursed through you, and yelling out was most likely the worst idea you had in ages. "Hello?" 
Silence. 
"Hello? Can I leave now?" 
"Yeah, you can," the figure walked under the lamp post, revealing himself. 
Spiderman? 
Clad in red and a mask over his head, he stepped towards you ever so casually, whereas you stood there absolutely stunned to even move. It wasn't an everyday occurance where you could personally meet the hero in flesh. The media might've painted him as some criminal, but to you and many other citizens, you knew that wasn't the truth.
"Spiderman," you greeted, anxiety lowered knowing you weren't getting robbed now. "Thanks for—that," you waved in the direction of where the man originally was.
"No worries," you noticed his voice seemed familiar, but before you could think more about it, he spoke with a sudden deeper octave. "It's—uh—not safe out here. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Well, for starters, my friend left me at a party that we were supposed to leave together without telling me, and now I'm walking home alone, until I almost got robbed," it was clear that anger and bitterness laced your voice, a deep frown etched on your face as you told Spiderman your concerns.
"Sorry," his voice became lighter, somehow sincere, which made you tilt your head in question. "I–I mean, sorry that he did that to you," he cleared his throat, straightening his spine and returning back to that deep voice. 
"I don't know what's up with him. He could've left me a text," 
He muttered something inaudible under his breath, then turned his focus back on you. "I'm sure he's very sorry, and maybe he's got a reason too. Try hearing him out,"
"I will. I always do. I'm just hurt, it's complicated," 
"What? What do you mean complicated?"
You shrugged, hugging your purse close to your chest. "It's nothing. I don't think Spiderman will be interested in my matters with my best friend. I'll leave you to your hero stuff and head home now. Thanks for saving me and the 20 dollars in my wallet,"
"Well—I—wait," before you could fully turn around and leave, his hand landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Let me walk you home. It's not safe,"
"Wouldn't it be weird if I turned up at my apartment lobby with Spiderman?" You crossed your arm, making quite a fair point. 
"You're right. What about I give you a swing?"
"What?"
Swinging around New York City was definitely an unforgettable but scary experience. You clung onto Spiderman, screaming like a madwoman as he had his arm wrapped around your waist. The touch was as familiar as his voice, hard to put a finger on but almost feeling like you've known him for years. 
You were about to point out your apartment but he had already beat you to it, not even needing you to tell you which floor or window it was, landing on the fire escape right in front of your bedroom window. That just further proved your familiarity towards him. 
He pulled your window open, signalling you to head in, but you were stuck staring at him, both in shock from the swing and the way he knew your place. 
"How did you—"
"Bye! Goodnight!"
You watched as he avoided your question and shot a web out to swing to some other building, leaving you stunned. How were you going to recover from this?
10/10 experience. Spiderman might just be your casual crush to get away from the thoughts of Jake. 
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'BREAKING NEWS: bank robbery in downtown last night caused a chaotic and frantic disturbance, luckily, Spiderman was there to save the day and catch the robbers before anything major happened. Is he really as bad as they make him to be?'
The news of Spiderman saving a bank from a robbery right before your personal near robbery experience had you amused. The videos of him beating up the robbers and using his webs to tie them up were going viral all over the internet, even people in school were talking about it.
You were standing at your locker, digging for some textbooks before class started when Jake Sim himself appeared beside you. His presence was announced before he even spoke, but you didn't bother to spare him a glance.
"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night," he was heaving in breaths, as if he had ran across the school to find you, maybe he did.
"Oh, were you?" You clicked your tongue, suddenly finding the random piece of paper in your locker fascinating. 
"I am. Seriously, Y/N. I know I'm an asshole for that, I'm sorry for not texting you earlier and letting you know—"
"Jake, this isn't the first time you bailed on me," you cut him off, slamming your locker door close and turning to face him. The bruise beside his right eye caught your attention, and suddenly, your anger seemed to have sizzled away. "What the hell happened to your eye?"
It has become a common practice by now apparently. Jake disappearing and turning up with some kind of injury. Like always, he just brushed you off. "It's nothing, don't worry. It's not about me, it's about you. I fucked up this time and I know it, I'm sorry. An emergency with Aunt May came up a–and I had to go home early, I was too caught up in the moment to let you know. I'm sorry, really,"
You considered his apology for a moment. He was sincere, you knew that, but there was a certain dishonesty to his explanation. However, you didn't want to press on further either. "I understand. You probably always have a reason, it's just that I hate it when you disappear on me without telling me. I almost got robbed last night!"
It took him almost a few seconds to register, then another few more to compute a reaction. "What? Are you okay?"
"I'm standing here, aren't I? Spiderman saved my ass," 
"Spiderman?"
"Yeah, Spiderman. That guy who swings around New York. He saved me from some guy that was about rob me, because someone over here decided to leave early,"
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just glad you're alright," 
"Well, thank fuck I am," you crossed your arms, staring pointedly at Jake. 
He dug something out of his backpack, a paper bag of some sort materialized in his hand. "I got you some of your favourite cookies and donuts. As a form of apology,"
You took the bag from him, glancing between him and it. "You can't just buy your way into an apology,"
"You accepted it, you took the bag," 
You rolled your eyes, unable to bite back. "Whatever," you reached in for a cookie and started walking away from your locker, hearing Jake scurrying to join your side.
"So, we're cool?"
You took a brief glance at him, taking a bite out of your cookie. "We are,"
Jake wasn't fully convinced, however. He knew you and your patterns, and he definitely knew which tricks to pull to make it better. "How about I treat you to some Chinese food tonight?"
That piqued your interest, an eyebrow raised at his question. "The one downtown?"
"That one,"
"You sure know how to get on my good side, Sim," you nudged his side, falling into one of his tricks once again. "Too well,"
"I know my ways to get to your heart, don't underestimate me," he said in a lighthearted tone, but God, you wished he would actually find his way into your heart. "Anyway, how was—uh—Spiderman, last night? Excusing your near robbery experience," he winced at the last part, though in reality, the accident hadn't shaken you as much as he had thought.
"He was nice! A little awkward but I kinda get it. He swung me back to my place, which was weird because he knew which window and level it was," you pursed your lips in deep thought, failed to realise the widened eyes from Jake and the panic that filled them.
"M–maybe, it was a wild guess," he said shakily.
"Wild guess? Don't bullshit me, Sim. A smart guy like you would know it's hard to do so," you waved him off, continuing to venture into your theories.
"Maybe he has some kind of sixth sense," he laughed rather stiffly, earning a suspicious narrowed stare from you. 
"Okay, big head, quit acting so weird. Let's just get calculus over with and then stop by that ice cream place after school, what do you say?" 
Jake's shoulders visibly relaxed, a sense of relief overtook his features. What was that about? "Sure. My treat,"
"God, Sim, you have to stop treating me or else I'll fall in love with you," you joked, even as it came out lighthearted, it was filled with a painful truth that you kept as a secret.
"Then fall in love with me."
You froze, almost unblinking. Something so intimate yet controversial had left his lips like it was nothing. It was probably nothing to him, maybe a mere joke even, considering how he let out a small laugh and smiled at your reaction. You tried to pretend it was nothing, but it wasn't nothing, not to you. 
For a second, you wished you weren't already in love with Jake.
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Trying to be happy for your best friend shouldn't be hard, but why were you struggling with it so much?
First, you were literally in love with him. Yes, you've come to the conclusion that you 'L' word him, the big 'L'. Seeing him list out the things Gwen likes and hates reminded you of yourself knowing him equally that much too, which only pained you more than it reassured you. Second, he has been hanging out with her more. Not that you were completely friendless and have no one to hang with, but Jake was Jake, he was your best friend, and losing your best friend was the worst thing to happen. 
You didn't lose him, no, but it felt like you had. He barely made time for you, being caught up with Gwen, dates and school work, how could he not manage to squeeze you in there? You've always made time for him no matter what the occasion was, so knowing he didn't do the same for you just had you dying internally. 
It was a quiet evening in New York. The sun had just set and you were walking home from grabbing an early dinner alone. This time around, you were smarter than the previous round. Armed with pepper spray and a pocket knife, you prayed on a shooting star that an unfortunate incident would never ever happen once more. 
You were practically in your own world to even realise or hear footsteps approaching you from behind. By the time you did, your fight or flight mode was activated, almost throwing out a punch, just to freeze upon figuring out who it actually was. Spiderman.
"Walking home alone?" He kept up with your pace as you recovered from a momentary fright.
"Stalking me?" You wondered how he even spotted you in the first place. In the big city of New York, he's coincidentally strolling down the same street as you? As if. "Scared me, you know? Thought it was another round of getting robbed,"
"I'd be there to fight them off if that happens," he said with utmost confidence that it had you laughing a little, shaking your head in disbelief. Why did he remind you of Jake? It's a sign you should stop thinking so much about him.
"Really? I kinda doubt it. Unless you're keeping an eye on me or something, stalker," you teased him, egging him on further. 
"I'm not stalking you," his tone gave away the withering confidence of his. You smiled, feeling his lingering gaze on your face. Maybe it was just your mind that's overthinking, but his mannerisms reminded you too much of your best friend. It was in the way he walked, talked and how he normally did this thing where he walked with you and cast glances at you from time to time. Every little detail that you wished you couldn't list out was a part of the city's hero. 
He cleared his throat, straightening his back, trying to rebuild that confidence he originally carried. "So … how are things between you and your friend?"
"The one that stood me up at the party?"
He choked a little, but regardless, he nodded his head. "Y–yeah,"
You couldn't hold in a sigh from escaping your lips. Just thinking about Jake had you huffing in frustration. Spiderman picked up on it, shifting slightly beside you. "I guess not … good? Haven't seen him much and he hasn't been bothering to hang out with me anymore. I mean, I get he's making moves but why can't he just manage a little time for me? Maybe I'm too selfish but—" he's not mine anyway. You bite your tongue, holding back what you really wanted to say. 
The hero beside you was silent for a bit, as if walking on eggshells and picking the best words to say. "I think he'd come around," he said slowly, "he'd say a couple of sorrys, and you should tell him what's on your mind. Let him know. He'll understand," 
You chewed on your bottom lips, considering the possibilities, but totally also not expecting to get advice from the Spiderman like it was some counselling session. "I know he'll listen. He always does. But I don't want anything to change between us,"
"Nothing will change," he said with a kind of certainty that even you didn't doubt. How did he know? Who was he to judge? You didn't say anything, but just nodded. You knew Jake wasn't the type to argue nor take your words lightly, but you shudder at the thought of a confrontation, not that it was your first with him, but it felt much more emotional this time.
"I hope so. I miss him—oh, my place is around the corner, I can manage myself," you stopped before a turn around the corner, Spiderman following suit. 
Standing before him only increased your curiosity about his identity. Who was he? He was hiding under a mask that shielded his face, but something about him seemed less foreign than expected. 
"O–oh, then I guess I should get away too. Swing around the city and see whose ass to beat," he laughed awkwardly, a hand automatically reaching for the back of his neck, just like something Jake would do too. You shook that thought away. "Goodnight … stranger,"
"It's Y/N," you didn't hesitate to tell him your name, he saved your life, a little information about yourself wouldn't hurt despite him being a total stranger still. "Goodnight, spider boy."
You turned around the corner, leaving the hero standing there, bewildered and helpless. It was hard to ignore the pit in your stomach that carved deeper and deeper. He reminded you too much of your best friend, and strangely, that was probably the reason why you felt gradually attached to him, a stranger that resembled the ghost of a guy you liked but couldn't have. 
The space of your apartment was dark and soulless once you stepped into it. Your parents worked late as always, meaning you were alone most of the time, and this was one of them. Maybe it was the atmosphere and the countless wishful thinking, but a sense of despair knocked on the door of your heart. 
By the end of the night, you laid awake in bed thinking about what Spiderman had said. Nothing will change. That was exactly what you wished for too, that your dynamic with Jake was never to change, but how was that to happen when he's got a girl around? Eventually, you're not just going to lose the guy you loved, but your best friend as a whole.
Your train wreck of thoughts were interrupted the moment you heard a knock on your window. That knock turned into a tune that you knew too well. Sitting up straight in bed, you spotted the figure standing by your window out on the fire escape. Jake. 
At this point, you weren't even going to figure out how he got up this high on the fire escape. It was one too many times of him avoiding your question and you ended up dropping the matter too. Yet, curiosity itched your mind. 
Unamused at the fact that he turned up at possibly the wrong timing, you dragged your legs over to the window, meeting his bashful gaze. He offered a crooked grin, but your narrowed eyes only shot it back into a frown.
"Explain to me why you're here? It's midnight, Aunt May would be worried about you," your window was opened now, but you stood in the way before he could climb through, an interrogative look of yours stared at him accusingly.
"I told her I'd be over at yours," he answered cheekily. "Just like the old times, eh?"
Judging from your unbudging stance and eyes practically shooting lazers, Jake knew he had struck a nerve that have been left untreated for far too long. He sighed a defeated breath, squeezing through forcefully and dropping his backpack onto the ground. 
"I know," he didn't need to say much, yet he conveyed more than needed. "I've been a shitty best friend,"
It was your turn to sigh. You shook your head, averted your gaze to the ground and stepped aside, giving him more space. "You know a 'sorry' alone won't cut it this time,"
He followed your every movement, joining you to sit on the edge of your bed, a small space in between separated you and him. "I know. But I really am sorry, Y/N. I mean it,"
"I just want you to be honest with me, Jake. I know you're busy, I know you're trying to get the girl of your dreams or whatever, good for you, but it feels like you've forgotten about me or something,"
"I didn't forget about you. How could I ever?"
"Well, then stop acting like it! A text would suffice," you stood up, back facing him just so you could hide your face from him and the tears welling up in your eyes. 
"Y/N," he grabbed a hold of your wrist, cold fingers wrapped around your skin, his touch ever so gentle. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up … many times, and a single 'sorry' wouldn't make up all the hurt I caused you, b–but there's a reason why,"
"What is it then?" You whirled around to face him, the dark of the room casted a shadow over his face, bringing out the fatigue and injury on his delicate features. "What the fuck, Jake? Are you hurt again?"
"It's nothing,"
"You said it's nothing every time you turned up hurt, and I never ask many questions, but Jake, it feels like you're hiding something from me," your hand reached up for his face, hovering over the bruises and mild cuts on his lips and skin. "I don't know you anymore,"
Jake moved his face away a little, grabbing that hand of yours which hovered over his face, lacing his fingers into yours, the rough surface of skin contrasting your soft touch. "I–I wish I could tell you what it is right now, Y/N, I really do, but it's not the right time. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe me, I don't want to hurt you,"
There was a moment of silence where you stood before him, hands intertwined with his, your hurtful gaze scanning his every feature that you knew too well. Jake never lied to you, you knew that, but why couldn't you fully trust him this time? There was a sense of truth and lie hidden behind his words, but you knew one thing, he was genuine. Yet, it wasn't enough. 
"Let me make it up to you. There's this carnival in the city tomorrow night, you and I, hang out, what do you say?" He tried offering a smile, which eventually turned uncertain. "We can spend the entire day together. Just you and me,"
"No bailing on me this time?"
"Promise,"
"You do?"
He held up your interlocked hands, then intertwined your's and his pinky fingers together, something you and him always did when it came to serious promises despite the childishness to the whole pinky promises thing. "Promise," he repeated. 
"I believe you, Jake. I always do, and I just don't want you to get yourself in danger, whatever it is that you're doing. Whenever you turn up bruised and beaten, I–I just feel helpless, and you push me away every time,"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, taking your interlocked hands and placing them on his chest, near to where his heart resided. "I promise to tell you the truth soon. I just need to be ready,"
"When you're ready," you gave his hand an affirming squeeze, a reassuring smile creeping up onto your lips. "Do you want to stay over?"
"I didn't turn up with a packed bag for nothing," he laughed, the air lightening up much more compared to earlier. "I'll sleep on the ground like always,"
Once you were done manoeuvring and setting up the sleeping bag for Jake, you were finally in bed for the second time that night, except now, you had Jake sleeping on the ground beside your bed. It wasn't a rare occasion having him sleep over, just maybe this time it was a tad bit more awkward given the situation you had earlier. 
"Jake," you spoke into the darkness, your eyes trained on that one spot on your ceiling. 
He hummed back in response. 
"Nothing has changed between us, right?"
A beat of silence, the whirring of your A/C was what remained. Then, he spoke. "No. Nothing's ever going to change. Nothing will change," 
It sounded familiar, the way he said it and the enunciation he had in every word. You shook it off, given the late night and a mushy brain, you didn't give it a second thought. 
"I'm glad. Goodnight, Jake."
"Goodnight."
Despite the reassurance from Jake, you descended into sleep with a pit in your gut. You could barely sleep with him next to you, thinking you could find a cure to every trouble that existed between you and him to fix it all. How could he say there'd be no changes when there's a bigger crack forming on your heart?
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The next morning was like any other whenever Jake stayed over. An empty kitchen that allowed you to make some simple breakfast and after, you bid Jake goodbye for the moment before meeting him later on that day. 
Upon stepping into your room, you spotted a black lump sitting under the window. It was Jake's backpack. He was already long gone from your apartment by then. 
You advanced towards his backpack, held it up to move it somewhere else, but it only caused the contents inside to spill out. Knowing how clumsy Jake always was, you figured his backpack had been unzipped the entire time.
You glanced at the pile of mess littered on your floor, a clump of red catching your eyes amongst the rest. Curiosity got the best of you despite knowing you shouldn't pry, but the moment your fingers made contact with it, the question marks in your head increased by tenfold.
Spandex material. You pinched it at first, feeling the material against your skin, then you finally got the guts to hold it up entirely, revealing something far beyond expectations. 
Spiderman suit?
Was it a fake one? Jake could've always bought it from Amazon. You held it closer for inspection, noticing how it was worn out, slight tears on the bottoms. It couldn't be a fake, something in you knew. The dried blood stains on some spots gave it away. 
Everything made sense to you now. Jake being secretive, hiding the truth from you every time you asked, turning up hurt and disappearing at random times just for the news to report Spiderman's appearance after. All of them were finally connected in your head, and revelations about his suspiciousness were known by you.
It hit you. Jake was spiderman. Your best friend was that vigilante swinging around the city saving people and fighting crimes. He was the one who walked and swung you home. He always knew.
You let out a breath of disbelief, knees feeling weak and head spinning. How were you to shoulder the truth after this? Pretend like nothing's wrong when everything is wrong and weird. It was practically impossible to patch up the existing crack that continued to worsen. 
Shoving Jake's belongings back into the bag, you shouldered it and made your way to his place. Your mind was in a haze, the thought of him being Spiderman was hard to wrap around. Sometimes ignorance was genuinely bliss, you wished this was one of those times. 
You didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Jake wasn't home when you turned up at his door, meeting a confused looking Aunt May instead. Apparently, Jake went out in search of his backpack that was currently in your hands, so you had no choice but to call him and wait for him to be back. 
How could you not have spotted it sooner? Now that you're in his bedroom for possibly the millionth time, everything seems clearer. The map of the city stuck on his wall which had random scribbles and locations circled in red marker ink stood out to you, the box of medicine and ointments sat on his bedside table that you frequently ignored. All the signs were presented before your eyes without your knowledge.
"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting," Jake closed his bedroom door after almost half an hour of waiting for his appearance. His hair was dishevelled, clearly panicked and alarmed. 
"No, it's okay, we're supposed to meet up anyway," you sat up from lying on his bed, nodding at the backpack sitting on his desk. "Got your baby back,"
"Oh my God," he crossed the room with big steps and had zero hesitation when it came to unzipping it to check his belongings. "Did I leave it at your place?"
"You did," 
"Thought I left it out there somewhere," he murmured under his breath, then zipped the bag up. You knew why he was so secretive, and it made even more sense why he always brought it around. 
Jake most likely felt your wandering eyes on him judging from the way he spun around and shielded his bag from view, trying to divert your attention away. "Want to watch a movie?"
How could you possibly say no? That sly prick.
You didn't indulge in his suspicious behaviour further now that you were aware of his secret, though you pretended not to. He did say he would reveal it to you soon, but that 'soon' was quite unknown. At this point, you didn't know who was going to be the first one to reveal it. Either you or him.
You spent half of the day binging on movies, ate an early dinner and then walked to the carnival together. Along the way there, you couldn't stop yourself from taking quick glances at Jake. The street lights illuminated his features under the darkening sky, the loud chatter of the crowd drowned out and it was only him in your world. Even as he asked you questions, you blindly nodded to most of them. 
How could you not fall for him? He bought you drinks without question, won you prizes at those booths, held your hand as you walked through the crowds. It was as if Jake Sim himself was blind enough to not know what he was doing to you. 
"Enjoying the night?" Jake threw his arm around your shoulder ever so casually that it had you holding your breath for a minute.
"You won me a big bear, of course I am," you held onto the stuffed toy tightly, grinning at the memory of Jake winning during his first try. 
"What's next? Wanna stop by that art and craft booth then we go on the ferris wheel?" Jake definitely did know his way into your heart.
"Sounds good," 
You thought the night would eventually end with peace and quiet, but before it could even end, it had been ruined beyond belief. 
The big screen suddenly flashed to a news reporter, the background looking chaotic and people were fleeing. It was live news, the whole thing was happening as you breathed. You and Jake stood rooted, staring at the big screen just like many others did, listening in on the broadcast.
'Just in, a monstrous creature was seen terrorizing and climbing along the Oscorp building. It was spotted not long ago, but now it has disappeared into the building, its whereabouts unknown. Workers of Oscorp have fled the building, but not all of them, some were said to be present in the building until now.'
You glanced at Jake, a sinking feeling in your gut. It was a sour thought knowing he's about to get himself in danger yet again, but having him bailing once more cut deeper than a falling knife. As a human, you wanted him to save lives and the city. However, you were also his best friend, and you hated to be selfish, but you just wanted him to be there without having to leave every single moment.
The conflict in your eyes matched Jake's, who was evidently struggling with himself. You tried to mask it, yet hurt and sadness was hard to ignore or hide. 
"Oscorp … Gwen," the faint hush of a murmur was audible under his breath, causing you to cock your head at him.
"What?" 
"I–I, Y/N, I have an emergency," he removed his arm around you, the hold on his backpack strap tightened. 
"Jake," to scream at him? Let him leave? All of the above? You struggled with your emotions as you tried to understand and empathise, you always did, but couldn't you just have him this one time?
"I'm sorry …" his voice was weak, he knew how much pain and hurt he caused you, and retreating away from your disappointed face wasn't going to solve anything, just the problem downtown, but not the cracks that were forming right now.
"I know, Jake," you shouted when he was a distance away from you. He turned around, eyes widened and pupils blown, a mix of confusion and surprise painted his features. "I know about you,"
He was breathless, he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He left without a trace, and once again, you were left alone to fend for yourself. You wanted to understand, you do, but it was hard. 
You glanced at the big screen for one last time, uttering a silent curse under your breath, and decided to head to where the scene was. Crazy? Stupid? You were everything described. That was probably why you and Jake were best friends. 
Taking the cab was one of the stupidest decisions you made, and that excluded the part where you're literally bringing yourself to danger. Thanks to whatever that was terrorising the Oscorp building, the traffic was heavier than usual, so you had no choice but to run on foot. It was the most running you ever did all year.
You wondered if it was a good idea to even be there. Answer: no. The police cars were everywhere, all of which were stationed with police that were armed with rifles. A helicopter circled the building, several broadcasting stations and their reporters were present too. It was a mess. 
"What's happening here?" You were practically out of breath, panting, as you asked a random bystander there. 
"Some freakish lizard creature. I think Spiderman swung into the building to save the remaining victims. They were all rescued but Spiderman's still fighting in there,"
"You saw him? Spiderman?"
"I did! Red suit, white webs, he was so heroic when he crashed through the glass panels," 
"That's the one," you said unnervingly, disliking the uncertainty of it all. Jake was putting himself in danger and you could do nothing about it. How long did this go on for? You were left in the dark for far too long.
Soon, which almost felt like forever, you saw a speck of red escaping from the gap in the building with somebody in hand. You held your breath out of anxiety, heart thumping, listening in on all the noises and reports coming from everywhere around you.
"There he is! Spiderman!" A reporter appeared next to you, absolutely transfixed with the superhero slinging through the dark sky and eventually landing in the distance. "He has the last hostage in hand! A girl!" 
A girl?
You pushed past the crowd, trying to get a closer look at Spiderman and the entire scene before you. There he was, speaking to the police, but there was somebody else too. Gwen Stacy. 
An overwhelming feeling crashed down on you like a heavy weight of boulders falling from the sky. Confusion, hurt, heartbreak, altogether they penetrated you harder than you could manage to breathe. One step, two step, you took many steps back before turning away and hailing for a cab home. 
He wasn't yours, and he wasn't yours to lose either.
Returning home to an empty apartment was nothing new, except it did hit differently this time. Your heart was empty, mind in a haze, it was as if your narrator had drawn swirls over your head. You wished things had turned out in another way. You and Jake, how you found out about his secret, him hiding his secret. If only all of them had another ending than what you had in the present.
You sat slumped over in bed, the desk lamp was the only thing that provided light for the darkness in your room. The shadow looming over your window went unnoticed by you. That was until a series of knocks sounded and you jumped out of bed in alert, finding it strange how there was nothing once your eyes trained on your window.
Well, there goes your future. 
You stepped a little closer. Just then, the window was jerked open by some unseen force, a red cladded face peeking his head into frame. Spiderman, or more accurately, Jake, was standing on your fire escape again. 
He dropped his backpack onto your bedroom floor, letting himself in wordlessly. You stared at him, not knowing whether to speak first or let him be the one to do it. After all, he had left you hanging, it's the least he could do.
Jake pulled off the mask from his head, revealing a rather beat up face and messy, dishevelled hair that was coated with sweat. "You knew?"
His voice was tired, but the confusion and hurt punctuated through his words. He inched close to you, but you took a step back, unable to meet his gaze.
"Well, it wasn't a long time," you muttered. "Just today, actually … coincidentally,"
"How?" 
"Your backpack. I swear I didn't look through it, it was unzipped and when I picked it up, everything spilled out. Your suit revealed it all," you chewed at your bottom lip, Jake's eyes boring into yours, the prickling feeling of anxiety crawled all over your skin. "I didn't want to find out this way either,"
"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I wanted to, trust me, you're one of the closest people I have in my life. But I just didn't know when or how to break it to you. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe," he was equally guilty for hiding it for a long time, but you understood the reason behind it. Being a hero comes with a great responsibility, that was what movies taught you anyway. 
"Jake, I know, and it's okay, but I just wish to be selfish for a little. I want you to be here with me, to be there for me a–and be my best friend for a minute," you felt yourself losing the will to speak as seconds passed by. "I feel like I'm losing you,"
"You're not. I'm here," he pressed his palm against his heart, stepping closer until he was barely a few inches away. "Always,"
"I don't want to lose you, Jake," your voice wavered, a clear sheen of tears glazed your eyes. "I'm in love with you," your words came out in a whisper, a hushed confession that spilled with no warning, coming from the deepest, darkest pits of your heart. Even then, you couldn't believe you had actually said it, stilling in place and blinking in shock. 
Jake's breath hitched, his movements frozen. You wondered about the possible scenarios you were about to face, ones that you thought of whenever you had the urge to spill your love confession.  All of them certainly didn't prepare you for what was happening next.
"I'm sorry," shock turned into instant panic. Your hands shot out to create a small distance between you and him. "Ignore what I just said. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—"
Jake didn't say much, and in a swift motion, he grabbed a hold of your hand, pulled you into him. One hand holding your wrist, the other cupping your face to tilt your head and his lips met yours.
You could barely register it. The weight of his mouth against yours created a mass of fireworks in both your head and stomach. The shock evaporated from your body and relief took its spot. You melted against his touch, leaning your body closer to his. 
Jake kissed you like no man could have ever done. He left a part of himself, imprinted his every unspoken word into a deep and passionate kiss. You wondered if this was what it felt like being loved by him.
Forever was what you wished for when it came to kissing him. Yet, it eventually came to an end just like every one of your favourite movies. This time, however, you weren't disappointed, you were glad. 
"Don't apologise. Y/N, I'm in love with you too," his hand on your cheek remained, the dim light managed to bring out the sparks in his pupils. It was your turn to be confused. Didn't he have a crush?  "I know what you're thinking. Gwen—" it's freaky how he always knew, "—I was kinda dumb, to be honest. I was always in love with you but it took me years and a girl to only realise that,
"She was nothing like you. The more I got to know her, the more I thought of you. I wasn't trying to like her, I was trying to find a piece of you in her. Being the coward that I am, I ran away from facing the thought of liking you, I didn't want to ruin our friendship. So, I kept on entertaining the thoughts of liking Gwen instead, but none of it was real. You're the one who's constantly taking up space in my mind, in my heart,"
The fireworks from earlier exploded ten folds in your mind. You couldn't believe you were experiencing every passing moment listening to Jake's confession. He felt the same way as you did for him. He has had the same pining for you like the same way you had for him. Years, years of unspoken romantic love for one another that both were too scared to touch upon. 
Jake took your shell shocked silence as an opportunity to continue on. "I'm sorry for standing you up all the time. I'm sorry for hiding the truth from you. I'm sorry for avoiding you. I'm sorry for not realising it sooner. But I love you, Y/N. You're my best friend, more than anything, you're the only person I want to have occupying my mind all the Goddamn time,"
"Jake," your hand travelled to place itself onto his which rested on your face. "I love you too," you laced your hand into his, the intimacy that would've been seen platonic days ago was now something more than that. You and him both felt the shift, it was apparent. 
"I don't care that you're Spiderman," you continued, not once breaking eye contact with him, letting him stare into yours as you did the same. "You're Jake to me, you forever will be, and that's all that matters,"
Jake's delicate features melted into a smile. His pretty smile that had you swooning was on display like a trophy, influencing you enough to crack a small grin too. He looped an arm around your waist, dipping you slightly and pressing a haste kiss on your lips, then your cheeks. 
"I guess I can now say I've swung into your heart," he teasingly sent a wink flying at you, to which you responded with an eye roll. Some things never changed, but his ego definitely was inflated now.
"Shut up before I kick you out," you threw a light punch at his shoulder, which he dodged almost unsuccessfully. "Come on, let's patch you up then we can go to bed," you patted his shoulder, walking towards your bathroom. 
"Demanding," he whistled under his breath, picking up his discarded mask from the floor. 
"Don't make me add a black eye to your face,"
"But you like my pretty face,"
"You want to test it out?"
"Okay, okay. I'm coming."
The night eventually ended with Jake being patched up and sleeping on your bed instead of his usual spot on the ground. These little changes was what you anticipated most, but other than that, it was safe to say nothing would be changing when it came to your and Jake's relationship. If anything, it was about to be stronger. 
So what if he was Spiderman? At least you knew Spiderman was yours, and he had indeed swung into your heart.
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Dating your best friend who had a secret identity was fun. 
You got to discuss maths in school and listen to his adventures after. Not to mention, he would swing you around New York City at times once the clock striked past midnight. No other girl was going to get a date like this. Ten out of ten, you may add. 
With the fun came the terror. You do fear for Jake's safety almost every time he's out, and it has become a routine to patch him up till the point where you had to restock your emergency kit. This time was like no other when Jake appeared through the window soundlessly in his Spiderman suit.
"Hey," he was breathless, tumbling over the window still. 
You jumped, not even realising his appearance. "What the hell? Jake? Oh my God," you got up right away to support his tired body, but he ended up sliding down onto the ground anyway.
"Are you injured anywhere? Bleeding?" You checked for his body, trying to spot any obvious cuts, making yourself comfortable in the space between his legs. 
"No," his hand reached for the end of his mask, pulling it up halfway only to reveal his lips. "Can I get a kiss?"
"Are you serious?"
"I am dead serious," 
You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips that eventually widened into a satisfied smile. You gently slapped his face, eliciting a sweet laugh from him and with a tug of his hand, he fully removed the mask from his head, revealing his pretty face that you missed.
"I got something for you," his hand reached out to brush your hair away from your face, his touch ever so gentle when it came to you. He dug something out of his bag, pulling out a fresh bouquet of flowers. "Ta-da," 
"Flowers?" You accepted the bouquet from him, noticing all of your favourite flowers in it. He remembered, even the littlest details about you, he remembered them all.
"I got them on the way here," you raised an eyebrow at him. He threw his hands up in defence. "Hey, I didn't steal them. I actually paid for them. They gave me a discount too because I was in my suit,"
You resisted a smile. "You're unbelievable,"
"Unbelievably cute? Romantic? Handsome?" He leaned in closer to you, noses close enough to brush against one another. 
"Go away," you squeezed his cheek, and he just let you do so without any fight. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him briefly. "I like them,"
"What about me?"
"I like you too,"
 "But I like you more," 
You threw your head back laughing, a simple sound which was enough to have Jake's heart racing. "We're not making this into a competition, stupid. Now, go shower or else you're not sleeping on my bed,"
"But—"
"Nope. Shower or get exiled,"
"Fine," he dragged his body up sluggishly, looking almost like a puppy being forced to his dismay: the shower. "You're not joining me?"
"Don't make me chase you out." you threw a pillow at him that he skillfully dodged. Damn his spider senses. His laughter echoed around your bedroom until he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of it gave comfort to you and your beating heart.
Things might've changed a little in different aspects, but you knew nothing could change you or Jake altogether. He was your best friend and lover no matter what he was. Spiderman or loverboy, he was everything to you. All you knew was that he was going to be by your side no matter what, protecting your heart alongside the city. 
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( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
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AITA for yelling at my sister for being disgusting?
I (19M) have been dating my boyfriend (20M) for 6 months now. I currently live at home with my mom (50F) and my sister (15F) while I'm at a local college.
My boyfriend, obviously, is gay. We are both gay. My mom was supportive when I came out and my sister was too.
When I started dating my boyfriend (Kev), my sister got a little obsessed with him. It just seemed like a weird teenage sister thing at the time, but it turns out according to my mom that she actually has a crush on him. Which... weird, but again, a little sister thing. It's not going anywhere. I've told Kev about it and he thinks it's a little uncomfortable, but he can deal with it. If she kept it to herself I wouldn't mind it, but she fucking doesn't. She constantly wants to hang out with us whenever he's over, never giving us a moment's peace.
Last time Kev was here, we were in my room and she walked in on us making out (without knocking, btw :/) and huffed before slamming the door. After he left a few hours later, she came into my room again to talk to me.
She proceeded to tell me, to my absolute fucking shock, that Kev wasn't gay and I was abusing him by not letting him leave me. I didn't even know what to say, so I just asked her what made her think he wasn't. She said he was obviously into her instead and was using me to see her.
I completely fucking lost it. Months of borderline harassment towards my boyfriend and that's fucking why? I told her that her creeping on him and making him feel uncomfortable didn't count as interest, and that she was a horrible person and an awful sister. I told her to stay the fuck away from my boyfriend, and if she ever brings him up again I'll kick her ass.
She started crying and ran off into her room, but I don't fucking care. I'm sick of having to act like she never does anything wrong. She essentially called my boyfriend a fucking pedophile and called me an abuser. I'm sick of it.
My mom said Kev isn't allowed back at our place until I apologize to my sister. I said good, I don't want my creep of a sister around him, and we can just hang out at his apartment anyway. I'm spending pretty much all my time at school and his place. As time passes though, I keep wondering if I overreacted. She's 15 but it's still so disgusting. I just couldn't take it anymore.
AITA?
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wonryllis · 7 months
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daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,
preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?
or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?
meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader
genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.
word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.
warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.
theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..
RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%
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"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.
a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.
the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”
“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.
“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.
“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.
“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.
his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.
“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”
“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?
“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.
yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.
“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.
“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.
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harrysfolklore · 1 month
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I’m cracking up at the thought of Oscar accidentally seeing a nude of his sister in Carlos’s phone
HELP I HAD TO ELABORATE ON THIS
read little bitch here
Hotel rooms are boring. There's nothing else to do other than lay in bed and shower.
You regret telling Carlos — because now he's your boyfriend, and you share hotel rooms with him, how wild — that you wanted to stay in bed all morning and not join him for practice sessions because now is nearly midday and he's not back yet. And you're bored.
Not finding anything else to do, you open your suitcase to put together your outfit for Quali tomorrow, you laugh when the first thing you see is a McLaren cap and a Ferrari one packed together. And to think that next year you'll be adding a Williams one to your suitcase for race weekends.
As you move a pair of jeans, you come into view with something you didn't even remember you packed — a red lacy set of lingerie.
You decide to put it on, after all, you don't have anything better to do.
Meanwhile at the Zandvoort Circuit, Oscar, Carlos, Lando and Max are lounging at a hospitality area. The sessions and meetings for the day were over, so they were just waiting for the call to head out.
"Lando, can I borrow your phone? Mine is dead and I want to check Lily's flight, it's supposed to land soon," Oscar says from his place on the couch.
"I can't mate, I'm sexting right now," Lando replies, making the group laugh and Oscar roll his eyes.
"Take mine, it's in the table," Carlos says, fixing himself a cup of coffee from the small station in the room.
"Thanks," Oscar grabs the device, failing when he tries to unlock it, "What's your pass code?"
"Your sister's birthday," Carlos says casually, stirring his coffee.
The room erupts in a chorus of groans and laughter.
"Oh my god, Carlos," Lando exclaims, barely containing his giggles. "That's so cheesy!"
"Seriously, mate?" Max joins in, "What are you, a teenager with his first crush?"
Oscar looks at Carlos with mock disgust on his face. "My sister's birthday? Really? I don't know whether to be touched or grossed out."
Carlos shrugs, a slight blush creeping up his neck. "What? It's easy to remember."
"Yeah, sure," Lando snorts. "I bet your wallpaper is a picture of you two as well."
Carlos doesn't respond, suddenly very interested in his coffee.
"Oh my god, it is!" Max howls with laughter. "You're such a sap, Sainz!"
Oscar shakes his head, chuckling. "I can't believe this. My sister's turned you into a lovesick puppy."
Just as Oscar is about to search for his girlfriend's flight information, a text notification pops up. Out of habit and muscle memory, he ends up tapping on it, opening the message.
Oscar's eyes widen, and he lets out a yelp, nearly dropping the phone. "Oh god, my eyes!" he exclaims, tossing the phone back to Carlos as if it were on fire.
The others look at him, confused and amused.
"What happened?" Lando asks, trying to peer at Carlos' phone.
Oscar covers his face with his hands, groaning. "I just saw something I really, really didn't need to see. Carlos, mate, you need to put a lock on those messages from my sister."
With a frown, Carlos opens his messages, tapping on your contact and finding what made Oscar scream in disgust.
A picture of you wearing the lacy red set, with the caption "we need to put these to good use before we throw all the ferrari red away"
Carlos glances at his phone, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly locks the screen. He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Ah, I see. Sorry about that, Oscar."
Oscar is still covering his eyes dramatically. "I'm going to need therapy after this. Seriously, Carlos, password protect those messages or something!"
"Come on, what was it?" Lando tries to sneak a peek at Carlos' phone. "It can't be that bad!"
"Trust me, you don't want to know," Oscar groans. "There are some things a brother should never see."
"Look on the bright side, at least you know your sister is happy?" Max pats Oscar on the back.
"Not helping, Verstappen!" Oscar throws a nearby cushion at Max, which only makes everyone laugh harder.
"Sorry, hermano. I'll be more careful next time," Carlos says, putting on an awkward smile.
"There better not be a next time," Oscar mumbles, still looking traumatized. "I'm going to need therapy after this."
Oscar makes a mental note to never, ever touch Carlos' phone again, and Carlos makes a mental note to lock his girlfriend's messages. And put those lacy red sets to good use later, too.
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ravenslvt · 7 months
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why does your best friend's older brother have to be so hot?? :(((
☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.1) ☆
cw: smuut! p in v, v fingering, fluffy, lowk sweet, implied virgin reader, unprotected sex.
pt. 2 pt.3 pt.4
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you sigh at the empty water bottle on the nightstand. you look over at your best friend, ami. she was fast asleep. you smiled, glad you were able to visit her on your break from university. you were grateful her parents let you stay over while they were out of the country for some sort of work meeting.
back to the important matter, your thirst. you slowly get up, trying not to wake your dark haired bestfriend. grabbing the tin water bottle and tiptoeing downstairs, making sure to close the door to her bedroom quietly on the way out.
you walk through the familiar halls of the house you’ve known since you were young. all the lights were off except the kitchen light.
walking in, you notice your bestfriend’s hot ass older brother, rintarou, leaning against the kitchen island on his phone. he was wearing his usual loose sweatpants, and a tight fitting t-shirt from your old highschool. it used to be loose on him, it was clear he’s been working out more and gained more muscle. his head perks up, he pauses whatever he was watching and speaks.
“hey, didn’t think anyone was still awake.” his voice is low and a little hushed.
you don’t notice the way his eyes go to your attire, small little sleep shorts and a tank top.
you notice he’s heating something up in the microwave as you reach the fridge, unscrewing the cap to your water bottle to refill it. you watch as the bottle slowly fills, talking to him.
“ami fell asleep and i was thirsty. she always passes out so fast” you softly chuckle. she was always the first to fall asleep at sleepovers, even in your childhood. girl was a deep sleeper.
“mmm” he simply hums, returning back to looking at his phone.
you turn back to face him, taking a refreshing sip of water.
“whatcha watchin?” you lean on your elbows against the counter, peering over at him.
your relationship with suna rintarou was…. friendly to say the least. he was only a year older than you and ami, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a (fat) crush on him since middle school.
you remembered the exact moment your crush on him had started. you and ami were twelve and rintarou was thirteen. you were at the suna’s family beach house for summer break.
you and ami relaxed in the sun, reading your assigned reading books together and laughing over how dumb you guys thought the plot was.
“seriously, this guy is so lame. he just mopes around and smokes cigarettes all day. dude’s gonna have lung problems” ami rolled her eyes at a certain line of the book.
you giggled and opened your mouth to say something to agree. until a volleyball came flying at you full speed. your eyes widened and you just froze. you two were aware rintarou and some of his friends were playing a game of beach volleyball a few feet away.
you flinched and put your arms up quickly in defense, but never felt impact. you look up to see a teenage rintarou who dived to grab the ball before it hit you.
“you good?” he called your name to get your attention. you just nodded, hiding the flushed state of you face with your book. he made a comment on how he read it in english class last year and if you needed any help on the work, he had your back.
“go away, rin. she doesn’t need your c- average help” his sister retorted as he walked back to his friends. he turned his head to give a small chuckle. you never forgot his smile since then.
back in the present, he takes his eyes off his video for a moment to look back at you.
“my game replays. hey, come watch this and tell me if you think furuhashi fucked us over with this serve” he did a ‘come here’ motion. you were at his side within a moment.
you peered at the phone screen over his shoulder. his phone looked so small compared to his large hands. he replayed the video for you to watch. you focused on the teamate he pointed to and it looked like he did a purposefully bad set, aiming right at the opponents head.
“ouch. seemed like he had personal beef with number eight….” your face scrunched in the way the opponent immediently fell to the floor from such a powerful blow.
“yeah, dude let his emotions get the best of him and got the rest of us in trouble with the ref for it” he shuts his phone off, sighing.
“you have another game next week, right? ami wanted me to go check you guys out.” you grab your bottle from the counter.
taking another sip of water, a small droplet spills past your mouth, down your neck, and disapears into the curve of your breasts. you notice the way his eyes follow the bead of water.
his eyes meet yours. and before he can open his mouth, the microwave beeps loudly. he quickly gets up to take the food out with a quick curse, hoping the obnoxious beeping didn’t wake anyone up.
he takes the steaming plate out of the appliance. you notice he heated up some cold pizza you guys ordered earlier in the night.
your eyes go back to his broad shoulders and arms, down to his large veiny hands. he’d matured a lot more since you’d seen him last.
you caught yourself staring, starting to feel a little awkward. you suddenly start to get a little hot, despite what little clothes you wore. you step away to leave the kitchen. your thoughts ran rampet of his hands. you pictured them touching your hair, your arms, your-
“where are you going?” his eyes are only on you now, his arms leaning against the counter to look at you.
“i- um should probably get back to ami” you gulp.
“why? isn’t she asleep? come hangout with your real favorite suna” he smirks, taking a peice of the hot pizza into his mouth.
you roll your eyes and fake scoff.
“don’t let your sister hear you say that, she might believe it” you cross your arms, eyeing him.
he swallowed, wiping his mouth with a napkin and smiling.
“i mean, it’s the truth. isn’t it?” god he was so cocky today. but you loved it.
“and what makes you think that, rin?” you played along. you step a little closer, this time you lean your elbows on the counter facing him. accidentally giving him a front row view of your cleavage through your thin top.
you see the way his eyes drop to your tits. oh you had him.
“cause, you think i’m cuter” his eyes flicker back to your own. he shrugs casually, a smug smirk on his face. his food now forgotten in his mind. only thing he wanted now was you.
“sure, whatever you want to think.” you sarcastically remark back.
he laughs, circling the kitchen island so now you had nothing between you except about a foot of space.
“oh i don’t have to think it, pretty. i know it” shit, he was getting closer and your heart was only beating faster.
“you’re delusional, rintarou.” you aren’t laughing anymore, smile fading to a more serious demeanor. you were nervous and he could tell.
he smiles, running a calloused finger down your arm. it left a trail of fire down your skin and your breath hitched.
“is that why you’re always staring at me. you think i don’t notice?” his voice is lower now, quieter.
fuck. he knew.
“as if you don’t oogle at me whenever i’m in a swimsuit.” you refuse to look away from his gaze.
he lets out a small chuckle. it was hypnotizing.
“i ‘oogle’ you no matter what you wear” he admits, almost proudly.
you eyes widen for a moment. you try your best to hold it together. his hand played with the ends of your hair. you two had never stood this close before.
you felt the flimsy fabric of your panties start to dampen.
“what’s got you all quiet?” his hand moves from your soft locks to hold your chin, forcing you to look right at him.
“screw you, rin” you retort, flustered. he snorts.
“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” his face only got closer to yours.
you guys were so close, you had forgotten you weren’t the only two in the house.
“in your dreams-“ you start.
“knock that shit off. admit you want this as bad as i do” he says your name. your faces were now inches apart. his eyebrows furrowed and he just looked so attractive. he was studying your expressions, his eyes never leaving your face.
“rin i-“ you start again. this time his lips hover over yours, ghosting over your own.
“tell me to stop and i’ll go back up to my room and we will never speak of this again.” his hand moves to cup your cheek, his forhead resting on your, giving you a chance to pull away.
but you didn’t want to pull away and he didn’t either.
finally, after what seemed like years of tension, you snapped. going up on your tipy toes to crash your lips on his.
his hands immediately draw to your waist, holding you as close as possible while your hands wrap in his soft dark brown locks.
years of unresolved feelings and tension all poured into one heated kiss.
his hands gripping your waist moves down to your hips, he turns you so your rear is against the counter. how convinient his hips are the perfect height for the kitchen island.
you let out a soft gasp as he bites your bottom lip, he smirks and gently prods his tounge into your mouth, seeking permission first. you lean your head back to let him kiss you deeper.
he was fully addicted to your lips.
he pats your hip and you take it as a sign to hop on the marble counter, he helps you jump up. he slots himself inbetween your thighs, your lips never pulling apart.
“fuck. i can’t believe i haven’t tasted you sooner” he says in between kisses. you giggle at the way he refuses to pull apart from you.
he just grips your waist tighter, his cold hands slipping under the fabric of your tank top. you gasp as he reaches for your bare tits, lifting the fabric to rest above your breasts. you never wore a bra around him. and of course he always noticed.
he gave your perky tits a firm squeeze, you mewl into his mouth as he gently pinches your hardened nipples. his cold fingers adding an extra chill.
rintarou’s hips press gently into yours. you could feel his erection through his pants. you grip his hair tighter at the feeling of his clothed member rubbing against your clothed clit.
you unlatch a hand from his hair and bring it straight to his hardness. he hisses as you rub him through the pants. he could feel a small wet patch forming in his boxers.
“shit, take these off” he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your sleep shorts, you lift you hips for him to shimmy them down your legs, you didn’t even notice where he put them. you didn’t really care.
you were left in your little lace panties. he gave a lopsided smile at how prepared you were. it was like you knew he was gonna fuck you tonight. or maybe you wore these all the time around him, just waiting.
“this wet already?” he sucks in a breath, running a finger over the growing wet patch on your panties. you just nod and focus your gaze on his long fingers. you wanted them so bad.
“rin, please” you grab at his hand that was teasingly brushing over your clothed clit.
“stop teasing” you pout at him. he looks up at you and gives you another kiss.
“you’re too cute not to tease.” he pulls away and pulls your underwear to the side, spreading your legs more. he curses at the sight of your glistening pussy, knowing it was all for him.
he runs a long finger down your folds, causing your grip on his wrist to tighten.
“so worked up, aren’t you? no one ever touch you like this before?” he asks, continuing his motions up and down.
“n-no rin, just you.” you breathily admit, a bit emberassed. it was the truth though, he was the only one you really wanted over the years.
he lets out another curse at the thought of being the first guy to touch you in this way. he was straining against his boxers, his loose sweatpants suddenly feeling so tight on his hips.
“tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop, okay?” he looks you in the eye, serious. you just nod.
“wanna hear you say it, baby” he pulls his hand away from your cunt.
“yes rin, i swear” you assure, shimmying to the edge of the counter to be closer to him.
he smiles, giving you a peck on the forehead before prodding his middle finger into your tight hole, spreading your wetness to make sure you were ready.
he slowly enters you and you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. he gives a few slow experimental pumps of his finger before you were asking for more.
“this ok?” he whispers in you ear, kissing your neck.
“god yes. more please” you plead in a quiet tone, trying your best to keep silent.
he chuckles and adds his ring finger. just two was enough to stretch you out. it was a delicious pain of his large digits splitting you open. you couldn’t even imagine how good his cock would feel.
you bite your knuckles to muffle the sounds of pleasure you were making. but nothing could cover the wet noises coming from him finger fucking your pussy.
his wrist started to ache, but it was worth it to see the way you were taking it so well. he curled his fingers, doing a ‘come here’ motion inside of you. you let out a muffled curse as your legs started to shake.
he kept pumping and curling his fingers over and over. his long thick fingers reached places your little hands just couldn’t.
“i think i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a soft moan, still trying to be quiet.
he just kisses you through your orgasm, groaning into your own mouth. your pussy squeezes around his fingers and he swallows up all your noises. he imagines how you’d feel squeezing his cock like this, while his other hand groping your tit, pinching your nipple. you arch into him and pull away from his lips to breathe.
you pant and look at him, face completley flushed, he slowly removes his fingers. his hand was coated in your cum. he gives your chest a few small kisses, accidentally leaving faint marks on the skin. not an accident at all.
he was panting too. you looked at him, curiously. your eyes go down to his pants. there was an obvious wet stain in the front.
“did you….” your eyes go wide as he flushes with emberassment.
“m’sorry you were just so fucking hot i couldn’t-“ he starts, but you cut him off with your lips. you were immediately aroused again, but this time the only thing that could satisfy you was his cock.
you paw at his sweats, shaky fingers clumsily trying to untie the drawstring. he grips the back of your neck with one hand while the other helps take off his pants. he starts to stroke himself until he’s hard again, still recovering from blowing his load in his pants.
you swat his hand and give his cock long strokes. you finally get a good view of it. he wasn’t small by any means, but not obnoxiously large. it was a delicious size that made your mouth go dry. there was a certain blue vein that ran down from his tip, your finger running over it, making him hiss.
he noticed you staring and encourages you to continue, his thumbs rubbing your thighs in comfort.
you swipe your thumb over his slit making him shiver like a small dog. his tip was so sensitive. you move to try and hop off the counter to get on your knees, but he stopped you, gripping your hips.
“if you do that i won’t be able to last.” he pets your hip sensually. you pout.
“don’t give me that look. next time, i promise” he pecks your lips and your heart flutters. so there will be a next time.
his head rests on your shoulder as you continue to stroke up, switching from pumping it to teasing his tip. he stopped you once his hips started to sputter. he was like putty in your hands at this point.
“p-please” he says your name, panting.
“i need to be inside you. i need to feel you so bad, baby please” he begs, kissing your neck, leaving darker marks in his wake.
you whine at his words, using your legs to wrap around his hips, his cock sitting right above your needy cunt.
“fuck me already, rin” you give his cock a few more pumps before lining him up with your wanting hole.
he does as yous say, slowly pushing in, his mouth gaping wide and his head falls back once he’s fully inside of you.
now your head rests on his chest as you encourage him to move. he slowly pulls out then back in with a powerful thrust. you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out. surley leaving a mark.
“ohmygod rin” you can’t help but chant out his name as his thrusts quicken. you were praying ami was still asleep or she would totally hear the sounds of his hips slapping into yours.
“shh. gotta be quiet, kay? don’t want your friend to hear you getting fucked by her big brother do you?” he clasped a hand over your mouth, you unconsciously squeezed him tighter. your eyes screwed shut tight.
“fuck. you’d probably like that wouldn’t you? want everyone to see how badly you want my dick?” he groans in a hushed tone, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper. he was loosing control.
he gripped onto your hips to stabilize his pace. you guys never broke eye contact as your mouth hung open silently, trying so hard to keep quiet. he smiles at how fucked out you already looked.
“rinnn” you whine.
“m’right here, pretty” he kisses you once again. one of your hands takes purchase in his (now) messy hair, the other one gripping onto his strong arm. you were sure you were clawing into him with your nails, but he didn’t seem to mind.
you were getting close already. he moaned into your mouth as you tightened around his cock. he fed you simple praises from his pretty mouth, encouraging you to cum.
your thighs tightened around his hips, wanting him to be even closer, if that was even possible.
“i got you, baby. let go” he whispers inbetween kisses.
he bites your lip as you cum on his cock, squeezing him in every possible way. you whine into his mouth, the kiss now turned so messy a bit of drool fell from your mouth.
he fucked you through your orgasm as you shake in his hold, he was holding back his own until you were satisfied. you started to mewl from the overstimulation of his veiny cock pounding into you.
he pulls out, pumping himself until he finishes on your thigh, letting out a hushed moan of your name from his lips, making you squeeze around nothing. both of you breathing heavily.
after you both cool down from your highs, he looks at you, full of admiration.
“you did amazing” he kisses your cheek.
once your mind fog clears, the realization hits you. you just fucked your childhood crush, your bestfriends brother. a part of you feels a little guilty, but the other part of you wants nothing more than to do it again.
he notices your hesitation, placing a gentle hand on your hair so soothe it down.
“hey, you okay?” he asks. you didn’t even notice when he had pulled his pants back up, or when he put your top back in place over your tits.
you give him a soft smile.
“i’m okay” you assure him.
“good” he smiles back, he grabs a nearby kitchen cloth and wipes off his spend from your thigh.
“gross, rin. people use that towel” you scold.
he just shrugs “i’ll throw it in the wash”
you both knew in your heads you couldn’t tell anyone about this.
it was your little secret.
suddenly, rintarou’s phone lights up from across the counter. he puts your panties back in place, grabbing your sleep shorts and putting your legs through them so you could put them back on. he snatches his phone for you both to see.
‘WEATHER WARNING: all schools in the area shut down for another two weeks’ the notification read.
your eyes widen. looks like you’d be staying at the suna’s house for a lot longer than you thought.
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the next morning
“ouch, looks like your girl maimed you” ami laughs over her waffles. you sit next to her, pouring the syrup over your own. rin almost chokes on his food and your head snaps up.
“what?” he says with a mouthful of bacon. ami points to the scratches on his arm and the literal bite mark on his shoulder. your eyes go wide. you made sure to wear a hoodie to cover your own marks.
“aww rin hooked up with a wolf!” you add, trying not to raise suspicion. he squints his eyes at you, swallowing his food.
at least he had the decency to wipe down the counter before we ate.
“something like that” you eye eachother before turning back to your breakfast.
this was gonna be a long stay.
masterlist
a/n: i kinda wanna make this a mini series lollll lmk of you’d like a pt.2 (this is highkey ooc but idc!!! its fanfiction!!!! i love my fake man fr)
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pickingupmymercedes · 14 days
Text
Very first - Lewis Hamilton NSFW
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Request: First time with Lewis. I had 5 requests for that and I hope I did it justice (sorry for how long it took for a couple of those requests)
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: unprotected sexual activities, all sorts.
Wrap it before you tap it.
wordcount: +5K
a/n: Haven't written in first person in so long, but all the drafts felt better like this. Also, it's huge, ops. Hope you guys like it.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT
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It was easy with him, too easy maybe, but that's what made it so damn nice.
“So,” I started, turning to him with a half-smile. “You want to come up?”
We’d spent the morning driving through the countryside, talking about everything and nothing—his races, my job, the ridiculousness of the price of avocados.
His eyes met mine, and I could see the question there, like he was trying to read me. “You sure?”
It was cute that he was being cautious, but come on, we both knew why I was asking. I nodded, keeping my voice light. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the countryside air or just the fact that we had spent the day away from the madness of London, but today felt different.
Calmer, somehow.
I led him up the stairs to my apartment, trying not to think too much about how it had been a while since I’d let anyone in here.
Literally and figuratively.
“Welcome to my humble abode” I said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
He hesitated in the doorway, taking it all in.
My place was small, but it was mine—books, plants, a blanket that I was probably too attached to. It wasn’t flashy like the places he was used to, but I liked that about it.
“Nice place,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“It does the job” I replied with a shrug, kicking off my shoes. “Make yourself at home.”
He followed suit, slipping off his sneakers and setting them neatly by the door. “It suits you. Feels… grounded.”
I let out a soft laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
He leaned against the counter as we headed into the kitchen to grab some water.
But when handed him the glass, and our fingers brushed, it was fireworks all over again. God, how was I still reacting like a teenager with a crush?
“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “So, today was fun.”
“It was,” I agreed, taking a drink to give myself something to do with my hands. “It’s nice to get out of the city for a bit. The countryside’s got this whole other vibe.”
“Yup” he said, setting his glass down. “Nice to just… let it go.”
“Even from the racing?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Especially from the racing,” he chuckled, shaking his head.
There was a beat of silence, and I could feel the shift in the air between us, that tension that had been simmering since our last date starting to bubble up again.
The last time… well, things had gotten pretty heated until his phone rang, snapping us both out of it.
It was a close call, but I’d pulled back, sticking to my rule. No rushing into things. I’d done that before, and it never ended well.
But this time, he was making it very hard for me to stick by that rule.
I wanted him, and from the way he was looking at me, I’d take a pretty good guess he wanted me too.
I took a step closer, letting my hand find his. That simple touch was all it took for the tension to skyrocket, and before I knew it, we were closing the distance between us, lips crashing together in a kiss that was anything but tentative.
His hands were on my waist, pulling me closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
God, the man could kiss.
It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, who you were, and why you ever thought not doing this was a good idea. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed me was anything but.
There was urgency there, a hunger that only fueled into my own, and I could feel it in every brush of his lips, every tug of his fingers on my shirt.
I pressed myself against him, deepening the kiss as I let my hands roam up his back, memorizing the feel of him.
The muscles there were as solid as they looked, and I couldn’t help but think that this man was literally built for this kind of thing.
I mean, I had the image of what he looked like shirtless—hell, half the world did—but feeling it under my fingers was a whole different story.
He let out a low groan against my lips, and I was losing myself in the kiss, in him, and for a second, I almost didn’t care about anything else. Almost.
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath. “Y/n…”
The way he said my name, low and rough, made me want to pull him back in and never let go.
But there was something in his voice that made me pause.
“Yeah?” I whispered, my hands still resting on his shoulders, my eyes closed shut.
“I just… I don’t want to rush you” he said, his voice soft but serious. “I know last time… I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again.
Damn, he was really being careful, wasn’t he? But I appreciated it. More than I’d probably let on.
“Lewis” I started, taking a breath. “I want this. I want you. And I’m not saying that lightly.”
He studied me for a moment, like he was searching for any sign of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Not this time.
“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.
I nodded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw tentatively. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
That was all it took.
He kissed me again, and this time, there was no holding back.
And damn, if it wasn’t about time.
We barely made it through the hallway before his lips found mine again, pressing me against the wall with just the right amount of pressure.
God, he was good at this. I could feel the heat between us, the urgency in his touch making it clear where this was heading.
“Bedroom?” I mumbled against his lips, not really wanting to break the kiss but knowing we couldn’t just do this against the wall like teenagers.
Although, thinking it back the idea didn’t sound so bad.
As soon as we stepped inside his eyes landed on the teddy bear sitting in the middle of my bed. Of course.
“What’s this?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pointed to the bear.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to let him see how much I loved that he was trying to lighten the mood.
“That’s Mr. Bear, and he’s not going anywhere, so you’ll just have to deal.”
“Mr. Bear?” He picked it up, inspecting it like it was some kind of artifact. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure he approves.”
“He’s a tough cookie” I quipped, crossing my arms and giving him a look. “But you might want to focus on impressing me instead.”
“Oh, I plan on it,” he murmured, setting the bear down gently on the bedside table before turning back to me, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something much more intense.
He stepped closer, his hands finding the hem of my shirt. “Can I…?”
I sighed, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Lewis, if you ask me for permission one more time…”
He grinned, but there was something softer behind it. “Just making sure, love”
“I know,” I cut him off, my voice softer too. “But trust me, I want this. I want you.”
He held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, slipping his hands under my shirt and lifting it over my head.
His fingers grazed my skin, causing goosebumps down my skin as he took his time, clearly trying to be as gentle as possible, maybe even allowing for the time for me to back off.
It was sweet, really, but I was starting to get impatient.
“Lewis,” I said, a warning in my voice.
He chuckled, his hands moving to the waistband of my jeans. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop asking.”
“Good” I muttered, stepping out of my jeans as he slid them down my legs.
When I was finally standing in just my lingerie, his eyes roamed over me, and I could see the want—was it also awe? —in his eyes.
“I don’t think it’s fair,” I said, my voice teasing as I reached for the hem of his shirt.
“What’s not fair?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine with a tense stare.
“That you’re fully dressed” I replied, tugging at his shirt. “Especially when half the world uses your abs as gym inspiration.”
He laughed then; a deep, genuine sound that made my heart skip a beat. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”
He raised his arms, letting me pull the shirt over his head. And yeah, the man was every bit as ripped as I had imagined.
I already knew what was under there, but damn, it was something else to see it up close like this.
And the tattoos. Those damn tattoos.
I ran my hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he watched me with that same intense gaze, like he was studying every move I made.
It was intoxicating, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered at that second.
“Better?” he asked, his voice low as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.
“Much” I whispered, my fingers trailing down to his abs, feeling them tense under my touch.
His breath hitched slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile.
It was nice to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling a little overwhelmed by this. He might be Lewis Hamilton, but right now, he was just a guy standing in front of me, and I was the one making him nervous.
He softly guided my chin up and smiled, that stupidly soft and loving smile, before leaning into my lips, my hands exploring his back, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach.
He took his time though, his hands sliding up my sides to my back, and only then pausing at the clasp of my bra.
With his lips still hovering over mine he breathed into me. “Can I…?”
I rolled my eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Yes, Lewis. You can.”
And with that – and with his lips back on mine – he undid the clasp, letting the bra fall away as his hands moved over my now bare skin
Finally. And damn, if I wasn’t loving every second of it.
His lips started to trail from my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts, taking detours to worship every inch of skin he found on the way.
By the time his mouth reached my belly, I was practically trembling with anticipation.
When his fingers brushed the lace of my underwear, I couldn’t help the hiss that escaped my lips.
He paused, looking up at me with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. Without a word, he moved back up to capture my mouth with his, as if soothing the impatience brewing inside me.
And I was impatient. The slow, deliberate pace was driving me insane, and he knew it.
I kissed him back hard, my hands roaming down his sides until they found the waistband of his boxers.
I was more than ready to speed things up, and as I slipped my hand under the fabric, I was pleasantly surprised to find him already half-hard.
“Guess the rumors weren’t exaggerating,” I murmured against his lips, my fingers brushing over his length.
He responded with a low growl, one hand angling my head as he kissed me again, harder this time, effectively shutting me up.
But he never stopped me from continuing my exploration. I traced the outline of his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the way he twitched under my touch.
Knowing I could get this kind of reaction from him was a high I probably wouldn’t get over for a minute.
When he finally broke the kiss, I met his gaze, silently asking for permission to go further. “It’s all yours, babe.” He chuckled, a sound that made me want to attack him and hide all at once.
I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down.
The moment his dick sprang free, I couldn’t help the way my breath caught in my throat.
He wasn’t impossibly long, but he was definitely above average, and the girth—God, the girth—was enough to make my pulse quicken.
He was watching me, of course, catching every flicker of reaction on my face.
When he noticed my wide-eyed surprise, he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. His smile was warm, reassuring even “We’ll take it slow.”
I nodded, grateful for his patience even as it frustrated me. I returned his smile, my fingers wrapping around his length. His breath hitched the moment I touched him, and I couldn’t help but bat my eyes at him playfully.
“Gosh, you’re trouble” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.
I grinned, taking my time as I began to pump him, feeling the weight and heat of him in my hand.
When I reached the tip, I leaned down to press a kiss there, delighting in the way he shivered at the contact.
“Sensitive here, huh?” I teased, looking up at him.
Whatever retort he had in mind was lost when he dragged me back up to his lips, his hands firm on my hips as he effortlessly maneuvered me onto the bed, pressing my back against the headboard.
His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. “I’m good, love. But we need to make sure you’re ready” he murmured, his statement a promise to my ears.
Before I could respond, his mouth was on me again, trailing kisses down my body with single-minded focus.
When he reached my inner thighs, he took his time kissing through the fabric of my lace underwear, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips.
“Don’t tease,” I breathed, hating how desperate I sounded.
He giggled—that soft, infectious sound that I’d grown to love. “Just making sure” he whispered, his fingers hooking around the strings on my hips, slowly pulling the lace down and off.
As he finally took in the sight of my exposed cunt, his expression shifted into something almost reverent, like he was savoring the moment. He leaned down, leaving featherlight kisses on my outer lips, the gentle touch driving me wild.
“Lewis” I groaned, the frustration in my voice clear. “Please.”
He smiled against my skin, his breath hot against my thigh. “Patience, love. I’m just getting started.”
The first tentative lick sent a shockwave through my body, and my hands immediately grabbed at the sheets, fingers curling tight.
Every nerve on me was on fire, heightened by the slow, deliberate pace he was setting.
And just when I thought I might float away, he hooked an arm around my hips, anchoring me in place. His other hand found mine, fingers intertwining, as if he needed to connect with me anymore.
His eyes never left mine, and even if I wanted, I couldn’t really stop watching as his tongue lapped up my clit. A gasp escaping my lips as the pleasure spiked through me.
“Fuck,” I muttered, barely coherent.
He continued, his tongue moving with just the right pace, not rushing, just giving me enough to keep me teetering on the edge.
When he felt I was wet enough, he let go of my hand, moving it down to tease at my entrance with a single digit.
“I’ll need words from here, love” he murmured, his voice muffled. “Tell me what you like.”
“Don’t stop,” I managed to say, my voice shaky, almost pleading. “Just—don’t stop.”
With a grin, he slid a single finger inside me, his own hiss vibrating through the room as he felt my walls.
“You’re so tight,” he breathed, a note of awe in his voice. “This is gonna be heaven.”
He took his time, exploring with just that one finger, feeling around until he found the spot that had me squirming under him. When he hit it, I couldn’t help the moan that tore from my throat, my hips bucking involuntarily.
“Found it” he said with a satisfied smile, his eyes locking onto mine.
Then he added a second finger, the light stretch already making me gasp.
He started a scissoring motion, opening me up, getting me ready. All the while, his tongue didn’t let up, lapping at my clit in perfect rhythm, just enough to keep me on edge without pushing me over.
The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with my ragged breathing and his low murmurs of praise.
He was studying me, like he was learning exactly how to make me fall apart under him.
After what felt like an eternity of this sweet torment, he finally pulled back, sitting on his heels.
I watched as he switched to his middle and ring fingers, angling them just right before sliding back into me.
The feeling was delicious, and when he curled his fingers and found that spot again, I cried out, my hips lifting off the bed.
“Easy” he murmured, his free arm holding me in place as he started a relentless up-and-down motion.
His thumb brushed over my clit, making my breath caught in my throat and my head spin.
I was completely at his mercy, the pleasure building and building until I could hardly breathe.
The wet noises from where his fingers worked inside me were obscene, mingling with the desperate little sounds I couldn’t hold back.
He kept on the soft praises, but they were swallowed by my moans as I got closer and closer to the edge.
And then it hit.
My vision went white, and all I could do was hold onto his arm on his hips, feeling the waves of pleasure crash over me again and again. My whole body tensing before it felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.
He didn’t stop until he was sure I’d ridden out every last bit of it, his fingers slowing their movements but never letting up until I was trembling beneath him.
Only then did he pull his fingers out.
When I finally came back to myself, I found him watching me with a look that was equal parts smug and adoring.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as if sealing the moment. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice gentle now.
I could only nod, too blissed out to form a coherent thought, let alone words.
And then he had the nerve to ask if I had one more in me, and again all I could do was nod.
But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for him. “I need words,” he insisted, and barely managed to get out “Fucking hell, you’re not leaving me without the rest.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t deny how endearing it was.
How many green flags could one guy have? Annoyingly checking every damn box.
When he went to his wallet, I knew what was coming next.
He handed me the condom packet, giving me that same patient, earnest look, like he was asking if I could handle one more thing.
I reached for him, giving him a few more pumps just to feel him twitch in my hand. Sliding the condom on, I could feel the heat building again, a rush of anticipation making my heart race.
He adjusted our position like he was handling something precious—placing a pillow just under my back, so deliberate and thoughtful.
But when he rested his dick on my inner thigh, all those coherent thoughts I had left my brain like it was suddenly a foreign language, and I remembered the girth.
Holy shit. How was I supposed to handle that?
The weight of him, the sheer size, and the fact that I was supposed to take it in?
Was this man sculpted by the gods or what?
And why did I have to get stuck on how considerate he was instead of focusing on the absolute insanity about to happen?
Before I could spiral any further, he came up to me, his lips brushing mine, dragging me back into the present. “We’ll take all the time you need, okay?” his voice like honey, smooth and sweet.
And there I was, rolling my eyes again, even as the warmth spread through me.
I wanted to snap back, something sassy on the tip of my tongue, but then his tip entered me, and all I could do was hiss at the sensation.
He kissed me through the first thrust, his dick practically ripping through my walls, and my hands automatically went to his back, nails digging into his skin, holding on for dear life.
I tried to breathe, tried to adjust to the stretch, but when he finally stopped, I realized he wasn’t even fully in yet.
My eyes shot down, and sure enough, he was still focused, his breathing controlled, and all I heard was a low murmur, “Geez, you really are tight.”
I felt his arms on either side of me, solid and reassuring, and I squeezed them gently. His eyes instantly found mine, filled with concern, and I had to smile softly. “Move, Lewis. Just please, move.”
And then he did, thrusting into me with an agonizing slowness, deeper with each motion, until finally, I felt his balls press against my ass, and he sighed like he’d found what he was looking for.
My mind, however, was a different story.
Holy shit, how was I still breathing? I was split open in the best way possible, and all I could think was how the hell was this man real.
I was sure each thrust was going to create its own memory, and I was teetering between wanting to scream at the top of my lungs and begging him to go even harder.
But there was something about how he moved—deliberate, careful, like he was savoring every second, every reaction I gave him.
The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world, was enough to push me over the edge again. And I could tell he was holding back, trying to keep control, trying to make sure I was okay, even as his own need was practically vibrating through his body.
God, I’m so screwed, and not just in the physical sense.
I was falling, fast and hard, and there was no stopping it now.
Not when he felt this good, not when he was this good to me.
Every thrust made me crave more, made me cling to him tighter, made me want to lose myself in him completely.
Lewis’s focus was entirely on me, and it was like he was memorizing every gasp, every twitch, every reaction.
It was overwhelming, in the best possible way, but still I needed more.
I wanted to be the one in control, to feel him from a different angle, to see what this man—this ridiculous, considerate, and sexy man—would do when I took the reins.
Leaning into his ear, I whispered, “I want to ride you.”
The words were barely out of my mouth before I felt him tense beneath me, half-worried, half-hopeful.
It was adorable, really, how he tried to mask his excitement with concern.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, and there was that hint of amusement in his voice, but I could also hear the edge of desperation.
Did he really want this as much as I did, maybe even more?
“We’ll take it slow, right?” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.
I sat up, pulling away just enough to guide him to sit on the bed, and as I moved into his lap, I could feel his heart on his chest.
Slowly, I lowered myself onto his dick, feeling every inch stretch me again, filling me completely.
My lips parted in an involuntary gasp, my eyes squeezing shut as I adjusted to the sensation.
His hands found my waist, gripping tightly as if grounding himself, and when I finally opened my eyes, he was staring at me with that same soft smile that always managed to break through my sarcasm.
I couldn’t help but smile back, pulling him into a kiss, the kind that had me wrapping me around him.
I started moving, rocking back and forth, feeling the friction build and spiral.
The kiss broke when he moaned against my lips, a sound that only spurred me on, making my moves harder, seeking more.
His hands guided me, helping me rise and fall on him, and every time his tip brushed against my cervix, I saw starts. It was so intense it almost bordered on pain.
I let out a cry, my body trembling at the sensation, and he immediately stilled, concern flashing in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and it was almost ridiculous how serious he was, but also incredibly sweet.
I looked down at him, half breathless, half in awe of how he managed to be so considerate, even in the heat of the moment. “Going to be even better when you drag that other orgasm out of me, like you promised.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He started to thrust up and I matched him, riding him faster, until I could feel that familiar tension coil tightly in my belly.
I wasn’t going to last much longer, and by the way he was groaning beneath me, neither was he.
A few more thrusts, and I stilled, holding him down by his abdomen, feeling the shift in him as he realized what was happening.
He searched my face, and then his expression shifted as he felt my walls clenching around him, my legs shaking as I came undone.
I couldn’t keep myself upright, collapsing into his chest as wave after wave washed over me.
Lewis took that moment to start thrusting again, riding out my orgasm, and I was vaguely aware of the way he was holding me, like he didn’t want to let go.
I could feel his rhythm faltering, and it wasn’t long before he let out a deep grunt, his fingers digging into my waist as he held me in place and his moans were all I heard.
We were both breathing hard, tangled together, and for a moment, everything else faded away.
It was just us, in this moment, and I couldn’t help the ridiculous surge of affection for him.
Who knew I’d end up here, wrapped up in the arms of a guy like Lewis? But here I was, completely wrecked and somehow, already craving more.
As I eased off his lap, I heard a low moan escape his lips, and I giggled as I looked down at him, sprawled out on the bed with a stupid grin plastered across his face.
"Enjoying yourself, are we?" I teased, reaching down to carefully remove the condom, trying to catch the mess inside. He didn't even respond, just lay there looking like the cat who got the cream.
I slipped off to the bathroom, tossing the condom in the toilet before taking a moment to pee—because there was no way I was dealing with a UTI when I had Lewis to myself like that.
And just that thought was ridiculous on its own.
When I came back into the bedroom, Lewis immediately pulled me into his arms, almost like he was afraid I’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
He was sweet in the aftercare, his voice soft as he asked, “How was it? How do you feel?”
I could hear the concern laced in his tone, but that grin was still there, tugging at the corners of his lips.
It was impossible not to smile back, even as I decided to mess with him a little. My fingers wandered lower, tracing the lines of his lower waist, and I looked up at him with a teasing glint in my eyes.
“You know” I started, trying to keep a straight face, “I always thought you were a shower… I’m glad to see you’re also a grower.”
Lewis giggled, his chest vibrating under my chin as he shook his head in mock disbelief. “Really?”
“Yeah” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I mean, it’s only fair to acknowledge all of your… talents.”
He shook his head again, but I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. “And here I thought I had you speechless.”
“You did” I assured him, my fingers dancing across his skin again. “But I can’t stay quiet for long.”
He chuckled, pulling me closer, his hand running up and down my back in soothing strokes. “I’m glad. It’s part of your charm.”
I rolled my eyes at that, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through me at his words. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself.”
His grin softened into something more tender as he looked down at me. “You make it easy to be sweet.”
I pretended to look annoyed, but the smile on my face gave me away. “Okay, that was disgustingly cute. But fine, I’ll allow it.”
“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he teased, his hand coming up to gently brush my cheek “What if I want to be disgustingly cute more often?”
I hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “I guess I could get used to it… as long as you keep up the other stuff too.”
He giggled again, that carefree sound that I was quickly falling for. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m planning on sticking for a bit.”
I smirked, resting my hand on his chest. “I think I can manage that.”
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literaila · 22 days
Note
i need more of gojo's dopey grin and reader cooing over him when they're alone
“hey.”
to anyone else, this position might look a bit… concerning.
but laying face down in your bed, head smushed into the pillow, fingers clinging at the sheets underneath the duvet, uniform still on—well, this is normal to satoru.
because of course it is.
you don’t bother to move, or breathe, or really even comprehend that gojo is back several hours later than he’d told you he would be.
no, your feet hurt a bit too much, and your shoulders feel pinched. whoever invented nerves and muscles anyway? and how can you travel back in time to murder them?
“why are you home?” you ask satoru, voice muffled into the pillow.
but he must understand you well enough because the weight of the bed shifts at your waist, and there’s a hand on your back. “i don’t know… thought i might try going to bed a bit earlier.”
“no, you didn’t.”
he must be smiling. “no, i didn’t. i did miss you though. tired?”
“i think i died.”
“mmm…” and then there’s a weight—at least a billion tons—covering your body, and an ear in the middle of your back as gojo lays on you. “ah, nope! there’s your heart. it’s very happy to see me.”
“my eyes are closed.”
“the heart knows no bounds, darling.”
you scoff and then remember that your lungs are being crushed. “gojo,” you cough out, lifting your head finally. “i can’t breathe.”
“then how are you speaking to me?” he asks, bravado evidence in every inch of him, but he lifts himself off and you relax once again—or relax as much as a person who might never be able to get up again can.
but then there’s a hand at your shoulders, and a blinding light in your eyes as satoru flips you over, his knees finding their place on either side of you, hands right by your neck.
“ugh,” you try to move back, but he’s on top of you. so, yeah no, nothing happening there. “i hate this thing,” you say, reaching around him to mess with the knot he’s tied at the back of his head.
usually you don’t mind the blindfold, but today it has potential to ruin your entire relationship.
satoru only laughs, pushing your hands away as he does it himself. his eyes are there, after that, focused on you even as he leans over to set the blindfold somewhere unimportant.
“the kids asleep?” he asks you, staying above you—where he’s most comfortable.
“tsumiki came and said goodnight an hour ago. and megumi might be in a coma because he fell asleep at six and probably won’t ever wake up again.”
“oh, good, so we’re off the hook.”
“yup. for at least seven more hours.”
satoru grins, his hair in your eyes as he leans down. “that’s enough time,” he tells you, kissing the side of your jaw, and then your neck, and then—
“i’m too tired,” you tell him, kind of pouting, kind of wishing you had any energy to push him off. “why are teenagers so fast?”
he kisses back up, still smiling. “endurance training?”
“i think it was more ‘let’s practice killing our teacher’ training.”
“aw, that’s my favorite,” his eyes meet yours. “did you at least kick their asses?”
you scoff. “are you kidding?”
gojo shakes his head, mostly just to taunt you.
“of course i did,” you huff, kneeing his stomach so he’ll get off.
satoru complies, just to show that he can be sweet.
and it might take all of your body strength, but as soon as he is on his side, you curl up beside him, leg swung across his hips.
you ignore satoru’s silent laugh and make an effort not to comment on the hand that wraps around you, keeping you secured to him.
“good?”
“hmm.”
satoru swallows, hands finding their way to the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric. “i had another meeting today.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“how’d it go?” you ask softly, grabbing his hand instead. you intertwine your fingers, allowing his subtle teasing of his thumb on your skin.
“fine. good. bad,” satoru sighs. “i need to take another trip soon.”
“hmm.”
“not until the end of the month, probably. but soon.”
“okay,” you whisper to him, looking at your hands. “that’s fine.”
he makes a noise, nuzzling his nose into your forehead. “that’s what took so long. i didn’t mean to miss dinner.”
you laugh, squirming away from the ticklish feeling. “it’s okay. at least megumi was more pleasant than usual. no one to tease him.”
“i’ll double it tomorrow.”
you groan, turning so you can look up at him—because if you’re going to convince him of anything, you’ll need your face to do it.
but satoru is already grinning back at you.
his eyes are entirely soft. his skin as always been so perfect, the planes and edges of his face a mesmerizing configuration.
you must be really tired, because you pause for a moment. satoru looks at you like that often enough but it—
it doesn’t make it any more bearable.
so you groan again, shaking his hand from yours. “stop smiling at me like that. i can’t focus, and im trying to argue with you.”
he laughs. “i thought you were tired.”
“i am. i cant be dealing with you and your face right now.”
“my face?”
“your stupid eyes.”
“stupid?”
“shut up, gojo,” you tell him, shaking your head. “i’m closing my eyes. don’t look at me.”
“but i just can’t stop,” he murmurs, sweetly.
and against all judgement you look at him again—and he’s still smiling.
this time, you swallow, looking a little bit more.
no one ever said you weren’t allowed to admire him just a little bit. it’s not like it’s illegal.
satoru hums and leans down. he kisses you softly, both of your necks straining, and you can still feel the damn smile. can taste the exuberance, smell the sincerity.
he adjusts both of you then, moving so that you’re laying all the way on the bed, no longer bending your neck to see him.
satoru pulls away with a smack, eyes very close to yours. “your lips are warm.”
you close your eyes. “stop,” you say to him, so quiet it’s almost inaudible.
but satoru doesnt.
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Text
It’s the summer of ’85. The summer of chlorine-bleached hair and navy blue shorts. Of red felt tip against white board and molten ice cream on sticky hands. Of unexpected friendships and teenage sorrows, snug-in screenings and bumpy car rides. It’s a cruel summer. It’s the summer Eddie Munson climbs through Steve’s bedroom window. Repeatedly.
It all starts the day of graduation at someone's house. Everyone around Eddie is having the time of their life, getting wasted and high while Eddie throws himself a pity party. And judging by the figure hidden in the corner, arms crossed in front of his chest, pout on his lips Eddie isn't the only one. It's weird seeing King Steve, ruler of parties and champion of kegs stands, awkwardly stand on the sidelines of a party. But then again Steve Harrington hasn't been King Steve for a while. He may have won prom king (at least that's what Eddie has heard, he wouldn't be caught dead at prom) but it's been a hot minute since Steve held his head high, acting like his hair was a crown, his varsity jacket a fur coat and sports trophy his scepter. Not that Eddie has paid much attention to Steve Harrington over the years or anything. Eddie knows that curiosity killed the cat, but cats have nine lives and Eddie can definitely spare one, he thinks as he slowly crosses the room and approaches Steve.
"Penny for your thoughts, joint for your sorrows," Eddie asks and holds out a joint for Steve. Steve's eyes widen in confusion for a second, before the frown on his face turns into a soft smile that's going to haunt Eddie's dreams.
"This a pity smoke, Munson?" he says, nodding towards the joint in Eddie's palm.
"Charity actually," Eddie says, "Looks good on my tax return and all. You know the drill."
The soft smile turns into soft laughter and fuck abort mission, abort mission, Eddie thinks. Pretty boys shouldn't be allowed to laugh like that. But Steve does and it leads to smoking the joint in the back of Eddie's van which somehow leads to a far too vulnerable conversation about expectations and failure, about pressure and loneliness and about how Eddie is the prettiest thing Steve has ever seen. It leads to an unexpected kiss and another and another and another  that leads to an unexpected hook-up.
Eddie thinks Steve is gonna run the next day, act like it never happened, stay away from Eddie. He might not go to college after summer, but Steve is probably going to leave Hawkins sooner or later, so best for him to just forget everything about last night. Only that Steve apparently doesn't want to forget or to run. Instead, he shows up at Eddie's trailer the next day. For a second Eddie is afraid Steve is going to punch him, he doesn't expect to get pulled into another kiss.
It kinda becomes a regular thing during the first few weeks of summer after that. Steve drives to the trailer when Wayne is out and Eddie climbs through Steve's bedroom window regardless of whether Steve's parents are home or not. Just for the fun of it, the summer romance feeling of it, the drama of it all.
It also makes Steve roll his eyes with a fond smile when Eddie stumbles through his window. It's all fun and games until it starts to become a problem. Because Eddie already had harbored a small but not insignificant crush on Steve while they were still in school and Steve was  just the popular jock at the other end of the hallway. But having Steve like this, naked, stripped bare of his clothes and all the pretense he always wore at school like armor? It's life-ruining. Eddie already knows he is not going to start his third try at senior year with his  heart intact.
They are a couple of weeks into whatever this is, when Steve mentions his parents forcing him to get a job at the mall, says they'll have to meet up less, talks about the stupid costume with a dorky hat he has to wear, but says Eddie should come say hi, if he wants to. Steve can get him a free scoop or something.
"Ah yes the real benefit in friends with benefits," Eddie laughs, "free ice cream."
Only that friends with benefits isn't quite accurate. They aren't friends, they aren't dating, they are just repeat hook ups. Eddie tries not to be bitter about this, knows this is already more than he ever thought he could get. Despite his instincts telling him not to go see Steve at Scoops because obviously it was just a stupid joke, Eddie goes. He is glad he does because maybe god is real and the indecently short and tight sailor uniform shorts are his way of trying to make up for all the hardship he has made Eddie suffer through.
Steve is a vision in the uniform especially with the dorky hat he claims to hate so much. Steve beams at Eddie when he sees him.
“You came!” 
“And will several more times today now that I have seen you in those shorts,” Eddie whispers and leans on the counter. Steve rolls his eyes but blushes slightly. The same shade of red as the scribbles on the white board behind Steve. “What does the you rule you suck mean?” 
“That’s Harrington’s score board with our customers,” Steve’s coworker chimes in. Eddie hadn’t paid much attention to her until now. “As you can see he sucks quite a lot at scoring any phone numbers or dates.” 
“Oh,” is all Eddie can say. He is glad he hasn’t tried the ice cream yet because he is sure he is about to throw up. Of course Steve is trying to score. They never said they were exclusive and why would they. Why would Steve want to be with some trailer trash boy for anything more than a little fun. Eddie doesn’t know what’s going to happen first: crying or throwing up. All he knows is that he has to get out of here. But before Eddie can run and berate himself for being so fucking stupid, Steve’s hand closes around his wrist.
“I’m taking my break,” Steve announces loudly and pulls Eddie into the back room. 
“It’s not what you think,” Steve hurries to explain as soon as the door falls shut behind them. “It was Robin’s stupid idea. She thought my customer service voice was me trying to strike out. I just wanted to get a tip.” 
“So you’re not flirting with your customers?” 
“Only metalheads with curly hair and a beat up van,” Steve teases. “Robin just assumed because I got the reputation that I was striking out. And I didn’t bother to correct because it doesn’t really matter and it’s not like I can go around announcing that I have a boyfriend.” 
“Boyfriend?” Eddie raises his eyebrows, heart beating in his chest, the word echoing in his mind. 
“Well I’d have to ask him first if he wants to be,” Steve grins and puts his hands on Eddie’s hips,  pulling him closer. “I had it all planned out. Romantic dinner, candlelight, Judas Priest playing. Might have to up that though since he apparently had no idea how serious I am about him.” 
“You know you could make him a pb&j and he would be wooed. He’d be stupid not to say yes to being your boyfriend,” Eddie says and leans in, lips only inches away from Steve. Even without touching he can feel Steve’s lips twist into a smile. 
“Yeah?” Steve asks. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says before sealing his promise with a kiss. 
Maybe it’s not going to be a cruel summer after all. 
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vbecker10 · 26 days
Text
As Long as You Love Me
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: You've been Loki's only friend since he joined the Avengers and you are trying to hide your growing crush on him since you doubt he feels the same. One night, Loki accidentally catches you singing in the kitchen when you think you are alone and you let it slip that the song reminds you of him.
Warnings: Trying to go for fluff only but there is a little bit of Loki feeling like no one will love him after what happened with Odin, Laufey and Thanos
A/N: Do not judge me for this song choice... because I don't care lol. Every once in a while I still listen to the Backstreet Boys even though in my mid-30s. I thought the song just fit really well with Loki so here we are. Also, I needed something short and fluffy to get me out of my writing slump. Hope you all enjoy this 💚
Thanks @animnerd for letting my bounce this is off of you 💚
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"Popcorn time," you say to yourself as you close the microwave in the common kitchen and push the popcorn button. The bag starts to rotate and you move to lean your back against the island as you take your phone out of your pocket.
"Nope, nope, nope..." you hit skip on the next three songs that shuffle through your Playlist unaware that you are no longer alone in the kitchen.
Loki walks into the room, a smile quickly spreads across his face when he sees you. "Hello Y/N," he says from a few feet behind you. His smile fades slightly when you don't respond but then he notices you're wearing your earbuds.
You hum, putting your phone down on the counter next to you as the next song starts, still not realizing that Loki is watching you. Raising the volume slightly louder, you drown out the sound of your midnight snack popping. You begin to lip sync, bopping your head with the rhythm of the song. As the song continues, you start to sing out loud without meaning to.
Every little thing that you have said and done
Feels like it's deep within me
Doesn't really matter if you're on the run
It seems like we're meant to be
I don't care who you are
Where you're from
What you did
As long as you love me
Who you are
Where you're from
Don't care what you did
As long as you-
The microwave beeps and you stop signing as you open the door and grab the bag. You turn back around and nearly drop your snack with a surprised yelp as you spot Loki standing on the other side of the island.
You take off your headphones quickly and he laughs as he apologizes, "Sorry, I tried to get your attention but you didn't hear me."
"You sure you weren't waiting there just to scare the crap out of me?" you joke and pause your music.
"If I was trying to scare you, you would know." He smirks, "Would you like me to show you?"
"Definitely not, I'm good, thanks," you laugh and shake your head, opening the bag.
"Stark is more fun to scare anyway," he says as he comes to stand next to you. "I had no idea you could sing," he adds.
You feel a bit confused then you realize you must have been singing outloud. "Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh. "I'm a horrible singer. I thought I was alone or I never would have subjected you to that."
"I liked it," Loki smiles genuinely.
"Liar," you taunt him and eat a few pieces of popcorn as you lean on the counter next to him.
He raises an eyebrow at you, "You know I never lie to you."
"So you're not a liar," you admit, knowing you are in fact the only person Loki never lies to. "But that just means we need to get your ears checked."
"I've never heard that song before," he changes the topic slightly.
"It's old-ish. I used to listen to it when I was a teenager," you tell him and he nods as he takes a handful of popcorn from the bag you're holding. "Do you mind?" you joke as you pull it away from him.
"No," he laughs, eatting the pieces he stole one at a time. "So why are you listening to it again?"
Without thinking, you answer, "It reminds me of you." You immediately look down at your feet as you shift awkwardly away from Loki.
"It does?" he asks and you can hear the surprise and confusion in his voice.
"Uh..." your brain tries to come up with a response but the only thing you can think of is the truth. "Yeah," is all you offer him as an explanation.
You can feel him shifting closer to but you don't look up at him, "Why is that?"
"Don't worry about it, it's just a stupid song," you try to end the conversation. "I've got to finish my laundry."
"If I'm not allowed to lie, neither are you," he reminds you and when you look up, you can tell you aren't escaping just yet.
You bite your lip and hope half of the truth will be enough to appease the God of Lies. "Okay... but just remember you asked," you sigh and he waits patiently for your answer. "Do you remember last month when we were talking about some of the stuff that happened before you joined the Avengers?"
He nods. It was a very long, difficult conversation that neither of you had planned on having. Loki had been acting more distant than usual all week and when you finally convinced him to talk to you, he opened up about how out of place and lonely he felt on Midgard. You tried your best to reassure him that the others on the team would become more welcoming to him once they got to know him better. He agreed half heartedly and followed up his comment by telling you that he barely deserved friends, let alone a partner after all he had done. You stayed with him most of the night, listening to all the things he blamed himself for and trying to remind him that none of what happened with Thanos was his fault.
"This song came on my Playlist randomly a few days later and I was thinking about the chours," you explain. "I don't care who you are, where you're from or what you did as long as you love me. It just kinda stuck with me that that's what you need. Someone who doesn't care that you're a Frost Giant from Jotunheim and knows that you didn't attack the city because you wanted to. Someone who accepts you for who you are."
"And where would I find someone like that?" he asks. His fingers gently stroke your cheek and you look up at him. He seems almost nervous as he smiles down at you.
You force a smile back through your nerves, "I've always accepted you Loki."
"I know you have darling," he says in a soft tone. The sudden use of the pet name makes you blush and when you try to look away, his fingers hook gently under your chin. Loki's eyes lock on yours as he says, "And I love you for it."
Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you try to process Loki's words. "You... what?" you ask, feeling shocked and confused and sure you misheard him.
He chuckles anxiously at your response, dropping his hand from your chin as you take a small step away from him, "I hadn't planned on you telling you this way..."
You stand in complete silence for a moment, trying to force yourself to admit to Loki that you've been in love with him for months. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out and Loki's smile fades completely.
"I understand that you don't feel the same, that's why I hadn't meant to tell you. Y/N, I don't want to lose your friendship, it means too much to me-" Loki's words are cut short when you put your hand on the back of his neck and pull his lips to yours.
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In an instant, Loki kisses you back fiercely. His hands move to your lower back and he pulls your body flush to his as you drop the bag of popcorn but neither of you notice. After a few moments, you break from the kiss to catch your breath and let out a small giggle. "I love you too," you smile up at him, his hands still resting on your back.
"I was hoping that's what the kiss meant," he laughs then leans down to place a quick kiss on your lips.
You nod then rest your head on his shoulder, one of his hands moves to play with your hair gently. "That's my new favorite song," you say before placing a kiss on his neck and hugging him tightly.
"Mine too," Loki agrees with a light laugh.
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fastandcarlos · 3 months
Text
Stolen My Heart : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: sneaking around the garage was only going to last so long, especially with lando norris lying around
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You wanted to say after so many years you were used to being the baby of McLaren, but truthfully, it never got easier. You loved your job, you loved snapping photos, filming content, and just being around the team…one of them in particular.
You were always promised yourself never to tied down whilst at work, you wanted to remain professional and keep things friendly. But then you met Oscar. The guy who somehow managed to change all of that for you.
What started out as friendly conversation, soon became a little bit more. He’d pull you into a corner when no one was looking and kiss you, or hold against your waist to reassure you whenever you felt that something wasn’t quite going right. You were the one that constantly made him look good, that resulted in thousands of fans losing their minds every time something Oscar-related was posted.
People were used to seeing the two of you together, but as the more time passed, the more Oscar liked to test the waters. Unlike him, you were terrified that if something got out your job would be at risk, you loved Oscar, but you loved working for McLaren too. There were moments when he’d try a little too hard, resulting in you having to be firm with him, pushing him away out of fear.
“Babe, I wouldn’t do this if anyone was around,” Oscar told you as you shot a glare in his direction. Your head shook at him, trying your best to ignore the look of desperation that Oscar stared back at you with.
With one person in particular you’d had a couple of near misses. Lando. The one person you knew would tease you like you could never believe if he found out about your relationship. If Lando ever found out, then you knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the garage found out too.
Lando had his suspicions though. For the past couple of months, he’d noticed how much bigger Oscar’s smile was, or how much more excitable he was for race weekends at the paddock. Every time Lando tried to push and find out what, or who, had caused his new enthusiasm, Oscar would just brush it aside as nothing. Deep down, he wanted to scream out your name, but the urge to protect you always pushed that feeling back down again. However, the more that Oscar pushed him away, the more Lando wanted to pull him right back in again.
It didn’t take long before Lando started to read between the lines more, he’d notice how Oscar would always ask for you to walk and photograph him, how he’d sit up straighter whenever you joined them for a team meeting, or how he’d always compliment your work the most when the two of them were deciding which pictures to post.
Lando opted not to tease Oscar about his findings, knowing that eventually the right time would present itself for him to finally get out of Oscar what he was hoping to here, with maximum satisfaction too. His plan was almost working too until one night Lando went out to find you for some help with a post on his social media, rushing around the paddock to try and find you before the sun set.
“Y/N?” He called out as he noticed a figure that looked like yours, picking up his pace in order to catch up to you. There was only a split second between him arriving and you moving, pushing away at something.
“Hey,” you smiled, straightening out your shirt, glancing at Oscar who stood beside you.
“Am I interrupting something?” Lando quizzed, looking between the two of you, noticing the anxious expressions that you both wore, how uptight you both were stood as you tried to calm your blushing cheeks.
“You are actually,” Oscar suddenly spoke up, leaving you stunned. “I was trying to enjoy the sunset with my girlfriend, is that too much to ask for?”
“Wait…you two are like together properly?” Lando grinned, brushing his hand through his hair. “I always thought the two of you were just crushing, like a pair of teenagers back in school.
“Lando, shut up,” you whispered, desperate for something, someone, to take you away.
“No way!” Lando giggled, pushing against Oscar’s shoulder. Neither of you quite knew what to say or do as Lando jumped around in front of you, unable to hide the wide smile that was on his face.
“Reckon you could go away now?” Oscar quizzed, turning Lando around and pushing him back in the direction that he just came from.
“Well, that’s me sacked in the morning,” you sighed, feeling an arm drape across your shoulders as Oscar pulled you in tightly against his side.
“He’s Lando, he’s only messing with us,” Oscar tried his best to reassure you, pulling you close enough to kiss against the top of your head.
“But what if-“ you began, only to find yourself cut off by Oscar pressing a kiss against your lips, cupping either side of your face to keep your eyes firmly on him.
“I won’t let it happen, there’s no chance. Plus, you’re crazy if you think Zak will ever want to get rid of anyone as talented as you,” Oscar spoke, trying his best to reassure you.
“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, unable to clear the thought from your mind, filled with fear that this was the end of something. Your career. Or Oscar.
“I love you, it’s going to be alright,” Oscar calmly responded.
"But what if-" Before you had the chance to protest, he pressed yet another kiss against your lips, keeping you there for a few moments longer. It was a dangerous game with so many people passing by, but at this point, Oscar simply didn’t care.
“I know it might sound stupid, but trust me,” Oscar chuckled as he pulled away, “I know Lando, he might seem like a complete idiot…but he only is, partly.”
You took Oscar’s word and for quite a while it seemed to be true. Lando liked to mess with you both every now and then but he never risked properly exposing you both. He had his moments, and you had yours, hitting him or taking an unflattering photo of him any time he tried to reveal your secret. Like with him, Lando knew it was only a matter of time before you accidentally revealed yourselves to everyone else too.
As much as he tried to resist you, Oscar knew it was an impossible task. More than anything he wanted to celebrate those victories with you, but instead he had to remain professional, choosing to fist bump you in the paddock, and celebrate properly with you back at the hotel room.
One race when he was on the podium, you could barely contain your excitement, something that one person in particular picked up on in the garage.
“You could try and pretend like you’ve not just watched your boyfriend get P2,” a familiar voice whispered as they came up alongside you. “You’re not playing it very cool.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act in this situation,” you admitted, looking to Lando for a little bit of help to sort yourself out.
“Just say well done to everyone,” Lando instructed, stepping back as he noticed the people in the garage part as Oscar finally returned.
“And to him?” You quizzed, but Lando was already gone, leaving you stranded as Oscar came striding towards you.
A lump ran down your throat as you admired the trophy that was in his hands, suddenly feeling the attention of the whole garage was solely on you.
“I did it,” Oscar chuckled as he showed you the trophy before closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss.
You wanted to push away, remind Oscar of where he was, but he was like an irresistible force. You stood and kissed Oscar back, hearing a few cheers when the two of you pulled away a few moments later.
“Well, well, well,” Lando teased, smiling proudly knowing that you’d finally done what he knew the two of you would do, eventually.
“I’d love to say I’m surprised, but I don’t think anyone really is,” Zak chuckled, leaving you stunned as he threw his arm around Oscar’s shoulder.
“I had no idea!” Andrea called out, leaving everyone in fits of giggles.
“You’ve hardly been subtle, have you both?” Zak grinned, nudging against your side too as he tried to encourage you to smile and relax a little.
You weren’t quite sure what happened for the next couple of hours, between explaining yourself to everyone and celebrating Oscar’s win, you found yourself in a hazy bubble. It was only when the two of you sat out on the pit wall, all alone, hands intertwined with each other, that you took a moment to calm back down again.
“I always told you there was nothing to worry about, didn’t I?” Oscar whispered across to you, noticing you staring down at the track.
You knew deep down you never had to worry, if anyone was going to have your back, it was Oscar. You had completely stolen his heart, everyone around him constantly teased how they didn’t recognise him anymore. He was a changed man, completely besotted and in love with you.
The two of you stayed in a comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying the first time you were able to show each other any real affection and not look over your shoulders out of fear as to who was potentially watching you.
Not only had Oscar found himself winning with you, but what he had achieved on the track felt as good as a win too. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, struggling to believe that the life that he was currently living truly belonged to him.
“I never got to say it back to you earlier,” you hummed, watching as Oscar’s confused eyes looked back at you.
You whispered those three little words across to him, the same three words he had told you earlier that day when trying to comfort him. It was a big deal for you anytime you said it aloud, but with Oscar, you truly did mean it. He made you feel special, cared for, and loved like no one had ever made you feel before. He was one of a kind, in the best possible way.
With your words, Oscar squeezed your hand a little bit tighter as if to silently tell you that he felt the same way. You shuffled closer so that you could rest your head down against his broad shoulder.
“I’d love for someone to take a picture of us right now, but no one is as good as taking photos as you,” Oscar mumbled underneath his breath.
“I could set up a self-timer, find the right angle, make sure we’ve got the right lighting,” you suggested, much to Oscar’s satisfaction.
“That’s a good idea, I always share your photos, so it would be nice to share one of yours to be able to share you with the rest of the world too.”
“You really mean that?”
Oscar nodded back at you straight away, pulling out his phone and handing it across to you. It was something that he’d wanted to do for some time, but now more than ever, he was sure that now was the moment for the two of you.
“Make sure you get my good side,” Oscar joked as you jumped off of the wall and went to set up the photograph for him.
“Babe, all your sides are your good sides!”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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gojonanami · 1 year
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SEEING YOU TONIGHT, IT'S A BAD IDEA RIGHT? - SATORU GOJO
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summary: seeing your ex was always a bad idea, but not if it was satoru gojo.
cw: 18+ readers only, smut, f!reader, innuendos, ex-boyfriend!Satoru, praise kink, thigh riding, degradation, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), breeding kink.
a/n: gojo and bad idea right by olivia rodrigo has been living in my head rent free and here's the product :).
word count: 3,873
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It was dangerous. 
Look at this picture I drew Nanami. Can’t believe he didn’t want to keep it. 
Gojo attaches a picture of a crudely drawn dick, and you snort at your phone. 
It was a dangerous game the two of you were choosing to play. 
Small. Is the response you choose. Short but funny. And just enough to elicit a response you want. 
You know the real thing is much bigger. 
And there it was.
The game the two of you chose to play back and forth always ended here one way or another - and usually it was him who drove it there in the first place. 
Is it? I don’t remember. 
Then come over and I’ll remind you. 
But that didn’t mean you were completely blameless either. 
You bite your lip at his text. You really shouldn’t. 
You’re just horny. 
That’s right. 
Another message. 
For you. 
Fuck him. But that’s what exactly you wanted to do again. 
You told yourself the last time would be the last time. After he had fucked you and left you high and dry, you told yourself you wouldn’t fuck your exes or let them fuck with you. And you didn’t — except for Gojo. 
He was always the fucking exception wasn’t he? 
And he was the exception to your ick to double texting - because you supposedly took too long to respond to his message. 
Should I show you what you’re missing? 
And it’s a picture of him fresh out of the shower, with the most shit eating grin on his face. Water ringlets traced his body with absolute reverence, his thighs teasingly visible, reminding you how you had come undone on them the last time you hooked up, and the towel of his was frustratingly too low on his waist. 
What’s your new address? 
Fuck.
And that’s what you were going to get done tonight. 
You didn’t know what to wear. But did it matter because it was going to come off anyway. You opted for a little black dress, one that was a little too short and little too tight. 
You pull up to his place - off campus - and it’s a new shiny high rise building that you stare up at with squinting eyes. Show off. 
“Trust me, I’m not overcompensating for anything,” and you whirl around to see him waiting for you, “but you know that don’t you?” 
“Oh do you ever shut up?” and he leans closer, tilting his sunglasses off his face, lips curled in that goddamn grin. His blue button-up and jeans made your breath catch -- god it had been so long since you've seen him out of his usual Jujutsu Tech uniform.
“I plan to, later tonight,” and you scoff, as he leads you to his building, a hand on the small of your back that sends sparks flying up your spine.
“Memory recalls you don’t shut up much during that as well,” and his hand snakes around your waist as you both walk in, nodding to the doorman as he lets you both into the elevator, “don’t you live at the school? I was surprised when you told me that have a place off-campus,” 
“Well I prefer to live in a place free of teenagers sometimes,” his arm leaves you, slipping into his pockets, as he raises an eyebrow, “unless you were looking forward to fucking in our old school,” 
You glare at him, “Gojo-“ 
“That’s not what you called me in Yaga’s classroom that one afternoon when everyone was away-" He says cheekily.
“Oh my god, Satoru, shut up,” and you crush your lips to his, and he’s grinning. His arms slip around your waist as if they never even left. But these weren’t the same lean arms that pinned you to a desk as he ate you out that one afternoon - no these were the ones of a man who has trained and seen battle time and time again. You were always surprised at how broad Satoru had gotten over the years - it shouldn’t be a surprise as he was always the “strongest” but he was lean and fit before, slender almost - but now, as he pressed you against the wall of the elevator, fingers digging into your ass, his body engulfed you. 
And you were already addicted to the feeling. 
If it was any more obvious, you don’t hear the ding of the elevator as you arrive at his floor, as he pulls away, “going to have to part for a second sweetheart, need to unlock the door.” 
But he pulls you along by your hand, and somehow that gesture is all the more overwhelming than anything you had done in the elevator. 
You watch him scan his keycard, unlocking the door, “How much does Jujutsu High pay you?” 
And he smirks, “Perks of being the strongest,” but you frown at that — you know those were few and far between. 
But he pulls you inside, pressing you against the door, “Now where were we?” He hums against your neck, his hands slide over your bare thighs, “I’ve missed this-“ 
“Could have fooled me,” you sigh as he kisses your neck, “I haven’t heard from you in a year,” 
“I am a very busy man,” and he lifts you with such ease, hands wrapped around your thighs, your dress so easily riding up, “wear this just for me?” 
“Just for you, and maybe on a few dates,” and his head tilts, expression flickering with jealousy for a millisecond before his god complex returns. 
“And yet here you are with me,” and he’s kissing you again, his tongue parting your lips with ease, as if he’s trying to erase any evidence of another person’s touch. You moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, “so pliable, aren’t you sweetheart? Just fall to pieces under my touch,” 
And his words serve to make you squirm, but as a challenge as well, as your hands tug him by his collar, “and you don’t? I recall that afternoon in the classroom, and I had to pray no one walked by so they wouldn’t hear your moans when I rode you,” 
But he’s annoyingly unfazed, his breath warm against your skin, “I love a woman who takes charge, that’s why I can’t get enough of you,” and he’s closing the gap between you, kissing your lips, before tracing kisses down your jaw and neck, until his teeth graze your pulse, “should I leave a mark?” 
“Gojo-“ 
“Oh I’m definitely leaving a mark now,” and his teeth dig into your neck, sucking and licking, drawing a moan from your throat, “does anyone else make you moan like this?” 
“Why are you interested in —ah—“ and he’s tugging the straps of your dress off, “that?” The last word comes out as a whisper. 
“No bra? And you’re so insistent that you weren’t flirting with me over text,” and he snaps the strap against your skin, “it’s always flirting when it’s us, sweetheart,” 
“You didn’t answer my question,” you grumble and he’s carrying you now, your arms around his shoulders, “Gojo-“
And he’s pressing you to the wall outside his bedroom, and he’s taking off his sunglasses - and no matter how many times you’ve seen his eyes - no matter how many times you’ve stared into them — they always make you feel like you’re drowning — breathless and slow, like you submerged in water, unable break to the surface. 
“Are you going to continue to call me that?” And he’s being rough as he teases your thighs apart, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, “because I may take you right here - let all my neighbors hear you cum on my fingers, my mouth, or my cock - dealer’s choice,” and his kiss is bruising, as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, relentless as always, always trying to prove himself, and he had nothing to prove. 
And it only took his hand shaking up your thigh to press on the wet patch of your underwear to make you break. 
“Satoru, fuck-“ and his grin makes you shiver. 
“Good girl,” and you nearly come undone from those words alone, as he carries you to his bedroom, tossing you into his bed without much to-do. 
You bounce against the springs of the mattress slightly, but he’s on you in a moment, perched over you, as he meets your lips in a desperate kiss, as if he had parted from your lips ten years ago as opposed to ten seconds. 
You are pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head, but he pins your arms down before you can, “not yet, baby,” 
You’re strong but not when he’s using his strength to hold you in place, “Satoru-“ and he’s using his free hand to slide your straps down lower, “that’s not fair-“
“I was born unfair,” and you snort, but it quickly turns to a groan when his hand squeezes your breast. 
“So sensitive,” and he leans his head down to suck on your nipple, “no one tastes as good as you sweetheart,” 
“And how many others have you tasted this year?” And he doesn’t pause, only switches to the other, as his fingers tease the other nipple. 
“I could ask you the same,” and you gasp as his teeth graze your nipple, “Satoru-“ and he pauses now, “tell me,” 
You grit your teeth, “No-"
“Then I’m going to suck a hickey here,” he kisses right above your nipple, “and you won’t be wearing these low cut dresses for a while,” and his teeth bare against your skin, and you jolt against him, “tell me,” he repeats. 
You lay your head back, “I said I went on a few dates, I didn’t say I have slept with anyone else-ah-“And he’s sucking the mark, his teeth biting and nibbling on the skin, as he soothes it with his tongue, “you said you wouldn’t-“ you whine, and he smiles, before pressing his lips to yours. 
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he cups your cheek, “shyness suits you,” 
And he’s tugging your dress downward, rolling it down to your stomach, and you’re pulling at his shirt, until he helps you get it off his shoulders. And your eyes rake over his chest, “Like what you see?” 
You flush, “I never said you were bad to look at,” and he raises an eyebrow. 
“Princess, I’m the best to look at,” and that draws a laugh from your lips, which he eagerly swallows, pressing his lips fervently to yours, looking to worship the mouth that just made that heavenly noise, “I haven’t been with anyone else,” he breathes, a centimeter from your lips, “since you,” 
“Really?” And he tilts his head. 
“Just for you, sweetheart,” and you don’t waste a moment. 
You’re flipping him on his back, and he’s staring up at you — in shock and then in lust filled eyes, a thick haze that settles over your body, as you press your lips to his again, and he surges to meet them. 
Your fingers are fumbling with his belt, and he’s trying to pull your dress down your legs. You part for a moment, standing to pull it off, before settling on his lap again, but his hands pull you to settle on his thigh instead. 
He flexes his thigh, and you stifle your moan, your cunt squeezing around nothing, “come on, ride my thigh,” your wetness soaks through and he groans, “you’re certainly wet enough for it,” 
“Fuck-“ and he flexes again and again, until you’re grinding against his thigh, and his cocky grin makes you want to slap him. 
“Sweetheart, you’re soaking through,” and he grunts, helping you ride his thigh, the muscle and fabric rubbing against your clit, making you moan, “that’s it, c’mon cum on my thigh like a good slut,” 
And that sends you over the edge, the squelch of your pussy on his leg growing only louder, as your juices run down his pant leg, “glad I could do that twice,” and he’s kissing your neck, “maybe we can make it a third,” 
And you meet his lips in a lazy kiss, your lips sliding across his at first, until it grows more insistent, and you’re back fumbling with his belt, pulling it off, and undoing the button of his jeans. 
“So needy,” he smirks, and he lifts his waist, to help you pull off his pants, “didn’t know you needed my dick that bad, Princess,” but the smugness leaves as you palm him through his boxers, a hiss leaving his mouth as you slip your hand inside, teasing the head with your fingers. 
“What was that again? Who’s needy?” You grin — you love watching him fold for you like this, as blood rushes to his cheeks and cock, he’s nearly panting as you palm him, and it’s such a pretty cock — was there anything about him that wasn’t unfairly perfect? “Fuck, I forgot how big you were - gonna split me in half, aren’t you?” But you’re going much too slow for his taste, as your fingers tease him, smearing his pre-cum over his length, as you lick it from your fingers, “and you always taste so good,” 
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re toying with me,” he nearly growls, as you pull off his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin as you do.
“But you’re my favorite toy,” and your fingers return around his dick, squeezing lightly, and that’s his final straw. 
You don’t even realize your back is hitting the bed until you’re already pinned under him, and he’s smiling between your thighs now, “two can play at that game sweetheart,” and he kisses your inner thigh, “and I always win,” 
And he’s pulling down your panties in a moment, letting a reverent fuck leave his lips as he stares at your swollen lips, “So pretty,” and he noses at your inner thighs, before his teeth dig into your sensitive skin, and your breath stutters, “and all for me,” 
“Satoru-“ and his fingers are parting your folds, making your hips jump at his touch, and he can’t have that can he? And he’s pinning your hips, as he stares at your pretty swollen folds, “stop teasing-“ 
“Like you stopped teasing me, Princess?” He raises an eyebrow, but he slips a finger inside, “but I’ll be nice, unlike you,” and he’s pumping his finger knuckle deep, slipping into places you could never reach yourself, “fuck, you’re practically swallowing my finger,” and a second finger is stuffed inside you, “can’t wait to feel this pussy around my cock,” and you’re shaking when he finally leans down to press a kiss to your pretty clit. 
“S-satoru,” you moan, a mess, as he fucks your walls hard with his fingers, the lewd squelching ringing in your ears, as he continued to pry apart your thighs, leaning down to press his lips to your clit again. 
And you whimper, before moaning, as he sucks at it, lapping at your pussy, as he continued to fuck you, “so sweet when you’re all fucked out, keep making those pretty noises, sweetheart,”
And you have no choice when his tongue slips in the stead of his fingers, fingers choosing to play and pinch your clit, a symphony of moans and whines leaving your throat, as you move to cover your face. 
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he coos, kissing your pussy as he speaks, “you’re going to make me self-conscious and we wouldn’t want that, would we baby?” And his words are not helping as he redoubles his efforts, pausing only to speak, as his hands sneak under your thighs to press you impossibly closer to his mouth, intent on devouring you, “look at me - wanna see my pretty baby’s face when she falls apart for me,” 
And you look, his face smeared with your cum, lips glossy and nearly dripping with it, as he grins, before feasting on you again, makes you fall apart as he wants, “cum in my mouth,” he murmurs, “wanna fucking live in his pussy,” 
And you’re coming undone, fast and hard, but he doesn’t seem to care, slurping and sucking every drop you bestow upon him, “I know where I got my sweet tooth now,” and he’s still eating you through your orgasm, as you shudder and shiver from his touch. 
“Fuck, ‘Toru, I swear to god-“
“I’m right here baby, you don’t have to swear your allegiance to me,” and he’s licking his fingers clean, making a show of it, “pretty sure you did that when you screamed my name when you came,” 
“You fucker,” and he’s giving you lazy kisses again, trying to bring you down from your high, just to bring you back up again, and you’re palming his erection now, “need you,” 
“What was that?” And he’s so smarmy, it makes you want to slap him or kiss him or possibly both, “say it again,” 
And then you squeeze his dick, making him grunt, “I said I need you,” and you’re brushing the head of his cock against your folds, again and again, making him groan, “any questions sensei?” You add mockingly, but that only serves to make him grin wider. 
“So fuckin’ eager for me to split you open with my dick huh, Princess?” His pre-cum dripping onto your fucked out pussy, “can’t go a second without being filled by me? I know sweetheart, I hit all the spots you can’t reach with your fingers right? Bet all those others can’t reach them either,” and he’s kissing you, hard, as he presses his cock into you, bumping against you, but never slipping in, “then I’ll just have to spoil you tonight, won’t I?” He notches himself against your slit, his traitorous mouth leaning down to suck at your tit before he finally eases into you. 
And you forgot just how big he was, as he finally sinks into you, his cock parting your folds, impatient as ever as he sinks slowly at first and than all at once, “you can still take me, and you always take me so well,” he groans, as your walls squeeze him, nearly making him cum right there, “you were made for me, made to fuck me,” he’s panting now, as you’re ready to fall apart under him. 
“Then fuck me,” and he does just that - no semblance of self-control left - not that he had much to begin with. Not when it came to you.  
He loves hearing you moan his name, over and over, as he begins to thrust in earnest, hips slapping against yours, making you gasp and your head roll back, “Satoru, Satoru, fuck-“ 
“Come on baby you can take it, look at how good you’re taking me, such a good girl,” and he grasps your chin making you look at where your bodies met, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease, a white ring of your cum around its base, “that’s it, c’mon, you make me feel so fucking good,” 
And then he’s slipping out of you, as you whines but now he’s pulled you into his lap, “baby, I can’t be doing all the work, now can I?” 
His thighs are sticky and wet with your fluids, as you start to ride him, your thighs meeting his with rough snaps, “So fucking gorgeous,” he groans, leaning in to suck at your tits again, “I’ll never get sick of this view, need to fuck you like this again,” and he meets you with a brutal thrust of his hips as he grasps your waist that brushes against places you only could dream to touch, and he grins as your head lolls back, “there is it, just where I left it, Princess,” 
“S’close, ‘Toru, I can’t-“ you murmur, as he cups your cheek and presses a hot kiss to your lips. 
“Then cum for me on my dick like a good little slut, and scream for me, make sure my neighbors know how good this cock is,” and he’s grasping your waist, fucking tou hard as you cum around his cock, and you scream his name as you do, but he fucks you through your orgasm, grunting and groaning. Your release slips down his dick as you squeeze him, “good fucking girl,” He’s close too - his thrusts becoming deeper and sloppy, “where you want me to cum?” 
And your legs are wrapping around his waist, “Fill me, want it inside,” and Satoru can't help but moans your name. 
He's grunting, sloppily thrusting now -- he's so close, your walls clamping down again and again, “Want me to breed you, sweetheart,” he grunts, bottoming out, “then let me fill you, fuck-“ he moans as he cums, spurting his hot, thick cum inside your walls, and you’re nearly keening against him, but he holds you steady with his fingers against your hips, nails digging crescents into your skin, “gotta make every drop count, now don’t we, love?” As he slowly pumps into you, pushing it deeper, “now what’d people say when you get pregnant by your ex? Hm? Wanna baby trap me, princess? You don’t have to do that to get me to stay,” 
And he’s still inside you as he stills, cupping your chin, “I don’t huh?” You tilt your head, as he presses a kiss to your lips, “then why did you leave in the first place?” 
His grin twists into a frown, sighing, as he can't meet your gaze now, “Did you really want to be with me?” And you open your mouth, “being with me is as good as placing a target on your back, and I’m not always going to here to help-“ 
You glare at him, “I don’t need you to protect me—"
“Except the one time you do,” he says softly, “and then what? I could deal with losing you, but I don't ever want to have to mourn you," his words are quiet, "we’ve both lost too much-" and his voice wavers, “I didn’t want you to be another thing I lost, but you were anyway,” and he gives a small chuckle, “I didn’t wanna end up alone, but without you, I’m still alone,” he gives a pitiful smile, “fitting for the strongest, huh?” 
You hold his cheeks, forcing him to look at you, “You don’t have to be alone. I can’t make promises that I’ll be okay - that would be a pretty shit promise to make, we both know that, but,” you kiss his lips sweetly, the corners of his lips lifting at your taste, “I can promise I’ll do my best to live, I’ll do my best to support you, I’ll do my best to love you - if you can promise to do the same,”
And his lips crack into a grin, “Love, huh?” 
“You’ve grown on me,” you tease, but he can’t let that stand. And he shifts his hips, making you moan, as he lays you down, slipping out of you, to smear his cockhead down your folds, watching you convulse around nothing as his cum slips out of you, “Satoru—fuck-“ and his fingers are scooping the liquid back inside, pushing it back in, “what are you doing?” you grumble, half annoyed, half moaning. 
And he only smiles, “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we princess?” And he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, before reaching for his phone, “now let me take a picture — gotta let Nanami know someone appreciated my drawing.” 
“You send that picture, and we won’t need to worry about me surviving anymore, because I’ll have killed you,” and he rolls his eyes, snapping the picture anyway. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t send him this picture, that’s for my personal use,” he winks as he slips his fingers from you, licking your mixed releases from his digits, “but I’ll let him know how much you enjoyed it,” and he’s leaning over you again, “and how much you will again,” 
“And every night?” You smile up at him, pulling him closer. 
And he replies before you pull him into another kiss, “Only way to shut me up.” 
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