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Drabble/Fic idea based on The Apparition by Sleep Token I will probably never write in the tags 😋👍🏼
#so it’s a soulmate AND reincarnation AU#I assume Bakugo bc I’m on that bkg brain rot#but you were soul mates in your past life#maybe pro heroes together??#and you die together in an attack#you both get reincarnated but bkg is born several years before you#maybe you’re born with a birth mark where you/he was fatally injured in your past lives?#somehow bkg dies before you ever meet him in your new life#and he politely starts haunting you bc he’s not ready to move on and he knows you have something to do with it#reincarnation amnesia y’know?#god I should have just made this into the post lmao#too late now#so you start seeing flashes of blonde hair and red eyes when you KNOW no one else is around#and your birthmark hurts like an old wound#idk I’m rambling but if you’ve heard the song it would make some sense lol#fanfic ideas#drabble ideas
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roses [j.jh]
MDNI, 18+
SUMMARY | think i should text my ex (fwb)? what happens when jaehyun sees his ex-fwb with another guy?
PAIRING | ex fwb!jaehyun x afab!reader (with reader x jungwoo)
CONTENT | ex fwb to ?, college!au, unprotected sex (on pills), oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, creampie. (probably more that i missed but its just smut)
WORDS | 4.3k
A/N | im so bad at giving summaries but it’s basically roses by jaehyun :D not proofread
you knew how to get under jaehyun’s skin. well, not on purpose, but he sure as hell was sending daggers in your direction as he saw you all cozied up with a tall blond-haired guy at his frat party. jaehyun scoffed as he took a sip out of the red cup in his hand. how dare you bring a boy into his house in the first place.
jaehyun’s gaze never left you as you laughed at something the french fry guy said. “bet it’s not even funny.” he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes as you placed your hand on the guy’s arm.
“dude, what is the matter with you?” mark pulled him out of his trance, hitting him lightly on the arm. his best friend followed his gaze and smirked when he figured out what he was so worked up about. “isn’t that y/n? didn’t you use to date her?”
“we did not date.” jaehyun moved his sight to glare at the younger boy instead. “i could care less about her.”
“couldn’t.” mark corrected him with a cheeky smile, “but you already knew that, so i’m guessing you do care a tiny bit.”
you and jaehyun met at university when you were freshmen. you accidentally walked into the wrong room at your first college party when a certain someone was changing out his clothes and flashed you with his penis on your first week. you screamed and ran as fast as you could. moments later, mystery penis guy found you amidst the crowd and apologized profoundly, which left you confused because you were so sure you should be the one apologizing. nonetheless, you both decided to put it behind you and start fresh.
“jaehyun.” mystery penis guy introduced himself to you while handing you a red cup that was most likely filled with booze.
“y/n.” you accepted his cup, inspecting it. “you’re not trying to drug me because i saw your dick, right?”
jaehyun laughed, and you smiled as he shook his head. that was the beginning of a new friendship.
until during your sophomore year, you were drunk crying over your ex, and you had jaehyun over because you needed a friend. he was awkwardly trying to pat your back while trying to keep a distance between the two of you. don’t get him wrong, he found you attractive as fuck, and he would fuck you the moment you let him. but he was somehow scared to ruin the year-long friendship between the two of you, so he never acted on what his dick and heart told him to.
this night was different, though; you were vulnerable and needed to feel better about yourself. “he said i couldn’t suck dick properly!” you whined, which made jaehyun freeze. “who breaks up with someone over that!”
jaehyun had to fight every bone in his body not to jump on you and kiss the living hell out of you. he felt apologetic that you were crying over a dumbass, but he couldn’t help but find you cute. your cheeks flushed, makeup messy with tears. you looked perfect. “i think that’s what they call an ick.” he tried lightening up the mood, but this just made you glare at him.
“i’ll bite your dick off.” you punched his arm, which did little to no damage.
“ouch, is that what you did while you were sucking his?” he rubbed his arm, but had the biggest smile on his face.
“you’re not helping!” you covered your face with your hands.
jaehyun didn’t know what possessed him then; he spoke without thinking about his words. “i could teach you a thing or two about giving…” he immediately regretted what he was offering. he coughed before ending his sentence, looking everywhere around the room but at you. he let his dick do the talking as if you were stupid enough to agree–
“teach me.”
needless to say, you knew how to suck dick (even a few pointers on how to kiss and fuck) that night.
jaehyun tried to pull his eyes away from you as you whispered something in the guy’s ear before disappearing into the crowd and heading upstairs. now he was frustrated. you ended your year-long arrangement just merely two weeks ago, and you have already found someone new? you just moved on and had enough. god, he sounded so pathetic; he got it bad.
-
you lay in bed that night, chewing on your lip as you scrolled through your phone. you just left the party an hour ago after sleeping with another man. you felt weird. like what you did was wrong, but you couldn’t exactly point out why.
as if the universe decided to play tricks on you, your phone vibrated in your hand. the contact “PLS DONT ANSWER” on full display. you glanced at the time to see it was 2 am. you ran your fingers through your hair and sighed. closing your eyes, your finger swiped to answer the call.
“you answered?” his voice echoing through the phone, surprised you picked up the phone.
“don’t make me regret it.”
“i saw you today.”
“… okay?” you knew he saw you. in fact, you made sure he saw you with jungwoo, aka the guy you fucked an hour ago.
“with another guy.” mission success. you were being petty, but you were doing it for a reason (so you convinced yourself).
the very reason you broke off your arrangement with jaehyun was because you saw him with another girl’s tongue down his throat in a not-very-discrete section in the library two weeks ago. you could tell he enjoyed it by the way his hands were firmly gripping her ass. the sight made you sick to your stomach.
your agreement was strictly for physical reasons — you fucked, nothing more and nothing less. you were good friends who were having fantastic sex.
you don't know why the thought of him sleeping with other girls upset you. you both agreed to keep it physical. no strings attached, especially since you're both juniors and have to focus on finishing your degrees. yet why did it bother you he was out kissing girls?
“congrats, you can see.” you cringed at your attempt to seem like a cool girl.
“cut the bullshit, y/n.” jaehyun rolled his eyes even though you couldn’t see him. “you broke up with me, then you slept with somebody else just two weeks after?”
“i wasn’t aware we had a relationship that even allowed us to break up.” you opened your eyes. realizing how long you last talked to jaehyun, you hated to admit that you missed the sound of his voice.
“called it off, ghosted—whatever you call it! you know what i mean.”
“i did not ghost you.” practically mumbling against the phone.
“a text saying “let's stop this” is not an explanation, y/n. plus, that's besides that point!”
“i really don't want to talk about this right now, jaehyun.”
“fine. meet me tomorrow at the café you like at 2 pm.” and with that, he hung up on you.
-
jaehyun sat in an easy-to-spot area at the café you loved. how did he know? because you used to have little study dates in this very coffee shop (if you could even call it a date). his heart was beating out of his chest. he didn’t know why his heart was beating so fast while he anticipated your presence. maybe he drank too much caffeine? he shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. he wanted to believe that was the reason why he could not sit still.
the tiny bell at the front door rang, indicating a new customer. the sound made jaehyun whip his head up. there you were. a brown coat hugging your body, your hair in one of those clamps that held it up neatly. you were in the most basic clothes, yet you looked so beautiful. jaehyun smiled at the sight of you until he saw a dozen roses you had in your hands, the smile was replaced with a slight frown.
“hi, jae.” you breathed out, taking a seat on the empty spot in front of him. placing your belongings on the table, which included the bouquet that jaehyun was glaring at.
“aww, y/n, you didn’t have to.” jaehyun took the bouquet from the table to inspect it, trying to catch a glimpse of a card with the sender's name on it.
“shut up.” you mumbled, snatching it from him. cheeks heating up, you avoided his gaze.
“i’m assuming it's from lover boy last night?” jaehyun huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. he looked absolutely silly right now.
“it’s none of your business.” you fought back. leaning against your seat, “why’d you want to see me anyway?”
“i didn’t.” he lied through his teeth, but you didn’t know that. “i just think i deserve some kind of explanation as to why our,” he paused to think how he would label your relationship, “friendship ended.”
“you’re so annoying.” glaring at him, you contemplated why you even showed up in the first place.
“you love me.” he grinned at you, flashing his damned dimples, to which you let out a snort. “was he better than me?”
“very much.” you smiled as he lost his grin. “bigger too.”
“we’re telling lies now?” jaehyun raised his eyebrow. “you said your shit ex had a big dick, too, so i don't really trust your judgment.” you chewed your lip in annoyance, wanting to slap his irritatingly beautiful face.
“asshole.”
-
it had been a week since your last interaction with jaehyun. your little café meet-up didn’t lead to anything as you still refused to tell him why you no longer wanted to see him. you would be lying if you said you had not thought of him at all. you missed him.
in the midst of doing your university work, your phone buzzed, a text message popping up on the screen.
PLS DONT ANSWER: are u awake
you stared at the message, with no intention of replying.
PLS DONT ANSWER: busy fucking french fry boy?
PLS DONT ANSWER: what position he got u in
you rolled your eyes at his last message. truth be told, jungwoo gave you the flowers as an apology. he apologized for sleeping with you that day, telling you how he was drunk and not over his ex, and he hoped that you would not take it the wrong way. you felt incredibly stupid and annoyed at how even in your attempt to forget jaehyun, you still failed.
the phone rang a few seconds later, but this time, you didn’t pick up. not knowing what to say to him. missing the call, he didn’t send anything after, making your heart sink.
you knew what you signed up for when you agreed to keep things physical between the two of you. although there were moments when it would seem like you two were a couple, you knew he would never like you like that. he was jeong fucking jaehyun for fucks sake. he could have any girl he looked at if he wanted to. you hear how women talk about him in the bathrooms, most of them very lewd. everyone wanted a taste of him. you couldn't blame them, even after having a taste of him, you still craved and came back for more.
a knock on your apartment door pulled you out of your trance. curious, you stood up to open it. there at your door was one very soaked jaehyun with a flower–that looked like it was picked out of a bush–in hand. his white shirt sticking to his chest, giving you a very slight peek of his toned body which gave you flashbacks to the nights you would spend together.
“jaehyun,” raising a brow, “why are you soaking wet?” you were sure there was not any weather forecast about rain tonight.
“it was raining and–” jaehyun let out, catching his breath, “wanted to see you.” pushing what looked like a rose in your direction. “here.”
eyeing the rose, you carefully scanned his face as you took it from his hand. you stepped aside to let him in your apartment. he stepped inside, careful of spreading rainwater all over your place. “stay here, i’ll get you something dry.” turning away from him, you walked towards your bedroom with your thoughts all over the place. why was he here? what was this rose about? and why did he look so fucking hot?
with a clean sweatshirt (that you were pretty sure was his) in hand, you walked back into the living room where you were greeted by jaehyun’s bare back faced to you as he looked at the pictures you had hung around. you bit your lip at the sight. feeling sparks shoot throughout your body.
you cleared your throat, which made jaehyun spin around to face you, shooting you a smile. you extended your arm to hand him the sweater, but he grabbed your arm instead and pulled your body against his. he was hugging you. you froze in place as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, feeling him inhale against your skin.
“missed you.” feeling him mumble against your skin, “it was killing me knowing there’s someone out there buying you roses.”
“jaehyun, are you drunk?” placing your hands against his bare chest to push him away and look him in the eyes.
he shook his head, “i’m not. i’m serious, y/n.” he took a step closer to you, “why do you not want me anymore?” his breath fanning on you, lips dangerously close to yours, making you feel hazy.
“you know that’s not true.” your voice was so tiny he barely heard what you said. his hands landed on your waist, rubbing on it softly.
“tell me what i did wrong, please.” his voice soft.
“jaehyun..” you warned, feeling him close the gap between the two of you, to which you shut your eyes as you waited for the soft feeling of his lips. but it never came, so you opened your eyes to see him staring at you with a teasing smile on his lips. you glared at him, scoffing. you pushed him away, chucking the sweater at him before retreating and heading to your bedroom.
you heard him call out for you. feeling your cheeks burn from embarrassment. you were about to slam the door behind you, but his strength prevented you from doing so.
“go home, jaehyun.” you sternly said, wanting to bury yourself under the covers. you walked towards the bed, sitting on the edge.
“if you wanted a kiss that bad, you could have just asked.” jaehyun welcomed himself into your room. standing a few feet away from you, this time with the sweater you gave him on your body. he has been in your room plenty of times, so he has grown very familiar with where you keep everything.
“maybe i’ll ask jungwoo instead.” lie. but he doesn’t know that. crossing your arms against your chest. not missing the way his eyes fell on your exposed chest. you were wearing a tiny tank top and lounge shorts since you were just planning on studying all night.
“not fucking funny.” he walked over to you, stopping in between your legs before cupping your face with his hand. “maybe i should remind you who you belong to.” his words making you dizzy.
“i don’t belong to anyone.” you reminded him which made his eyes turn dark; he licked his lips, scanning your face. a sadistic grin forming on his face. he could tell you were trying to convince yourself of what you said, too.
“i thought you were supposed to be smart, princess.” he said, leaning down and planting his lips on yours. the kiss was hungry with the intention of reminding you of what you have been missing. you reciprocated his passion, arms flying to wrap around his neck. his tongue glided over your bottom lip before pushing it into your mouth, exploring your mouth, making you moan lightly. his other hand sneaked down to your clothed core and cupped it, which made you gasp and pull away from the kiss. “look at you, already so wet, and i haven’t even done anything.”
“yeah, and if you don’t do anything about it soon, you know who i’ll call.” teasing him, but he wasn’t having any of it. he grabbed you by your thighs, which you instinctively wrapped around his waist. he laid you down on the bed, your head against your pillows. in a swift motion, your shirt and shorts were pulled away from your body and discarded somewhere in the room.
“I can’t believe you let that asshole touch what’s mine.” jaehyun groaned once he took in the mouthwatering sight in front of him. his intense gaze made you lose all your tough facade, wanting nothing more than to be engulfed by him. he climbed in between your legs, leaning down to kiss you once again, but this time, it was more passion than hunger, savoring your taste.
“i’m not yours.” you whispered against his lips, and you could tell he had enough of your teasing.
“i’ll make you want to be mine.” kissing your jaw, leading down to your neck (making sure to suck on the spot he knew you loved), your chest before engulfing your nipple with his mouth. you whimpered as he sucked on the sensitive bud, his other hand circling the other nub with his thumb and index finger. his tongue exploring every inch of your tits, making you squirm under his touch. your hand flew up to his hair, lightly tugging on it, feeling the slickness from the rain. he pulled away from your chest after flicking his tongue against your nipple one last time. he sat up, grabbing the hem of his sweater and pulling it off him.
you bit your lip at the sight of his toned chest that you absolutely loved. you loved that he took care of himself in every way, especially his body. catching your gaze, he smirked. he, too, loved his own body.
jaehyun pressed a quick kiss on your lips before he went down on your body. your pussy in his face, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pressing soft wet kisses against your skin. “god, you smell fucking amazing.”
“jaehyun.” you cried out as he licked your wet folds. your hips thrusting, trying to get more, but his arms held you down. pressing a tiny kiss on your clit, his tongue darted out, licking your entrance, lapping around the area. moans spilling from your lips as he fucked you with his tongue. his hand sneaking around to rub your clit, which made you curse his name. “oh my god!” arching your back at the sudden sensation.
“mine.” jaehyun grunted against your pussy, retracting his arm from your thigh, circling around to glide his fingers up and down your folds. “my pussy.” he said before inserting two fingers into your hole, making you gasp. his fingers easily slide in and out of you due to your wetness. the entire room fills up with the sounds of your pussy squelching as he continued to finger you, curling his fingers ever so often, which drove you insane. he attached his lips to your clit, sucking on the sensitive nerve as he continued the motions with his fingers.
“fuck, jaehyun, i can’t–” you barely got the words out as he inserted a third finger, making you gasp, and grip the sheets beneath you. your legs attempted to close but his grip on it prevented you from doing so. you felt the familiar coil gather in your stomach.
“say it, say you’re mine, then i’ll let you cum.” his breath fanning against you, fastening his pace as he fucks you with his fingers.
“mhm, fuck! i’m yours, jae.” your hips bucked upwards as you felt your orgasm coming. “please, let me cum.”
“see, was that so hard?” jaehyun rubbed your clit with his thumb, pushing you over the edge. you screamed out his name, body trembling as you came hard on his fingers. the sight of you arching your back went directly to his dick, hardening against his pants. he pulled his fingers out easily, covered in your cum. he sat up, bringing his fingers to his mouth. “so sweet, so pretty.” licking his creamy fingers clean.
chest heaving as you tried to recover from your high. you met jaehyun’s gaze, seeing him already staring at you. your eyes darted down, seeing his cock begging to be free from his jeans. arm extending, you palmed him through his jeans, hips bucking to meet your touch. “take it off.”
“eager to finally get good dick?” jaehyun smirked, undoing the buttons of his pants.
“get out.”
“taking my pants off right now.” he slid out of his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and bouncing off his stomach. your mouth watering at the sight. your hand reached out to grab his shaft, pumping it before gliding your fingers over the slit, spreading the precum that was leaking out. “fuck, baby.” he moaned, rutting his hips to meet your hand. “you look so good holding my cock.”
“i’d look even better when you finally fuck me with it.” frustration crept up your voice which made him chuckle. he grabbed hold of your hand, holding your wrists above your head while his other hand guided his cock towards your entrance.
“no one will fuck you as good as i do.” ramming his cock into you without warning. the sudden contact made you yelp, wanting to grab hold of him, but his grip on your wrist prevented your movement. “what a dirty little slut. remember, this fucking pussy is mine.” his thrusts were intense, his words laced with venom as he relentlessly fucked your cunt. you could barely let out your words as your breath kept getting knocked out of you.
“o-oh god, jae.” jaehyun was absolutely losing it at the sight of you crumbling beneath him. the pretty noises that were coming out of your mouth were like music to him. sweat trickled down your body as he increased his pace. he let go of your wrists, and your hands flew to grip his shoulders. he grabbed your thighs, pushing them close to your chest. his cock perfectly hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.
“you feel so fucking good.” his hands reached out to pinch your nipples, making you curse out his name. “you take my cock so fucking well.” you rolled your hips out to meet his pace, leggings shaking from him as he hit all the right spots. your reactions were fueling him even more; he pulled his cock out entirely before slamming it back into your pussy. he gripped your waist as your back arched from the intense sensation, moans getting louder. “you like that, huh? remember who owns you, pretty girl. not that fucking jungwoo, me.”
tears sprang to your eyes from the immense pleasure. not being able to speak coherently, you nodded at his words. nails digging into his shoulder blades as you felt your second orgasm forming in your abdomen. he leaned down, burying his head in your neck, placing kisses on your skin as he continued to rock his hips into you. “i’m so close.” you managed to moan out, legs wrapping around his waist, wanting to be as close to him as possible.
“shit,” jaehyun pulled away from your neck, watching as your tits bounce from his trust, his hand snaked up your clit, rubbing it which built up the pressure in your stomach even more. “cum for me, baby.” his thrusts getting sloppy as he felt his own orgasm creep up.
“oh my god!” you cried out as your insides exploded from pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock as you came.
the feeling of your pussy tightening around his cock brought his orgasm out. his warm cum leaking inside you. “so fucking beautiful.” he groaned, pulling his cock out. your mixed cum spilling out of you. he collapsed beside you.
breaths heavy, you closed your eyelids, wanting to doze off for the night, feeling jaehyun’s arms wrap around you. peeking at him, but his eyes were already trained on you.
“hi.” you whispered.
“be mine.” he mumbled, pulling your body close to him.
“what?” looking at him in disbelief.
“be mine, y/n, be my girlfriend.” he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. you knew jaehyun was not one to do relationships. this was one of the reasons why you agreed to keep it physical in the first place. hearing the word girlfriend from his mouth was indeed a new experience, especially since he was saying it to you.
“is my pussy that good?” you giggled.
“yes.” he placed a kiss on your forehead, “and i want to be yours. only yours, and i want you to only be mine.”
“will you stop making out with other girls in the library if i say yes?”
“in the libra–? is that why you left!” he looked at you in shock, “i’m so sorry, i didn’t know you saw that. i promise you she meant nothing to me. i don’t even know her name.”
“wow, that makes me feel so better.” sarcasm rolling off your tongue.
“what about you and that blond bitch! who does he think he is giving you flowers. i fucking hate him.” he sulked, making you snort and laugh. “not funny. i cried, true story.”
so you explained to him what the reason behind the flowers was. his cocky ass got even more cocky when you admitted that it was your attempt to forget him. but you had the last laugh when you found out that even his friends could see that he was miserable without you. you eventually did give him an answer to his previous question, you indeed wanted to be his.
#jeong jaehyun#nct 127#nct#jung jaehyun#jaehyun imagines#nct imagines#jaehyun smut#nct smut#jaehyun x reader#nct x reader#kim jungwoo#mark lee
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𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦
ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru
content warnings college au, heavy bullying, gaslighting, noncon, dubcon, implied sexual assault, allusions to depression/suicide, alcohol consumption, drinking, implied drugging, fatphobia, overdosing, naoya zen'in is an asshole, humiliation, threats, minor oc character. dead dove do not eat.
notes this might come as disappointing since some of you wanting revenge what this two idiots had done to reader. their are some matters that i think is too complicated and impossible so i came with this way as the breaking point where reader starts to retaliate/plan her revenge. will get to it later and to that anon, who asked for the revenge, i will get once i start to finish this one up. please read the warnings, i don't want someone bitching in the comments telling me that the contents above is uncool. it truly is not cool. that's why it have warnings. it is on a fictional context. do read the warnings before continuing. also do let me know of what you think of this chapter.
read part one, here. two here.
SERIES MASTERLIST
synopsis you let them take and take what they can from you. you were a nobody after all but everybody have their breaking point.
the world is a blur to you. colors of red and blue dances in your vision while voices whispers to you. what's happening? you can't move. it's like your body were made of lead. you can't understand what they were saying. multiple faces stares at you, are you dead? is this what you see when people surround you while they lower your casket. is it? you hope it was, cause you didn't plan on living anymore. there's nothing worth moving forward and the world around you turns black.
there's a beep and then silence. you hear before you see and when you opened your eyes, all you can see is a bright light above you. it took you minutes to adjust your vision and realize where you are. you're in a hospital. laying on a bed and you started to get irritated at your oxygen mask. you tug at it. getting frustrated why it keeps coming back at you before someone put their hand on it. completely removing it and there you breath. your sight darted to the hand who helped you until your sight travels to his arms and then to his face. a brief recognition flashes through you.
“nanami?” you call his name unsure but you know it was definitely him. it was hard to mistake him for someone. there's his blonde hair, neatly parted. his pristine beige sweater paired a dark colored trouser, not a crinkle in sight and his signature silver watch in his wrist. you met him once at the literature club and decided you were going to be there too not until it changed due to some circumstances. his lips parted but before he can speak, a cheery voice interrupted him.
“she's awake!?” said haibara, you also knew him since he and nanami were always together. seeing your confused state, his voice died down. “what happened?” you asked them and they exchanged looks before haibara answers you.
“we found you passed out in the lawn. thought you were drunk but you weren't breathing.” haibara's voice was soft while he slowly breaks down the reason why you ended up here.
a doctor comes inside to your room before haibara can finish. you took note of her pristine white coat with her surname embroidered on it. clicking her pen and whipping out her clipboard she pulled out of nowhere. you were distracted by it. the doctor's eyes is on you now and you began to frown.
the doctor coughs clearing her throat before speaking. “hello, ms. (y/n). i'm glad you're awake now.” noticing your confused expression she pauses began answering the question. “to answer your question you were unconscious for two days and is brought for possible assault. we need your con—”
“no!”
“ms. it would help for you t—”
“you heard me!? i said no!” you scream at the doctor and your tears appeared in your eyes. you didn't realize you were screaming. nanami and haibara stand there in silence but the looks on their face said otherwise. concern painted in their faces and the doctor bows before leaving. looking at the men inside in your room to call her if you need anything.
cause if they would test you, they would find the remains of their sperm inside you and then report? who will believe you? it would be buried like the case of another girls like you who were too afraid nor fight their abusers. you don't find the point of that. they would twist the words out of you. it was easy to believe than you.
you curled up in bed and did the next thing you can. cry. now, you're in here and the events before this plays in your head in repeat.
“f-fuck”
satoru curses out while suguru bites your ear. your body like jello as they spilled their load for the nth that day. both of them lowered your body after fucking your brains out. warm up, they say. you shiver as you feel their cum running down your thighs. feeling disgusted as it began to stick after being exposed to the air. you grab the wipes but suguru stopped you, grabbing it from your hands and cleaning you up. fixing your skirt in the meantime.
“worth every penny.” suguru mutters. staring at the new clothes they bought for you. a baby blue corseted puff-sleeved, square neck top matched with a black skirt that rests on your mid thigh is what they forced you to wear. it feels tight. intentionally buying it one size smaller than you usually wore and it more feel you like a stuffed sausage rather a comfortable piece of clothing. you can't say no to what they wanted. you're a bit of grateful that they allowed you to wear your white sneakers rather than those kitten heels that would put your feet in blisters.
satoru's fingers brushes through the expanse of your exposed flesh. playing with the small bow in your top. sighing, “suguru, can we have more with (y/n)-chan?” his best friend chuckles at him. “idiot, we're already running late, after that we can.” satoru pouts. “tch, party pooper.” he ignores gojo and moves his attention to you.
“smile, this is your first real party. you're going to enjoy this.” suguru lifts your chin up with his finger and you obediently nodded. “ditch and you know what will happen.” he warns.
it was a bad idea. the moment you stood in the front door. the party was already in motion. you can hear the people inside shouting profanities and booming music mixed with already drunk frat members and student bodies. this was never really your crowd and when you were shoved inside with gojo and geto you were done and you already felt like crying. you look at the duo in front of you. they were already engaged in conversation with the other people here.
“gojo, you son of a bitch. you fucking came.” a guy hollered in the side and you see more of his features as he gets nearer. a snarl in his face with multiple piercings in his ear. a hair dyed blonde with green accents.
“ah, zen’in. wouldn't missed this just i could wipe that smirk off your face.” gojo mocks him and before the guy whom gojo called zen’in darts his sight to you. he raises a brow. “you two in fat bitches now?” pointing at you with hand cupping a plastic cup. gojo scoffs. “none of your business, zen'in.” glaring at him but he can't see that gojo's looking at him with dark glasses in the way. “then you two wouldn't mind me using her.” he suggested and suguru gaze darkens at him. “fuck off, naoya.” almost growling at naoya and the latter raises his hand in mock defeat before finding shit he could entertain himself with.
suguru scowls after naoya left, he looks at you like you just turned his mood sour. “you're an embarrassment.” he says and you bit your lip. keeping the tears at bay and you don't really want to embarrass yourself more at this party. “hey, hey suguru.” gojo taps his shoulder. “let loose, don't naoya get to you.” satoru glances at you. his blue eyes peering in his glasses. “you're right.” his stare cold at you. “find a seat, (y/n). you're embarrassing us now with you around.” you nod and you find yourself in a vacant corner. near to those already wasted or just plain chilling in the couch in front of you.
what did you expect? that were all sex talk or when they're in good mood. all those praise and compliments are just enough to feel you good about yourself for a bit and then they'll come destroying it. you stare at the view through the window. the night's particularly beautiful and peaceful except the place you're in and you're already missing the comfort of your bed.
you take a sip from your cup. a girl gave it you earlier saying that it's a special concoction that's only made at this parties. unsure you took it. not wanting to show ungratefulness to someone whose only been polite to you and she seems nice. you cringe slightly at the taste and the burning of the liquid as it flows down your throat. coughing you bring down the cup, not used to drinking.
your first time being a party, your eyes wander how your peers lost their selves in the influence of alcohol. some where dancing and mingling. talking like they were friends and you caught of others taking their business upstairs. you were kind of jealous how everyone are the life of the party and you sit here in your misery. you continue to observe everyone and you caught gojo. it's impossible to miss his tall stature and his white hair standing in the crowd. a petite woman is linked to him. her thin arms are wrapped around his neck and it was clear what they were doing. there they stood in the crowd. kissing.
“satoru.” gojo was taking a swig of his drink when a girl approached him. calling his name like they were lovers but it was more like an ex-fling. never had a relationship with her. she was only a temporary fun. “ah, sar—ah, sayuri.” he almost curses at himself. sayuri playfully pouts at him and there it is, the batting of eyelashes. “that's mean, satoru. you already forgot me.” her lips puckers before placing a hand in his chest. if this was a another party of gojo and he really liked this girl. he would have taken her upstairs. he caught you in the corner. you were like a child in awe at the people in this house. gojo almost chuckles at your cute antics but suppressed it and then a cruel idea pops in his mind. “missed me?” he asks sayuri and there was no answer needed as he crashes his lips to sayuri. his sight never leaving yours and when you caught him. he watch as your eyes widens, you lower your head in embarrassment before chugging that drink in your cup in one swig. he smirks in the kiss as he watches you wiped your tears away. he always liked making you cry.
you should have ditched this stupid party, even it means getting punished by those again. you were hurt. they always like to torture you. listen as they tell you how worthless and unlovable you are while they keep girls who are clearly not you by their side. those girls were perfectly fit for them to be seen in public and you were there for them to humiliate you. with your head lowered, you stifled a sob. wiping your tears with your hands shaking. they kept flowing and you kept messily wiping them and with that you slowly made your way outside. discreetly making your way through the door and you almost laugh. you were a nobody. you're not made for pretty things and this goddamn outfit you wore only added to your misery. you never felt beautiful and it looks ugly on you. wrapped a sausage with a different and it will still look the same.
no one noticed you leaving except for suguru's watchful gaze.
suguru finds his friend making out with a girl he definitely doesn't remember. suguru slaps his back and satoru broke the kiss. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and ignores the girl he was just making out seconds ago. suguru points the door where you left earlier. you're really looking for trouble and with that they left following you.
sayuri was stunned being shoved aside again. she was angry. how the fuck did you get those two's attention especially gojo's? she's beautiful. she's thin. academically excelling and you, a fat nobody bitch easily made those two fall for you. she knows they were just playing at you and sayuri could take it but being shoved again by satoru isn't what she expected tonight. she's going to be satoru's bride. it was decided from the start and satoru knows it. their fathers friends since their college days had made a decision to marry their son and daughter before they were even born and she did everything she can just to have satoru's attention but why can't she even get to look at her without her trying. it's your fault. it's your fucking fault! you deserve to die. you're fucking stupid for accepting that drink like you're a fucking saint and now, maybe you'll rethink your choices of making those your own and satoru will only have his eyes for her and only her.
weird. why are your hands sweating? it's cold. freezing cold. you know this temperature at night is normal but why are you freezing cold. hah, your vision's starting to get funny too. where there always stars in the sky? ahh, i want to go home. i wonder if akira's still awake. i didn't told her that i was going away tonight. my eyes hurt. you were crying. this was your thoughts as you walked away.
it was to easy to catch you with their long strides. satoru grabs your flabby arm angrily. “we told you, you don't leave without us. do you really want to get punished, (y/n)-chan?” his voice snarky as he digs his nails in your arms. it hurts. it really must really hurt but you're suddenly numb to feel anything. you just stare at him in confusion and then you hear voices. they were calling them to get back.
gojo scowls at them. your knees buckled and you sat in the ground. geto tsked. “we're going back to you later.” he says and they left you there and there were loud cheers. you lay there in the ground. numb and your vision fades away.
you blinked as you stare in the nothingness. that's what you last remembered. they left you there and you hoped you died. you can't take another bullshit of what they put you through. the tears continuously flows from your eyes and your blanket is wet with tears. haibara puts a comforting hand in your shoulder and you bursted crying again. this was the real kindness you felt since the accident. they didn't blame you. they only stayed and made sure you were resting enough. stranger they maybe or an acquaintance. you would never forget this kindness from them.
days. nights. you stayed in the hospital until you were cleared. you made nothing of what happened to you. putting it in the records as an allergic reaction in which the hospital agreed. just like that even when you're in the brink of death of what happened to you. if you took the procedure for assault. they would be guilty but it was days old now and bruises are left in your skin as nothing but reminders of the humiliation of what they did to you.
for now, you're going to cry. cry until there's nothing left to cry for.
#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#plus size reader#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#gojo x chubby reader#gojo x reader x geto#tw dark content#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#yandere jjk x reader#jjk x chubby reader#jjk#jjk angst
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i really like bartender sero.
he attempts to look cool and mansplain the bar to you on your first shift as if you haven’t been bartending for a year and he gets all embarrassed when you tell him you know how everything works.
you think he’s a little awkward- definitely hilarious but awkward nonetheless.
it’s not until customers start coming in that you see him come out of his shell-
he’s mixing drinks like a magician and he’s flirting with every pretty girl who orders some cute drink.
he’s got a charming smile on his face- the type you’ve only ever read about.
you watch him pour out shots for the two of you- if you weren’t so enamoured by him you’d refuse- your supposed to be working!- actually maybe one shot won’t hurt.
he’s kinda a sleaze- telling the same jokes and giving the same compliments to everyone. you recognize it’s an act.
he seems to enjoy- no revel in the attention he gets from the women in the bar- he’s in his element.
he glances over at you everytime he hears some guy make a pass at you- looking over protectively until he hears you also flirt back with the men ordering drinks. a wide smile flashes across his face as you take the man’s tip and place it in your bra- holy shit.
he thought you were attractive from the second you walked in to help him set up- the bar he worked at had been gaining popularity recently. when asked by his manager about hiring a new bartender sero made a joke about making it someone pretty.
pretty bartenders get more tips right? he watches the whole night as you take extra money from clearly horny men flirting with you- he watches as you don’t back down- he likes it.
you pour drinks just as well as he does- keeping up with him the entire night. he’s glad the new hire is capable.
he attempts to make small talk with you all night- asking about your school and your major- you have mic for english? maybe you share a class with one of his friends. (it’s denki btw, he’s been talking about the pretty girl in his english class for weeks.)
he likes the way you say his name- the tone your using- he can’t decipher if your using it for him or for the men at the bar.
you ask about him too, excited when he tells you he’s an art major- you knew it.
you brush up against him when you move in front of him to get a drink from the mini fridge next to him- he instinctively holds a hand on your waist as you bend down to get whatever it is your looking for-
standing back up slowly you eye him suspiciously. sending him a teasing look when he removes his hand from your waist- your trouble.
he tells you about his friends- his plans for after school and you do the same, he’s so easy to get along with.
as the night comes to an end he watches you pull the stack of cash from between your tits- he doesn’t miss how the entire kitchen staff watch it too- maybe he’s got some competition.
you’ve made more than him. a twinge of pride hits his chest- no one’s ever made more in tips than him.
you split it with the kitchen staff- smiling softly at them as you thank the cheery redhead for the fries he made you earlier.
he offers to walk you home- you tell him you already have a ride, thanking him for his offer- he’s real sweet.
the man who pics you up is blonde and loud- complaining about how he’s not doing this again. your making your own way home next shift as you only laugh at him.
he recognises him as monoma- he was shinso’s partner in his project last month. is that really who your dating?
you wave sero a quick goodbye before you get into the car- you look forward to seeing him the whole week.
he kinda slumps about you being taken for a couple days, he can’t really be surprised- your beautiful.
maybe he’ll make an effort to tone down on the flirting- but you seemed to reciprocate it so well?
his red haired friend asks about you too- “the pretty new bartender” he calls you.
your next shared shift happens the following thursday- your already there when he walks in, the bar completely set up.
you teasingly scold him for being late- embarrassed he thanks you for setting everything up.
it’s no biggie!- you say you guys can just chill for a while until people start coming in.
he brings up monoma- cursing himself for his awkward “how’s the boyfriend?���- god could he be anymore obvious.
you laugh in his face- erupting into a fit of giggles as you explain monoma is not your boyfriend- he’s a high school friend of yours who’s also dating your roommate/best friend.
you explain it’s only strictly ever been platonic- reaching for your room to message someone you have saved as kendo :3.
he watches you type out a message- remember that cute bartender at my new job? he thought me and neito were a thing i’m losing it. i hate ur man.
that cute bartender? that’s him right?
of course it’s him. who else would it be.
bartender sero spend the next couple weeks intensely flirting with you- it takes him weeks before he finally asks you out on a date.
he’s elated when you say yes.
this ended up so much longer than i thought it would be but im obsessed with sero i need him.
#denki is soo mad#mha x reader#bnha x reader#fanfiction#mha x female reader#mha fanfiction#sero thoughts#hanta sero x reader#sero#sero x reader#sero x you#sero hanta
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Spencer Reid x Shy bau!reader: trying to work together.
cw: drabble, fluff, fools in love, mutual pining, you’re both in love and you both can’t see it.
You’re stuck alone in a small kid’s bedroom, pink pillows and princess bedsheets, toys all over the room along with books thrown on the floor, a broken window and a missing plush, you’re supposed to be investigating, but it’s almost like the presence of each other is just too distracting.
The team knows how your two feel for each other even without words needed, the glances you give at each other, the mutual pining that’s been going for months, they’re a bunch of profilers, they see it, and you two are profilers too, you should see it. But you don’t, which led to being put together in cases more times than you could count.
“Reid.” You nod for him to come closer, he does, but not after fumbling with a small toy on his hands, almost letting it fall in the process before putting it on its rightful place on the little girl’s shelf.
When he’s next to you, hands clammy on his gloves, suddenly sweatier than they were, taking just a few more steps without realising and suddenly the room feels tight, you’re both really close to each other, he can see the light flush on your cheeks but brushes it off for another different reason, maybe you have allergies or something, who knows?
“I f — found this.” You smile briefly before raising the it up on his face, a glass shard with hints of blood.
Spencer nods, mostly staring at your face than anything else as you look at him expectantly, clearing his throat before speaking.
“Yeah it… has blood in it, that’s — that’s good for the case.” He pulls out a plastic ziplock bag, handing it to you so you can place it there, closing it for you in the process.
“Let’s just hope it’s the unsub’s.” You flash him another smile again, he nods one more time with you.
You both stay silent, he’s looking over at you and you at him, his body towers over yours, you can feel your heart beating consistently, he parts his lips as if he’s about to say something, but you’re both interrupted by Hotch calling you.
“We should — We should…” you point towards the door.
“Yeah, let’s just.. go.” He nods, you walk away in front of him, he follows behind you.
When you’re both back at the bau, you’re talking to JJ and he’s on the other side of the room, sitting in front of Morgan, staring at you, because he really doesn’t know how but he just can’t get you off his mind. He sips on his coffee, Derek notices where his gaze is thrown at, one of his eyebrow raises, it’s almost like you’re too blind to realise what he’s looking at.
“Pretty boy,” Morgan smirks, Spencer turns his gaze right to you. “Go to her.”
“What? No that’s… she’s talking to JJ, I’m just not gonna go to her and..” he’s quickly interrupted by the man in front of him, who’s clearly skeptical.
“Just go, man.” Derek grabs his mug of coffee, slowly pushing him to him before sitting down.
Spencer finds himself walking towards you, gulping nervously as you turn to him, his eyes going to yours before going down to your other features, the soft plush of your lips, your cheeks, the hair that frames your face.
“Hi.” He speaks, JJ raises an eyebrow, turning to you.
“Hey.” You respond, it’s simple, a single word just like him, the blonde understands and makes a move to leave you two.
“Would you… would you uhm..” he sighs, gripping on to the hem of his sweater. “Would you like to grab lunch with me?”
You turn red almost immediately, turning silent in the process, Spencer slightly frowns, waiting for your answer, it’s been just thirteen seconds and he’s already thinking this is a bad idea, fourteen and you’re still quiet, fifteen, he’s starting to think you don’t even like him and then finally seventeen until you answer.
“Yes, I —“ You chuckle, a bright smile showing from your lips. “I would love that.”
He smiles with you, extends his hand for you to grab it, you do, fingers locking with his in a heartwarming motion, taking slow steps to the exit.
“So, what would you like to eat?” You ask as you keep walking to the elevator.
“Whatever you want to.”
#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid au#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid icons#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid moodboard#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x plus size reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid cm#spencer reid fandom#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#mgg x reader#matthew gray gubler#mgg#matthew gray gubbler x reader#mgg fanfiction#mgg smut#chip taylor#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#𝜗𝜚: spencer reid#webbluvrsugar
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“who do you think you’re impressing with this stuff?”
“everyone. you wouldn’t understand.”
after adjusting his tie, pacifica looks up from dipper’s neck, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones. it’s the very first time she sees him without that lame pine tree cap on, so naturally, her eyes aim a little higher.
upon inspecting the brunette’s tufts of hair, she thinks to herself, he definitely doesn’t shower much, trying her best to not react too visibly to the accumulation of sweat. who knows, making him feel more awkward will just make things worse—after all, that suit must be stuffy enough as it is.
so, she remains indifferent as she continues inspecting his hair. despite a lack of showering, she thinks, he’s lucky to have fluffly hair… for a nerd, i guess.
before she backs off completely, walking back into the party to the ‘problem room’, pacifica notices something about dipper’s forehead. a blemish, perhaps? or maybe, a hint of acne.
acne makes sense for him, trying very hard to roll her eyes at the thought, obviously not the type to spare time for proper skin care, geez.
for all she knew, pacifica soon came to the conclusion that from all that sweat… the pores on his forehead being clogged thanks to his brown hair and that hat of his, she wouldn’t worry much about giving away some facial cleanser, mosturiser, and a trip to pick up some ointment (since she never needed any).
yet, before she could start on a list—first, she needed to know how bad it was.
pushing his hair back, dipper feels his whole body go stiff in a flash. what the heck was she doing?
“i don’t have time to give you a total makeover, but the least i can do is advise you on better personal hygiene.”
pacifica answers, which meant that dipper was definitely thinking out loud.
stupid! now that, he whines in thought, but refrains from physically face-palming himself.
when pacifica fully pushes dipper’s hair back, his forehead now bare to her, she observes it, her face remaining indifferent as she focuses on what lies before her. it’s… a big dipper?
behind that poker face of hers, she’s laughing inside; trying desperately to not let the corners of her lips twinge up and succumb to her amusement.
clearly embarrassed, dipper’s face flushes red, but finds himself staying still as he feels frozen under pacifica’s gaze. his doe-brown eyes are only glued to her diamond-hued irises, then glances a bit down to her glossed lips, awaiting the inevitable mean-girl cackle.
“so that’s why people call you dipper.” pacifica points out softly, showing the smallest hint of a grin on her face.
only, it isn’t malicious—dipper notes to himself. amused, yes, but not in a cruel, insulting way.
feeling awkward enough as it is, dipper breaks away from pacifica’s touch, backing himself away and heading towards the door; laughing inorganically.
“yeah, it’s just a dumb birthmark, started going by dipper so no one could tease me about that anymore, heh,” he tries to explain in a single breath, pulling out the third journal to avoid being further burned in her gaze, “anywaysweshouldgoaheadandfindtheroomwheretheghostwaslastspottedright?”
“i don’t think it’s dumb.”
the confession slips pass pacifica’s lips almost instantly, unable to stop the words from spewing out.
now, they’re both pink in the face, both in disbelief of the blonde’s admission.
#gravity falls#dipcifica#dipper pines#gf dipper#gf pacifica#pacifica northwest#dipper x pacifica#pacifica x dipper#storyboard#jenney writes
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Alessia Russo + reporter!gf, where Alessia is nonstop flirting with Reader on national television when you're trying to interview her
LIVE TO ALL — alessia russo
masterlist
you were a sports journalist for itv, travelling up and down the country as well as across the world each week to cover matches as well as try and get some of the players thoughts and opinions on the game.
today was the england lionesses vs sweden at home, at a sold out wembley. the game being tense but the girls pulling out a win by one goal and of course it being scored by non other than the alessia russo who just happened to be on your radar to interview.
normally it would take some convincing from some players to get them to do a quick post match interview, most players after a win wanting to celebrate and after a loss was when it was even harder to get players to interview as they just generally weren’t in the mood, understandably.
however luckily you wouldn’t have to do much convincing to get england’s star girl for an interview as she just so happened to also be your girlfriend. so one little bat of the eyelashes and a flash of the smile and the blonde would be right over.
so as your team handed her a mic as she walked over from the pitch hugging you tight as you sent her a loving smile trying your best to remain professional but the girl just looked so gorgeous even after running around a pitch for ninety minutes, her hair slicked back a few flyaways had came loose above her as well as her cheeks being slightly flushed pink probably from the amount of running she’d done.
“so alessia another sold out wembley for the lionesses, does the feeling ever change walking out and seeing that many people in the stadium?” you began the interview as alessia nodded along with what you were saying, her bottom lip inbetween her teeth as you watched as her eyes roamed your face as she held her eye contact with you instead of the camera like she was supposed to.
there was a slight pause between your question and the blonde starting her answer, “oh um it definitely helps to keep us motivated whilst we are playing- as we love seeing our fans pack out stadiums and creating as much noise as possible!”
“speaking of motivation, what helps to keep you fired up especially when your playing top teams like sweden?” you asked as you seen alessia giggle to herself, you being thankful for the fact that the camera can’t see the look your throwing alessia right now.
“well away from football there’s definitely someone who does that for me-” the blonde making direct eye contact with you as a smirk crept onto her face. you knew exactly what she was insinuating on and while the your relationship wasn’t exactly out there it wasn’t a big secret either fans definitely had their suspicions and alessia right now was definitely adding fuel to that fire.
she carried on, you sending the blonde another stern look that told her to behave, “but the staff at england as well as the girls we all do our part to ensure that’s we can all play to the best of our ability to ensure we get the result that we want as a team and as a nation” she smiled innocently as she finished awaiting your next question.
you began to explain the importance of the goal that alessia scored to start off the lionesses euro qualifying campaign while alessia well she was just staring at you, totally zoned out as she licked her lips. her eyes scanning your outfit as she imagined maybe what it would look like on the floor of your shared bedroom…
“and finally how does it feel to finally get your first goal at wembley especially the one that sealed the win for you guys” you finished with a quick smile, slightly kicking the blonde which wasn’t able to be seen by the camera which shook the blonde from her daydream.
“oh- um, wait i- sorry what was the question?” alessia flushed red with embarrassment as you were the one now with a smirk, knowing by her face she hadn’t been listening and also having a suspicion of why she hadn’t been but nevertheless repeating the question again for her.
“yeah, it’s always a good feeling to score at wembley makes it that little bit special but anything to help the team out”
“well thank you alessia and well done for tonight!” you applauded with a smile as alessia nodded, “thank you babe” alessia said so causally, you quickly spinning around mouth wide open as you eyes widened.
the interview already been finished as your team off-mic’d you both. alessia with a smirk which was widening on her face, you knew she had done that on purpose.
“i love you?” she whispered, as she looked at your less than pleased look on your face.
“your on thin ice miss russo!” you warned narrowing your eyes at the blonde as she slung her arm around your shoulders guiding you both down the tunnel as you knew she was rolling her eyes at your stern tone.
“hey! it’s not my fault the person who was interviewing me happened to be my really sexy, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend!”
#alessia russo#alessia russo x y/n#alessia russo x reader#woso community#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso blurbs#arsenal women#awfc#arsenal wfc#awfc imagine#lionesses#leah williamson x reader#england women#england wnt#england#enwoso
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—tell me i'm your national anthem
red, white, blue is in the sky. summer's in the air & baby, heaven's in your eyes. — yandere!homelander x collegestudent!reader ; ・:*✎✩
tw: breast-feeding, oedipus complex, controlling relationship
↳ read
John tightens his arms around your waist, his head resting comfortably atop your soft stomach as you run your fingers through his blond hair, humming him to sleep.
Then he breaks the silence. "You don't think I'm weak. Do you?"
"Of course not," you reply quietly.
His left hand tightens around your hip—so hard that it causes you to wince in pain, your fingers beginning to tremble.
"And you'd never leave me," he states with a tone of certainty.
"I'm right here," you say—a mere whisper—shooshing him.
He sits up then, leaning over you, smiling softly as his left hand trails up your chest, wrapping gently around your throat.
"Because if you ever did—think of leaving, that is—whoever you tried to move on with..."
He flashes a broad, toothy grin, shrugging playfully. "We'll, I’d just fucking kill him. I’d kill any man that looked at, or touched you, y'know?" He says in a sarcastic tone, his brow twitching as he tries to play off what he's just said as something casual.
But you know he means it.
He always means it...
You swallow nervously, his hold tightening.
"Because we belong together. I mean, you belong to me. You're my property."
You stare up at him with wide eyes, and his smile slowly begins to fade.
You nod then, your heart pounding rapidly, terrified of what may happen if you instead continue to lie there dumbly and without response.
He suddenly releases his hold, chuckling. "That's my good girl. Besides, once I got done taking care of business, you'd have nowhere else to go."
He leans down, brushing a kiss over your lips, then moving closer to your ear. "I’d make sure that I’d be the only thing you had left to run to," he says—his tone slightly threatening. "In all the fuckin' world."
He pauses. "Because I am your world."
He then lies back down, turning you on your side so he can press his face between your breasts, his eyes slowly closing as he cuddles against you.
"You can keep singing," he mumbles, now content, smiling softly to himself.
You sigh in irritation, removing the tea kettle from the burner and turning it off, ready to head toward the nursery.
John looks at you from over the back of the couch with a raised brow. "What's wrong?"
You slide your hand beneath your protruding belly, glancing down to your breasts, then up to him. "They're full. I’m going to pump. I’ll be right back."
He shoots up from his seat. "Let me help."
You pause, and he shifts nervously on his feet—he hadn't mean to just blurt it out like that, but it's also not as if you're not aware of him...enjoying it. He’d sucked on your breasts so much, even when he'd only just started coming to see you, that you'd been forced to regularly buy nipple cream.
He’d been waiting eagerly for this day: when you first began to lactate. He’s unsure that he's ever anticipated anything more.
He’ll have his own personal supply always ready and waiting for him now. Whether straight from his wife's breasts, or in bottles waiting for him in the fridge once he gets home.
From what he understands, so long as a woman keeps nursing, she'll continue to produce.
And he doesn’t intend for you to stop nursing him. Ever.
You turn around.
"C'mere," he says with a wave of his hand.
You pad over to him.
He nods toward the couch, and you seat yourself.
He takes his usual position then—already erect—his body spread out, head in your lap, your hand sliding comfortably underneath it.
You tug your shirt up, revealing your swollen breasts, and he swallows thickly—already salivating at the sight of them.
You take one in your other hand and he opens his mouth. You ease your nipple in and he begins to gently suck, his eyes fluttering closed, his left arm winding around your waist—pressed between you and the back of the sofa.
It’s late, and all is silent in your home, minus the sound of your husband nursing from your breast.
It makes your cheeks warm. It’s not that you don't enjoy it—being intimate with him like this, especially knowing how much it means to him—you do. But every other time...Well, there'd been no milk involved.
You’ve been acutely aware of his eagerness for this moment. Once you got pregnant, especially as your belly began to grow, his...predisposition with your breasts hit an all-time high.
Then came that night you'd climbed into his lap and finally told him that you knew what he wanted. And that you were okay with it—he didn't need to feel embarrassed or ashamed. You were his wife, and you wanted to give him that comfort that he never received as a child. It was something meaningful, just between the two of you.
And while he'd initially tried to brush it off, he'd loved you for it. For not ever using your body—your breasts—to manipulate him while you provided him faux-comfort while he continued to live in desperation for the true thing.
He begins to suck a bit harder and then accidentally pinches your nipple between his teeth. "Ow! Easy, baby."
His cock twitches, eyes shooting open at that exclamation as he stares up at you while you gaze down at him with love.
He starts sucking more gently and you smile softly.
"Thank you," you whisper.
In truth, he wants you to fucking say it again—or something to the same effect. But how the hell is he supposed to ask for that? He’s never done it before. But right now...it's all he wants to hear from your lips.
So he bites down gently again—just enough to irritate—and you jolt. "John, that hurt!"
He pulls away from your breast, grinning up at you.
"Sorry, mommy," he replies, playfully, before taking your other breast in his mouth.
And then you realize...or think you do, at least. He wants you to talk to him like that.
The notion makes you squirm just a bit. Simply because you've never done baby talk before—have been worried that you'll be terrible at it once your little one finally arrives. But maybe this will make for good practice?
It’ll please him, if nothing else.
"Shh, just be gentle with mommy, sweetie."
His eyes close again, a groan emitting from the back of his throat.
Okay, he definitely likes it.
He continues to suck gently, so you run your fingers through his hair. "Good boy."
His lip twitches.
"You're making mommy feel so much better, baby. Thank you," you say, leaning down, pressing a kiss to his temple.
He smiles, utterly content in your lap���in your loving, motherly arms.
you should've skipped the seminar when homelander came to your college as a guest speaker. it was supposed to be a 'special treat' to returning students for the new academic year. you'd not wanted to attend in the first place, until instructors & professors began herding students into the university's auditorium—which had included you.
so, you'd sat there silently, not bothering with listening to, or so much as looking at the fraud who stood behind that podium in his ridiculous 'super' suit with a puffed-out chest.
but that had only made it all the more easy to spot you when your eyes were the only ones not honed-in on & captivated by his magnificent presence.
&, in an instant, he'd made you his target.
he'd gone to the dean afterward, flashed a brilliant smile, & used his perfected, charming ways so he'd be allowed to look through the student roster, under the guise of wishing to connect with a student to thank her for her kind & moving words that she'd spoken to him as he took photos & signed autographs with her classmates. whereas, in reality, you'd been the first one out of that goddamn room.
he'd wanted to rip apart the lot of them just to get to you & force you onto your knees as you apologized & licked at his boots for disrespecting him.
that evening, as you stand in front of the stove in your apartment making yourself dinner, a loud thud is heard from your balcony.
you go to it shaking & worried someone is trying to break in, only to be met by the sight of a familiar man in a suit & cape, smiling menacingly at you from the other side of the glass doors, gently rapping against them with his knuckles, demanding he be let in...
plotting:
he's going to be very intimidating the first time they meet at her apartment.
just barges right in as soon as she opens the door
"i—uh—how—"
"i came for an apology."
"but—"
"see, i take precious time out of my day—we both know how important my time is, i mean...it's far more valuable as compared to someone like yours; someone inconsequential & worthless, that is—to come to your little 'institution' of academics to bestow wisdom upon all of you morons & instead of you giving me the respect i'm owed, you couldn't be bothered to so much as look in my general direction."
she just stares at him in fear.
"are you fucking stupid? speak!"
"i—i'm sorry?" she's more-so asking out of confusion.
"mm, see, that wasn't very convincing."
he just keeps stepping further & further inside, until he has her backed up against a counter.
"did mommy & daddy not teach their little girl respect?"
more staring & shaking.
"i could always just make you get on your knees. to either suck me off, or lick my boots. maybe both," he says with a grin & a shrug.
"i'm not doing that. i don't...i don't understand why you even care. what...why you're here. how you even—"
"do you not like me? i'm a fucking hero. i am the face of this country. yet you treat me like any other insignificant schmuck on the street. i deserve some goddamn respect."
"i dislike all celebrities just the same. please, just—"
he raises a brow. "i am not just some 'celebrity'. i protect you. i look out for you. and this is the thanks i get for it? some sniveling little bitc—"
but before he can finish, she pushes away from him.
"shit!"
her dinner was burning on the stovetop.
he smirks then, having an idea.
"y'know what? that does seem like a good start at fixing things between us. you can make me dinner. maybe we play house for the evening."
she stares at him incredulously.
"go on, start cooking. before i make you."
she makes him 2 grilled cheese sandwiches—just something simple to try & get rid of him.
"just going to sit there & watch me eat?"
"i'm...not hungry anymore."
"what're you in school for, then?"
"creative writing."
"read me something you've written."
"i don't...i don't want to."
"well, it's either that or once i'm done with my dinner i carry you over to your bed & have my way with you. whether you want to or not."
she grabs her laptop, since he's already nearly done with 1 sandwich.
"nope, give it here. i get to choose which one."
he picks one & turns the device around just as the document is coming up.
her face immediately goes red & he knows he must've chosen right.
"go on, then. almost done. or don't. i win either way."
it's just pure smut.
she's SO uncomfortable while reading what she's written about a man giving a girl oral.
meanwhile, he can smell how turned on she is.
once he's done she immediately stops, retrieving his plate & putting it in the dishwasher.
he comes up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, then moving them down her arms, & up her chest until he has her tits in his hands.
she swings back around. "you can't—"
"oh, honey, i can do whatever the fuck i want." he grins. "& i think you're gonna like it."
he crushes his lips to hers, ignoring her mewls of protest as he lifts her onto the counter, pulling her shorts & panties down.
she tries to fight, but as soon as his eyes go red & he threatens her to either stay still or he'll kill her, she obeys.
he gets on his knees & eats her out until she's yanking on his hair & coming on his tongue.
he stands—his face shimmering from her & he kisses her again. "now, say thank you like a polite young lady."
"t-thank you."
he heads for the balcony again, throwing over his shoulder "i'll be back tomorrow" before taking off.
she's just sitting there humiliated. just like he wanted.
he keeps coming back to her apartment time & again, not much caring what she may or may not want.
he very slowly starts letting her in.
& when he does, he usually gets pissed-off right after, bc he's afraid of letting those walls down. but as soon as she touches him—a hand on the chest, or cupping his cheek, his mind just goes blank.
before long, he considers her as belonging to him, even if she doesn't know it. jealous side starts coming out to a frightening degree.
eventually, since his image is 'the american dream', pr team starts pushing for him to get married due to his being middle-aged & still alone—doesn't look good for his image. he puts it off for as long as possible until they have a list of suitable celebrities or other lined up for him to consider.
he panics. "i'm already engaged, so you can shove your roster of botox-filled bimbos where the sun don't shine. i found my girl."
goes to her apartment & throws her a small black box. "here, put that on your ring finger."
"j-john, this is—"
"yup," he says with a smile. "you are getting the unimaginable privilege of becoming misses homelander."
she makes him get down on one knee & do it right, despite him bitching.
in truth, she's frightened, but knows she has no other choice. he's already told her what will happen if she ever tries to leave—she's trapped.
speaking of pr—his team has him bring her in so they can properly meet her & make their judgement (doesn't matter either way what they think, bc he'd kill all of them/burn the whole building down before letting her go) & they start setting up photo-ops of him 'randomly' coming to visit her at uni—bringing her flowers, they're kissing, & hugging, & paparazzi just 'happen' to be nearby.
sometimes he'll just fly her up into the clouds to get the both of them away from it all. because yeah, he loves the attention, but it's the fact that she was his & now he feels like the media is trying to make her their own in some way. just as they have with him his whole life.
he wants her to stay as his & his alone. the wedding can't come soon enough so he can get her hidden privately away in a house somewhere.
buys her a house & gets to work on knocking her up asap. for one, bc i think he has a breeding kink, but also to further trap her, & to also get to work on building his lil 'master race' of supes & bc...mommy kink.
man has massive mommy issues, as we all know.
is going to have a particular breast-feeding kink w/ reader where he obvs can't actually feed (bc she's like 21 & doesn't have any kids yet), so he just will have her hold his head in her lap while he sucks on her nipples.
one day she has to go to the store to finally buy nipple cream bc of cracking & irritation he's doing it so much & a woman picking up formula is all "aw, how old is yours? (:" & she's mentally just like "do NOT say 43". "oh, uh, 6 months. (:"
headcanons:
after he & reader are married & have their first child, he has a lot of nightmares of something horrid happening to them. when he wakes up, it's always to her shaking him awake, telling him it's ok—everything is okay. his eyes will slowly fade from red, back to their natural color before he yanks her shirt down & starts breast-feeding for comfort. she just holds him & sings to him. it's just the routine they go through every-other night.
honestly? in general, she's his only source of comfort. he loves his children w/ her, but at times they give him nothing but anxiety, bc he's terrified he's going to fuck them up just like he is.
so, he tends to, at times, treat her like a surrogate mother for himself.
it was part of why he was so desperate to finally get her pregnant: to make her a literal mother at last.
before kids? called her pet names every now & again, but mostly by her first name. after? mommy all day long. she knows why, too. & it's not bc of the babies.
at random times, he'll just feel an overwhelming sense of emotion (affection) when he's with reader. & his only way to deal with it is to just pull her toward him as he lays his head between her breasts while she wraps her arms around his shoulders & head & he wraps his around her middle.
sometimes when she's studying or doing schoolwork, he'll get whiny bc he wants her tits in his face, so she eventually forces him into a compromise: they'll sit on the couch—she'll have a small table behind it with her things for uni—& she'll be straddling his lap while she works/writes/types & he gets to suck on her nips all he wants!
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Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]
“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”
You can also find this story on Ao3!
Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two
[Italicized chapters are sort of like,, flash backs? Stuff in the past, whatever.]
[CHAPTER ONE]
I’d never been one for parties.
Yet there I stood, staring up at the house of the address I was given, the windows flashing a multitude of colors as the muffled music blared. People were scattered around the front lawn, holding their drinks and talking happily amongst themselves as laughter filled the cool night air. I felt a sense of midding as I slowly made my way to the front door, a small smile formed on my face.
I opened the front door to be met with the loud, hot air of the party. It wasn’t packed, but it was close. Immediately I started looking around for the one who invited me, gently pushing my way through the groups of people. There were faces I recognized, and ones I didn’t. I hadn’t seen anyone in the area since I’d changed schools years prior. But none of them were who I was searching for. Until finally, I saw him.
He was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes behind a pair of thick black rectangular glasses. He wore a dark green sweater that fit his broad shoulders snugly and blue jeans. I especially knew it was him when I spotted his hiking shoes.
Who wears hiking shoes to a party?
“Chris!” I called. M y cousin, Christopher Hartley, leaning up against the wall and talking to a girl with red hair. He turned to me and smiled.
“Jordan! I didn’t think you’d show,” he said. He took a step towards me and pull ed me into a tight, familiar hug. Chris took a step back as if to get a better look at me. “You look great!”
“Yeah, well, y’know,” I grinned. I tucked a hair behind my ear. It was Chris’s friend group’s graduation party, and it was a big one. A smaller celebration had been held prior by the adults for Chris , a nice outdoor barbecue with baby photos tacked onto the walls and various cork boards. But once that was over and everyone had left, Chris begged me to go with him to a much larger, run by the teens grad party the next week.
“Let me introduce you to my friends!” Chris was practically yelling into my ear to be heard over the blasting music.
“Uhm, no! I’m good, actually, I’ve met your friends!” I’ d met his friends. Mean girls, meat-heads, and -
“C’mon, Jordan, please! You haven’t seen them in like 4 years, they’re totally new people now!” Chris insisted. He grabbed my wrist and began to pull me back towards the red-haired girl. I recognized her then.
“Hi, Ashley,” I waved meekly.
Ashley Brown. Despite the people she surrounded herself with, Ashley seemed like a nice girl. She had red shoulder length hair and hazel eyes under thin eyebrows. Her makeup was subtle and suited her well. She was a very conventionally pretty girl and one that Chris had a huge crush on. Even back in elementary school I remembered seeing her and Chris, nervously sitting together at lunch. Their crushes on each other were so obviously mutual it was sickening to know they were both oblivious to the other’s feelings.
“Hey, Jordan.” Ashley smiled sweetly and waved back at me before glancing back at Chris with a look that screamed “get me out of this.” I decided to get her out of the situation myself while escaping the prospects of having to re meet Chris’s friends. As far as I knew, the group was entirely made up of the same people as it was when I’d changed schools 4 years prior. “Actually Chris, I’m going to go…” I paused. “To the bathroom.”
“But you just got here,” Chris’s face dropped. He knew me well enough to know I was just making an excuse.
“I drink a lot of water, and -”
“Jordan. Don’t ditch me,” Chris said. “Please.” At that moment I despised him for being a sweetheart. I couldn’t say no to Chris, no matter how much I’d wanted to.
Chris spent the next hour or so introducing me to his posse. Just as I’d suspected, it was exactly the same as it had been previously. Emily Davis, Jessica Riley, Matthew Taylor, Michael Monroe, Samantha Giddings, and Hannah and Beth Washington. I noticed there was one missing, but I didn’t dare ask in fear of reminding Chris of th at final person.
“ Sam seems nice,” I commented. “She’s probably my favorite out of everybody that you’ve introduced me to.” And I wasn’t lying. Sam stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the people she ran with. She was active, vegan – not passive-aggressive.
“Yeah, Sam’s great. Hey, I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want something?”
“A water bottle?” Chris gave me a look.
“Really?” I nodded and he left to go get the beverages, leaving me by myself near a fireplace. I took a moment to really look around at the house I was in. It was large, just short of a mansion, and old. The architecture was somewhat gothic.
“ BOO!” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden scare. Someone had grabbed my shoulders hard as they shouted into my ear. I knew immediately who it was, and I was as far from happy as someone could have ever possibly been. I heard a familiar laughter as I turned around to face him, taking deep and steady breaths.
“Joshua Washington,” I said blankly. “Still fail to grow up?” Josh’s smile fades.
“Whatever your name is,” Josh repeated my tone. I couldn’t tell whether or not he had actually forgotten my name or didn’t care to use It. “Still can’t take a joke?”
“Guess not,” I shrugged. Josh stared at me, his shit-eating grin slowly returning to his face. “Or maybe you should come up with some new jokes. ‘Boo’? So last year.” I held eye contact with Joshua for what felt like an hour.
“An oldie but a goodie.” Josh’s brow twitches in frustration. He still held onto his smile but I could tell it was a struggle.
“Not a goodie if nobody fucking likes it.”
“I like it.”
“Hey, Josh! I see you’ve re-met Jordan!” Chris chimed in. Whether he knew we were about to start fighting or not was a mystery, but I was grateful for the interruption nonetheless.
“ Right, Jordan, that’s what it was,” Josh said. “I didn’t remember her at all other than the amount of crying she did.”
“The amount of crying you made me do.”
“All in good fun.”
“You tried to get pig’s blood to ‘Carrie’ me.”
“Like I said, just jokes.” Chris finally interjected.
“C’mon, Jordan, he didn’t mean anything by -” I hold my hand up to stop Chris there.
“I’m not doing this. You were in on a lot of those, Chris, you know how they hurt me.” I didn’t expect him to be on Josh’s side, but then again it wasn’t that surprising considering the amount of torture he helped exact. Chris looked down at the floor in defeat. I turn to Josh.
“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.” I huffed at him. I could barely see him under all of the lights but I managed to catch a glimpse of expression other than snark. For half of a second I could’ve sworn it was remorse.
It didn’t last.
“ Well. I’m not a bully, so… whatever.” Josh turned around and walked away, leaving Chris and I. I was shocked to look at Chris and see him glaring at me.
“Did you have to do that?” He asked. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
“Do what?”
“Start a fight, just like that?” I could feel my heart sink.
“Chris, no, I didn’t -”
“Why can’t you just get over it already?” I could smell the booze on Chris’s breath. I knew he was drunk, he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. He watched me cry enough growing up to know what kind of effects Joshua Washington had on me and my mental health. I chose to say nothing, my eyes full of tears threatening to spill over. My throat felt tight, and I knew if I said a word, all eyes would be on me as I cried in the middle of the room. So I just shake my head and shrug. I took my water bottle and headed out onto the back porch of the house – where Hannah and Beth Washington happened to be.
They noticed right away that my expression was negative. Something I’d apparently forgotten was how different from their brother the twins were, as they came to me immediately.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Hannah asked as she took my hands into her own. I swallowed.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I sighed, looking over the balcony and into the woods.
“Was it Josh?” Beth asked. My eyes flickered to hers. My silence was all the answer that she’d needed. “He’s an ass, for sure. But he’s not as bad as he makes himself out to be. When it comes to you we don’t know what’s wrong with him.” I’m surprised at what Beth was saying. “Have you heard that dumb stuff about ‘he’s only making fun of you because he likes you’ from, like, grade school? I think it’s like that.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at that. The twins ignore the obvious attitude and continued to chat with me. There was absolutely no way Joshua harbored any feelings for me other than disdain, and there was no way in HELL that it could have ever been romantic.
“Girl, don’t worry. You can hang with us.” Hannah grinned at me as she hopped excitedly. “He’ll leave you alone if we tell him to, or whatever.” I smiled at the girls. Just as I had with Chris, I could smell the booze on them and could only assume this kindness and promise of friendship was temporary. Once they were sober, they wouldn’t remember this at all. And if they did, I was sure they would regret it.
“Sure, that would be nice,” I admitted. Even if it’s just for the night, I would never complain about having friends – even if they were related to my sworn enemy.
“Great! Give me your phone!” Hannah insisted. I did as she’d asked, and next thing I knew I had their contact information. “We’ll hang out after tonight, we promise.” I nodded. I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t hoped it would happen, that these two would somehow integrate me into their lives.
It was severely unfortunate that it didn’t last long.
#until dawn#until dawn x reader#josh washington x you#josh washington x reader#josh washington#joshua washington#enemies to lovers#enemies to friends to lovers#this is an x reader just didn't want to write “y/n” a lot
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Congratulations on 1K 🥳 ❤️
Hope all goes well with the surgery 🫶
I'm going to request:
Bucktommy small fic: Buck or Tommy (you pick!) finds a ring box hidden in a drawer
Bucktommy text chain: flirty vibes!
MWAH!
Ahhh thank you!! Finally getting around to answering this!! Your text chains will be in a separate post 😊 I hope you enjoy!!
Little black box (Teen, 2.2k | Bucktommy)
Tommy isn't meant to see it.
Not now, at least. Not like this.
He should see it for the first time as Evan slowly gets down on one knee, producing it from his jacket pocket. It should be a surprise that fills his stomach with helium, making him feel light and as though he could float away if it weren’t for the strength of Evan’s presence beside him, keeping him forever grounded.
Instead, he just feels cold, his throat tightening as he looks down at the small, velvet box. It’s so innocent, resting between Evan’s underwear as though it’s been there for months, comfortable in its space. And it might have been, for all he knows. Tommy’s eyes sting as he pushes back the thought that he might never have known, had it not been for the skill and quick thinking of the paramedics.
His hands are shaking, he realises, as he covers the box once again, hiding it with the briefs that had once been shielding it from the world – from Tommy’s knowledge. Admittedly it’s one of the most obvious hiding places ever, easily discoverable should Tommy ever rifle through Evan’s old socks, but he’s never had any need to do that.
Until now.
Swallowing down the rapidly rising lump in his throat, Tommy picks out a couple of pairs of briefs before selecting a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt of his that he knows Evan loves. With a heavy sigh, Tommy drops to the side of their bed and his head hangs. A lone tear escapes from the corner of his eye, making a silent track down the side of his nose before dripping off the end. It falls onto the duvet cover, a small splotch of wet right next to the rose petaled pattern.
Evan’s blood is still under his fingernails, staining the tips of his fingers like rust on steel. He’d scrubbed them in the hospital as his breaths came hard and fast, his heart feeling as though it could explode from his chest. He’d scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until he bled himself. Eddie had come in behind him, taking the soap from his hands and had guided him from the bathroom.
“Go home,” he’d said, peering into Tommy’s weary face. “Get some rest. I’ll call you when he’s awake.”
Maddie had driven him home. She’d offered to stay but he’d declined, saying Evan would need her more, that she should be there when he woke up. After she’d left, he’d clutched Evan’s pillow and cried himself dry until he finally passed out.
Sleep had been fitful as images of the accident flashed behind Tommy’s eyes. He’d woken with a start, gasping for breath as his phone buzzed beside him, the lockscreen of Evan’s smiling face an ever-present reminder of what he’d almost lost.
Tommy lets out a low groan, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, as if that’ll erase the image of Evan’s hair, usually blond and curled, now russet and matted with blood. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear it and pulls the clothes into a neat pile beside him, ready to fold into a bag when he leaves.
He should shower. He can smell the lingering scent of hospital and the metallic twang of blood clinging to his clothes. There's a red blossom at the hem of his shirt from where he'd cradled Evan's head in his lap as they'd waited for the paramedics. With a weary sigh, Tommy pulls off his shirt and kicks off his jeans, throwing them into the hamper. He can sort them when they're home.
He showers quickly and efficiently, scrubbing every inch of his body until he feels raw, but finally free from the tarnish of Evan’s blood. Hair still wet and curling at the tips, Tommy places Evan’s clothes carefully in the backpack, along with a charger, a book, and a collection of snacks.
The drive to the hospital seems to stretch, as though Chronos himself is tugging on the threads of time, stretching out every tortuous minute where Tommy isn’t by Evan’s side. He thinks about the box, about the accident, about the events leading up to it, trying to unpack it all, to find an instance where he could take the blame. Somehow, it would be easier that way.
Maddie’s waiting outside Evan’s room. There are dark circles around her eyes and her nose is red, as though she’s been crying. Eddie and Christopher are gone, though this doesn’t surprise Tommy. They’d had a long day, and the teenager was bound to be tiring out.
“How is he?” Tommy asks. His voice sounds rough, like someone’s taken to his vocal cords with sandpaper.
“Awake. Sore,” Maddie replies. She looks at Tommy softly, her hand coming up to cradle his still-shaking fingers, steadying him. “He’s been asking for you. Go.”
She nudges him gently towards the door and he goes, drawn always to Evan like a moth to a flame.
The door creaks as he opens it and Evan looks up, roused by the noise. Tommy’s heart stutters as he takes in his boyfriend’s appearance. He looks so small in the hospital bed, his chest covered in wires from the EKG leads. His head is bandaged, hiding the wide gash from Tommy’s view. Evans eyes fill with tears and he reaches out, his fingers trembling faintly.
“Tommy,” he croaks, and Tommy’s knees almost give out with relief. Evan is okay, he’s alive and he’s breathing. He isn’t bleeding anymore, his life force safely contained behind a row of stitches, some surgical glue, and a layer of fabric. He looks better than Tommy expected – maybe a little groggy, but there’s life in those eyes. And he wants his boyfriend.
Tommy crosses the room in two quick strides and drops the backpack beside the bed before sinking to his knees. His arms wrap around Evan’s shoulders, drawing him against his chest and he breathes in the coppery tang of the blood still in Evan’s hair.
“Hey, hey sweetheart it’s okay,” Tommy soothes, kissing Evan’s forehead. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”
Evan takes in a deep, shuddering breath. His firsts curl in Tommy’s jumper, clutching onto him as though he expects Tommy to disappear. Tommy knows the feeling.
“You weren’t here when I woke up.”
Tommy’s heart shatters into a million pieces and he pulls Evan tighter. He’ll never let go, never let Evan out of his sight again.
“I know, I’m sorry baby. I had to go home for a bit, I think Eddie was ready to chloroform me to make me rest.” Tommy chuckles quietly at the memory, and tears prick in his eyes as the pain of having to leave washes over him again. He pulls away, swiping his fist over his cheek.
“A-are you okay?” Evan asks, his hand coming up to cup Tommy’s cheek, as though Tommy’s the one that’s just been through a terrifying, life-threatening accident, not him.
“I should be asking you that, look at you,” Tommy laughs wetly, kissing Evan’s palm. He runs his hand over the rough bandage on his forehead, the fabric catching on small nicks in his skin. Evan’s eyes flutter shut, and he leans into Tommy’s touch. “Hey, I got you some clean clothes, if you wanted to get into something more comfy.”
Evan’s face lights up as Tommy reaches beside him and pulls the backpack up onto the bed.
“God yes, these hospital gowns are awful. Thank you, baby.” Evan grins as he pulls the backpack towards him and begins pawing through its contents. He kisses Tommy sweetly as he pulls out the snacks and the charger, placing the items on the small table beside his bed. The clothes come next – first the hoodie, then the sweatpants, and then finally, his boxers. Evan’s smile falters as he lifts them up, his brow furrowing as he slowly puts two and two together.
He licks his lips before speaking. “Where – uh – where did you get these from.”
Tommy could lie. He could say they they’re his, that he wasn’t thinking when he got them. Evan would laugh, probably say something flirty if he wasn’t so tired, and that would be it. He wouldn’t have to know and Tommy could live with the weight of his discovery on his own.
He can’t do that, though.
“Your underwear drawer,” Tommy eventually answers. His mouth feels dry as he braces himself for Evan’s reaction.
The blood drains from Evan’s face, leaving him waxy and pinched. “Does that mean – did you see…?”
He trails off, unable to finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to. He never has to, when it comes to Tommy.
“Yeah,” Tommy replies softly. He takes Evan’s hand, running his thumb over his knuckles.
Evan settles back against his pillows, unable to meet Tommy’s eyes. “Oh.”
His face is etched with worry and Tommy can practically see the thoughts swirling through his brain. The brain that Tommy loves so much, that’s made Evan the man he is, so readily able to twist Evan’s thoughts and fears until he crumbles from them.
Tommy won’t allow that.
“Hey,” he says quietly, cupping Evan’s cheek. “It doesn’t change anything, Evan.”
Evan’s eyes meet his, and Tommy can see the panic behind the beautiful blue irises. He hurries to amend his statement, shuffling closer to Evan so he can rest their foreheads together, careful to avoid the bruises beneath the bandage. “Not unless you want it to.”
“W-what do you mean?” Evan asks. His voice is small, and Tommy feels a wetness against his fingertips. He wipes it away, smearing the tear against Evan’s cheek, and brushes the lightest of kisses against his lips.
He hasn’t been sure how he was going to reassure Evan about it, but the words flow easily from him now.
“I don’t mind that I found it. Nothing has been ruined for me, because I know that’s what you’re thinking right now.” The guilty flash of Evan’s eyes confirm his suspicions. “You could have proposed to me while we were 10,000 feet in the air with the helicopter spiralling out of control, and I would have said yes. You could have taken me to watch the whales, and you got down on one knee as their flukes crested a wave, and I would have said yes. You could have asked me while we were crusty and hungover and puking our brains out and I would have said yes.”
Tommy kisses Evan’s cheek, his nose, between his eyebrows, before finally pressing a kiss to his lips. He tastes salty, from blood or tears Tommy doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. “Baby, you have to know you’re it for me,” he whispers.
Evan shudders against him, his breath hot on Tommy's lips. His hands reach out to grasp Tommy's wrist, his grip firm, stopping Tommy from pulling away. Not that he wants to.
“I know I’ve got a pretty bad concussion, but can we just ignore that for two seconds?” he asks. Tommy’s brow furrows in confusion – it wasn’t at all the response he expected. He moves backwards, giving Evan some space, gauging his expression.
“Okay?”
Evan winces a little as he moves forward, and he takes Tommy’s hands in his, his fingers rubbing at the webbing between Tommy’s thumb and forefinger. He looks beautiful, even with the slowly blackening eye and the small tuft of curls sticking up from beneath his bandage. Tommy finds himself marvelling at how lucky he is, as he does at least once a day.
“I am a little sad you found it,” Evan admits, ducking his head and looking up at Tommy through his lashes. “I’d planned a whole day – we were going to go to the Getty on our anniversary and I was going to take you into the garden and propose to you there, not where there were too many people, but so that we could see the city. Our home.”
“Evan I -”
“Let me finish,” Evan replies, flicking Tommy’s nose with a grin. Tommy does as he’s told, shutting his mouth with a snap.
Evan takes a steadying breath before continuing. “But. After today, the accident, and all those beautiful things you said to me, I think I’ve realised that there’s no point in waiting. It doesn’t matter how I ask, right? As long as it’s you and me together.”
He leans forwards again, his mouth ghosting over Tommy’s in the softest brush of a kiss.
“So, Thomas William Kinard, will you marry me?”
It’s like he’d used up all his words in reassuring Evan, because suddenly his response is stuck in his throat. Tommy looks around them, at the basin in the corner, the small table on which lies Evan’s belongings, the monitor attached to the wall that’s recorded the spike in Evan’s heart rate. He looks at Evan, battered and bruised and looking altogether worse for wear, skin the same colour as the sheets in which he’s wrapped, but alive, breathing, and asking Tommy to marry him. Nothing he could say would ever feel like enough to express his love for this man. In the end, his answer is simple, as though he’s been waiting his whole life to say it. And maybe, in some ways, he has.
“Yes, Evan, I will marry you.”
#james writes#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#tw: blood#tw: injury#HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE#bucktommy fic#thank you for the prompt!!!#911 abc#911 fic#911 bucktommy#911
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Racing Hearts
f1!driver!Jason x reporter!Reader
A/N: i know i said that i felt like writing a toxic f1!driver!Jason, but my mind always reverts back to fluff and hurt/comfort. i can’t help it. :( So ENJOY <3 comment if your comfortable, let me know your thoughts, and please check out the art that inspired this fic (F1 Driver, F1 Driver Pt.2 and F1 Driver Pt.3) i’m proud of how everything came together \(^~^)/ ALSO I SEE THOSE OF U WHO SPAM LIKE, REBLOG, OR COMMENT ON ALL MY WRITING (I LOVE ALL OF YOU) it makes me geek out fr
The story will continue! Here is pt. 2 HEHEHE
Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, sudden roy harper appearance???,
Word Count: 3.7k
The lights were bright, rapid flashes brightening every angle of Jason’s face as he stood in front of multiple cameras.
His sweat pricking his forehead and running down the sides of his face, shimmering from the light, making him even more attractive as he finally felt the sun on his skin after a race.
His racing helmet clasped in his hand, towel in the other, dabbing at the sides of his neck. His hair perfectly messy from his win.
Fans screaming his name, reporters trying to get his attention. A man finally stopping him in his tracks, shoving a microphone closer to him, surpassing those who were also trying to talk to the star in question.
“Jason, we have seen your name repeatedly throughout racing legacies, what’s the secret to having such a great career?”
Jason continued to walk again, waving at fans, effortlessly pleasing the crowd one look at a time. The reporters and photographers following him like pigeons flocking to food on the ground. Shouting to repeat his name.
After dabbing his towel to his face, he turned back to look at the interviewer. A sparkle in his eyes.
“You’re lookin’ at him. What else do I need?” Jason smugly smiled, briefly making eye contact with the interviewer as he spoke, the interviewer’s face slightly reddening. Giving his classic swoon worthy smirk, fans erupting behind him trying to get a glimpse.
Just another day as one of the world’s best racer.
——
Jason had arrived late, his ball cap worn nicely on his head, his classic Red Bull uniform snug around his fit physique.
Bright lights burned down on him, giving the cameras the best lighting. Jason’s flaws were being watched like a hawk, ready to be shown, but he confidently walked to the microphones.
He let out his signature smile, a quick wink to the nearest interviewer, tapping the microphone in front of him.
Repeated thump thumps echoed through the speakers as he sat down, his management team not far off the stage as he took one of the two seats. The other driver no where in sight, his bright orange hair nonexistent next to Jason. The iconic duo not yet together.
Multiple hands raised, ready to ask Jason any big questions they had been saving for the past twenty minutes until one of the two men decided to join. The press conference should have started once his companion arrived, but journalists weren’t patient people.
“Mr. Todd! How does it feel to add another win to your belt and beat your own record?” A bright young man asked from the crowd, his glasses bouncing off his nose.
Jason laughed, pride taking up the entire room.
“I didn’t know there was any other option.” Jason leaned into the mic, giving a show of his arms crossed, muscles on the table in front of him.
You could practically hear the fans screaming through the camera as you sat a couple rows from the racer. You were surprised his ego didn’t push you off your seat when he arrived.
“Jason! There is talk that your contract is near its end and you are possibly thinking about changing teams, what are your thoughts?” A blonde woman asked two rows in front of you.
“I always think of my fans first, I want to carefully consider everything when I make that decision. Plus, I can’t deny how good I look in black.” Jason teasingly tilted his head.
A quiet scoff left your mouth.
It was now or never, you didn’t know how loud the room was going to get once the second racer arrived.
You raised your hand, standing up to talk face to face to Formula 1’s hottest driver, Jason Todd.
Well…face to face was pushing it, there were other reporters also trying to get their chance with the ever bright star.
But a press conference was a press conference, if you don’t make yourself known, you don’t get to ask any questions.
Once Jason’s focus landed on your standing form, he nodded at you, giving you permission to speak.
Returning the courtesy, you nodded your head.
“Gotham’s greatest has returned.” You smiled, notebook in hand, voice even.
“Please, no need for an introduction.” Jason chuckled, interrupting your sentence as the rest of the crowd laughed with him.
Charmer. You thought.
Patience has always been your virtue, too many people tested you in your line of work, but you could handle someone as spontaneous as Jason Todd.
“Not only do you have the skill, you have the money, and the team to back you up. You are engineered for success.” You explained.
Jason chuckled, charming smile broadening at the compliments.
“You have such a nice way with words.” He relayed through the microphone, projecting his husky voice throughout the room, gaining another laugh from the crowd.
“But your Chief Technical Officer is leaving this season, digging a huge hole in your team. His legacy changed the engineering of your vehicle because he introduced you to your legendary car. Putting you and your other driver, Roy Harper, in a position of possibly seeing your racing careers coming to an end as your CTO retires.”
“You do have a way with words.” Jason repeated, irritation pricking at his skin, but keeping that picture perfect smile for the camera. You smiled again, a tiny bit wider at his strain.
“In other words, your fans are wondering, if your car can’t be at it’s top shape, there’s only so much skill you can perfect before technology surpasses you and you can only see the rear wing of all your opponents.”
Ouch. Jason thought, smiling through your verbal jabs, but none of the amusement reflected in his eyes as he stared at you.
“What did you say your name was?” Jason sat up straighter, his tone lowering. He was used to mindlessly giving eye contact, giving that mind numbing attention that most people on the internet fawned over.
This time it was different, he focused in on the reporter standing not far from his seat, never lowering their eyes from him.
You smiled, slow and calm, basking in causing the change in the flirtatious F1 driver.
Now you had his attention.
“All legacies come to an end, Mr. Todd.” You continued, never answering his question. “Now that your CTO Elainey Usoro is confirmed to leave, will we be able to witness your legacy end in the upcoming season?”
“Aren’t you jumping the gun? Of course my name will continue to be recognized.” Jason scoffed.
“But will it be recognized as the star that lost its fame?” You nudged again.
Jason’s face went neutral, observing you. You stared back, not wavering in your eye contact, a calm diligence.
A tension blanketed the conference room.
Roy threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly manner, leaning against his driving buddy as he also threw a flirtatious smile. His laid back demeanor cut up the tension filling the room, the reporters getting oddly quiet at the sudden back and forth of you and Jason, but saved by the second driver’s arrival.
Roy was as fashionably late as usual, throwing a kiss towards the management team on the side lines. His iconic bright hair covered in a backwards ball cap.
They erupted his name around you, as you stood above the crowd.
Roy waved his hand, playfully mimicking a royal princess addressing his loyal subjects as he kept his arm on Jason.
Despite the noise around you, Jason kept his look at you.
Once Roy was done getting in his crowd pleasing, he spoke.
“Sweetheart, just ‘cause Usoro is leaving doesn’t mean we get cars tossed in from the dump. The position will just be empty until the next season begins. I can promise you we aren’t taking off our uniforms any time soon. I look too good with the words ‘Red Bull’ across my abs.” Roy cheekily grinned, toothpick in between his teeth.
Roy Harper. You thought.
One coquettish athlete was one thing, but two had the potential to test you.
“I hope to see those results, Mr. Harper.” You calmly smiled. You glanced back to Jason. “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Todd.”
You sat back in your chair, your badge displaying your name and company around your neck. The symbol recognizable to Jason, but he had reset to his usual coy responses before he did anything about it.
And the press conference continued as usual, the fans loving Jason, interviewers taken with him. They tried to trip him up like you had, but no one had pricked him as much as you did.
——
The chair you sat in was uncomfortable.
Luxurious restaurants had the weirdest looking furniture, twisted in odd shapes to make it more appealing to the rich.
The mood lighting set low to create a kind of intimacy most fancy restaurants aimed for.
Jason sat across from you, waiting on his dinner for the night.
“Thank you for meeting me today, Mr. Todd. The place you chose is…quaint.” You eyed the indoor waterfall and the huge chandelier.
“You should have ordered something, this place is known for its seafood.” Jason smiled, crossing his arms across his chest.
A much too expensive watch on his wrist, in too expensive clothes, in a too expensive restaurant.
Your outfit was formal, you thought it fit the atmosphere of the restaurant and you were only here for business. The contrast of the two of you looked like a boss and his employee from afar. Awkward and not on the same level of pay.
The salary of Formula 1 drivers would make any person look plain next to them.
“I shouldn’t because we’re here to discuss about you.” You plainly said, posture straight.
Jason stared at you, the shadows on his face chiseling out his features more than usual. Casually leaning into his chair.
“So, tell me, Mr. Todd—“ You formally started.
“Call me Jason.” He leaned his arms on the table, more of his face coming into the light, his wrist watch glistening in the warm light.
He probably has his own personal jeweler that shines his watch everyday. You judged internally, your left eyebrow raising. A nonverbal “really?” unconsciously stemming onto your face.
Jason’s smile growing wider at your reaction.
“Well…Jason,” You awkwardly corrected, face going back to neutral. “Our interaction last week has gained…interest. I’ve been told that your management is interested in us discussing another interview, just the two of us?” You picked up your glass of water, gently sipping.
Jason was weirdly silent, watching intently at your moves and words.
“Tell me about yourself.” You continued, gently laying your cup on the glass table. Placing your notebook next to it and a simple pen. The plain stationary complimenting your equally plain outfit.
“Jason Todd, F1 driver, signed onto Red Bull, haven’t changed since.” Jason’s food arrived. “The podium is practically my home, the stuff everyone knows. You could quickly Google all of that.”
You stayed quiet, mindlessly writing his quotes in your notebook. Not much effort put in your handwriting.
“But no one is interested in that.” Jason took a bite, glancing back at you as you stopped writing.
“Why not?”
“Okay, ‘lil reporter, let’s be real for a second. The reason why the internet wanted us to meet again is because of how we interacted.” Jason continued to eat. “You have no interest in me, despite your line of work.”
You put your pen down. Really listening.
“I may not be interested in your career, but I do have a passion in what I do.” You defended yourself, tone firm.
“I’m familiar with your work.” His nonchalance apparent in the way Jason sat. His voice leveled, none of the familiar coquettish attitude in front of you. The real Jason was sitting there.
“You are?” You stammer in confusion. You hadn’t expect his shift in demeanor or that he knew about you.
“Duh, that’s why I tried asking for your name last week, but someone thought it was cute to ignore me.” Jason sipped on his water.
Your mouth formed into a firm line.
You knew that there had to be another person underneath all the on screen charisma, but you didn’t expect to meet him at this dinner that was set up. Hell, you even expected getting cancelled by all his hardcore fans the next morning after the press conference.
“Look, I wasn’t interested because everyone knows you. You rightfully made a name for yourself and I had chosen another athlete to interview that day, but it was scrapped because the ‘great’ Jason Todd, shining beloved driver, had made a comeback after you had flopped for a short while.” You breathed, catching your breath.
Jason stopped eating, watching you look at the notebook on the table, a single sentence written on the blank page.
“Ouch, lil’ reporter.” Jason looked up from his plate, his eyes sparkling at something interesting he’s heard.
“I wanted to interview a woman changing athletics, but I had to drop everything to meet you at a press conference you were twenty minutes late to. So, yeah, I wasn’t overjoyed to meet you that day. I’m sorry if I was rude, you weren’t the one who rejected my story.” You slightly huffed, the most emotion you’ve shown Jason.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Jason enthusiastically put down his fork. “Finally some honesty, I was questioning whether you were a robot.”
“Huh?” You had expected Jason to be mad.
“Bad things happen, but we were told to put this together. So, forget the sports stats, let’s show them something a lil’ different.” Jason smiled, a genuine smile that didn’t look at you any differently after you vented out your frustrations about him.
“Like what? Get to know the real you?” You flatly said. “Sounds kinda cheesy.”
“I love to talk about myself, so why not?” Jason shrugged his shoulders.
You sighed.
“Okay—okay, let’s start with—“
“No, no, no.” Jason interrupted you. “Not here, hell no.”
“You chose this place, I thought this was what you wanted.” You questioned.
“The company chose this, I don’t like seafood.” Jason replied, blankly staring at you.
“What?!” You nearly yelled, self-consciously looking at the other tables, nodding an apology.
Jason laughed, truly laughed.
“Are you free tomorrow?” He asked, smile reaching his eyes.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied, lost in the development.
“Great, we’ll meet for dinner.”
——
You ended up outside of what appeared to be local restaurants, packed inside an outdoor lounge area, surrounded by furnished secan containers locking in the structure.
It was beautiful with the hanging string lights illuminating the seating area.
You looked in awe.
“You’re on time.” Jason’s voice rung on top of your head, behind you.
You turned around, surprised at the sudden silent appearance and the casual clothes he was in, no fancy watch, his clothes looked like normal department store ones, and his hair was messily down.
“Ten minutes late? That’s a new record.” You quipped.
“Ha!” Jason laughed. “I almost didn’t recognize you in casual clothes. You almost looked less robotic.”
Jason leaned down to give you a once over like he was evaluating your outfit.
“Quit it, I’m starving and whatever smell is coming from that side is changing my brain chemistry.”
Jason smiled, following behind as you led yourself by your nose.
“Holy shit.” You took a moment after your first bite.
“Woah, the robot cusses. What a scary lil’ reporter.” Jason teasingly shook his head, taking a bite after his teasing. “Holy fuck.”
“Right?!” You smiled, eyes squinting at your cheeks lifting.
Jason, lost in the food, chewed, taking in all the flavors.
“I could die in this moment and ask the paramedics to pass on my final wish, to thank the owner of the food truck over there.” You sipped your beer.
Jason stopped eating, pausing to look at you.
“What?” You questioned his stare.
“You actually have emotions.” Jason kept his face blank.
“Shut up, I would throw this at you if it didn’t change my taste buds.” You frowned.
Jason laughed. His shoulders shaking from the movement.
You noticed his smile was different. He had actual smile lines on his face, his eyebrows grew softer. It wasn’t the usual look he gave after his races.
“Is this what the incredible Jason Todd does when he isn’t wearing his Red Bull uniform?” You tried to casually prod into his life.
“How smooth,” Jason whistled, catching onto your nosiness. “I came here a lot with my brothers.”
“Wow, Wayne family lore.” You kept your eyes on your food, trying to deter the atmosphere away from the sad tone coming from Jason.
“Not the best history there.” Jason quietly spoke, picking at his food.
“A rich boy with family issues, I would have never guessed.” You smiled at him, playfully punching his shoulder. “I might be a reporter, but I respect boundaries. I don’t like the work of others that invade privacy for selfish reasons, bombard children of celebrities, and other awful reasons. So, trauma dump or not.” You smirked.
“Wow, lil’ reporter is all grown up.” Jason dramatically wiped the corner of his eye, wiping nonexistent tears.
“Never mind, I already know the title of the article.” You flatly said. “Rich, charismatic—“
“Aren’t you a charmer—“
“Pain in the ass, reckless, thorn in my side—“ You continued.
“Okay, alright, that’s enough, I get it.” Jason smiled, despite the harsh words.
You raised your left eyebrow, not fully convinced.
Jason used his thumb to rub your eyebrow back to its normal spot, you closed your eyes, moving your head away from his playful harsh rubs.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.” Jason reassured. “You’ll get my all my issues, the one time I was mugged, the reason why I don’t drink, and all my kinks.”
“What?!” You shrieked, Jason laughing at your reaction.
“I’m kidding, I was never mugged.”
You threw your dirty napkin at Jason.
——
After the fulfilling dinner, you got Jason’s number, set another date for a lunch, and you were happy.
It had been a while since you had time to enjoy a meal, no work blurring into your off time.
You could never admit to Jason that these meals felt like dinners with friends, not work at all.
Jason had suggested that you choose a spot. You decided on ice cream, not a lunch spot or a decent meal to talk over, but he didn’t complain.
You sent a location to him for a spot near the harbor.
You met each other, the weather getting colder after the F1 season was over and the new norm of adding a jacket to your daily clothing.
It felt idiotic to get ice cream in cold weather, but it was too late to change now.
Jason came five minutes late this time.
“You’re getting better!” You yelled between your cold hands. “Almost brought a smile to my face!”
You fought a smile as you saw Jason jog to your waiting spot.
“I couldn’t let my lil’ reporter wait too long in this cold weather.” Jason’s breaths fogged around him as he caught his breath. Teasing your cheeks into a slight blush, but maybe that was the cold weather.
You put your hands back into your pockets, trying to keep any warmth in them.
“Let’s go, before the ice cream melts.” You joked, walking away from Jason.
“Why ice cream?” He questioned, catching up to your side.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Don’t you get those cravings for hot chocolate in summer and ice cream in winter?”
“No, only robots think that.” Jason smiled.
You swung to punch his shoulder. Jason didn’t even bother dodging, taking the hit with the biggest grin on his face.
“I’m glad this isn’t a live interview again because if I wasn’t cancelled for giving attitude to you at the press conference, then your fangirls and boys would berate me after this.” You spoke, ears red.
“They wouldn’t do that. They just love trying to get me in as many love scandals as possible.” Jason rubbed the edge of your ear with his fingers, they felt warm to the touch. “Been a running joke for a while. Last week they thought I was dating a valet guy and previously they thought it was a some lady at the auto shop.”
“Does that explain the edits of you with some taco stand guy?” You smirked.
“Aw, you looked me up.” Jason cooed.
“Alright, that’s enough.” You laughed as you walked into the ice cream parlor. The two of you walking in and a pair of teenagers sat alone in the shop.
“One scoop of strawberry please.” You asked the teen worker, you looked at Jason, silently asking for his order.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Do I get the pleasure of you treating me to ice cream?” He teased.
“Just order.” You told him, feigning frustration.
“Banana split please.” Jason excitedly told the worker.
“Wow, really taking advantage of me.” You pulled out your card.
Jason pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, placing it in the tip jar.
You smiled to yourself.
As you sat with your sweet treats, Jason was devouring the ice cream.
“Y’know, now I get why you get this craving.” Jason scooped another bite in his mouth.
“No more robot talk from now on.” You eyed him.
“Sorry about that. I just wanted you to act like yourself. You look better like that.” Jason mindlessly played with the left over ice cream at the bottom of his plastic tray, a small smile forming on his face. “People getting angry at me turns me on.” Jason smirked, his coquettish personality coming back, but it didn’t annoy you as much as it did before.
You choked on your ice cream, the realization to his words in your eyes. You looked back at the other teenagers in the shop, they were in their own world, not paying attention to you.
“Relax, they don’t care about us.” Jason laughed.
You glanced back at him, weighing the thoughts on your next words.
“I bet my praise would be more effective.” You scooped your last bit of ice cream, finishing it.
Jason’s laughed boomed in front of you. He was smiling like a little kid, it lightened your heart.
“I never know what comes out of that pretty mouth.” He couldn’t stop laughing.
Your ears reddened at his words.
You nervously played with your spoon.
Words. Yes, they were just words. No need to overreact.
“Wanna walk by the harbor? I think I need to walk off all this sugar.” You asked Jason, getting up to throw away your empty cup.
The air outside was freezing, but your ears burned.
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Gala Gal ft. Blackpink Rosé
pairing: Rosé x male reader rating: Explicit wordcount: 2.8k prompt: a young journalist gets a chance of a lifetime with Rosé at a recent event.
Being a writer for a celebrity magazine has its advantages, such as getting to attend grand events like the Cannes Film Festival, or in this case, the MET Gala. Now you might think, where's the fun or excitement in that? A bunch of rich people dressed in overpriced clothing and posing on the red carpet while you have to ask them redundant questions that no one truly cares about outside a small niche of fans.
That is a reasonable question to ask, and a fair point to make. Hell, there are times when you wonder to yourself just how legitimate of a job this is. You certainly hear that question from your parents enough. But the answer to all of those questions comes from the woman currently walking towards you.
"Thank you for your time," you say to the current girl in front of you.
You have been interviewing some girl who is apparently 'the next Olivia Rodrigo,' which is a wild title to have, but you digress. As you bid her good-bye, a sudden chorus of "Rosé! Rosé over here!" erupts from the group of photographers, followed by a series of flashing light bulbs.
Your eyes flick over to the red carpet area near you to see none other than the 26-year-old starlet, Roseanne Park. Otherwise known as Rosé from Blackpink.
You have never crossed paths with her at any events you have covered; which you just toss up to bad luck or god punishing you for some crime you can’t remember. Either way, it seems like you will finally be getting your chance. Judging from this distance, she is just as beautiful as she appears in all her photos.
Her blonde hair is flowing down her back while loose bangs frame her face as she smiles for the camera. She is wearing a black dress that is form-fitting at the top, held together by two thin straps, and flares outwards at the waist. Frankly, she looks stunning. It is a classy dress that still manages to spark arousal in you. Though, you will keep that last part to yourself.
It is only a few moments later that you have to compose yourself as the press woman directs Rosé towards your vicinity. Adjusting your stance, and growing erection, you cough and put on a friendly smile as she walks over.
"Hi, I'm with Eros Magazine," you introduce yourself, managing to remain composed.
"Rosie, it’s nice to meet you," she says sweetly. She is even more beautiful up close, and that smile is practically paralyzing. Given that you don't trust your tongue at the moment, you decide to keep it simple.
"So how are you tonight?" you question, knowing how many times she must have answered it already.
"I'm great! It's a little cold tonight, but I'm excited to be here," she starts in her accented voice. "I love the Museum of Arts and supporting a good cause is always great. There are so many beautiful dresses and people here. So it's all feeling great right now!" she says, remaining smiling and bubbly throughout her answer.
For your part, you merely nod your head and smile, holding the recorder up to get every word. You go through the litany of typical red carpet questions: what projects are you working on, how's the music coming; all the typical things you could hand in to your editor when a story is due. You can see the press woman getting antsy though. Typical. Figuring you only have one or two questions left, you decide to venture out a bit.
"So, you're going to be going on tour again soon, that must be exciting..."
"It is! You're actually the first one to bring that up all night," she says, a hint of surprise in her voice.
"I do like to do my homework beforehand," you joke with a grin before continuing, "That being said, how do you manage to have fun and unwind? Even at these events, you have to keep a certain image, right?"
Rosé is quiet at first, and for a moment, she glances around as if to check that the coast is clear before she answers, "Oh, you know the girls and I find out ways to have fun. And this is actually my third year at the Gala, so I’ve found the little tricks and ways to have some fun."
There is something about the way she looks at you as she speaks that screams there is more than meets the eye to her words. Maybe it is the coy tone to her voice or the glint in her eye as she smiles. Whatever it is, you suddenly find yourself wondering exactly what ‘some fun' entails.
"By the way," Rosé says, interrupting your thoughts, "Eros Magazine...as in the Greek word for erotic love?"
Again she fixes you with that mischievous grin.
"Uh — yeah. Nice catch," you stammer, causing her to giggle.
"I like it" she says, a look you can’t read in her eye. Before you can ask anything further, the press woman begins to nudge her on to the next reporter. "It was nice meeting you."
"You too, have a good one," you reply, watching her intently as she walks away.
If that is your first and last interaction with the K-pop star, then you can say it has been interesting if nothing else. You get the feeling there is more to that little minx than meets the eye, you are only disappointed that you’d likely never get the chance to delve a bit further.
Covering the event means that you gain access to the party but hardly anyone does any real reporting. After all, these kinds of events are meant for the rich and famous. To cement their status as celebrities, they then sneak off inside to where they can have their fun. For the most part, you reporters stay together, talk, and drink the free liquor that is available.
You expect your night will be spent at the bar, winding your time down until it reaches an acceptable time to call it a night. But first things first, if you are going to be here on the company dime, you might as well get your money's worth.
"I've been looking for you all night!"
You are in the middle of ordering yet another drink when a familiar accented voice reaches your ears. Turning in your stool, you lay your eyes on Roseanne Park for the second time tonight, only this time there is something a little more...loose to her demeanor. You get an explanation when you spot the glass in her hands and briefly wonder how many she had at this point.
"Me? You must be confused," you say, both amused, curious, and a bit confused, "I don't think anyone at this party has said I’m wanted."
"Well, you are!" she says, smiling as she moves towards you, "And now that I've found you, I have something to show you."
"Don't you have famous friends to entertain?" you question more than protest as she places her drink on the bar and takes your hand.
You catch a glimpse of a hint of a pout on her features, "Don’t worry, they’re occupied." Again, there is that suggestion that something more is going on. Of course, there is the very realistic possibility that your mind is just running away with crazy, erotic theories. But that potential doesn’t stop you from being any more turned on by the thought. Coupled with the fact that Rosé is dragging you through a gala to god-knows-where and you are practically dreaming. In that moment, she could take you to hell for all you care.
"You're going to love it, trust me," she assures, looking back at you as she continues leading.
"Oh, I’m sure," you reply. Your mind is racing with things from a blow job to taking her from behind, so needless to say, you are a bit disappointed when she stops at your destination.
"A photo booth?" you ask, a bit amused at how silly it seems.
Rosé is either undeterred or doesn’t register your lack of enthusiasm as she simply nods, still smiling and pulling you into the booth.
“It's fun! Come on," the blonde insists, pulling you by the hand into the photo booth. Judging by the size of it, the booth is clearly an afterthought to the gala planners, or maybe it just isn’t meant for two people at the same time to occupy it. You do your best to squeeze yourself in so she can close the curtain behind you. To your surprise, Rosé neatly slides onto your lap, her perfect, tight ass sitting right on top of where your hard-on has been growing for the last couple of minutes.
"Alright, so it takes six photos then prints them out there," she points to the deposit box under the screen. She either doesn't feel the bulge pressing firmly against her ass, or she is very good at playing naive.
"Okay," you nod, as if you are bothering to pay any attention to the pictures.
As she shimmies on your lap to get into a better position, you decide to be bold and snake your arm around her slim waist, only to receive no complaints from the pop star. A countdown shows up on the screen, and when it says CHEESE, Rosé throws her arms around you, smiling openly as you try and fail not to look too bewildered. The screen replays your photo, and you can’t help but laugh at your own expense.
"Not bad," you grin, as the counter starts for the second photo.
"Not bad, but I think we can do better!" she says with a determined look on her face. When the screen says CHEESE again, Rosé suddenly leans over and licks the side of your face. You are so surprised you don't know how you react until the photo replays.
"Oh my god! That's great!" Rosé laughs.
You take the next few photos in the same fashion, going for ridiculous and silly in each one. After every photo, Rosé would shift her weight on your lap, rubbing against your erection each time. You are certain that she has to be well aware of what she is doing, and by the time the countdown for the last photo appears, you have made up your mind.
When the screen flashes, you turn Rosé's head to you and push your lips flush against hers. To your surprise, it takes less than half a second for her to respond, her hands moving up to cup your face. You kiss passionately like that until the simple need for air breaks you apart.
"I was starting to think all my work was for nothing," she says, a devilish grin on her face.
You raise an eyebrow at her; apparently, all your theories have just been confirmed. "You planned all this then?"
"I told you we know how to have our fun at these things," she comments, twirling a strand of hair in her finger.
"We?"
Mischief gleams in her gaze for a moment, “Maybe later. I know you’re a reporter, but you shouldn’t ask too many questions.”
She places a delicate finger to your lips as she gets up off your lap. The low ceiling of the booth doesn't allow her to stand up fully, but she doesn't have to as she crouches and reaches under her dress and begins pulling down her panties. "Fuck...these things are definitely ruined. I practically soaked them."
Her comment is more to herself than you, but your cock only grows harder at the revelation. You watch as she slides her thong down past her ankles, and her eyes fall to your crotch. With nimble fingers, she works on your button and zipper, springing free your aching cock.
"Oh wow..." she mutters, eyeing it with an animalistic hunger. "I would love to wrap my lips around that..."
"You're more than welcomed to," you groan, starting to get that sense of teasing with the amount of anticipation that is building. You are tempted to just force her head onto your cock, but you stop short when she speaks.
"Later. We don't have a lot of time."
Your disappointment at that statement is short-lived as she stands again and turns around. Rosé lifts her skirt and hovers over your lap. Grabbing hold of your member, you let out a groan as she positions it at her entrance, rubbing it for a second in her dripping juices. Unable to hold out, you thrust your hips slightly upward, causing your tip to pierce her folds.
"Mmm, somebody's anxious," she purrs, her accent coming out thick.
"Can you fucking blame me?" you say through gritted teeth, reaching out to grab her waist. Before you can yank her down, she beats you to it and spears herself on your rod. "Oh fuck," you let out, feeling how tight her petite body is.
"God, you feel fucking amazing," you mutter into her shoulder.
"Ah~...and you're...much bigger than you look," she says, clearly trying to adjust to the size she just filled herself with in one go. Apparently, the discomfort isn't so bad as she soon begins lifting and dropping herself on your cock slowly. "Try not—ooh— to get too loud," she moans out, her ass rocking against you.
"Speak for yourself," you grunt, your hands gripping her waist firmly as you start to move your hips to match the movement of hers.
You can't wrap your head around the fact that you're fucking a member of one of the most famous girl groups in the world in a photobooth at a gala with hundreds of celebrities. Thankfully, you don't need to wrap your head around it, as long as you keep fucking her. With that in mind, you take control of the pace, gripping her waist and forcing yourself up into her. Each time you spear her pussy, it's like another piece of heaven. Her pussy is squeezing you like there's no tomorrow, only increasing the pleasure you get with each thrust.
"Shit, yes, yes! Fuck me," Rosé chants in a loud whisper as she puts her hand on the console to steady herself as you thrust up into her.
"God, you're fucking tight," you moan, continuing to pound her Australian pussy. "Someone could look in here at any second."
"Oooh, I know," she lets out a shuddering breath.
"You're getting off on that, aren't you?" you continue the dirty talk, sliding a strap off her shoulder so you can push her top down to fondle her pert breast.
"Yes, yes! It fucking turns me on," Rosé pants.
For a moment, you fear she has given you away, but you're too far gone to truly care at this point. Her hands slide down the console, and you're only aware of what happens when the shutter of the camera makes you look up. Looking over Rosé's shoulder as she bounces up and down, you see your photo displayed, Rosé's mouth opened in pleasure.
Grinning to yourself, you increase the speed of your thrusts, determined to get her orgasm face by the last photo.
"OH!" she squeals, surprised by your sudden turn of action. "Oh fuck, right there. Keep going," she pants, her hand covering yours and holding it firmly against her breast.
You squeeze firmly, shoving every inch of your meat deep into her snatch. Her lithe body arches back into you. She's panting heavily, each thrust causing her to take a sharp breath. You turn her head towards you and kiss her, her hand gripping the back of your head. It's sloppy and passionate, perfectly fitting the current heated moment that is occurring.
"I'm close. I'm so fucking close," Rosé chants, continuing to grip your head as she moves her hips to yours.
A few moments later, you have to cover her mouth with your hand as she shrieks her orgasm. Her walls clench around you as she comes, her juices flooding your cock.
"I'm going to cum," you warn, knowing you aren't going to last through her orgasm.
"Mmmph," Rosé says, until you remove your hand, "In me! Cum inside me!"
You don't take a second to question it, instead thrusting your hips upward, your cock pushing into her one last time as you empty rope after rope of your seed into her womb. You continue unloading into the star for what seems like eternity until you both finally collapse in the booth. Her body heaves on top of yours as she tries to catch her breath.
"I don't think I've ever cum that hard before," you pant, causing the Blackpink singer to giggle.
"Don't speak too soon," she says, leaning back and kissing you softly on the lips. Thinking of what she could have planned only causes your cock to twitch inside her with anticipation.
One thing is for certain: this girl certainly knows how to have fun.
BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.
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Hiii I was wondering if you could do Valentino x reader, where someone is getting a little bit too close to Valentino for readers liking so when he's busy doing something else reader deals with that demon. Have a good day
[Hello! Thank you for requesting! i loved your idea. I hope you have a good day too anon!]
[Warning: Alchohol, Blood, Smoking, Toxic relationship]
A night out with your mans goes horribly wrong as your seeing red.
Stepping out the car Valentino holding the door open, " You look marvelous my dear." He smiled as cameras flashed around us.
I stood up wearing a skin tight black dress with white leather straps around my chest, a fur coat that matches Valentino's white coat with hearts, black christian Louboutin heels. "Thank you dear" I smiled as my lips now covered in a dark red shade curled upwards, as Valentino led us inside his Club.
Walking to our reserved seats as he sat down I put my coat down as I sat next to him crossing my legs smiling as he lit a cigarette to smoke. "Welcome Valentino, Anything i can start you guys with?" A bartender wearing a uniform asked us. "We'll do the usual '' He exhaled putting his hands around my waist.
I decided to stand up " Where are you going doll?" He asked as i looked at him. "Nowhere" i smiled as i sat on his lap " Thats what i thought" He inhaled another puff as he forced my lips onto his exhaling his smoke into me passionately making out right there.
FInally i caught my breath smiling as I kissed his cheek leaving a dark red kiss mark. " You're mine." I smiled at the mark on his cheek. "And you're mine." He puts his hands on my thighs.
" Here are your drinks" The bartender came back, placing 2 pink drinks with a passion fruit on the glass. " I'm going to the bathroom" I said , kissing his cheek again, standing up fixing my dress as I blew a kiss and walked to the bathroom.
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Before I walked out the bathroom I sprayed his favorite perfume pushing the door open to see a girl sitting next to him with her hands on my man. I stood there waiting to see how it would end. She took a look at my drink and drank it with her pink lipstick now on it. My eyes were seeing red. I stormed there smiling politely " Hi, can i speak to you for a second ma'am " I smiled so innocently "of course dear." the blonde woman stood up drunk from one drink. " I'll be right back dear." I waved to Valentino as I led her to the backroom of the club.
closing the door shut. "What did you wa-" before she could finish her sentence I slapped her with my purse " You desperate piece of shit" I gave her a fist to her face smudging her pink lipstick " You are really a desperate cock whore aren't you. "I grabbed her by her neck pushing her against the brick wall. '' Do you even know who I even am." My pupils turn red and my hair flies up, the blonde bimbo starts choking.
As I came to my senses I didn't want to kill her. I wanted to make her suffer. "Do you know who i am" I asked again letting go of her throat throwing her to the floor. "I don't know- I'm sorry" she cried as she tried to crawl away.
" I am Y/N His motherfucking Girlfriend if you come near him ever again." I walked towards her, my heels clanking on the stone floor. i Bent down, lighting a cigarette exhaling in her face. " You won't see another day." I looked at her with a toothy grin, scaring her away. as i stood up kicking her in the face one more time. Breaking her nose.
" You better run bitch" I turned around to the door again walking inside not wanting to deal with this mess, fixing myself as I walked to Valentino " welcome back doll..." He smiled as he patted the seat next to him, I sat on his lap instead looking for comfort. " You wont leave me right?" I leaned into his neck inhaling his cologne as he held me tight " No doll, I won't leave you" He smiled as he saw the blood on my heels.
grabbing a tissue as he wiped the blood off my heels "You made a mess didn't you?" He asked as he kept cleaning them. I nodded in his neck as I couldn't face him. " That's my girl" He held me closer to him as I whispered into his ears. " You know.. all this got me horny tonight." I smiled running my hand across his chest and to his stomach. "Let's go shall we." he said holding me in his arms as he walked outside.
"Let's go home, my doll..."
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel valentino#valentino#valentino x reader#hazbin hotel valentino x reader#x reader#helluva boss#helluva boss x reader
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Beach Find
Lizzie and her husband Sam strolled hand in hand along the sandy shore, the gentle waves lapping at their feet. The sun was warm and comforting. Having a child allowed them rare opportunities to vacation away just the two of them but their daughter Vicky was 18 now and was far from the partying type. They knew she would be cooped up for the week in her bedroom at home with a good book.
"I almost had forgotten what sand had felt like." Sam chuckled.
"Yeah I agree- ahhh what was that?" Lizzie replied after stepping in something sharp. Lizzie’s gaze was drawn to something twinkling in the sand beneath her. Letting go of Sam’s hand she knelt down to investigate.
With a few scoops of her hand, she unearthed a jewel tiara, its pink gems shimmering in the sunlight. "Sam, look at this!" she exclaimed, holding it up for him to see.
"Wow, that’s beautiful." Sam said, leaning in for a closer look. "Where do you think it came from?"
His words were lost on her. All sound seemed to disappear as she held the tiara. She was entranced by it and felt a growing need to put it on. She lifted it over her head and placed it softly onto her hair.
All at once the sound around her rushed back and she felt a pulsating pleasure coarse through her body. Her bones started to creak and crack as the became stronger. Years of bad posture were erased in seconds. Her bad hip suddenly brand new again.
"Lizzie, what’s happening?" Sam gasped, stepping back in astonishment.
"I... I don't know, but I feel... amazing." Lizzie replied, her voice now softer and more melodic.
Her slightly saggy skin started to tighten around her improved frame, years of wrinkles disappearing. More than that it became smoother, softer. Even in her youth it had never felt so good.
Sam stared at Lizzie, his mouth agape. "Maybe you should take it off, this doesn't feel right, Lizzie." He suggested, a sense of unease creeping into his voice.
"Shut up, Sam!" Lizzie snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. The harshness of her words cut through the air like a knife.
Sam recoiled, stunned by her sudden outburst. "Lizzie, what's gotten into you?" He asked, his concern deepening.
Realizing what she had said, Lizzie's expression softened. "I'm so sorry, Sam. I don't know what came over me. I just feel soooo goooood." she said as the changes continued.
Her short mom hair grew long, cascading down her back to just above her butt, her brown hair becoming lighter and lighter until it shimmer blonde.
Her sensible nails transformed into long, fake pink nails, perfectly manicured. Her lips plumped up, now coated in bold red lipstick, and her eyes became piercing blue, sparkling with a newfound intensity.
Lizzie felt her body become strong and powerful, the sensation overwhelming. A shift began to occur within her mind. Subtle at first, her thoughts started to change, becoming increasingly materialistic. The simplicity of her previous life seemed dull and unsatisfying now. She began to crave luxury, riches, and all things glamorous.
"It's okay. Let's just take it off, alright?" Sam said gently, stepping closer.
But as Sam reached for the tiara, Lizzie pulled back, a sneer forming on her lips. "How fucking dare you try and take this away from me Sam. You've always been such a boring bastard!" she hissed, this time without an ounce of regret.
As if to reward her cruelness to her husband, her tits swelled up, growing into gravity defying orbs that made her moan in pleasure. Her regular mom-style clothing morphed into a tight pink dress, hugging her curves and featuring a long slit along the side that showed off her legs. She arched her back to push her boobs out to make them look even more impressive.
"Lizzie, this isn't you." Sam pleaded, trying to reason with her but the transformation was done.
"You're right, it isn't. I'm Eliza now and I'm so much better than I was. Who wants to be a fucking boring housewife when they could be a goddess like me? I'm going to be so fucking bad and love every minute of it!" She declared with a cackle that sent a shiver down Sam's spine.
-
Vicky had started to worry about her parents. She hadn't heard from them in days. She had initially put it down to them just having a good time on their vacation but it was so unlike them not to check in.
Their flight was due to land that day and Vicky breathed a sigh of relief when at last she heard the front door open. Expecting her mom and dad to appear with their usual warm smiles and travel stories, Vicky was stunned to see a strikingly beautiful woman step into the house, her presence commanding and intimidating.
The woman wore a loose fitting pink dress with a sparkling tiara sitting atop her perfect blonde hair which flowed in perfect waves. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the room with a cold, calculating gaze. Sam followed in tow behind her, his posture subservient and his eyes downcast.
"Mom?" Vicky asked, her voice trembling with confusion.
The woman laughed, a chilling, heartless sound. "Don't you dare call me that again you vermin. I wouldn't want anyone to think I produced such an inferior offspring. Although I doubt anyone will even think a beauty like could be related to you. You'll call me Eliza now." She snarled.
"What happened to you?" Vicky demanded, tears welling up in her eyes.
Eliza sauntered over, her long fake nails glinting in the light as she reached out to stroke Vicky's cheek but quickly grabbed her face in her hand roughly. "I’ve finally become who I was always meant to be. Look at you, so plain and pathetic. You're the worst mistake I ever made. You should be grateful I even acknowledge you now. Fetch me a drink, and make yourself useful for once."
With tears in her eyes, Vicky dutifully set out to do as she was told. Every fiber of her being wanted to yell and scream at her mother but she found herself unable, as though she were under some sort of spell.
-
Over the next few weeks, Vicky could only watch helplessly as Eliza became notorious in their town. She stayed out late partying, shamelessly flirting and sleeping with other women's men. Their life savings quickly dwindled as Eliza spent lavishly on designer clothes, jewelry, and extravagant nights out, all for herself.
At home, Eliza treated Sam and Vicky as slaves. They were made to do all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, and anything else she demanded.
“Don’t fucking mess up the laundry like you did last time!” Eliza snapped at Vicky one afternoon as she lounged around basking in her beauty and cruel power.
Vicky picked up Eliza’s tight dresses, all which stunk of sex and obediently piled them into her laundry basket.
“Here take this as well.” Eliza said standing up and stripping all the clothes she was wearing off of herself. Vicky lifted her eyes to the sky but for a moment caught a glimpse of Eliza’s perfect form. A weird pang of jealously hit Vicky for just a moment. That’s when she heard the voice.
“Wear me.” The voice purred. It seemed to be coming from the top of Eliza’s head and only Vicky could hear it. Her eyes settled onto the tiara, its glomming jewels captivating her.
“What the fuck are doing just standing there? Get out and do the laundry!” Eliza said with a snap of her fingers breaking Vicky from her trance. Vicky quickly scampered away but the damage had been done.
Finding her father alone in the kitchen doing the dishes she sidled up to him and whispered in hushed tones.
"Dad, what is it with that tiara? It's the source of all this evil isn't it?" She asked as quiet as she could.
Sam looked around nervously before nodding. "I saw it happen, Vicky. When she put it on, it transformed her. She's not the woman I married anymore."
Vicky's heart sank further, realizing the depth of their predicament. "We have to do something, Dad. We can't live like this. We have to destroy it!"
"It's too dangerous sweetheart. We don't even know if destroying it will work. It might just enrage her even more." Sam said with a sigh and went back to his dishes. Vicky knew it fell on her to save her family.
-
Vicky returned home from school the next day, her heart pounding with determination. She had researched all about the tiara and was convinced it was from an infamous wreck. The King and Queen of Bratavia went down with their ship during a nasty storm right near where Vicky’s parents had been vacationing. The King and Queen were known as evil tyrants who kept their subjects obedient through fear.
Vicky feared that her mother was somehow being corrupted by the tiara in the same way the queen likely had been all those years ago. She was ready to destroy the tiara by any means necessary. However, as she entered the house, she found a smug Eliza waiting for her, with Sam standing beside her, his head hung low.
"Hi, Mom—I mean, Eliza. What's going on?" Vicky asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Eliza's lips curled into a malicious smile. "What's going on is I know all about your plan to try and destroy my gorgeous tiara. Sam here squealed like the little piggy that he is."
"Dad how could you?" Vicky said in shock.
"Oh don't be disappointed him dear he's been under my thumb since my transformation. He's been reporting to me for awhile now about your rising rebellion against me. I must say I am impressed you've been able to resist my power." Eliza said with a smirk.
"We need to destroy it! It's turned you into a monster!" Vicky said pleading with her mother.
Eliza laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the room. "Is that the real reason? Or is it that you want the power for yourself?"
Vicky shook her head vehemently. "No! No of course not! I just want my mom back. This… this isn't who you are!"
Eliza stepped closer, her piercing blue eyes glinting with cruelty. "I know it's true, I can see the desire in your eyes. You want this power I have. You want to be as big of a bad bitch as I am. You have heard it call out to you, I know you have."
"How could you know that? Whatever the case I don't want it, I don't want any of it!" Vicky insisted, her voice faltering slightly.
Eliza's sneer deepened. "Oh, but it is. You can deny it all you want, but I see the the way you look at me, with envy and longing. You crave the power, the control. You want to be just like me."
Vicky felt a pang of conflict within her. Despite her revulsion at what her mother had become, there was a small, undeniable part of her that was drawn to the promise of the tiara's power. The thought of wielding such influence, of being able to control and command, was tempting. To be a beautiful bitch. She couldn't help herself from getting wet.
"No, I won't let you manipulate me, you're wrong!" Vicky said, trying to push the thoughts away.
"We'll see about that, darling. You'll soon be a daughter worthy of me!" Eliza laughed again, her tone mocking as she snapped her fingers. Sam grabbed Vicky and pushed her down to her knees while holding her from moving.
Eliza stepped triumphantly over to Vicky, taking off the tiara. "You see, dear, the tiara's power is already in me. You could have destroyed it, but I would have remained. The only thing you would have stopped was your own ascension, but mommy is here to help with that." She said with an evil smile as she placed the tiara onto Vicky's head.
Vicky's hair began to change first. Her once plain brown locks grew longer and glossier, transforming into cascading waves of rich, golden blonde. "No, I don't want this!" Vicky cried, trying to pull the tiara off, but her hands were still held fast by Sam. Her resolve weakened as she felt the luxurious weight of her new hair.
Next, her eyes changed from their ordinary brown to a piercing blue, the color intensifying until they sparkled like sapphires, like her mothers. "Stop it! Mmmmm don't stop!" Vicky whimpered unable to stop letting out a soft moan.
Her lips plumped up, becoming fuller and more luscious, painted with a seductive shade of deep red. "I can't… I won't…" Vicky tried to protest, but the feel of her newly enhanced lips was intoxicating. She could feel her resistance slipping, the desire to embrace her transformation growing stronger.
By now Sam had let go of her hands and had stepped back. Vicky was free to remove the tiara from her head but as her hands rose higher they stopped at her chest which was expanding by the second. She ran her hands over her impressive new tits, squeezing them with perverse joy.
"Oh fuck these feel so god damn good! I could make so many weak boys into my puppets. Noooo I can't let this happen! I need... to... fight... it!" She fought in weak protest as her nails, once short and practical, lengthened into perfectly manicured talons, a vibrant pink color matching her mother's.
"Oh fuck yes these are perfect for a bitch like me! They would look so hawt running down the back of a hawt guys back! No Vicky, don't give in!" She whispered, but the sight of her elegant nails made her heart race with excitement. The transformation was nearly complete, and Vicky couldn't fight how good she was feeling.
"I can't fight it, I don't want to fight it! Yes! Make me hot, make me cruel, make me evil! Vicky is dead! Tori is hear to stay!" She moaned loudly, her body shivering with delight.
She stood up, her posture now confident and commanding, a cruel smile playing on her lips. Eliza clapped her hands in delight. "How do you feel?"
"Mmmm I feel so naughty. Thanks for the upgrade Mommy... Sorry I mean Eliza." Tori purred as she primped herself in the mirror.
"No need to apologize dear, you are worthy of being my daughter now. I couldn't be prouder of the wicked hottie you are." Eliza said beaming at Tori with pride.
"Thanks Mommy, I can't wait to show this patheic town who I am. Mmmm it's getting me so wet thinking about all those bitchy bullies who tormented me every day and how I'll have them under my heel. Of course I'll need a new wardrobe." Tori said remembering her closet was full of drab clothes designed to blend in. She needed to stand out now.
"Absolutely sweetheart, we'll take your simp of a father's credit card to the mall and spoil you rotten. Nothing but the best for my princess." Eliza said kissing the air around her daughter's cheeks.
"Speaking of which, can't we kick him out and bring in a real sugar daddy?" Tori said looking at her grovelling father with disdain.
"Well we have two options dear. First is that we use the kings crown on him. I found it soon after the tiara. It is designed to turn even the most weakest of men into strong confident bastards." Eliza said already dismissive of the idea.
"And the second option?" Tori asked curious.
"Well as gorgeous as the tiara is on your head darling, it has done it's purpose. You are forever an evil beauty just like me. But that is not to say it's power is done corrupting." Eliza said with an evil smile that was soon mimicked on Tori's face as her mother's plan crystallized in her mind.
The two women turned with their cruel smirks towards Sam, devilish intent in their eyes.
"Two wicked Mommies? I'll be the most spoilt girl in the world!" Tori said closing in on Sam who backed himself into a corner.
"Welcome to the family... Samatha." Eliza laughed as she watched Tori take the tiara from her head and shove it onto Sam's.
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Fatal Attraction Chapter Two (NSFW)
18+ MDNI‼️
CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference,Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.
Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the “Cryptid Rengoku” character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.
Chapter One
He let me go. I can’t believe what just happened as I stumble back to the small, secluded residence where Tamayo has been housing us. My ankle hurts, but not as badly as before. The pain lingers, though it's less intense after resting and talking with that monster.
I'm in shock and disbelief. Out of all the people who have been searching for these mythical monsters for years, I had the misfortune of encountering one—and a dangerous one at that.
I think back to that haunting smile, those sharp teeth, and the glow of his red eyes. However, Tamayo's rambling might have saved me in a way. I never looked Kyojuro Rengoku directly in the eyes, which means he couldn’t sway my emotions.
If I remember correctly, the Hashira—or more specifically, these cryptid creatures—have the ability to influence a person’s control once you look into their eyes. This could be a means of protection or a manipulation tactic. I didn’t care what Kyojuro Rengoku’s intent was. Once I realized the situation I was in, I kept my gaze low.
He seemed not to notice, or at least he never mentioned it.
My mind is racing, and there's a nauseous feeling in my stomach. The full realization of the situation crashes down on me all at once: I encountered one of the nine most dangerous monsters our group has been researching. And I can’t breathe a word about it to any of them, especially not Tamayo.
The guilt didn’t set in until I finally made it back to the small house. I could see Tamayo, Yushiro, and some of the others talking in a group through the window.
There they were, discussing theories and ideas, while I stood outside with a twisted ankle, no flower, and a huge secret I had to keep from them.
In that moment, it felt like the world was working against me. I didn’t even believe in any of these ridiculous creatures, and now I’m stuck returning to see one every other day.
And return I did. Once my ankle healed, I kept my promise to him, bringing offerings of different foods and teas. I tried bringing blankets and fabric once, but he didn’t seem to enjoy those.
Even though sneaking around at night to see him was difficult, I made it work. Our dynamic was confusing, but I tolerated it. The first few times I visited, we sat and ate together. He would ask me questions about myself and my life, which I usually answered briefly. I didn’t want a terrifying monster knowing everything about me. Recognizing my face was bad enough.
When I tried to ask him questions, he would either change the subject or ignore me completely. If anyone else behaved like this, I’d probably tell them off. But when you’re dealing with an eight-foot-tall cryptid with teeth sharper than any blade, I let it slide.
Today, on my way to see him, I felt different. I’ve been visiting him for around two weeks now and never felt us getting closer, but I’ve started getting used to his company. As I continued to see him more, his appearance began to grow on me.
The blonde fur, the sharp teeth, and the red glow emanating from his eyes became something familiar, something I expected. Over time, these once terrifying traits started to become... not so bad.
"Why do you look like that?" His booming voice jolted me back to reality.
"I'm sorry, I was just thinking."
"It seemed like you were staring... Haven't you gotten used to me yet?" He flashed a smile so terrifying yet charming it sent shivers down my spine.
"No, it's not that. I was just trying to decide what food to bring next time."
"I really enjoyed the sweet potato dish. Bring it again." His ears perked up almost like a dog's. It was kind of cute.
"I've brought that one too often. You should try other dishes. Besides, I won't be able to come see you for a few days, so you'll have some time to think it over."
I waited for a response, but there was none. Slowly, I looked up at him. His face was scary, his sharp smile replaced by a terrifying scowl. His ears flattened.
"That's not what we agreed upon, Y/N. Why won't you be able to come see me?" he growled.
I struggled to find the words. Tamayo had informed the group that we'd be moving locations for a few days to cover new ground. I thought he'd understand. I never assumed he'd be upset by my absence.
"My group has to move locations for our search for a while. It shouldn’t take too long. I’ll return soon. It will only be a couple of days."
He got up and moved closer, and I felt every part of my body tense as he approached.
"Where exactly will you be going?" His face was so close to mine now. I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest.
"North… we’re going north."
I didn't have to look at his face to feel the intense glare he was giving me.
"You can’t go. You won’t," he snarled, pulling away.
"I don’t have a choice—"
"I don’t care. You aren’t going."
I didn’t understand. Is it just for the food? Why would this terrifying legend of a monster care if I came to see him or not?
"Why is it a problem? Why can’t I go?" I somehow managed to push the words out.
He was quiet, then I suddenly felt something around my wrist. I looked down to see his tail tightly wrapped around me, pulling me closer. That’s when I felt his sharp-clawed hand lifting my chin.
I instinctively shut my eyes.
"Look at me, Y/N." That usually happy tone had vanished from his voice, replaced with a voice as cold as ice.
Every bone in my body wanted to comply with his demands, but Tamayo's warning lingered in my mind.
"I can’t.”
"Look at me," he repeated.
I couldn’t resist. I knew Cryptids could influence humans, but I didn’t realize how much.
Slowly, I felt my eyes open, adjusting to the sight in front of me.
My mouth fell slightly open. I’d never seen such deep red glowing eyes before. That smile I’d grown accustomed to was completely gone.
I was scared, but why was I so… attracted to him?
"You will not go, Y/N. I'm sure you can come up with some excuse for this Tamayo woman you speak of so much," he spat.
I wanted to protest, to argue, but I just couldn't.
"Okay, I'll talk to her."
With that, he let me go, his tail slowly unwrapping from my wrist. His smile returned.
"Very good! You'll return to me tomorrow. I want the sweet potato dish once more!"
I could practically hear my own heartbeat—what a one-eighty.
As I walked back to the safe house, I planned what I would say to Tamayo, what excuse I would give for not going with the group.
Yushiro was definitely going to give me a hard time about it. But this whole situation sucks. I don’t want Tamayo to kick me out of the only place I have to call home, but on the other hand, I risk getting killed by one of the scariest creatures known to man.
-—————-
"Where have you been?"
I glanced up to see Yushiro and some of the others packing for the journey.
"I just stepped out to get some fresh air."
"Seems like you've been stepping out a lot lately," Yushiro muttered, rolling his eyes.
I had no idea why he was so hard on me. His attitude had only worsened the longer I stayed.
Ignoring him, I walked away. I don't answer to Yushiro. I answer to Tamayo, and that's who I needed to talk to.
My hand felt heavy as I knocked on the door to her office.
"Come in."
I opened the door slowly.
She was nearly hidden behind a giant stack of papers and books. As I approached, she stood and walked around to meet me.
"Y/N, what is it?"
I couldn’t believe how intimidating this small woman was.
"Tamayo... I can't go with you and the rest of the group up north."
She looked at me blankly for a moment. "Why's that?"
"Because I'm afraid I might be coming down with a cold... or something..." I hadn't really thought of a convincing excuse.
"You look fine to me. You're going," she said coldly.
Damn.
"I want to, I really do. It's just that I don't feel well, and I'm afraid I'll hold everyone back."
She scrutinized me. I knew she could tell something was off, but she was making this difficult on purpose.
"Y/N, I've asked you to look for the same flower for weeks now and you've brought me nothing. Now I'm asking you to join the group on our search up north and you're telling me no?"
When she said it out loud, it sounded ridiculous.
"You will go with us, Y/N, or you can't continue to stay here. The choice is yours."
So, my options were to face this 4'11" intimidating woman or an 8-foot-tall cryptid monster.
I'll take my chances with Rengoku.
After all, Tamayo controlled whether or not I had a place to sleep at night. I'm sure he wouldn't be too angry with me as long as I brought him more food.
"Suddenly I feel a lot better. I'll be ready to go in the morning," I said, forcing a small smile.
"That's what I figured." She retreated back behind her desk.
Something inside me felt off, my body a little uneasy. Yeah, he's going to be upset, but he'll forgive me. Right?
I walked up into my small room to get things ready, but I started to feel a little strange. My body felt odd, as if I was doing something wrong.
Climbing into the covers I think about everything, this whole situation that I’ve gotten myself into, with Tamayo, with Rengoku, all of it. I just don’t understand why it had to happen to me.
I never wanted any of this.
I was feeling confident until this morning. As I was helping Yushiro get things ready for the set out, my body kept feeling weird.
It’s like I kept having this odd sense of I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m in danger. I kept trying to shake it off but, it doesn’t go away.
Things only got worse once we hit the road. Tamayo may have thought I was lying earlier about being sick, because I was. But now, my whole body feels awful.
But it’s just a few days. I can push through. I’ll come home, make Rengoku a large dish of the sweet potatoes he loves, and all will be forgiven with a little ass-kissing.
“Y/N, are you ready?”
I look over and see Yushiro and the others staring at me.
“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.” I push the sick feeling down and start to move.
I can’t help but think about why Rengoku didn’t want me to go up north. I know the territory mark ends, but really that shouldn’t mean anything. It’s not like I’m staying up there permanently.
As I walked with the group, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I felt like something was staring at me. It only felt more intense the closer and closer we got to the border that separated our usual territory from the north.
Once we started to step over that line, I glanced over my shoulder one last time. I practically felt my heart stop as I noticed two shining red eyes glaring at me in the distance.
He saw me, and he looked furious. I made the wrong call.
———————
To say that the trip up north was a waste of time would be an understatement—at least in Yushiro's words.
We searched around but found very little. To be honest, I was more paranoid about what we couldn't see. Knowing about the Hashira's existence has made me overly wary of wandering around.
While we were camping out, I read that we were in the territory of Sanemi Shinazugawa. His description was just as horrifying as Rengoku’s.
But what truly scared me was how violent this monster was compared to Rengoku. I knew these monsters were fierce, but the tales of Shinazugawa were extreme.
I felt so guilty keeping this secret. My group had no idea how much danger we’d be in if we ran into him. And it would be all my fault.
Honestly, if Sanemi Shinazugawa wanted to find and kill me, I wouldn't complain too much after the way Rengoku looked at me on my way out. I figured I was painfully dead either way.
I could feel my steps getting heavier as we walked back towards the safe house. It’s not like I wanted to stay in a monster-infested forest, but I definitely didn’t want to be there with Rengoku.
I’ve looked through books and journals of Tamayo’s and still can’t find much about him. Everything I found was positive. He was a kind, protective cryptid who watched over the main village in this area until humans deemed monsters too dangerous to trust.
There was nothing on his origins, background, family, or anything—certainly nothing about a temper.
So why was he looking at me like that? Like he wanted to kill me for going against him. Honestly, it felt like my body wanted to punish me for it too.
Ever since we left—no, ever since I agreed to go—I’ve felt sick and worried. I just kept feeling like I was doing something wrong.
“Y/n, when we get back, I need you to get some firewood.”
I glanced over to see Tamayo looking at me.
I’m dead.
“Oh, okay.”
The rest of the walk, all I could do was dread what would happen to me. Not only was Tamayo forcing me back into the place I wanted to avoid, but I’d also be going without some sort of food offering.
I might as well have signed my own death certificate.
Once we made it back, I helped unload everything and then slowly made my way back into the forest to get the wood. As soon as I stepped out of the clearing, a shiver ran down my spine.
Then the clicking started. He’s here.
“Y/N L/N.” The way his echoing voice spoke my name made me want to run, but my feet stayed planted.
Once he emerged from the shadows, his tall, broad figure just as terrifying as I remembered. But this time, there was no sharp smile or perked-up ears. Instead, angry, glowing eyes and a scowl that would scare any man.
I stepped back as he approached.
Just as I was about to speak, his tail wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.
He leaned in and sniffed me. When he pulled back, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes darkened.
“You disobeyed me,” he growled.
“I had to. If I didn’t go, Tamayo was going to kick me out—”
His grip tightened, and his ear twitched with annoyance.
“You could have stayed here, with me. You don’t need her approval. The only person you should wish to please is me.”
His glare was piercing.
Stay with him? What is he talking about?
“I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t want to go.”
“I cannot believe you would deliberately disobey me. You even smell like him,” he hissed.
“Who?”
His clicking intensified with his agitation.
“Shinazugawa.” He growled fiercely.
“You left me to fall into his company? He is a vile, horrible creature. You dare to choose him over me?” His eyes flashed with anger.
I felt my heart racing as his words sank in. My mind scrambled for something to say, anything that might diffuse his rage.
“No, it’s not like that! I didn’t choose him over you,” I pleaded. “I didn’t have a choice.”
His grip loosened slightly, but his eyes remained fixed on me, burning with anger and something else—betrayal.
“You always have a choice,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You chose to leave. You chose to put yourself in his path.”
I didn't know what to say. I hadn't even interacted with Sanemi Shinazugawa, yet somehow his scent was all over me.
I looked up at him, my eyes pleading. "Please, Rengoku. I would never choose anyone other than you."
His glowing eyes bore into mine, as if trying to gauge the truth of my words.
Suddenly, he pulled me closer, his large, clawed hand grabbing my face roughly.
"Prove it to me then. Prove you're loyal to me—not to Tamayo, not to Shinazugawa, to me."
"How? How can I prove it?" I was practically shaking. I would do anything to get out of this life-threatening situation.
His intense gaze lit up, his sharp smile returning. He leaned in close to me.
"Become my mate, Y/N L/N. Prove your loyalty to me, and become mine." His echoing voice suddenly sounded less sinister and more sincere.
Become his mate?
I felt my face heat up. There’s no way. There’s just no way Kyojuro Rengoku, a cryptid, a Hashira, one of the most dangerous beings to roam the earth, is asking me, a human, to become his mate.
“What? What do you mean?”
His smile only widened at my curiosity.
“Become my mate, Y/N. Stay with me, love me, and I’ll protect you for all eternity.” His ears perked up.
I didn’t know what to think. Am I actually considering this? I’ve always found Rengoku oddly attractive despite his terrifying nature, and yes, I do enjoy coming to see him. But was becoming his mate really what I had to do to survive?
And how exactly would I hide this from everyone?
As I looked into his eyes again, they flashed. Something in me felt different. Why was I suddenly feeling more attached to him?
I remembered the first time I looked into his eyes. I could tell he was influencing my body and emotions, but this time it was different.
Everything I’ve felt for him just felt amplified: fear, intimidation, attraction, lust.
Was I seriously about to bend to the will of this monster just because my twisted mind was genuinely attracted to his horrifying appearance and oddly charming personality?
If it’s going to keep me alive, then Yes. Yes, I was.
“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll become your mate, Rengoku.”
His eyes widened, his smile growing larger as his grip on my waist tightened.
“If you agree to this, you must know I’ll never let you go. No matter where you run, I’ll always find you and bring you back to me.”
That sentence startled me, but I never expected to succeed in any escape attempt. I knew I couldn’t outsmart a monster like him.
“I understand. And I agree.”
That seemed to be all he needed to hear. He pulled me closer, our distance vanishing. His animalistic nature began to show as he sniffed and licked my skin.
“I’ll erase every trace of him on you. You’re mine,” he breathed.
I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks grow hotter, my body reacting to his possessive words.
In an instant, he was on top of me, pressing my body against the grass.
I struggled to breathe, his weight nearly suffocating me.
His eyes were locked on mine, his glowing red stare seeming more passionate than threatening now.
Suddenly, he pulled back and tore the clothing from my body, his hands groping and feeling my exposed skin.
My heart raced. I knew what was about to happen, and it terrified me. But I was also strangely excited.
He was quick, his claws shredding the remaining scraps of fabric from my body, leaving me bare beneath him.
I couldn't believe what I'd gotten myself into. This terrifying, mythical creature was about to claim me as his own. And the thought of it drove me wild.
As his large, clawed hands gripped my waist, he positioned himself between my legs.
His eyes looked at me, hungry.
"Y/N L/N."
"Yes?"
"You're mine."
I felt a surge of excitement run through me as I nodded.
"Say it," he growled.
"I'm yours."
His clicking started up again and he positioned his face between my legs.
I can’t believe it, is he really going to—
"Aah!" I cried out as his long, rough tongue began lapping at my sex.
My back arched as he lapped and teased, his sharp teeth nipping and tugging at my sensitive flesh.
I could barely catch my breath, the pleasure almost overwhelming.
I could feel my legs shaking, and my body begin to tighten as his tongue flicked against my clit.
"R-Rengoku..."
His glowing eyes peeked up at me.
“Kyojuro.” He corrected.
“If you are to be my mate, you will not address me so formally anymore.” He growled, sucking marks onto my thighs.
He returned to licking and teasing my pussy.
I can't believe this is happening.
I felt the heat building in my stomach, the pressure building as he lapped at my sensitive spot.
"Ahh... K-Kyojuro, I'm close," I moaned.
"Perfect," he rumbled, his echoing voice vibrating through me.
His grip on my thighs tightened as he pushed his tongue deeper into me, licking and sucking at my throbbing sex.
The pleasure was overwhelming.
"I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum," I moaned softly.
He growled continuing his assault on my clit.
His voice, his touch, it was all too much.
I cried out, my body shuddering and spasming as the intense waves of pleasure crashed over me.
Kyojuro held me in place as my orgasm washed over me, his tongue never slowing its pace.
The pleasure was so intense I couldn’t think straight. My body had never felt so used like this.
As my mind started to settle I couldn’t help but crave more. And by the way he was looking up at me between my thighs. I could tell that wasn’t enough for him either.
Once he arose up in front of me, I took in his body. The ripped muscles beneath his blonde and red fur. His tail and ears, and now…
Now for the first time I’m finally looking all of him. His cock was the biggest I’d ever seen. It was thick and curved and had a large knot close to the base.
my body shivered with pleasure, I wanted more. I needed more.
As if reading my thoughts, he smirked and positioned himself between my thighs, his cock teasing my entrance.
"Tell me what you want," he taunted.
"I... I want you, Kyojuro. I want all of you," I panted, my body aching with desire.
That was all the encouragement he needed.
He grabbed both my ankles holding them with one of his large hands above my head.
I’d be lying if I said this position wasn’t slightly embarrassing, but at this rate I didn’t care. I don’t know if it was the cryptids influence or if I was just fucked up in the head, but I was willing to let this monster use me in any way he wished.
With one smooth motion, he pushed his thick cock inside of me.
I moaned out as he stretched and filled me.
He paused, letting me adjust to his size.
"My mate," he growled, his eyes locking onto mine.
I panted, feeling his cock twitch inside me.
He started moving slowly, his cock rubbing against my walls, sending sparks of pleasure through my body.
"Oh god..."
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
I gripped the grass below me tightly as he slid in and out of me, his knot pushing against my entrance with every thrust.
The pressure was building, the heat spreading through my body as he picked up the pace.
"Oh fuck," I moaned, my body trembling with pleasure.
He clicked and growled in pleasure, his glowing eyes staring into me with a mixture of passion and possession.
He was relentless, his hips pounding into me with a primal fury.
"Fuck, Kyojuro," I cried, my body surrendering to the ecstasy.
The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful.
His eyes flashed with desire, his pace never faltering.
I felt his cock twitch inside me, his knot pushing into my entrance stretching me even wider.
It was painful but I didn’t care, the high of my orgasm made it bearable. His cock was buried so deep inside me I thought my mind was going to blank with every thrust.
even after I came he still kept going, chasing his own release.
His rhythm grew more erratic, his breathing labored.
"Mine, my mate." he growled.
"Yes," I panted.
My words sent him over the edge.
He let out a roar, his teeth digging into my neck as he spilled his seed inside me, filling me with his thick, warm cum.
I cried out in pain and pleasure, feeling his cock pulsing inside me, his cum not spilling a drop due to the thick knot inside of me.
I was breathless, my body exhausted and sore, but my mind was completely satisfied.
"My beautiful human." he whispered, his voice heavy with lust and possession.
I held onto him, my body still trembling.
He released his grip on me, his clawed hand releasing my ankles.
I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed as he pulled his softening cock out of me.
As the warmth of his body faded, the chill of the evening air set in, sending shivers down my spine.
But before the cold could sink in, he covered my body with his own, his warm, heavy frame keeping the chill away.
His face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, where he had bit me. his nose taking in his scent on my skin.
What have I done?
Next>>
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(yes, i reposted this. i needed to edit the dates. thank you to those who will re-reblog and re-like.)
it's finally here. a major quick thank you for all the love and patience everyone has shown me over this series. i hope it's worth the wait.
word count: 11k.
it's getting real now...
CHAPTER TWO: MASTERMIND
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Chistine Kiko just handed you an eighth of mushrooms and you weren’t one to disappoint. Even if it was your first time. “My fucking dad wouldn’t let me do anything in the Hamptons. I literally only had my dab pen and coke. Like, what kind of person does that?”
They taste like fucking shit, Christine licked her pudgy fingers dry while you were gagging between chews. “He sounds,” baby barf, “like a monster.” She doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm, “thank you! Everyone said I was being dramatic too, glad to know I can rely on you.”
You cough on the last swallow, Christine patted at your back, a red solo cup pushed in your hand. “Drink. I mean, he bossed me around all summer too. He thinks I wanna be like him, like, try that with your other kids?” You pull the cup down, “you’re an only child?”
Christine shrugs, “it’s never too late.” You hum while you finish the mixture, it was ultra sweet, you assume it was full of booze. “So, basically, you’re gonna have a super fun time and I will totally be here for you if you need me, but I have friends to see, ya know?”
It’s a nice way of saying she will absolutely not be around if you need her. You stop her with a hand on her wrist, “wait, how long until this hits? Will I know?” Christine smirks, “about an hour, give or take. Ride the wave and pick a bed to land in.”
You’re alone for an entire two minutes, just enough time to get your own cup of jungle juice, the same mixture as Christine’s, before an arm drops around your shoulders. The voice alone makes you want to eat sand, you just know he’s about to say something stupid.
With his girlfriend in tow, blonde hair whips towards you, a snotty smirk, “did you see Harvey yet?” It takes everything in you not to wack his arm. “No, not yet.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s going to love your top.” You huff at him, “this wasn’t even the shirt Ally wanted me to wear, so, fuck you!” Matt holds a hand to his chest, “I am in a committed relationship, and even if I wasn’t, ew.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, blondie. I’ve seen cuter rats.” He narrows his eyes, “I will pray for evil to find you.” Ally gasps, “Matty, no.”
Holding a middle finger up, your eyes wander around the room until you zone in on Harvey resting against the staircase, a gleam of light hits his wrist, silver dances in your eyes.
Harvey must have felt you, his chin rises in a poor excuse for a nod. You flash a four finger wave, raising your cup to your mouth when he starts laughing with a friend. Matt pokes your elbow at the interaction, “what kind of dress are you wearing to the wedding?”
You grin, “I’m not sure yet, I don’t wanna clash with Ally.” You turn to her, “we both can’t wear white, right?”
“Hey, hey, hey, if anyone’s going to marry Ally it’s me, and it’ll be in a church so you’ll either sit it out or burn.”
Checking your phone you nibble at your lip, thirty eight minutes. Trent’s nowhere to be found, you need to start looking. And subtly. You take a step back, pretending to be interested in a fake text. “Give me five minutes, I need to make a call.” Ally’s quick to give the go ahead, “okay, text me if you can’t find us!”
Thirty seven minutes. Your shoulder hits a freshman’s, jungle juice splashes on the hardwood; spilling out an apology you step over the puddle. A boy you haven’t seen before smiles at you, if you weren’t on a mission, you’d be saying hello.
You loop by the garage, heart stuttering when you capture Peter and Ethan playing a game of beer pong. Trent wasn’t there, your last hope and prayer was in the backyard.
Surrounded by rose bushes, the chapter president had his lips wrapped around a cigarette. The red glow lit his cheeks up on the inhale, two girls and another guy with him, you think you shared a class with one of the girls last year.
Trent catches your eyes, it’s clear you both don’t want anyone to know what’s going on. He directed his gaze towards your phone, a hand moved around in his pocket before he produced his own.
You stare at your home screen, expecting the message any second. It comes when you move back inside.
‘Use the backstairs, my room is on the left at the end of the hall.’
‘Give me five minutes.’
Thirty two minutes, you don’t have any time to waste. Your feet hit the stairs.
Trent’s room is messy and terribly decorated. Clothes covered the floor, empty bowls and plates scattered across his desk, a still sweating, sealed water bottle makes you smack your lips. How tempting.
A string of flags, a political one that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, a ‘Saturdays are for the boys’ one, and a black and white american flag. The trio makes you roll your eyes, it seems very fitting for his personality. No shoe has a matching partner in the entire room, you’re scared to think of what might be under his bed.
You don’t feel safe or comfortable enough to sit on it either, it’s unmade and with a noticeable and questionable looking stain. He does have a couch though, and it looks very, very comfortable. It feels like you’d sink right in. It’s not enticing enough, you don’t trust it.
You check your phone again, it’s been five minutes and it could be the liquor, but you feel a slight wobble. Twenty three minutes until blast off Trent slides through a small crack in the door, your arms cross defensively. “I know you’re not fucking me, but you can at least pretend to care about my time.”
“Wrong. I wouldn’t care about you, even if you were fucking me.” He proudly takes a seat at his desk, he offers you nothing. A smug look rolls over, “you’ve built it up long enough, what do you need from me?”
The sooner it’s over, the better. “My friends and I have a bet on your potential new members, if the person I pick makes it through recruitment, I win. I need you to make sure I win.”
Trent’s facade slips, even just for a millisecond. “One more time, and I need you to be very clear on it, alright?”
Were you slurring your words? You try to speak clearer. “I know someone who’s going to pledge, and I promise you he has no involvement in this, but I need him to be recruited so I can win some money. All I need is for you to make sure I win and they don’t.”
A brief pause, Trent looks sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that.” You cut him off, he accepted the terms last Friday, and again when you sent over copies of your- Noa’s hard discoveries.
“No, no, Trent, you did. You said anything I needed, and I need this.”
“If you would’ve told me what you needed, you would’ve known I couldn’t help you.”
“This is bullshit, I’ll start singing from the rooftops about your payoff.”
“No, you won’t. I’m the president, so I get final say on who we fully recruit-” You roll your eyes, “I know.”
“- but I don’t get to choose who makes it past rush, you need a member to bid on a pledge. You need someone to big brother him, I can’t do that. If I get involved it becomes dirty rushing, and that is the biggest ‘no no’ to exist.”
You slump, everything comes crashing down. “So… you can’t even pull rank here?” Trent shakes his head, “absolutely not.”
“So this was all for nothing?”
“If you can find a member to bid on him, you have my promise he’ll make it, and I’ll cut whoever you need so you can win. That’s it.”
You’re at a loss, you have no other member you could ask. Matt could never keep a secret, you didn’t know Ethan well enough and there was no way in hell you’d ask- “Want my advice? Parker is your best bet.”
You shake your head wildly, it takes a moment for your mind to click back into place. “You really want to involve someone else into this? You know what’s at stake, right?” You’re hinting at his secret, Trent shrugs.
“If anyone is going to know about it, I’d want it to be Parker. He can keep a secret and has no issue in playing dirty if he’s in on it.” You’re suddenly very thirsty, you keep licking your lips for moisture.
“He doesn’t know who I am.” Not a total lie.
“Then introduce yourself.”
You shouldn’t have to do anything, he’s the one not making good on his promise. You made good on your end and in return he’s barely lifting a finger. Maybe it had something to do with not wanting Peter involved due to fear of judgment. Or, maybe he’d be impressed like Trent.
If you wanted Peter to be a conquest, it couldn’t start by you asking for a favor. That was friend behavior, and you wanted to be anything but friends. This was Trent’s problem, not yours. He doesn’t understand that you can make things difficult for him if he backs out.
Your tongue is thick and you need water. You have no time for this.
“Listen, Trent. This is your problem. I held up my end of the bargain, and you have to do yours. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re going to pledge Isaac Barns. If you don’t, I’ll turn shit around and make this the dirty frat, the frat that cheated for first place.”
Trent held a clenched jaw, you saw nothing but fury in his eyes. “We’ll figure something out. No need to get mouthy.” If you had more time you’d entertain his comment, but it’s clear he’d figure something out.
You eye the plastic water bottle next to him, snatching it from the side. “And I’m taking this, talk to me when you have a plan, Simpson!” When his door slams shut, it rings in your ears.
You feel every muscle in your legs move while you walk, and within minutes it seemed like everything got brighter. A vibration washes down the back of your thigh, you slap around, it’s your phone. A single text.
‘friend?’
You’ve been missing too long, one way to stop the questions.
‘Finding Harvey…’ the response was a keyboard smash.
Blinking harsh, the room feels like it’s blending together. You’ve never felt this way, it’s like the entire house is moving underneath your feet. The floor waves you into the crowd, everything feels like it’s slow motion, yet sped up at the same time.
“Hey!” You don’t know who it is, it’s a stranger, his voice sounds distorted. You shake your head clear, and step right by him. You’re on a mission and can’t be sidetracked, things are hitting quickly and you need to find Harvey to explain plans have taken a very sharp left.
A spin of bodies, you find one that stands out. You catch her shoulders.
“Lindsey!” You fight for the words, they’re like butter. “Have you seen Harvey Guyn?”
She’s fucking plastered, a slur of letters string out. “... hall.. wine… yeah! haha…” A gasp when she sees a friend across the house, you’re forgotten in a second. Putting your faith in her, you take careful steps, slapping your hands on the wine closet and tugging it open.
“Harvey! You in here? Lindsey said you were-” there was no chance to finish, Harvey was busy doing it for you. His head was thrown back on the wall tiles, a guttural moan ripped from his throat. Wrapped around his fist was a tight hold of black hair, to help Christine Kiko keep his dick swallowed down.
“Oh shit,” you slam the door on them, standing in shock for a few seconds. It wasn’t about him hooking up with her, he could do what he wanted. But it wasn’t everyday you saw something like that in person, and you had to give credit to Christine, she was taking it like a champ.
It gave you an out for the night, you were too high for anything but breathing.
Thank god for Christine Kiko. And really bless her for catching up with you in record time spurting apologies while wiping her mouth clean. “I know, I know, you guys were hooking up, but-”
You stop her sorry, “how’d you know?” She rakes her long nails through her hair to untangle it, it comes out clean instantly. “My dad is super simping for his dad and we vacationed together this year so he had me try and make Harvey happy so he could tell his dad they should do business.”
Christine has no idea how fucked up that sounds, “what would he have done if you were his son?” She doesn’t miss a beat, “Harvey swings both ways, doesn’t he?”
Music shakes your feet, Christine’s hair looks soft. It’s black and pin-straight, you reach out, you comb your fingers through without a hint of struggle. “Wow, you take such good care of your hair.”
“Rice water, you’re welcome.” She looks back at the door, “I need some things to finish up, but um, you feeling alright? It looks like it’s settling in.” It is. You’re busy twisting the cap on your water bottle, the small ridges skate across your thumb to create a soothing repetition. “Yeah.”
It makes her smile, “yeah? You should go outside, the trees look fucking awesome, even when it’s dark.” You thank her for the idea, and stand still for a little too long after Christine retreats back to the wine closet. You think it’s your brain trying to remember how to walk, you blame the bass reverberating off the flooring.
The second you’re able to actually pick your feet up, you move three steps before noticing it feels like you have lead boots on. You clomp towards the couches, perched on the side, sitting pretty, was your best friend.
Making eye contact, you replay what just happened. You can’t stop it, it’s uncontrollable, bubbling from your throat, you laugh. Loudly. The longer you laugh, the more intense it gets. Ally has no idea what’s going on, but you assume the giggle is contagious.
“What! Tell me!” You’re trying, but you can’t catch your breath. Each time you try to push more than two words out, you’re back to laughing so hard your shoulders shake. There’s only one reason you’re finding this so funny, you try to collect yourself. “I…” Another round, Ally’s right with you; you think she’s just excited to see what’s got you so giddy.
“Okay, okay. Christine Kiko gave me some shrooms, and they, like, just hit. Also, I just caught her sucking Harvey’s dick.” Ally sputters, “what?!” A hand covers her mouth, the imagery catching up to her. “Oh my god!” You nod, she said it better than you could. “And you saw this?!” It’s like the idea is unbelievable to her. “Uh huh, right in front of me.”
Ally presses the hand covering her mouth, to her cheek. A moment of silence, until she starts to laugh just like you did. You almost copy, until she stops and gives you an ironclad look, “wait, did you say mushrooms?”
You pretend your mind is exploding. “I’m experiencing things I couldn’t explain right now.” Ally’s hair looks almost as soft as Christine’s. You grab a thick piece, breaking it into thirds and start to braid. It feels like rope, your fingers turn into a ball of yarn, fumbling into one useless clump.
“Are you okay? Matty and I were about to go upstairs.” Your eyes flash towards the stairs on instinct, then you're back at her. “Coming back down?” Ally grins and sends you a wink, “not if I give him a reason not to.” She drops her grin, “unless you need company, in that case, I’m here for you.”
Just because you chose to spend your night tripping, it doesn’t mean Ally has to ditch bedtime with her boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be an incredibly selfish thing to do? “I don’t need a trip sitter, I have myself. And Christine. Also, have you seen Prince?”
“Uh, no. He went off with Rocco the second we got here.” Rocco, the second you hear his name, you think of his hair, how does one achieve an afro? Would it be wrong to ask?
“Cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.” Ally eyes you, she’s trying to make sure you’re fully okay before she pulls Matt upstairs. You flash a smile, it’s enough to have her drop her shoulders in relief. “You always have me, you know where I’ll be.”
“And I am so, so grateful for you, Ally Storm.” Because, you are. In your opinion, mushrooms make you emotional. You went from laughing to appreciative in one minute, suddenly you’re hugging your best friend while holding back tears. “You are so kind, and patient, and nice, and, like, so super supportive to me.”
Ally squeezes you right back, “you should do drugs more often, I’m loving the praise.” You pull back to wink at her, “it’s only cause you’re so great. Go do your boyfriend, since I can’t get any tonight.”
“You think sex on shrooms would be good?” The idea hadn’t occurred, but thinking about it makes you agree with her. “Sex on hallucinogens? That’s boyfriend behavior.” Ally pats your arm, “next time, invite me. I’ll let you know how it is.”
A twinkle in her eye appears, you dread what’s about to happen. “Sup, slugger?” The arm around you is entirely too heavy, but oddly comforting. Like a weighted blanket. “She took mushrooms.” You nod, Matt rubs your shoulder, you almost purr. “Having fun?” Normally, you have a love hate relationship with Matt. You both love to hate each other, but not seriously. Not that it’s been said, but you know Matt would protect you with anything in him if needed.
Tonight, right now, Matt is a solid force. “Permission to hug?” Ally’s eyes widen, she almost doubles down on the sentiment of doing drugs more often. “You wanna full on, front touch me?” Nevermind, Matt just ruined it, like he ruins everything. “Not anymore, you ruined it.”
“Oh, no, no, no. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Before you can try and dodge it, Matt’s got you in his hold. It’s very obvious he’s doing it for the pure enjoyment of annoying you, it’s almost endearing. Almost. You’d fight better at shoving him away but he’s got a warmth radiating from his chest and into yours.
Peter watches you bump hips across the room with Paul’s girlfriend, your fingers pull at her hair. A wild look crosses her face, two of you giggling.
“I didn’t know she was Ally’s friend.” Ethan scratches at his arm, Peter’s guard goes up. He knows why he’s surprised to know you were the friend in question, he doesn’t know why Ethan thinks so too.
Ethan shrugs and asks Peter about something, he can’t focus. “You know her?”
“Yeah, that’s my bio girl.”
Peter felt constricted, he doesn’t know why. “Wait, what? That’s my freshman.”
Ethan stares at the side of Peter’s head. “She’s not a freshman.” Peter sneers at his friend, “yeah, no shit.” Ethan kisses his teeth, “I invited her to the party.” He doesn’t know why, but Peter feels slightly challenged.
“So did I.” His arms cross over his chest, he mumbles the rest. “On the first day.”
“Funny. When I asked she said she had no plans.”
Peter can feel his jaw clench, he wants to kind of fucking punch him, if he’s being honest. And that makes him even more upset, because why is he so threatened? Ethan may have an inkling that his best friend wants you more than he does, but he also wants him to know he could have competition.
“Funny.” It’s clear Peter did not find it funny.
“She’s cool. You know, witty, kind, pretty…” Peter’s doing what he can to keep himself from walking away, he wants to scream that he had eyes on you first. But that’s an insane thought, only one that could be casted by a witch.
“She’s difficult and entitled.”
All Ethan hears is ‘she’s fucking perfect for me.’ And his mind was made up, you were no longer someone he’d pursue. You’re all Parker’s, because he wants you. Even if he won’t admit it, yet.
“So, you have no issue with me moving in on that?” Peter’s a little too quiet, choosing to nurse on his beer in hand. “Do what you want, man.” He finishes his drink, he looks back up at you, sharing a warm embrace with Paul.
“Cause, I don’t mind leaving it alone, if you want.” It takes a second, but Peter lightly shrugs. No words needed to be said, it told Ethan everything he needed to know. “You saw her first, it’s only fair.” It’s tiny, and it’s a microflash, but Peter grinned. What was understood, didn’t need to be explained.
Heavy steps found themselves at a familiar face.
“My roommate ditched me and this floor looks like a pirate ship.” You point down for good measure, Ethan’s a good sport and looks with you. “Is it moving?”
You nod quickly, glad he too can see the shifting boards. Ethan’s sweater catches your attention, it looks soft. By default he looks like a teddy bear, you can’t hold yourself back, latching yourself to the cashmere you run your hands over his back.
“It’s so soft.”
Ethan laughs, he has no issue returning the love. You melt under his touch, everything is so warm. “I can feel your hands.” Your lab partner knows exactly what’s going on, “yeah? What’d you take, X?”
You pull back to spread pixie dust from your fingertips, “magic mushrooms.” Lights flash in cohesion with the music, you’re awe at the sharp beauty. Swirls of color cloud your vision, loud bass rings your ears. Vibrations flow from your toes up to your knees, a circle of laughter around you is contagious.
You can’t stop the giggles, you weren’t sure who was laughing or why but it seemed so fitting.
You throw your head back, the room spins and you squeal when your waist is held tight.
“Ethan!” You hug him again, you can’t stop patting his sweater. “Wanna do some shots?” Ethan shakes his head, “no, you want some water.” You stop, “oh my god, yeah, that sounds so good.” Your lower back is nudged, you’re guided into the kitchen where you see a blur of motion.
Stumbling, your back collides into another body. You spin quickly, you can’t believe it’s taken this long to see him.
“Peter, hi!”
Your arms loop around his back, you pull him tight to you and sigh. He’s broader than Ethan, but his shirt can’t match Ethan’s sweater. Peter feels oddly frozen, you shuffle into him further, an awkward pat is granted to the middle of your back. “Hi.”
“No, no, like this.” You fix the placement, it’s like he’s never given a hug in his entire life. Peter’s offering no warmth, it feels like he’s just allowing you to have this moment. You give him an unsure glance when you pull back, “I’ll make you better, don’t worry.”
You’re stopped before you could try and teach Peter a proper hug. “Let’s not hug, Parker.” You blink wildly at your lab partner, before looking back at Peter, he has an unimpressed gaze on Ethan. “No hugs? You don’t like hugs?”
It’s unacceptable, you pull at Ethan’s arm. “Here, show him how it’s done.” Ethan tries to shake his head, you loop around his waist tightly. “See, Peter? This is how you hug.”
“I know how to hug.”
You smile and nudge away from the cashmere, your arms open wide. “Okay, show me.”
“No.”
A frown takes over, since he’s being mean, you can too.
“Fine. I don’t like your haircut, how about that?” Peter lacks the reaction you want him to give, “thank you.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Christine should’ve given you the mushrooms instead, you’re kinda grumpy.”
Ethan pushes you back, “okay, D.A.R.E. Water.” You took the bottle and looked between the two friends. “Be honest, did you guys know they were hooking up?”
Peter furrowed his eyebrows, you had the urge to rub it out. Ethan slapped your hand down. “Who?” You hold a finger up to pause the conversation, water has never tasted so clear.
“Mmm…” you blink awake. “Harvey and Christine. Did you think he wasn’t planning on me finding out? Was he fully prepared to try and bang me after he got head from another girl? Cause, I don’t think so.”
A song you haven’t heard before plays, it sends waves of warmth over your skin.
Ethan shrugs, “sounds like Harvey, yeah.”
You jeer around the plastic bottle, “boo.” Peter’s short circuiting in his brain. You were hooking up with Harvey? The pieces were muddling. His Harvey? That guy sucks. Peter reacts subconsciously, grabbing whatever you handed him. An empty water bottle, you smile, “thanks!” He grunts before tossing it in the kitchen sink.
“This party would be so much better if Taylor Swift was playing.”
It takes everything in Peter not to roll his eyes, Ethan one ups him in a second.
“Which album?”
You gasp, Peter swears he sees a sparkle in your eyes. For a split second he regrets not asking you the same thing. “Any of them! Do you like her too?”
Peter thought his best friend read between the lines from their earlier conversation. He assumes he didn’t.
“She’s alright, I have a few of her vinyls.” Record scratch, Peter just lost you. Your hand grabbed Ethan’s shoulder, you leaned in closer and gave him doe eyes. “No way, I don’t believe you. Which ones?”
Ethan laughs, “I have them in my room, swear to god. I like her sister albums.”
Peter watches your hand slide down his sleeve until you latch around his wrist, “show me.” Ethan shrugs, “alright, we can-” Peter steps in front of him, the path blocked.
“Keznek.” As in, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, right?
“Parker.” As in, do you really think that low of me?
A third name is brought into the mix, Peter looks down, you’re smiling big at him and for a second he feels like he’s smiling back.
“Who’s that?”
You point at yourself, “me.”
He finally has your name, it’s fitting. He doesn’t think he’s ever thought a name could fit a person, until he heard yours. A weird urge to compliment it tugs at him, he buries it down. Witch.
Attention back on Ethan, “you swear you have them?” He’s almost offended you’d ask, “promise.” You look to Peter, “can you confirm?” Peter sucks in a breath through his teeth, he shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.”
The answer is obvious, “I have to verify, if you’re telling the truth you’ll win cool points forever.” Plan impeded, the chapter president just walked through the kitchen, a gleam in the wolves eye. His hand clapped Peter’s chest, the light abuse caused you to frown.
“Nice to see you’re making friends with Parker.”
You flip the script, a fake smile. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Ethan laughed behind you and was immediately silenced with a harsh glare from Trent. “Watch it, Keznek.” Peter’s face hardened at the tone.
“You’re taking my advice, I love to see it.”
Peter has his eyes on you, it takes strength to ignore it. “Wanna talk about advice? You should play some Taylor Swift.” Trent scoffs, “get fucked.” Peter speaks up before you have a chance, “hey, woah.” The head of the house wasn’t about to be talked to like he was a chapter officer, even if he was. His response was pushing Peter back and walking away.
“I understand why he’s the president,” you watch the room swirl together. “He’s super mature.” Smacking your lips, you blindly reach for Ethan. “Do you see these fucking lights right now?” Peter glances around, it’s the same party lighting they use each time.
“Are they dragging?” You focus in, when you move your head slow trails of light follow. “Yeah, woah.” Peter clears his throat, the sound cupped around your ears. “Your friend here, freshman?” You spin, “who’s friend?”
Peter looks at Ethan for a second, you’re busy trying to pull at a loose thread on Peter’s sleeve. “How are you getting home tonight?” You twirl the strand around your finger, the tension snaps it. When the blood returns to your fingertip, it warms your entire hand.
“Dunno yet. I’ll figure it out later.” You look down at your feet, they seem like they’re a million miles away from you. The floor shifts underneath you, it makes your knees shake, you clutch Ethan’s arm to balance yourself. “Pirate ship?” You nod, “ahoy, matey.”
Peter shifts when you take him in, more or less just focused on his face. He stands a little taller, then questions it, because why would he care about how tall you perceived him to be? “Peter,” he waits. Pointing behind you, “wanna do a shot? Ethan refused, like he hates me or something.” You can’t stop looking at him, the lights dance over his face, casting him in an angelic glow like no other.
“You think mixing shots with mushrooms is a good idea?” You move around, like your body couldn’t stand holding still. “Just one.” One wouldn’t hurt, and it’s not like he’s doing it for you or anything, he planned on having a shot anyways. You were just another person to pour for.
“Sure. Pick the poison.” You answer quickly, an honest response. “Rat.” Ethan starts to laugh and it’s contagious, you start giggling too. You don’t know why he’s laughing, but it feels good to have someone to laugh with. Peter tilts his head to the ceiling with a heavy sigh, “no, freshman. I meant booze.”
“Oh! Not vodka, I hate vodka, I can taste it in anything, even when Ally mixes it with Hawaiian Punch. So, please never give me vodka. I hate it.”
Peter smirks at Ethan, “so, vodka?” You sputter, you wonder if you confused love and hate in your speech. You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no, Peter. I hate vodka, please don’t give me any.”
Ethan slides a bottle down to Peter, it’s a party classic. Peter waits on you, “this good enough for you, princess?” It was sarcastic as all hell, but it still made you feel warm and fuzzy. “Yes, prince.” Peter just shook his head while he poured them up.
Raised glasses, you wait for the toast. “Here’s to A’s, C’s, and double D’s.” The words made you send a glare to Peter, it seemed like he was waiting for it. “You know, like grades?” It’s not what he meant, all three of you knew it, but you couldn’t fight him on it either. It still works, a cheer is a cheer.
Normally, you’d find Fireball warming, tonight, you find it burning. You almost choke on it, holding it in your mouth for longer than you should’ve, the instant sting had caught you off guard. “Jesus Christ, freshy. Swallow.” It’s like you need a reminder, you’re able to take it down; a shutter takes over your body.
You turn to your lab partner, a sour look on your face. “Why did you let me do that? You’re supposed to be smart.” Ethan holds his hands up, you’re not about to throw him under the bus. “Hey, I tried. You’re the one that only wanted Parker’s opinion.”
SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 9TH. CATHEDRAL HALL.
Peter was dragged out of his bed a little too early for a saturday in his opinion. He woke up to Trent hanging over his bed, poking him harshly on his shoulder. “The fuck do you want, Simpson?” If Peter had to guess what time it was by the shadow in his room, it was pushing early morning.
“Get up. We need to go somewhere.” Peter blinked quickly, dragging a heavy hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Now?” Trent started to stab, Peter slapped his hand away. “The fuck, man?” His president wasn’t playing around. “Get the fuck up, Parker.”
Only when Peter sat up did Trent back away, “don’t wake anyone up. I need you downstairs in five.” When his door was shut, Peter squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to taste the idea of sleep one more time. Then, he got up, tugged on sweatpants and a hoodie, and silently crept downstairs.
Peter tried to ask what was going on, and where they were going, but Trent just kept saying, ‘you’ll see,’ and ‘shut the fuck up and trust me.’ It wasn’t until he was walking up the steps to Cathedral hall, he had an odd feeling, a slight buzz in his stomach. It heightened when they took a turn for the girls section.
“Hey, Simpson, if this is a planned parenthood thing-”
“Shut the fuck up, Parker.” Out of nowhere he stopped, Peter almost ran into him. Trent banged on an decorated door, a whiteboard with Ally’s name, the other one had been swiped, the name unclear. “I thought Ally was at the house?” Trent beat the door harder, “she is.”
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, he was about to ask, yet again, why they were there. The answer came when the door flew open, eyes squinting at the hallway lighting, stands you. “You’re not Ally.”
Peter’s slightly surprised you’re home, he had no idea when or how you left last night. He also doesn’t really care.
“No shit,” you lightly scoffed when Trent shoved his way in, your shoulder hitting the doorframe. “Good morning to you, too, dick.” Peter gently walked in, making sure not to bump against you. It made you smile lightly, “good morning, Peter.” He nodded back, “morning.” Trent bounced on Ally’s bed, it produced a loud creak. “No wonder she’s always at the house.”
You sat on the edge of your own bed, gesturing to the spot next to you or your desk chair for a seating option for Peter; he chose the chair. Peter looked over your face while you woke up, your eyes puffy from being rubbed at, you stretched with arms over your head, a peek of skin showed your stomach.
“You look sick.” It snapped you from your daze, you frowned at Trent. “Thanks, it’s my natural beauty.” Trent pulled a sour look, “that’s what girls look like without makeup?” Peter doesn’t really notice a difference, and that’s not a bad thing. “It’s too early for your shit, Simpson.” He looks towards you, you poke your tongue out at Trent, a childish moment to prove you had someone on your side and not his.
Peter watches you lean back, velvety thighs on display. A hand goes behind your back, a plush resurfaced. Spider-Man sits on your lap, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He thinks it’s a squishmellow of some sort, he remembers he hooked up with a girl last year with at least twenty on her bed. She didn’t have a Spider-Man one though.
“How are you feeling?” You look tired, maybe a little hungover. Little to no energy. Peter thinks it’s the comedown of your previous night's choices. You grin, holding Spider-Man a little tighter. “Like a champ, you?”
Trent scoffs, “enough bullshit, wench. You know why we’re here.” Peter feels the hair on his neck stand up, Trent can be a prick, but he really has a vendetta against you. “Jesus Christ, Simpson. She’s a human being.” It’s the bare minimum, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “It’s okay, Peter. He’s just mad he can’t satisfy women.”
Trent flies up, “fuck you! I’m doing you a fucking favor and-” Peter stands up just as quick, pushing Trent back down with a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, Simpson.” With Peter as mediator, you don’t worry about standing up for yourself.
“You’re not doing me a favor, I’m doing you a favor! You’re the one that couldn’t hold up your end of the bargain, you asshole!” Trent fights against Peter’s hold, “you’re the one that came to me!” You throw your Spider-Man to the side and step up, Peter backs up against your chest, literally using his body as a barrier. “You’re the one that involved Peter!”
Peter shoves hard on Trent’s chest, it sends him flying back into Ally’s bed. You step back, Peter’s doing his best to look between the two of you. It’s exasperated, “involved me in what?” It goes silent, you weren’t going to say anything, you were the one who told Trent to fix it. Trent’s the one that brought in Peter, Trent’s the one to surprise you with a visit.
Trent’s breathing is harsh, he’s more worked up than you are. You don’t know if it’s the situation or your comments, but you’re not saying a word until he does. “Look, your friend here, she’s the one that got us the intel on the other frats.” Trent’s a lot more gentle this time around, you think it may have something with the way Peter’s looking at him, daring him to try and make a move.
Peter glances back at you, you look away, a poster more interesting. “She needs something in return and I can’t help her. I told her to ask you and I’d look the other way, but someone had to be difficult.”
“I held up my end, Simpson. You do the same.” Trent huffed, “I fucking told you-” he lowered his voice at Peter’s glare, “- that I couldn’t do anything. I told you to ask Parker and you were the one that stormed out all pissed. I brought him here, isn’t that good enough?”
Your arms cross, no, it wasn’t good enough. “I never wanted to involve Peter, I told you that last night. I just wanted you to figure out a way to fix it.” Trent throws his arm out at Peter, “I did! He’s fucking here! He’s gonna fucking fix it!”
Peter feels like he’s going crazy, “fix what?” His chapter president rubs at his forehead, a heavy sigh. “You need to pledge… Fuck, what was his name?” You roll your eyes, you have little to no hope. “Isaac Barns.” Trent nods, “yeah, him. Parker, all I need you to do is pledge him and this-” an allover gesture to your body, “-goes away.”
Peter takes a second to let it sink in, he almost laughs, but it seems a little too real to be a joke. “Dirty rushing, really? You do know what’s at stake if I say yes, right?” Trent’s jaw looks like it’s about to break into a thousand pieces with the tension it’s under. “Yes, Parker, I know what I’m asking.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “right, so you understand why I have to say no.”
You jump in, your hand on Peter’s arm, pulling him to face you. He’s staring at the placement, it’s sending a burn up and down, radiating heat. You pull away before he can shake your hold off, “please?” Peter steps away from Trent with a final warning glance, “tell me, freshman. Are you in a sorority?” You frown, “no.” He nods, like he already knew the answer. “Right. And are you aware of what could happen to me if I agree?” You have an idea, and it tells you it wouldn’t be good. “That’s if you get caught, you have Trent’s go ahead.”
Peter laughs, he doesn’t give a shit Trent’s right there. “You think I trust him to have my back? He’d throw me under the bus in a second.” Peter doesn’t know what you know, you look in Trent’s eyes when you respond, making it clear that that would never happen. “Then trust me, and trust me when I say he won’t.”
Trent looks away from Peter, he makes the connection in a second.
“What do you have on Simpson?” You sputter, you feel a flush of warmth coat you. “I’m not like… some blackmailer or anything.” Trent shouts out from the bed, “ha!” Your eyes flash to the same poster from before, nothing has changed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. President. Do you want to share with the peanut gallery?” Peter raises his hands, displeased, “don’t insult me and ask for a favor in the same breath.”
“Look, Parker, just fucking pledge the kid, alright? It stays between us. Don’t think I don’t have shit to lose by letting this happen. I have the same risk you do.” Peter disagrees, “you’re not the one pledging.” Trent stands up, “but I’m cutting whoever she tells me. We’re both playing dirty.”
Peter’s trying to think about it logically, he just doesn’t understand why. You have all the answers, they’re only there because of you. “Why?” You pause, “what, this guy your boyfriend or something?” You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no. Not at all. He doesn’t even know I’m doing this. He’s just a person I know who’s rushing, that’s it.”
Peter kisses his teeth and shakes his head in disbelief, “yeah, I don’t know about that.” Total defeat, you were at a loss. Your answer was Trent, if Peter wouldn’t do it, Trent needed to find someone who would. “Trent,” it comes out as a whine, a defiant toddler pointing at Peter.
“C’mon, Parker. Think about this. You’re smarter than your own good.” Peter sizes his president up, he really doesn’t like what he’s implying. “And I’m supposed to trust you?” You push on Peter’s arm, “no, you’re supposed to trust me. Trent won’t touch you, no matter your answer. Even though I really wish it was yes.”
Peter’s doing his best to push down all emotion, because if he wasn’t, he’d find out that he wanted to say yes. Just because you asked him. And that’s not who he is, or what he does. He’s known you for a week and he’s about to put his entire academic career at hand, it’s dehumanizing to himself. Witch.
“Fine.” You cheer, Peter’s whipped into a side hug. He claws your arms away from him, “I didn’t say yes. I’ll think about it, okay?” You nod, it’s enough for you, “thank you so much, Peter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Trent throws his hands up, “hello? You’re welcome.” You sneer at him, “you did nothing but put it all on Peter.” Peter tilts his head, he didn’t think about it like that, but you’re right. “You’re insufferable and will never find a man to put up with that.” That was a blow, a harsh one at that. You’re pretty good at brushing things off, or firing back, but Trent went a little too far. He hit that deep down, hidden, insecurity.
You just really wanted to go back to sleep, the thought of Peter in your room no longer slightly excited you. You just wanted to be alone. “Jesus fucking Christ, Trent. Who the fuck says shit like that?” You shrug, “it’s obvious he was just giving me constructive criticism.” You try to joke, it doesn’t really work.
Peter looks down at you, it’s like you sunk down into the floor. Trent made you feel small. “It’s not funny, nothing about that was funny. That was fucked up, Simpson, the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s not an ounce of remorse on his face either, “sorry.” Peter wants to break his arm, instead he shoves him towards the door, nothing near gentle. “You’re a fucking dick.”
“Yeah, and you just wanna stick yours in her.” If he wouldn’t be at grounds of expulsion from the frat, Peter would’ve laid him the fuck out right then and there. “Shut the fuck up, Simpson. Just leave it alone.” He does, and throws the door open before parting you with a middle finger.
Peter pauses at the door, his eyes on your figure. It’s not like he cares about you or anything, Trent was a dick, an uncalled for amount of mean. “Don’t listen to him, he’s still reeling from that ‘can’t please a woman,’ comment.” You give a small smile, “thanks, Peter.”
Peter’s hand holds the door handle, a tight lipped grin. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he just has to tell you. Clearing his throat, “hey, freshman?” You perk up, he finds himself looking down at your mouth, eyes trailing towards your collarbone. Peter stops himself, it’s not about that right now.
“You’re not… you’re not totally insufferable.”
Something about it makes you explode, you can’t stop the cheek hurting grin. For a second, Peter matches it. “Are you saying I’ll find a man to put up with me?” Peter shrugs a shoulder, “the world is pretty big, freshman. There’s gotta be at least one.”
At least Peter won’t think you’ll die alone, he might even be at your side. “Thanks, Peter. For everything. And for thinking about it, it means a lot to me.” Peter closing the door on himself, he briefly pauses, “just because I said I’d think about it, doesn’t mean I’ll do it.” You nod, “I know.”
“Good. I just didn’t want you to get disappointed.” Your eyes brighten, “you care about disappointing me?”
It goes unanswered, instead, Peter takes a deep inhale. “I’ll see you around.” With that, you were alone with Spider-Man once more.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH, ESU DINING HALL.
The plastic chair next to Peter slides out, nickel legs scratch the tile underneath them.
“So, how are we feeling about a verdict?”
Peter doesn’t even flinch, he takes a bite of his sandwich. It was better before it was ruined by the presence of a demonic presence. Your hands drum on the table like you’re building yourself up for a yes, Peter thinks it’s funny you find him so easy.
“It’s been two days, freshman.” You huff dramatically, “not a freshman.”
“You act like one.”
This is the part where you question your attraction towards him, it’s proof to the saying ‘you can’t pick who you love.’ You lean closer, it’s not about semantics. Peter pulls back when you get too close, he must be scared of another hug.
“It’s a pretty easy answer, Peter. If you won’t do it, fine. But your president better figure out another way and quickly. We already have the PNM list, you make the choice sunday.”
It isn’t his problem but the more he knows about it, the more it becomes his. Peter can’t deny the curiosity, for a witch you have no real magic, beyond what you’ve casted on him.
Peter sighs, “alright, explain it to me. Sell it to me.” You sit straighter and fix your hair, clearing your throat you interlock your fingers on the table and begin to pitch. “I’m going on the ski trip this year, yay you.” You pout dramatically, “I needed money because my boyfriend isn’t a member of the frat and I wasn’t budgeted in.” Your words were a nod towards Ally, as if she couldn’t pay for it herself if she needed to.
Peter wants to bang his head against the table, there’s no fucking way he had to spend a week with you in a house. That’s constant communication. That’s hell.
“We bet every year on a member that makes it in, if we win, we get the money. I upped the stakes this year, and I know someone who signed up to rush.” You smile and poke at his arm, it’s solid. Peter looks down at your finger, you pull back and finish.
“That’s where you come in. You pick him.”
Peter crosses his arms over his chest while he tilts his chair back, he’s mulling it over in his mind. He looks over your face while he pokes at his cheek with his tongue, if that’s his concentration face, you hope to make him think a lot more.
“What do I get out of it?” In Peter’s mind, it’s a bit unfair. He’s putting his reputation, spot in the frat and possibly academic probation on the line. And he gets nothing out of it. He doesn’t even want anything in return, or nothing he can think of at the moment at least. It still feels like he has to bargain for something, he’d regret it later.
You try to hide the shock, you didn’t think Peter was that kind of guy. You didn’t know him, but you didn’t take him for a sexual favors type of person. You wanted to hook up with him, sure. But when he felt like it was owed to him, it felt icky.
“Oh,” you look around the room, your voice lowers. The deal took a dirty turn. “What, um…” You look back at him before escaping eye contact, you don’t feel as bold. “What did you have in mind?”
You didn’t hide the shock well, Peter’s chair is back on four legs with a slam. “No, god no.” Okay, he wasn’t asking for sex, but god no? Peter worded it wrong, you took it as a personal offense. “Not…” He’s not even going to try and explain that one out, he ditches the part where he would try to say ‘not that I wouldn’t have sex with you, because I would, but…’
“I’m not asking for you to fuck me, I just meant I’m putting a lot on the line for a girl who assaulted me and a guy I barley like.” Assault is a harsh word, you’d fight him on it but the last part mattered more. You could give him the dirt on Trent, he said if anyone knew he would prefer it to be Peter.
“Wanna know what I have on Trent?” You have his attention, suddenly Peter looks very interested in what you have to say. He nibbles on his bottom lip for a second before nodding, for this part, you really lean in.
“He failed out. The school sent him a letter saying he was dismissed, he had a fourteen average.” Peter’s trying to connect the dots, for once, he truly had no idea what was going on in the frat house. “His dad donated eighty-six grand, anonymously, and the next day? Bam. Reenlisted and all roles reinstated, like nothing ever happened.” Peter’s not surprised one bit, it’s very on brand for the Simpson family, to pay their way out of trouble. At least he can say you didn’t leave him empty handed, it’s good ammo to have in the back of his pocket.
“I’ll consider your request more seriously.” It’s something, and you’ll celebrate it, you pull him into a hug, just for a quick second to squeal in his ear. You’re shrugged off in a second, you don’t care. “Thank you! See, I just knew I picked the good one!”
The good one?
You’re up and pushing the seat in, your bag hung over a shoulder. “I’ll see you friday?” In relation to the weekly party, he nods slowly, like you’re an idiot. “I do live there, yes.” You’re unfazed, you’ve come to realize he’s just a mildly grumpy person. It’s mostly cute.
“Will you let me know then, is that enough time?” Peter will do anything to have you leave, he wants five minutes of peace with his lunch before he has thermodynamics. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Your eyes sparkle, he has to look back at his plate. “Thank you, Peter. You’re the bestest.”
You really, truly are a witch. Because his sandwich tasted a whole lot sweeter when you walked away. It turned into sog the second you placed yourself at Ally and Paul’s table. Ally’s eyes flashing over to his, a grin when he was caught looking your way. He finished in record time, he needed to get out of the room, it was starting to get a little too warm for his comfort.
Ally started in the second you placed yourself across from her, eyes flashing to where you previously were. “Hanging out with Parker?” You shrug, if it helps getting her off your back, it helps. “He’s cute.” A squeal, she pulls at her boyfriend's arm. “Did you hear that? Matty, ask Parker if he’s into her.”
Matt crushes a coke can, a burp follows. “No.” Ally’s face scrunches up, “why not?” Matt’s swiping at his phone, you can’t tell what game he’s playing, the glare from the lights are too bad. “Cause it’s not my business, or yours.” Ally pulls away from him entirely, her arms crossed over her chest in a huff. Uh oh, she’s mad.
“Babe, can you get me a water? My wallet is in my backpack.” When she makes no move, he peeks over, “please? I can’t pause this level.” It’s a huff from his girlfriend, “what? You’re mad at me now? Look, I can’t even ask him if I wanted to, he’s leaving.” You look over your shoulder, Peter’s walking out with headphones stuffed in his ears, blind to the outside noise. How lucky.
“Yeah, good thing you don’t live together or anything, Matt.” It has his total attention, “no need for that hostility, honey. If you want me to ask, I’ll ask.” It’s the right move, and he played right into Ally’s hand. A cluster of kisses to his cheek, “thank you, Matty. Love you.” A smile’s back on his face, his reward was his request being honored.
The second Ally’s out of earshot you laugh at her boyfriend. “She plays you like a fool.”
Matt doesn’t care one bit. “Yeah, love makes you do that. You’ll find out, she-devil.”
You just hope you’re not the fool.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH, QUEENS, NEW YORK.
A six car pileup on the bridge caught Spider-Man’s attention, adrenalin courses his veins, any traces of that six egg omelet from Linda weighing him down vanishes. A screech of his name, he clocks it instantly. A woman, barely fourty. Spider-Man knows who it is, it’s the reporter that called him a Spider-Menace last week. Oh, how the mighty fall.
A head tilt at the woman, she’s panicking. Thrashing in her seat, crumpled between glass and leather. She’s begging him for help, he watches for a moment before speaking over the screams. “Calm down, I’m gonna help you. Just felt like being a menace.” Tears, she speed runs apologies, tells him it’s just a job and her son loves him.
“Alright, alright, come here.’ A grown woman, clinging to his hip is almost comedic. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Spider-Man doesn’t need to hear it a million times, it doesn’t mean much to him after the first one. “You’re alright, just wait over here for the fire department, okay?”
There’s countless other shouts, he’s already running back up the freeway. Spider-Man has no plans to stay in the city after this, no, instead Peter is going to take the long train back and listen to a podcast. But right now, Spider-Man has a job to do.
CATHEDRAL HALL.
Three copies of the same page, everyone calls a name.
Ally starts, “I call Conner Frise.”
Prince next, “Sam Mason.”
Ally pokes your shoulder, “c’mon, what’s your pick?”
You pretend to think about it, two pairs of eyes waiting expectantly. You grin, “Isaac Barns.” Confidence spills, “and I’m gonna win.”
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Peter’s clouded in infatuation. If he was animated, he’d have hearts and stars swirling around his head. Maybe it was the booze that had him feeling so loose, for once dropping the urge to push you away, and to pull you closer. Or maybe it was you. All he could smell was your perfume, it choked him in the right ways. Something he’d be smelling long after you were gone, something that made him want to breathe in against your neck.
You haven’t left him alone all night, circling back over and over until all he could think about was you, you, you.
He didn’t know a neck could be so pretty, how he’d kiss over your pulse and hope it would race as much as his. And he never really noticed hair, until it framed your face. Peter was never much on picking up sounds, but now he’s heard your laugh, the one he pulled from you, he’d never be able to unhear it.
And your voice. It whispered a song into his ears, it sent him leaning in, begging for more of the inflections. Peter didn’t care what you were talking about, as long as you were speaking to him, he’d listen. He wasn’t one to notice clothes, only when they fit just right or left little to the imagination. But on you, everything was your color.
Peter can’t think of anything else but your lips, they’re puffed while you spin words. Velvet tumbles produced, hints of a smile around your ‘S’s. It’s like you don’t notice him getting closer, as he steps forward, you step back. You weren’t trying to escape, it was subconscious, you were making more room for him, you don't realize he doesn't want space.
“It was really kind of sad, because the whole time you were rooting for the main character,” he’d asked you about a book he saw in your room. He doesn’t really care about it.
“Right,” one step closer.
“But then it all comes down at the end and you realize he really wasn’t a good guy,” Peter takes another step, your back brushes the brick wall. Little pricks dig into your shirt, it doesn’t stop you.
“And then?”
You smile, “this is where it gets good,” Peter leans his hand on the wall next to your head, you make no notice. “It is.” It’s more of a statement than a question, he’s relaying it to his own situation.
“You find out he set up his friend,” it was the twist, you’d been setting it up, but Peter has no reaction. You wonder if he was even listening to you, maybe it would’ve been better if he had read it himself.
“Are you listening to me? Cause I just kind of just spoiled the whole thing.”
Peter can’t stop himself, he leans in. His head hangs low, you raise your chin to look in his eyes. How have you still not picked up on his hints? “Why’d he set him up?” You hum, a sparkle forms in your eyes, he was listening.
“Well, if we're talking about my personal analysis, I think it’s cause-”
Your lips are pillowy, puffed under his mouth as they’re wrapped around your words. Your skin is warm under his hands, he can feel your hips burning his palms over your clothes. Peter tugs you closer while simultaneously pushing you further into the brick, when you hum into his kiss, he licks your bottom lip.
Open mouth kisses, your hands tug at the curls on the back of his neck, he’s not one for girls playing with his hair. But you, he wants you to touch wherever you want. He can’t fucking breathe, but he doesn’t care, you’re enough of a breath of fresh air. Peter feels more alive in this moment than he has in a long time.
You pull from him, puffs of air tumble. Peter’s desperate for more, you’re just so sweet. Wet marks dot from your jaw to your neck, your hands tug at the lapels of his flannel. “Peter,” it’s breathless, he wonders if it’s the kiss or him.
Hands tuck under your thighs, you gasp as you’re pulled up to equal height on the wall. Your legs loosely straddle his waist, nails digging into his shoulder when he hums over the middle of your throat between gentle bites and smoothing his tongue over the attack. “Fuck,” it’s a whimper, you don’t mean to, but fuck.
Maybe he shouldn’t have cornered you like this, but what’d you expect looking at him like that?
Peter retraces his steps, all you can think is that he tastes as sweet as he feels. It was everything you’d been pining for, and more. You were screaming in color, each grip of his hands felt like water paint, soaking deep and spreading.
Would it be selfish if you wished he felt the same?
“Parker, you out here?”
You squeak, your feet hit the ground. Peter’s head is spinning, his instinct to get as far away as possible. “Yeah,” it’s airy. He clears his throat, you look over his face, he’s avoiding eye contact. “Peter,” you feel a jolt when he backs away. A stab when he steps around the corner, you try to follow, he’s quicker.
You feel everything crumble when you realize he doesn’t want anyone to know he was with you.
“Where you at? We’re mixing everclear for the PNM’s.”
“Peter,” it’s on deaf ears. He doesn’t even look at you, how could he kiss you like that and then act like it was nothing? Why would he kiss you like that if it meant nothing?
“Right here,” you watch his back disappear. “Tequila if we’re evil, beer to make them puke.” His frat brother laughs, “you’re a sick man, Parker.”
It really, really doesn’t feel nice to be left behind in the cold. Especially when he just made you feel so warm. And it really doesn’t feel right when you want to cry, and it feels humiliating when you give him a grace period, just so you didn’t follow him from the back of the house. Just so no one would see you, just so no one would know what just happened.
Just so you could keep it to yourself.
You feel nothing when a shoulder hits yours, your fingers feel hot from the contrast of the breezy outdoors to the crowded, humid room of bodies. Ally’s arm hangs over your neck, you want to scream.
Peter’s eyes catch your frown, he should’ve done more. But if he doesn’t understand anything, how would his frat brothers? He feels bad, and a little more sober than he should be, a little too sober to have done what he just did. A line of shots, Peter adds an two extra, but he doesn’t add everclear, he chooses Fireball.
A pink, plastic shot glass slid in front of you. You look up, Peter’s waiting and watching, he raises his own. “Cheers, freshman.” It’s something, he’s waiting on your call, you’re so close and you can’t blow it now. You plaster on a smile and shake Ally’s arm off, you raise it up.
“Cheers, Parker.”
Peter must’ve had more than he thinks, because wow, what a gross feeling.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE
Peter does his best to be a good person, part of that is knowing when you fuck up. And what he did at his party on friday, was a fuck up. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about you, or your feelings, but he could admit that he pulled a shitty move. So shitty he dodged you the rest of the night and left you high and dry with his answer about your favor.
You didn’t even have a way to try and contact him, other than beating down his door but even you knew that would be a bad idea. Which leads him to now, standing on the front lawn, with thirty two potential pledges.
Peter’s turn to bid. A terrible idea. But all he could think about was getting back in your good graces and how much it fucking annoyed him to want that. Peter can feel Trent’s eyes burning into him, he takes a step forward, boldness in his chest.
“I bid Isaac Barns.”
It would either be the worst or best decision of his life and for whatever reason, you’re worth the gamble.
CATHEDRAL HALL
its.parker requested to follow you.
Your eyes widened, suddenly you’re very awake. Peter’s the one that kissed you, Peter’s the one that walked away, Peter’s the one that ignored you. Peter’s the one that followed you. Mixed messages, but it proved something. It wasn’t his main with ten pictures, it was his personal, his finsta, the one full of his personality.
You nibble on your bottom lip, it shouldn’t be that easy for him. Tapping on his account you hit the request button, just because you follow him doesn’t mean he gets to follow you. Mind spinning, you replay friday night again.
The tension eased and multiplied in one action. Peter had made you feel butterflies in the deepest pits of your stomach, when he kissed down your neck, when he wrapped your legs around his waist, when he went in for more, when he kissed you first.
Even thinking about it makes your cheeks hurt from a grin, you squeal out and kick your feet in your bed. Peter Parker kissed you, and it meant something. It had to, something tells you that Peter doesn’t jump without thinking.
Peter’s holding his breath while refreshing his page, still no notifications. He’s worried he blew it that night, not that it matters, it was just a kiss. Everyone kisses, if you really think about it, kisses don’t mean much. At least that’s what he tells himself.
spider.luvr66 requested to follow you.
If he acts now, he’d be a bit crazy. You hadn’t responded to him, but he doesn’t care. He’ll wait a couple minutes, then respond. It feels like his brain is melting, he’s not supposed to, and doesn’t feel like this. It’s against who he is now.
But, fuck, you make it difficult for him to not think about you. Peter swears you’re a witch.
Accept. spider.luvr66 is now following you.
Follow request accepted, you are now following its.parker.
You sit up, it was quick, you wonder if he was waiting for the notification. It doesn’t matter, you have the Peter Parker bible in your hands, and you were about to do some research.
You finally had access to his posts, and you were about to scroll through every single one. But the most recent one was the most important of all. A picture of Peter, crossed arms back to back with a slightly familiar face. The caption told you everything you needed to know about Peter.
‘big brother season.’
You had your bid and he posted the proof.
Whatever he did friday was forgiven. That wasn’t who he was, but this, putting himself on the line for you, this was his true character and whether he wanted you to notice that or not, you did.
And it was a bold act for a guy who pretended he didn’t kiss you breathless.
#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker blurb#tasm!peter x you#frat!peter parker#frat!peter#uni#my writing
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