#// but i never took biochem so this is what you get | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munson-blurbs · 1 month

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Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.

A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers

Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika

“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”

“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down.

“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”

He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.”

He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”

“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint.

“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?

“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”

He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office.

Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again.

Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground.

You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner.

What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone.

Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl.

Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates.

“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”

Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”

Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around.

Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.

The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe.

Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves.

“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing.

“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination.

Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though.

A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.

“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman.

Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction.

You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen.

Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone.

The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”

“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”

A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”

Eddie smirks. “One…two—”

Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits.

Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself.

Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land.

His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though.

Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?

Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk.

In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside.

Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit.

“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”

“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you.

“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”

“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds.

“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”

“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”

“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”

He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”

“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so.

“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”

A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”

“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”

“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”

Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”

“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”

He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey.

All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—

A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”

“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”

“Don’t care.”

Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies.

Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs.

Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately.

“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.”

You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch.

Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter.

“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you.

The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice.

One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible.

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”

He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom.

The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.

“Get the fuck out!” you hiss.

Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.

Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.

“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.”

Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them.

Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”

You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind.

“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle.

A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”

“Only for you,” you echo.

He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”

The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror.

When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.

“Atta girl,” he praises.

At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”

The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle.

He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”

You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip.

“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading.

“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached.

“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”

You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.”

Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl.

One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles.

“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”

He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you.

Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him.

A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.

“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.

“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”

Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in.

The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.

“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.

“Yeah?”

“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had.

Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”

A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.

“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”

A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can.

“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”

You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”

Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur:

“You read my mind, Beautiful.”

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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bratzforchris · 7 months

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Billionaire Baby

❃

Summary: In which Luke pays off your tuition in full and only asks for one thing in return

Pairing: Sugar daddy and investment banker!Luke x sub!reader

Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, nonsexual submission, overstimulation, jacuzzi fucking, doggy style, mentions of free use, unprotected p in v, fingering, underage drinking given to reader by Luke, sugar daddy mentions, student (university/18+) x older male relationship, bondage, Luke has an obedience kink, overall really fucking filthy and a bit fluffy ;)

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Luke leans more towards boyfriend instead of sugar daddy than I originally planned, but I still adore this work anyway. I put my heart and soul into this piece, so reblogs are much appreciated :)!

DNI under 18

❃

“What the fuck…” You mumbled, scrolling through your email.

You were sitting in the library, trying to study for your upcoming biochem exam, but failing a bit. You were getting distracted by everything, hence why you were scrolling through your email on your laptop instead of studying. The email was from two hours ago and it was asking you to come to the dean’s office today at three for a meeting.

You began to panic a bit, wondering why on earth the dean wanted to have a meeting with you. You had never, ever been in trouble academically or ever, for that matter. You were a bit behind on your loan payments, but not so much they were rescinding your admission, right? You cursed when you realized that it was currently two-thirty, and the dean’s office was on the other side of campus.

Quickly shoving your laptop, books, and stationery into your bookbag, you hurried out of the library that you loved oh-so-dearly. Going to Columbia University had been your dream since second grade, and that day that you saw the main library on your tour in tenth grade just confirmed that this was the school for you.

You slowed your pace a bit when you got closer to the building, taking a moment to soak in the crisp, fall air and the splotches of autumn that decorated the New York City sidewalks. You pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself and hurried up the steps of the School of Professional Studies.

“Hi,” You whispered quietly to the lady at the front desk as you signed in.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, eyeing you up and down. “You’re a very lucky girl.” she winked.

You furrowed your brow, wanting to ask what she meant, but not wanting to be rude. You eventually just shook your head and sat down in the lobby while you waited to be called back. This was a huge school, full of children of the rich and famous. She must’ve had you confused with someone else.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” the dean asked, walking out into the lobby. “Follow me.”

You quickly picked up your backpack and followed him, deep into the building where his office was sat. You struggled a bit to keep up with his long strides, being a bit out of breath when you finally reached his office.

“Take a seat,” he said not unkindly, opening the door for you. “This will be quick.”

You took a tentative seat on one of the down chairs on the opposite side of the desk, trying to control your breathing. You were afraid your features would show your fear, so you tried to keep your face even.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you are extremely lucky…” he started. “Your tuition has been paid in full by an anonymous donor, to include everything you will need to complete your undergraduate degree.” he smiled.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, trying to stay polite, but also wanting to know what the fuck was going on.

“Someone has paid your tuition in full. Do you have any idea who it could be?”

“I…no…” You said, hoping the blush wouldn’t creep onto your cheeks.

You knew exactly who it was. There was only one person in your life that had that much money. Ivy League schooling wasn’t cheap, after all. You wouldn’t tell the dean who it was, though. That wouldn’t be good for a number of reasons.

“Enjoy your time here at Columbia, Y/N. You’re free to go.” the dean smiled, nodding towards the door.

You stood on shaky legs and walked out of the room, trying to process what you had just heard. No more student loan payments, no more living paycheck-to-paycheck, no more working at your shitty fast food job until 2 am. You pulled your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and typed out a message as you walked out of the building and stood on the steps.

You: was it you???

Luke: Was what me, darling?

You: you know exactly what i’m talking about

You sighed, deciding to walk the half a block to your favorite cafe while you waited for Luke’s response. Your relationship with the blond was complicated. He wasn’t quite your sugar daddy, but he also wasn’t fully your boyfriend. It was never meant to spiral into a relationship, but Luke made you want more. Being a Columbia graduate himself, you had met him at a philanthropy event last spring. You had shared drinks and dancing, before he took you back to his large penthouse for a hook-up.

Ever since then, Luke had made it clear that he enjoyed your company. He spoiled you beyond belief, both with material things and with a very active sex life. Being a Wall Street investment banker had given him the attitude that he would take what he wanted, and you were no exception. As much as you were an independent woman in your studies, having Luke in your life took some of the stress away. Going over to his place after a long day of classes, only to receive a mountain of physical affection and usually a gift or two, was just what you needed.

Just as you finished ordering your chai latte, your phone pinged with a new message. You sat down at a cozy table in the corner and pulled out your laptop while you waited for your coffee, looking over the text.

Luke: Come over. You’re done with classes for today, right?

Luke: I’ll order dinner.

You smiled, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen loose from your braid behind your ear. You quickly typed out a message, thumbs flying across the screen. Even as frustrated as you were at the possibility of Luke paying off all of your tuition, you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him.

You: getting coffee, then i will<3

You smiled when Luke typed back three red hearts. He was never one for emojis, mostly because of how professional he was. Every now and then though, you were the lucky one to see that softer, less-professional side of him. As soon as your coffee was placed in your hand, you dashed out the cafe door, walking towards the nearest subway station to catch the train to Luke’s apartment at the southern end of Central Park.

Your heart was absolutely racing as you got closer and closer to the blond. Luke was unlike anyone you had ever met. He had an almost electric pull on you. Luke bore a striking resemblance to a prince, or maybe a king. The way he commanded his office and then carried that dominance home to you was probably the hottest thing you had ever experienced in your twenty years of life.

As soon as the subway pulled up to your stop, you were leaping off the train and up the stairs to the sidewalk. As soon as you got out of the tunnel, you couldn’t help but to crane your neck. No matter how many times you came to Luke’s apartment, you couldn’t help but to be in utter awe when you came upon Billionaire’s Row. The sky-high buildings made of glass and steel were highlighted so beautifully by the rest of the city lights.

You hurried your pace a bit, eager to see Luke inside of one of those penthouse suites. Eventually, you came upon the building that you knew all too well. Walking inside the lobby, the man at the front desk smiled at you, his name tag reading Randy.

“He’s home,” he smiled. “Right over here.”

“Thanks,” You smiled. “I don’t mind taking the regular elevator, y’know.”

“Oh, please. Take this one.” he unlocked the private elevator that would take you directly to Luke’s apartment.

“Thank you,” You smiled as the doors began to close when you stepped in. “I’ll see you later?”

“If you leave tonight.” Randy chuckled.

As soon as you were on your way up, your heart began to flutter faster. You hadn’t seen Luke in a few days because the stock market had been picking up and so had your classes, which made you so beyond eager to be around him once again. The elevator dinged and the doors to Luke’s apartment opened.

You stepped out onto the plushy, white carpet, looking around for the blond. “Luke?”

“Hey baby,” he hummed, coming out of the kitchen and wrapping you in a hug. “Miss me?”

You giggled when he buried his face in your neck, his stubble scratching your neck. “I did.” You said sweetly.

As soon as Luke pulled back, you looked up into his deep blue eyes before speaking again. “Luke, were you the ‘anonymous donor’ that paid my tuition?”

“I was. What? I can’t spoil my girl?” he led you into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down.

“Luke,” You insisted. “I never said that, but that’s hundreds of thousands of dollars. You don’t need to do that.”

“Watch your mouth, princess.” Luke gave you a stern look as he poured you a glass of Merlot.

You blushed, shrinking under his gaze. Even when it wasn’t sexual, Luke had a dominant aire about him. Maybe it was because he worked in such a high power industry, or maybe it was just the way he was, but the blond made you want to submit to him, clinging onto his every word.

“I just want to make sure we’re, y’know, equal. I want to make sure you feel loved, too.”

Luke slid the wine glass across the island to you, where you had taken a seat at the bar. “I don’t need that.”

You snorted. “Contrary to popular belief, you like feeling loved too.” You craned your neck and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Luke rolled his eyes, walking around the island and wrapping his arms around your midsection. “So you wanna know how you can make me feel appreciated?”

“If you wanna call it that, sure.” You shrugged.

“You can be my little toy for the next week. You’re free use for me,” he smirked, growling softly in your ear. “You think that’s equal?”

You nodded quickly, knowing Luke was going to take free advantage of the week, but not caring. “I think so.” You giggled.

“You know I love you, right?” Luke asked. “I don’t want you worrying about your tuition anymore. It’s done, it’s taken care of. You’re going to relax and let me make you feel good, darling.” he hummed, massaging your shoulders.

You blushed under the subtle dominance of Luke’s words, relaxing into his touch. You nudged your head into Luke’s chest and he chuckled softly, knowing exactly what you wanted.

“You’re so cute when you need me, baby girl.” he picked you, holding you under the ass and abandoning your wine glass on the counter so he could carry you to his large master bedroom.

You laid your head on his shoulder, speaking out a soft ‘I love you’. It had been a long day between classes and the stress of the news you’d received and now you just needed Luke to take care of you so you could relax for a little while.

Luke placed you down on his soft, silken sheets when you reached his bedroom, humming softly. “On your knees, honey.”

You did as he asked, kneeling softly and looking up at your dom with soft doe eyes. You were practically reeling with relaxation and happiness over Luke’s validation. You watched him softly while he bustled around the room, taking off his watch and getting things ready for the night.

“Good girl, baby,” Luke praised you. “You’re doing perfect, honey.”

“Thank you.” You said sweetly, knowing Luke enjoyed it when you responded verbally.

“Go wait in the bathroom for me, honey. I’ll be there soon.” Luke told you, looking at you sternly but speaking softly.

You scampered off to Luke’s luxurious bathroom, wondering what he had in mind. Usually, he would dom you in bed. You wasted no time on kneeling on the bath mat beside the jacuzzi tub, still fully clothed. If there was one thing you loved to do, it was be Luke’s sub. Something about letting someone else take the reins and guide you, sexually or not, helped you relieve your stress from attending such a demanding university.

Luke didn’t make you wait long. He came into the bathroom and saw you kneeling, giving you immediate praise. “Look at you, honey. Waiting like a good girl.” he cooed, flashing that million-dollar smile that had been on the cover of Forbes magazine last month.

You blushed, giggling softly. You could feel yourself slipping into subspace, that floaty feeling taking over your head as Luke fussed over you and took care of you. You leaned into his touch as he ran a hand through your hair, before moving to start the bath water.

“Nothing like a nice bath to help you relax, right love?” he smirked. “Arms up.”

You did as the blond asked and Luke pulled off your sweater. He left your glasses on, but reached for the button on your jeans. Luke slowly helped you stand up and then pulled your pants and your panties off, trailing little kisses from your collarbone down to your pubic bone. You could feel the way your body had completely relaxed into your subspace, molding like jelly at whatever Luke told you to do.

The blond fiddled with the settings on the tub, turning on the jets and adding the red lights, which were his absolute favorite. Luke put your favorite, rose-scented bath bomb into the tub before speaking. “Get in the bath, honey.”

You stepped into the large jacuzzi tub, holding Luke’s hand and sinking into the warm, fizzy water. “Thank you.”

Luke smirked, enjoying the way your face was tulip-pink at all the attention being showered on you by him. He wasn’t going to push you today; he had seen the stress lines that had burrowed their way deep onto your face. Besides, you two still needed to have the tuition conversation and he didn’t want you to be totally fucked out for that. Just enough to help you relax.

“I think you need some entertainment while you’re in the bath, hmm? Wouldn’t want you getting distracted…” he smirked, running his ring-clad pointer finger under your chin.

You immediately rested your chin on the ledge of the large tub, watching Luke with expectant eyes. He pulled back for a moment, just enough to make sure you were fully paying attention, but not enough to make you panic. Luke began to undo the buttons of his white shirt, smirking at you as he teased you so fucking slowly, ringed fingers pulsing as he worked.

Letting out a few soft, sensual moans didn’t seem to phase the blond. He simply continued to slowly undress, making sure you were watching the whole time. He wasn’t not not acknowledging you, but he also wasn’t giving you the attention you were oh-so-craving. Finally, Luke came to his gray, Calvin Klein boxers. He slid them off slowly, smirking at you as he did so.

“Mmmm, want you to dom me, Luke. Please. It’s so big.” You whined.

“Ahh ahh, we don’t whine, honey. I think you forgot to ask nicely, hmm?” Luke stood towering over you, completely naked, but in all his godlike authority.

Even in your fuzzy subspace, you could see why all of Luke’s female assistants fawned over him. He looked like something sent straight from Mount Olympus with his blond curls, perfect nose, and regal body type. He had a commanding aura about him, no matter what he was doing, and despite his multiple (yes, multiple) PhDs from different Ivy League universities, it was easy to understand how he did so well in the New York Stock Exchange.

“Sorry sir,” You whispered out. “Can you please dom me?” You asked in a sultry tone.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Luke planted a kiss on your head as he stepped into the tub with you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

You giggled and blushed, still kneeling even in the bath. You kept your eyes trained on Luke, which proved a difficult task from here. Luke’s master bathroom was made up of crystal clear glass windows that allowed for a view of practically the whole city since he lived on the 69th floor. With the sun starting to fade into a hazy dusk and the lights of the skyscrapers popping on one-by-one, it was hard not to get distracted, but you wanted Luke’s pleasure much more than you wanted to enjoy the view.

You and Luke sat face-to-face, and he watched your eyes intently, wondering what joys he would unlock tonight. He began to rub your thigh up and down with his hand under the soapy water, keeping his eyes trained on you.

“Relax, pretty girl,” he whispered. “Just let me take care of you.”

You began to relax under Luke’s touch and gaze, that is, until he began to sneak his fingers closer and closer to your opening. You unconsciously clenched your thighs around Luke’s hand, your nerves sensitive. You began to whimper, wiggling your hips closer to meet his fingers.

“Oh god.” You whined.

Luke smirked, running his fingers along your wet slit and trailing it over your clit. He smirked as he did so, scooting closer to you. “I want you to cum all over my fingers, princess. Get all that stressed properly fucked out.”

You moaned, thrusting your hips against Luke’s pulsating fingers. The blond began to make small, raindrop-like pulses on your electric spot, enjoying the view as you squirmed under him, practically riding his fingers.

“Good girl, honey. Takin’ it like the slutty little school girl that you are.” he coached you.

Your climax was beginning to build up, and you couldn’t help the moans and whimpers that escaped from your mouth as Luke finger-fucked you. As he tapped near your clit, he used three fingers on the other hand to slowly slide them in and out of your pussy.

“That’s it, baby. That feel good? Yeah?” he smiled, knowing you were entirely too close to say anything other than small ‘yes’’s and ‘uh huh’’s.

You were nearly crying as you tried to hold yourself back from clenching and cumming all over Luke’s fingers until he told you to do so. Your sex was absolutely throbbing with the way Luke was touching you, and the warm water from the tub was not making it any easier.

“Luke,” You nearly screamed out. “Making me need to cum.”

The blond gave one last time of really working up your rhythm, before kissing your chest. “Go ahead and cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You quickly released, and your walls began to clench around Luke’s fingers, coating them in your cum. The blond coached you through your climax, offering lots of praise and compliments.

“You are so pretty when you cum, princess,” he cooed when you had finished, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Takin’ my fingers like a good girl.”

You blushed under Luke’s words, leaning your head against his shoulder when he pulled you into his bare chest, hand running up and down your side. Luke had an almost intoxicating way of making your orgasms one of the most exhausting, but best, things you did.

“I think you need one more for good measure. Make sure all that stress is properly fucked out, yeah?” he asked you.

You quickly nodded, never saying no to Luke pleasuring you. The blond ran his fingers through your hair and down your face and upper body, making sure to keep you fully relaxed in subspace. Because you were essentially sitting on his lap, you could feel Luke’s cock hardening under you and you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks.

“Turn around on your knees, honey,” Luke coached, moving you off his lap. “Right over the jet.”

Doing as Luke asked, you had to bite your lip at the sensation of the rushing water tingling your clit. “Oh.” You moaned.

The blue-eyed man chuckled, caressing your upper back. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, princess?” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, gripping the edge of the tub to keep yourself steady. Luke grabbed his white button-down that he had oh-so-conveniently placed on the tub ledge. He quickly used it to wrap your hands around the faucet.

“I want to make sure you enjoy this in the right way.”

You moaned at Luke’s erotic words, angling your hips back so that your ass would meet Luke’s boner. He pulled you back by the hips slowly, offering you lots of praise as your body melted like butter in his hands, allowing him to touch where and however. The blond told you to stay on your knees and lean forward into your bond, angling your back, and you whined as you felt the pressure placed on your already sensitive pussy, even without Luke’s dick.

Luke was practically a sex expert, and he knew your anatomy almost better than you did. That being said, he knew he needed to take you from behind in order to hit your G-spot. Your second orgasm was always faster than the first, and he wanted to make sure that he would get the pleasure of you cumming not only on his fingers, but on his dick as well.

He slowly straddled you from behind, his hips pushing into your ass, before inserting only his tip into you. The pleasure on the blond’s face was evident as he heard you release tiny moans and pants, already nearly overstimulated, just from an inch of him inside you.

“Someone’s eager,” he chuckled. “Did studying all day wear you out? Made you nice and needy for my dick, baby?”

You moaned, nodding your head and straddling against your restraints. “Yes…” You breathed out. “Yes sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Good girl.” Luke slid more of his dick inside of you, painstakingly teasing you.

You pushed your ass further against him, trying to take as much of him into you as possible. Luke was a big fan of doggy style and you had gone through this many times before; Luke didn’t give in to what you wanted right away, but nevertheless, you always tried. You tried desperately to distract yourself by looking out at the scenic cityspace in front of you, but the view was no match for the magic that was Luke.

“You are so fucking hot when you listen to me, Y/N,” Luke growled, tugging on the ends of your hair slightly. “Obeying just the way you’re supposed to like a good sugar baby.”

You moaned, craning your neck back and arching your back as the jets overstimulated your clit and electric spot and Luke’s dick teased your hole. “Uh huh…oh god, Luke.” You whined.

Finally, after what felt like forever to you, Luke slammed all eight inches of himself inside of you, bucking his hips so that you could feel his shaft pulsating. He began to ride you at an almost frenzy rhythm, slamming his hips into yours so that the sound of skin hitting skin and jacuzzi water splashing echoed around the room. The blond knew that if people in other high-rises looked hard enough, they could see him riding you doggy-style within an inch of your life. He didn’t care, though. You wanted to act like a good sub that was practically begging with your eyes for a slutty fuck, that’s what you would get. Besides, billionaires were too scandalous themselves to speak about their colleagues’ sex lives.

“Luke,” You nearly sobbed out, overstimulated by the jets rocking your clit and Luke railing you from behind. “Need to cum.”

Your second orgasm was always faster than your first and you could feel the tight ball building up in your lower stomach, begging to be released. The overstimulation from pressure on your clit and penetration from Luke was having tears running down your cheeks. Luke wasn’t letting up though. He wanted you to be so worn out that you could just relax and let him take care of you.

“You can cum, honey,” he hummed, fucking into you one last time before slapping your ass. “Cum all over my dick.”

You immediately did as told, crying out and straining against your bond as you released your climax. “Uh uh…feels so good.” You panted out, walls clenching around his cock.

Luke rubbed your back as you did so, gently guiding you through it. “That’s it. Good girl. Cumming all over my dick.”

You moaned loudly, thoroughly exhausted. “Thank you.”

“Ah ah,” he tutted. “You’re not done yet, baby girl,” Luke slowly untied the shirt that had bonded you. “Turn around.” he huffed coldly.

You did as he asked, looking up at him through your lashes. He had a smirk on his face, body radiating dominance and power as he lifted your heads above your head and tied them once again to the faucet with the shirt, only this time, you were facing him.

“You really thought you were gonna be done without me getting my pleasure off you?” the blond asked.

You blushed under his gaze, unconsciously bucking your hips to meet his. “Use me. I love you, so use me.” You panted.

“Think you need a nice facial to help you relax, hmm sweetie?”

You nodded quickly, knowing what Luke was getting at. “Please.” You said, eyeing his massively-hard boner.

Luke began to pump himself with his right hand, rings still on. It was probably the hottest thing you’d ever seen, with his head thrown back, blond curls wet and plastered to his forehead, and his muscles bulging as he worked himself. You wiggled in the grasp of his white shirt, moaning loudly. You were beginning to get cold in the water without his body on you and you were making it very clear that you wanted him again.

“Gonna cum, baby.” he huffed out.

“Do it. Cum all over me, sir.” You whined in a sultry voice.

Luke didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately came all over your face, coating your eyes and cheeks in white ropes of cum.

“God, baby. So pretty.” he said, watching you blink the cum out of your eyelashes as he rode out his high.

You blushed. “It’s because of you.”

Luke reached for a washcloth in the fine basket beside the large tub and dipped it into the water, slowly wiping your face off with the warm, wet rag. “I love seeing you when you know you belong to me, princess.” he crooned.

You giggled softly, loving the floaty feeling that was coming from being in your subspace. “Thank you.”

The blue-eyed man continued to wash you off with the cloth, removing the stickiness from your face and body. Luke looked over and realized he had left a crystal champagne flute by the tub the night before.

“Do you need your hair washed, princess?” he asked.

You immediately nodded, absolutely loving it when Luke washed your hair. “Please.”

Luke smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead before using the flute as a sort of cup to wet your hair and using his own shampoo (which was vanilla scented, but no one else needed to know) to wash your hair. You melted under his touch, allowing Luke to take full control, directing you to close your eyes and lean your head back so he could wash your hair.

“All done, honey. Sit in the bath while I dry off.”

His words hardly registered in your brain. The wonderful feeling of being totally fucked out and having someone wash your hair had made you so sleepy. Luke quickly stepped out of the jacuzzi, wrapping a plush, white towel around himself and grabbing his phone from the vanity. The view of you naked, fucked out, in his huge jacuzzi and against the background of crystal-clear glass and the lights of Billionaire’s Row in Manhattan was too pretty for him not to snap a photo of.

The blond quickly dried himself off and dressed in a pair of cozy gray sweats with no shirt. No matter how much money he made off of Wall Street, that outfit would always be his pajamas. Luke pulled the plug in the tub, lifting you out of the tub easily and wrapping you in a pink towel with your initials monogrammed that you left at his apartment for hookups like tonight.

“Kneel, honey, so I can dry you off,” he told you. “Good girl.”

You melted under Luke’s touch as he dried you off and lathered you with sweet-smelling lotion. He slipped your red, silken nightie with lace details over your head before picking you up. Being your sugar daddy, he figured it was only fair to spoil you after you had pleasured him so well and that was exactly what he planned on doing. Luke carried you to bed, tucking you in softly. “What are you feeling for dinner, baby?”

You shrugged, feeling so sleepy and out of it. “You pick.”

“Nope, it’s your night, princess.” he chuckled softly.

“You already did, well, what you did today with the money and all. Let me order it.” You said, reaching for your phone.

“No ma’am,” Luke jerked it back. “You’re going to let me spoil you. You have two choices, baby. Seafood or steak.”

“..steak. Thank you.” You blushed.

Even though you had known Luke since the spring, you were still getting used to the whole “sugar daddy” thing. It was still rather unfamiliar to you to let someone else care for you, especially someone as rich as Luke. The blond easily ordered the food from both his and your favorite Michelin Star restaurant, easily curling up in bed with you after.

“Thank you for today. For everything. Are you sure it’s okay?” You asked quietly.

“Princess, I told you. The only thing you owe me is free use of that slutty little body for the next week.” he told you, burying his face into your neck as he spooned you.

You blushed and giggled softly, pushing yourself further into him. “That sounds good to me. But seriously, thank you. Helping me with my education means more to me than you know.”

“I know. That’s why I did it. Besides, smart girls are hot girls.” he smirked.

You happily cuddled into Luke’s side, sighing happily. And if Luke spent the rest of the night being beyond soft and caring for you, no one else had to know.

568 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

Also would love more of the art student x stem student peter writing,, again totally just self indulgent here but I adore their dynamic I could go on forever, like study dates but she’s working and Peter hangs around revising notes in her studio and they both just accompany each other AGHHH I could think about them for ages

-🍁🤭

Thanks lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 727 words

Your hand comes into view, taking Peter’s attention from his notes for the first time in hours as you slide a paper plate stacked with pizza slices towards him.

“They were out of stir fry,” you say, “but they let me take extra pizza since they felt bad.”

Peter blinks, realizing his eyes are dry and achy. “When did you get this?”

“Just now,” you say, though it sounds like a question. Your brows twitch towards each other, somewhere between bemused and concerned. “Pete, I’ve been gone for like a half hour. You didn’t notice?”

Peter blinks again, hard. He gives his head a little shake. “No, I, uh…I guess I was too distracted. Thanks for the pizza.”

“Course.” You kiss the top of his head as you round the table, sitting down across from him with a couple slices of your own. Peter watches as you zone back into your work, a pensive frown coming to your face. You’re in the beginning stages of a new project, and the last few hours have been a frustrating cycle of erasing, sketching, and erasing again. Peter doesn’t get how you can even see through all the faded, half-removed lines on your page.

“How’s it going?” he asks, tentative.

Your frown worsens. “Not bad,” you say, in a tone that says not great, either. “I’ve landed on an idea, but it just…it doesn’t feel perfect. I don’t want to start and then have to change my mind again.”

“Didn’t you say that’s how it usually goes?” he prompts.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and you sound so upset about it that Peter has to—just has to—reach across the table and take your hand. You offer him a small smile and return the squeeze he gives your fingers.

“Want a break?” he asks you, and you raise your eyebrows.

“I just took my break,” you remind him.

It’s difficult to love someone and see them treat themselves how you treat yourself. Peter would count a run to the dining hall as a break, too, but he doesn’t like it when you do it. Still, that doesn’t give him a lot of ground for argument.

“Then can I see?” he tries, hoping talking it through will make you feel better.

You chew your lip for a second before nodding, going to slide your paper towards him.

“Nope, hold on.” Peter stands up on his seat, stepping one gangly leg and then the other over the table before lowering himself into the chair beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, hugging you so that your face is squished against his bicep. “Better,” he says. “Go on.”

You laugh at his over-the-top affection, but don’t move away, going into the details of your original idea versus what you’ve come up with on paper. The abstract always falls short of the concrete, Peter knows that, and yet he feels your disappointment in your inability to fulfill the full scope of your vision acutely. You grow more animated as you talk, eventually bringing the paper closer and sketching while he watches. Peter suggests his own solutions as you work. They’re useless of course, but he knows that having a sounding board helps you think, so he’ll keep the conversation going any way he can. To your credit, you don’t tell him all the ways he’s wrong. You only hmm and huh and then do your idea anyway.

After a while, you come up with something you’re happier with. It’s still not perfect, but Peter reminds you again of your own tenets; that it never will be, and your only job is to do the best you can with what you have. You’re smiling by now, so it’s a win in his book.

“You gonna talk me through your biochem notes now?” you ask him cheerily.

“Aw, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of your head. “You’re a gem for offering, but we both know you’ll get a headache.”

“I’ll eat my pizza while you talk,” you propose, picking up a now cold slice of your dinner. “C’mon, it’s only fair.”

Peter grins at you, your face lined with tiredness and hand stained with silver pencil lead but eyes alight with that fizzy energy you get from creation. “Okay,” he concedes. “But when we go home, we’re watching the most mindless show we can find on TV.”

181 notes · View notes

patheticallyinfatuatedwithu · 8 months

Text

all you had to do was stay, pham hanni

things never have a way with working out for you. but when pham hanni comes into your life, just this one time, you hope that life will side with you.

"i don't care about you. no one does. no one ever did."

"i'm sorry. i’m so sorry.”

"hi, are you y/n?"

red rimmed eyes met hanni's sparkling honey eyes, drooping and sunken. it was clear that the girl in front of her hadn't gotten any good sleep, hair mussed and sagging eye bags underneath her eyes. it was a complete 180 of how hanni looked, tidy and clean. though she looked like this, there was a speck of hope behind gloomy, hazy eyes.

“yeah.” she cleared her throat, wiping her clammy palms dry on her jeans, lips pressed into a thin line. she reached for her glasses that sat close at the edge of the table, clearing her throat for the second time. “you must be hanni?”

hanni nods, eyeing the seat in front of the taller woman who flicks her gaze almost immediately. “yes, please sit.”

as hanni gets situated in her spot, y/n took the brief moment of silence to admire the shorter woman in front of her, sporting an oversized green sweater and baggy jeans.

her raven hair was weaved together to form braids, falling perfectly in place at the junction of her neck and shoulders. a few strands of her bangs were out of place, and y/n’s fingers itched to fix it.

for the third time, y/n clears her throat. hanni has now finished organizing her things on the table. “so you’ve come for biochem, is that right?"

hanni nods, eyes following the fingers that clicked on the keyboard a bit too fast. “any particular topics you’d like to start today?”

hanni’s eyes lit up, this girl in front of her would possibly be the best tutor she’s ever had. not one of her old tutors had bothered to ask her what she wanted to study first. “i have a quiz for krebs cycle coming up in two weeks.”

her tutor’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrowed, “what preparations have you done beforehand?”

hanni grimaces as her eyes run over her paper, in those weeks dabbing into krebs cycle, she’s only managed to put together a page and a half of notes. she looked up at her tutor, whose eyes followed hers and dived into her poorly written notes.

she buries an arm in her bag, pulling a spiral notebook out. “here.” eyes scanning the book, hanni raises an eyebrow. “notes that i’ve composed when i was in your shoes.”

“oh.” the tips of hanni’s ears grew bright red in embarrassment, as if someone had flicked them. “thank you.” she says in a hushed whisper.

“you’re welcome. so, shall we start?

it was around hanni’s fifth tutoring session in the library that she’d acknowledged her growing infatuation on the taller woman, almost combusting when their hands grazed against one another, knees buckling underneath her.

unbeknownst to her, this exact same feeling came to haunt y/n every night in her sleep, tossing and turning in frustration at the thought. she couldn’t bear to have another potential crush, not after the last one, and especially not on the person she had just met five days ago whom she has to help pass her class.

but with the way hanni smiles and the way her eyes twinkle, oh god. she’s knee deep in her feelings.

“wait, y/n?”

“yes?”

“this isn’t really krebs cycle related but, any chance you’d be up for hanging out outside of the library?” hanni nibbled nervously on her bottom lip, eyes downcast and bracing herself for rejection. she wasn’t quite sure where her sudden confidence and boldness came from, mentally cursing herself for being way too forward with it.

huh?

y/n’s eyes widened, eyebrows raising. is she pulling my leg? “are you kidding?” no ever one wanted to hang out with her.

hanni’s own eyes widened, quick to tumble words out of her lips. “i-it’s totally fine if you don’t want to hang out with me, i totally get it-”

a jewelry clad hand covering hanni’s own had her clamping her mouth shut, eyes almost bulging out. “that’s not what i meant. of course i’d like to hang out with you, it’s just that… are you sure you’d like to spend your time with me?”

hanni frowned, tearing her eyes away from y/n’s hand that completely swallowed her own, an eye opening gesture showcasing the difference in size. “why not?”

y/n sighs, “haven’t you heard of the things they’ve said about me?”

hanni’s frown deepened, eyes scattering all over y/n’s face. who could say such things? but she has. she certainly has. how her tutor’s apparently the root of the most popular senior’s anger and heartbreak, how she’s nothing but brains and most of all, just a hollow piece of flesh. that she doesn’t have a soul nor conscience.

y/n had never experienced silence so thick you could cut it with glass, her closest to this was when her ex had dumped her, deafening silence crunching underneath her boots.

the tension was starting to become unbearable, wrapping it’s tendrils around y/n’s neck and gripping tightly at a slow pace. she was suffocating. she needed glass.

“i understand if-”

“-i don’t care.” y/n blinks once, twice, thrice. did she hear hanni correctly? she didn’t care? “i don’t care about what they say about you. to put it simply, i don’t give a fuck. yes, we’ve only spent a few moments of our lives together but it was more than enough for me to make the decision that you are the most genuine person i’ve ever met."

y/n’s words died down in her throat, mouth gaping open and close like a fish. she couldn’t utter a single thing and she was sure hanni had no intention of letting her.

“you may think that i’m pulling your leg but please trust me when i say that you are the most caring human i’ve ever met.” you think i didn’t notice your small gestures of kindness?

how you moved my bag to the side so i wouldn’t trip on it and humiliate myself? how you already had my favorite drink waiting on our study table so i don’t have to waste more money? the way you were willing to stay longer than our promised time because i’m so unorganized?

“i noticed.” hanni whispers, gingerly interlacing her hand with y/n’s.

y/n turned her head away from hanni, biting down on her bottom lip as her eyes prickled with tears, fighting to keep her tears at bay.

“the truth is, i never loved you. i was only pretending. you were just an experiment.”

y/n hopes hanni would stay.

“am i too late?”

“were you too late?”

hanni’s response was terse, a thousand knives slashing deep into the last piece of y/n she’d left over for hanni. the one keeping her grounded. it was instant, death by a thousand cuts. death by four words.

hanni’s back faced y/n, the taller woman unable to see the river of tears rushing down her rosy cheeks. hanni couldn’t trust her voice enough to not break, resorting to hushed whispers. “why were you too late?”

it was clear. it was clear to everyone that hanni had wanted it to work, to work more than anything. to remember the warmth that y/n emitted when she tugged her into a hug because she passed her exam, the hardest exam she’d ever taken that hanni ended up having no sleep for a whole week.

but compare this moment to that exam, it stood no chance with its shaking legs.

“you deserve someone better than me.” y/n had managed to utter, fiddling with the soaked bouquet in her hands. “i’m so sorry.”

a streak of car lights passed them, illuminating the droplets of rain that bounced off y/n’s hair and into her clothes, contrasting that of hanni’s dry clothes. “you’re losing me. don’t let yourself lose me.”

“it’d be better for you, with me gone. this whole time i thought i was helping you but, in reality, i was just holding you back.” through gritted teeth, y/n combats the urge to pull hanni in a hug.

“don’t. don’t say that. don’t let it happen."

but y/n had already made her decision, shifting her weight from one foot to another, gripping the bouquet tighter. “i’m so sorry, i’m such a coward.”

hanni turns in her place, umbrella flicking the rain hurriedly like the tears in y/n’s eyes. “you’re choosing to let me go?”

hanni’s voice cracks in the slightest, taking in the sight of y/n with a sharp inhale. y/n was soaked from head to toe, her cheeks and the tips of her nose reddened, hair gushing a ton of water and her hand trembling like a leaf. y/n stayed silent.

everything was decided at that moment.

“you don’t mean that.” hanni lets out a choked sob slip from her quivering lips, letting go of the umbrella’s handle to grasp at y/n’s cold hands. “you don’t mean that.”

a step towards the edge.

“y/n, do not let me go.”

y/n struggles to pry hanni’s firm grip off her hands, the bouquet combating demons to stay attached together. “you’re better off without me, hanni. we both know that.”

“no, we don’t!” hanni snapped, it wasn’t her to snap. but when it happens, the world crumbles and crashes into whoever it was decided upon. “we can find our way, y/n. we can find the clearing and there, together, we will find our way out.”

but y/n couldn’t see it, all it took was a glance at hanni’s hurt stricken eyes to know that she couldn’t see it too. that the clearing was blurry, that the way out was non-existent.

that happy ending was not in their vocabulary.

“no more lying. please, hanni. we’re lost.”

in any other day, hanni would beg to differ and be stubborn, but by the looks of the situation, standing soaked in the rain on the sidewalk with the person she loved the most, her willpower vanished.

“we would’ve made it.”

“we would’ve.”

y/n was the one that didn’t stay.

broken records i don't know shit about biochem LMAOOO hope this makes up for my absence🫶

#kpop #kpop gg #kpop gg x reader #wlw #newjeans #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #new jeans #newjeans hanni #hanni pham #pham hanni #pham hanni x reader #hanni x reader #kpop oneshots #kpop x reader

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reidslovely · 1 year

Note

Peter’s eyes are absolutely beautiful 😩😩 Have any frat boy peter headcannons? Maybe him trying to get the reader but she doesn’t like greek life (and him being a cocky asshole)

He has gorgeous puppy dog eyes I can't describe them any other way.

Frat boy peter is...mhm if you could see my face. he and I have a interesting relationship because greek life and I are not besties. But we can say Pete is the actual exception. I mean look at him

You met Peter in your elective sociology course because out of some type of spite your professor told you to look to your right and you'd see your partner for the whole semester. Any discussion board completed had to have both of your names on it, any project you had both would turn in together. Meaning it felt like you spent every waking moment with this geeky asshole. The first thing he did after your first class together was ask you out.

The absolute audacity of this man because what the fuck? You had traded maybe a total of five sentences to one another the whole class. He was cute, you had to give him that..till he opened his mouth.

"Do you want to like go out with me sometime?" "Like to work on our discussion posts? Or the project one like what do you mean Parker?" "No, no." He laughed throwing his head back holding the door to the lecture hall open for you. "Like I take you to a movie, or a bar or something and we get to know each other. A date, you ever been on one?"

How dare he assume you'd never been on a date? You'd been on several dates since getting to ESU, did you look like someone who never went on dates? For that sole reason you turned down his offer, and you didn't feel like listening to him talk about his dumb frat and whatever stupid four year degree he was completing. (He was probably a business major or something.)

However he was a very good sport about it, shockingly, most frat boys would throw a tantrum like a three year old in the you section of a Walmart but Pete was chill. He nodded and said he understood and when, not if, when you changed your mind the offer would stand. What a cocky asshole.

A few weeks later in the semester is when you finally get to know Peter Parker and not Peter the frat boy. He showed up to the library (30 minutes late) soaking wet and shivering. "Where's your jacket?"

"Harry took it, they're doing rush stuff in the rain he needed it more than me." He says shaking his hair out of the ball cap he was wearing, and what was hidden under the hair shocked you.

Peter's dark brown hair that was there in class Monday morning was now a (unevenly) bleached blonde. "What the fuck did you do to your hair." "I didn't do fucking shit to it." He said a laugh in his chest. "Fell asleep in the den woke up being told to rinse my hair out. The older guys got to me for prank week or whatever." "That's fucked up." "Mhm I put itching powder in their after shave and shampoo after don't worry about me pretty girl. I get even." He smirks. "This is why I hate greek life." "Mhm pays for college what can I say. I wouldn't be here without it." You hadn't considered that as the reason Peter joined greek life. You knew they got benefits but, Peter just fit the stereotype to well. "Really?" You asked. "I'm a poor kid from Queens babe, I missed my SATS and ACTs more than three times. It's a wonder they even accepted me into the biophysics department. Then I wanted to double major with biochem and I basically had to get on my knees and beg the frat to let me in and pay for my degree." He laughed looking at you, playfully tapping your arm. "Didn't hurt that my uncle was an alumni, so I'm a legacy." You stared at him like he had three heads, he seemed so real in that moment. Suddenly he wasn't the asshole you met on your first day assuming you'd want to date him, or he wasn't the jackass you saw playing basketball in the front yard of greek row with girls drooling on him. He seemed like everyone else you knew.

You also stared at him because his hair was distracting. Slamming the book shut you put it into your bag, and stood up. "Come on, blondie." His head snapped up at you, eyes squinting a smirk on his face. "Is this you picking up that date offer." "No this is me fixing your hair because this is an eye sore and I feel truly bad for you." You laughed putting his hat on his head pulling it over his eyes. You stood in the middle of your dorm room that night, clipping a pink princess peach towel around Peter's neck as your re-bleached his hair, and he typed up the last few parts of your first project. Having him explain his bad chemistry jokes to you, which he sneakily replied:

"The one spark I know is positive is between us" You rolled your eyes calling him a cheeseball. It seemed that moment on wherever you were Peter went or vice versa. You found yourself in the bio lab with him a lot, working on discussion posts or doing notes while he worked. You two enjoyed each others company, with no labels. You had taken him up on the offer and didn't even notice until you were walking out of the bar a couple blocks from campus, having gotten drinks with him and his frat friends. Who knew you by name before you even walked in. Peter held your hand as he walked you back towards your dorm, a cigarette in his mouth. "You tell your friends about me Parker?" "Yeah I do. I'm slowly indoctrinating you into the greek life." You rolled your eyes in response, nudging him playfully. He laughed blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, putting his cigarette out on the brick wall. "But no, I told some of them about you the day we first met." "Really?" "Mhm I thought you were fascinating, I couldn't get a word out to you, you were so smart and pretty. Only thing I knew to do was to ask you out and you said no and I had to tell them the moment I thought I feel in love." He jokes. You stopped in your tracked staring up at him. "You are such a..just kiss me." Peter laughed grabbing your face, pulling you into a soft kiss. Hands stroking your cheeks, as you soaked in every second of the moment you can. "Still hate frat boys?" Peter teases. "Little bit..but you're the exception."

#tasm peter parker #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter one shot #tasm peter smut #tasm spiderman #tasm fic #the amazing spider man #tasm!peter x y/n

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

how about tasm!peter helping reader overcome anxiety, but she has a hard time expressing herself to others, even about anxiety. but peter wants to help comfort her no matter what 🤍 don't need to write this if you don't want lol

AN | Okay, this got away from me, but I think it’s so cute! There’s also a first kiss🥰❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.9k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter Parker was pretty. Really fucking pretty.

That was one of the first things you’d noticed about him freshman year in your early morning biochem class. You learned, later on, that he was also incredibly kind, charming, and ridiculously smart. Like genius level smart. You knew he liked photography, which happened to be a hobby of your own. You wanted to be his friend; you’d thought many times about going up and speaking to him, but always talked yourself out of it.

Why would Peter Parker want to be your friend?

Instead you admired from afar, from a safe distance. But once you both graduated from ESU and went on to getting advanced degrees, you were sure that you’d never see him again. After all, New York was a huge city, and the odds that your lives would be intertwined enough to run into each other on a regular basis seemed slim to none.

So - imagine your surprise when you started working as a research scientist at Biotech a few years and another degree later and you found that Peter Parker was starting at the same time as you. You’d done so well to keep your distance, to keep your feelings in check by being a silent admirer. But now, not only would you be seeing him every day…you’d be working closely with him in a lab all by yourself.

You had no clue how you were going to survive, and part of you was tempted to quit and look for a different job, but you’d worked so long and so hard for this position that you weren’t going to just give it up. You were just going to have to suck it up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And it worked, surprisingly. Peter was nothing if not polite and kind, and honestly he was a dream to work with. The two of you had a certain synchronicity that just was hard to put into words, but you complimented perfectly. Despite your initial fear, working in a lab with Peter went well. The worst part was that it made it all the more easy to fall for him. But you doubted he would ever see you as anything other than the girl at work.

“Hey,” Peter softly interrupted your silent prayer to release any feelings for him with a soft smile. It was getting later into the evening and you were both getting ready to leave for the weekend. You flashed him a smile in response but slipped on your coat, “I was wondering…umm, do you want to grab a bite to eat?”

No way. No freaking way was Peter Parker asking you to get dinner. Right? Right?

“I-I’m sorry,” you blinked a few times and looked at him with wide eyes. His cheeks flushed a pretty pastel shade of pink as he nervously ran a hand through his hair, “what did you say?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner,” he repeated softly, shrugging one of his shoulders lightly, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course. I just thought it might be nice to spend some time outside of work together.”

“You want to spend time with me?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You needed to make an appointment to get your ears checked. Peter would never want to be with you outside of work. Or, if anything, he might have been so lonely that he welcomed anyone’s company, “me?”

“Yes you,” he laughed softly and it was a sound you’d memorized over the years but still made your knees weak. He took a step closer and bit his lip for a moment, “let me clarify so we’re both on the same page - I, Peter Parker, am asking you, you, if you’d like to go out and dinner.”

“Oh,” every dream you’d ever had of Peter seemed to be coming true then and there. Peter liked you, Peter wanted to spend time with you; maybe you’d never been invisible to him after all. But no. You couldn’t…you just couldn’t. You were sure if anything he’d spend about ten minutes with you alone and he’d grow bored of you and make some excuse to leave. The idea that Peter would end up being bored of you was enough to make you never want to speak again, “umm…Peter, t-that’s really nice of you to ask. But I just…can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” it was laced with disappointment and you could see his face falling. You were pretty sure you’d just made things so much worse than if you’d just agreed on going, “no worries! I just thought I’d ask, it’s no big deal - maybe next time…well, enjoy your weekend.”

“You too, Peter,” you watched as he grabbed his bag and left, pausing at the door to turn around and give you a small wave. You returned and remained rooted in place, regret clouding your mind. If you hadn’t had such bad anxiety, you would have said yes. But the fear of messing everything up had been worse. You sighed at yourself, “pathetic.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There was something quite lovely about New York in the middle of the night. The city never quite deadened, but there was a lull to life that made everything feel so much calmer than normal. That, combined with the insomnia you struggled with from time to time, was enough of a reason for you to venture outside. You grabbed your camera and slowly climbed out of your window and onto the fire escape, slowly making your way the several floors up to the rooftop. When you got there, you set out a long exhale of relief as you looked around the space and found the big blanket you stashed up here for times like this.

It was chilly out, but it was exhilarating and made you feel more alive than you had all day. You walked around the rooftop and looked out into the city, trying to find anything worthy of your attention. After scouring for a few minutes, you found a gathering on one of the nearby streets and decided to capture it. You framed the shot, but before you could even press the shutter, you heard something loud fall next to you, accompanied by a small oof.

You dropped the camera which was luckily around a strap on your neck and turned towards the commotion. To your surprise and shock you found Spider-Man looking right back at you. You gasped, hands covered your face as you looked at the man in the blue and red spandex suit, “Spider-Man?”

“Hi,” he cheerily waved before putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head to the side, “what’re you doing up here? It’s freezing - and it’s late.”

“What are you doing on my roof?” you asked with just as much surprise. You’d seen him on the news, read about him on the internet, but you’d never seen him in the flesh before, “you’re shorter than I expected.”

He playfully groaned and you were sure that he’d rolled his eyes under that mask, “first of all, I’m patrolling, and I happened to be swinging by. Secondly - I’m above average height, thank you very much!”

“Well, I don’t know, I expected you to be like…6’5 or something,” you shrugged, stifling a laugh at his distress, “aren’t you a superhero and all?”

“I am still a person-”

“With spider-like abilities,” you found yourself grinning in spite of the initial nerves, “so I dunno, I figured you might be tall. The news does you justice I guess.”

“Yeah well…fine,” he huffed lightly as you laughed at him. You could have sworn that he sounded so familiar and you couldn’t quite place it. Part of you was sure that he sounded like Peter, but there was no way that your crush of eight plus years and lab partner was Spider-Man, “but seriously, what are you doing up here?”

“I…I couldn’t sleep,” you found it incredibly easy to talk to him, nerves and anxiety the last thing on your mind. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see his face, or the fact that you had no clue who he was, “I go outside when I can’t sleep…it helps sometimes.”

“It’s dangerous,” he reminded you and you shrugged lightly, “you shouldn’t be out alone at night in this city.”

“Well I don’t exactly have someone that’s just available to come out with me at three in morning when I’m dealing with insomnia,” if you didn’t know any better you were sure that he sounded concerned, “it’s not the first time I’ve done this. I’ll be okay.”

“You have someone now,” he insisted and your mouth opened in surprise. When he saw the visible confusion on your face he pointed at himself, “that way I know you’ll be safe.”

“There’s only one problem with that.”

“Which is…?”

“How am I supposed to just call you if I need you?” you asked softly and he chuckled warmly as if there was some sort of inside joke between the two of you, “I don’t think there’s some sort of Spidey Signal or something.”

“I’ll be here,” he promised, “I’ll know.”

“Sure,” you liked the sound of it but you highly doubted he would just show up when you needed him. He had a whole city that he kept safe, and you were just one unimportant, small person among millions, “thanks for the concern.”

“I care about you, you know,” he said it like it was something of some personal thing to him. He must have caught his mistake because he quickly cleared his throat and added, “I care about everyone in New York.”

“Of course you do, you’re Spider-Man,” you gave him a small smile and decided that perhaps it was time for you to go. You were about to turn around and head for the fire escape when he stopped you.

“You have a camera,” you looked down before looking back at him and nodding softly, “you’re a photographer?”

“Amateur,” you confessed with a shy smile, “scientist by day, amateur photographer by night. It’s just a hobby, but it’s stuck with me through the years.”

“Wow,” you could tell that he sounded genuinely impressed. Peter, of course, knew you were a scientist, but he had no idea that you’d shared the same hobby too. It made his heart melt a little more, “that’s really cool.”

“Not as cool as being Spider-Man,” you insisted softly as he made a small sound, “I guess I better get going. And let you get back to work…or whatever you call it.”

“I’d love to see some of your work sometime,” the small that worked its way onto your face was breathtaking and made his knees weak, “if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” you nodded with your face warm despite the chill of the late fall air, “definitely. Well…I guess I’ll see you around Spidey.”

“See you around, smart girl,” if he’d had the mask off, you’d have seen the giant, dopey grin on Peter’s face. But he was gone, swinging back into the evening as you stood there and stared after him.

You were pretty sure you had just befriended Spider-Man. Holy fuck.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You really hadn’t expected to see him ever again. But on your next little, a late night walk through the streets of Queens, he made another appearance. He swung over and gracefully landed next to you, easily catching up to your stride. You couldn’t deny that you were elated to have him there. There was something easy about talking to him, about giving bits and pieces of yourself to him, and taking what he gave back. He was always careful not to give too much away, not to reveal too much of his real identity, but you felt like you were getting to know him. And you really liked him. You spend weeks upon weeks of your evenings with Spider-Man, growing closer than you’d have thought possible to the masked man.

On the other hand, it felt like your relationship with Peter was slowly slipping away. After that first night when you’d turned him down, you created a bit of a divide between the two of you. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to be his friend or even more, it was just that you didn’t trust yourself around him. He made was Peter fucking Parker and you were just…nobody. He never made you feel that way, but that’s just what you had ingrained in your mind. And, to your dismay, Peter slowly pulled back as well, which you took as rejection, when in reality it was him not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Either way, you wished you could go back in time and just say yes to him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Spider-Man seemed to notice your glum mood the next time he saw you. You hadn’t even gone out to the roof or for a walk, but he’d made an appearance at your bedroom window, gently tapping on the glass once he’d spied you sitting at your desk, typing away. When you heard the noise, you turned around and your face morphed into a look of surprise and then happiness. You rushed over to open the window and let him.

“How did you know which window was mine?” you asked softly as he took your outstretched hand and stepped into the room. He set his hands on his hips and looked around your room, taking it all in; your face flushed with warmth as he realized he was getting a glimpse into your most intimate space.

“I’m Spider-Man,” he said as though that explained everything, “I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me?” your face softened and he nodded.

“Can I sit?” he pointed at your bed and you nodded eagerly before plopping back down into your cushy desk chair, “I like your room. ‘s cute.”

“I…I never thought Spider-Man would be in my bedroom, I might have decorated a little more,” you joked and he laughed lightly, but he could see that your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. He paused for a moment and you could feel that he was studying you, trying to pull you apart, “what?”

“You seem upset,” he whispered, leaning towards and holding out his hand. He hesitated for a moment, trying to make sure that he didn’t cross any of your boundaries, but when he noticed that you almost leaned, put his hand on the side of your face and gently stroked your cheek, “what’s wrong, my smart girl?”

My smart girl. He had a tendency to call you; you secretly loved it more than you cared to admit.

“It’s nothing.” you insisted, biting the inside of your cheek in order to keep the tears from welling up. You put your hand on his forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. When he made a small sound of concern in his throat, you couldn’t back the tears. A few pearled up and rolled down your cheeks, “it’s my own fault, it’s so stupid. Really, i-it’s fine.”

“It’s making you upset,” you could practically hear the frown in his voice as he used his thumb to wipe away your tears, “it’s not stupid if it’s making you upset. You don’t have to tell me…but I am here for you if you want to tell me. You can tell me anything.”

“It’s just…my friend,” you sighed lightly and pulled back, curling into yourself, “I think he’s my friend, anyway. I feel like I kept pushing him away and now I don’t think he wants to be my friend anymore. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me. We work together, and he almost never talks to me anymore unless it is about work.”

Peter’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized you were talking about him. He felt himself getting choked up as well, “what makes you think that?”

“I feel so dumb,” you shook your head, “it’s just that…I think I like him. I mean I do like him, a-as more than a friend. I’ve had a crush on Peter for a long time. Like eight years, but I’ve always thought I was invisible to him. But he just…he knows all these things about me, and it’s like…it feels like he’s always seen me, you know?”

“Why did you push him away?” Peter’s heart was beating so fast and hard he was surprised you couldn’t hear it, and even more surprised it didn’t just burst through his chest, “what happened?”

“He asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him,” you confessed as if he didn’t know all of this, “and I thought it was just as friends at first but I think he might have meant more…he seemed so upset when I said no. It made me sad to see him like that. I didn’t mean to hurt him or upset him, I just…I got so in my head and let my anxiety get the best of me. So I just said no.”

“Did you want to say no?” he asked softly as you looked up and met his gaze through the white eyes of the mask. It just felt like he knew you, and that you knew him. There had always been that very familiar air about him, but you’d never been able to quite place why.

“No,” you admitted with a small, bitter little laugh, “I wanted to say yes. I want to spend more time with him and…I really do like him. But I’m afraid he’s going to get to know me more and think I’m boring or lame, or he just won’t like me. I have really bad anxiety and it really gets to me.”

“I’d never be able to guess,” he confessed and you gave him a small smile.

“It’s different with you,” you admitted shyly, “I feel comfortable around you, andI always have. I don't know why, but it’s true. That’s how I feel with Peter too, except that one time I clammed up so much and ruined everything.”

“I’m sure you didn’t ruin anything,” he insisted softly, and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, “what’s so funny?”

“I don’t have as much confidence,” you shrugged, “how are you so sure? You don’t know Peter, you didn’t see the look on face when I said no. I…I never want to see that look on his face again. It made me so sad.”

Peter was internally debating on what to do. He could either tell you that it was him and risk the chance that you’d hate him forever for not telling you for so long and getting all of this out of you. Or he could continue on as Spider-Man and never tell you that it was. Or he could tell you tomorrow at work…as Peter. There were risks and benefits from each scenario. All he knew was that he couldn’t lose you; that would be too much.

“You know, Spidey, you remind me of Peter in some ways,” you whispered shyly and his heart plummeted into his stomach, “you sound like him. And you like a lot of the same things and I dunno…I feel the same way around you as I do around him. That’s never really happened with anyone before.”

“Listen-”

“It’s almost like….” you stopped yourself, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you shook your head, “it’s silly. So stupid, really.”

“Tell me,” he asked softly, “please.”

You inhaled softly, your heart pitter-pattering wildly in your chest. It was your turn to hold up your hand and reach over, ghosting your fingertips along his jaw. He leaned into your touch ever so slightly and you could feel the warmth of his skin even under the mask. You closed your eyes for a moment before exhaling shakily, “Peter?”

He paused for a moment before taking your hand and guiding it to the back of your neck where you felt the zip of the mask. You undid it softly, slowly, and when he sensed your hesitation, he helped you and slowly pulled off the mask, revealing himself to you.

You gasped lightly when you found Peter Parker’s glittering honeyed eyes looking back at you nervously. You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up, and he visibly relaxed when you didn’t get angry. He held up his hand nervously, “hi.”

“This whole time,” you felt your face warm up when you realized that you had basically confessed your feelings to him, “I knew you seemed familiar, Spidey. I should've known that it was you. I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. When it happened with Spider-Man, I didn’t think anything of it. But it was you this whole time.”

“I didn’t know if I should tell you,” he whispered, “but I wanted you to know. And I never meant to make you feel like I was pushing you away. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable….when I had asked you out and you said no, I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same way, so I thought it’d be best to back off.”

“It wasn’t you,” you promised, “it never was. It was me. Peter, I meant what I said, I’ve had a crush on you since that first day in biochem. I wanted to be your friend for so long, but just could never bring myself to say anything. I thought maybe I could use the photography thing since that’s something we both like but it just never seemed like a good time. And when we started working together…it was nerve-wracking and wonderful. And when you asked me for dinner, I panicked and thought I would surely ruin everything, so I took the possibility of failure away by saying no and making it impossible.”

“Ever the logical scientist,” he smiled softly, “my smart girl. But so you know, you could never have ruined anything. Do you want to know a secret?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve liked you too,” he admitted and your heart felt like it was going to burst, “since that first day in biochem. But you’ve always been way out of my league, so I never said anything.”

“No way!”

“Way,” the look on your face was both pretty and priceless and he was dying to finally kiss you, “now you know all my secrets.”

“Do you want to know one of mine, Peter Parker?”

“Yes.”

“I thought about what it would be like to kiss you so many times,” you whispered so softly that he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to hear you without his heightened senses, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Peter’s eyes lit up and you both leaned in, his lips inches away from yours. After a moment of hesitation, he finally kissed you, soft and sweet. He pulled back much sooner than you would have wished, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure it was alright. Your beaming face told him it was more than alright.

“Was that okay?” he sounded so nervous it was almost too precious.

“I think so,” you teased lightly, “but I am a scientist and need more data to form a proper conclusion.”

“As a fellow scientist, I’m more than happy to provide all the data you could need,” he was grinning from ear to ear, “if you want that is…”

“Yes, Peter Parker,” you kissed him softly, “I would love that.”

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter imagine #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader

698 notes · View notes

fairytsuk1 · 2 years

Text

wrist, thigh, and neck | (s)

my participation for @toji-bunny-girl kinktober!

happy halloween!

pairing: vampire!todoroki shoto x reader

words: 6.2k

summary: it's halloween, and someone's costume is more than cheap fabric bought at spirit halloween. they embody the character completely that you can't tell between fiction or reality. what exactly is shoto todoroki?

warnings: BLOOD KINK, virgin!female reader, sub!reader, frat party, alcohol usage, mentions of death, biting, cunnilingus, protected sex, mild dumbification, slight dub/con at the end but unrelated to sex, explicit language

“You’re telling me that you don’t even think about it? I mean, how?!”

You’re sitting like a child, knees pulled up to your chest, as Mina looks at you incredulously.

“I mean, of course I do! I just don’t know who I’d even do it with, you know?” your teeth worry your lip, tugging the flesh and biting at the skin.

Mina sighs and grabs your Squishmallow; she’s at a loss for words and desperately wants you to get out of your shell, “well, you can’t be a virgin forever! Okay, wait, what if you told me who you wouldn’t mind doing it with! You know, like if they asked, it’d automatically be a yes!”

He pops into your head because, of course, he does. Shoto Todoroki. You were a college student, for god’s sake. I mean, you were taking biochem! Stuff like that didn’t matter, and you’d hardly ever even spoken to Todoroki enough to imply a romantic attraction.

But everything about him was alluring. It pisses you off that he makes your heart stutter in your chest and press your thighs together all ’cause of those piercing eyes.

He was hot, and maybe you had a crush on him.

“Wait! Don’t tell me, I know! It’s Todoroki, isn’t it?”

“Wha—no! No, why would you think that? I mean, we barely even talk,” the words come out jumbled and frantic; your secret was out to who knows how many people? It wasn’t like that, you swore to Mina, but she’d already crossed her arms and grinned devilishly, “Mina, you can’t tell anyone!”

“I’m not! Of course not, but I knew you felt something for him. I bet he made you think of love, of those strong muscles under his shirt, of his cock—“

“You are seriously so gross!!”

It felt so taboo, you’d touched yourself, of course, but you’d never even seen a guy’s dick in person unless you counted the shared baths you and Midoriya took as children.

And Todoroki’s dick… you’d heard stories. He didn’t get around too much, but the girls who were lucky to receive it claimed he was as good as Zeus. You’d never know. There was no way Todoroki might be into you, and false hope always led to disappointment.

“Nothing will probably even happen. I mean… guys don’t want virgin girls.”

“Maybe you should ask him yourself; you know he’s going to the Halloween party hosted by Sero’s frat. And if not Todoroki, I’m still betting on you and Midoriya!”

A flash of disgust makes you grimace. Midoriya was a nice childhood friend, but even just thinking of him romantically makes your stomach flip. Just no.

“Do you really think I should go? I have an invite.”

“I think you should! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Supposedly, a lot. None of it had even started at the actual party. It began with you eating after your stats class. A familiar voice, Midoriya, calls out to you, and you’re inclined to smile until you see who’s with him. Todoroki, covered head to toe in black and looking sluggish at best, was he sick? Why is he–or better yet, they coming over here?!

“You finished stats already?”

“Oh! Um, yeah! We got let out early, so….”

Midoriya nods in understanding before glancing over at Todoroki, “have you guys met before?”

You’re quick to nod in response, the urge to ramble wanting to spill out of you is a natural reaction, but a deep baritone voice cuts you off (you have to refrain from whimpering.)

“We have. You’re a biochem major, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am, and you’re doing history, right?”

“Mhm. With a focus on ancient mythology, have you heard of it?”

“I don’t know too much, really! It sounds cool!”

“...Maybe I can teach you sometime.”

Your childhood friend nods eagerly, citing that Todoroki was an expert on ancient myths, “you’d think he’s lived it with the way he talks about it!”

Todoroki shrugs, and you clock that he seems to be done talking, but his eyes are piercing your body and soul. It’s overwhelming, and it’s attractive.

Midoriya checks the time and rubs your shoulder affectionately at his disappointment of having to leave, and Todoroki nods politely until they’re both crossing the grass together. You still feel out of it, like none of this even happened because… what exactly did he mean?”

“‘Maybe I can teach you sometime?!’ He wants to fuck!”

“Oh my god, maybe he’s just being polite. It’s not my expertise, really,” you sigh and sip your iced coffee, “I mean, you don’t think…?”

“He’s gonna teach you how to suck his dick. I’m sure of it!”

Your coffee spills out your mouth, and you roll your eyes, “again! I’ve seen porn; I know what to do, Mina.”

“Then prove it,” and she’s turning herself around with her bright pink hair and holding her hand out, “if you actually get it on with Todoroki on Friday, I’ll do your laundry for the next month.”

A game with no losers, “and if I get cold feet… I get to do yours?”

“Yup! For your sake, I’m actually looking forward to doing your laundry if it means you’re going out of your comfort zone! This is huge for you! I’m excited even; we’ll go to the party together,” a true friend, she shakes your hand and pecks your cheek, “and tell me how big it is when you see it, I need to prove Jirou wrong.”

The two of you giggle like schoolgirls, but the challenge weighs in your mind as you take notes or wash your face. It follows you like a cloud over your head. Was this going to even be possible?

Would Todoroki even want you on Friday night? What if he’s kissing some other girl?

“Just don’t overthink it! I think the cat costume is cute; it’s a Halloween party! I mean, do you think the Alien Queen costume is weird?”

“What?! No, you were made to be an Alien Queen!”

You playfully slap her on the bottom and grin, “I think everyone else is gonna like it too.”

“Says you! The way your hips sway, and the tail? I’ll just keep you to myself; no Todoroki for you!”

Smiling, you take her into your arms and sway in a hug together, “I’m nervous, but I’m gonna do it. I didn’t take those two shots for nothing!”

She gently nods and grips your hands, smiling so sweetly at you that you’re sure you could fall in love with her. Maybe in another universe, “ready to go?”

With a resounding “yup,” the door slams, and you’re shivering in the cold as you make your way to Sero’s frat. Tau Phi Delta is known for its surplus of alcohol, and, well, Todoroki always goes there. Apparently, it’s something due to the lights, and you’re keenly aware once the two of you walk in that there are hardly any lights.

But you see him in the corner chatting, drink in his hand, and face relaxed. His cape flutters before falling back on his shoulders, and you think you should go and say hi, but then Kaminari appears. By the time you look back again, he’s gone.

“Are you having a good time? You look really pretty!”

Kaminari’s swaying into your arms, and you’re quick to lean him against the wall when you hear the swish of alcohol dropping onto the floor, “really? Thank you! I am having a good time!”

“Yeah, I always thought you were hot but never said anything! I thought you were with Midoriya….”

Your heart twinges, but you’re happy to have seen him and Uraraka disappear off somewhere. Maybe this would finally dispel the rumors! Then, you’re daring to be bold, and the words are tumbling out before you can even think to say anything.

“I’m actually looking for someone else tonight!”

‘Wha? Who?! Me?!”

“No! No, I’m looking for Todoroki. Have you seen him?”

“Todoroki?! What? You can’t date Todoroki! Or, or have sex with him,” he looks around frantically before leaning over, “don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

Kaminari’s soft lips move, but then a hand is on your shoulder. You think of your friend, but suddenly Todoroki seems so much taller and broader that you feel like a newborn fawn under his gaze. Kaminari straightens up, and your instinct makes you feel like a bunny running from a wolf because something isn’t right!

“I have never seen you so drunk, Kaminari,” Todoroki glances down at you before running his thumb over the curve of your shoulder, “I think Sero needs some help with the kegs.”

Kaminari stares dumbly before nodding, “yeah, yeah. I’ll go do that!”

You look back at Todoroki before taking a shaky step back. Why did it feel so cold? Why were his hands so cold?...

“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of vampires?”

His eyes shine a gold ring before he blinks it away. You’re dumbfounded and shaking your head, “I like vampires.”

A relaxed, sexy grin grows on his face as he leans over even more to pronounce the height and size he has over you. He simply breathes you in. You smell so good that he feels his fingers twitch with the urge to grab you and slice open your tender flesh to taste your sweet nectar.

“I’d hope so. You were looking for me?”

You’re not sure what it is. Maybe your pre-gaming had taken you down the wrong path because while something inside you stroked the heat of fear growing, it also stroked the fire of arousal that was swirling within your tummy.

Has Todoroki always looked so enchanting? Had he always had such a yellow glow to his eyes? When you first bumped into him, he looked so dead. The dull, pale skin highlighted the scar that turned his smooth skin into a land of rugged wrinkles and tenderness. Mina’s voice echoes in your head and yells at you to kiss him or take his hand in yours and guide him upstairs.

“Do you wanna dance?”

He seems to mull it over, eyes raking the crowd before settling on you with an eerily calm look, “alright. Let me get another drink first. Do you want one too?”

His hand comes to cup your cheek, and your head tilts too quickly because your shirt is exposing more of the curve of your jaw and the pulse point Todoroki knows is there. You were so soft, so malleable, and you smelled so fucking good. He was drunk on your smell, the way he knew that you were soaking your panties all because he turned you into the submissive girl you are. The girl you’ve always been, the one no one had bothered to show you that you had in you.

He wanted to ruin you and felt the soft tendrils of arousal swirling when you breathily breathed out that you wanted another drink. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine himself pushing the fat mushroom head of his cock into your tight hole and imagining the whispers of “Shoto” echoing around him.

Then, he’s leaving; if he stood there any longer with your throat bared to him like that… he’s not sure what could happen. You were intoxicating; he had to get out of there. You fiddle with the hem of your skirt, riding off the high that he’d triggered within you. His fingernails felt sharper, and the pressure that kept your head right in his palm made you want to cling to him and never let go.

“Drink some first, it’s too full, and you’ll spill it on the floor.”

You could only nod, taking your lips to the cup and sucking down the strawberry lemonade vodka mix (you were sure it was Kirishima’s idea, and it was a damn good one!) Soft lips encapsulated the cup’s rim, and you swear Todoroki’s eyes glossed over before he blinked back to reality.

“C’mon, you can do better than that,” he sighs and pushes a stray hair from your face, “wanna see you work for it. You don’t wanna waste your drink, hm?”

It shouldn’t be sexual; it’s not sexual! But then you imagine yourself under Todoroki as he guides your hair into a ponytail so he can slip into your virgin throat and groan, “you’re so good. You know that; you’re so sweet for letting me fuck your throat.”

Maybe he’d call you precious. Maybe he’d take your lips into a feverish kiss as his canines graze the soft skin of your lip. Perhaps he’d tug it just to hear you whine and whimper because you know there’s no escape. He has you right where he wants you.

“I’ll do it for you,” you smile and finish with a gulp that leaves juice spilling down your chin and dripping onto your cleavage, “see?”

His eyes watch the liquid dribble down your chin and spill onto the softness of your breast; he can feel the tenderness in his gums as the urge to unhinge his jaw and BITE!

“Todoroki?”

“What?...”

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go dance?”

He’s rendered speechless, acutely aware of how his nails drawback; he almost did something unforgivable. He wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to dance with the hard-on sitting heavily in his dress pants, but every time you turned back to smile at him, he wanted to try for you.

It’s heady in the room blacked out by tarp and strobe lights. The smell of sweat is overwhelming, and Todoroki is thankful he hadn’t drunk too much because this environment makes him want to go into a fucking frenzy.

You make him want to destroy. To condemn the world he lives in because he’s not meant for it, not suited for it.

“I love this song!” you cry, alcohol flushing your face and making your lips pinker, eyes a bit brighter, and steps unstable.

Todoroki reminds himself to reel in his nerves. You’re not just some girl. After bumping into you various times, he found his heart beating out his base needs for thirst and hunger. He wanted to hear you talk about your major, to hold your hand in his, and to tell you that the rumors were true.

That this wasn’t a costume. That he… he’s not thinking clearly. Everything smells much sweeter, and you’re getting closer to him. He’s getting drunk, getting almost sick because it’s been so long, and you’re right there. Visions of you on top, creaming on his cock and mewling his name juxtaposed with the sight of you panting while he drank and DRANK!

You’re a virgin, too; he’d make it so sweet for you. It’s what you deserve. You’re not innocent, though, and he throws all caution to the wind when you grind up against him. It doesn’t matter if Midoriya gave him a weird look for mentioning that you were cute, not when he’s got a soft body to nestle his body into and feel against his skin.

Someone who can warm him from the inside out and doesn’t need to give him a drink to get drunk. You two stay like that, almost uncaring with how he’s grappling for purchase against your swaying hips and shamelessly bringing you back to rock against his present hardness.

“You make me feel so…” you’re panting as the next 2000s pop song begins to play, and Todoroki gets even closer, “I made a bet with Mina.”

What are you saying?

“Did you? What was it?”

“That…that we were gonna fuck. That, well, that I wanted too,” and you’re spinning in his grasp to wrap your arms around his shoulders. The boy just within your grasp grins.

“You could’ve just asked, darling.”

“Huh?”

Soft lips graze against your ear, “I’d fuck you anytime you want. When Midoriya said that you were his childhood friend, all I thought was fucking you senseless. No offense to him….”

His hand slides lower, and he can feel the panty line beneath your leather skirt. If everyone else wasn’t as occupied with their own men and women, you’re sure someone would’ve taken a picture.

You’re growing weak in the knees. You’d never thought about his full strength until he’s towering over you and bringing you closer as if you’re a feather he’s plucking.

“When I hear I shouldn’t have something, it makes me want it that much more,” and you two look into each other’s eyes.

Were his canines always that prominent? You barely have time to think about it because his lips are on yours, and it feels like euphoria bursting in your chest like fireworks.

It’s juvenile, teeth clashing against each other and gripping bodies like it’s a lifeline. Todoroki’s lips travel from your swollen lips before traveling down your neck, a shudder echoing in your bones as it grazes where your main artery is. You don’t even see how Todoroki’s eyes glisten in gold and how his jaw opens.

You’ll be eaten alive, and you don’t even know it.

“Todoroki!!”

He’s ripped from your grasp. You don’t know what’s happened, but Midoriya is dragging Todoroki out by the arm, and you’re following.

“Midoriya, stop! What are you doing?!”

You’re stumbling up the stairs, and everyone’s looking at you with such… you don’t even know, but tears are springing to your eyes before you can comprehend. The door is slammed in front of you, and Midoriya shouts that he’ll be out in a minute. Lip wobbly and eyes fat with tears, you rub your arm to self-soothe. Why would he do that? Is something wrong with you?

You don’t even know how long you stand there, waiting for whatever this bullshit conversation is to end. Then, the door opens, and Midoriya rushes to hug you, “are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Why would he do that?! I’m fine. You’re the one that ruined…!”

Todoroki clears his throat before you two can ruin your friendship. It’s his fault, and he tilts his head.

“I need to talk to you about something,” his eyes flicker to Midoriya’s before back to yours, “he just needed to remind me of something.”

“I’ll be around,” you’ve never seen your friend look so serious. He pulls out his phone, and you give him one last look before walking into the room.

Your heart beats rabbit fast. There’s something different about how Todoroki presents himself now. He looks so… manly. Tall and broad, and his features are sharper. Even his eyes look predatory, like a wolf.

“You know what Midoriya told me?”

He circles you like an animal, “he said I shouldn’t go for you because you’re too innocent. I don’t believe him.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I could smell your dripping cunt ever since we locked eyes,” and he’s bending over with a grin, “I’m saying I don’t care.”

Your noses just barely touch, and there’s a magnetic pull wanting you to be enveloped in him. To burrow into his arms and let him deflower you.

“I know you’re a virgin. I know you want to fuck me. I’m okay with that, but I need you to do something for me.”

You’re nodding, and he motions to your wrist. You feel a bit anxious, yet you’re scooting closer and entranced with the smoothness of his movements. He’s Otherworldly.

All you feel is a pinching pain that makes your toes curl. It makes you squeeze your legs together, and your mouth is dropped in shock because Todoroki is holding your wrist in his mouth, and it’s just red. A hot tongue laves across the puncture mark, and Todoroki downright moans, “you taste so fucking good. The best I’ve had, fuck.”

“Todo—“

“Call me Shoto,” and his head lifts from your wrist, and the blood drips down his chin onto his dress pants, “do you understand now?”

He shifts closer, to the point you’re almost shrinking down to accommodate for his growing presence. Not physically, no, he could dominate you with a mere look.

“You’re… you’re a vampire?”

“And I want you,” he suckles at your wrist once more before leaning back in, “let me taste you, and I’ll fuck you till you faint.”

You shouldn’t let your emotions get ahead of you, but they do. Lips crash into each other, and you think Midoriya is an absolute idiot.

You weren’t innocent. You were desperate to be eaten up. Shoto wanted to make you a victim, and you’re not sure if it’s the ambrosia laced into his tongue, teeth, and lips, but it doesn’t seem so bad for some reason.

“Bite me,” and he’s grinning into the kiss, hands grabbing your sides to bring you on top of him.

It worked out perfectly for the both of you, and you think Shoto might be even more attractive with those flecks of gold in his eyes. Soft, pillowy thighs are seated on top of him, and it’s a treat to see the vampire so flushed with tinged red fangs, “want more.”

Laughing, you hold your wrist above his mouth, and he looks like a dog begging for a bone.

“I never took you to be so submissive,” you mumble, delicate fingers dipping under his dress shirt to feel skin glazed with sweat that you know holds so much power, “everyone said you were this big, strong, quiet guy, but….”

“Enough. Give me a taste,” he huffs, and you’re quick to move your wrist away, “really? Do you want to play this game?”

Pretending to mull it over, you sigh as your clothed clit rubs against the apparent bulge, desperate to be free from his confines, “I don’t know… shouldn’t someone who wants me so bad be a bit nicer? Maybe even beg?”

You don’t even know what’s happened, the wind cracks your hair, and you’re swiftly pinned under him with your legs folded up. He’d be breeding you if he was fucking you, sticky balls squished against your ass as he squeezed your neck just to make your eyelids flutter; he wanted you to go dumb.

“I never beg. If I want something, I take it,” and then he’s piercing your soft flesh again and letting the beads of red drip down the curve of your arm, “now, are you going to be good for me now?”

The breaths come out shaky as you nod, “mhm. ‘M sorry.”

Lips dance on the tip of your nose before passing by and pressing themselves against your own lip gloss leaving just a hint of its sticky residue on his lips that he’s eager to lick off, “you’re okay. You just need to listen to me. I’ll make you feel good. It’s what you want, right?”

The tables have turned immensely with the way he grinds his dick into your heat, a whine coming out as you needily beg for him to actually get going. Sitting back on his heels, his grand cape is shed, and you can see how his muscles flex and stretch under the white button-up. His sweat comes through the shirt, bits, and pieces of it sticking to his skin that you can even see a flash of his nipples poking through.

It’s incredible. It’s a sight you’re sure that porn could never even compete with. The hardness in his pants and nimble fingers (with added sharp fingernails) unbutton every button with a quickness that only someone desperate would have. The moonlight through the windows makes you drip in your panties, only breaking contact to reach for your distressed top until a hand pulls your arms away.

“Wait, I want to slowly take you apart,” he says calmly, like he isn’t making your hips buck with every word, “just let me take care of you, don’t rush.”

A white dress shirt slips off and lands in a crumpled pile at the edge of the bed, and then Shoto is encouraging you to shift up, and he’s taking your shirt off himself. He’s slow, liking the mini strip tease you give him by wiggling and extending your limbs like there’s a camera on you. It’s beautiful, the cleavage that stuffs your bra along with your mildly embarrassed face that looks everywhere but him.

He can’t have that, and a sharp nail traces your mandible before gripping your cheeks in the way that your lips puff out, “I want you to look at me, hm?”

Shoto doesn’t even ask if you can do that if you’re capable because he knows you’ll listen. You’re so weak, a fragile human; there’s no way you wouldn’t listen, knowing he has the power to drain you of your life force. He never would (you’re too cute), but he could, leading you both to lock your eyes as he pulls away your bra.

“You have such pretty tits, all soft and puffy nipples,” he almost gets lost in your chest, fingers tweaking soft skin that makes your back arch, “wanna suck on them.”

Your hands thread into his hair, whining a “yes” as a warm mouth encapsulates your tit, sucking and tongue laving over the sensitive skin. It feels incredible, and it’s not surprising that so many raved about Shoto’s mouth, hands, or cock; he knows what he’s doing. Sharp teeth give the tease of danger as you feel the tip of it drag across your breasts, and while you know you should feel fear… you just feel the slick pooling in your thighs.

He takes a breath, spreading the shine down the middle of your chest, “you’re so weak.”

“What?”

“I said…” he pauses, mulling over his next course of action before he rips your panties clean off with a single finger, “you’re so weak. I could snap you like I snapped those pretty panties, but I won’t.”

You’re rising to your elbows, about to say something, until you feel a hot tongue licking between your thighs, spreading your pussy open like a starving man devouring you.

“Shoto! W-Wait! I wasn’t…!”

He’s relentless, lips pursing around your clit and sucking. Your warbled moans are shrieky and high, and you know someone is passing by the room with mischievous glances as you cry out his name like you’re in prayer.

Shoto works his tongue through your folds, groaning because you taste so fucking good, and he’s borderline inhaling your scent. He’s high off it. Just like the warmth of your blood, his hands pull you by your ass closer, so he can suck every ounce of liquid gold out of you till you’re creaming on his tongue like the good girl you are.

Retracting his nails, his eyes are on you as he slides in a long slender finger. Your walls desperately contract around him, and he growls when your hips begin to cant away from him like you want to run away; you can’t.

“Don’t move; look at me.”

“Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad! Please, please, please,” you lock eyes with him and nearly throb at the way the orbs are shining, and your wetness is spread across his face like you threw a water balloon at him. He’s glistening, and it’s all because you get horny over fucking vampires, “lemme cum on your face, want, wanna….”

Suckling your clit and petting your walls, he can only imagine how you’ll feel when he spears you on his cock and makes you shudder because he’s so deep; he wants to be practically in your stomach. Then, you’re tightening dangerously around him, “gonna cum! Gonna, wait, it’s…!”

For a moment, you feel nothing. A euphoric feeling starts low in your tummy till you’re bucking and wailing; Shoto can’t help but admire you in this state (knowing that he was the only one who’s made you squirt before) as you writhe on the bed. You’re nearly brought to tears, hole gushing and leaking, while he just cleans you up as if it’s no big deal. Shoto acts as if he hadn’t just made you see stars on his fingers, and you hardly feel like you can breathe as he works you down.

A hand taps your cheek as your eyes flutter, “still with me? I want a thank you,” and you tilt your head to the side wordlessly. An eye for an eye and the piercing feeling gives you aftershocks as your head soars into the clouds.

He’s grinding into you, cradling your head and lapping at the blood that’s beginning to nearly stream down onto the soft pillows. A monstrous growl rumbles in his chest because–fuck, he could cum like this. He suckles a minute more before rushing to undo his belt buckle and free himself from the confines of precum-soaked boxers.

“Condom…?”

Laughter comes out of both of you. You were nearly drained of all living thoughts, yet you’re still coherent enough to spread your legs and remind him you don’t want a baby. Shoto feels a warmth in his chest, and a voice in his brain tells him he should take you out on a date sometime.

Maybe later, right now, he just wants to stuff his cock in you and carve your insides to fit him and only him. Virgins were his favorite. You sit up, soft hands taking his cock into your hold, and you gaze at it in a sort of wonder, “it’s, um….”

“Go on,” he sighs, watching your wrists flick slowly before you dribble a glob of spit onto his angry, fat head. It mixes with his precum, and he shudders when your thumb massages the mixture into the slit that was steadily leaking, “fuck….”

It’s incredible knowing you can make someone feel so good with a couple strokes of your hand, but Shoto’s eyes are closed, and his mouth is open to breathe. You can see his fangs stained with red piercing through his gums. Working him up, you try to remember everything you’ve heard and learned by focusing on the tip with a gentle hold; you don’t want to hurt him!

A thought worms its way into your head, and you wonder if taking the tip into your mouth would be so bad. You’d never tried it before, and you have half a mind to cover the tips of your teeth before sucking on the flesh. It’s heavy and warm in your mouth that it’s almost overwhelming. Seeing him jump and groan, strong fingers flexing against the urge to push you farther down and fuck into your throat, is worth it.

“Your mouth is so wet and warm, fuck. I’d love to fuck this throat, but…I wanna feel myself deep in your insides.”

His hands tear you away from his cock, a string of spit connecting you two as he rips a condom wrapper to shreds. Shoto eyes you and the condom before taking your hand, “help me put it on.”

It feels oddly intimate, his hand dwarfing yours as the two of you work to roll it on, small “haahs” puffing out of him every time you brush against the vein that runs up the side of his cock. It’s sticky, and you feel a bit anxious knowing that he was actually about to do it now.

“Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not!”

Eyes that say more than words flick up to you as he positions himself over top of you, cock laying on your clit, and you nearly hiccup when he thrusts between your folds to lube himself up.

“You think vampires can’t tell what you’re feeling? You reek of anxiety and of arousal. This pretty pussy wants me, but this,” a sharp finger taps your temple, “is telling you to run away. Do you know why?”

“W-Why?”

“Because I’m a monster.”

In one fell swoop, he’s bullying his cock into your tight hole and puncturing your wrist simultaneously. You’ve got the voice of an angel, eyes rolling back as your back arches as if you want to lift up from the bed. His hips are flush with yours, and he can hardly refrain from pounding into you with the way your gummy walls are nearly choking his cock; it makes him sputter for breath, and blood trails down your arm from his carelessness.

“So big, Sho…!” eyelashes flutter against your cheek, euphoria sailing through your bones as he rocks back into you with a pap.

“I know, I know. You’re doing so well, squeezing me so fucking tight, and I can barely move. You’re the best, my favorite girl.”

Apparently, your neediness goes far beyond wanting to be fucked, because being his favorite elicits a clench, and he can see the cream building a white ring around his base. He feels like he hasn’t even started yet, and he’s already ruining you.

“No one’s gonna fuck you like I can,” and there’s more slapping as he begins to get lost in the clenching and the squelching, “you were made to be fucked by me. Midoriya was a fucking idiot. I wanted you the moment I saw you.”

“’S a perfect first time. Love the way you fill me; you’re stretching me!” it’s almost pathetic, drool spilling past the side of your lips as he rocks his hips into you with the power only a superhuman could possess, “I like it, love it!!”

Every sin he’s committed, everyone he’s drained… if it all led up to being in your tight pussy he’d do it again and again and again.

“Gonna drain my balls, you’re gonna make me cum so hard. Fuck, lift your legs higher.”

He has to help you, brain addled with the haze of sex and body compensating from the loss of blood that’s steadily dripping onto the sheets. Ankles are placed onto his shoulders, and he’s folding you in half like you’re a toy. You are his own personal fucktoy that he knows he has to keep.

You’re rendered helpless, tears building in your eyes as it feels like he’s working his way into his stomach. In an echo chamber of your soaked pussy, you feel the coils stretching every time the hair just above his base smashes into your clit. You’re sure you’re shining from sweat and slick as he ruins you for anyone in the unforeseeable future.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum!”

“I can feel it, god. I can practically hear it. Make a mess on this cock, baby,” he leans impossibly further, and he’s hitting a spot that sends liquid warmth coursing through your body, “cream all over me. Listen to it all; listen to how good I’m making your first time. It’s good, right?”

“So goo’! So so,” you’re almost there, pussy gaping to accommodate Shoto. Your cock-drunk brain almost wishes he wore no condom so he could actually fill you up.

You’re so much better than he imagined. Every time he fisted his cock in the shower or thought of you under him, he’d never expected it to be so fucking fantastic. He’s losing himself, and the same feeling he had under the strobe lights strikes him. He’s not thinking right, and he knows this when he shifts you just a bit to see your head loll to the side and expose his favorite part of your body.

Like a whirlpool, he leans closer and pounds into you harder with an impossibly fast pace that you barely have enough time to announce how you’re “cumming! Can’t, it’s too much! Cu-umming!”

It leaves you breathless, a pinch, and then a burst of pleasure that escalates from pleasure to euphoria to fucking ecstasy. There’s a gush from your pussy, and Shoto’s eyes are glowing gold with how he fucks into you, clasping walls and letting him dump his load into his condom and fill it to the brim. He’s still drinking, and you’re tasty from head to toe. Every part of you is good, and he doesn’t even realize your breath is slowing down to slow puffs as he pulls back his thrusts.

“Shoto… Sho’...”

You could die, you might die. He only pulls away when there’s black spots in your vision, softening cock slipping out of you as he brings his own wrist to his mouth, dark, nearly black blood oozing out.

“You’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t tired at all like he’d hardly cum within an inch of his life or sucked you within an inch of yours. The dark blood fills your mouth, and you can’t do anything but swallow, the high slowly coming down as he grips your hand.

He couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to kill you. There was no choice. You barely register the banging on the door from outside because it’s so absolutely delicious that you can’t stop drinking and DRINKING! It’s euphoric. It’s so good that you don’t realize the black spots are fading away, and blood is spilling past your chin onto your tits when Shoto rips his hand away from you.

A mild horror fills you when he smiles, mouth coated red and tasting of iron as he brings you to his lips. A horrible pain in your gums washes away when he gropes your waist. What just happened? With a gasp, you’re pulling out and looking up at him. A feeling of dread washes over you as he traces the skin under your eyes, smearing a bright red like a battle scar underneath it.

He is a monster.

“Did you always have gold eyes?”

And so are you.

#shoto todoroki smut #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #todoroki shoto x you #todoroki shoto smut

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expiationist · 11 months

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just a little stem vs humanities student story, since that seems so be a controversial topic in the academic world:

as a language and business double major, i absolutely think stem majors are another breed. hear me out. my best friend of 10 years is a biochem major, and she has always taken the hardest calc/physics/chem classes. she would get As on bio tests like it was first grade math. her knowledge eludes me. i have to try exponentially harder than her in every class we had together, and we barely even had the same classes! she took regular calc freshman year, got an A pretty easily. i took business calc, got an A because i was so close to an A and my professor saw how much effort i had put in and felt bad. i have always thought stem was much harder than anything i was pursuing.

until i heard her pov.

she is also pursuing a spanish minor, and has been taking spanish classes since 8th grade (we took our first spanish class together). i took spanish in 8th, 9th, and 10th grade, then stopped taking it through classes and started self studying japanese my junior year of highschool. she continued to pursue spanish and has taken in every year and every semester since 8th grade. shes studying abroad next semester, and we thought it would be a good idea for me to pick up spanish so she would have an opportunity to teach me and talk in spanish together. however, i picked it up pretty fast after not taking it for four years.

i noticed she felt ~some type of way~ about it, which prompted a conversation between the two of us.

to spare the mundane details, she thought it was insane that i caught up to where she was within weeks, after not having taken a class higher than high school spanish 2. i told her i thought it was insane that she got an A in every calc, physics, bio, and chem class, which i was never able to get a single A in (until business calc in college). she has a 4.0, taking what i thought were WAY harder classes than what i was taking. hell, i couldn’t even get an A in astronomy. astronomy.

she then talked about how i had rarely EVER gotten less than a 93 on essays, even if i had written them the night before, while she has to spend weeks on essays to get a good grade on them.

the moral of this story, is that everyone has their own talents. science comes natural to her. languages and humanities come natural to me. i find her talents way harder. she finds my talents way harder because humanities tend to be subjective, and business requires a certain personality and being good with people, which she doesn’t see those qualities in herself.

personally, i think anyone who pushes the “stem is objectively harder” agenda is probably just insecure in their own abilities to do arts/humanities/business. a real mature student can see that everyone has their own talents and a field that is suited to them! there is no need to invalidate peoples academic pursuits. college should be about finding what YOU love and want to pursue, not invalidating everyone and making them feel dumber because they chose a different path from you.

do what you love, and study hard if you love it! just because someone studies humanities subjects doesn’t mean they aren’t capable of succeeding in stem. and just because you study stem doesn’t make you smarter than someone who doesn’t choose to pursue that.

HOWEVER. from my pov, stem is like actually shit from Mars that i will never be able to wrap my head around, so to be humble ill admit i could NEVER study stem subjects beyond general education requirements. kudos to you guys! but that doesnt apply to every a&h kid out there!

#study blog #studyblr #studyinspo #stem aesthetic #stemeducation #stem academia #arts and humanities #art #art student #humanities #academia aesthetic #chaotic academia #university #langblr #japanese langblr #japanese #japanese language #langblog

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tranquilpetrichor · 5 months

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the formula for late nights

cast: gunwook (zb1) x gn biochem major!reader

wc: 722

genre: college!au

warnings: food, mentions of yn drinking sometimes to deal with stress, descriptions of food, academic pressure

a/n: eris try to make a story where yn isn't slightly unhinged challenge failed. also the two could be interpreted as having a crush on one another. now that my finals are over, hopefully i can post more

sitting on an armchair in your suite, you sigh with relief as you finish your chemistry homework. you place the little pencil back into the iPad and shut the case. the device goes back into your bag, where you hope you won't have to see it until tomorrow's class.

you're glad that you've finished your homework for the day because you're sure as hell that you cannot handle doing another problem (no more stoichiometry, please!).

your friend, park gunwook, steps into the common room of your suite and greets you. he's been over for a while, but he was busy helping someone else in the suite with math homework and hasn't bothered you since.

he'd wondered if anyone would even ask for his tutoring help, but you assured him that there would always be someone agonizing over math. hm, maybe you should try it one day (if only you had the time)..

he glances at your packed bag. "so, you're finally done suffering through chem?"

you groan, stretching your muscles. holy shit, you worked for about an hour without getting up?

"i guess. for now, at least."

he chuckles and walks over to your snack cabinets. "for now."

you're not even tall enough to reach some of the shelves on the upper cabinets without the usage of a step stool, yet he has the audacity to steal food from there sometimes.

seemingly changing his mind, he walks to the freezer instead, opening the door to peek inside. you don't bother to ask what he's looking for because you already know.

"i can say goodbye to my chocolate ice cream," you mutter.

he protests. "what? it's good. and it's not my fault we like the same flavor."

perks of having a friend with way too much of a similar taste in food, you suppose.

"i guess we could share? we do have a lot."

not even thirty seconds later, two small bowls, two spoons, and an ice cream scoop are out, the latter item present because you never want to try scooping out ice cream with a regular spoon again.

there also happens to be brownies in the fridge that another friend of yours named jiwoo brought over yesterday.

"take them," she had said, "i won't finish them all anyways."

of course you took them, because who are you to say no to offerings of food?

you find the container and give it to gunwook, who's sitting on the couch across from the tv. there's six brownies left, but you'll probably save some for later.

"oh, we forgot drinks." gunwook says. he stares at you as your lips curve into a knowing smile. "no, y/n, not the alcoholic kind. we are not asking our neighbors for soju today."

you pretend to be disappointed and laugh. "don't worry, you know i only allow myself to drink in the dorms during weekends. it's only thursday. and it's an every-other-week type of thing."

(is it from stress built up through the week? perhaps. did you choose the life of a biochem major willingly? yes, so maybe this is your fault.)

gunwook looks for some chocolate milk instead and rolls his eyes.

"not the best habit, but at least you're more responsible than some other people we know."

you shudder. having to be the parent of the group along with gunwook and help drunk friends home from frat parties is a terrible experience, but you digress. tonight is a time for staying in, occupying the couch, and sharing treats.

he calls out to you. "do you want to watch tv?"

without a second thought, you perk up and join him on the couch. he's already unfolded the blue blanket that sits there, and drapes it over both of you.

"what show?"

he's surfing through the various programs on his tv, and you seem to sink a little further into the couch.

"how about the last of us?"

you nod. "i haven't even started it yet."

(you're known in the friend group for saying "i'll watch [insert show]" and never doing it.)

he smiles and navigates over to hbo max on the screen with your remote. "i think a little brain break is well-deserved."

"couldn't agree more."

with that, you allow yourself and gunwook the luxury of another late night spent in good company with each other.

#kflixnet #kwritersworldnet #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 reactions #zb1 drabbles #zb1 gunwook #zb1 fluff #zb1 fics #zerobaseone reactions #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseone imagines

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year

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Humans are weird: The price of faith

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“As you can see here,” Dr. Sasha Rebick said as she held the x-ray up to the light, “the tumor has grown close to one of your lungs, and as it has grown it has pushed into the lung resulting in your labored breathing.”

Sitting across from the good doctor was her recent patient, Oma. She had never treated a Parcoren before but she had read the research file about them. Humanoid in shape one could almost be forgiven for mistaking them as humans were it not for the series of bone spikes that protruded from the back of their heads down their neck.

Sasha had expected her Thursday for her schedule appointment but had been awoken early Tuesday morning when a local hospital had contacted her saying Oma had just been admitted to their ER and they needed her expertise to operate.

Twenty minutes later Sasha was in the ER operating on Oma to save her life and after four hours of grueling surgery her patient had gotten through the worst of it. Or so she had hoped until she saw the first x-rays.

Pointing to a mass on the x-rays Sasha continued. “Your shortness of breath, coughing blood, and feelings of drowning are all results of this tumor’s proximity to your lung, and I’m afraid the symptoms will only get worse the longer it remains.”

Oma’s spines twitched at this and they looked at the x-ray in disbelief. “But you save me now.” She spoke softly, her every word a ragged labor. Dr. Sasha shook her head at her patient’s optimism.

“It would be incorrect to believe that what we did tonight resolved the issue.” Sasha said regretfully. “The biochemical we used to restore you airways is a temporary solution.”

At this Oma’s expression only further darkened. “Can you remove the tumor?”

Sasha took a look at the x-rays once more and gathered her thought before answering. “The tumor has grown to such an extent that it is no longer possible to separate it from your lung.” She pointed to the mass itself and dragged her finger across the deadly vein like tendrils that spread out over the entire lung itself. “Even if we removed the largest mass of the tumor, any one of these offshoots could develop into a full grown tumor itself within a matter of months.”

She leaned back into her doctor’s chair, running her hand through her red hair as if to clear her thoughts of impending dread. “The fact that this hasn’t spread to the rest of your internal organs is nothing less than an act of god to be honest.”

Her patients head shot up at this and Sasha had realized her mistake. Though she knew little of the Parcoren as a species, she did know that they were heavily spiritual and by extension their faith seeped into nearly every aspect of their day to day lives. She had once her it joked that a Parcoren would not take a bite of breakfast without first consulting their holy book.

“So you are saying this is god’s will?”

Sasha looked at Oma and saw a mixture of emotions washing over her patients face. Fear, disbelief, disdain, anger, sorrow; one could hardly blame her with the idea Sasha had just put in her head about her current situation being part of their god’s will.

“Forgive me,” Sasha spoke up quickly, “I meant it more as a passing expression than a religious statement.”

This seemed to confuse Oma. “Your people use your god’s name…so recklessly?” To which Sasha shrugged as she opened a file cabinet underneath her desk and searched for a particular file.

“If you’d hear half the words shouted at a world cup finale you’d understand.” She replied drily as she found the file and pulled it out. She opened the folder on the desk and began spreading its contents out for Oma to see.

“We may not be able to remove the tumor itself from your lung, but we do have alternatives to combat this.”

She laid out a picture of particular importance right in front of Oma who looked down at it silently.

“Cybernetics has advanced by leaps and bounds within the last twelve years and it is now possible to give you a new biomechanical lung that will restore your health.”

Oma picked up the picture and examined it. It was a promotional page sent out by cybernetic implant companies showcasing their latest models. It detailed which species they could manufacture for as well as boasting that they could replicate any organ to the extent that one could not tell the difference between it and a biologically grown one.

“So you would…” Oma spoke up through strained breaths, “give me this cybernetic and I would be healthy again?”

She sounded like she couldn’t believe her fortune so Sasha leaned forward and rested her hand on Oma’s. “You’d be swimming across the crimson seas, dodging nerve sharks again in no time; give or take a month or two of rehabilitation to get used to the implant.”

Behind those darkened eyes of despair Sasha saw the spark of hope rekindled as a smile crept on to her face. Her eyes were barely holding back her tears of joy as she clutched the flyer tighter between her fingers.

“That would be wonderful!” she exclaimed loudly, before her glow shrunk somewhat and she followed up with, “But will there be enough room?”

This was something Sasha had not expected. “Room for what?” she asked.

“For another lung.” Oma said directly. “I already have two so if you were to give me a third lung I do not believe my body would have enough space for it.”

Sasha had to control her facial expressions as she pondered how someone from a species lightyears ahead of humanity could be so dense.

“Oma,” Sasha spoke up clearly and slowly, “we would need to remove the entire tumor lung from your body to ensure the operations success; you would not have three lungs.”

Her patient said nothing at this clarification. She withdrew her hand from the doctor’s gentle grasp and let the flyer fall to the desk as if it was burning hot.

“I’m sorry, but that is not an option for me.”

“I assure you,” Sasha began, “that the surgery is completely sa-“

Oma cut off the doctor by pushing her chair back loudly. Her behavior had gone from joyous relief to now acting like her mother had just been called a series of horrific words.

“It is against our faith that any portion of our body be willingly removed.” Oma stated as if quoting a book.

“Oma,” Sasha began calmly, “it is not a matter of debate between scripture and science.” She tapped the x-ray still hanging behind her showcasing the tumor. “If you do not have this lung removed you will die.”

“Then it is god’s will that my time will end.” Oma replied without hesitation.

This was not the first time Sasha had come across religious restrictions for such procedures. Yet it was still surprising all the same to hear someone be given a lifeline to continue their existence only to throw it back so casually.

“Tell me,” Sasha began, “did your god gift you with intelligence?”

This question took Oma off guard. “Intelligence?” she repeated, and Sasha nodded. “The ability to adapt, to learn, to improve yourself in the face of adversity,” Sasha clarified, “that is what I mean.”

Oma nodded. “It is written that our lord chose us as their favored creations and bestowed the gift of knowledge to our humble vessels.”

“So it is not against your faith to solve problems that are presented to you?” Sasha asked. Oma nodded again in agreement and so Sasha continued.

“Then by that logic this is no different. You have bene presented with a problem that you are capable of solving.”

Oma stood up suddenly, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. “It is not the same.” She loudly declared. “We are created in our lord’s image and to pervert it with foreign objects would be the most unforgivable offenses!”

“But you just said that your god gave you knowledge; do you not think they would be more offended that you did not use their gift to continue your existence?”

She ripped the x-ray off the wall and slapped it down on the desk. “Was it your god’s plan that you should die today? And if so why did you come here for treatment?”

“That is not the same!” Oma shouted again, though this time with less fervor. Sasha pressed on and continued to barrage her patient with questions.

“Why then is it okay for you to use medicine sometimes but not others? Why is it your faith allows good Parcoren’s to die when they could have been saved? What sort of spiteful god would deny his favored creations happiness?”

Oma said nothing in response and simply stormed out of the room with what vigor she had left. The spines along her neck vibrating in irritation loudly enough that Sasha could hear her walking all the way to the end of the hall and out the doors leading to the hospitals exit.

Sasha fell back into her chair and stewed while replayed the moments out again and again in her mind. Her assistance came into the room several minutes later and found her as such.

“Shall I remove Ms. Oma from your patient list?” they asked with data pad in hand, but Sasha shook her head.

“She may have given up on me, but I will not give up on getting her the proper treatment.” Sasha said as she cleaned up her desk and prepared for her next appointment.

“How very honorable of you.” Her assistance remarked as they stowed away the data pad. “I never took you for a faithful one seeking to save the lost souls.”

Sasha looked down at the x-ray one last time before placing it back into Oma’s folder and putting it away.

“One does not need faith to do the right thing.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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labrxnth · 9 months

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Prison Break- Part 3 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers, suicidal tendencies and thoughts

WC: 1812

Summary: Flash back chapter!

Tag list:

A/N: This is so self indulgent, my birthday and hometown make an appearance whoops.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

30 June, 2013

Leon sat down at his desk, rubbing the headache away at his temple. With Simmons now gone, the D.S.O. had to do some major rebuilding; both physical, hiring new staff, and metaphorical, public relations. He dug through his pocket and found the makeup compact that he had stashed yesterday.

His hands turned it over, wondering about his life and hers, if it was really worth pursuing, and if it was fair to a potential partner for him to still be caught up with Ada. He wondered if she would stop being “the one that got away” for him and if he could let go of her. It was either that, or stay alone for the rest of his life, that he was sure of.

It wasn’t Ada’s fault, Leon was mature enough to put all the hurt she caused aside. He knew that she did what she had to for her job, just like he did. They were two sides of the same coin, destined to never be together.

The stack of papers hitting his desk took him away from his daydream. Leon looked up to see a woman with glasses and a business suit. Hunnigan’s hand was still on the stack of papers she put on his desk.

“Read up,” She said. “This is your new field partner.”

Her words caught Leon off-guard.

“Partner?” He asked. His finger brushed his bangs out of his face so he could read the file correctly, but Hunnigan’s hand wouldn’t budge.

“Partner,” She replied and grinned.

“What? You got tired of having to deal with me so I need a babysitter?” Leon retorted.

“You could say that,” She said. Leon went to grab the papers, but her hand held them more. “Promise me one thing though before you look at it.”

Leon’s eyebrow shot up at the request, but nonetheless he nodded.

“Don’t judge them until you meet them,” Hunnigan almost pleaded.

At her words, Leon sat up in his chair more. “Now you’ve pique my interest,” He chuckled and gestured for her to take her hands off of the papers.

Hunnigan took her hands off the stack and Leon almost immediately swiped them. His sly blue eyes darted around the page, his eyebrows knitting as he read.

“She doesn’t look like-“ he got cut off by Hunnigan staring at him. He grumbled and read the paper more, soaking in your name and age to his memory. From the looks of it, he would be babysitting- something he didn’t want to do.

“She meets all the requirements, physical and recommendations,” Hunnigan said, her eyes piercing Leon’s.

“Who’s giving her a recommendation?” Leon asked, not looking up from the paper.

“Me,” she replied and smiled. “Don’t beat her up too much, you’ll walk away with a bloody nose,” she added, chuckling.

Leon looked up from the paper and she was gone. Maybe it would be good to have a constant in his life, someone that he could rely on. One of his hands fiddled with the compact while he kept reading your file. You were a normal person up until 2005. As soon as he read the words that followed the date of January 31, 2005, he knew he wanted to meet you and pick your brain.

January 31, 2005: Umbrella Factory contained outbreak. Casualty: 1

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

31 January, 2005

You were an art student studying at University of New Hampshire. Sure, it wasn’t your first pick, and the main campus in Durham would’ve been better, but your family convinced you to stay one town over from them. You needed to get out of your hometown of apple orchards, racists, and pumpkin patches, but wanted to appease your parents at the same time.

So you settled for the next town over in a mini campus.

You were making your way back to your apartment with a tray full of iced coffee and cold brew for you and your roommate, who’d been feeling under the weather lately. She had taken a trip with her biochem class to the Umbrella factory right on the river yesterday, and came back with a slight fever.

This morning wasn’t any better, she was barely response and refused to go to class. She never missed class.

You opened the door to your apartment and was met with a chilling silence.

“Anna?” You called through the apartment, clearing the threshold and putting the tray on the kitchen counter. “I got your coffee!” You said, kicking off your snow boots and taking your jacket off. “I even went to Dunks even though there’s a perfectly good independently owned shop two blocks from here.” You were sure those words would send your roommate running towards you, but nothing.

Nothing.

Silence.

Then a sound, almost like a growling, but not quite. And a squelching sound. Coming from Anna’s room.

You stepped through the hallway, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up with every step and creak in the floorboards under your feet. The sound of ice ratting against the plastic cup echoed through the now daunting hallway.

You wouldn’t call yourself a survivalist by any means, but you’d watch Scary Movie enough to know to be quiet.

Setting down the tray of coffee, you quietly opened the bedroom door. Perched on her bed like a gargoyle, your roommate Anna was hunched over, staring outside the window, twitching.

Your hands quietly grabbed her field hockey stick, the same one that was always leaned up against her bookshelf.

The floorboards creaked under your foot as you tried to scooch closer.

Your roomates head whipped around to the sound and what you saw sent a chill down your spine. Her skin was completely grey, some of it looking like it was separating from her body. Her eyes were big and cloudy, cuts all over her face.

She lunged towards you and that’s when you swung the field hockey stick.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

1 July, 2013

You were sitting across from Leon’s desk, in a chair that wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever. Looking over his desk you could conclude that he was either single, or he liked to keep things close to the sleeve; both you could respect. His stuff was laid out in a way that looked like everything had a place, it was a tiny bit messy, but you could tell everything was where it was on purpose.

The door opened and you looked over your shoulder to see the man you be partners with for the foreseeable future.

“Shit, am I late?” He asked.

His hair was a medium brunette, parted to the side so he had bangs and it was creeping down his neck. You could tell he put a lot of effort into his hair with how it was styled and cut. The black leather jacket and dark blue button down complimented his dark washed jeans well and his boots looked like they were prestine. This man definitely cared about his looks, whether only slightly or a lot was still up for debate. The one thing that stuck out to you the most was his gaze. His eyes were blue, like the ocean and the sky mixed together.

Usually, you’d find that stare unsettling, but his carried a sense of friendliness and humor.

“No, I’m early,” you replied, eyes trailing him as he put a tray of iced coffees on his desk. He stuck out his hand to shake and you accepted it. He had a firm, yet relaxed handshake.

“Hunnigan told me your coffee order. Cold brew with a quad shot, oatmilk, and hazelnut,” he smiled as he held out the cup to you.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you nodded. “Yeah, thanks,” you said and took the cup, sipping on it.

“You know, that amount of caffeine will give you a heart attack….” He trailed off as he watched you suck the coffee down to half empty in about a few seconds. His face was a mix of horror and respect.

“Trust me, I’ve had four of these in a day before. I’ll be fine,” you said, coming up for air after demolishing half of the coffee. You put it down on the floor by the chair leg so you wouldn’t finish it yet.

“Damn, okay,” Leon chuckled and sat down in his chair. “So, (L/n)….” He said. “Not that I don’t think you can handle this sort of work…”

Your eyes met his, your frown almost souring. This time, you had hoped it would be different. Sure, you didn’t look like you could put in the hard work that the DSO did, but you were here.

“If you’re questioning my skills, then yours should also be questioned. Our stories are more alike than you think,” you retorted.

The words came out of your mouth before you could think, and you regretted them instantly. Grabbing the coffee, you got ready for Leon to tell you off and kick you out of his office, but looking up you saw him holding back a… chuckle?

“Someone’s read up on me,” He said, the hitch in his voice from laughter evident. “I take back what I said,” He added and gave you a slight smile.

He handed you a piece of paper, the top reading “Agent Contract D.S.O.”.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, (L/n),” He said, handing you a pen.

“Same, and you can call me (Y/n).” You replied, signing the paper.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

“(Y/n)?” Two voices that were mixing together in your mind woke you up. Your eyes shot open and you registered the pain in your body first, the difficulty breathing second, and the cell you were in last.

“(Y/n)?” A familiar voice said again. You turned your head to where the voice was coming from and saw a familiar face you couldn’t quite make out yet.

Once your eyes adjusted, her face came into focus; a brunette ponytail, blue eyes, and a striking red leather jacket.

“..Claire..?” You asked groggily. She seemed to be in the same boat as you; her movements sluggish, her breathing labored.

“Yeah…. Chris is here too…” she said and gestured to the wall behind her.

“What are you two doing here?” You asked between breaths.

“Terrasave and the BSAA are checking out a source for bioweapons,” Chris’s voice was heard saying. “I’m guessing if you’re here, then Leon is too.”

“Yeah.. we’re here tracing a robotics engineer,” you added. Looking around the cell, you saw another person in there. Once you made out his face, your eyes widened. “And what do you know, guess I found him, Antonio Taylor.” You added.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch it early on my AO3!

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy x you

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