#“just pretend youre grinding on me at a high school dance” she says | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erythrum · 3 years

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𝑸𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧?(𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺),𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭(𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨),𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘷𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵/𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.7𝘬+

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The way you lit up the room dancing around to whatever song happened to be on. A mai tai in hand as you were singing your heart out. Your little sparkly-black dress hanging on your hips in just the right way. The way he could see your nipples just barely poking though the sleek fabric.

His ring-clad hand clenched around his glass after taking a sip, the burning liquid sliding down his throat.

"Got a little crush Rafe? Get in line, shes got half the island lusting after her," Topper said.

"Who said I was waiting in line?" Rafe's glass was slammed onto the kitchen island, and he made his way towards the living room. The bodies that had gathered around you were easily pushed aside by Rafe.

"100 bucks says he doesn't get it," Kelce laughed.

"100 says he does," Topper smirked back. The two boys shook on it.

His arm snaked around the back of your waist as he pulled you into dance. Rafe nudged his knee in between your thighs as you both moved about.

Why the fuck is Rafe Cameron dancing with me? You couldn't figure out why in the hell he was doing this. He used to bully you on the playground as children, even pushed you off the monkey bars, which just so happened to leave a nice scar on your knee. It only lasted up until high school, from there he pretended you didn't exist. This is the first time he's acknowledged you in nearly 4 years. Not that you could complain, he was an asshole.

But right now, as his head leaned into your ear, nothing had ever felt better. Rafe's fingers had started making their way lower onto your hips, giving a light squeeze once he felt your pelvis bone.

Apparently thats all it took to get you turned on. Because now the way his thigh was moving in between yours had caused a developing wetness between yours legs. The feel of his lips lightly tracing along your ear and neck felt heavenly. The slow grinding of his hands into your hips pulling you closer toward his.

"What do you say y/n? Down to get out of here?" He whispered into your ear.

A slight nod of your head was all he needed. Rafe grabbed your hand and began to pull you inconspicuously out of the crowd. The heat in the room didn't exactly help the growing ache in your abdomen. He led you up the stairs into one of the many abandoned rooms. His hand not letting go for a single second.

You were pushed into the room and right after he locked the door. His eyes were staring at you in that little dress, the one he deemed his new favorite. Your mind wandered further and further into what was about to happen. But you still hadn't turned around to see the man standing behind you.

"We don't have to, you know. You can always back out." His tone quiet and unsure.

Slowly, you turned around and finally met his eyes. Silent for just a moment before making your decision.

"I want too, Rafe." The words slipped out, you were surprised by your own confidence.

That was all he needed before rushing towards you, grasping onto your cheeks, and Rafe Cameron was kissing you.

His lips on yours sent tingles radiating throughout your body. It was aggressive yet gentle, like he'd been craving this but didn't want to fuck it up. You latched one of your hands into his hair, the other rested on his chest. Both of your gasps filling the sound of the room.

You could feel his heart pounding in his chest as you kissed, surely yours was pounding too. Rafe wrapped his arm behind your waist and pulled you in closer, your legs interlaced with one another. His hips were grinding into yours now, and you felt the growing bulge hiding underneath his pants. It only fueled the ache between your legs as you ground onto his thigh with greater need.

Rafe had began squatting down close to your level, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs.

"Jump." And you did.

Now you had your legs wrapped around him as he carried you to the bed. You were at the perfect spot to grind onto his clothed cock. Wanting nothing more than for him to appease the ache of your pussy. You let out a gasp as he threw you one onto the bed, the loss of contact between your hips had you squirming for more.

His large frame climbed overtop of you and he rubbed his bulge into you. The kisses slowly moved from your mouth down to your neck and then clavicle. Your hands tugged on the hemline of his shirt, he could take a hint. Rafe grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it off in one swift motion, leaving his broad chest on full display.

"I think this needs to come off," Rafe whispered into your ear. He tugged at the fabric of your dress before sliding his hands underneath it and pulling it off of your body, discarding it somewhere in the room.

"Fuck, Rafe." You whimpered.

His mouth reattached to your neck as his fingers played with your nipples. He thanked god you had decided not to wear a bra. As Rafe's mouth traveled further down in between your breasts, his hands moved lower as well. One of them tracing little circles below your navel, the other brushing along your inner thigh, closer and closer to the spot you wanted most.

"Tell me what you want y/n," he said.

"Rafe, fuck, I need more, please, I need more," you panted out.

"As you wish, baby, And with that his mouth latched onto one of your breasts and a finger slid back and forth between your wet folds. You moaned as he finally massaged circles around your clit, but it wasn't enough. Your hands were grasping onto the bed sheets as his head moved down your stomach, leaving small kisses along the way.

Deciding he needed some attention too, your hand traced along his belt, reaching just slightly lower to feel what you desired most. It was hard and massive, his cock was begging to be pleasured. You moved your hand as much as you could along his length, as much as the barrier of fabric would allow, until he was too far out of reach.

Rafe got up off the bed. He slid your black-lace panties down your legs before placing them in his pocket, a trophy, if you will, before crawling back overtop of you.

It was agonizingly slow, the descent of his mouth to your pussy, like he was treasuring every moment of this bliss. Until finally his mouth connected with your center, and you let out a gasp. He was still teasing of course, his tongue gently swiping in circles around your clit.

"So wet for me baby, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk out of this room." Rafe groaned into your pussy.

"Holy shit Rafe, I'mm begging," you nearly shouted, unaware of the loudness in your voice. Your hands were tangled in his hair, pushing his head down into your pussy.

"Quiet, baby, the others will hear," he said, his tongue swiping up and down your little cunt.

You had no idea what he meant, but it didn't matter as he plunged two fingers deep into your pussy. They moved back and forth, over and over again, rubbing that special spot that was sure to make you cum. He wouldn't let up, the speed of his fingers increasing with every breath you took, as you were desperate for release.

Rafe covered your mouth with his free hand as you squirmed under him. The ache was still there and your wetness was mixing with his saliva.

"Please Rafe, just fuck me already," you pleaded.

"Tell me how good it feels baby, how do my finger feel?"

He stopped all of the stimulation, leaving you completely on edge. Removing his pants and boxers, letting his erection spring free on his abdomen. And boy was he big, know it made sense why every girl was dying to fuck Rafe Cameron. The rumors of his previous hookups made every teenage girl on the island lust after him. Hopefully he knew how to use his assets. He crawled back over top of you, not breaking eye-contact.

"Remember what I said y/n? There's always an out."

"I don't want out," you said into his ear after pulling him closer.

You spread your legs as much as he could, and he lined the tip of his cock up with your pussy.

"I've wanted this for so long y/n," he said before plunging his cock into your aching cunt.

"Oh fuck Rafe," you moaned, finally something to appease your begging pussy.

“shit y/n, better than I imagined, so fucking tight,“ he groaned.

He slowly started thrust back and forth into your cunt, bottoming out every single time, you could feel him in your guts.

“Faster Rafe, please,“ your breathing had become erratic as your body accepted his pounding into you.

His pace was slowing increasing with every breath he took. He was going nearly as fast as he could, in and out, in and out, pounding into you relentlessly.

"Rafe, harder, please, I need you so bad, fuck Rafe," you could barely control your moans anymore. The room was filled with moans and heat, the bed shaking with every thrust.

"God, you feel so fucking good y/n, I can't tell you how long I've waited for this." Rafe started pounding harder and harder into you, your wetness getting all over his hips. The pressure of his pumping pushed you closer to the edge.

"Fuck Rafe, I need to come,"

"Beg for it baby, beg me," he said, continuing his relentless fucking.

"Please Rafe, please let me cum, I need you to cum in me."

"Want me to cum in you baby?"

"God, fuck yes Rafe, cum in me please," he made one final thrust, bottoming out in you as he came in your pussy, pushing you over the edge and releasing yourself all over his cock..

"Fucking christ y/n, so good, cum for me baby," Rafe said as he pulled out of you, his cum leaking from your used cunt. His body collapsed on top of you, both of your breathing in-sync, the tension finally gone.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

A/N: yeah im sorry if this was ass thank u and goodnight im logging off

#rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #obx #obx smut #outerbanks imagine #outer banks #outerbanks smut #smut #imagine #rafe obx

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chemspxdr · 2 years

Text

Color TV

Pairing: tasm!peter x reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Peter loathes parties, she loves them. He doesn't have the self-preservation to say no to her. Its a song fic (cringe)

Warnings: Peter has an anxiety attack. Reader and peter suck at kissing, it's cute. Normalize eating your partner's face. Suggestion of doing the do. Boner alert!

Word count: ~3k

Author's Note: Omg my first publicly posted fic ever. Be nice to me or I will die on the spot. Also normalize being bad at kissing lol. If there are any mistakes do NOT tell me bestie.

Parties were never his thing, though Spider-Man could handle hordes of villains and can weave through a firefight like a needle and thread, Peter Parker can barely handle a social outing with more than ten people. The scents, the sounds, the movement. His senses already place him on edge in the quiet moments, but the stimuli of so many people, so many strangers, becomes so congested he feels like he’s drowning — like he’s sinking to the bottom of a pool filled with perfume and beer rather than chlorine.

Of course, he puts on a brave face for her. It’s worth it; watching her get just tipsy enough to let go and dance on a table with all eyes on her. She can enjoy the quiet moments too, but once in a while, she craves the adrenaline of dancing to Drunk In Love on top of a table in a musty frat house. And god would he indulge her at every opportunity, put on a smile, and tolerate the bumping and grinding from filthy college students just to be in her presence. She doesn’t know that, of course, he avoids his feelings and ties them up with a neat little bow. Because Peter Parker is a coward.

He’s a coward as he notices the hungry eyes of those around her and does nothing about the surge of jealousy that rises like bile in his throat. He can’t. He can’t move.

Oh god, he can’t move.

She’s standing on a kitchen table that was no doubt found in a dumpster, tilting side to side as her weight shifts, white claws rolling and littering the floor around it. LED lights flash around them as the bass of some shitty mumble-rap song rattles the windows. Bodies cram together and twist his frame to and fro.

And he’s drowning.

He flails through the crowd of people, through the kitchen, up the stairs, until he finds himself in a rare empty bedroom. Now shuffling to the farthest corner and sinking to the floor, back against the wall, he closes his eyes to pretend he’s anywhere else.

The music and sensory assault have dulled to a bearable amount for Peter’s ears. She’s downstairs dancing, no doubt being the cause of the whoops and cheers emanating from the ground floor. He should get up, go downstairs to keep an eye on her – protect her if needed.

But Peter Parker is a coward and can’t move. His limbs feel like jello, his vision has blurred, and his face is wet with tears as he stares at the ceiling.

~~~

She’s drunk off two hard ciders because she forced Peter to pregame with her even though he physically can’t get drunk.

“You’re so boring. Your life must be boring,”

“With you in it? Far from it,” he grins.

She used to just dance for the thrill of it all. Used to enjoy the attention and the cheers, enjoyed making people laugh, jumping on whatever elevated surface she could see.

But now everything she does is for Peter Parker.

He’s a sad kid, she noticed. May says he used to be bubbly and excitable in high school but the Peter she met was torn by grief. His smile never quite met his eyes.

That is until she made it her life’s mission to make him laugh. Which was easy.

“I’m literally the funniest person on the planet, you can’t deny it,”

“Funny? Or insufferable?”

“Both, that’s my brand. Every great comedian has a brand,”

“And that is?”

“To annoy the ever-loving shit out of you, of course.”

Once that smile reached his eyes, the way the muscles of his cheeks contracted just so, eyes near shut — she's a goner.

His exasperated sigh and breathy laugh whenever she does some stupid shit, was what she wanted to entice with her lewd and deranged excuse for dancing. Every once in a while she caught herself glancing through her peripheral to see that damn smile and a tank of gasoline was added to the fire of her heart.

Lost in the music that Peter would definitely have something to say about when they got home, she never noticed when he left. After a few moments of flailing around on the table, she turns again to sneak a look to see if he laughed. Eyes skimming the crowd, her heart sank to the floor. Like, she nearly shit it out.

Okay, that’s a drunk metaphor. She’s going to need to drink some water.

She gargles his name and fumbles down from her perch on the table. Her new friends let out a disheartened howl when they realized her performance was up.

“Don’t worry, I’m here all week!” she yells out, met with various whoops and hollers as she walks away.

She shouldn’t have dragged him to this party, she knows how he is, but he said yes. She thought he had a change of heart, maybe wanted to try something new. What the hell convinced him to follow her along?

I was obvious, even to her. She tried to ignore the way he laughed at every semblance of a joke that left her lips, the way he gazed at her just long enough to give away that there was something more than just platonic affection behind his eyes. It's painfully obvious to the whole world, it seems; he likes her a lot, but acknowledging that means she has to acknowledge the devastating fact that she likes that he likes her. And maybe likes a whole lot more about him.

No thanks.

Pushing past the occasional couple exchanging DNA, she makes her way up the stairs and checks every room she can. Bearing through some traumatic sights lurking behind the doors she checked, she finally reached a final room at the end of the hall.

~~~

Sitting in the corner, time seemed to become too fast or not move at all. Either way, he doesn’t know if he was crying for hours or minutes when he hears his name. The door opens and she looks around, eyes skating over his head, then returning to his face after realizing his position on the floor. He gives a half-hearted smile and a thumbs up.

“Hi,” he croaks,

“Hi.”

She’s standing in the doorway, Peter can almost hear the way her mind is turning over in her perfect forehead. Her eyes flicker as if she’s reading invisible words in the air, then they find their way back to him.

“Whatcha doing up here,” she manages. He can hear the slight wince she tries to suppress.

A shrug was all he could offer. She strolls over to his side of the room and plops down, shoulder brushing his. For a while, they sat like that, heads resting against the wall and staring at the ceiling. It would be awkward if it wasn’t her. But it is her and he’s never felt safer in his life.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry,” he breathes out, finally.

“What?” She turns her head towards him to watch his profile,

“I shouldn’t have come, you have so much fun and then I freak out and you have to take care of me. It’s stupid. I knew better.”

She straightens from her relaxed pose and looks at him, really looks at him. Like she’s trying to open him up and peel him like one of those stubborn mandarins until she gives up and makes him do it for her.

“Why do you always bring one of these things to class if you know you can’t open it?”

“Because you’re here.”

“Is this all I am to you? A portable orange peeler?”

“What else are men for?”

He fidgets under her gaze, she licks her lips as she prepares to speak.

“I’m only having fun because I’m here with you, Peter.”

That makes him pause and turn to her, “You’d have more fun without me.”

“Please Pity Parker, you’re one of my favorite people

on the planet, you know that,” she scoffs, looks away, then glances back when he doesn’t respond, “you know that,”

Right?

He doesn’t let himself hear it, doesn’t let himself believe it.

“Anyone else would be a better option.”

Because it’s true, who is Peter Parker if not a boy consumed by grief and some divine obligation to destroy himself for others?

“Anyone else wouldn’t have put up with me for this long,” she’s still staring at him and he doesn’t like how her eyes have softened with love and care. Anyone else would be better for her, would keep her happy. She doesn’t deserve him and god she might want him and that’s even more terrifying than being alone.

“I’ll disappoint you one day,”

“Yeah, when you, like, die or something. Until then you’re simply stuck with my adoration.”

She shouldn’t want him. She can’t want him. Because he’s quicksand and all he does is swallow up all the good in his life and turn it into a mangled image of what it once was. Coward coward coward coward—

Oh.

She’s touching his cheek now, fingertips leaving flames in their wake as she reaches to cradle his neck with her fingers and stroke his cheek with her thumb.

“I could never not want you, Peter Parker,”

With that, he realizes he’s spoken out loud. And crying. And she’s impossibly close, warm breath on his face and thumb wiping a tear. Reaching toward the corner of his mouth. Hovering over his lips. Her lips open as if to ask a question and he’s collapsing into her before he can find the composure to stop himself.

When you touch something, you’re never actually touching it. The electrons of the atoms of your flesh repel those of the desired object so that you are never coming into complete contact. All you are feeling is the desperate pull of negative charges attempting to keep their distance. But kissing her? He will try his damned hardest to break the laws of atomic physics.

The kiss is a crash of lips and teeth, deep inhales, and hands gripping flesh. She was the first to pull away, desperate for a breath. She let their foreheads touch, breaths mingling as they both pant to regain their composure. A hand covers his mouth as he attempts to meet her lips again.

“I need to slow down,” she manages through quick breaths.

She realizes the death grip she has on his face when he makes a muffled noise of acknowledgment. With a giggled apology his jaw is released from her grasp, her thumb resting on his lips to maintain some sort of barrier. It takes every bone in his body not to grab it with his teeth.

“I just— I need—“ she sighs and her eyes dart to his and back down to her lap, “I don’t wanna forget this, like, black it out.”

“I promise you’re not that drunk,” he says with a lilt of laughter.

“Not like that, like— like,” she sighs almost imperceptibly through her nose as she takes a moment to think, brows furrowed so that the skin between them raises. He happily resigns himself to watching the way her mouth moves as she bites the skin of her lips until she composes her thoughts.

She begins again, “You know how I blackout after a test? I do it then just forget the whole thing immediately after?”

“Yeah, you’re horrible to compare answers with,”

“Fuck off,” she snaps, gently of course, at this point the words carry a sense of affection, “that’s what I’m worried is gonna happen if I don't slow down.”

“Okay,” was all he could muster, considering all his mental power was going towards keeping his lips off hers.

“Yeah,” her voice cracks as it balances on the line just before a whisper.

After what felt like ages of waiting, her lips are back on his and he almost hears angels weeping. This time is slower, he can tell she’s trying to savor every touch possible and commit it to memory. But he also can tell when she’s overthinking. Which is now.

He’s the one to break the kiss this time, “You’re thinking too hard,”

“Am not,”

“You are.”

Exasperated, she breathes out a laugh, “it’s not like every day I get to kiss someone like you, Peter.”

“Why can’t it be every day?”

What do you mean “like me?” he wants to ask, but the more he talks the less time he gets to kiss her.

“I guess it could be, but that’s a lot of men. I might even have to prepare weeks in advance. Make an excel sheet, maybe—“

“Shut up,” he isn’t laughing, he usually would but if he has to spend one more moment not kissing her he might explode.

Slowly leaning into her lips, he rests just a moment before to savor the feeling of mingling breaths. One hand comes to rest on her cheek while the other cradles her neck, allowing him to notice that her pulse is fluttering and on the verge of palpitation. He almost feels bad that he makes her this nervous.

Almost.

As his lips meet hers he finally, finally feels her shoulders relax under his touch, and only then is he bold enough to let his hands wander. The hairs on her arms raise as his fingers brush down her arms and up her spine, both exposed by her flimsy tank top. He hated it just moments ago when fellow party-goers let their eyes wander, but now? Now, he was eternally grateful for the opportunity to feel her skin light up beneath his touch.

Gentle, closed-mouth kisses accumulate to slow languid movements that probably looked like they were eating the other’s faces, but who gives a shit? He’s kissing her and he doesn’t quite have the mental capacity to check if he’s using too much tongue.

He takes her lower lip between his teeth and lightly pulls, causing her to release a gasp akin to an angel’s song.

“You like that?”

“Yeah, lemme try,” she leans in and takes his lip with decidedly too much teeth.

“That hurt,” he laughs.

“Oh, I’m sure you liked it just fine,”

Now they’re in a fit of giggles in each other’s arms, sneaking kisses in between breaths, and god he could die right now.

“Please don’t, I’m afraid I like you too much,”

With that, he realizes, yet again, that he needs to work on his filter.

Suddenly she stops laughing. They’re both in their original positions beside each other, albeit with tangled arms and touching foreheads. With his pupils no doubt dominating the color of his eyes with lust, he can’t help but watch in awe as she crawls to straddle his lap.

“What?”

The word snaps him out of his reverie, “huh?”

“You’re staring,”

“Oh god sorry, didn’t know that you are allowed to practically eat my face but me staring is off-limits.”

“You’re a dick,” she breathes before leaning in to kiss him once again.

~~~

She’s not used to taking charge in romance, if anything she finds herself wanting and watching from the sidelines for something, anything vaguely romantic to happen to her. But with Peter, something within her, some desperate pull to him, makes her reckless and impatient. Obviously, considering she’s kissing Peter Parker.

Kiss-red lips are parted in anticipation as he gazes up at her through his thick lashes, head leaning back against the wall, exposing his throat deliciously for her taking.

And oh, does she take.

She doesn’t start with his lips, though they called to her desperately. She wants to destroy Peter Parker. Take him apart and put him back together again with her lips and hands.

She starts with the column of his throat, causing Peter to take in a sharp breath of surprise as she begins her ministrations.

Nipping and kissing up his neck, she listens as Peter’s breaths become ragged and quick, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and clenches his jaw to regain some form of composure. Composure that is lost with a moan once she reaches the junction of his jaw and neck, right below his ear. His hands hungrily lock onto her hips in an attempt to ground himself while she moves back up to his mouth.

There is no opportunity for buildup, Peter opens his mouth almost immediately so that they could return to their previous, face-eating pace. She grabs his lower lip with her teeth, gently this time, and pulls away. But he’s chasing after her before she can properly do so and pulls her face back to his, hips rutting upward in the process.

Oh.

There it is.

She knows what it is, but that doesn’t stop her eyes from wandering downward in disbelief. A giggle escapes her lips.

“You’re laughing? You just kissed me— violently — and you’re laughing? What did you expect to happen?”

“I’m sorry!” She manages, laughing harder now, “I didn’t mean to!”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t, you devil,” he laughs with her as he reaches for her neck and pulls her into another kiss. She pushes him away before she can become too engrossed in his lips.

“Listen, if this is going where I think it’s goin—“

“It is,”

“I was saying, I would rather not go there in some frat guy's bedroom.”

Peter’s eyes flash as if he’s suddenly aware of his location. Glancing around he begins to cringe at the dirty floors, the unmade bed, and god is that a tower of Twisted Tea cans?

“Yeah, that’s fair, that sock over there looks a tad too stiff—,”

“Oh my god,” her head falls back into a fit of guttural laughter and he wishes he could pause and replay this moment in his head over and over for the rest of his days.

A wicked grin grows across his face when she looks back down at him.

“Your place or mine?”

#tasm peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #if you perceive tom holland youre wrong #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Note

can u do an enemy to lovers au with han jisung where they are in a hidden fwb relationship? thank u~ 🥺

I really look some creative liberties with this one HA but the product...hehe, I hope that you enjoy it love! I also kinda accidentally made it a period piece??? Like 50′s-60′s? Idk how this happened but the vibe and the music I was listening to while writing really put me in that mood haha

blue velvet | reader x jisung |

Paring: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung

Genre: smut n’ angst

Tags: stripper!jisung, stripper!reader, bi!jisung, enemies (competitors) to lovers, secret relationship, friends with benefits, explicit language, mentions of alcohol, degrading names, choking, spanking, v mild spit play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you slippity slap it friends), creampie, cum eating, scratching, oral (reader receiving) semi-public sex, hello yes this one is kinda filthy ooooops

Word count: 3.2k

Recommended listening: Blue Velvet by Bobby Vinton

Fuck. It’s hot in here. Too fucking hot.

Reconnaissance. That’s what you were doing. It was fucking disgusting. Everyone in the room was just as fake as the pleather belts that held their guts in. You had never seen anything more embarrassing in your whole life. Desperation was sweating off the walls and sunk into your skin. It made you feel sick.

You scoffed and took a long sip from your drink.

“One more?” An attentive maître d' asked you--if he could even been called that in a place like this.

You covered your hand over your glass. You refused to pay for any more of that cheap tasting shit.

Next to you a rapt group of men in suits wagged their tails at the view. She wasn’t even very pretty.

Rolling your eyes, you scoped out the rest of the room, adorned in red velvet and gold nearly everywhere. What was this? A high school musical? Even those had more class than this place.

You checked your sliver wristwatch lined by dainty diamonds. You always did like gifts. Too bad rarely anyone would get anything in return.

The girls on the stage twirled around, giving the audience the best view that they could, tiger-prowling to those waving bills in their grabby hands. They were tanned and fashioned into strappy and lacy pieces that looked like they all must have shared them. Pathetic.

“You come here often?”

He swirled some clear looking liquid in his crystal glass, the little string of olives clinking the side.

“Are you speaking to me?”

“No, I’m talking to them.” He head nodded to the same group of greasy businessmen. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“It’s my first time...and likely my last.”

“Huh. Tough critic.”

He didn’t look like the rest of them. Younger, reeking less of starved attention. He had golden blonde hair, and a silk white shirt unbuttoned far into a deep V. He was toned: the muscles on his arms were visible under the thin fabric and his abs made a show thanks to the abandonment of buttons. He wore dress pants perfectly fitted for his thighs. He was...attractive...but not your type.

“What’s not to like? Beautiful people, drinks to make you forget your mistakes? Not your scene?”

You rested your chin in your palm. “It’s my scene, but not this scene.”

“Suit yourself.” He took another swing, pivoting his body towards you, legs spread wide. “I think I know someone who can change you mind though.”

“In this place? Unlikely.”

“Come on...just stay a little bit longer and they’ll come out. They’re the last act of the night for a reason.” He signaled to the maître d' and whispered something into his ear. “Drinks on me. If you’ll stay?”

“Free drinks?” You put down your empty glass. “I suppose I can’t say no to that.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was thirty minutes till closing, and you had stayed much longer than you had liked. After all the drinks you had to pass the time, you were starting to feel a little buzz, but nothing much really phased you these days. You started to wonder if he had been pulling some kind of prank. Nothing you had seen was what he had hyped it up to be.

The lights dimmed behind you, making the room dark enough for the tiny white candles at the tables to provide the only light. Spotlights flashed on from behind you too, illuminating the U shaped stage. With the lights, the music faded into something much more sultry.

The first two girls stepped out, both of them wearing white sets that were nearly identical with sheer robes. Two others stepped out after them, this time wearing red and black. It was the same thing you had been seeing all night.

The spotlight tightened.

It was him.

He was wearing a button down and those same pants, everything seemed so tight on him, accentuating every curve of his body. Strangely, when he walked out, he was greeted with wolf-whistles and hoots. He winked back at his spectators, nearly falling out of their chairs to see him better. It was even stranger considering the audience was filled with men.

He walked around the girls on stage as if he was inspecting them, his eyes eating up every bit of their skin. He confidence was unparalleled. He would run his hands down their sides, digging his fingers into their hips. They circled around him until his body was covered with their hands, teasing the audience, just barely touching around his dick, which with his pants...there was little room for imagination.

Silent moans left his lips once they started undressing him giving him their full attention. The cheers grew even louder. Before long, he was nearly fully undressed swaying to the music. He wore nothing special, just some briefs, like any normal person would. It was...confusing.

He took turns “giving attention” to every girl, looking at them like he worshiped the ground the walked on. They would grind their bodies together, or he would pick them up in his arms, and they would wrap their long legs around him. He would pantomime fucking them from behind, screwing up his face as if he really was. Everyone went crazy for that.

It didn’t last for very long and the lights soon went all the way down, leaving the stage scattered with sweating bodies, panting as if they had just cum, entangling themselves all in eachother.

You were a bit unenthused, but it was different. There was something about him that was different.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Were the drinks enough for you?” His voice called to you just as you were about to leave. This time, he returned wearing the same silk shirt.

“I hope that I didn’t make you pay for too many.” You pouted with faux empathy.

“And the show?” He grinned a little.

“Interesting. Considering a place like this.”

He laughed a little. “I help with...the imagination.”

“So they pretend that you’re them. I’ll admit, it’s smart.”

“You’d be surprised, somedays I get more male customers compared to most of the girls here.” He bit his lip as if recalling a memory. “They pay well too, pay for whatever they aren’t getting at home. Who am I do deny them that when it’s my job?

“You sleep with them?”

“The ones I like.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Can be. In a good way.” He let out a sharp laugh. “So. Did I prove you wrong?”

“Hmmm. I could do better.”

He popped his brows up. “You could?”

He was intriguing. You decided to give him a bite. “I dance at La Rose Rouge.”

“You dance at that overpriced, snotty ass place?” His words turned poisonous. What’s it like dancing for a guy who’s got a stick so far up his ass--”

“--The price is right, and you get what you pay for there...especially if its me.”

“How am I not surprised?”

“I need to go, I’ve seen all I could here.” You bowed at him a little.

“Wait.” He grabbed at your arm. “I’ve still got one more thing to show you. Follow me.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Your insides were on fire as he fucked into you. Every time that he thrust into you, he was relentless and unforgiving. He was going so fast you could barely catch your breath. You were bent over some dusty old sofa in an equally dusty dressing room. You would kill him if he left bruises on your hips from how hard he was holding you.

“fuck. shit.” He panted, then reached one of his hands around to rub at your sensitive sex, slick with your excitement.

He was so fucking cocky, but he knew what the hell he was doing. He bent over your back, sucking into your skin, wrapping his arms around you to tweak your nipples. He was wrecking you from the inside out, devouring you like he had never tasted anything like you.

He kicked your legs open even farther. “Fucking moan for me, slut.”

You had barely let him hear more than a few gasps, he didn’t deserve it. You wanted him to moan for you.

“Who are you calling slut?” You said with venom.

You shoved off of him, and he looked devastated. He was cute. He even frowned regretfully like he had done something wrong.

The metal of your rings dug into his neck when you grabbed it, squeezing as hard as you could. Your hot breath snuck into his ear, “No, you fucking moan for me...slut.”

You attacked his lips, tracing the insides of his mouth with your tongue. He moaned right into you and grabbed handfuls of your ass with his two hands. Your teeth bit his lip and pulled. His dick trembled between the two of you and he rutted against your stomach to get some kind of relief.

He took one of his hands to your hair before resting his glossy brown eyes on you. “I’d do anything for you.” His voice quivered. “You ruin me.”

“Get on the floor.” You commanded him, and he did as he was told without a question, laying his bare body on the cold concrete.

The chill of the stone stung your knees, but that didn’t matter, you just wanted to see him unravel. You straddled down onto him, taking him in as you sunk down.

“oh shit,” slipped off your tongue without you having much control over it.

You rolled your core over him, back and forth, circling yourself and bouncing up and down as he rolled his eyes back, licking his lips while you did everything that you wanted. As you bounced he held on to your ass, digging his fingertips in. You had your eyes closed, so you didn’t see it when he rose is hand to slap you hard. It burned beautifully.

“—Jisung? Are you done yet? The rest of us are going out.” A female voice called, and rattled the locked door.

“FUCK OFF.” He groaned, and held onto your ass even tighter.

You let out a unamused tsk. “Jisung? That’s your real name?”

He didn’t say anything, but instead swiftly took you in his arms to lay you down. The chill of the floor startled you into wince, but it felt amazing compared to how hot you were. He entered you immediately again, then slung your legs over his shoulders. His blonde hair appeared to bounce a little with each thrust.

You knew exactly what you were doing when you dragged your nails down his arms, waterfalling pink, perfect, lines. His whole body seized at the sensation, sending him into a fury. He licked his hand from palm to fingers, not breaking your gaze as he used it to rub relentlessly at you.

You were on the edge.

“Want my cum, you whore?”

You were close as well, and it clouded your senses--you felt yourself slipping into him after holding back for so long.

“ye-yes, I want it.”

He came in seconds, doubling over you when he did, panting like a dog, with you gasping just as hard from your own orgasm. He seemed to shake a little as he came down, nearly suffocating you with his body weight. You jiggled your hips just a little to get a rise out of him. You had guessed correctly, someone like him couldn’t take overstimulation.

“Fuck, wait, wait. I-I can’t take anymore.”

You laughed a little and stopped. “You’re no fun.”

“I thought I literally just proved to you that I’m loads of fun.”

“Mmm, I suppose.”

“You liked it?” He ran his hand through his sweaty roots.

“You made me cum, so...usually I have to fake it.”

“Really?”

You nodded.

“I’m honored.” He grinned a little pridefully.

You reached down to your hole to catch a few drops of his cum on your fingers, stretching it out a little and playing with it. He watched you as you did so, eyes wide. You stood to grab his jaw, sticking your fingers in his mouth which he eagerly sucked.

“Where have you been my whole life?” He looked up at you in wonder.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that...Jisung.”

He watched you then as you dressed, careful not to forget your gorgeous silver wristwatch.

“I won’t be coming back, so don’t expect that this will happen again.”

“Wait--” He stopped you before you grabbed the door handle. “You didn’t tell me your name--”

“--That’s something you don’t need to know.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Darling, is there anything that I can get you?”

Your manager swept a caring hand to hold you by the small of your back.

“No, thank you though, love.” You shone brightly back to him.

“Just let me know? So far we’ve got a queue for you. Four gentlemen and three ladies. I expect that the tips tonight will be generous...it’s payday.”

You politely nodded. “Of course.”

“Have you been having a hard time with any of the new faces?”

You took a sip of your brandy. “Some of them have some mouth, but I’ll make them dignified. You can trust me.”

“I always do.” He gently kissed your cheek. “Ah, I forgot to mention, one of your customers brought you a gift. It’s in your dressing room; he wants you to wear it for your dance tonight.”

“I do love gifts.”

“Go get ready darling, you haven’t got much more time.”

Once you were in your dressing room, a medium sized white box waited for you on your vanity. There was no labels; no indication that it was from a luxurious brand. You opened it, and the shirt was wrapped in light pink tissue paper. It was too short to be a robe, but it was silk and white with buttons that looked more decorative rather than useful. You figured it must have been your customer’s: many of them got off to you wearing their clothes. It wasn’t your usual style, but you knew how to make anything work.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“And for our last act of the night: the wonderful, the illustrious...”

You walked out to the silent stage: meant only for you, the stage lights yellow, shrouding you in their brilliance. Your chest was bare, save for the silky shirt falling off your shoulders. They were cheering for you, throwing paper bills at you and calling your name, but you couldn’t hear them at all. You had never felt so whole in your life since being on the stage. It seemed like the rest of your days were just spent chasing some kind of feeling that merely resembled that.

Barefoot, you pranced along the stage, twirling like a ballerina even, letting the shirt billow up just so they could see your perky bottom. With all of their eyes on you, you felt like an absolute vision--like an ethereal being, desired, but impossibly attainable.

The jazz song played on by the live players, a muted trumpet and violins accompanied you. Your eyes swept across the blue velvet curtains of the booths, to every man and woman looking at you in awe. You let the shirt slip just a bit farther, revealing your back, winking. You never had to show them much. It was your charisma that they thirsted for--and that they could only get a small taste of.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Darlin’ you’re a catch, an absolute catch.” Your manager snuck up behind you taking your makeup off to hand you the ridiculously fat stack of bills. “You keep us afloat baby, you know that I can’t thank you enough.” He bowed.

“Stop flattering me.” You remarked with a smirk. “I know.”

Your manager left, then the curtain to your room screeched again. He slowly stepped into the light, applauding slightly.

“He’s right you know? Even I can’t get enough of you.”

It was him, cocky smile, swept blonde hair and all.

“You again? I’m surprised that you even made it in here at all. Considering who you are.”

“What? The competition? You didn’t tell them about me, did you?”

You patted some serums into your face. “Better leave soon before they rid you of that handsome face of yours.”

“You saying that I’m handsome?” He snarked.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seeing you, I thought I made that clear? Isn’t that what you were doing when you came to my club?”

“Like what you saw?”

“I stand corrected.” He let up, advancing towards you at your vanity. “And you look just as stunning in my shirt as I thought you would.”

“Your...this is yours? How the hell did you mange that?”

“I have my ways.”

“I suppose you want it back then.”

“No...you can keep it...if you promise me one thing.”

“And what would that be?”

He reached out for your hands, which you tentatively took. He swept you up, pulling you into his chest with eyes dipped in lust.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” He spoke onto your lips with heated breath.

You would’ve been lying if you had said his lips didn’t look appetizing.

“One more time.”

“Bold of you to assume that I’d want to fuck you again.”

“You haven’t been thinking of it too? My hands on your body...”He caressed your body down, “My lips on yours?” He pulled you in by the chin to carefully part your lips with his. “My dick filling you up?” He pulled you in closer to feel his pulsating dick. “You don’t think about it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you want me. All you have to do is say it and I’m yours.”

“You’re looking to get killed if they know you’ve touched me.”

“I’d happily die for you.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that...Jisung.”

His lips fell to your neck where he pressed slow kisses onto it. “Just say it...”

The cool of his saliva on your skin met the air, tingling. You couldn’t believe you found yourself considering...

“I know you want to...”

“This won’t be a common occurrence.” You got out, suppressing your moans.

“Is that a yes?”

“...yes.”

“And we’ll see about that.” He slyly grinned, meeting your lips once again.

He swept you up, and your legs naturally wrapped around him. He carried you out of the dressing room to the main hall, pulling you both into the nearest booth, drawing the blue velvet curtains behind him. His eyes devoured you, casting aside his silk shirt that loosely clung to you. You threw your weight onto the table, opening your legs for him, inviting him. He chuckled a little at the action.

“I can imagine you must’ve been thinking of this as well then.” He kissed down your stomach, removing what underwear you were barely wearing. He kissed and sucked at the skin in your inner thighs, kindling your excitement. Spit gathered on his tongue, which he let drip down to your sex which glistened for him.

Your core begged for that feeling once again, that feeling only he could give you: the one that made you feel alive, like you weren’t just chasing some impossibility.

He lapped at you slowly with his tongue, awakening your whole body.

“I fucking want you.”

#FRICK I LOVE THIS CONCEPT #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #han jisung smut #stray kids asks #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshots #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #kpop oneshots #stray kids angst

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yanagiin · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

a!peter parker x o!reader omegaverse au, seggs

contains-marking/biting,bondage,oral (m&f),unprotected seggs(on the pill)

“Yo penis parker!” Flash yells from the other side of the cafeteria. When Peter didn’t pay mind to what the other was going to say, Flash throws a meatball to the back off his head. The young hero was having a bad day as it is. Plus the fact that Ned is not there to suffer with him, leaving him to eat lunch alone to run some errands before the next period.

“What do you want Flash?” Peter says, not turning around.

“How does it feel not to have an omega?” Throwing his arm around the brunettes shoulder.

“I don’t know you tell me.” He says shrugging off the arm on his shoulder.

“Oh? So you do have an omega, bet she’s a nerd like yo-” Before Flash could finish his last word, he was kicked to the ground. Peter turned around to be met with you.

“geez for an alpha, you’re pretty pathetic for bullying. maybe i should try it too.” A young girl intervenes and proceeds to step on Flash’s back.

“Who the hell are you?!” She walks in front of flash and leans down to meet his eyes.

“Hi! I’m Y/n Stark, Peter Parker’s omega” she says with a malicious smile. She steps on his back again running to her beloved alpha. Others were in awe, her body underneath a blue long-sleeve crop with a white mini skirt and white high tops. Some would think she is a model. The other alluring fact was her scent. Out of all the omegas present, her own stood out the most. A strawberry scent that makes you crave.

“PETER!!” She jumps into the said boy’s arms and gives him pecks all over his face.

“Y/N!” He chuckles at his girlfriend’s clingy actions and sets her down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “I thought you were going to work for your dad?” Wondering why she was not in the lab with his boss, Mr.Stark.

“Yeah but, he said I should spend my last year of high school having fun and sent me here.”

“Wait wait. You’re-” Flash says, now off the ground and pointing a finger at Y/n slowly drifting it to Peter. “Dating that?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because he’s a nerd, loser, ugly, pathetic.” She felt her boyfriend’s grip on her waist loosen, she walks out of his arms. “Ha! See she was just ly-”Interuppted again, a meatball was shoved down into his mouth. Walking back into her boyfriend’s arms and burying her chest, her head in the crook of his neck. “Don’t ever let go again you bitch”

“Yes ma’am” Peter replied kissing her temple. They started to head out of the cafeteria hand in hand. Flash comes up from behind to grip Y/n’s butt, but he was stopped when Peter’s hand gripped flash’s wrist with such strength and bringing him face to face. Such hatred and anger in the brunette’s eyes. “Touch her once, and I’ll break all the bones in your body.” He said in a low voice

The young girl knew her boyfriend would protect so she turned around and flipped Flash of with two middle fingers. “Suck dick bitch” She stuck her tongue out. This made Peter laugh and push Flash to the side. He walks up to his girlfriend, who is still taunting Flash, and squishes her cheeks.

“Come on now, you’re dad will scold me for you getting in trouble on your first day.” He said turning her back to face forward and interlocking side by side. Once they were out of anyone’s sight.

“That was hot” Y/n says, smacks and grabs his ass, with no shame.

“Y/N!!” Whipping his head to meet her eyes, he blushes harder seeing the lust in her eyes. His becoming the same. “You have no shame do you?”

“Nope!! Now, one more class then lets go home.” Now back to her usual self. Heading to their next class.

“Wrong way y/n”

“I knew that” Going the opposite way she was first heading.

AFTER SCHOOL

“Is May home?” Y/n asks as they both enter Peter’s apartment.

“She won’t be back till tomorrow or Monday” He says fixing both their shoes as she flops and spreads out on his bed.

“Haahh… it’s finally the weekend.” She giggles as Peter flops on top of her in between her legs. He wraps his arms around her waist and snuggles his face into her stomach.

“So that’s Flash huh? Kind of a loser” the boy on her stomach laughs and picks her shirt up to place playful kisses on her tummy. Placing a few hickies here and there. She runs her fingers through his hair and grips a little once he gets higher.

“Can we do it tonight?” Licking the valley of her chest.

“Yeah” She silently moans out. He moves to suck on one nipple and fiddle with the other one between his fingers.

Y/N’S POV

I feel myself start to grind up into his growing bulge in his pants. Trying to get any friction going on. He grounds his hips down on mine. He groans and releases my nipple with a pop. He licks his lips as his hand starts going down to my soaking core.

“You’re so wet baby.” He goes to pull off my clothes leaving me just in my underwear. Going to my neck and starts licking and sucking, knowing exactly where my sweet spots are. I start running my hands in his shirt, insisting he removes his clothes too.

“So eager huh baby?” “Shut up” Once he’s left in his boxers, I bring his lips to mine as we go into an intimate make-out session. He slowly pulls down my underwear and my strawberry scent fills the air.

“Fuck baby, you smell so good bringing his head down to lean on my collar bone and starts rubbing on my cl!t.

“Stop playing Peter.” I moan as he sticks a finger in.

“Woah! It just slipped in, it looks like we don’t need foreplay today.” He stands to remove his boxers and get back on the bed. I was picked up and straddled his lap. He picks me up and positioned me on top of his member. I guide it using my hand as I slowly start to sink down. My back arches and leans back to grab his ankles for support.

“Shit. Baby it’s so deep. Please move” He listens to my pleas and slowly starts thrusting in and out. My breasts moving in rhythm with our hips. All that can be heard is the slapping of our skin. The mix of our strawberry and cinnamon scents together.

He leans forward to suck on the other nipple and abuse it just like the opposite side. His hands now supporting my body, I run one hand through his locks the other encouraging his hips to go deeper. The coil in my stomach builds up fast. I start clenching around his member. I felt him twitch

“You’re sucking me dry baby.” He pulls out and lays me down on my back. He gets on his knees and roughly thrusts back in me, pulling me by my waist. Peter’s tip kissing my cervix. I tell him I’m going to cum and he says he’s close too. He twitches again when I clench around him for the second time and we both release. My legs start shaking vigorously as I orgasm. He pulls out and watches his come spill out of me. I swipe my fingers on it and lick it. He gets hard and red quickly.

Now, on my hands and knees, I feel him start spreading the come dripping out all over my thighs and cvnt. He digs into his nightstand and quickly grabs his webshooter. He grabs my wrists and lets my top half fall and bond my wrists behind my back.

“You look so good right now love” His member quickly slips in and pulls my hands to move me on him. He moves my hair to see his mark on the back of my neck. Seeing this, I feel him grow bigger. His nose taking in my scent and marks spots on my backs. He sneaks back up to my neck and bites his previous bite that was healed from when he first marked me.

I moan and scream his name as he arches my back and rub my nipples on the sheets. We both come as he throws me off his c0ck to look at my shaking pleasure. I look up to see the blood on his mouth and wipe it off with the back of his hand. He leans down to press kisses on my cheek and heads out to start a bath.

I was drawing shapes on his knee as he washed my hair from behind. I hissed at the shampoo touching my fresh bite. He apologizes and rinses my hair. After he carries me out, and onto the counter wrapped up in a towel. Moving my hair to apply cream on my neck, amused that when people see this, they know you are his.

“You didn’t have to go too hard.” I pout pretending to be mad and turn my back to him. He wraps his arms around me, spooning me and laughs.

“Now they know who’s mine.” I laugh with him and turn around to meet his eyes. Brown eyes shining under the moonlight. I bring my hands up to his face and dance my fingers on his smooth skin.

“Goodnight alpha…”

“Night night omega”

BONUS THIRD POV

It was gym for the first period of today and luckily y/n and Peter had the same schedule.

“Penis parker, where’s your little ‘girlfriend’? Are you sure she’s not forced?” Flash back to his annoying self. Finding it hard to believe that the nerd had a hot, rich girlfriend. He went back to changing into his gym clothes but turned back around when he heard Peter and ned’s conversation.

“Woah dude you got a cat and didn’t tell me?” On peter’s back, prominent fresh red scratches on his back.

“Nooo- OH yeah yeah uhm aunt may brought her in last night.” Quickly he pulls his shirt over his head, wanting to change the subject. Feeling the stares of his classmates. Peter leaves the locker room just to be met with others looking at him and to his girlfriend. Wearing the gym uniform. Marks littering her neck, thighs, and calves. Her hair was still down covering the bite mark.

“Love! What-” The young girl gives him a slight glare leaving chills down everyone’s spines.

“How am I supposed to cover this up!?! I really want to play volleyball in gym today too!” He sweatdrops at his girlfriend but blushes when she ties her hair up into a ponytail. Not only him who blushes but, almost everyone around them start blushing red and turns away. He runs back into the locker room and runs out with a jacket. He sees Flash on the floor with his girlfriend stepping on his back.

“Yo Petey! He was being a loser again and it was getting annoying. Let’s go I wanna stretch before we start playing.” He shakes his head and helps her put the jacket on. They walk away stepping on Flash and into the gym.

“Good luck kiss?”

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REQUESTS ARE OPEN

#Spotify #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #spiderman x reader

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slythergirlimagines · 4 years

Text

I Suppose That Would Be Alright- Draco x Reader

Request: Hello!! May I request prompt 4 with Draco Malfoy where the reader saw Draco cheating on her and they broke up? & He tries everything he could to get her back but she doesn’t give in easily. This could be a little angsty. xD

Summary: Reader catches Draco cheating and breaks up with him. He desperately wants her back. Angsty with a little fluff at the end! (gif not mine!) masterlist

Words: 3,681 Requested: Yes

******PLEASE GO TO THIS POST AFTER YOU READ THIS STORY, I REALLY WANT YOUR FEEDBACK ON A CONCEPT I HAVE*********

For reference, L/n refers to “your last name”

I Suppose That Would Be Alright

Draco meant everything to you. You had been dating for almost two years now, and you were happier than you had ever been.

There was a different side to Draco that you got to see. To the world he may be tough and snarky, but to you he was sweet and caring. He was also overly indulgent, and you knew he would do literally anything for you. He always told you how much you meant to him, and you had always believed him. Until this very second.

Draco stands in front of you in the corridor, being snogged within an inch of his life by Pansy Parkinson. You stand there, frozen in shock as time grinds to a halt. The other students in the hallway dart their eyes between you and Draco, and start whispering. You whirl around as quickly as you can, unable to take anymore of their pitying looks or Draco’s snogging session.

As you run, you hear Draco calling your name, but continue to push through the throng of students. You tell yourself that you just have to get away. As you run, memories swirl through your mind.

The words swim in front of your eyes, blurring into nonsense. How were you ever going to succeed in potions, when absolutely nothing made sense? Tears gather on your lashes, further obscuring what little you could make out. With a sigh, you let your head slam onto the heavy potions book.

“L/N? What are you on about?” A snide voice rings out in the quiet of the library.

You whip your head up, and blink back the moisture in your eyes. In front of you stands a scowling Draco Malfoy. His silver eyes penetrate yours, and it makes you uncomfortable. You know what he’s like, and he so obviously is going to use this against you somehow.

“Shove off Malfoy.” You mutter angrily, swiping at your eyes with vigor.

Draco eyes you for a second, then takes the seat opposite of you. He reaches out a pale hand and slides the book out from under you, turning it to examine its contents.

“Potions, huh?” He says. He looks back at you, and some how his face is a little softer than before.

“I’m pretty good at potions, if I do say so myself.” He brags. “I bet I could whip you into shape L/N.”

“Why would you help me?” You question. His actions go against everything you’ve ever heard about him, and everything you’ve ever seen him do.

Draco shrugs, and juts his pointy chin.

“Beats having to help Crabbe and Goyle. At least you can read.” He says.

You catch yourself laughing, and it surprises you. Draco Malfoy is funny?

“Y/N.” You say, extending your hand across the table. Draco considers it for a moment, and then takes your hand in his cool one.

“Draco.”

The tears stream down your face, as the memories keep hitting you full force.

“Y/n?” Draco asks, sprawled out in the grass. “Would you call us friends?”

You look up from the book you’re reading and mark the page. You’ve been Draco’s friend for several years now, and you know his moods like the back of your hand. If you don’t give him your undivided attention he’ll pout for the next week.

“I certainly hope so. I don’t spend this much time with just anyone you know.” You say gently.

You always try to be gentle around Draco. He’s been horribly belittled and mistreated by his father, and though he will never willingly admit it, he craves the support he didn’t have growing up. You never want to treat him the way his father does.

Draco sighs, and then locks his eyes on yours. He scoots his head into your lap, and then sets his gaze on the tepid lake. It’s a cozy afternoon, and the soft light makes Draco’s blonde hair look even lighter.

“But friends can take each other to dances and things right?” He says. His voice is uncharacteristically timid, and it makes you smile. Draco is always softer around you than he is with others, but he is still usually cocky and confident. Now he is nervous, and it makes your stomach flutter.

“What do you mean?” You ask, smirking. Of course you understand what he’s getting at, but you’ll take any opportunity to mess with him.

He looks up at you then, grey eyes narrowing when he catches the expression on your face. Draco sits himself up and turns to face you. He’s much closer than you anticipated, and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks.

“You’re messing with me.” He says, voice low.

“Maybe.” You agree. You aren’t quite successful at keeping the breathiness out of your voice.

“Go to the ball with me?” He asks. You pretend to think about it for a minute.

“I suppose that would be alright.” You grin. “Poor Goyle, though. I think he already had his dress picked out.”

Draco rolls his eyes, but smiles back at you anyways. You can’t keep the blush off of your face the rest of the day.

The most important memory hits you last.

“That was so much fun, Draco.” You say as he walks you through the abandoned corridors to your dormitory. If you listen closely enough, you can still hear the faint sounds of the music. The night has a dreamy haze to it, and you practically feel like you’re floating.

“It was, wasn’t it? Doesn’t help that you had the greatest date.” He adds.

You laugh, happy and carefree.

“Y/n.” Draco says, catching your hand and stopping you.

“Yes, Draco?” You ask, blinking at him. The moonlight filters in through the hallway, and Draco’s hair and eyes are gleaming. He’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I don’t want to be friends anymore.” He says.

Your face falls as you take in his words, and then he’s kissing you in the moonlight.

“I love you.” He says when he pulls away. It’s all too easy for you to stand on your tip toes, and press another hungry kiss to his mouth.

“I love you too.”

How could he do this to you? You loved him, and until now you had never doubted that he’d loved you just as much. You had been so blind.

Draco catches you before you can get away from him.

“Y/n, wait!” He says, griping your elbow to pull you back to him.

“Don’t touch me!” You shout, venom dripping from every word.

“It’s not what you think!” He starts.

“Not what I think? What I think is that you and Parkinson were just having a nice song. Don’t let me interrupt!” You snarl. You itch to whip out your wand and curse him.

“Y/n...” he says, giving you the wounded puppy eyes. They usually work, but not this time.

“I’m done!” You snap. “There are a lot of people in your life that let you toy with them, Draco. They let you move them around like chess pieces, but guess what? I’m not one of those people.”

“I know you aren’t!” Draco defends.

“I won’t let you treat me like one any longer. I loved you!” You say, tears streaming freely down your face. “I loved you for years and you were just using me.”

“No I wasn’t! That’s not true.” Draco pleads. “Y/n, I’m telling you nothing happened!”

“If that’s nothing then I’d hate to see your definition of something!” You wrench your arm out of his grasp and move away.

“Y/n, please...”

“I’m done, Draco. I’m done.” You say, and walk away. Even though you want to, you don’t turn around once. You know your worth, and you deserve more than to be treated like rubbish.

The next few days are incredibly hard. The entire school learns about your breakup, and there’s a flood of sympathetic faces wherever you go. People whisper when you walk into a room, and grow quiet when you come near. It’s humiliating and annoying, and all you want is some damn privacy to mourn.

It doesn’t help that Draco refuses to take the hint and leave you alone. He’s already tried to approach you a few times, and it’s getting harder and harder to avoid him.

Today you all share a class, ironically potions, and you usually share a table. You know that it will be impossible to get any learning done with him next to you. Maybe you could find someone to switch with you. Draco was still astoundingly good at potions, and there had to be someone who would want to reap the benefits of being his partner.

Finding that someone, however, was proving to be impossible. You weren’t really that close with anyone in your class, and after the second no, you were starting to get the feeling that everyone wanted to see the drama play out. You decide that if you had to sit next to Draco, then the best thing to do would be to get there last and leave first.

You walk into potions with your head held high, seconds before class begins. Professor Snape narrows his dark eyes as you walk in, but doesn’t say anything to you about it. Draco is in his usual seat, sitting stiff as a board.

He is paler than usual, you note as you take your seat. Dark purple rings his eyes, and betrays his lack of sleep. Your heart stutters being this close to him, but you are strong and you will ignore all of this.

Snape begins his lecture, and you hang onto every word. You’ve never been so focused on a lecture in your life. You’re busy noting every word that Snape says, when a note pops up on your parchment.

“I really need to talk to you.” It reads. It’s in Draco’s neat and proper handwriting, and you have the violent urge to destroy the loops with your quill.

You lock your jaw, and then continue taking notes as if you’ve never seen Draco’s message.

“Y/n, please. I’d just like to explain.” Another note says.

Again you ignore it, and you can feel the tension in Draco increase as he scribbles another hasty note.

“Y/n, please..” the words start.

“Enough!” You snap at Draco, loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of the class.

“L/n, I didn’t know that you were so educated about Acromantula Venom that you didn’t need my lecture.” Snape says in his slow drawl. “Please enlighten the rest of the class with your expansive knowledge.”

“I-I’m sorry professor, it won’t happen again.” You say. Snape looks more sour than ever as he turns his attention back to the lecture.

You feel the familiar pressure of tears behind your eyes. This time, they are angry tears. Draco couldn’t settle for humiliating you in front of everyone in the corridor, he had to also humiliate you in class too.

The second Snape dismisses you, you are running from the class. You give Draco no time to catch up with you, as you hastily make your way back to your dormitory. Maybe you’ll just have to hide out here forever.

Draco tries again during dinner. You knew you should have just had one of your housemates bring you a plate, but you hate feeling like a coward. You’re not going to starve to death because Draco couldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth. You refuse to let him have that much power over you.

You’re in the middle of forced conversation with your housemates when Draco makes his way over and sits down. Instantly, you feel a multitude of prying eyes on you, and you again have the urge to run.

“Y/n.” Draco says firmly. “I need to talk to you.”

“Leave me alone, Malfoy.” You say coldly. Draco flinches at your use of his last name. You’ve never called him Malfoy, not since the day you became friends.

“Y/n, nothing happened with Pansy. I love you!” He says as quietly as he can. It irks you that he’s being so quiet about it. If he really loved you, why was he acting like it was such a shameful secret.

“Right.” You say. “I’ll believe that when I see it Draco.”

You didn’t mean it as a challenge. Draco’s actions had already proven to you what he felt. However, his face brightens at your words and warmth blooms in your chest. You quickly stamp it out, and ignore the feelings. You’ll get over that soon enough.

“I’ll prove it to you! I swear I will.” He says, and then he swings his legs over the bench and walks out of the Great Hall. You have the sinking feeling that disaster is looming.

Draco’s first attempt to win you back involves flowers. Somehow, he manages to jinx a vase in your room to procure a new flower for you every morning. Of course, they are your favorite kind of flower, and the vase magically expands to include them all.

The flowers anger you because they are a sweet gesture and an impressive bit of magic. Why couldn’t his attempts be weak and pathetic so you didn’t consider taking him back? Draco was too good at wooing and schmoozing. You have to remind yourself multiple times a day that you caught him kissing Pansy.

To his credit, Draco leaves you alone for a while. He doesn’t try to contact you or force you to talk to him. That doesn’t mean you can’t feel his eyes on you all the time, and that potions isn’t the most intense class you have. But at least it’s something.

You have five flowers when Draco makes another attempt. Your favorite candy from Honeydukes now appears underneath the flowers. You carefully unwrap the package, and put the delicacy in your mouth. It’s delicious, as always, but it makes you sad too. You miss Draco more than anything, but your trust has been broken. Some chocolate and flowers won’t fix that by themselves.

You miss him, and you really should stop hiding from him and just talk. He was trying, and that’s at least enough reason to let him speak. You didn’t have to forgive him.

You go down to the Great Hall with determination. You’re going to get this resolved today, regardless of the outcome.

You walk into the hall, eyes searching for blonde hair and silver eyes. You find Draco at his normal table, and then your heart sinks. Next to him sits Pansy, who is staring at him with obvious heart eyes. Your anger reaches its boiling point as you stomp over.

“Draco.” You say, tone stormy. “We need to talk.”

Draco looks eager as he jumps from the table and follows you outside.

“What are you doing?” You hiss. “You can’t send me flowers and candy every morning and then still be hanging around Pansy whenever I see you! It doesn’t work that way.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” He says, voice haughty. He sounds like the Draco everyone else knows. “I’m just a little confused because I try everything to reach out to you, and you ignore me and all my effort and then get mad when someone else acts interested in me!”

“I’m not allowed to be mad that you’re with the person you cheated on me with?!” You snap.

Draco’s grey eyes narrow dangerously, and his body shakes with anger.

“You never listen to what I say.” He snaps.

“You know what? I was coming down here this morning to talk to you. I was hoping we could talk about everything, get it resolved, but I can see that I have my answer!” You cross your arms, and lock your jaw. You desperately try to stop your tears, but they spill over your lashes anyways. You collect yourself for a minute.

“If you’re going to be with Pansy, Draco, just let me move on.” You say quietly, voice watery.

Draco doesn’t say anything to you as you leave. As soon as you make it to your dorm, you smash the vase of flowers to pieces.

Weeks go by, and you are more miserable then you have ever been. You spend all your free time in the library, avoiding crowds and Draco. You don’t want to see him any more than you can help. Every time you have to sit next to him in potions it hurts. You don’t even go to Quidditch matches anymore to avoid seeing him. If he’s with Pansy then you’d rather not know.

One particularly rainy afternoon finds you in the library, potions book on your lap. You aren’t doing much studying, instead your eyes trace raindrops as they roll down the window. Your melancholy is broken by someone stomping up to you.

“I’m not with Draco.” A nasally voice says. Pansy stands in front of you, one hand on her hip.

“Ok.” Is all you say. You don’t want to so much as look at Pansy. All you see is Draco’s lips on hers when you do.

“Ok, so stop moping and just make up!” She says annoyingly. Even this doesn’t spark your anger like it should. You just feel numb and empty.

You don’t give her a response. Instead, you shift your potions book from your lap, and tuck your knees under your chin. Once settled, you turn your attention back to the rainy window, and ignore Pansy.

“Fine.” She says, storming off. “Keep being miserable.”

It’s only when she’s gone that you let yourself become a reflection of the window.

Draco tries again for a final time when he catches you in the library. Today, you are actually trying to study. Ever since you and Draco broke up, you had lost not only a boyfriend but your potions tutor. Now you were desperately trying to teach yourself, and it just wasn’t working out.

Draco finds you in much the same position that you were when you first became friends. You’re all but banging your head against the table when he speaks.

“Y/n.” You look up and find he looks as miserable as you do.

“Draco.” You say. Your heart still thunders when he’s near. You hate that he still has any effect on you.

“Listen. Just let me say this once and I’ll never bother you again.” He says, his grey eyes imploring you to hear him out.

You sit silently, waiting for him to proceed.

“I never kissed Pansy. She kissed me. I admit, I let it go on for too long. I should’ve pushed her off the moment she touched me, but I was so shocked and I froze. Then when I finally realized I pushed her away and you were already leaving. I never had feelings for her, nor did I ever want to cheat on you. You’re the only one I want.” He says.

“I know I hurt you, and that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I would never hurt you like that. I love you and it’s killing me to be apart from you like this, to think that you hate me. You’re the best part of my life, y/n, the only good part.” Draco takes a deep breath and continues.

“After this, if you still don’t want to be with me, then I’ll back off. I just wanted you to know the truth. I love you, and it’s only ever been you for me, never anyone else.”

You are in shock as he finishes his speech. Draco watches you process his confession with patience, and it takes you a few minutes to really understand what he’s saying.

You feel stupid when tears well up in your eyes again. You’re so sick of crying and feeling pathetic.

“It really didn’t mean anything?” You find yourself asking. “She kissed you?”

“Yes!” He exclaims. “It was 100% one-sided on her part.”

You sniff, thinking about it for a minute.

“Ok.” You finally say. “I believe you.”

Draco eases his tense posture and death grip on the chair he’s leaning on. He looks at you warily, trying to decipher where he stands with you now.

You look down at the table and your useless potions book. How funny that your relationship would come full circle. You know how you feel about him, how you‘be always felt. Even when you were broken up you still loved him.

“I’m sorry.” You say. “You tried to tell me and I didn’t listen.”

“Its not your fault!” Draco assures you. “It was me, I was being a right git.”

You shake your head, but for the first time in weeks you smile. When you look back up, Draco is smiling too.

“So, could I have a second chance?” He pleads.

You pretend to think about it for a minute.

“I suppose that would be alright.” You grin. Draco gives you a glowing look and matches your grin.

“On one condition.” You tell him, suddenly serious.

“Anything.” He tells you with sincerity. He walks over to your side of the table, and crouches down in front of you.

“I really need help with Potions.” Draco laughs and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

It’s needy and passionate, and you let your mouth express to him everything you can’t yet put into words.

When he pulls away, Draco lets his forehead rest against yours. You relish this closeness with him in a way you never have before.

“I suppose that would be alright.” He whispers with a smirk.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed:) I am currently working on part 2 of “Don’t Call Me Princess” and that will hopefully be up in the next few days! Please don’t hesitate to request something, I write for several fandoms. I’m lowkey desperate for someone to request something Marvel.

#slythergirlimagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x you #draco x y/n #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Draco Malfoy

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sweetyyhippyy · 3 years

Text

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 12.

Chapter 12: Jealous and Undercover

(Not my gif)

Summary: Hotch has Derek and Bridgett go undercover to catch an unsub in a swingers club. Spencer gets jealous and reminds Bridgett who she is coming home to at the end of the night.

TW: Mentions of murder, talk of partner swapping, jealous Spencer, teasing Spencer (clit playing), unwanted touching, getting attacked by the unsub, more teasing, sexual innuendos.

Word Count: 3.6k

A.N.: This is season 10 Spencer! Also, I think I’m going to be putting out 2 chapters a week (Saturdays and Wednesdays)! Lets see how it goes first!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you know if Maddy or Kevin had any problems with anyone at their work? Or just anyone in general?” Derek questions the best friend of Maddy, one of the victims in the murder.

The girl sniffles, wiping tears from her eyes. “No. They were both nice, warm people. Maddy was always the first to volunteer at their daughter Maya's school field trips, PTA meetings. Kevin was hard working, but everyone loved him. Who would do this? Maya lost both of her parents.”

Bridgett hands the woman a tissue. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. We read your statement you gave to the police and you said you were with them Saturday night, dinner, drinks; did you notice anyone suspicious when you were out?”

The woman sighs, staying silent.

“You know something you’re not telling us, Desiree. Talk to us.” Bridgett states.

“There’s a club that a friend of ours owns… it’s a swingers club. That’s where we were on Saturday. My husband and I went along with them and our partners got traded. I’m not sure the name of the man that Maddy ended up with but Kevin never lets her go alone.”

“So it’s a threesome?” Derek asks.

“Not always. Sometimes Kevin would watch while Maddy… you know.”

“How many times have you been there?” Bridgett questions.

“The four of us together… six or seven times. I think Maddy and Kevin went more frequently.”

“We’re going to need the name of the club, as well as the partners you and your husband had.”

***

“So all the victims went to the same swingers club. Club Encounters.” JJ says.

“They had to have met the unsub at the club. And had sex with him.” Rossi adds.

“Or let him watch.” Spencer says, writing something on the board in front of him.

“We need to get in the club. It’s Friday night so it’s most likely going to be packed.” Bridgett suggests.

“She’s right. Bridgett you and Morgan get dressed, you’ll be going undercover as a couple to get into the club.”

Bridgett looks over at Derek, suppressing a smile and raising her eyebrow at him. Spencer spins around quickly, not looking thrilled with Hotch’s plan. Bridgett makes eye contact with her boyfriend across from her and gives him a “calm down” look.

“Sir? We’ll be going undercover as a couple?” Bridgett questions.

“Married couple. Get back to the hotel and get ready. Be back here by 8pm. Everyone else, work on calling the names of the partners and asking them if they know anything.” Hotch leaves the room, leaving the rest of the team smirking at Derek and Bridgett.

“Let’s head back to get ready for our night out, Mrs. Morgan.” Derek jokes before walking out.

Bridgett bites her bottom lip to prevent herself from smiling at his joke. Spencer pouts at Derek as he passes by, Derek paying him no mind. Bridgett gets up from her seat, grabbing her stuff and following Derek.

“Could I come with you guys… back to the hotel? There’s something I need to grab.” Spencer says, running to catch up with them.

“Yeah, come on pretty boy.”

***

“Come on, mama! You have like 10 more minutes before we have to leave.” Derek calls out from the other side of the door.

“Okay give me like 2 more minutes!” She responds, fluffing her hair up again.

Derek sits on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. Spencer was on the other side of the room, still not liking the arrangement that was going on. Derek scoffs out a laugh at Spencer’s visible pout on his face, looking like a child who was told they couldn’t get a second piece of cake for dessert.

“What’s on your mind, kid?” Derek asks, breaking the silence in the room.

“Hmm, nothing. Just uhh, thinking about the case.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying right?”

The bathroom door opens up, Bridgett stepping out in a sexy tight white dress, the dress ending mid thigh ,and baby pink high heels. Spencer bites his lip, taking in the beauty that is his girlfriend. Derek’s eyes scanned his coworker’s body, shocked that she looked sexy as hell.

“I need help tying my dress.” Bridgett says, turning around and moving her hair to the side. Her entire back was exposed, both the men could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, which drove Spencer up the wall.

Derek looks over at Spencer, motioning him to Bridgett. Spencer clears his throat, walking over to her and tying the little strings together on her dress up for her. Bridgett turns around and smiles, fixing her hair to flow down her back, completely oblivious to the gawking stares both of them were giving her.

“Well, what do you think?” She asks, smiling at both men, doing a spin.

“I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but god damn you look good.” Derek gawks, making Bridgett’s cheeks get hot.

Spencer shoots him a dirty look, wrapping his arm around Bridgett, and giving her forehead a kiss.

Derek stands up, grinning. “I’ll give you two lovebirds a minute. But you need to be downstairs in less than 5 minutes.”

“Yes sir.” Bridgett replies, giving him a sarcastic salute.

Spencer rolls his eyes, tilting Bridgett’s chin up toward him and forcefully kissing her after Derek walks out of the room. Bridgett moans against him, tangling her fingers in his hair immediately. Her free hand slides up his chest wrapping her hand around his tie and pulling him close. Spencer pulls the end of her dress up over her butt, exposing her skimpy underwear. He pulls back from the kiss, looking down at her practically see through white panties.

“Is someone jealous that Derek and I are playing a couple?” Bridgett teases, nipping at his jaw.

Spencer slips his finger under the elastic of her panties and lightly circles the wet bud between her legs. Bridgett grips his arm, moaning loudly.

“You’re coming back to me, tonight, Bridgett. And in this outfit, you understand me?” He speaks in a deep voice, not breaking eye contact with her.

“Y-yes sir.” She mutters, trying to keep her composure. Spencer draws his fingers back out, coating his lips with her wetness as he licks his fingers clean. Bridgett presses her lips against his, tasting herself on his plump lips.

“Let’s go before Derek comes back up here.” He says, biting the side of her neck roughly. Bridgett yelps, laughing, massaging the area.

“I like jealous Spencer.” She states, fixing her dress and grabbing her clutch.

“Hey,” Spencer calls, pulling her toward him. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And, don’t worry, Derek and I aren’t going to do ‘swinger’ stuff, alright. We’re just trying to catch the unsub.”

“Yeah, I know.” Spencer says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, giving her a small forced smile.

Bridgett strokes his cheek softly, looking at his brown eyes. “Come on, my love.” She says, pulling his arm out of his pocket and holding it in hers as they walk out of the room.

***

“Can you hear us?” Hotch asks through the earpiece in Bridgett’s ear hidden by her hair.

“Yes, sir.” Bridgett replies, walking arm and arm with Derek through the busy club. There were people dancing together on the dance floor, grinding against each other and making out. “I’m not trying to judge, but I can’t imagine sharing my significant other. I’m not good at sharing. I failed that part of kindergarten.” Bridgett jokes.

“You just have to pretend to share me, pretty girl.” Derek says. They both sit at the bar, sipping the fake cocktails they ordered. Derek wraps his arm around Bridgett’s waist, pulling her close to him.

Bridgett stiffens up around his grasp, her eyes flying over to him and growing wide.

“Hey mama, you gotta relax. I know you’re nervous, you haven’t done a lot of undercover stuff, but you gotta loosen up. We’re playing the part.”

Bridgett nods her head, resting her hand on his thigh, kissing his cheek. Derek nuzzles his head in her neck. It felt so weird cuddling up to a different man, and her boyfriend’s best friend nonetheless. As they were “fake” flirting, Bridgett’s eyes scan the room, fixating on a man that was staring them down.

“Derek, blonde man in a blue jean jacket in the left corner, black rimmed glasses.”

Derek picks his head up nonchalantly, turning it slowly toward the left corner of the club. Derek eyes him, studying his face and his body language. The man was definitely checking the two of them out.

“You see the scratch marks on the side of his neck?” Derek says in her ear.

Bridgett nods her head. “Carolina Doane had DNA under her fingernails, but they couldn’t identify it. Come here.” Bridgett takes Derek’s hand, leading him through the crowd over to the man. He takes a swig of his drink, eyeing the couple.

“Hey. Saw you checking us out from across the room. You like what you see?” Bridgett asks.

“Have a seat.” The man offers the chair across from him. Derek sits down first, Bridgett sitting on his lap. Derek snakes his arm around the front of her waist, keeping her in place.

“What’s your name, handsome?” Bridgett asks him.

“Connor Campbell. And you two?”

“I’m Isabelle, and this is my husband, Danny.”

“What are you looking for?” The man asks, taking another drink from the glass in his hand.

“Well to tell you the truth it’s our first time here. We’re new to the swinging game. But I think I want double the fun.” Bridgett replies, “I don’t like to share but I like to be shared.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

“You come with anyone?” Derek asks.

“No. I came here alone. Easier for people to approach me. You want to head out of here? I have somewhere we can go.”

“Go with him. But try to keep him from going home. Garcia searched his name and we have units at his house searching for evidence. Try to stall.” Hotch’s voice rings from her ear.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Bridgett says, standing up off Derek’s lap.

As the three of them headed out of the club, the potential unsub was getting handsy behind Bridgett as they made their way through the crowd, touching on her ass and hips. Once they made it outside together Bridgett walked in the middle of the two men. Clinging onto Connor’s arm and touching his chest, trying to make it look like she was interested in him.

“You’re an eager little one aren’t you?” Connor moans, slapping her ass. Bridgett bites her tongue to hide the disgust on her face.

“Yeah, it’s what I love about her. She’s very eager to please.” Derek replies, giving her hand a comforting squeeze, he could tell she was uncomfortable.

“Why don’t we get the party started in the car? I’m kinda into the voyeurism thing.” Bridgett says, slipping her hand under his shirt.

“You good with that, man? With me touching your wife in front of you?” He turns his head to Derek waiting for permission, even though he was already touching both sides of her hips.

Bridgett gives Derek a nod subtly, letting him know it was okay.

“She’s all yours. You be a good girl and listen to him, got it?” Derek says, playing into this role too well.

She shoots Derek a nervous look behind Connor’s shoulder before he turns back around, Bridgett faking a smile at the man as he begins to touch her inner thigh, breathing heavily against her neck. He reeked of disgusting musty cologne, cigarettes, and the whisky he was drinking inside. She was going to need a bleach bath after this was over.

“How much pleasure can you really get from your husband since you want to be shared?” He whispers to her, groping her breasts.

“And you think you can please me?” Bridgett asks.

“You’ve never wondered what it’s like to be with someone who can give you all the pleasure in the world, sweetheart?”

Gag.

“We got him. He’s the unsub. Take him down, we’re on our way.” Hotch says in the earpiece.

“FBI, step away from her and put your hands up.” Derek says, drawing the gun on him.

Connor grabs Bridgett by the throat, pushing her against the brick building behind her. Her head bounces against the wall at the force he grabs her. Bridgett sinks her nails into his face, scratching him and attempting to push him off of her. His grip tightens around her windpipe as they struggle with each other, making her cough and gasp for air. Derek grabs Connor by his shirt collar, throwing him to the ground. As Connor’s hand drops from her neck, Bridgett loses her balance from the heels and falls to the ground, still choking and coughing. She watches Derek get on top of him and handcuff him.

“You good?” Derek asks, motioning over to her.

“Fine.” She chokes out, her voice sounding hoarse, still coughing deeply.

Two black SUVs pull up on the sidewalk next to them, the red and blue lights flashing, the team running out to help Derek and Bridgett.

“Are you okay?” JJ asks, helping Bridgett up off the ground.

“My head.” She moans out.

JJ turns her head, touching the spot that was sore on her scalp. Bridgett winces and whines at the stinging on her head.

“You’re bleeding. We’ll call you to a medic.” JJ walks with her to the car, placing her in it while she speaks over the walkie for an ambulance. Bridgett shivered at the cold breeze from the wind and the blasting car AC.

“Here, sweetheart.” Kate takes the coat in her hand and wraps it around Bridgett’s shoulders. She has a towel in her hand as well and gently applies pressure to the back of her head.

“Thank you. Where’s Spence?”

“He’s with Derek, he’ll be here in a second. You did a good job catching the unsub, Bridgett. When the police got to his house there was another couple there, they were tied up and had been there for 2 days. They said he was torturing them and told them after tonight they’re agony would be over.”

Spencer walks up to Bridgett, his face softening once he sees her. “Hi, babe.” He says softly, bringing her in for a tight hug.

Bridgett nuzzles into his neck for comfort, relaxing against him. “Hi, baby.”

Spencer pulls away, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “The ambulance is here. Let’s get you checked out.” Spencer takes the towel from Kate, smiling at her and thanking her for taking care of Bridgett. Spencer guides her to the ambulance, letting the man take a look at the wound on the back of her head. He stayed by her side the whole time, holding her hand as they cleaned up the bit of blood on her head which stung more than anything.

“Do you have someone that can stay with you to make sure you don’t develop a concussion?” The paramedic asks.

“Yeah, she’s staying with me.” Spencer replies.

“Okay good. I’ll give you a list of questions you need to ask her every hour. If she starts to slur her words, throws up, has a seizure you need to bring her into the hospital. Keep ice on your head, avoid sleep for the next 6-8 hours.”

“Got it.” Bridgett mutters, keeping the ice pack he gave her on her head.

***

“I’ll make us some coffee since we’re not sleeping until tomorrow.” Spencer says, helping Bridgett sit on the bed.

“I need a shower. Desperately. I can still feel his disgusting hands on my skin.” Bridgett slips the heels off her feet, rolling her ankles around. Without asking, Spencer unzips her dress for her, sitting next to her.

“I gotta ask you the questions before you shower.” He says, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket.

“Spence, no you don’t. I’m fine.” Bridgett replies, taking her arms out of the sleeves of her dress, shimmying out of the dress the rest of the way, leaving her in only her panties.

Spencer’s eyes grow wide, his pupils dilating at the sight of his half naked girlfriend. He clears his throat, looking back at the paper. “What’s your name?”

Bridgett sighs, rolling her eyes and walking toward the bathroom. “Bridgett Rhonda Mendez.” She calls from the shower, turning the water on.

“How old are you?” Spencer’s voice seems closer. She pokes her head out from behind the curtain, chucking at him leaning against the sink. She draws the curtain back, fully on display and wet. Spencer sits in the closed toilet seat, trying not to look at her.

“I’m 27.”

“Do you know where you are right now?”

“In the shower. Waiting for my boyfriend to join me. He told me that I was coming back to him when the night was over.”

Spencer licks his lips, looking back at the paper. “Umm, what day of the week is it, today’s date, and the month?”

“Friday September 16th. Are we done?” Bridgett asks, slowly lathering the body soap all over her torso.

Spencer watches her for a few seconds, contemplating taking his clothes off and joining her.

Emily had a good point, Spencer had an IQ of 178, but a woman walks by, or in this case is sudsy in front of him, it drops down to 60.

Spencer looks down at the paper in his hand, he knew what was written on it, but he needed to look away from his girlfriend. “What happened prior to you hitting your head?”

Bridgett turns the shower head off, grabbing the towel off the rack next to the tub and dries her wet body off. Spencer’s eyes not leaving her glistening body.

Get it together, Spencer. Fucking Christ.

“Campbell was trying to get me in the mood by talking creepy to me. Hotch said to take him down and Derek drew his gun on Campbell. Then he grabbed me by my throat and choked me out against the wall.” Bridgett looked into Spencer’s eyes the whole time she was summarizing her night, drying the “fun” parts of her body off.

“You’re good… no concussion.” Spencer mutters, stuffing the piece of paper back in his pocket.

Bridgett leans up to kiss Spencer, making sure to press against him a little extra. “Do I get anything… special for answering all my questions right?”

He swears he feels his whole body jump at the feeling of her hot, silky smooth skin pressed up fully against him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well… I got a bump on my head and even though the paramedic did a good job with making sure I’m okay, I think I need a doctor’s opinion.” Bridgett whispers in his ear, nipping at the spot behind his ear. “I think I need a full body exam to make sure I’m okay and not broken.”

“Well, I’m not an actual medical doctor, Bridge.”

Bridgett laughs at the fact that her attempt at being sexy went right over his head, just like every other time. At this point he should know all of her sexual advances. She presses her forehead against his shoulder for a second, trying not to make him feel bad for laughing.

“Spencer, I know. I’m trying to tell you to fuck me without actually saying the words.”

“Oh, right. Well, let’s give you that examination.”

***

“Okay, what’s your next question?” Bridgett asks, grabbing a handful of popcorn and taking a few bites.

“Have you given thought to us moving in together?” Spencer asks.

Bridgett’s eyes grow wide, Spencer took the game to a whole new level with his question. First they were just asking random questions that Bridgett found online like, “Have you ever practiced kissing in a mirror?” To which Bridgett learned that Spencer had. Now he was getting deep.

“The thought has crossed my mind a few times.” Bridgett replies with a smile. “Same question to you.”

“You said we couldn’t repeat questions!” Spencer says.

Bridgett playfully rolls her eyes, laughing to herself. “Okay, okay. In the next… 6 months do you see us living together?”

Spencer gives her a flat face, “You realize you asked me the same question in just different words?” He tosses an M&M at her, the candy hitting her chest and rolling down her cleavage. Spencer laughs, throwing his arms up in the air.

Bridgett airs her shirt out, the candy rolling out the bottom into the bed, she grabs it and pops it in her mouth.

“Really?”

“Really what? They’re my boobs! I know where they’ve been! And I showered! They’re clean! You’ve eaten things off my boobs before! Don’t avoid my question!” Bridgett says loudly.

“I would say less than 6 months.”

“Really? You want to wake up every morning to me, have to deal with me all the time? Always somewhere in the apartment everywhere you turn and look? Imagine all my hair ties all over the place. You’ve started a collection in a jar at my apartment because I keep losing them.”

Spencer nods his head, “We already spend all our time together outside the job, I wake up next to you all the time, and I love it. I think it makes sense for us to live together officially.”

“Okay, well my lease ends in the next few months. I won’t renew it when it’s over.” Bridgett smiles, leaning over their snack pile to give him a kiss.

The tone of the kiss turns quickly once Bridgett starts to move the snacks out of her way to get closer to Spencer.

“I have to ask you the concussion questions again.” He says quickly, still trying to recover from the sex they had less than 45 minutes ago.

Bridgett groans, rolling her eyes. “If I could answer the questions in the middle of us having sex, and I answered them right, I think my brain is fine.”

#Spencer Reid #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid smut fic #spencer reid series #spencer reid x oc character #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler fan fiction #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler fan fic #mgg #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds #part of you fic

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softholand · 3 years

Text

drunk words, sober thoughts - t.h

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: alcohol, swearing, sexual themes, lap dance, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, smut

word count: 4k

a/n: it’s here, my first ever smut, go easy on me, i’m fucking nervous!!!! i wanna thank @missevrythingg for helping me, i wouldn’t dave done it without you, i love you ray 💖 i really hope you guys enjoy!! i also made a playlist for this fic, it really sets the mood for it!! again, english in not my first language so there’s probably some mistakes/typos, just pretend you didn’t see it! ;) oh and please, do let me know what you guys think, it really helps! i love you all, happy reading! 💓

It had been a long time since Tom last saw you. Between his acting career and your college scholarship in Canada, you guys barely kept contact for the last year. That’s why, when you finally came back home, he decided to throw you a surprise birthday party.

Sam was responsible to bring you to the club Tom had rented for the night, with the excuse that the place had just opened and it was a success already. He told you to get dressed and since Tom’s car was already full of people, he offered you a drive, which you gladly accepted.

Music was blasting from the nightclub when Sam parked his car near the entrance of the building, making you even more excited to be celebrating your birthday with your childhood friends. It wasn’t until you stepped foot in the club and saw all your friends with a giant banner on top of their heads saying “Happy 21st Birthday, y/n!” that you realized the party was, in fact, for you.

Sam was the first to hug you and wish you a happy birthday, but from the corner of your eye, you saw Tom approaching you with a smirk the size of the place on his face, making you sure it was his idea.

“Surprise!” He whispered in your ear as soon as he wrapped his arms around you. “You little shit!” That was the only thing you could say upon realizing he was, in fact, the mastermind behind all of this.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s your 21st birthday, I had to!” Tom stated, making you roll your eyes. “No, you didn’t! But thank you!” You answered, giving your friend another hug.

The rest of the boys greeted you, all wishing you a happy birthday, which you thanked, hugging each one. Suddenly you saw Cara, one of your friends from high school that had unfortunately moved to Australia and you hadn’t seen her since.

“No, you didn’t!” You screamed, making direct eye contact with Tom. “I did it!” He stated, making your smile grow even wider. Without wasting time, you run to your friend, hugging her like she was going to disappear at any minute.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I missed you!” You said, smiling so much that your cheeks hurt. “I missed you too, y/n/n! And yeah, I couldn’t believe either when Tom Holland contacted me, wanting to bring me to England!” She said, making both of you laugh.

Once you had greeted all of your friends, Tom went to the stage with a microphone, shouting “It’s time to party!” at the top of his lungs, making everyone scream and celebrate. “Crazy In Love” started to play as soon as he left the stage and that was only the beginning. Tom knew your obsession with old pop, so throughout the night, he made sure the DJ played all your favorites.

Between the bar special drinks and tequila shots, you lost track of time and were now dancing “I’m A Slave 4 You” with your girlfriends. The song blasted from the speakers, the alcohol in your system making you lose control of your own body. Cara still remembered some of the choreography of the song, from when you two were kids and used to learn all of Britney Spears's music videos, and so practically obliged you to do it with her.

Tom, Harrison, Tuwaine, Harry, and Sam were sitting in one of the dark red booths at the back of the club, with beers in hands, watching as you and Cara gave a show to everyone present.

“When did y/n get so hot?” Harry was the first to point out, making his twin brother chuckle. “While she was in Canada, apparently!” Tuwaine shrugged, gulping the icy liquid in his hands.

“Tom, you better close your mouth, you’re going to catch flies!” Harrison teased his friend, earning him a deadly glare. “Fuck off!” Tom shoved him, before going back to admiring how your body moved perfectly to the music.

When the first notes of “I Love Rock ‘N’ Roll” started, your drunk body made its way into the stage, grabbing the microphone, ready to lip-sync another one of your favorites songs. Your friends all gathered at the front of the stage, screaming and encouraging you to keep going. You still remembered Britney’s classic performance and so, you tried your best to copy her movements, just like in the music video.

Screams filled the crowded space of the nightclub while you pretended to sing the song. Cara and another one of your friends joined you on the stage, pretending to be your back singers. The boys observed you while you played with the microphone cord, twisting it on your finger. What they didn’t expect was for you to get on your knees, continuing the, rather sexy, performance on the stage floor.

“Holy shit!” Harrison exclaimed, not drawing the attention of his friends, who were busy watching you. “Should we do something?” Asked Sam, clearly concerned by your, rather drunk, actions. “Yeah, get closer!” His twin brother answered, getting off the booth and making his way to the stage, quickly being followed by the others.

When your eyes caught Tom’s brown (and lusty) ones, you made a point of getting close and teasing him by playing with his hair, which made everyone else lose their minds over it. When the song ended, he helped you get out of the stage while your friends applauded, praising you for the performance.

“Need some help there, love?” Tom asked, securing you in his arms when your legs felt like jelly. “Nope! I’m goooood!” You answered, extending the o’s, completely out of your mind.

“I see! Maybe you should slow down the drinks?” You knew Tom was just trying to help you, but being in your embriagate state, you just shushed him, putting a finger on his lips. “I have a better idea, what if... we did more shots?” You shouted, getting out of his embrace and making your way to the bar.

A couple more hours had passed and unfortunately, the party was coming to an end. Some of your guests had already left, but the ones that stayed were left on the dancing floor, with not so much energy as before.

But everything changed when “Dance for You” by Beyonc�� started to play, you didn’t know how but a chair appeared in the middle of the dancing floor, completely out of nowhere. You immediately understood what whoever put that chair there wanted and if you haven’t before, your friends shouting “lap dance” had also made it very clear.

As intoxicated as you were, you knew exactly who you wanted on that chair. Seductively, you made your way to Tom, making grabby hands once you were in front of him. The screams only increased when he accepted your invitation without so much of a protest.

Making your way to the chair, you made Tom sit, going around it and putting your hands on his shoulders. To be completely honest, you had no idea what you were even doing. You never gave a lap dance before, so this was new territory for you. But your friend's screams and Tom’s lusty eyes gave you all the encouragement you needed.

Your hands explored every inch of his body, through his chest, abs, neck, shoulders, what your hands could reach, you were touching, always making sure to get close to his ear and tease him as best as you could.

You used the music to your advantage, moving your body to the beats, making sure to emphasize your hips. When you finally sat on his lap, it was like the end of a war, everyone was celebrating, screams and whistles could be heard even with the loud music.

Tom didn’t know what to do, he just awkwardly sat there, with his hands by his sides, dying to touch you. His wishes came true when you finally took his hands, putting them on your waist, where they stayed glued to your body. You continued your performance, grinding, swirling, doing all the things you knew about lap dance and by Tom’s reactions, you seemed to be doing a really good job. His eyes were on your body all the time but they seemed different, now dark shades of brown, almost black, covered his once hazel irises.

The song was, unfortunately, coming to an end, and to finish your show, you properly took a seat in Tom’s lap, straddling his waist, and this time, you could feel how much he was enjoying your performance. With the position, your already revealing dress left nothing to the imagination, and locking your eyes with his, you saw nothing but lust and desire, very different things that you used to see in your friend's stare.

You leaned in and he did too, and once your faces were only millimeters away, you suddenly lost all the courage on your body and pulled away, burying your face into his neck instead. Next thing you know, you were being helped into Tom’s car while your friends discussed where you were gonna spend the night.

“I can’t bring her home like that, her parents are going to kill me!” You heard Tom say. “Well, let’s take her to our place then! We can send them a text saying she’s staying with us.” Sam offered and the rest of the group seemed to agree since you didn’t hear any more discussion.

You must have blacked out again because suddenly you were being put in a bed. “Where am I?” You asked, feeling your throat dry. “You’re at my house, darling! It’s okay, you can sleep now!” You heard Tom’s voice but couldn’t find him with your blurred vision. “No, I don’t wanna sleep!” You protested, sounding like a three-year-old, which Tom chuckled.

“What do you wanna do then?” He pushed, and you felt a weight on the bed. “I can think of some things…” You whispered, passing your fingers through his shirt, feeling his hard abs underneath your palms. “y/n, you’re drunk!” Tom tried warning, earning him a scoff. “You are too!” You mocked, really sounding like a child now.

“Yeah, and that’s why we’re not gonna do anything that we may regret tomorrow.” He said, taking your hand in his. “Nooo, I want you!” At this stage, your mouth had a mind of its own because you couldn’t even process the things you were saying and that was one of them.

“I’m sorry, darling! We can talk about this tomorrow when we’re both sober. Okay?” Tom was trying. He was trying so hard to not give in to your pressure, you were practically begging him to sleep with you. But no, he couldn’t. You were both drunk and this type of decision shouldn’t be made under the influence of alcohol.

“You’re no fun!” You complained, earning another chuckle from him. “Yeah, yeah! You’re gonna thank me tomorrow!” He told you and once you didn’t respond anymore, he realized that you had fallen asleep.

He then took off your shoes, your makeup with one of his spare makeup remover wipes and exchanged your dress for one of his old shirts, making you the most comfortable he possibly could, since he knew you were going to have a pretty bad hangover the next day.

Oh, the next day. You woke up feeling like the whole world was spinning, you felt nauseous, your head was pounding and you smelled like alcohol. Opening your eyes, you saw a bottle of water and some painkillers by your side, which you were quick to chug all down.

“Good morning, birthday girl!” Harrison’s voice was like a hammer to your already sore head. “Please, don’t! I’m dying!” You pleaded, laying down again.

“Oh, c’mon! Wore yourself out yesterday?” Harry’s voice came out of nowhere, but you were too tired to further investigate. “How bad was it?” You asked, actually scared of the answer.

“You know… the normal! You drank, danced, drank more, did a lip sync of a Britney Spears song, drank some more…” Harrison started to point out, making you groan and hide your face in the covers.

“Wait, wait, wait! I’m in Tom’s bed, wearing only one of his shirts… Does that mean we…?” you inquired, making the boys loudly groan. “y/n, c’mon! No, he slept on the couch!” Harry grunted, making a disgusted face.

“But you gave him a lap dance!” Sam’s voice startled you, making you jump on the bed.

“I did what?!!!!!!” You shouted, making the pounding in your head even worse. “I knew you weren’t going to remember so I recorded everything.” Harrison’s passed you his phone.

And just like he said, there you were, in Tom’s lap, with your tits practically in his mouth, while you danced and swirled your hips to a Beyoncé song. “No, no, no, no! Why did you guys let me do that?” You asked, completely perplexed with your actions.

“Well, you seemed to be enjoying it and it was your birthday party, we didn’t want to ruin your day,” Harry said, which earned him a death glare. “But my day is ruined! How am I supposed to face Tom now?!” You questioned, looking dumbfounded at your friends.

“Well, you better think about something because our families planned a brunch in a couple of hours,” Sam told you, matter of factly, making you loudly groan and slide even further under the covers.

Half an hour later, you were forced by your friends to get up, take a shower and get ready for brunch, since there was no way your parents would let you miss it, it was your birthday after all. With a simple summer dress, that you had laying around at the boy's place and sunglasses that were the size of your head, you made your way downstairs, where they were already waiting for you.

“Good morning!” Tuwaine’s deep voice startled you from his place on the couch, next to Tom, who you completely ignored. “Please, don’t!” You protested, feeling a hammer in your head every time you took a step.

Quickly, you made your way to the garage, not wanting to face Tom in any circumstances. Once he and the twins got into his car, Tom made his way to the restaurant where your families were already waiting.

To say the brunch was a complete disaster was an understatement. You were practically a zombie, the food at your plate made you want to throw up and the pain in your head was not ceasing. You could see Tom sneaking glances, trying to talk to you, but you looked away and dismissed him every time, you were just too embarrassed to even look at him.

When the torture was finally over, your parents asked if you wanted to come back home but you decided to stay with the boys, since you knew you had to talk to Tom at some point. The ride back was silent, only the sound of the radio could be heard and to be honest, the tension was starting to get you. Once Tom parked the car in front of the house, you and the twins were getting out when he stopped you.

“You can go ahead, I want to show y/n a place.” He said and you immediately looked at him with your brows raised, having no idea what he was talking about, but praying it didn’t have anything to do with last night's events.

Once the twins were out, you got into the passenger seat and Tom drove away, not even saying a word to you. The drive was short and just a couple of minutes after, he was pulling into an empty parking lot. Turning off the car, he put one of his arms behind the passenger seat, facing you completely.

“Oh, that’s it?” You asked, clearly confused with what was going on. “There wasn’t a place, y/n! I just wanted for us to be alone so we could talk.” Tom stated.

“Tom, let’s not…” You tried to brush off the conversation but he wasn’t having. “Yes, y/n! What’s going on? Why are you avoiding me?”

“Please, Tom! Don’t pretend nothing happened last night!” You rolled your eyes, still avoiding his gaze. “I’m not the one pretending here! You won’t even look me in the eye!” He huffed, getting tired of your behavior.

“I’m ashamed, okay?!!!” You screamed, losing your inner battle and finally looking at him. “God, the things I did to you last night were… awful!” You said, quickly averting his gaze.

“I wouldn’t use that word!” Tom smirked, making you roll your eyes and cross your arms. “Seriously, y/n! It’s not that serious!”

“It is to me, Tom! I’m not used to stuff like that!” You told him, getting tired of the conversation. “Well, it’s not like I haven’t thought about you like that!” The boy tells you.

“You what?” Looking back at him, you could see a giant smirk plastered on his face. “Oh, c’mon y/n! Don’t tell me you never thought about it?” Tom inquired, making you suddenly nervous.

“What? No! I mean… yeah, you’re… you’re hot but… no! Never like... that!” You tried your best to keep your voice steady and not give in to him but your stuttering made it clear you were failing.

“Really? That’s a shame! Because you looked stunning sitting on my lap last night. Made me think about so many things to do to you.” He whispered, very close to your ear, making you squirm on your sit.

“Tom…” You moaned, feeling his hot palm on your thigh. “What is it, y/n?” Tom asked, looking at you with eyes full of lust and desire, all for you. “Kiss me!” You begged and in seconds, his lips were on yours.

You were lying before, of course, you had already thought about Tom in more… sexual ways. The boy was practically a greek god, there was no way you couldn’t notice how his perfect six-pack showed even underneath his stupidity tight T-shirts. But nothing in this world could prepare you for the overwhelming sensation you felt when you kissed. It was like a fire ignited inside of your body and only he could help make it stop.

When the kisses weren't enough anymore, you tried to get into his lap, but the positions you were in prevented you from that. “Backseat?” He asked, breathing heavily. “Yes!” You desperately nodded.

In quick but awkward movements, you and Tom made your way to the backseat and he didn’t lose time by putting you in his lap, encouraging you to grind on his already hard bulge. “You’re so hot!” He breathed between kisses, making you grind even harder.

“Tom…” You moaned, putting one of your hands on his pants, teasing his still clothed cock, while the other stayed on his broad shoulders, steadying yourself. Moans filled the car once Tom put one of his hands on your core, already dripping wet. “God, look at you!” He praised, biting your bottom lip.

“Tom, please…” You pleaded, moving your hips faster, trying to get some relief. “What do you want, darling?” He murmured, putting your underwear to the side, coating his fingers with your slickness. “Fuck!” You cried out, begging him to keep touching you.

“It’s okay, I’m gonna take care of you!” Tom increased his movements and in seconds you were a mess on top of him, moans mixed with curse words left your mouth, making him even more eager for you. “Tom!” You moaned, taking his hand off of you when you were on the edge of your high, making him raise his brows.

“I wanna cum with you!” You whispered and at that moment, Tom felt completely intoxicated with you. Smirking, he fished a condom from his wallet, before taking his pants and boxers off. You wrapped your hand around his shaft, spreading his precum, feeling him twitch only with your touch.

Teasingly, you took the package out of his hands and opened it with your teeth, before sliding the latex material on his cock. “You know we don’t have to, right? I mean, I want to but if you don’t, that’s okay!” Tom let you know, and the look in his eyes told you he was telling nothing but the truth. “I know! But I want to!” You stated, making him smile before colliding his lips on yours.

One of Tom’s hands goes to your hip to guide you onto him as you hold your underwear to the side. Moans fill the car as you sink onto him, both of you at a loss of words with this new overwhelming sensation. “So fucking good!” You gasp, as Tom starts to help you move your hips up and down, increasing the speed with each move.

It doesn’t take long for you to be reaching your high but this time Tom will not let you escape. He presses one of his slender fingers on your clit, doing circular motions that drive you insane. “Tom, don’t stop… oh, fuck!” Your walls clench around him, as you feel your orgasm washing over in waves of pleasure.

“You good?” He asks with a cocky smirk after a few minutes of your racked breaths, making you want to slap it out of his face. “Not bad!” You tease him, quickly regretting your choice of words when he starts pounding into you with no mercy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You cried, closing your eyes with the amount of pleasure he’s giving you.

“What is it, darling? I can’t hear you!” It’s his turn to tease you and after a few minutes, you’re left moaning out his name again, like it’s the most blessed praying in the world. “y/n, fuck!” With the feeling of your body convulsing on top of him, Tom loses the battle and as he screams your name, you can feel his cock twitch inside of you, making you clench around him.

With heavy breaths and sore bodies, you and Tom stay glued to one another, in silence, enjoying the post-sex feeling. “God, we should have done this a long time ago!” Tom smirks, making you chuckle. “Absolutely!” You laugh, leaving a kiss on his swollen lips.

Once you two had cleaned up and Tom got rid of the used condom, he invited you for ice cream, and, to be honest, how could you deny it? The place he took you was like a unicorn dream, the walls were pink with colorful sprinkles painted on it. After you were both seated on a rainbow table, a waitress came offering you a smile, before taking your orders, chocolate fudge for you, vanilla bean for Tom.

“So…” He said, trying to start a conversation. “So…” You copied him, feeling suddenly aware of what you two had done. “I’m… you know what? I’m just gonna ask it! What we did before was just… sex for you?” Tom blurted out, making your whole body fill with anxiety.

“Oh, I… I don’t know. I mean, I was... hoping not?” You answered, using the courage still left on your body. “Yeah?” He smiled, seemingly relaxed with your choice of words. “Me too!” He completed, taking one of his hands in yours.

You smiled, feeling completely enamored with the boy sitting in front of you. Leaning in, you kissed his lips, sweetly and slowly, feeling his smile grow between the kisses. Once you were done with the ice cream, he took you to the park, where you stayed until sunset, holding hands, stealing kisses, and watching adorable old couples doing the same things you were doing, even after all the years together.

“So… did you enjoy your birthday?” Tom asked, as soon as you took a seat on the freshly cut grass in front of a beautiful lake with a couple of swans peacefully swimming. Smiling, you leaned in, placing a kiss on his lips, before answering. “It was the best!”

tagging some mutuals: @definitely-not-black-cat @stuckonspidey @bi-writes @missnxthingg @peeterparkr @tomhollandthing @wazzupmrstark @screamholland @fallinfortom @duskholland

#my writing #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland writing

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trulymadlysydney · 3 years

Note

1/ ok long anon :) back longer than ever ! because was there one time Harry was seen at like a western bar? or a bar that had a mechanical bull and he rode it ?? Then left with a girl? did that actually happen am I making that up? Anyways Harry’s in the middle of his American tour and has a 3 day break before his next show on Friday. And let’s pretend he’s somewhere around Nashville, or down further south near Dallas or Houston, or maybe west near Phoenix, or could be up in Boston, anyways point is, it’s Tuesday night and Harry just wants to find a place to have a beer at an actual bar with his band and some of the crew, and hopefully not be center of attention for a moment. And the bar he manages to make his way into isn’t packed whatsoever, but still has a nice crowd of what seems to be older locals, there for open mic night/karaoke. He and the band manage to make their way in to go sit at a booth tucked away and if any of the patrons do spare a look at him, it’s not really at him, but more so at his funky multicolored cardigan. And Harry’s having a great time just being able to be out drinking and having a good time with his friends, just laughing over stories told, pausing to listen to whoever is up at the mic if they catch his ear. Harry suggests another round of drinks, and he walks up to where you’re behind bar in a pair of Levi’s shorts, head turned away as you’re filling up a glass from the tap, and as if you could sense someone there behind you, you’re already saying “I’ll be with you in a second” without even turning around. And when you hear a “take your time” in an accent that’s definitely not from one of your usual crowd, you quickly look over your shoulder and just as quickly turn back to the tap because holy shit…it’s actually Harry Styles at this bar of all places. And as you turn to take the drink you poured to the patron at the corner of the bar, Harry gets an actual look at you and thinks to himself oh wow…she’s pretty. Really, really pretty even in this low lighting. And as you slide your way back over to him, you ask “what can I get you?” in the most calm cool collected way you can manage. And maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s because he’s naturally a menace, but Harry says “your name” with a slight grin. And you won’t lie, hearing that from Harry Styles did make your heart start pumping faster, and a smirk starts to make its way to your mouth that Harry catches, but is shaken away as you roll your eyes because men really are the same no matter who they are and you respond “it’s y/n. Now seriously, what can I get you? They don’t look it, but this crowd can get rowdy if they don’t get their drinks in time even if I tell them that it was a young big shot rock star decided to hold up the line” And there it is. The little weight that settled on your shoulders for a second lifted because you know that he knows and he knows that you know who he is. But you also can’t help but notice the little bit of hurt that crossed Harry’s face when you responded. And Harry, he’s a little taken back by your sharp response, mouth dropped, but not so much shocked that you know who he is (he’s not conceited just knows how relevant/big he is). And he doesn’t know what it is whether it’s the fact that you’re so pretty, or the fact you tried to play it cool (the shocked-knowing glance you made at him when you thought he didn’t notice turns out was noticed) the alcohol, or the slight bite in your response, but he turns to look back at the booth with his friends and notices that they’re so deep into conversations and laughs and (some even dancing with some of the older patrons) honestly, haven’t noticed that Harry’s been gone for a moment. He looks back to you and says “Y/N” (that rolls nice off his lips), “I’m sorry, I’ll have one of whatever is on tap.” And you nod as you turn to pour his drink while Harry decides to settle in and take a seat at the bar. And when you place his drink on the table, he goes “Seriously, I’m sorry if I offended you or made you uncomfortable in anyway.”

2/ And you notice how genuine he sounds right now, and you were neither offended or uncomfortable, just more shocked that Harry Styles is asking for your name. You tell him “it’s fine, really, just wasn’t expecting /that/ from you. Anyways, what managed to bring you all the way over here?” And that’s how you two started talking about everything really even as you excused yourself to fill orders, the conversation was easily jumped back into. Harry told you of how he’s been on tour and just needed to feel like a person and you told him about yourself. How you took up bartending because you’re starting grad school in the fall and little stories about the old timey crowd that like to inhabit this place. Like how behind the dingy curtain on the little stage, there’s actually a mechanical bull that is hardly ever used now because too many drunk old people nearly breaking a hip trying to live out their Wild Wild West fantasy. And you both don’t really notice, but as the conversation has gone on, he’s leaned more across the bar as you’ve leaned closer to him as well. Harry’s noticing how your eyes crinkle when you laugh and the mole on your forearm as you stretch to hand people their drinks. And your beautiful doesn’t go missed by the kind elderly guests who he can hear make comments on how “you get prettier every time I see you y/n” And you’re really smart. When you told him what you’re going to grad school for, and what you’re researching, Harry was reminded how he stopped going to school at 16. And you’re noticing how easy he is to talk to. Surprisingly easy and despite being a huge celebrity, he’s really down to earth, still cocky but charming. He’s also so handsome, strikingly so, especially this close. Anyways, the night has gone on, more of the crowd turning in for the night, and you’re now around the bar, sitting on the stool next to Harry, knees occasionally knocking against each other, still talking. At some point you’re both broken out of whatever trance you’re both under by each other by one of Harry’s friends coming over to tell him that they’re all leaving and you think sadly to yourself that this weird, unexpected, encounter has come to an end. But when you see that Harry hasn’t gotten up from his stool, and he tell them that’s going to stay back and he’ll get a ride back later, something lights up in your belly. As they all wave back at him you send a wave off as well and Harry turns back to you and says “Is that okay with you? I’m honestly having a really great time talking with you.” And you swear steam could come out of your ears and your face is probably beet red right now as a high pitch “no, that’s fine, I’m really having a great time too. But I am going to have to start closing up now, so if you do want to leave…” and Harry is all “oh….well is it okay if I stay as you close up, give you some extra company? I promise I’ll stay out of your way, or I could help, you know?” And he adds with a smile, “Whatever I can do that’ll make you want me to stay, lovely” And that last part makes you smitten really as you nod okay to him. So the bar is now closed, and you’ve been going through your usual closing routine (it’s just you that night since it was Tuesday) and you just can’t believe Harry Styles is here helping you sweep and flip chairs onto tables (“I can help some. I used to be a baker you know?”) And you’ve plugged your phone into the speaker to play your Spotify as you clean and when you hear the opening of Canyon Moon, a shock runs up your spine as you pause mid tabletop wipe down and your eyes move to meet Harry who has looked up mid sweep. And you’re blushing again and stammering an apology of “I am so sorry let me change it” as you rush to your phone to change it as Harry who has gone back to sweeping says “no I like this one” with a grin and looks back to you. And you’re a little relieved but still embarrassed biting your lip as you tell him “yeah i do too” with a returned grin.

3/ And you both go back to cleaning and talking, you’ve both ended up in one of the booths, Your feet brushing against each other under the table as you finish up looking over inventory sheets between asking Harry about his tattoos (his sleeves rolled up,holding his arm out on the table as you admire and you didn’t miss the flex of his hand when you brushed against the one of the holy Bible asking if the placement of the bookmark means anything particular). And at some point Harry looks towards the stage at one point and asks “is there really a bull behind there?” And you told him “yeah and that bull has a name, and it’s Stella by the way named after an actual cow the owner had on a farm as a kid” and now you’re pulling the curtain to reveal, the very intimidating mechanical bull that takes up most of the tiny stage. And Harry’s all “can I ride it?” And you’re all “are you sure? I mean it hasn’t been used in awhile besides my coworkers when we’re fucking around after closing sometimes.” And Harry’s like “yeah it looks like fun.” And that’s how he ended up, on top of the bull, shoes discarded and socked feet, holding on with one hand as the bull bucked and you laughed at first because of how ridiculous he looked, and he’s laughing along with you having the time of his life too, but oh…the way he’s practically grinding against the seat is making you have some really impure thoughts. And you shake your head a little as he’s finally lost his bearings and has fallen off onto the protective padding below laughing his head off. And jokingly you say “23 seconds. And here id thought you’d last longer.”

4/ And Harry catches your shot at his ego as he gains his composure, rising up to where you are at the controls to say “heyyy now. Bet you can’t do better.” And you’re a little insulted at his assumption because you mentioned earlier to him that you and the rest of the workers here will occasionally ride the bull after work for fun and you’d managed stay on the longest several times thanks to your highly strategized technique you’ve developed, as you scoff “oh please I know how to ride” and your eyes widen because you didn’t mean for your response to be that saucy, but Harry is already looking at you with that smirk and says “well, show me how you ride then” and you swallow and agree and after giving harry a rundown on the easy to use controls, you’re perched on the bull. With the bull facing the away, your starting with your back towards Harry, and he can’t help but to notice your ass in your shorts again as it’s slightly arched on the bull with your hand in the air. Once he actually starts up the bull, he realizes how right you were about knowing how to ride. And he didn’t think this was possible but you’ve managed to make this whole activity seem graceful? In the way that you’re going with the motions of the bull. Harry also can’t help but notice how sexy you look up on it too, he can’t help but let his himself imagine you riding him like how you are on the bull right now. You rocking rhythmically back and forth on the saddle. Harry’s glad that he’s behind the controls right now as he reaches to his pants to discreetly adjust himself because he’s getting hard. And your gleeful laughter snaps him out of his dirty thoughts as you make eye contact with him, and it’s a split second but oh did you just see him? adjust himself? Oh… and it breaks you from your concentration as you’re flung from the bull a little harsher than expected onto the padding below. And Harry has exclaimed your name as he has stepped his way into the padding of the bull pen rushing to you as you’re rolled onto your side catching your breath laughing a little because this is, just so crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy that Harry Styles has not only showed up to your bar, but he /likes/ talking to you, he called you lovely and now, he’s hard over you. And Harry is leaned over you, rolling you onto your back, concern on his face, and asking “are you okay?” And you’re still trying to catch your breath as breathless laughs escape you as you tell him “yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

5/ And now you’re close, really close and really looking at each other as Harry goes to sweep some of your hair off your face. And you reach your hand up to softly brush against the bare skin of his tattooless arm. And you’re looking at Harry’s lips as he’s paused his ministrations in your hair looking down at you and smirks “you were right about knowing how to ride.” And a smile spreads across your face, and your eyes are doing that crinkled thing that Harry likes as you reply “oh, you think?” and your hand moves to tug on his collar, to bring him down to your face as you kiss him.

Anndddddd that’s all I’ve got lol.

---------

BESTIE....... BESTIE OH MY GOD HELLO??? IM SPEECHLESS IM... OMFG HIM BEING A LITTLE NERVOUS? YOU BOTH BEING SO EXCITED TO HANG OUT AFTER HOURS, AND THE REALIZATION THAT LIKE... OH FUCK HE’S ACTUALLY KIND OF INTO YOU... OH MY GOD

#long anon my beloved #harry chats

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purefrostbyte · 4 years

Text

Aizawa - You Deserve Happiness Too Sensei (Part 2)

Part 1:

Aizawa

Rating: Smut

Part 2

You Deserve Happiness Too Sensei

After 5 minutes of self-doubt and 3 shots of vodka later, Aizawa finally had the confidence to come up to you. You were currently sitting alone at a table watching you best friends socialize, Aizawa saw his chance. He walked over, choosing to go around the room instead of through the mob of people.

“Weren’t you the one telling me to enjoy myself?” You jumped, you had assumed after Yamada that he was done talking with you. A smile crossed your face when you saw it was Aizawa, “I am enjoying myself Sensei, I just needed to sit down for a while.” Aizawa chuckled, the way you slipped up and called him Sensei was adorable and arousing to him. “Well then do you mind if I accompany you?” he asked and you nodded happily.

He sat next to you, the two of you making pleasant conversation as the night progressed. You had seen the all-knowing smirk that Miruko gave you when she saw the two of you together, and had opted to leave you with him for the rest of the night, literally.

“Hey Eraser,” you both turned your head to see you best friend, dressed in a stunning silver dress standing by the foot of your table. “Hello Miruko,” Aizawa greeted as the bunny heroin hatched her plan. “Look I need to go, and generally Y/n and I make sure the other gets home safe. Could you be a gentleman and escort her home for me?” Miruko smirked when your face went red, “Rumi I’m not drunk, I can make it home by myself.” You huffed, more because you knew why she was asking. Miruko waved you off, “We had drinks before we even got here, and I’m not taking the risk. Please Aizawa.”

Aizawa pretended to think it over before nodding, and Miruko smiled happily before leaving the party. Giving you a subtle wink before leaving. “You really don’t have to do this Aizawa,” you mumbled, but just like Usagiyama he waved you off. “I already said I would.” He answered before turning to you, “Or do you not want my company Y/n?” He smirked, noticing your thighs clench and body shake slightly from his words and tone. “No, it’s just…I don’t want to be a burden.”

Aizawa scoffed, “You couldn’t be a burden even if you tried, now come on. Let’s get you home.”

The drive in his car was pleasant, comfortable silence filled with soft lofi music. When you finally did reach your apartment, Aizawa insisted he walk you in too. “Thank for this,” you said bashfully, “It means a lot.” Aizawa gave you a rare and genuine smile, “No problem Y/n, though I do have a question I need to ask you.” He had started to walk towards you, and out of instinct you moved backwards until your back hit the back of the elevator. You gasped when he caged you in, clicking the button for your floor quickly before returning his attention to you.

You breathing hitched, thighs squeezed together as the man you had had a crush on all of high school leaned down towards your ear. “The whole night, whenever you are around me, you clench your thighs together…” His voice trailed off as he watched you face, expression turning your deer in headlights look. “Now I’m no expert but,” One of his hands trailed up your exposed thigh, “I’m pretty sure that means I’m turning you on Y/n.”

You gulped, biting your lip out of nervous habit. The action made Aizawa growl and you couldn’t help the shaky moan that slipped pass you lips. Aizawa smirked, “Do I turn you on Y/n?” he pressed his body against yours. “I...I,” you didn’t know what to say, your mind was racing. “Words Y/n,” his tone made your knees week, it was a tone he normally used in the classroom. You couldn’t help your response, “Yes Sensei.”

Aizawa growled before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You moaned at the contact, hand reaching up to run through his ebony locks. He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and you gladly opened, tongues dancing together in a way that made you almost collapse. The doors of the elevator dinged open and soon Aizawa had picked you, hands kneading your ass as he walked down the hall way. He didn’t know which was yours, but he wasn’t pulling away anytime soon.

You directed him by pulling his hair, you knew your apartment well you had lived here since you had moved out of your family home. He finally pulled away, both of your breathing heavy and labored. You quickly fished your key from your hand clutch and tried unlocking your door. Aizawa quickly unlocked it instead, he was normally a very patience person but the idea of getting to kiss you more made him extremely impatience. As soon as the door clicked shut your back was pressed against it as Aizawa pulled you into another heated open mouth kiss.

You pulled away when your lungs started to beg for air, panting with your head against the door exposing your neck to him. He quickly claimed small patches of flesh, biting and sucking at it in an attempt to leave his mark on you. You moaned softly, hands tugging and gripping at his hair. “Sensei,” You moaned and you were rewarded with a sinful groan from Aizawa, “Yes Y/n?” You mewled happily when he started grinding against you, wanting some type of friction for his growing erection. “Please Sensei, Please” You begged, not wanting to voice your full desires, “Please what? I’m not a mind reading darling, I need you to tell me.” His breath was hot against your ear,

“Please Sensei, Please make me feel good,” You punctuated your sentence by grinding back against him, and he was helpless to suppress the throaty groan he let out. “There’s my good girl,” he pulled you off the door, through your apartment to find your bedroom. When he did he lay you down gently on the bed before starting to undo his tie. The scene made your breath hitch, he was standing at the foot of your bed, tie undone and a dark lustful look in his eyes.

“Dress off,” he command and you happily obeyed, pulling down the zip at the back before shimming out of the silk garment. He growled at your matching black lace lingerie, as if you subconsciously knew he was gonna have you tonight. “Bra,” He ordered next and you unclipped it letting it slide down your arms to the floor. “Arms out,” and you held your arms out for him to bind. He wrapped his tie securely around your wrists, making sure that they were tight but comfortable. “If you want me to stop say red, ok?”

Aizawa cared a lot for you, and he wouldn’t push you to do something you didn’t want. You nodded and he pushed you gently back down onto the bed, slotting his body in between your thighs. He hooked his fingers into your panties and then slowly dragged them off your body, causing a whine to tear from your throat. “Patience,” he whispered, lifting up on of your legs to wrap around his neck. He then licked a stripe up your slit before swirling it around your clit. You moaned, toes curling as he pushed his tongue into you.

Euphoria took your body when he swapped his tongue for his fingers, skilled digits working you open as he sucked on your clit. One finger, two finger then three. His ear drank in the sound of your moans as he worked you. By now you were grinding against him, hips bucking and body shaking at the sheer pleasure he was giving you. A knot formed in your stomach, tightening and tightening, and just when you thought you were gonna burst he pulled away

A low whine left your lips, but Aizawa only kissed it away. “Don’t worry, good girls get rewarded.” He started undressing, “Do you have lube?” He may have worked you open, but he wasn’t risking hurting you. “Second drawer,” you panted and he quickly found it and slicked himself up. “Are you on birth control?” He asked as he lined himself up with your core, you nodded.

‘Smack’

You moaned at the stinging sensation on your ass cheek, “Words,” he growled. “Yes Sensei,” you moaned and he smirked, “Good girl.” He thrusted into you, and your back arched as you screamed in pleasure. “Shouta~” he snapped his hips, making sure his pace was slow but deep. He wanted to savor this and he would.

He pushed your arms above you, holding them in place as he fucked you deep. “Harder,” you panted as your head tilted back, Aizawa was not impressed. “Excuse me?” You mewled, “Please go harder Sensei.” That was what he wanted to hear. He snapped his hips against you harder, “Like this Baby Girl?”

You moaned loudly, “Yes Sensei!” he kept his pace, feeling your inner walls squeeze around him. He started shifting, trying to find that spot that would make you see stars. “SENSEI~” You screamed, Found it. He turned his attention to abusing that spot, hard and deep thrusts bring you both closer to release.

“Sensei-“ You tried to warn, but it was too late. The knot in your stomach snapped and your orgasm washed over you causing a scream like moan to rip from your throat. As your walls spammed around him Aizawa found himself also reaching his orgasm, cumming inside you but never halting his movements. You both rode out your highs, room filled with the smell of sex, sweat and Aizawa’s cologne.

Aizawa finally halted his movement, pulling out of you before dropping next to you. There were no words spoken for a while. Both of you coming to the realization of what just happened. Aizawa sighed, thinking you would rather want him gone, he started to get dressed. You furrowed your eyebrows, “Um…Would you…Would you like to stay?”

You voice brought him back out of his swirling thoughts. “I really would, but I wouldn’t want to over stay my welcome and-“ You shot up and pulled him to a passionate kiss. He had expected it, and slowly he melted into it wrapping his arms around your waist. “You know,” you whispered as you pull away, “You deserve happiness too Sensei.”

#aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #aizawa #bnha #bnha smut

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samanthadalton · 4 years

Text

Star crossed lovers (au)

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic (there will be a bunch of parts to it) there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

(this chapter is more about setting up the basis of the story so is more context than anything else, part 2 will be more interesting I swear 😭, also it’s like 4am so if there’s any gramatical mistakes I’ll fix it later)

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @simpforpoppy @ognenniyvolk (I’m pretty sure this is my tag list if you wanna be added or taken off for future chapters just ask 😊)

word count: 3.6k

Part 1: The introduction

As the sun began to set, the houses along the street began to bask in its warm glow. The neighbourhood is quiet, like always, excluding the occasional car engine rumbling through the roads until they disappear into the distance and once again the silence is deafening. This neighbourhood was your typical suburban type, their structures stood tall and bold. Looking from an aerial point of view, one could argue that it’s almost like the houses have been copied and pasted along the street, they almost look perfect. One theory is that they were purposely made to look like they're perfect because they don’t want anyone to find out their secrets. It’s harder to catch a true glimpse when everything looks flawless.

If you compare the northside and the southside of Greensburg, it makes it seem like they’re living in two different worlds and maybe they are. The polarisation between the rich and the poor only becomes bigger, demonstrated by the high socio-economic backgrounds of those who lived in the north who go to the best schools, have the best jobs and sometimes own more than one house. Compared to those in a low socio economic background in the south, who usually have to work two jobs just to feel some sort of financial stability in their lives or have no choice but to indulge in illegal jobs just so they can feel some sort of power and superiority and have money of course. Only a few in the south are able to lead a straight and narrow life and successfully do it without having to engage in the culture of illegal activities.

Bea Hughes, a girl who lives in Greensburg is someone who managed to immerse herself in both worlds. She used to be part of the upper class lifestyle but after life fucked her and her family over at the tender age of 8 years old, she was pulled into another world, one that she quickly had to acquaint herself with, because in the south, survival matters. The luxuries she once knew as a kid had disappeared and she constantly lived in a fight or flight situation. Now as her senior year of high school looms ahead, she finds herself still living in a similar situation, but instead of dealing with gangs or her addict of a mother, she had to deal with stuck up rich kids in Greensburg’s most prestigious school, Belvoire, which may have been her toughest obstacle of all. Against all odds, Bea managed to earn a scholarship at this private school when she was 15, and in order to keep her place, she has to maintain a 4.0 GPA, join at least one extra curricular activity and immerse herself into the culture of the school (whatever that meant).

Even though life managed to be shitty most of the time, there was one constant, one thing that made life worth living, one thing that made her the happiest…

“Crap”, the brunette clung onto the branch of the tree trying to regain her footing after narrowly avoiding her death (or more likely a trip to the hospital). After recovering from her mild slip, she rapped on the window beside her and a few seconds later the window slides open and as she enters the room she trips up on her own feet landing face down on the floor.

“Real smooth”

Bea chuckles at the snark comment as she looks up and as the sunlight shines through the window, it highlights all the features of the other girl. She was shorter than Bea (although not in this moment since Bea was practically laying on the floor), her facial features were sharp and her strawberry blonde hair fell perfectly around her shoulders. Her plush pink lips were curled up in a small smile as she offered a hand to the girl to help her up.

“I totally meant to do that” Bea takes her hand and lifts herself off the floor, and after she quickly dusts herself off and grabs the blonde’s wrist pulling her towards her while her other hand settles on her waist. “So how much time do we have?”

The petite girl wounds her arms around the taller girl’s neck and slightly tip toes to whisper, “my dad has dinner with a bunch of investors so he’s not going to be back until midnight”. A huge smile appears on her face as she leans back slightly taking in the appraising look of the brunette.

“Perfect”.

Bea moves in to kiss the blonde, passion already igniting as their tongues tangle in a fight for dominance until Bea suddenly pulls away, foreheads touching, eyes blazing with desire as she whispers against the other girl’s lips, “I missed you Pops”.

The other girl rolls her eyes and unwinds her arms from Bea’s neck, slightly pushing her back and while maintaining eye contact she walks backwards towards the bed and sits on the edge, “shuttup, you literally saw me yesterday” her tone attempting to come across as catty but instead comes out in a more playful manner.

Bea raises an eyebrow as she saunters to where the girl is sitting and places two fingers under the girl’s chin lifting her face until their eyes meet, “so? I’m suddenly not allowed to miss my girlfriend?” She leans in, her lips ghosts around the blonde’s lips.

“You talk too much, come on we’re wasting daylight” the blonde grabs Bea’s shirt and pulls her down onto the bed with her as they tussle in the sheets, lips crashing against one another reigniting the same passion from the kiss before.

“Poppy..” Bea all but moans when Poppy places wet kisses along her jawline and begins biting at her neck. Not wanting her to have all the fun, Bea suddenly flips Poppy over pressing her deeper into the mattress as she ravenously kisses her, as if Poppy is the only one who can satiate her desire, and honestly speaking? She probably is.

“No more foreplay, I want you now” Poppy breathlessly says, breaking the heated kiss. Bea sits up to straddle Poppy, intertwining both hands with hers and places it above the blonde’s head and grinds on her hips earning a low groan from Poppy.

“Ask and you shall receive my queen”

In response, Poppy rolls her eyes and her tongue darts out of her mouth, teasingly moving against her own soft lips and as Bea leans in for another kiss her slender fingers move lightly above Poppy’s inner thigh, touching everywhere except where Poppy wanted her the most. After a few pleads from the blonde, Bea finally indulges her desires and they moved in perfect syncopation.

…..

After a while, Bea and Poppy collapse into each other’s arms, exhausted but satisfied recovering from their physically demanding rendezvous. Bea lays on her back with one arm behind her head and one arm wrapped around the petite girl who fit perfectly in her larger frame. Poppy relaxes her head on Bea’s chest, feeling lulled by her heartbeat which brings her a sense of calm and security. Bea softly kisses her forehead and looks down at the girl, entranced by her beauty, enrapturing the way her breaths are slightly longer and deeper than usual, the way her hair falls around her face and how her fingers subconsciously ghost around Bea’s stomach drawing lazy shapes.

Poppy Min Sinclair, a 5’2 blonde beauty who is Bea’s entire world. Everything about her screams perfection in Bea’s eyes. She’s a straight A student, captain of the cheerleading team, and likes to spend time volunteering at her local animal shelter and is secretly an amazing artist. Though her family was one of the richest families in Greensburg, Poppy wasn’t your average highschool rich girl. Though she would often go on regular shopping sprees and refuse to wear anything that wasn’t designer (unless it was Bea’s clothes), she never treated Bea any differently than how others would. She was a bright girl, who was loving, friendly, fierce when she needed to be and extremely loyal. When it was just her and Bea she could show her true self, not pretend to be someone she’s not or play a certain role, she could just simply be Poppy instead of Poppy Min Sinclair. Poppy often felt the gravity that came with her name, especially since that’s all her father pressured her to be, a Min Sinclair.

Hayden Min Sinclair, Poppy’s father, owned an entire empire of companies, differentiating from technology based businesses to architecture and finance. To say he was a businessman was putting it lightly, he was almost like a god or at least someone who was highly worshipped by business moguls. He built up his family’s name and within a decade he was a force to be reckoned with. Hayden Min Sinclair worked his ass off to lift his companies off the ground because as a person of colour he knew he would have to work 10x harder to get what he wanted. All he ever wants is life for his daughter to be easy, the irony is, that he’s one of the main reasons why it’s so hard.

He’s a man of honour and pride and has never expected anything less from his daughter, hoping she would keep the dignity attached to the Min Sinclair name and bring it to new heights. So his traditionalist and conservative views means that he’s expecting Poppy to marry a man, who’s also an aristocrat, in which Bea is 0 for 2 for Poppy’s father’s expectations. Hence, Bea and Poppy have to keep their relationship a secret, a way to protect both Poppy and her future but also Bea from Mr Min Sinclair’s wrath. Reputation means everything to the Min Sinclairs and to Mr Min Sinclair specifically, especially after Poppy’s mother passed away when Poppy was 10 after an unfortunate incident of a drunken hit and run which left Poppy permanently broken from the loss of her mother but had all the socialites gossiping about the tragedy for months. To this day Poppy and her father still mourn her loss and Poppy often turns to Bea for comfort, for her companionship could provide the means of making her forget the empty presence of her mother that was left behind.

They’d known each other since they were 7, when Bea used to live in the very same neighbourhood after the Min Sinclair’s moved into the neighbourhood, and they spent almost every waking hour together, attached by the hip. They were the best of friends and almost nothing could get in their way. Emphasis on the ‘almost’.

When Bea’s father left Bea’s mother, Isabella when Bea was 8 and her sister Aria was 2, after finding out that Aria wasn’t his child as a result of a one night stand Isabella had, Bea’s family struggled to afford to live in the neighborhood especially since Bea’s father was the breadwinner of the house and their main source of income. After a series of bad decisions resulting in Bea’s mother losing her job as a banker, the 3 girls were forced to move to the south of Greensburg since it was the only thing they could afford.

Bea and Poppy were still inseparable at this point, either Bea would take 2 buses to go to Poppy’s house or Poppy would call the family’s driver so she could go over the Bea’s. The breaking point for their friendship was the day when Bea’s mother once took the girls to the park when they were 11 and after she had gotten so intoxicated to the point she threw up in front of all the children, and Poppy’s father prohibited Poppy from seeing Bea again.

“That girl and her family will bring shame to our family’s name, imagine what your mother would say” Poppy can still hear her father’s words ringing in her head from time to time, but everytime she looks at Bea, all her expectations would disappear and she would just simply be happy.

They began dating when they were 14, after Poppy had managed to scrounge up all her courage to kiss Bea on valentine’s day, after the two girls had snuck away to a diner to hang out like they would usually do. Poppy looked as if she was going to pass out from embarrassment when Bea didn’t reciprocate the kiss at first, however in Bea’s defence she was more startled than anything else. When Poppy was about to apologise Bea moved in and gave Poppy a sweet and chaste kiss on the lips and from then they decided they would be together. Bea couldn’t believe her luck when she was able to call Poppy hers, she felt like she didn’t have much to offer Poppy as she had yet to have earned the scholarship to Belvoire, the same school that Poppy had been attending. As well as coming from a troubled family life she didn’t want to implicate Poppy in any way but staying away from her had proven to be too difficult.

The consequences of their forbidden love was much harder on her than it was on Poppy, still nevertheless she would do anything for Poppy, which was proven time and time again when they have to act like strangers at school. In spite of that, the stolen glances, the stolen moments, the stolen kisses, it made it all worth it.

“Are you ready for school tomorrow” Poppy’s soft voice vibrated against Bea’s chest.

Bea lets out a soft chuckle, “What do you think Pops? I’m the school’s lonely girl”

Bea’s reputation at Belvoire could not be worse, in a school filled with entitled brats, it was difficult for her to make any friends considering her economic background. She also couldn’t rely on Poppy and her popularity since she couldn’t be within any vicinity of the girl she loves. Bea and Poppy’s friends had a history of not getting along, and since Poppy couldn’t allow the true nature of her relationship with Bea to come to light, Bea had to deal with all sorts of harassment and bullying from them. Bea often had to remind herself that she was only a target because with money comes a lot of entitlement, especially from snobby teenagers. Moreover, the consequences of her mother’s actions also didn’t help Bea as the stories followed her everywhere, causing all sorts of rumours to spread like wildfire.

Poppy lifted her head slightly to look into Bea’s eyes, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant it’s the last year of highschool, that means one last chance for us to win nationals and for you to come on top for volleyball.”

As mentioned beforehand, the extra curricular Bea chose to partake in was volleyball, not only did being part of a winning sports team look good on a college application, it also helped Bea with releasing her pent up anger and dominating her competition. Her favourite thing in particular was the smaller group of cheerleaders, including Poppy, who were at every game after Poppy made a compelling argument to the principle about the importance of raising school spirit in all sport related inquiries. Bea would often steal a glimpse at Poppy, who always came up with extra dance moves and cheers, sending secret messages that she was rooting for her girlfriend.

“One more year of highschool, do you know what that means Pops?” Bea smiled devilishly at Poppy who returned the smile and leaned her face in, lips ghosting around Bea’s.

“Why don’t you remind me?”

Bea grabbed the blonde’s waist and stole a quick kiss, “One more year means that next year we’ll both be in New York, and we can finally be together for real”.

“I can’t wait to live off campus with you, we should start looking at places now so we can get ahead and find a good place sin-” Bea cuts her off with a kiss while Poppy smiles, “I hate when you interrupt me with kisses”

“No you don’t”

“You’re right I don’t, but you better not slack this year Bea Hughes otherwise I’ll beat your ass if you don’t get into Columbia”

“I would never, I’m literally a better student than you babe. I would say you shouldn’t slack either but we all know daddy’s going to help you get into NYU.”

Poppy playfully slaps Bea on the arm who just laughs, “hey, no way in hell am I going to use the Min Sinclair name like that, when” (she made sure to put extra emphasis as she spoke) “I get into NYU it will be because of how amazing and talented I am”

“Not to mention damn right gorgeous and smart and incredibly flexible”

Poppy moves to straddle Bea, hands on either side of her head and she leans in, “hmm, you think the admission office will be looking at those particular things?” her tone teasing and inviting.

Bea attempts to move her head up only for Poppy to quickly place her perfectly manicured hand around her neck and push her down, Bea’s eyes flash as her voice pulsates with desire, “well I’ll definitely be looking, for educational reasons of course”

Poppy breaks out into a wide grin as the girls share a passionate kiss, tongues tangled together as they fight for dominance, Bea tries to envelop Poppy’s entire mouth with her kiss but Poppy’s unrelenting perseverance pushes through as she tightens the grip around Bea’s neck, pushing her deeper into the mattress. Bea succumbs to Poppy’s kisses and allows the blonde’s tongue to explore the inside of her mouth, getting lost in the wave of pleasure that emanates from Poppy’s lips.

After a few more kisses, Bea looks at the digital clock sitting on top of Poppy’s dresser, “damn it’s getting late I should go”

“Wha- it’s barely 10 o’clock”, Poppy pouts as her eyebrows furrow slightly.

“I know” Bea places a hand on Poppy’s face gently brushing against her cheekbone, “but you need your 8 hours of sleep and I gotta make sure everything is ready for Aria tomorrow”.

Poppy sighs defeatedly as she knows how important Bea’s half sister is to her, she’s practically an older sister to Aria and is also incredibly protective of her too. “Well tell Aria I said hi”

Bea moves to stand and Poppy grabs her hand, “wait, you didn’t tell me, how’s your mom?”

Bea nonchalantly shrugged and gazed at the floor, “same old, same old, she drinks herself into oblivion not giving a shit about the rest of us”

Poppy rubbed comforting circles on Bea’s hand, “don’t worry Bea one day it will get better”

Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I’ve been saying that for almost 10 years”

She stalks over to the window and lets half of her body hang out ready to reach out to the tree, Poppy moves over and gives Bea one last lingering kiss, “You know you can use the front door, my dad’s not here”

“Yeah I know but it’s always so awkward when I run into Rita at this time because she knows that I’m screwing you”, Bea smiles while Poppy raises an eyebrow

“Screwing me?”

“Sorry I meant making love to you” she gives Poppy a quick kiss

“Much better, and anyways Rita doesn’t care, she’s been rooting for us this entire time”

“It’s okay, don’t worry P, I’ve been climbing in and out of these windows and over that gate for years, how else do you think I got these muscles”, she flexes her toned arms while Poppy runs a hand over them, “I love you”

“I love you too”, Poppy watches as Bea moves out of the window, gripping the tree and making her descent, “wait” she shouts down, “where did you leave your bike?”

Bea smiles up at her, “I parked it a couple of blocks away from here it’s fine, I’ll text you when I get home” she blows a kiss to Poppy and begins making her way over the gate and into the street which shone bright from the lampposts. Poppy sighs and closes her window and begins getting ready for bed until a knock at her door catches her attention. Rita, her nanny and keeper enters the room and looks at Poppy with a knowing glance, ‘Bea didn’t want to stay for dinner?’

Poppy laughs slightly and shakes her head, “no she had to get home to make sure her sister is okay”

Rita leaves a plate with a few cucumber and cheese sandwiches on the dresser, “don’t stay up too late Miss Min Sinclair,” and with that she gives a little wave and leaves the room closing the door behind her. After eating half of her sandwich and going through her extensive nighttime routine, she receives a text from Bea

💖 B

Just got home now

Love you and goodnight my love

Poppy smiles at her phone and then sets her phone on her dresser, not before putting it on charge, and drifts off to sleep.

Bea on the other hand was wide awake. When she safely parked her motorbike near her house and texted Poppy as she entered the house. She looked up from her phone into the dark room to see the tv quietly playing while her mother was passed out on the couch with a half drunk bottle of vodka on the table. She moved towards the couch covering her mom with a blanket and then went into her bedroom to check on her sister who was soundly sleeping in her bed. Bea headed into the kitchen took some cold pizza from the fridge and did some last minutes checks to make sure both her and her sister were equipped and ready for school tomorrow. She settled in her bed, her mind racing with thoughts about school and how challenging the first day back will be.

read part 2:

#playchoices #queen b #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair

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viastro · 4 years

Text

the time for us | kwon soonyoung

ミ★ synopsis: in which you and soonyoung broke up six months ago and you run into each other at the club. [requested by @shoshishua]

ミ★ genre: primarily angst, fluff at the end

ミ★ warnings: very very brief mention of blood

ミ★ word count: 2,452

ミ★ pairings: hoshi x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi! another oneshot hehe. my baby requested this one! we basically had this whole deal where we choose two sentences and a person for the other to write about. the two sentences i got were, “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” as well as, “what happens if I do this?” so i hope you guys like this one!

There’s only been one guy in your life who you’ve loved. You may have been young, sixteen at the time, but it felt like you and Soonyoung could take over the world. You were both hardworking, always sneaking around the dance studio at late hours to practice. As well as being ambitious, proven by the fact that whenever the opportunity for a solo arose you and Soonyoung would compete against each other for it.

It was when you both graduated high school that things started to fall apart. You were naive, thinking that since you two were together for three years you guys were practically married. Your relationship only took the turn for the worst once you and Soonyoung realized you both had incredibly different career paths. You wanted to become a nurse while he wanted to pursue dancing. You both completely supported each other, Soonyoung being ecstatic when your application for residency was approved, and you being excited when Soonyoung got into the talent agency.

However, your schedules no longer lined up as you both became busier by the minute. Your late night calls became the new system for your guys communication, but that began to dwindle as well. Suddenly the excuse, “I’m tired, I had a long day.” began to be thrown around endlessly. Which may have been true, but it led the feelings of bitterness and anger to start to rise between you two due to the lack of communication. Or should you say, the lack of effort that was being put into the relationship.

The breakup was the worst thing either of you had to go through in your twenty years of living. That may sound like it’s an exaggeration, but it’s not. It ended with tears, a slam of a door, and Soonyoung throwing a plate across the room. Your relationship wasn’t the only thing that shattered that night, for the plate broke into what looked like thousands of pieces. It was a pain in the ass for Soonyoung to clean, so he didn’t. He left the shards of glass there for months, as some kind of way to punish himself for the things he said that night, for letting you go.

He only cleaned it on the fourth month after the breakup because Chan came over and scolded him, telling him how dangerous it is. Chan basically held an intervention on Soonyoung’s behavior, and took him out to the club to try and get him to feel something again.

Little did Chan know that it would simply make things worse.

Soonyoung started going to clubs almost every weekend to just bring home different girls in an attempt to get over you. It really doesn’t work though because the whole time he’s kissing a random girl his mind is just running off of you, you, you.

He imagines that it’s you he’s kissing, that you’re the one he’s holding, that you’re the one laying with him after everything is said and done. He’s been doing this routine for six months now, and no one can stop him.

Honestly, you aren’t doing that much better either! You’re both god damn messes after the break up. You refused to leave your room the whole weekend after things ended horribly between you and Soonyoung. You’d only get up to go to work, then come back to your apartment and wallow in your own self pity.

You only started going out a few months after the breakup because Seungkwan thought you needed to find somebody new. He had the same thinking as Chan when it came to this, and that’s why you’re here in this position now.

Dressed in a silk lavender dress and a pair of flats because god knows you can’t wear heels. You haven’t looked this put together in months, but you’re slowly falling apart on the inside once you take notice of who’s sitting at the bar talking to a really pretty girl.

Yes, you guessed it, it’s Kwon Soonyoung. The guy who broke your heart six months ago, as well as you breaking his. You feel your heart pound against your chest as you look at him from the booth you and Seungkwan are seated at. His hair is no longer red like you remember, now dyed a dark black that emphasizes the sharpness of his jawline. He’s wearing a see-through shirt with a black fitted blazer over it, along with tight black jeans.

“He looks great.” You mumble to yourself as you take a small gulp of the soju Seungkwan ordered for you. Soonyoung smiles at the girl when she rests her hand softly on his shoulder, and you find a bitter taste in your mouth.

“You know yn, the whole reason we came here was for you to get over [redacted], not eye fuck him.” You turn your head to glare at your friend, who’s giving you a knowing smile.

“You knew he was gonna be here?” You ask and Seungkwan shrugs, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

“Yeah.”

“And you thought bringing me here was a good idea… why?”

“I live off of chaos.” You roll your eyes at his answer, turning away to look around the club. The dj is playing an Usher song, which is giving you major nostalgia. Specifically, it brings back the memory of you and Soonyoung fighting for who gets center when you were seventeen. Letting out a small sigh at the thought, your eyes find their way back to your ex-boyfriend, and your heart practically leaps out of your chest once your eyes connect with his.

Soonyoung is no longer paying any interest to the girl in front of him once his eyes land on you. His heart pounds violently against his chest once he realizes it’s been six months since he last saw you. He watches as you look around the room for a moment, only to lock your eyes with his. Your eyes immediately widen for a second, only to go back to normal.

she’s so cute, Soonyoung thinks to himself. He raises an eyebrow at you once he realizes this has now turned into a mini staring contest. You finally blink, choosing to look back at Seungkwan once you feel your hands begin to shake underneath the table. Soonyoung smirks, already feeling pretty buzzed from the bottle of soju he finished.

“Um, Hoshi, hello?” Soonyoung turns back to the girl he was speaking to, only to give her an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m interested tonight. You’ll find someone better, don’t worry.” Soonyoung tells her sweetly, and she gives him a sad smile. She nods her head before getting up off the chair and heading towards the dance floor.

Soonyoung turns his head to look back at you only to realize you’re not sitting at the booth anymore. His eyes widen in panic for a moment turning around in his seat to look for you. You let out a small smile as you sit down in the seat the girl was sitting in a moment ago, waiting for Soonyoung to notice you.

“Where’d she- AH!” You let out a small giggle at his reaction once he finally turns back and notices you sitting beside him. Soonyoung lets out an embarrassed cough, trying to play it cool.

“It’s been a while.” He mutters, and you glance at him through the corner of your eye, taking notice of the pink tinge on his cheeks. From being tipsy or being embarrassed? Probably both. You take another sip from your soju before answering, “Yeah. It has.”

“Why did you come here? I thought clubbing wasn’t your thing.” Soonyoung asks you, and you shrug.

“When we were dating it wasn’t, but I’m single now. Decided to try something new.” You respond, and Soonyoung feels a punch to his gut. You almost slap yourself in the face at the stupid, petty comment, but you keep your demeanor cool. Soonyoung downs another shot before standing up from the bar, feeling old anger resurface.

“I’m going to dance, it was nice seeing you.” His tone is as cold as ice, making a shiver run down your spine. You finally turn your head to look at him, and you both feel your breaths get taken away at the close proximity between you two. Soonyoung’s eyes travel from your eyes to your plush lips, and you feel your heart beat wildly in your chest. Soonyoung feels tears prick at the back of his eyes once your scent registers in his mind, triggering the feeling of home. A feeling that’s been lost for months.

“It was nice seeing you too.” You whisper softly, eyes glancing down to his lips, causing Soonyoung to clench his jaw. Before he does anything he’ll regret, he turns around and walks off into the crowded dance floor. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, turning in your seat to watch him.

Soonyoung feels your eyes on him as he begins dancing with a random girl, and it reignites the pain he thought was numbed away. You watch as the girl starts grinding back onto Soonyoung, and you feel your heart shatter once again. You weren’t ready to get over him, god you aren’t even over him. Watching the way Soonyoung starts to nibble on her neck is the last straw for you. You take one last sip of your soju before walking back to the booth you shared with Seungkwan.

“I want to go home.” You demand and Seungkwan nods his head, not needing to ask why. The heartbroken expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know.

“Yeah, I’ll take you home yn.”

You fail to notice Soonyoung watching you leave.

“I can’t believe I’m still not over him.” You mutter to yourself as you pace around your apartment, barefoot but still in your dress. It’s been an hour since you left the bar and Seungkwan dropped you off at home, and you spent thirty minutes of that just sitting in the middle of your kitchen eating a slice of bread.

“I know our breakup was so fucking stupid and I shouldn’t have left, but that was the past. How am I still hung up over the past when it’s been six fucking months.” You feel a sob begin to bubble in your chest as the fond memories flood your brain.

You hear a knock on your door, causing you to pause your pacing in the living room. You carefully step over, looking through the peephole once you make it to the door. Your breath hitches in your throat once you see who’s on the other side, and you quickly make it to open the door.

“Soonyoung.” You breathe out. He’s standing there in all his glory, looking a bit less put together than he was at the bar. You feel your blood run cold once you notice a red lipstick mark on his neck.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly, feeling vulnerable at the way his eyes rake your figure.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you nod your head, moving to the side so that he can step in. He slips off his shoes, and follows you to the kitchen. You open up your fridge, checking inside to see what refreshments you can possibly offer him.

“Do you want a drink? Food? I only have leftovers from this one thai restaurant-”

“I still love you.” You stop mid-reach into grabbing the can of coke, knowing it was his favorite while you two were dating. You close your fridge, and slowly turn around to face him. He has tears pricking at the back of his eyes, and you feel your heart stop when he takes a small step forward.

“Y-you, you what?”

“Our fight was stupid, and it was my fault. I wasn’t trying hard enough which is so horrible because you are quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I wish I stopped you from leaving that night because you never came back.” Soonyoung says, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“You’re drunk Soonie.”

“I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.” He takes another step forward, and you look up at him, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“I’ve regretted letting you go every single day these past six months. I’ve become someone so ugly on the inside. I feel like I’m not living and I’m doing stupid shit just to feel something again.” You bite the inside of your cheek even harder to the point that you taste the copperness of blood.

“I- I go to bars every weekend, I drink until I can’t remember, and I find a new girl to bring home just to make sure you’re not on my mind.” Soonyoung confesses and you look away from him, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, only for more tears to take its place. He takes another step forward so that your faces are mere inches apart. He presses a finger underneath your chin, making you look back up into his eyes.

“But it never works.”

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you, yn.” A tear falls from his eye, and you reach up to cup his cheek, wiping it away with your thumb. He lets out a small smile, leaning in a bit to test the waters.

“What happens if I do this?” He asks, his lips almost brushing against yours as he speaks.

“I don’t know.” You whisper, your hand dropping to clutch his shirt. Soonyoung reaches up and softly rests a hand on your cheek.

“I’m going to kiss you now, tell me if you want me to stop.” He mumbles, staring into your eyes. Another tear slips past as you nod your head, a small, sad smile gracing your features.

“Please.”

It’s all Soonyoung needs to hear before he leans in, capturing your lips with his. His lips are slightly chapped, and it tastes salty due to the tears you both shed while also tasting like soju. However, it’s nothing short of perfect. Your hand moves from clutching his shirt to resting on the side of his neck as his arms reach around your waist, pulling you closer and holding you tighter.

“Is this real? You love me?” Soonyoung asks against your lips, pulling you in again to taste your sweet lips that he’s been missing for months. A small smile escapes you, mumbling between kisses, “Yes, it’s real. I love you so much.”

After six months of Soonyoung kissing random people imagining that it’s you, for the first time it’s finally you.

it’s finally you.

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catsandstrawberries · 4 years

Text

Professor Kim? 2

Pairing: College Professor!Taehyung x Student!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Underage Drinking! (I am not encouraging this in any way) Age gap (like 5 years), almost smut, grinding, swear words, peer-pressure,

Summary: You should not be doing this. You should not be at a bar, you should not be kissing this stranger, and this stranger should definitely not be your teacher.

You have a habit of doing things you shouldn't, like your professor.

A/N: This isn’t as graphic as the last chapter but I promise the next chapter will have more action.

"Fuck."

It took me less than 30 seconds to rip my gaze from him and trip over myself in a race to my seat. I hoped and prayed that this was all just some organized prank, maybe I was being videotaped for a prank tv show.

But instead of hidden cameras tracking my every move, it was his eyes, always trailing back to me whenever I gained the courage to look at him.

Even when I kept my head down I could still feel his gaze, the simmering anger and accusations ready to steam over with a roll of his tongue.

This is what happens when I try to be adventurous.

"Freshman community service day is next week so keep an ear out for new information on that. Mrs. (l/n), do you mind staying after for a moment?"

Yes. Yes, I mind.

Instead of answering I just stayed silent while the rest of the class filed out of the room, barely blinking an eye at Tae's not so subtle request.

How could I have messed this up already?

Tae follows behind the last student and gives a polite wave before slowly closing the door with a soft thud.

"I just graduated, I attended a university, any more lies you want to reveal?"

"That technically wasn't a lie, I did graduate from high school," I mumble, my shoulders scrunching up in defense.

"Well you could have cleared that up at the bar-" Tae's eyes suddenly go wide and his breath catches in the back of his throat.

"Oh my god. I bought you alcohol illegally, and almost had sex with a minor."

Ok. I messed up.

"The age of consent is seventeen, and it's not like I knew you would be my freshman English teacher!"

Tae groans and drops his face into his cupped hands, shaking his head slowly from side to side.

"(y/n) this can't-"

"I know."

I say firmly. A pause spreads between the two of us before I speak up,

"So what? We pretend as if nothing happened."

Tae scoffs and lets out a humorless laugh as he replies,

"You want me to grade your papers on Friday and take you out to drink on Saturdays?"

"Excuse me for not expecting to pretend my teacher is a stranger."

"I hope you're a good actor then."

A harsh knock comes from the door and me and Tae practically jump apart as if we each had the plague.

A man peeks his head through the window, his sandy blonde hair swept to one side and his face breaks into a smile once he sees the two of us. His blue button-up shirt is tucked into his dress pants and his square black glasses sit perched on his sun-kissed nose. He looks only a few years older than Tae, and I'm thankful for the surprise visit to break the heavy tension.

"Oh, I'm sorry was I interrupting something?"

"NO!" The two of us say in unison, refusing to glance in each other's direction.

"Mrs. (l/n) was just discussing her love of fiction writing, and was asking if she could fit your class into her schedule." Tae seemingly lies, or half-lies, and it would be false to say my stomach didn't flutter at the fact Tae remembered that fact from our last encounter.

"Really?" The stranger asks with a gleam in his eyes before he outstretches his hand.

"I'm Professor Kim Namjoon, head of the English department. Most kids call me Proof Joon." I flinch at the term, kids. That's what I was to them, to Tae, just a kid.

"I teach most of the fiction writing courses."

I brighten up at his last words. Entrapped with the idea of joining a writing class to cultivate my love for writing.

"Really! I'd love to sign up."

I suddenly remember where I am and add politely,

"though I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Professor Joon. Thank you for the help, Professor Kim."

The name sounds like metal, weighing down my mouth as I leave, and it doesn't go away the entire walk to my dorm. Disgusting.

Fuck my life.

The mantra repeated in my head the entire way to his office. The man who I had been so anxiously trying to avoid, not going to his office hours, refusing to ask him questions, not singing up for any of his classes, all seemed to be for nothing.

I, a lover of the art of writing, signed up for Prof Joon's fiction writing class, thinking that it would be a useful class, and get me away from Taehyung.

Who I only had to see twice a week.

But because the universe is a big ball of fiery, stinky shit, the class filled up, and naturally, the next English teacher would take on the new class.

Stupid Kim Taehyung.

Even worse, I applied to transfer out of his class.

I slammed the off white cardstock paper on his desk, the bold red letters reading clear as day, DENIED.

"You denied me? Why!?"

I crossed my arms, shouting in the empty classroom while Tae gave me an unimpressed look.

"Don't you think it will look odd if you suddenly transfer out of all my classes?"

"No."

"This is the only open fiction writing class. If you love writing you should take it or did you lie about that too?"

An annoyed growl slips past my lips and I glare at the way his eyebrow perk up, his brown eyes shimmering with curiosity and a need to unpack me and all my vulnerabilities.

"This might be easy for you, professor," I sneered, "but it's hard to pretend like we don't know each other."

"We don't know each other."

I scoffed and pulled the collar of my shirt to the side, purple and blue bruises fading, the colors painted on my skin by his very tongue.

"We do."

Freshman community service day was an excuse for the college to feel better about itself and its relationship with the community. It was obvious. From the lack of information, planning, and the huge amount of advertisement around campus.

All freshman participated for a pass or fail grade, and though I had never failed a class before I debated skipping.

Guess why?

We were split up by English classes.

With a rake in hand and the booming sound of Drake blasting from a fellow freshman's speaker (Jungkook, I think?), I swished my hips from side to side and bopped my head to the steady beat.

Our current English class was volunteering at a local garden. Fresh produce sprung up from the ground with brightly colored fruits and vegetables. I was assigned to raking, a tedious task that barely kept my attention but the music helped with the boredom.

A tap on my shoulder was what cut me off from my mini dance routine, and I sheepishly turned around, shoulders scrunched up in embarrassment.

Tae held his hand towards his chest as if the meer action of touching me would harm him. Ouch.

"Sunscreen?" He held out the bottle of goo to me, and as quickly as I could I squeezed the sunscreen into my hands and rubbed it on my arms, neck, and face.

I held out the bottle to him, but instead of taking it, he pointed to my left cheek.

"You have something-no to the left, almost."

He gently grabbed at my palm furiously rubbing at my skin, and gently rubbed his thumb under my left eye.

His brown orbs flickered between the spot on my skin and my eyes, neither confirming nor denying the spark we felt for each other.

"Professor Kim! Can I borrow some sunscreen?!"

It was as if the world came crashing down on us, Tae's hand immediately retracting as he turned to the freshman waving his speaker around to get his attention.

The teacher.

The person who I should not be having an intimate moment with.

"You should go help Jungkook, Professor Kim."

My words came out like venom, but I didn't regret it. We couldn't keep playing this back and forth with each other,

could we?

Taglist: @aretha170 @kookie-vuitton @gee-nee @ladyartemesia @nekee-lilac02 @kpoptrashforlifeuu

#kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #bts series #bts #bts x reader #bts x reader smut #bts x reader fluff #Professor x Student #Professor AU #teacher x student #professor au #bts smut #professor kim?#bts au #bts x you

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cockasinthebird · 4 years

Note

Now I don’t know if you take requests, but If you do here’s an idea. What about Steve being the King Steve he was, but he’s very slutty one and lets guys fuck him a lot. He would be such a tease to Billy at a party, grind his ass on Billy’s cock on purpose while they’re dancing, because he really wants this hot Cali boy to fuck him senseless already and that’s exactly what happens when Billy finally makes his move and fucks Steve somewhere away from other peoples eyes (Wow this got long sorry!)

Dearest anon, Don’t ever feel the need to apologise for such a long message, especially not one as grand as this!!! Here you go, just grazing 9 pages with the last line, so this is long yes, and I will “warn” you that there’s an excessive amount of dirty talking, at least to my standards, and a bit rough play, but nothing severe of course. Enjoy!

Another Saturday, another unsupervised party in the distant Harrington Mansion, music pulsating so vividly that Billy swears he can feel it through the soles of his heavy boots as he walks between cars parked on the grass.

It doesn't take a fool to know that the high and mighty King Steve has issues with the solitude his house brings, nestled between grand trees, so distant from the rest of the town that there's never once been a noise complaint. That he has issues with the lack of parental attention, and instead seeks to fill the emptiness of his house with his loyal subjects; particularly his bed.

Which might be why Billy always shows up, or maybe not, but who's to tell. Everyone's always at these parties filled with alcohol that Daddy Harrington pays for unknowingly, so it would be weird if Billy wasn't here, too, right? At least he's content with thinking so.

Billy knows loneliness like Steve does, seeks the cure for it just as well, finding brief notions of it when he's got his dick buried in any hole really, his body flooded with liquor, his head pounding to the beat of shitty synth.

So here he is, looking for a saving grace, to have another night filled with sweaty, writhing bodies, stepping through the front door to King Steve's castle once again; having stopped counting how many times around 20.

Just like last week, there's people everywhere – every single junior and senior that knows what's good can be found here, perhaps even a few older drunkards that has nothing better to do in this shit hole town than to crash a high school party.

And just like each and every other time, it's overwhelming in the best possible way. All senses gets fulfilled the second he's completely inside;

Sweaty bodies bumping shoulders as he squeezes his way through the hall, guys patting his shoulders, girls bashing their eyes, and he can't help but grin all smooth and charming at the attention.

Tight jeans and short skirts, bulging muscles and exposed cleavages, all so pleasing to his wandering eyes as his peers twists and turns to ensure he sees it all.

Through the music he can barely hear it when one girl says, “Looking good, Billy,” or when a guy leans in to ask, “Can I get you a drink?” as he makes it into one of the living rooms.

With every breath he takes, a wild and intrusive mixture of perfumes and colognes and deodorants fills his lungs to completion, cheap and expensive alike, and it brings him to life.

All there's left now, is to taste a nice, cold beer, and his soul will be satiated, the checklist for a good party completed, and the festivities could truly begin. But when he turns in to the kitchen, it isn't the giant fridge he focuses on, or the girls passing by, giving him all kinds of bedroom eyes, or the impressive array of chips on display on the kitchen island.

No he sees the host immediately, Steve Harrington, leaning with his back to the wall. His jeans sit a bit more snug than usual, and his tee a bit higher up; not exactly a crop-top per se, but just short enough to expose a gorgeous, wiry trail of hair dipping beneath his pants.

His face is turned towards Tommy Hagan who stands awfully close for that to just be a friendly conversation, and there's no doubt in Billy's mind what they're talking about, if the way Steve's eyes sliding up and down is any indication, or the way he bites into his lower lip.

There is no hiding why Steve is so popular, or why he remains on the top even though Billy managed to beat his keg stand record with ease. Hadn't been any hiding the way Steve leered at him at Tina's Halloween party either.

The first week in Hawkins Billy had caught Steve twice doing the most salacious things, that Billy to this day, 7 long months later, still think about daily.

Steve, on his knees in the showers of the boys locker room one Monday after practice, probably nearly drowning under the water with his mouth wide and stretched around some teammates cock. Even now Billy can recall the way he was moaning and gagging passionately; hears it louder in his mind than the music of the party.

Steve, underneath the bleachers during third period, skipping class to fuck hard into some blonde bitch who struggled to keep quiet as she stood bent forward, arms wrapped around one of the supporting beams for the seats above. And he can still see Steve's lewd expression as he caught Billy staring, Steve's mouth slipping into a sly smirk, eyes dark and heavy as he kept their gazes locked, cumming with the most enticing groan.

Of course that wasn't the last time he saw Steve like that.

Sometimes Steve was the one bent over, against a tree or knees in the grass. Billy has passed by that brown BMW bouncing and wiggling by the side of the road indiscreetly plenty of times. And at almost every party he's attended, he's watched Steve go in and out of rooms with anyone really.

One time he followed along, peeked in through the crack in the door, and watched from start to finish as Steve laid on his back on a desk, hands firmly around his neck, some dude balls deep inside of him.

But with one blink, Steve turns his head and looks directly at Billy, as if he knew the other was watching. And he tilts his head aside, allowing for Tommy to kiss and suck his way down the exposed neck, Steve's lips parting from the smile into something more comfortable.

Billy keeps staring, intently. Walks to the fridge, blindly reaches in to grab what he's hoping is a beer can, then leans against the counter; scarcely ever blinking as to not miss a single second of the show.

And it is ardently clear that Steve enjoys having an audience, enjoys performing. Eyes heavy on Billy, Steve lifts up his right hand in a slight fist, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he simulates giving a blowjob.

Something which Billy can't help but snort at for some reason, despite how the suggestion courses through him rapidly, and Steve seems to find that equally as humorous, as he laughs quietly.

He then grabs Tommy by the chin and guides him off of his sensitive neck. Steve says something that might sound like, “Not tonight,” which wipes Tommy's lustful grin right off. And when Steve looks towards Billy, Tommy's gaze follows right along, and now the freckled guy looks downright pissed off.

Billy stares with a strong intensity, daring him to try anything, as Tommy walks right by with a clear scowl, jaw tense and hands curled by his sides. But he manages to make his way out the kitchen without as much as a word.

When Billy turns to look for Steve again, he finds him standing right by his side, hip against the counter.

“Hi,” Steve purrs.

“Hey,” Billy says and lifts up his beer to take a sip, but Steve is quick to snatch it from his hand, to then drink from it slowly, eyes locked together.

Steve gives a little satisfied hum and licks his lips clean, a gesture that at this short distance sparks inside of Billy's chest, lighting him up.

“What's his problem?” Billy asks and nods in the direction of where Tommy had marched off. “Thought he was dating that Perkins girl.” He tries to play it cool, pretend he's above knowing who's who here, despite the fact that Carol has flirted with him enough times to need more than two hands to count on.

“Him and Carol loves to play this little game where they flirt with others at parties, get all excited at the thought of being unfaithful, then find a place to bang it out.” Steve offers Billy what's left of his beer, which is less than a half, and much less than what Billy needs to keep somewhat calm right now.

“So you and Tommy never...” he trails off, hoping that the insinuation is clear enough.

And judging by the way Steve smiles something so suggestive might just be enough of an answer, yet he says, “Wouldn't you like to know?” And watches how Billy's mouth opens to take a sip.

Neither of them talks as he empties the can. Billy watches how Steve is almost admiring the view; the bob of his Adam's apple, the way his shirt is unbuttoned nearly all the way, the tight fit of his jeans. And Billy wants to say something, a slight quip about enjoying the view, or if he sees something he likes, but it's redundant, because who doesn't like what they see when they look at Billy Hargrove, Keg King.

The tense silence between them gets interrupted, when some drunk girl shouts, “Steve!”

She's got dark hair, a low cut blouse, and an impossibly tight leather skirt. Pretty enough, Billy would say, but he can't remember her name; too many cows around here for him to bother learning what they're all called. It's only important that they know his name, yet it's Steve she calls for and reaches out to grab his hand.

“Steve come on,” she coos and sways even when standing still, “You owe me a dance for doing your essay!”

Steve doesn't resist when she starts pulling him along, just turns to Billy with a certain grin, and says lowly, “Duty calls.”

Admittedly, Billy is kinda impressed with just how easy it is for Steve, or rather, how easy Steve is.

And maybe he spends the next hour thinking about that, as he walks the party with a fresh beer in hand and a searching gaze, always keeping a lookout for where the host might have sneaked off to.

When he stops by the dining table to assist in a victory of beer pong, he's thinking about how often he's seen Steve in compromising positions, rarely ever with the same person twice in a row, but always with such a euphoric expression.

Or when he's standing with a gaggle of girls, charming his way into their hearts, and hopefully their panties, he's thinking about how Steve pays others to do his homework with the pleasure of his company, and how Billy got an A on his history test last week, and how he knows that Steve struggles with that especially.

And when he walks into the other living room that has been designated as a dance floor it seems, he's thinking about that happy trail being exposed whenever Steve raises his arms too high, the way his hair moves fluidly along with the motion of Steve's lively expression, the way his hips goes from side to side in rhythm to the music, and the way his grin twists something so delicious when almond eyes catch angelic blues staring.

Without missing a beat, Steve prances through the crowd; the flow of his body uninterrupted and damn near beautiful as he makes his way to still before Billy's motionless stature, and they share similar smiles as Billy looks at Steve with hooded eyes and something darkening the calm skies in his eyes, tongue out to wet his grin and Steve's appetite.

You Spin Me Round plays louder than Billy's thoughts, and Steve turns his back to him, dancing, arms up, making the shirt expose his dimples of Venus, and Billy finds himself wanting to grab on to the swaying hips, press his thumbs into where the skin dips in the small of Steve's back.

Billy's not much of a dancer himself, but he still sways slightly to the song, shoulders pumping to the rhythm of the least detestable song that's been played so far tonight. All the while he stares at Steve putting on quite the sweaty, twisting, swirling show, and it wouldn't be hard to believe that it is all for the enjoyment of Billy only, despite how others occasionally shoot jealous glares at the pair of them.

He doesn't even notice it when Steve takes a step closer, having once stood a respectable distance away, now so close that Billy can smell perfume on him; whether it's Steve who's gone diving in his mothers drawers, or from girls having been all over him tonight, is an uncertain factor, but he smells good. And perhaps Billy takes a step forward, the movement of Steve enchanting, but the Keg King would absolutely deny it. Deny that there's someone in town who can so easily bewitch him with barely any effort. Deny that he's not in control of this attraction no more than magnets are to metal.

But when there's contact between them as Steve accidentally grazes against Billy with his ass, it becomes increasingly difficult to sustain plausible deniability, and his salacious little smirk falls. And as Steve continues to flow with the rhythm, he meets with Billy's crotch again, this time with more accuracy- more force, and Billy chokes back a, “Fuck,” that wouldn't have been heard no matter what here. When it happens again and again and again, Billy feels heat drain down to pool near his gut, and with every timid grind against his swelling flesh, it ripples through him, like rain breaking surface tension, a fever pulsating.

And this time he takes a definite step forth, pressing himself into Steve's confident movement, who pushes back against him, hips circling around, plump cheeks pressing deliberately into the noticeable bulge now, and although Billy can't see Steve's face, he would bet money on how he's undoubtedly smiling at the attention.

Enough is soon enough, and Billy grabs on to Steve's hips with near brutish force, stopping the irritatingly erratic motion and pulls him as close as possible, so that hopefully Steve can feel just how hard he is.

He leans forward, lips at the shell of Steve's ear, as he growls, “If you don't stop what you're doing, I won't be able to hold back.”

Steve turns his head as far as he can, ass flush with Billy's trapped erection, and shows just how eager he is for that little promise; mouth not turned up in a smile, but hanging wide open as he pants out, “Then don't.” Honeyed eyes drowning in black, lashes fluttering as he gives a tentative roll of his hips, causing Billy to lurch forward, grinding into the friction with a stuttering notion.

Behind a locked door, Steve's desk slams against the wall as he lands on it, Billy shoving at him, tearing off his shirt and dipping down to kiss rudely and bite along the exposed shoulder. Steve with his legs spread wraps them around Billy's firm hips and draws him closer to feel just how eager he is, too, as if the way he's moaning wasn't enough proof of that.

Steve yanks at golden hair to guide Billy up for a desirous meeting of lips, when Billy pulls away to hiss out, “You taste like pussy,” almost in wonder.

“Didn't think you'd mind that,” Steve chuckles then drives his slick tongue into Billy's mean mouth, feels how he sucks it all in, groaning at the mix of spit and booze and pussy that lingers. “How you want me, big boy?”

It takes Billy a second to understand he's being spoken to, as alcohol and his own unadulterated lust mixes in his system, making him grind all animalistic into the spread of Steve's thighs, like a fucking dog humping a leg.

“On your stomach, in bed,” he breathes out wetly and licks his lips to savor what's left of Steve there.

With a hand spread out onto his chest, Steve pushes Billy away, so that he can move off of the desk and step around the hulking, panting stature of Billy's burning hot body. There's a not-so-subtle chime of Steve's belt, his zipper going down a joyous melody, and honestly Billy shouldn't be this surprised to find out that Steve is going commando tonight, and perhaps he always is.

Billy doesn't move at first, paralyzed by the gorgeous curve of Steve's naked ass, how long and perfect his dick is, and he understands now why girls flock to him the way they do. Each and every mole across pale, lean skin the landmarks of a treasure map guiding you down between his legs.

And Steve crawls on to the bed, his knees just on the edge of the mattress, his back turned to Billy still, and he bends over, cheeks spread to expose his tight hole. Moves his right hand down between spread legs where his leaking erection hangs lonely, starts stroking it with slow pulls that brings out fresh moans, while his left hand goes past parted lips; two fingers knuckle deep as he sucks on them, tongue slipping between to get them proper wet and dripping.

“I want you so bad, Billy,” he whines once he's removes his fingers from his mouth. Leads them behind himself, presses both inside with ease, voice stuttering as he pumps them in and out. “Every since I saw you at Tina's party, ahh, when you knocked me off my throne, beat my keg stand record- fuck-” Fingers speed up for a moment, then slows down again, teasing himself- teasing Billy. “I've- I've never felt so defeated, so... alive.”

Billy feels his underwear stick where he's leaking, untouched, but the performance that of a lifetime, and fuck he wishes he had a camera – convinced Steve would be into that, into being filmed like this. He's heard rumors about certain Polaroid pictures circulating school, but he hasn't had the chance to see yet, although that only makes this all the more sweeter, to see King Steve in all his glory afresh.

He tugs his shirt off over his head, unbuckles and unzips, moving closer with a hand down to massage his painful, throbbing cock. Knows that Steve is watching him as he leers at his entrance begging for more, clenching something so unsatisfied at his own two fingers. Without warning, Billy slicks up his own fingers with spit and plunges them inside along with Steve's own two digits.

“Fuck, ahh!” Steve cries out and arches his back, “Your fingers are so thick.”

At a pace set by Billy, they dive in and out, stretching him together, and Billy sees it fit to spit right on him, lubing him up a bit more and moves faster as he intently listens to how Steve is moaning and calling out for more, harder, deeper.

“Jesus Harrington, you're so fucking insatiable...” Billy looks down at where Steve's eyes are closed tightly, knitted with pleasure, mouth wide open to let out all these delicious noises. “Such a slut,” Billy drawls, and is convinced that Steve's ass clenches a bit tighter at that word. Slut. “So hungry for my fat cock, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve whines and nods profusely, opening his eyes finally to catch cold waters meeting his gaze immediately. “Please,” he begs.

And as Billy pulls out his fingers, so does Steve, who brings both hands down to clutch at the bed sheets, his breathing shaky with anticipation, his prick drooling all over the blue covers.

“Lube and condoms in the top drawer, there,” he pants and points to the bedside table.

Where Billy is quick to yank it open and grabs both in one hand; his other continuously stroking himself through the trunks that are suffocating him, knowing that if he didn't keep that barrier of fabric in place, he'd blow far too soon from just the sight of Steve being so damn horny and needy.

“Can't wait to fill you up so good, princess,” he huffs as he slips on the condom.

Steve shakes his ass in a taunting manner with a lazy smile, and Billy can't help but laugh lightly at it, then brings his hand across one cheek, and-

“A-ah!” Steve moans out and presses his face deeper into the duvet.

And the grin that cracks across Billy's handsome features is awfully telling.

“I'm gonna fuck you so hard, baby, you won't be able to walk or sit straight for month,” he growls and licks his lips. “When I'm done with you, no other guy in Hawkins will be able to make you cum as good, won't satisfy you the same way I do.”

The cap of the lube pops open, and Billy slicks up two fingers, then promptly pushes them inside to lather Steve's ass up, who whines impatiently and moves his hips against the broad digits.

“Please, Billy,” voice all pathetic, “Just fuck me already.”

“Mmm patience,” Billy coos as he removes himself again, “Don't wanna hurt you by going in too dry.”

He covers his steely erection in a spirited amount of lube, excessively so as he strokes himself through the condom, and then goes to line up with Steve's fluttering hole, gasping, aching to be full. Pushes inside with nary a hint of kindness, bottoming out in one headlong swoop, leaving Steve moaning out long, and Billy grabs on with both hands to quell all motion between them, as he revels in how tight Steve is, how he's sucking him in.

“Oh fuck, Billy,” Steve keens and tries to move, but stern hands keeps him locked in place. “You're so big.”

“Yeah, I know,” Billy chuckles out like rumbling thunder in his chest.

Hands move off of Steve's hips to go grab two fistfuls of soft ass, where he spreads the cheeks as far apart as they can go, as to get a good and proper look at how his girthy cock is sunk deep inside, watches how the rim clench around him with a hunger to be thoroughly fucked. And at a pace menacingly slow, Billy pulls out, feels how every muscle clings to him like he's the most important thing in the world right now, and Steve whines as if it's true, too.

He keeps his stare there, watching with great interest as he moves till just his fat head remains inside, then shoves right back in, receiving the most vivid and alluring cry of his name from Steve's pretty pink lips.

“Billy- fuck, ah-” Steve moans with no inhibition as Billy sets a brutal pace of pulling out just to snap his hips back against Steve's exposed ass.

Skin slaps louder than the music downstairs, accompanied well by the squelching of Steve's dripping wet hole and his lascivious singing of praises and curses; the bed concurring with slight creaks. Steve arches his back in the most gorgeous curve, a pose with his plump ass raised with such expertise it shows just how often he's found himself like this, yet still calls out as if it's his first.

“Shit, princess, harrh, for being such a slut you sure keep tight,” Billy groans out as he slams his veiny cock into the most fantastic velvet heat.

A warmth that stirs perfectly at the base of his dick, waves of it washing down his thighs as he continues to chase his own high with the most ferocious will.

He bends forward, driving himself as deep as physically possible, and brings one hand down onto the back of Steve's neck, squeezing and pressing him into the bed.

“Yes- yes! Ah-” Steve croons like a bitch in heat, eyes rolling back, hands seeking for something to grab on to.

And Billy barks a laugh at how lost Steve becomes, how indignant and uncontrolled his voice becomes.

“You like it rough, huh bitch?” Billy growls like a wild hound, baring his canines and licking across the sharpness there, his thrusts rapid. “Like it when a real man fucks you?”

“Yes,” Steve chokes out, oh so pliant and dazed.

“Mmnh, hah, feel so good inside baby, sucking me in- my thick cock splitting you open.” Billy grazes his teeth across where he can reach on Steve's shoulder.

The response a whine, high pitched and erotic, and Steve reaches for himself-

But his wrist is quickly grabbed by Billy's other hand, pinning it above Steve's head; now most of Billy's heavy body weight pressing onto his neck, and his body tenses tighter.

“Fuck, ah,” Billy grunts as he feels muscles clasp around him like a vice. “Why don't you show me how beautiful you look cumming on my dick alone?”

“Billy,” Steve moans in a telling way of how close he is, and of how helpless he is. “I'm- I'm close-”

“Yeah you are.” Billy grins and bucks his hips all cruel and ruthless; wants Steve to remember this, to maybe be a bit sore after, cheeks red and ass puffy, throat sore from overuse. Want hims to know that absolutely no one else is ever going to make him nearly scream like this. “You're such an easy little whore, Stevie.”

“I am, ah- shit-” Steve admits readily, mumbles something more in agreeance, but all Billy can make out is his own name being called for again and again in tandem with his girthy cock hitting all the right spots.

It barely takes more than that before Steve's cumming; shooting hot and white all over his expensive sheets, body tensing up to a choking point that pulls Billy closer, the tightness unparalleled by any pussy he's ever been this deep in.

“Fuck that's hot,” his voice dripping with lust thick as honey.

“Don't- don't stop, please,” Steve's voice barely there, fucked out and hoarse, body going limp as he whines at the delicious overstimulation.

“Oh yeah, pretty boy? Want me to-” Billy gasps as he can barely manage words as he slams hard against Steve's worn ass, desperately clenching around him, and he stands up fully, plants his feet and digs his nails into fleshy hips. “-Want me to use you? Like a fucking toy?”

“Yes! Yes, Billy, fuck me-”

The wet slapping of skin in perfect harmony with Steve moaning a whole ballad, brings Billy to his blinding climax, forcing a stutter to his hips as he slams home hard enough for Steve to move up the bed, and he calls out with no restraint as his throbbing cock pulsates and kicks; draining him of all heat and energy into the condom buried deep in Steve's desirous hole.

As adrenaline seeps out, exhaustion comes in and he slumps forward, shoving at Steve's shoulder to keep him in place as he twitches and goes soft. Chest heaving, curls sticking to his neck and forehead, thighs sore from a good days work. He rubs the space between Steve's shoulder blades with a firm thumb, who hums pleasantly between equally exhausted pants.

But Billy has to pull out, takes off the condom and ties it neatly, before collapsing next to Steve on the bed.

And Steve rolls on to his side, rests his warm palm on sweaty pecks, smiling all satisfied and admiring the view of Billy's spent dick. “You did good, tiger... think you can go another round?”

Billy snorts abruptly – he can barely keep his eyes open right now. “Are you serious?”

Steve climbs right on top of him, landing with his own impressive cock side by side with Billy's vastly shorter, but definitely thicker, dick. He rocks back and forth all lazy like, sighing with a definite promise of more.

But Billy winces with a sharp inhale and reaches down to stop the motion of those pale hips on top. “Fuck- stop! I'm spent, go find some other hole to fulfill your needs.”

“Hmm...” Steve thinks about something, but climbs off never the less. “I'm gonna give you fifteen minutes, and if you're still to weak after that I can easily find someone else.”

He's quick to get dressed again, leaving Billy to feel, yes, weak and perhaps a bit piteous, sprawled out on King Steve's bed, a mess of sweat next to a pool of semen, yet Steve steps up to him and leans down.

“But,” he coos softly and smiles just so, “If you ever want to do this again, or something else, I can make room for you in my busy schedule.”

And Steve kisses Billy on the lips, making the poorer guy immediately desire more, but as Steve pulls away again, Billy continues to feel defeated and impossibly exhausted.

The last thing he notices before dozing off is the bedroom door closing.

#Harringrove #Lemon #My Writing #request #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Anonymous

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Trouble

Member: The Rich Man’s Crochet Club!Hoseok

Header by: @underthejoon aka the best

Prompt: How Hoseok lost his virginity. Based off this line in the fic: “That’s the whole point,” Hoseok explains, dropping a wink which makes Namjoon groan. “That’s how I lost my virginity, you know. I scored the winning run in a championship game and that night, Tiffany something-or-other jumped me in a dirty frat bathroom. It was…” Hoseok pauses for effect. “Heavenly.”

Rating: 18+

Warnings: semi-public bathroom sex, Hoseok is a virgin, fingering, who-the-fuck-knows-when-this-bathroom-was-last-cleaned

WC: 4,110

A/N: This one shot is told in second person (with Y/N). This is not the same Y/N from Rich Man’s Crochet Club (i.e., Namjoon’s Y/N).

↳ part of my 30K milestone drabble game

Jung Hoseok is tipsy.

This is not the first time Hoseok has been tipsy, nor will it be the last, but this time is unique in that he has paid for nothing this entire evening. Since his arrival at the party, free drink after free drink has been pressed into his hand. This, accompanied by cheers of, “CONGRATS, ROOKIE!”

Hoseok is not a rookie on the kickball team – not by far – but this the first time upperclassmen have deigned to acknowledge his existence. He supposes this is what comes of scoring the game-winning run. A slow buzz of pride tinges his thoughts, mixing into the warm musk of alcohol.

“HOE-SUCCC!” hoots Jungkook, slinging an arm around his neck. Sipping on his beer – bought at the door – Jungkook eyes the crowd. “So, who’re you going home with tonight?”

Hoseok sputters, turning red above the collar. “What’re you talking about?” he mutters, shoving Jungkook’s arm off. “The club’s still got five members, remember?”

The Rich Man’s Crochet Club – don’t ask about the name – also known as their esteemed group of friends who happen to be virgins. Recently, their number has dwindled from seven to five. Taehyung was the first to lose his virginity, shacking up with some girl last semester and becoming virtually married. Seokjin was next, which came as a surprise to everyone but him.

Now, only five remain. Idly, Hoseok sips his drink and wishes one of the others had come to the party. None are on the kickball team though, leaving him alone with Jungkook. Not that Jungkook is not great, but while he talks a big game, he has yet to have sex himself. Not for lack of options, it might be noted. Jungkook keeps saying he is waiting – although Hoseok has no idea what for.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook glances around. “Tonight could be the night, man. Endorphins are high, drinks are flowing and every girl within a ten-foot radius is eye-fucking you silly.”

Hoseok nearly spits out his drink. “They are not,” he coughs, wiping his mouth with one hand.

Jungkook’s grin broadens. “I may be drunk, but I’m not blind.”

Subtly, Hoseok glances around and – to his utter surprise – finds Jungkook is correct. Multiple girls smile, one waves and several giggle before turning back to their friends. Hiding his shock, Hoseok quickly returns to Jungkook.

Being blunt, Hoseok is not the type to romanticize his first time. Maybe when he was in high school and there was someone to care about – but not now. Not when Hoseok is single, crushing on no one and just wanting to get laid. Multiple times, he has been close but somehow, Hoseok has always managed to psych himself out.

Draining the rest of his cup, Hoseok tosses this into the trash. Pushing himself off the counter, he nods when a teammate of theirs passes.

“That run!” cries Ric, nearly dumping his drink as he mimes the kick. “Man, whatta game, huh? Jung, if you don’t get your dick wet to-NIGHT!”

Wincing, Hoseok’s cheeks are practically scarlet. Multiple people overheard the remark, laughing and whispering when he whirls to face Jungkook. “I can’t do this,” says Hoseok in a panic. “I have to get out of here. Why is everyone assuming I’m gonna hook up, I –”

“Hey, you’re Hoseok, right?”

Hoseok freezes in place. The voice is entirely unfamiliar – new, bright and standing directly behind him. Slowly, Hoseok turns around.

His eyes widen. You are standing before him – short, smiling and fuck, are you cute.

“I – uh, yeah.” Discreetly, Hoseok wipes his hands on his pants. “That’s me. And you are?”

Your smile widens. “Let’s leave my name out of this for now.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows shoot up. “Um. Okay.”

Arching a brow, you look towards the dance floor. “Wanna dance?”

Heart pounding, Hoseok is about to decline – you are clearly way too hot for him – when Jungkook coughs and leans in. Pretending to pour himself more vodka, he mutters in Hoseok’s ear. “Stop freaking out,” he says lowly. “Just go dance.”

Hoseok exhales. Jungkook is right, after all – this is just dancing. The portion of the night Hoseok is good at. Forcing himself to smile, Hoseok nods. “Yeah,” he agrees, stepping forward. “That sounds like fun.”

Smiling flirtatiously, you grab his hand and lead him through the crowd. Hoseok swallows and follows, forcing his nerves into his stomach. The music is louder at the front of the house, everyone dancing as they twist to the bass. When you reach the front, you turn to face Hoseok. A giant speaker to your right is blaring, making it difficult to hear.

“How do you like to dance?” you yell, in order to be heard over the music.

Hoseok’s brow furrows. “What?”

“HOW DO YOU DA – oh, never mind,” you laugh, turning around and placing his hands on your hips.

Hoseok swallows, freezing when you press your ass to his front. Luckily, when you begin to move, twisting around to the beat, his natural instincts kick in. Hell, Hoseok was not captain of his high school dance crew for nothing. Sliding a hand over your waist, he grasps your other hand with his. Slowly moving his hips, Hoseok drapes your arm over his neck.

Exhaling, you lean back on his chest. The song is practically indecipherable, but that hardly matters – the song is not the point of this dance. All Hoseok needs is this; his hands on your body, your hips moving with his and his breath on your skin.

Losing himself in the downbeat, Hoseok grasps your waist tighter. When the tempo changes, you lean forward and – fuck, fuck, fuck – place your hands on both knees. Glancing over your shoulder at him, your lips quirk as you grind your ass on his crotch.

Swearing under his breath, Hoseok quickly grasps your waist in an attempt to hold on. If you keep this up, he is going to pop a boner in front of the entire kickball team. Snaking back up, you turn around in his arms and Hoseok pulls you in.

“You’re trouble,” he chuckles, not letting go.

Your hair is a bit sweaty, skin smelling citrusy and sweet. Grinning widely, you dance closer. “Why don’t you call me that tonight?” you tease, lips brushing his ear. “Trouble.”

“Done,” Hoseok grunts, hands cupping your waist.

Your body moves so easily with his, coming alive at his slightest suggestion. It makes his head spin, makes him want more in the worst kind of way.

Sliding your arms around his neck, you move closer. “So. Everyone is saying you’re kind of a big deal tonight.”

Hoseok suppresses a smile. “That’s a matter of opinion, I guess.”

“Oh? What’s yours?”

“That what’s going on right now is way better than what happened during the game.”

Eyes gleaming, you smile. “Good answer.”

“I try.”

“Huh.” Glancing over his shoulder, you scan the dance floor. “Can I tell you a secret, Hoseok?”

“Are you gonna tell me where the body is?”

“No,” you laugh. “Nothing like that.” Lifting on your toes, you press your lips to his ear. “I don’t actually go here.”

“Oh?” Hoseok turns his head. Your lips are so close to his.

You slowly shake your head no. “I’m an upperclassman at St. Martin’s, actually. My friend goes here. She’s the one who invited me to this party – and then promptly abandoned me for your pitcher.”

St. Martins – the kickball team Hoseok demolished earlier this evening. Lifting a brow, Hoseok smirks. “So, you asked me to dance to pass the time, huh? I don’t know if I’m insulted or flattered.”

“Be flattered.” Still staring, you lick your lips. “I saw you during the game. You seemed like you, uh… knew what you were doing out there on that field.”

Hoseok’s stomach sinks. That may be true for kickball, but for what you are implying is woefully inaccurate. Before he can say anything more, you lean up again.

“Wanna take a tour of the house?”

Hoseok inhales, nearly choking on his spit but luckily, this proves to be his saving grace. Taking this as a yes, your grin broadens, and you take his hand in yours. Hoseok allows himself to be pulled through the crowd, staring hard at your ass and thanking whatever lucky stars have aligned here tonight.

People are dancing throughout most of the first floor. You bypass all of them, coming to a stop at the staircase. Glancing over your shoulder, you raise a brow. “First floor seems crowded. Wanna look at the second?”

“Do you…” Dropping his voice, Hoseok leans in. “Do you know someone who lives here, or something?”

“Nope.” Meeting his gaze, you shrug. “Does that bother you?”

This is the moment Hoseok realizes he has no qualms about any of this. Having sex for the first time at a frat house – not his frat house – in the room of a stranger, with you. Zero reservations.

“Not at all,” he grins, nodding at the stairs. “Lead the way.”

With a laugh, you continue, tugging him up the staircase. The next floor is quieter, distant bass muffled through the floorboards they proceed. A few doorways are shut, laughter coming from behind them. Hoseok’s cheeks heat as you walk down the corridor, coming to a stop at the end.

You reach out, placing a hand on a doorknob and pushing. An unlit bathroom awaits – cleaner than Hoseok expected, but still nothing to speak of.

Glancing backwards, you cock a brow. “Wanna explore this room?”

Heart pounding, Hoseok stares past you. His hands are sweaty, limbs weak and he is five seconds from running away – when you step forward and kiss him.

Your lips part, tongue flicking with his and Hoseok stills for a moment before he finally melts. Hands sliding up your waist, he loses himself in the taste of vodka and mint. Hands twining slow in your hair, he has you up against the wall before he knows what he is doing. Knee wedged between yours, hips grinding together until you break away, panting.

“Fuck it,” Hoseok gasps, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the bathroom.

You shut the door as you enter, pushing Hoseok to the wall and resuming where you left off. He groans, the noise slipping out with an eagerness which betrays him. You do not seem to mind. If anything, you kiss him harder, one hand sliding down his leg to cup between his thighs.

“Fuck,” Hoseok growls, biting down on your lip. “You really are trouble, aren’t you?”

Breaking away, you grin. “I’ve heard that once or twice.”

Hoseok jerks his head. “Up on the sink.”

Cocking a brow, you obey. Grasping the sides of your shirt, you lift this overhead to fall on the floor. When you see Hoseok’s jaw drop, you turn and hop up on the counter. “Now, what?” you say, loosely swinging your legs.

Hoseok stalks forward – all one and a half steps it takes to reach you. Frantic, he tears his shirt overhead and, grasping your chin, kisses you soundly. Fingers sliding along your jaw, he cups the back of your head to open your mouth with his. Hoseok’s other hand falls between your legs, searching until he feels how wet you are. Even through your jeans, the material is damp.

“Shit,” Hoseok mutters, looking down. “You’re already wet?”

Staring at him, you spread your legs wider. “Mhm.” Turning your head, you close your lips over his finger. Staring at Hoseok, you suck – hard. The motion goes straight to his cock. “Take off your pants,” you exhale, letting him fall from your mouth.

Hoseok does not hesitate, hand dropping to his belt and frantically undoing his buckle. His dick feels unbearably hard, pressed to his jeans in a pure form of torture. Reaching down, your hand replaces his as you begin to undo his buttons.

Suddenly, he panics because there is no going back from this moment. “Okay,” Hoseok blurts, placing his hand over yours. Paused in your motions, you look up. “Before we go any further… I feel like I have to tell you something.”

Instantly, you turn wary. “Um, okay. Is this about your penis?”

Hoseok stares. “Huh?”

“I mean, like, does it curve upwards?” You mime this with your fist. “Or, like – do you have a micro? Because that’s cool, you know. We can make it work. Oh!” you blurt knowingly. “Is this a kink thing? Like, you need to see my feet in order to get hard?”

“No – no!” Hoseok blinks, horrified. One of your shoes is off, falling to the ground before he can stop you. “None of those things! God.”

Lips twitching, you scoot towards the end of the counter. “Okay,” you shrug, running a hand down his chest. Hoseok shivers a little in response. “Then, what’s the problem?”

Closing his eyes, Hoseok takes a deep breath and wishes he could melt into the floor. “I’mavirgin,” he mutters.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m a virgin.” His eyes pop open. “I, uh, haven’t had sex before.”

“Oh.” You pause, considering. “Is that all?”

“Is that… all?” Hoseok blinks. “You don’t care?”

“Um, no. Oh – wait.” Wincing, you lean back. “Am I supposed to care? Should I be more… gentle, or something? Sorry. Do you, uh… want to find a bed to have sex on?”

Hoseok’s lips twitch. Before he can stop himself, he begins to laugh. Body shaking, Hoseok steps forward and drags a hand up your thigh. “Nah,” he murmurs, lips hovering over yours. “I’m good with this if you are.”

“I’m good,” you breathe, hands sliding around his neck. “Do you have a condom?”

“Yeah.” Hoseok turns to fish this out of his pants. He places this beside you on the counter. “Been carrying that around with me for months. You know, be prepared.”

“What a boy scout,” you exhale, scooting closer.

Hoseok kisses you again, softer this time. It is not a conscious decision, but somehow it feels right. Even though this is a one-night thing, cannot and will not go anywhere, Hoseok still feels the gravity of the moment. He is leaving a part of himself behind. You are the one he is sharing that with.

Continuing to kiss, your hand falls between your thighs. Cupping his dick with one hand, you slowly stroke up and down. “Nothing micro about that,” you tease, breathlessly pushing closer.

Hoseok snorts, thrusting into your palm. “God, I hope not.”

Kissing you eagerly, his hands slide around your ribcage to find the clasp of your bra. Thankfully, this is one area in which Hoseok is adept and before long, your bra is undone in his hands. Sliding back to your front, Hoseok cups your breasts, playing with your nipples until they are hard. You inhale, arching upwards with the sweetest of moans.

Rolling his hips, Hoseok grasps your knee to hook around his waist.

“Hoseok,” you whimper, burying your face in his neck. Your voice is barely recognizable, thick with desire. “Touch me.”

Reaching down, Hoseok fumbles with your zipper until your jeans are open before him. With your help, he pushes these down your thighs and onto the floor. Spreading your legs with one hand, he gently cups your sex.

“Oh,” you gasp, grabbing his biceps.

Hoseok stares, pulling your panties aside to sink a finger into your wet core. Gaze darkening, you stare as your lips form a silent o. Hoseok begins to finger you, thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit as he slides in and out.

He can feel how receptive you are, body twitching with each brush of his thumb. “Fuck, Hoseok,” you moan, leaning your head to the mirror. Spreading your legs, you grant him a better view of his fingers sliding into your cunt.

All the blood in Hoseok’s body rushes straight to his dick. His cock twitches uncomfortably against the confines of his boxers, pants still half-undone and hanging just off his ass. Your chest rises and falls, hips pushing against the motion until it suddenly becomes too much.

“Okay,” you pant, shutting your legs on his hand. Hoseok stills. “These have to go,” you gripe, reaching out for his boxers. Tugging them down with his jeans, Hoseok’s cock springs up to slap his abs. “I need you inside me.”

“Oh,” Hoseok says, licking his lips. No one has ever spoken to him like this and god, does he like it.

Hopping down from the counter, you turn to rest your hands on the sink. “Well?” you say, looking over your shoulder. “Is this good?”

Wriggling your ass, you sink down on your elbows, pussy on full display. Hoseok stares, wondering dizzily how in hell he is going to last. Steeling himself, he reaches out to grab the condom from the counter. Shoving his jeans to the floor, Hoseok breaks open the packet and rolls it onto himself.

Positioning himself at your center, Hoseok cannot help himself from sliding up and down a few times. Your body is just so warm and wet, inviting him in. With a moan, you duck your head and push back. “Please,” you beg. “Please, Hobi.”

Hearing the nickname, Hoseok arches a brow and grasping your waist, he slips in. “Fuck,” he gasps, stopping out of necessity.

It is nothing at all like his hand. Even when he uses lube, even when he sits on his hand until it falls asleep – this is so much fucking better than that. Your pussy is so warm, so wet, enveloping him with every inch.

“Oh, my fucking god,” Hoseok chokes out, pushing into you again.

You remain still, watching his face in the mirror. Hoseok realizes this when he looks up and meets your gaze.

Staring at him, your lips curl in a smile. “You like it?” you breathe when he bottoms out.

Hoseok cannot move for a second, hips flush to yours. He exhales, mind spinning from the unbelievable sensation of wholeness. Buried in you to the hilt, he wants nothing more than to stay – except. The feeling of pushing inside you was so fucking good. Meeting your gaze in the mirror, Hoseok slowly slides out.

“Yeah,” he breathes, thrusting in just as slow.

Breath catching, you arch your back and shut your eyes.

Grip tightening, Hoseok slides in again and marvels at how similar this is to dance. Each time he thrusts, your body clenches around him. Hoseok carefully watches, trying different angles until he finds one that makes your thighs shake.

“Oh,” you gasp, hand slipping a little on the sink.

Hoseok pauses, tilting his head and thrusting again – harder. The same thing happens, your face twisting with pleasure while he stares in the mirror. Smirking, Hoseok grabs hold of your waist and finally lets himself go.

That sweet mouth of yours falls open, moaning obscenities when Hoseok begins to fuck you. He thrusts into you roughly, cock rock-hard as his hands grip your ass, trying not to slip out. Managing to keep a steady rhythm, Hoseok forces himself not to be a pig and remember your pleasure.

Leaning down, his hand dips in a search for your clit. You help, grabbing his hand to guide him even lower. When Hoseok circles the swollen bud with his thumb, he feels your walls clench around him. Wanting more of that, Hoseok begins to move faster. It is all so much. Your body is so responsive, so wet and hot and his hips have a fucking mind of their own.

Before Hoseok can stop himself, he realizes he is in danger of coming. “Fuck,” he gasps, hand falling to your waist as he tries to control himself. “Fuck, fuck – I’m gonna come. I –”

The orgasm takes over before he can stop himself, releasing into his condom in several short, sloppy thrusts. Hoseok shudders, head dropping as the most intense orgasm of his life wrings him dry. Slowly, Hoseok exhales and looks up in the mirror.

Hair falling into your gaze, you grin – equally fucked out and breathless. “So,” you manage. “How was your first time?”

Even with his cock softening inside you, Hoseok’s gaze narrows.

Pulling himself from your body, he quickly replaces his softening cock with his fingers. Your smile abruptly disappears. “It’s not over yet,” he murmurs, watching you in the mirror. “I don’t think you’ve come yet.”

Lips parting, you try and laugh – which turns into a moan when Hoseok scissors his fingers. “I – Hoseok,” you stutter. “Y-you don’t have to.”

Ignoring this, Hoseok steps closer. Leaning forward, he places a hand on the counter. “Wanna make you feel good,” he says, dropping a kiss to your shoulder. Between your thighs, he slowly slides out – only to snap his wrist forward.

You groan, legs buckling as his fingers repeatedly fill you. Hoseok grasps your waist, pulling you backwards and keeping you still. His hand travels lower, tracing circles around your already swollen clit. Eyes fluttering, your lips part when Hoseok begins to finger-fuck you harder. He can feel you squeezing around him, ass pushing back on his hand at the thrust of his fingers.

It is his hand at your front though, which pushes you over the edge. You abruptly seize, grasping his hand when your body gives in. “Fuck!” you gasp, collapsing forward. Hoseok slows his movement, feeling your pussy pulse around him as your own orgasm claims you. “God.”

Slumping, you pant in relief when his fingers slide from your core. Hoseok stays there for a moment, he cannot help himself – sliding his fingers slowly up your slick, he lazily enjoys the feel.

Turning, you look at him over your shoulder. “Holy shit,” you say, fighting a smile.

Without though, Hoseok pulls back and pushes a hand through his hair – shit. He is definitely going to need a shower when he gets home. “Yeah,” he groans, meeting your gaze. “Holy shit is right.”

Grinning, you bend to grab your bra from the floor. Sliding your arms through the straps, you begin to re-dress. Hoseok turns around, searching for his boxers to follow suit.

“That was, uh…” Shaking his head, Hoseok wonders what he should say.

Small talk seems crude right now. Thanking you seems formal but saying you should do it again would be a lie. He knows you did not come here tonight for that and truthfully, he barely knows you. Tugging off his condom, Hoseok throws this in the trash and pulls up his boxers.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you laugh at his expression. Wriggling your panties in place, you reach out for your jeans. “That was really fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree, tugging your shirt down your torso. “I mean, once you’ve had a little more practice…” Pausing your changing, you give Hoseok a look. “The girls on this campus won’t know what hit them. I mean – they will know. It’ll be your fat dick.”

Hoseok nearly chokes at the thought. “Yeah?”

“Well… above average. But fuck, do you know what to do with it.”

Snorting, Hoseok pulls his shirt overhead. “Hey, I’ll take it.”

Fluffing your hair, you make your way towards the door. Hoseok watches you go, still feeling as though he is missing out on something. You do not seem upset, nor like you want to linger and honestly, this is what you both signed up for. This was a quick fuck in a bathroom, nothing more.

Still, your hand pauses on the doorknob.

“Are you really not going to tell me your name?” Hoseok asks, curious. You really are not like anyone he has ever met.

You hesitate, then glance over your shoulder. “You can call me Tiffany,” you say, flashing a grin which makes Hoseok about fifty percent sure you are bullshitting him. Pulling open the door, you step into the hall. “Thanks, Hoseok!”

“Thanks, Tiffany.” Crossing one ankle over the other, Hoseok leans against the wall. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

Normally, he would not be so bold but right now, Hoseok is feeling pretty fucking good. On top of the world might be one way to describe it.

Arching a brow, you seem to be fighting back laughter. “If it’s meant to be,” you allow. With a wave of your hand, you disappear down the hall. “They say you never forget your first, Hoseok! Let my legacy live on, okay?”

Hoseok stares after you, waiting a moment before shaking his head. Reaching down, he fishes his phone from his jeans and pulls up the chat.

Hoseok: club is just four now, gentlemen [11:48 PM]

Shoving his phone back in his pants, Hoseok runs the same hand through his hair and exits the bathroom.

[ RMCC Master List ]

#bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #btsbookclub #hoseok smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #hoseok college #bts college #hoseok fanfic

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

Text

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Four

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Four

Clary, it turned out, was very good at Land Mines. But so was Izzy. It only took a couple rounds for them to admit they played the game all the time, and a couple more rounds (both of which the Lightwoods lost) for Izzy to drunkenly (and loudly) explain that she thought it was hot when Clary got competitive.

Jace told her he didn’t want to hear about it, and he hoped he wasn’t tipsy enough for her to notice what a hypocrite he was in saying it. Because competitive Simon? Was so hot. And Simon was pretty much hot all the time, even when he was annoying the hell out of Jace, but Simon going all-out trying to prove himself, and doing it every damned time, was something else. It didn’t help that right now he was doing it dressed in a tighter than usual t-shirt that proclaimed him a “Jedi in the streets, Sith in the sheets” that Clary (who most definitely noticed Jace’s appreciation of how tight the shirt was) gleefully informed Jace had been a present from her.

“Another win for Team Fray-Lewis,” Simon proclaimed as his coin spun to a stop without touching any of the glasses on the table. He and Clary bumped fists without even looking at each other, and Simon flashed Jace a smug grin that did things to him. “Let’s see you top that, hotshot.”

Jace returned a cocky grin of his own. “You should know better by now than to question my skills.”

Thankfully for Jace’s ego, and his liver, his own spin came tumbling to rest right before hitting a double-size shot glass of tequila. The same shot glass Clary’s coin hit moments later.

Clary winced. “Sorry, Si.”

“All right,” Simon said, narrowing his eyes. “All right.” He downed his shot and licked the excess from his lips in a way that Jace found very distracting. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Simon was doing it on purpose. “We’ve still got this.”

“Damn right we do,” Clary agreed, knocking back her own shot and then grabbing Izzy for a messy kiss. “A kiss for luck,” she announced.

“I’m not even on your team, silly,” Izzy giggled.

By the time they finished the game, Jace and Izzy having only just squeaked by with a win, the party was in full swing, and Jace was feeling pleasantly buzzed. With several hours left to go until midnight, he decided to pass on the cocktail Magnus offered him in favor of plain soda. As much as he’d joked about hangovers, that was the last way he wanted to start the new year, especially since he had plans with Alec and Magnus the next day, and they both seemed to be somehow magically immune to hangovers.

Jace let himself get swept up in the atmosphere of the party: dancing, joking with his siblings, getting into an inane argument with Magnus’s friend Ragnor about which of Scott Joplin’s works was most influential. And somehow, he always managed to find himself back by Simon’s side. He should have been doing it as part of keeping up the appearance of being his boyfriend, but it was less that he was intentionally trying to spend time around Simon and more that he was allowing himself not to not be around Simon. The realization should have annoyed him, but somehow it didn’t.

Especially since Simon seemed just as drawn to his side. Which was probably Simon keeping up appearances, since he’d proven himself to be incredibly good at it so far. It was almost comfortable. Right up until it was something else entirely.

Jace and Simon had been chatting with Dot—a friend of Magnus’s who’d apparently been a neighbor of Clary’s and Simon’s when they were kids—when Clary, who had clearly not stopped drinking after their game, interrupted by throwing her arms over Jace and Dot’s shoulders. “You guys should come dance with me,” she told them. “Izzy’s busy talking to Magnus about shoes, and I wanna dance, and you guys are like three of my very favorite people who aren’t Izzy, so I want you to dance with me.”

“Of course,” Dot laughed, wrapping an arm around Clary’s waist and twirling her toward the makeshift dance floor Magnus and Alec had made in their living room.

“You guys, come on!” Clary called over her shoulder, tripping and nearly falling before Dot caught her and turned it into a shaky dip.

Simon looked at Jace and offered his hand. “There’s really no point in arguing. She’s even more stubborn drunk than she is sober.”

“That’s a terrifying thought,” Jace said, taking Simon’s hand and following him onto the dance floor.

Jace lost track of how long they spent dancing, first with Clary and Dot, switching partners every few minutes at Clary’s enthusiastic insistence, and then just with each other after Izzy reappeared and Clary abandoned them to go cling to her girlfriend like some kind of hyper-affectionate koala.

“I honestly can’t believe she’s still standing,” Simon said. “She’s had at least three margaritas since we finished our game, and I didn’t even want to think about drinking after that many shots.”

“She was probably consoling herself after you guys lost so badly,” Jace said, moving closer than the music or space strictly demanded. “I wouldn’t know what it’s like, but losing sure seems like it would suck.”

“Uh huh,” Simon said. “Because you winning by a single shot was so very impressive.”

“It really was,” Jace agreed.

The music made a surprisingly smooth transition from pounding bass to Duke Ellington, and Simon grabbed Jace’s hand to pull him into some kind of swing dance that Jace was not at all familiar with.

“Really?” Simon asked with obvious relish. “You don’t know how to Lindy Hop?”

“I’m not an old man or terminally nerdy, so no,” Jace answered, not quite managing to follow Simon’s steps, but not making a complete fool out of himself either. He supposed that was one good thing to come out of that ridiculous mandatory high school PE swing dance unit.

“So, are you calling Magnus old or a nerd?” Simon asked, nodding to the other side of the dance floor, where Magnus was twirling Dot like they were both professional dancers.

“Magnus is a special case,” Jace said.

“Because your brother would murder you in your sleep for saying anything bad about him?” Simon suggested.

Jace snorted a laugh. “I plead the fifth.”

“You know what I think?” Simon asked, doing a rock-step then smoothly maneuvering Jace into a gentle twirl.

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” Jace said.

“I think you just don’t know how to deal with not being good at something. So you’re an ass about anything you aren’t good at.”

“Nah,” Jace said, attempting to mimic Simon’s earlier move and managing to awkwardly spin him into a twirl of his own. “You just always react so well when I’m an ass to you that I can’t resist doing it.”

“Ah, got it. So you’re basically saying you never matured past middle school.”

“You’re one to talk about maturity. Do I need to remind you that the first thing you did when I introduced you to my sister was ask to see her Lego collection?”

“In my defense,” Simon said, “I was trying to save us all from probable food poisoning.” He executed another twirl, this time one that ended with his arms wrapped around Jace from behind, which Jace definitely felt no way at all about. “Also, it was a really great Lego collection.”

The music changed again, back to a modern club beat, and Jace felt some of the tension leave his body. This was the kind of music he knew how to dance to. And maybe there was just the tiniest bit of truth to what Simon had said about him not knowing how to be bad at things.

It was just natural and not at all pettiness over Simon being right that had him rolling his hips with the beat of the new song, which just consequently happened to grind his ass back against Simon’s crotch. And, okay, there was maybe just the tiniest bit of satisfaction in hearing Simon’s sharp intake of breath.

“Just try not to do that when someone you’re actually dating brings you home for the first time.”

Jace wasn’t entirely sure how to identify what he felt when Simon leaned forward to speak directly in his ear. “And what do you think I should have done?” Simon’s breath was hot against his skin. “If we were actually dating?”

Jace spun around to face him. “If we were actually dating, Alec would have been on his own defending dinner from Izzy, because I wouldn’t have taken you back downstairs until I was done very thoroughly showing you my bedroom.”

It came out sounding much less like a joke than he intended, the truth behind his words bleeding through his shaky bravado. And he knew Simon heard it, could see it in the soft surprise of his parted lips, could feel it in the faint tremor of the hand he still held.

“I guess,” Simon said, tongue darting out to wet his lips, drawing Jace’s eyes, “it’s a good thing for our digestive systems that we weren’t actually dating.”

This had been a mistake. Dancing with Simon like this, touching him like this. Inviting him to the party in the first place. This whole damned fake dating plan. Jace wanted desperately to lean in and trace the path of Simon’s tongue with his own.

“I don’t know,” he said instead. “I think it probably would have been worth it.”

They weren’t even pretending to dance now, Simon standing stock still, watching him as if trying to puzzle him out. Finally, he took a step back, loosening his hold. “Jace—”

“Attention, dearest friends and tolerated acquaintances!” Magnus’s voice rang through the loft as the music came to a sudden halt. Jace stayed as he was, unwilling to bring himself to let go of Simon entirely, unable to look away, and Simon seemingly similarly caught.

“We have invited you here this evening to help us ring in the new year, which, if you direct your attention to the clock right over there, you will see is now a mere thirty seconds away. So, grab your drink, grab your sweetie—or an attractive stranger, I won’t judge—and get ready to count down to a brand new year!”

Jace barely noticed as the countdown began around him, focused as he was on Simon. He only really caught on to what was happening when Simon’s lips began to move, softly counting down with the crowd even as his eyes never left Jace’s.

Jace had plenty of time to think through what he was about to do, with enough left over to second- and third-guess himself. Some people might have said thirty seconds wasn’t long enough to make a reasoned choice, but for someone like Jace, who made an art out of making impulsive, split-second decisions, thirty seconds was practically an eternity. He watched Simon’s lips form the final count of “one,” heard the crowd around them erupt into shouts of “Happy New Year!” and then he was surging forward.

Simon met him halfway, the kiss bruising and desperate. Jace was dimly aware of people around him laughing and cheering, but his entire world was narrowed down to this one moment, to this kiss. If their previous kisses had been chaste and family-appropriate, this was anything but. Simon kissed like he wanted to crawl inside Jace, one hand on the small of his back, pulling him close, the other tangled in his hair. Jace kind of wanted Simon to crawl inside him.

When Simon finally broke the kiss, Jace had to hold himself back from chasing his swollen, spit-slick lips. But whatever Simon saw when he looked at Jace had him muttering a soft “shit” before diving back in for more, so Jace considered it an all-around win.

Jace licked into Simon’s mouth, sliding the fingers of one hand under the hem of his shirt enough to trace along the waistband of his jeans, just above his hip. Simon shuddered and made a soft, desperate sound, and Jace made it his mission to elicit more of those sounds, to drive Simon just as crazy as those sounds were driving him.

When they broke the kiss for the second time, it was prompted by a sharp whistle that Jace would have recognized anywhere as Izzy’s followed by a cheer of, “Yeah, get it, Simon!” from Clary.

Simon looked slightly embarrassed at just how carried away they’d managed to get in the middle of a party, but Jace just smirked and threw a wink at his sister and her girlfriend.

A quick look around showed that, despite Izzy and Clary’s very loud attention, most of the partygoers were too involved in their own celebrations to be paying much attention to Jace and Simon, although it also seemed like the rest of them had long since finished up their celebratory kisses. The only other people paying them any attention at all were Magnus and Alec, who were standing nearby.

Alec wore the look of long-suffering fondness he often wore around Jace. “Please don’t have sex in my living room,” he said when he caught Jace’s eye.

“We weren’t—” Simon spluttered. “We wouldn’t—”

“At least use the guest room like civilized people,” Magnus added. Much less fondly, Jace thought.

“Oh god,” Simon muttered as Magnus swept off to speak with other guests, Alec in tow. “I’m never going to live this down. Fray is going to be teasing me about this until the day I die. And I think your brother hates me now.”

“Alec doesn’t hate you,” Jace said. “You would know if Alec hated you; he is not subtle. I’m sure he considers this one-hundred percent my fault.”

“Okay, but Magnus definitely hates me.”

“Dude,” Jace said, squeezing Simon’s shoulder, “Magnus doesn’t hate you, either. He wouldn’t have offered us his guest room if he hated you.”

Simon gave him a flat look. “Pretty sure he didn’t actually intend for us to use the guest room. We’d have to have basically no shame to just ditch the party and run off to the guest room to have sex after Clary and Izzy drew so much attention to us making out like horny teenagers in public.”

“You’ve known me how long, and you still operate under the misapprehension that I’m capable of shame?” Jace teased.

Except. Except he was only half-teasing, because he would absolutely ditch this party to go have sex with Simon in the guest room if he thought Simon was even a little bit interested in that. Hell, he’d ditch the party to have sex with Simon in the fucking closet.

And he was pretty sure Simon knew it, because Simon was staring at him again, with that same intensity he had right before they’d kissed. Jace smirked and very deliberately ran a tongue over his lower lip.

“I hate you,” Simon said without heat before dragging Jace into a quick, filthy kiss. “Where’s the guest room?”

Jace didn’t answer, just grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the hallway that led to the guest suite.

It took them several minutes to actually make it into the guest room because Jace decided halfway there that he kind of desperately needed to be kissing Simon again. It was like a dam had broken, and now that he was allowed to kiss Simon, really kiss him, he couldn’t seem to stop. But that was okay, because Simon didn’t seem interested in stopping, either.

When they finally stumbled into the guest room, Jace found himself promptly pinned against the door, Simon’s body pressing against him in a long, hard line, a situation which Jace found himself more than okay with.

“This,” Simon muttered between kisses, “is probably a terrible idea.”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, sliding one leg between Simon’s leg to press against the bulge in his jeans and trying to ignore the bitter twist in his gut. “You want to stop?”

“Fuck,” Simon panted, grinding against Jace’s leg. “Really no.” He slid his hands beneath Jace’s shirt, pushing it up in a clear indication he wanted it off. “Just making sure we’re both on the same page with regard to our mutual terrible decision making.”

“You know me,” Jace said, raising his arms obligingly and helping Simon tug his shirt over his head. “Making terrible decisions with pretty people is kind of my thing.”

Jace’s shirt fell to the floor, and Simon just sort of froze for a second before reaching out and sliding his hands up Jace’s chest almost reverently. “God,” he muttered, “you are just unfairly hot.” His hands stilled suddenly, and he met Jace’s eyes, brows furrowed. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Yes, dumbass,” Jace said, reaching up to cup Simon’s face. “Did the last ten minutes not clue you in?”

“I—”

Jace silenced whatever Simon was about to say with another kiss. With as much as he was feeling right now, kissing was safer than talking. He’d probably said too much already.

He flipped them around so he was pressing Simon into the door, breaking the kiss just long enough to say, “Oh, hey, I found an effective way to make you stop talking. Should have thought of this sooner.”

“Fuck you,” Simon mumbled against his mouth.

“Maybe later,” Jace told him, tugging at Simon’s belt. “Right now I just need to get my hands on you.”

“Yeah,” Simon agreed dazedly as Jace worked open his jeans. “Yeah, okay, that sounds really—” He broke off with an almost wounded noise as Jace reached inside his boxers and wrapped a hand around his cock.

Jace kissed him again, slow and deliberate just like the hand on Simon’s cock. Jace felt back on firmer ground, now. This, sex, was something he understood, something he was good at. Slick tongues and writhing bodies were far more straightforward—far less dangerous—than feelings.

For a few strokes, Simon seemed content to just take what Jace was giving him, but then he was kissing back with almost bruising intensity and fumbling open Jace’s pants to wrap a calloused hand around his dick, and it was everything.

Jace lost track of things at that point, lost in the feel of Simon’s deft fingers around his cock, of Simon thrusting into his hand, of Simon’s mouth on his own, of Simon. And then Simon was murmuring something unintelligible against Jace’s mouth as the movement of his hips became erratic and then he was shaking apart in Jace’s arms, coming all over his hand and abdomen, and Jace thought, as he followed Simon over the edge seconds later, it might have been the hottest thing he’d ever experienced.

“Holy shit,” Simon said after they’d both caught their breath. “That actually just happened.”

Jace let out a soft huff of laughter. “You noticed, huh?” He stepped back just enough that he could see Simon’s face and was dismayed at the wariness he found there.

“I guess,” Simon said, “I should probably get cleaned up and, like. Go?”

There was a pit forming in Jace’s stomach, and he hated it.

“Alternate plan,” he offered with far more assurance than he felt. “We both get cleaned up, and then we find out how nice the sheets are on Alec and Magnus’s guest bed. I was planning to sleep here tonight anyway.” Whatever this was, Jace wasn’t ready for it to end yet.

“Oh,” Simon said on a heavy exhale. “That’s—” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to, like, intrude, or—”

He broke off as Jace took his hand, the one covered in come, and slowly and deliberately began licking it clean, eyes never leaving Simon’s. Simon watched, entranced, barely breathing.

When Jace was satisfied he’d gotten every drop, he smirked up through lowered lashes. “Simon. Come to bed with me?”

“Yeah,” Simon said breathily. “Okay. But if Magnus decides he hates me, I’m blaming you.”

“Do me a favor, and don’t talk about my future brother-in-law when I just had my hand down your pants.” Then, because it had proven such an effective way to get Simon to stop talking in the past (and definitely not for any other reason), Jace kissed him.

By the time they’d finished cleaning up and tumbled into bed, Jace was feeling loose and sleepy. He abandoned his previous, half-formed plans of getting Simon’s dick in his mouth in favor of lazy, unhurried kisses and caresses that were maybe too gentle for what this was. There would be time for blowjobs later. In the morning, maybe. After sleep, in any case.

Jace wasn’t aware of when kissing Simon in reality bled into dream.

~~~

Jace wasn’t hungover when he woke. He kind of wished he were hungover, because that would provide an explanation for why the world didn’t seem quite set straight and he felt vaguely nauseous that had nothing to do with the cold, empty bed he woke up in.

It was stupid to be upset Simon hadn’t stayed. Jace knew it was stupid. He’d known going in that it wouldn’t be more than a one-time thing. Simon had flat-out said it was a mistake. But there was a part of him that had thought—had hoped—maybe Simon would change his mind.

Telling himself he was just upset over having lost the chance for that morning blowjob he’d been planning, Jace forced himself out of bed and into the shower. The shower in Alec and Magnus’s guest suite was kind of amazing, with one of those rainfall shower heads and hot water that just never seemed to end. It helped ease some of Jace’s tension, and by the time he finished showering and pulled on some clothes, he was feeling almost back to his normal self.

Alec greeted him as he stepped out into the living room, already having claimed a spot on the couch. The room was back to its normal configuration, couch and loveseat facing a large, flat-screen TV. The coffee table held a giant plate of nachos, a bag of dry roast peanuts, and a disgustingly large tub of Red Vines.

“Welcome to the land of the living,” Alec said. “I was starting to worry you were going to miss the opening kick.”

“Please,” Jace said, flopping down onto the other couch. “I haven’t missed the opening kick of a bowl game since I was eleven, and that was only because you gave me the stomach flu.”

“Don’t blame me for that!” Alec protested. “Izzy was the one who started barfing first. If anyone brought that into the house, it was her.”

“Izzy didn’t give me big, sad puppy dog eyes and ask me to hold her hair back.”

“Hey,” Alec said, “we don’t talk about the hair, okay? Everyone makes at least one big mistake in their life, and mine was my seventh grade Zac Efron hair.”

“It’s my duty as your brother to make sure you never forget any terrible fashion choices you’ve made,” Jace said around a mouthful of nachos.

“You know that means it’s my duty as a brother to do the same for you, right?”

“You can try,” Jace said breezily, “but you and I both know I’ve never made any terrible fashion choices.”

“Two words for you,” Alec said. “Parachute pants.”

“They were on trend at the time,” Jace insisted. “My parachute pants were cool.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Jace. Parachute pants were never cool.”

Jace decided to be mature about the whole thing and chucked a Red Vine at Alec’s head. Alec ducked, then picked up the Red Vine from where it had landed on his shoulder and popped it into his mouth.

“That’s disgusting,” Jace told him. “I can’t believe you still eat those things.”

“It’s tradition,” Alec said with a shrug. “I only eat them on New Year’s. Besides, I like the sweetened wax aesthetic they’ve got going on.”

“Disgusting,” Jace repeated, pulling a Red Vine out of the tub for himself.

“Hey,” Alec said, suddenly serious, “you didn’t have to stay, you know.” When Jace just stared at him in confusion, he added, “You could have gone to Simon’s family thing with him. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Jace scoffed. “Of course I couldn’t.” He hadn’t even known Simon had a family thing today. “It’s tradition, like the Red Vines. Just because I’m dating someone and you’re about to get married doesn’t mean I’m going to flake on our New Year’s tradition.”

“Well, you should probably be prepared to make it up to your man when you get home,” Alec said. “He looked kinda upset when he left this morning.”

Jace’s earlier nausea returned suddenly, with full force. “He did?”

“Oh, don’t look like that. I’m sure he’ll get over it. The guy clearly adores you.”

“Yeah,” Jace said, pasting on a smile. “He does.”

“And I am glad you’re here,” Alec added. “I love Magnus, but he doesn’t understand football.”

“Not a fan, huh?”

“Worse,” Alec groaned. “He’s a Big Red fan. And he always gets so smug when they win.”

“And you’re sure you want to marry this guy?” Jace joked.

“Yeah,” Alec said, his whole demeanor softening. “I really am.”

“Which is a good thing, because our catering deposit is definitely non-refundable,” Magnus interjected, bringing a wings-laded plate to join the rest of the snacks on the table. “Besides, if I can get over the fact that you actually attended Columbia, you can deal with my allegiance to the clearly superior Ivy League team.”

“I’m not sure you can say you’re over it when you still say ‘Columbia’ like it’s a dirty word,” Alec observed.

“Nonsense,” Magnus said, settling onto the couch next to his fiancé. “I say dirty words with a great deal more relish. That was, in fact, an insult to dirty words.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Alec said, rolling his eyes.

“That, we can agree on.”

“If you two are done being sappy,” Jace said, grabbing the TV remote and unmuting the pre-game commentary, “there’s about to be a game on.”

They were not, it turned out, done being sappy, but their cheerful bickering was almost enough to distract Jace from having woken up alone. Almost.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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