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diaphragmjellyfish · 3 years

Text

Research

Finally wrote something again! Sorry it took so long.

How exactly do you get a dog to lose your scent? Because avoiding your werewolf boyfriend Embry was proving a lot harder than you had anticipated. Last weekend was… eventful. You guys had finally done it. Gone all the way. After 6 months of dating and an imprint bond, you both finally decided you were ready to take that next step. And you’ve only had one thought since that night.

That shit hurted.

It was borderline unbearable. The pain was searing. You lied there until Embry was done, faking moans and even faking the Big O, and you were less than eager to do it again. Were you broken? He seemed to enjoy it, so obviously you were to blame. He’d been super clingy and lovey since that night, even more so than usual, and you didn’t have the heart to be around him knowing you had faked it like that. What if he found out? He’d be crushed. What if he wanted to do it again? You couldn’t take that pain another night. What if he faked it too and was going to break up with you the next time he saw you? Yeah, no. Avoidance was the way to go.

He wanted to take you out to see a movie. You mysteriously came down with a case of allergies in the middle of winter.

He wanted to pick you up after school and give you a ride home. You had the sudden urge to join a club that was meeting after school that day.

He called, your phone was on silent.

He texted, you suddenly became illiterate.

But he kept trying. God, why was he making this so difficult?! Thoughts like this swirled through your head as you walked the long way home from school. He knew your usual route, so obviously that was out of the question. You took a path through the woods that would eventually spit you out right by the beach where you could sit and think. The forest had always felt like a second home to you. Peaceful, comfortable, private. You walked for some time before hearing twigs snapping in the distance. Probably a rabbit or something. Louder snapping. Bigger sticks. Definitely not a rabbit. You halted, waiting for the creature to pass, when a large gray wolf stalked out of the trees.

Damn.

He was wearing the softest, cutest, most “kicked puppy” look on his face that you had ever seen. Head bowed, he walked up to you slowly, whining. So he had noticed your avoidance. You held your hand out to him, petting the thick fur between his ears. He sniffed your hand, giving it a soft lick.

“Hi,” you whispered. He whined louder at this. “Embry…” you started, before he crouched down, a silent cue for you to get on his back. He waited.

Guess this was inevitable. And at least him showing up in wolf form gave you some time to think about how exactly you would explain what had happened. With another soft sigh, you climbed up on his back, holding the fur tightly as he trotted off into the trees. After about 5 minutes, you realized that he was taking you to Sam and Emily’s house. You weren’t in the mood to be around the rest of the pack right now.

“Embry, I’m kind of busy today. I don’t really have time to hang out with the pack.”

He ignored you, trotting along as if your statement was the buzz of a mosquito in his ear. When you reached the house, however, you quickly realized that no one else was there. They must all be out. It was a Friday afternoon, after all.

When you reached the lawn, Embry stopped and crouched once more so you could dismount. When you did, he ran off behind the house, walking back out several minutes later as the inky-haired boy you had grown to love. His face was full of sadness, yours full of anxiety.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said.

You silently followed him down the path that led to the cliffs, waiting for him to say something else. He never did, only kept walking. You struggled to keep up, but were too stubborn in your silence to ask him to slow down. You both finally reached the rocky cliffs jutting out over the frigid ocean. He stopped, staring out at the horizon. You paused next to him, waiting. After another several minutes of silence, you grew impatient.

“It’s supposed to snow Monday,” you said.

You waited. Silence.

“The news said they might even cancel school.”

A pause. Nothing.

“I don’t know about you, but I could definitely use a three day weeken-”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he cut you off, seeming agitated. For as long as you’d known Embry, he was never in a bad mood. Never anything but happy. Maybe sad on a few occasions, but never angry. Never frustrated. And it was making you nervous.

And now it was your turn to be silent. Yes! You wanted to say. You hurt me! But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He didn’t do it on purpose, so why would you make him feel guilty about something that was your problem and your problem alone?

“Because, if I’m counting correctly, it’s been 5 days since I’ve so much as heard from you. Barely a text back. Not a call, not a ‘hey! I’m super busy this week.’ Why are you avoiding me? I thought… after last weekend, we should be more in love than ever right?! Did it not mean anything to you?”

You remained quiet, tears pooling in your eyes. You gave no sign that you were going to respond, so he kept going.

“Just tell me where your fucking head is at, Y/N. You can’t keep brushing me off like this. Did I do something wrong? Do you regret what we did? Am I, like… not ripped enough for you or something?”

“Embry, no,” you pleaded. You could see the insecurity behind his eyes. You had to tell him what was going on, but you knew it would crush him. “It’s not that at all.”

He waited. “Then what?”

You closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your face. You wiped it away quickly before taking a deep breath. “I have been avoiding you.” You looked up at his face at this, finding tears building up in his own eyes. “I love you, Embry. But last weekend, just… I can’t do that again.”

He clenched his jaw, looking anywhere but your face and nodded. He was hurt. You definitely could have worded that better.

“Let me explain,” you pleaded. He wouldn’t look at you still, but didn’t walk away, so you kept going. “I think I might be broken or something, because that… It didn’t feel right.”

At this, he looked back at your face, switching from hurt to concerned almost immediately.

“Why would you think you’re broken?”

Another pause. “I know you would never hurt me on purpose…”

“You were in pain?” he panicked, fresh tears pricking in his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” you hurried. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that? Why would you let me keep going?!”

“I’m sorry!” you cried, causing him to walk up and embrace you. You sobbed into his chest as he pet your hair, all signs of anger gone. “You were having a good time, and I didn’t wanna ruin it, but it hurt so bad…”

“Shhhhh,” he cooed as he rocked you from side to side, letting you calm down. “It’s okay.”

After several minutes, you finally stopped crying. He didn’t falter in his embrace, only left light kisses on your forehead and cheek.

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispered into your hair.

“It’s not your fault,” you replied.

“Yes, it is. I’m supposed to take care of you. It was my job to make you feel good, and you were hurting that bad and I didn’t even notice.” You sniffled, just enjoying being in his arms. A few more minutes passed as you both calmed down.

“To be fair, I did take a drama class last semester. I’d say I put on a pretty convincing performance,” you added weakly, an attempt to lighten the mood.

He huffed a laugh, if for no other reason than to make you feel better. “Had me fooled,” he added.

You smiled, looking up at him. “I’m sorry for avoiding you.”

“It’s okay. I just wish you would have told me as soon as it started to hurt that you wanted to stop.”

“I know. I should have, I just got all in my head about it.”

“And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll never forgive myself, and I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he answered, nervously awaiting your response.

“I forgive you. And of course I still want to be with you, Embry. I love you. We just need to work on our communication skills a little bit,” you laughed.

“We do. And I’ll start. I would really love another chance to make you feel good. If you promise to be honest about how you’re feeling, I know I can do a way better job. But I understand completely if you wanna wait a while… or if you never wanna do it again. You’re in charge here.”

His words had your heart melting. He really did care about you, and you knew that if you had told him in the moment that you were in pain, he would have done anything to get you feeling good. You were always his first priority.

“I’d be willing to try again, but what we did last time didn’t work. I think we need to think of some new techniques or something,” you mumbled shyly.

“Tell you what. I’ll do some research, get some stuff, and you can come over tonight… if you want to. And we can maybe try again? And if you get there and aren’t feeling up to it, we can just watch a movie and cuddle. No pressure… I just miss you.”

You thought for a second. Worst case scenario, you’d cuddle on the couch and eat junk food. You trusted Embry completely, and if you said stop, you knew he would.

“Okay,” you replied.

__________________________________

After a long shower, some fresh makeup, and a cute-yet-comfortable outfit, you were ready to go over to Embry’s. Sure, the nerves were kicking in, but you trusted him when he said he would do some research. When you pulled up, he was already standing in the doorway smiling. You ran out and gave him a giant bear hug (or wolf hug), and he picked you up and carried you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot.

“I missed you,” he said, face buried in your hair.

“You saw me like 3 hours ago,” you giggled in response.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you all week! Gotta get my Y/N fill or I might die!”

You laughed loudly, hands threading up into his hair as he sat down on the bed with you seated in his lap.

“Yeah, yeah, just try not to crowd me,” you cheekily replied.

He raised an eyebrow before tackling you back onto the bed, tickling you like a maniac and placing playful kisses all over your face and neck.

“Like this?! Don’t crowd you like this?”

“Embry stop!” you laughed, trying to suck in a breath between his manic tickles. When he finally stopped, he was lying between your legs, one hand grasping both your wrists above your head, the other propped beside you so as to not crush you. He stared lovingly at your face before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. His grip on your arms loosened, as if to say You can stop me anytime, but you didn’t. You kissed him back, arms staying in place to tell him that you were okay.

The kisses grew slightly more heated, but Embry kept them gentle. And every time you thought he was about to take things to the next step, he’d just kiss you some more. You were growing slightly impatient, breath labored and blood pumping fast. Your stomach became slightly warm, and every time you leaned up, he’d pull away.

“You’re being mean,” you whimpered.

He just looked at you and smirked before leaning down and capturing your lips once more. You could feel your blood heat in every part of your body. From your head to your toes, you felt warm and fuzzy, yet desperate for more,,, more touch, more pressure, more Embry. Growing frustrated, you hooked your legs around his waist and tried your best to pull him closer, unintentionally grinding your hips into his. When he brushed up against your core, you let out an involuntary sigh. It actually felt nice. He smiled into the kiss, pulling his lips away from yours and dragging them down to your jaw, and then your neck, suckling and sucking and leaving light red marks that made your head spin. The hand that was holding your wrists came down behind your back and up into your hair, firmly pulling your head back to give him better access to your neck.

This movement made your entire back arch up into his body. His grip in your hair tightened slightly, lips sucking your skin up into his mouth as he nibbled, before soothing with his tongue. Your toes curled, legs pulling him impossibly closer. When he felt this, he ground his hips down into yours. The combination of his hands, lips, and weight on top of you made you let out a gasp. Your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life, pulling his shirt up in an attempt to take it off. He got the hint and sat up to remove it, being away from your body for far too long for your taste. He didn’t lower fully back down, however, instead sliding his warm hands under your shirt and onto your stomach. You sat up, taking your sweatshirt off and throwing it violently across the room. His eyes widened as they looked down at your bare chest in an almost feral fashion. He gripped your thighs, tugging you down the bed with ease, and resuming his position on top of you, hands roaming all over your torso. He cupped your breasts gently, rolling your nipples softly between his fingers. You shut your eyes and threw your head back, enjoying the sensations. His kisses trailed from your neck and down to your chest, softly. Lovingly. When he reached your nipples, his tongue poked out and licked around each of them, before taking them into his mouth and sucking. His hands continued to caress your back, and he took his sweet time switching from one breast to the other, and back again, until he felt your skin grow almost as hot as his. You were writhing underneath him, panting as your mind tried to comprehend the sensations. And his mouth, God it was so warm. You felt him kiss the undersides of your breasts, and then your stomach, and then lower…

When he reached the waistband of your leggings, he brought his hands up as if to pull them off of you. He stopped, looking up at you for permission. You gave a lazy nod Yes, and lifted your hips to help him. He pulled your underwear off as well, spreading your legs and almost salivating at the sight of your soaking pussy. Not wanting to waste another second, he once again began placing kisses on your lower stomach, and then down to your hip bones, scraping his teeth lightly against the skin, which had you shuddering. He trailed lower, to where your thighs met your core, and began to suck lightly and the soft skin there. Your clit was throbbing by now, desperate for any sort of attention. You thrust your hips up, desperate for his mouth on the place you needed him, but he only pulled your legs over his shoulders and brought his arms across your stomach to hold you in place. Your hands went to his hair in an effort to control any aspect of this situation, but the boy was strong. He teased and teased and teased, until you thought you might very well crawl out of your own skin if he didn’t properly touch you soon. Embry brought his face right up to your center and licked into your entrance, making your toes curl once more. His hands gripped your hips as he brought you as far onto his tongue as he could, nose not quite brushing where you still needed him.

“Embry…” you whimpered, about to tell him what you needed.

“I know, baby. I got you,” he spoke, as he finally brought his warm tongue to lick a firm stripe up to your clit, swirling it around and sucking the swollen nub into his mouth.

You let out a moan. A real one. Your first real one. And it only encouraged Embry, as he began to suck and lick with a steady rhythm that caused your legs to shake. You felt your stomach start to coil after several minutes of this, hands fisting Embry’s hair even tighter. It felt amazing, but that coil wouldn’t snap. He started to notice you coming down slightly, orgasm fading away, when he brought his index finger into your mouth. You sucked on instinct, before he pulled it out and brought it down to your entrance. He swirled the digit around a few times and began to push in slowly. One knuckle. Then two. And then he was fully in you. Sucking your clit into his mouth yet again, he rubbed his finger up into your front wall, massaging the ridges there.

“Oh… Embry, oh my God,” you moaned. He used more pressure, and then brought his finger out and added another, slowly pushing them in together and resuming the ‘come-hither’ motion. You felt your muscles shake, losing all control, and the coil in your stomach tightened rapidly once again, only this time, it broke. Your back arched, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a silent scream as you came hard. Waves of pleasure drove through you, hands holding his head firmly onto your center. When you came down and opened your eyes, you looked down at his face to see an excited grin.

“If you tell me that was fake, I think I’ll cry,” he chirped.

You calmed your hard breathing enough to mutter a “That was real.”

“Do you wanna keep going?” he asked.

You nodded, taking note of the obvious tent in his shorts. You reached a hand down to grasp him, when he grabbed your wrist and said “Nuh-uh, I’m still making it up to you.”

He stood up off the bed and went over to a plastic shopping bag on his desk. He opened it and pulled out a condom, some lube, and a small pink toy. Your eyes widened, and he cockily stated, “told you I’d do some research. Come here Sweetheart.” He held a hand out to help you up, and moved you so that you were on your hands and knees, bum facing him as he stood at the edge of the bed. He tore the condom packet open with his teeth and rolled it on, and then opened the bottle of lube and slathered it all over himself. He then brought what was left on his hand up to your sensitive core, distributing the substance gently. Throwing the bottle onto the floor, he lined himself up with your entrance.

“You sure you wanna keep going?” he asked. You nodded in response. “I need you to say it, babe.”

“Yes, I want to keep going, Em,” you almost cried.

“Okay, but I need you to tell me if it hurts even a little. Promise?”

“Promise.”

He grasped your hip with one hand, guiding himself in with the other. Slowly, carefully, he became fully seated inside you, giving you a moment to adjust. You felt no pain, just a delicious stretch inside your walls. When Embry saw that you were relaxed, he pulled himself out a couple of inches and softly thrusted back in, looking for any signs of discomfort. He found none, and continued. He dragged himself in and out of you at a torturous pace that made your breathing pick up yet again. You needed more. You began rocking yourself back onto him, begging for a faster pace, and he complied. He pulled out several inches more this time, shoving back in at a quicker pace that had your toes curling and your moans going up in pitch. At this, he stopped holding back. Embry began pounding into you, hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave the good kind of bruise. You were moaning loudly, brain turning to mush. This is what sex was supposed to be like. What you’d always imagined it would be like. Passionate, loving, amazing.

Embry found himself reaching the edge, but would not allow himself to finish before you. He reached down onto the bed for the small pink toy that you had forgotten about. He flicked it on, brought his other hand down and around your throat to pull you up against him, and held the small vibrator right onto your clit. The pounding pressure of his dick paired with the fervent vibrations had you seeing stars. You came. Hard. You didn’t know how long the orgasm had lasted. When you came to, you were lying on your back on the bed, breathing still labored, as Embry cleaned your thighs off with a damp towel. He noticed you looking up at him.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he cooed.

“Hey,” you responded weakly.

“How ya doing?”

“Really good,” you laughed.

“Yeah?” he beamed at you as you nodded in response. “Good. I’m gonna get you some water and then we can cuddle, okay?” You only smiled in contentment as he walked off into the hallway, returning shortly with a cup of cold water. “Sit up for me?”

“Can’t,” you answered, eliciting a laugh from him.

“C’mon, I’ll help you,” he spoke as he gently held the back of your head, supporting you as you leaned up to drink from the cup he was holding up to your mouth. After you took a few sips, he seemed satisfied and placed the cup on the floor, lying down next to you and pulling you close. “If you start ignoring me after that, I might have to kill you,” he teased.

“Don’t worry. I won’t ever ignore you again.” You sighed in contentment, listening to Embry’s soothing heartbeat, before you began to wonder. “By the way, what the heck kind of research did you do?”

He huffed a laugh before responding, “Some guy on the internet called Owen Grey.”

#twilight #wolf pack #embry call #embry call x reader #embry call smut #twilight smut #sam uley #jacob black #paul lahote #quil ateara #seth clearwater #jared cameron #leah clearwater #edward cullen #embry call x reader smut #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut

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googledocsdyke · 3 years

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in all these musings about jender, has anyone discussed the fact that dean did watch a clip of jensen in days of our lives in canon and thus confronted Jender Itself in its raw unadulterated form?

god you're so right. now i'm going insane thinking about jender and the french mistake because like....... the entire episode premise has sam and dean comparing themselves to the haunting traces of their alternate self. like they never actually MEET jared and jensen which i do think is both fascinating and key to what makes the episode really work — they just have to detangle, half-horrified half-in awe, what kind of impossibly easy life these strange half-famous men live. using like, context clues. the episode mostly focuses on sam in ways that are very funny and iconic as this post outlines but you're right there is also some SUPER fascinating stuff going on w/ dean's masculinity

dean is much more visibly disgusted than sam at everything that points to jensen and jared's "softness" — their actor-indulgences and their lack of hunting skills and their effeminised "male model" career and dumb little rich boy details like the fish tank in jensen's trailer. i feel sick. he's going to be sick! you already pay these two jokers enough money as it is! and like, of COURSE it's dean who notices that he's wearing makeup (it's always, always dean that has these too-eager jokes land — or not land? — at his expense; marcusantonius: how do we know dean is performing masculinity? because sam isn't) he traces his hand down his face and says, in horror, oh crap, i'm a painted whore. and it's funny! laugh track! the man written as the furious antithesis of femininity accidentally slips into it again (see dean manifesto) and theres a whole HOST of deeply complex and largely misogynistic associations bundled up there about dean’s relationships (both canonical and fanonical) with sex workers, but it's also like...... you are a man. you are a man. you are a straight man and you PRESS that embodiment of yourself into the world every day. and then suddenly you fall through a window and someone else has put makeup on your face. who the hell put makeup on your face? is it even still your face? do you look better with makeup on your face? it doesn't matter. you're a painted whore. this is not your life. wipe this life off your body, wipe the makeup off your face. get back home to kansas.

and then the days of our lives scene in the trailer! again this is so Much because if they wanted to poke fun at the actors' pre-spn careers... jared padalecki is RIGHT there. he was in gilmore girls (haha funny) playing a character named dean (haha funny) who was the love interest (fellas is it gay to be in a woman-centric romcom about mother-daughter affection). but there's no POINT in emasculating sam, there's no punchline. so instead we get days of our lives-era Jender

and he IMMEDIATELY slams the laptop shut. don’t like this universe, sammy. need to get out of this universe. this is the tipping point for both of them, the moment where it all cements. you were a pretty boy on a genre INEXTRICABLY tied up with an audience of women and by god that’s the final straw

IDK MAN like you're dean winchester and you crash into a strange new universe and a man who is not you is wearing your face. or at least you think he’s wearing your face — you never see him, and maybe it’s you who is wearing his face, industrial-strength foundation at all. and people pay you to look... pretty, soap opera lead pretty, male model sons of bitches pretty, network tv good-looking pretty. you’re not just rewarded for this, you’re swaddled in comfort for this. paid in weekly checks, not crumpled twenties. you feel sick. you’re a painted whore. you know you wouldn’t be happy here (you and sam aren’t even BROTHERS) but there’s some strange haunting young version of you living in another world’s computer who looks just past the camera with soulful romantic lead eyes and maybe you don’t know how to hold all that knowledge in you! maybe you just want to get back to where you can kill something clean and simple and not think about catching the right angle while doing it. you will never meet jensen ackles. if you met jensen ackles you would punch his lights out. probably. maybe not! he’s not a hunter, he just plays one on tv. jensen ackles is a man pretending to be a hunter and you hate him for it, but isn’t that all you are, too, at the end of it?

#answered #dean studies #spn #gendernatural #i am thinking #....... i am THINKING #dean winchester: girl reiterated #god vaccine WHEN #Anonymous

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mrs-heelshire · 3 years

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A night in Rio

Threesome collab with @bubbleteaimagines

Hinata and Oikawa x F!Y/N

MINORS DNI

T.W : Sex, threesome and mentions of alcohol

It was early in the night, only 9 pm. You were on a trip with your boyfriend for the week. All was amazing, the two of you have been here since only yesterday. Only two days here before you learn that he cheated on you, even more than once, back in your country. You took all of your stuff and ran away after a quarrel with him. Was he always that mean? You weren’t sure, to be honest. Anyway, you can no longer stay here with him. Slapping him after closing your suitcase, you chose to change your hotel immediately. Thank god, you two didn’t live together. Anyway, now that you were in a new hotel, all by yourself, you decided to go out for the night. You need to change your mind and have fun so let’s not stay on the bed to ugly cry all night long.

Getting ready within half an hour, you were ready to own the night. Make up on, a sexy outfit, and your hair did, you were flawless and you knew it from all the looks people gave you. With a super short black leather skirt and a red croc top, tied by the back of your neck, your wavy hairs were adding a touch even more sexy to your look. Red lipstick on, mascara, and eyeliner were the only makeup on your face but god that was all needed to make you the prettiest person in the club you went to.

Many glances at you, you stayed for a moment at the bar. Drinking, you sighted. No man, no women, no non-binary persons.. no one catches your eyes tonight. Do you need to lower your standards? Hell no. No, you don’t. Paying for your drink, you were ready to move to another club when the barman gave you another one. Surprised since you haven’t asked for another, he didn’t give you the time to ask him to explain how and why.

“A little gift for the prettiest, from those two men here.”

With a small smile on his face, he let you look by yourself at who those two men were. Both of them were so fine. An orange-haired one, who seemed pleasantly muscular for his height, not much tall for a man. His friend was taller and thinner, yet he seemed as well though as the orange-haired one. Both tan, they immediately catch your eyes. Smiling at them as you raise your drink, you slowly drank it, exchanging glances with him. None of you took your eyes away as the three of you were finishing your drinks. They were checking you up as well as you were checking them up. For sure, now, the night seems to be more exciting.

The drink over, you got up, straight to the dance floor. It was the time to show your skills off. Moving your body, he didn’t take long before you felt a hand on your waist as the brown-haired one slighted behind you to move in rhythm with you. The smallest one in front of you, he put a hand on your waist as well, coming closer to you, moving in rhythm as well. Following the music, the three of you were in total synchronization. You never experienced something like that but god you knew what you were doing

“Our Hotel ?” Finally breaking the silence, the brown-haired one headed down to you, to be able to whisper in your ears so you can hear him over the loud music.

It’s only after ten little minutes on the dance floor that the three of you headed out. The orange-haired one grabbing your hand to be sure that you’ll follow them, the tallest one grabbed his car keys. It was him driving, meanwhile you and his friend were on the backseat, kissing each other already so deeply that you thought the two of you were gonna do it right here, right now. But now, the smallest one may be hungry for you, but he knew how to be able to taste you out the best.

“Can I ?” Asked the smallest one, kissing your neck as his hand went down, rubbing your most precious part, hiding behind the fabric of your clothes.

Nodding, the sound of his voice made you shiver. That was the most honeyed voice that you’ve ever heard. He seemed as needy as dominant. Letting him rub his thumb on your covered pussy, you let out some moan, making the driver’s jaw clenched. God the atmosphere all around in the car was so hot, it was suffocating. A good kind of suffocation.

The three of you were so horny that you can’t stop kissing and rubbing against each other even in the elevator and the hallway. Your mind is focused on them, you only notice the luxury of this hotel when they make you lean on the bed. For god’s sake, how big was it? Looking at the room around you, you immediately knew you were with two rich men. Well, this wasn’t like you cared about their money at some point. That was the last thing you were wondering.

“How about we take off this gorgeous outfit of you ?” Asked the orange-haired boy as he came back to kiss your neck. For sure, he was the most hungry of you three.

“I want to know your name first..” You moaned in his ears, making him blush softly.

You knew that question surprised them by the look they gave you for a minute. But they didn’t give you much time to think about it as the both of them came back to kiss you, all your neck, making you moan again as you slid a hand through each of their hair.

“I’m Tooru Oikawa and this small hungry man is Shoyo Hinata. What’s your name princess ?” Answered the tallest one, giving you chills as his voice was so sexy.

“Y/N” You answered back, curving your back as you felt Hinata’s fingers rubbing your belly.

Even if you still haven’t answered his first question, the smallest one takes away your top, immediately coming to cover your now bare chest with kisses, small bites, and sucking. For god’s sake, this man knew what he was doing. Petting his hairs, you let him do as he wanted with pleasure. Pleasure who quickly went double went, Oikawa slipped a hand under your shorts, coming to caress your precious little clit. Coming to kiss you, the tallest one dared to leave a hickey on your neck, a smirk on his face as he looked at it with pride.

Hearing Hinata groaned against your breast as he heard his friend marking your skin, he didn’t wait long before doing the same. Except that this man was a lot needier than his friend. Covering your chest and breast with hickeys, you can’t help but arch your back over and over, unconsciously rubbing your thighs against his dick who went straight up. Feeling not on, but two cocks hard as hell against each of your tights, you grabbed his orange-hairs as you felt yourself becoming even edgier. You wanted more. God yes, you wanted more than frictions. You don’t have to beg for a second before Oikawa hears you, slide two fingers inside you that he moved while he kept rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“You’re doing good, pretty girl.” He leans to whisper directly in your ears, slowly biting your earlobe with appetite.

All this pleasure was overdrawing you but you didn’t want to be the only one to receive. Sliding both of your hands inside their pants, you just teased them by only stroking them against the fabric of their underwear. Making them groan and growl, you smirked as you were still struggling to keep your voice decently down, not wanting the people around the hotel to hear you.

It didn’t take them long before they suddenly released you at the same time to strip. Well… strip is a big word. As Hinata took off his clothes like a beast in a rut, Oikawa took his time to tease your gaze. Quickly coming back at you, Shoyo grabbed your face between his hands to give you an amazing kiss that you extended, grabbing his fluffy hairs. Taking advantage of this distraction, Oikawa suddenly took off your shorts and underwear, heading down, making you moan hard against the other boy's lips.

“Gosh... You’re already so wet. Taste good princess.” He mumbles as he eats you out, letting a loud wet noise fill up the room, only to make you, even more, blush and moan. God those pet names will be the end of you, you already knew it.

“Move, let me have a taste of this sweet girl.” Groaned Hinata as he took his friend's place without hesitation.

God, the smallest of the two men, didn't talk much, but he knew all the better ways to use his mouth and his tongue. Playing with your pussy like a pro, using his fingers and his tongue, Hinata made so many noises. Wet noises filled the whole room. Groaning as he saw his friend take his place, Oikawa got surprised to see you moving the hand that wasn’t petting Hinata’s hair, to sign him to come to you. Wanting to please him as well, you took his hard cock in your hands. Using both your mouth and your hands, you're quick to make him groan. God his voice was so sexy. As Hinata was making you moan and groan as well, playing perfectly with your lowest part, your throat vibrated around the tallest man’s dick, making him quick to get on the verge of coming.

“Can I ?” Suddenly asked Hinata as he raised his head from your inner thighs that he also took the time to cover the inside with hickeys.

Nodding as you gently rubbed his cheeks, he slowly stood up, licking his lips who were covered by your juice. This man was so exciting, and he seemed to know it. Consuming you by his gaze only, the orange-haired boy took a condom off of his back pocket. Unwrapping it with his teeths he never stopped looking at you. He was so hot doing it that you could feel yourself leaking from arousal and even more when you saw him putting the condom on his hard as hell cock. He was so thick. Not as long as his friend but yet, you knew you’ll feel it coming inside.

“Tell me if it hurts, baby.” He said with a deeper voice than before.

God, it was so hot, your whole body was already sweating, and it was just the beginning. A beginning that Oikawa started to get jealous of. You never stopped your hand and yet, he started to get jealous of you only looking at his friend. Obviously, he will not let the orange haired boy take the lead alone. Oh, no. He will also take the lead.

“Don’t forget about me, princess.” He said with a smirk on his face, leaning onto you to slowly come to play with your nipples.

His hands were so soft and yet so rough on your skin. Making you moan, you still twitched and arched your back as you felt Hinata slowly insert inside you. It wasn’t your first time but it never has been that big and that appetizing. You already wanted more and yet your mind tried to tell you to wait a little to give yourself the time to get used to a thick dick like the one who was spreading your inside. Grabbing Oikawa’s hair, making him get even closer to your bare chest, things that make him happy. Immediately coming to eat your hard nipples, the setter was like a baby trying to get some milk. Which wasn’t possible, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to keep using his tongue and his soft lips on your cute little nipples.

Hinata only waits half a minute before starting to move inside you. Tearing your inside up, he still was able to make you feel good. A mix of pain and even more of pleasure, you were moaning so much that your mouth can no longer shut it. Mouth opens continuously, your eyes start to become teary. Gosh both of them were so good, and they knew it.

“You’re sucking me in.. fuck.. you’re gorgeous sunshine !” Grabbing your waist, Hinata was like a beast, trusting you with fierceness and yet so much caring.

He didn't want you to break. Oh, no, he wanted you to feel pleasure from his actions. Pleasure from his cock. Hinata seemed to perfectly know what he was doing. Feeling pleasure from all over your body was so good, so exciting. Quickly feeling yourself close to the edge, close to an orgasm, you started to moan louder, grabbing the sheets and the setter’s hair more strongly.

“You can come princesse, don’t hold it back… come for us.” Quietly whispered the setter, looking directly at you.

Both of them were. Both of them wanted to see your face as you cum and god that was so perfect, so pretty, so exciting. Squirming under both of them, you came screaming the smallest one name. He was so good, continually hitting your G-spot as he fucked you deep while his friend let down a hand to come rubbing your clit to give you even more pleasure as he was still sucking your breast, looking at you with so much desire. Looking directly at your O-face, Hinata almost let it all go inside. But, no, the orange haired boy perfectly knew how to last long. Obviously he knew how to.

“So pretty… God, you’re amazing... “ Mumbled the orange-haired boy as he leaned a little to cover your neck with his kisses.

Getting up, Oikawa smirked looking at you. He was thinking the same as his friend. You were so perfectly squirm under his team-mate's body. But this time, he wanted to step in. He wanted to get as much as pleasure and he will. With an only glare at each other, they both understand themselves in two seconds. Hinata leaning his back on the bed as he stayed inside you, making you lean onto him. Facing him, you didn’t saw Oikawa putting a condom on his hard cock. You’ll always regret it cause you knew this will have been an awesome view.

“Tell us, princess, are you comfortable with using this part of this pretty body of yours ?” Asked the setter as he gently grabbed your ass in his hands.

You knew what would happen. The position you all were in and this question… Oh yes, you knew what would happen if you said yes. But like I said earlier, it wasn’t your first time. It may be your first threesome but it will not be your first time doing it from the back. Still, you were a little scared that it would be too much to handle for your body. What if Oikawa were too big to fit inside you? Breathing slowly, you took a second to think of it before nodding. You weren’t exactly sure of why, but you trusted them. They didn’t seem like they would hurt you and God, no, they’ll never do such things. Your pleasure comes first for them.

“I’m okay with it.. but please, fill me up… I want to feel you inside me…” You asked him, turning your head to look at him.

Surprised with the words used for this request, the setter was biting his lower lips as you looked at him with so much appetite. He was ready. Ready to increase your pleasure.

“As you want princess.” He gently comes to whisper in your ears as he lays down against your back.

Squeezing yourself around the orange-haired boy as you felt his friend covering your ass with lube, you shiver. It was cold, but you knew you’ll need much of it. All the bottles. Making Hinata moan by squeezing your pussy around him, he is quick to grab you by the back of your head to come and kiss your neck. Rubbing your back with so much care, the smallest one

Oikawa didn’t come inside of you right away. No, he took his time to prepare you with his fingers. Only adding another one of them when you felt ready. Hinata was fucking you really slowly, and yet, it was so good. They were both so good. You were quickly ready. Regularly adding lub, the brown-haired man finished the bottle on your ass. Yet, it was only ten good minutes later, ten good minutes where they both praised you again and again, that Oikawa was sure that you were ready for more.

“I’m coming in princess, tell me anytime if you want me to stop. I’ll stop right away.” He finally said, gently passing a hand in your hair.

Nodding again, you grabbed the orange-haired man’s arms as Oikawa started to insert himself inside your asshole. God, he was so big. You could feel it. He was a little bit thinner than his teammate but, yet, he was longer. Grabbing you by your waist, he got himself inside of you inch by inch. He wanted to fuck you right away but he was perfectly able to restrain himself. He didn’t want to hurt you.

Moaning more and more, inch by inch, you squeezed yourself so hard around Hinata that he was unable to move for a moment. It was only when Oikawa was fully in that you could breathe properly. But… you knew it would not last long. As soon as they’ll start moving, breathing will be hard but it will be worth it and you knew it already. Waiting for you to get used to feeling both of them inside you, they both waited without moving, only waiting for your consent to start moving.

Consent that you took some minutes to give it to them. It was a new feeling. You were tearing apart from two big ass cocks and it was already so good. Giving them your consent, they both started moving slowly at first. They needed you to be fully used to their moving inside your two holes. Moving in crescendo, they’re quick to bring you to the edge of another orgasm. For god sake, you were overwhelmed by pleasure. It was a new feeling but you already knew you'd become addicted to it. It was so good. The room filled up with your loud moans and with their groans, it was so hot. You were now drooling from all the pleasure you were filled with.

With a lot of wet sounds mixing with your three voices, you suddenly froze as your back arched weirdly. Grabbing Hinata’s shoulders, you scratch them without noticing it. How could you notice that small detail anyway? It was too much for you, you were the first to come. Well… that's what you thought. Coming in unison, inside of you, both groaned their pleasure directly in your ears. It was like heaven. Even with their condoms, you were able to feel their cum filling the latex inside of you.

“God..” You whispered, having a hard time catching up with your breath.

You were drained. No battery. Your body was shaking so hard, especially your legs. Your eyes were already closing themselves, you were so sleepy now. It was now too late to go back to your new hotel room. You’ll have to stay there for the night and none of them were against it.

Taking off their condoms, Hinata carried you to the bathroom to give you a little bath before sleeping while Oikawa was changing the sheets. You’ll all need a wash-up. The orange-haired boy was so gentle with you. Fortunately, he was, either way, you’ll never be able to wash up yourself.

.For the rest, you're not sure about what happened. You were so sleepy that you probably fell asleep in the bath. You weren’t sure. Yet, it was on the bed that you worked up.

Feeling a gentle light on your face in the morning as the sun rises, you slowly open your eyes. God your lower body is sore but last night was so good that you can not regret it. How can you regret it? There is no way you would. But... Where were they? You were alone in this room and it made your heart squeezed. The room was so chic and big, but it wasn’t the same now. You were alone in their hotel room.

A small paper on the nightstand, you reached from it intrigued. It was a little note with two phone numbers writing on attached with each of their names with a small text underneath.

“Sorry for leaving you alone, we had a morning practice that we can’t skip... It was an awesome night, you are gorgeous. We hope you liked it as much as we did. Don’t hesitate to text us! For another round or for some time more soft and casual! 😋 O.T and H.S”

This small note made your heart melt, this was like a dream. But something was strange.. they seemed rich and that mention of “morning practice”... hmm... Were they professional athletes? Looking at their names on Google, you freeze seeing how famous they were. They had millions and millions of followers on Instagram, so many sports prizes were on so many sports magazines covers and... Oh, god. It was even more of a dream now. You’ll definitely contact them back but not because they’re famous athletes but because last night was amazing and that you were still able to feel the chemistry between the three of you.

@bubbleteaimagines Hope you’ll like it !

#oikawa smut #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa tōru #oikawa torū #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata smut #hinata shoyo x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #smut

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missvifdor · 3 years

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(The continuation of this post where during a spell class a portal opened and the boys' female doubles as well as MC's appeared in the class) (I think I could make it an independent "story" for the adventures of my MC /OC /YUU)

My MC /OC /YUU and his double crossing the gaze in the class: * Double bi panic *

*Now we will have to find a solution to bring these young ladies and this gentleman back to their reality, but in the meantime here is the look of our twisted guys if they were girls*

Dorm leaders:

Riddle: Looks both serious and cute, with a round cheeky face and big eyes with long thick lashes as well as a pretty pixie haircut. Obviously she stays small but is always bigger than my MC OC YUU, her voice both soft and sharp, a very interesting contrast.

Leona: Made more of a woman than a young girl, still has magnificent hair, bewitching eyes and has a very toned and nicely muscular body. His voice is deep with that tone both seductive and bored. She knows perfectly well that she is beautiful, that she has charm and adores the handset with her immense intelligence. It's an absolutely formidable combo. She is the same height as her male double.

Azul: Gives that mafia-like aura (Or Sugar Mummy), with her hair styled in an impeccable bun and her tailor that is both professional and flatters her gorgeous figure perfectly. Her smile is both sweet and dangerous. But we all know that deep down she is a sweet girl who needs reassurance and who needs to realize how smart, hardworking, and beautiful she is (and we know any of us don't would stop proving it to her). She must be two or three centimeters shorter than her male double.

Kalim: She's still a sun ball and a full cinnamon roll! So positive and supportive! Tie up her long silver hair with a cute headband and always do her makeup in warm tones (where instead Jamil helps her with her makeup like that). Always wears tons of gold bracelets on her wrists and ankles, is very tactile, and has no problem cuddling the people she loves and appreciates! Is the kind of friend who makes sure you eat well and that you don't miss anything. (I can see her thinking that she and Jamil have more of a sister relationship than a master and servant relationship). Is exactly the same size as her male double.

Vil: Let's be honest here, Vil would be the most gorgeous woman who hasn't set foot at Night Raven College for decades after The Beautiful Queen! You almost feel like she's straight out of a fashion magazine but no, it's just that our Reine des Poisons takes so much care of her and works so hard to come to such potential! Her magnificent hair would reach her shoulders, her voice would be as beautiful as honey on a slice of bread and her makeup and manicure would be as perfect as it gets! Maybe she would be a little taller than her male double (even without heels). (I don't know why but apart from her care and makeup, I also see her very well making her own jewelry as well as her perfume).

Idia: Haired with two long, fiery quilts, she would be more the type to have an e-girl style but with very loose clothes that would not show her forms (the poor one does not realize that she has the potential to become a model for lingerie). Her voice would be both sweet and high-pitched, and she could also be smaller than her male double. (And Husbando, so many Husbando!). Doesn't trust her smile because of her sharp teeth but that is her charm and she is so fucking cute! Maybe she would be more organized and manic than her double even if her room would still be in a very big mess (at least she didn't leave her underwear lying around in plain sight, she would die of shame if anyone saw the cute and childish little designs on it).

Malleus: This woman ... Would be exactly the same size as her male double! And she would be so beautiful and elegant! With long black hair that she would let hang down her back, as well as her incredible figure! (Also gives those Magical Sugar Mummy vibes). His voice, by all the gods ... The most sensual and that playful note we've ever heard. Her voice is also so deep and sweet (let's not even talk about her laugh or I'll die of happiness). Still gives that awesome and intimidating impression on people but is so sweet when you get to know her (Always make that adorable pout when she's sad or upset, you feel like hugging her tight and telling her that even though she is scary in the early days, she's the sweetest person we've ever met!).

The Vice-leader:

Trey: Don't lie to each other, give these married vibes over and over again. But beware, also hides his game very well because in private ... 🥵. Her beautiful hair tied in a ponytail and her voice in playful tones. Would be the type to wear stockings with his uniform and is the same size as his male double. Smells like cake and vanilla, it's both so nice and it also makes you so hungry!

Ruggie: Is quite skinny because as we know Ruggie often endures difficult months. Short and messy hair, has a cheerful voice and an infectious laugh (Quite fond of pretty things in the background, but since she doesn't have much money, she can't really afford it. If she could, she would certainly treat herself to some pretty hair accessories). Perhaps an unacknowledged Tsundere side. Since she cannot feed herself properly for someone her age, she is most certainly smaller than the average for a Beast Woman. Would probably like to have a cuter look, unfortunately she can't afford it as she doesn't want to look "weak".

Jade: Holy shit, this woman is so dangerous and sweetly sadistic, if you ever pique her interest and she likes you on top of that, I'm sorry for you. Her body is certainly muscular and graceful (She also has quite incredible strength). Has long, wavy hair that she wears half-loose and is exactly the same height as her male double. Her voice and at the same time so soft and cold, you don't know if you should feel comfortable or on the contrary, run as far as possible. Obviously loves going for long hikes, (Her legs are so muscular, if she catches you with that, you won't be able to go anywhere). His tone is so teasing, you can't resist him for long.

Jamil: Very tall, even a few inches taller than her male double. Just like Trey, she smells so good, like cinnamon. Has a fairly athletic build, and remained a very, very good dancer. Very skillful, maybe makes her own wrist and ankle bracelets, also wears a lot of jewelry (not as expensive as Kalim's, but still very pretty and it shows her really well, especially the snake designs ), also wears a lot of ear piercings. His hair is very long, silky, and worn the same way as the male Jamil (maybe with extra pearls in his hair). Her voice is deep (sensual) and with a note of irony and sarcasm. Her make up apply lightly but always in such beautiful warm tones (she also highlights her cheekbones), especially with eyeliner to highlight her intense gaze.

Rook: His hair is worn in the same way as the male Rook, also wears a multitude of hats as well as pretty earrings. Likes to tease those around her, smiling and bright. Has a French accent, of course. But remains someone dangerous in the end. Is the same height as her double, is athletic, skillful and has excellent eyesight (Normal for a hunter). See beauty in everything and everyone! Don't you think you're handsome? Rook will give you ten points for why she thinks you are beautiful and why you should stop thinking that way because otherwise she will stalk you until you accept this truth. Her voice is happy and confident, deep and warm. May like to wear accessories like long socks with natural or animal designs. Specialized in throwing knives.

Ortho: So cute! The little sister you will want to protect at the risk of your life! So smart and friendly, curious too. Wears a cute fiery pixie hairstyle and has a cheerful, thin voice. Is so small and skinny.

Lilia: Oh boy ... see Draculaura from Monster Hight? She has the same look. So much into jokes, loves to surprise people to scare them. Her voice contrasts completely with her appearance since it is deep and velvety. Same size as her male double. Even though she looks so young, she still acts like a child mom. (Obviously, is always so bad in the kitchen, she brings out stuff, sometimes you are afraid that it will come to life to devour you). Despite her jokes, she is still very good advice and listens.

The rest of our boys:

Cater: If fashionable, is certainly a great influencer. Cater pays so much attention to everything, especially the little details and accessories that she wear. Makeup always on top and colorful, could become a model if she wanted. Is smaller than her male double. Joyful and higher pitched voice, her hair is a bundle of silky curls always worn in a cute way (Like Ariana Grande). (Has a multitude of fans and contenders) carefree and likes to give cute or silly nicknames to people she loves and appreciates. Would be the type to flirt with his friends for fun. Probably has a passion for nail art and would be so proud to show off her designs on her Magicam account! Would act with the first years like a big sister although she is not always good advice. She is so teasing.

Ace: Short, messy hair! Pretty tomboy style, enjoys teasing others too much for his own good, always smiling like shit and communicative. Is a sporty person, and quite arrogant, maybe also a little Tsundere side. Is a hopeless hideaway romantic. Even though she likes to do her makeup, she doesn't like taking fifteen years to do it and does the minimum required. Of course has a more feminine side when she's out of school, but honestly, feminine clothes are never practical for big movements. Act confidently but not too deep down. Her voice is happy and dynamic. Is one or two centimeters smaller than her male double. Likes to wear necklaces and chokers. Rather skinny but not as much as Ruggie.

Deuce: So sweet and so want to do her best to make her mom proud of her. Wearing long hair tied in a low ponytail, her voice is high-pitched and strong. Is quite tall (even taller than her male double). Read romance books on the sly but can't help herself when someone finds out. Probably already dyed his hair blonde during his delinquent period and dyed it before entering Night Raven College. Likes to wear barrettes in her hair, also does her best with her makeup but was not used to it before (it was mainly Ace who taught her everything she knows). Secretly loves wearing skirts and dresses, she hasn't been able to experience it before because she didn't think it would look pretty on her (But she's actually pretty). Certainly be shy and insecure when she finds new people, afraid of doing things badly. Blushes so easily that it is funny. When his delinquent side resurfaces, his voice becomes more serious, threatening, his posture leaves no room for shyness! She might want to change for the better, but that doesn't mean she's going to let others do if they want to bully her!

Jack: Do you see Jasper in the Steven Universe? You now have Jack as a woman. She is muscular and strong! The part she's most proud of is her muscular back! His silvery hair his savage and remained indomitable (But that gives him a crazy charm). Don't take shit from people and still is a Tsundere. But her wagging tail always betrayed her about her emotions, as well as her ears. Same size as her male double. Secretly loves cute things and certainly has an army of adorable stuffed animals in her room in Savanaclaw. Wears a biker style, and because she lives in a cold region with her family, she doesn't get cold easily, so her muscular arms are uncovered all the time (for your viewing pleasure 😏). Her voice is serious, so serious! But if you're friends, you definitely hear that thoughtful little note in her voice. If his male version is the Best Boy, his female version is the Best Girl! She takes care of those she loves and is always ready to help!

Floyd: Is exactly the same size as his male double. Wear her hair short cut in a boyish style (she doesn't have the time or the energy to dwell on her hair). Her voice has high notes, especially when she finds something or someone cute! Very expressive, has no filter. Like her sister, she is muscular and graceful. Her dress style could be similar to those of men in the 40's (she much prefers masculine clothes because it is more comfortable and she doesn't have to worry about her chest with large shirts. does not have to wear a bra!). Love accessories like earrings or piercings. Has immense strength and doesn't always control it. Dislikes makeup, she doesn't want to bother with it (but finds it charming on others, that's just her personal opinion). If its male version is not to be upset, it also works with its female version! Especially when it is at this time of the month, run away poor fools!

Epel: The same problem as with its male version! Except that instead of being manly, she wants us to find her sexy and not cute! All her life in her hometown has not to stop telling her that she was cute! Really ? Was she nothing else ?! She wants people she finds attractive to find her sexy, not cute! Just because she is petite, because she has big, innocent eyes and a round, youthful face, doesn't mean it's her definition of beauty or femininity! Much like her appearance, her voice is cute, slender. Her hair is long, wavy and held up with a red ribbon in an elegant manner. Compare to her male version, Vil lets her speak with her accent because it is one of her charm assets. Her face is decorated with delicate freckles. Is quite skinny with a tiny bit of shape but not a lot (let's say she has a lot more than Riddle). Epel is a little smaller than the male Epel, but not much.

Silver: She is the equivalent of Disney Princess Aurora. Except that, unlike, even if she falls asleep anywhere, she doesn't need a knight to protect her, she is her own knight! Remain a formidable swordsman! In spite of everything, remains someone calm and taciturn, very easygoing. She is very fond of animals and as they naturally flock to her, she is very happy about this fact. Wear her hair up to the shoulders and tie it in a ponytail for practice. She has a fairly toned body, but not too much. Her voice is soft and measured. She is much smaller than her male double.

Sebek: Acts hard but is so soft in the end. Looks pissed off all the time but that's just her natural expression. Wears her hair like her male version, and is the same size. Her voice carries so far, it's very impressive the first time you hear her! It is a bit sharp, but not in an unpleasant way. Carries so much esteem and respect towards Malleus, she would also like so much to be like her but she would never dare to compare herself to her! Blushes so hard and so quickly if you press the right buttons, it's so funny to see her get annoyed! Her figure is quite toned and sporty.

And finally, My MC /OC /YUU: Just like his female version, he wears round glasses, is always 150cm tall and has long wavy hair. Has fairly broad shoulders and is slightly muscular without really being so. Does everything possible to make girls feel comfortable and safe in his presence! He knows how exhausting the life and daily life of women is because of societal pressures and the male gaze. He knows that because of assholes, women are afraid of men and are afraid to even be in the same room as them, so he will do his best to ensure that she never feels that way around him! And if someone has the audacity to make one of them feel these feelings, oh boy ... that person won't last long! He was raised by his mother alone, and she taught him respect, consent and righteous values. He is an ally, so rest assured 😊😉. His voice is soft and serious (Also watching him get angry and argued in French is quite impressive! The sound of Rs in his mouth sounds even more aggressive).

#Twisted boys girl!au #Girls!au #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland imagines #Disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #Twst #twst x reader #Twisted boys #Savanaclaw #Heatslabyul #octavinelle #Scarabia #pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia

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farfromparker · 4 years

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♛ Sovereign | t.h.

♛ Summary: Tom offers you something you never knew you wanted, himself. ♛ Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader ♛ Warnings: explicit smut featuring sub!Tom ♛ Word Count: 6.8k ♛ Notes: It’s been three months but our lovely sub!Tom is back! I’m really excited to share this one with you guys, feels good to be writing again! As always, feedback is appreciated and encouraged!!

Special thanks to @worldoftom 💖

“I love you two, ya know that?” Harrison calls from your couch.

You smile at your reflection in the mirror, applying a good cover of mascara. Putting on the finishing touches in preparation for a night of debauchery or an acting audition. It all depends on how Harrison’s meet up with an online match plays out.

“Shouldn’t one of us stay back in case you need an emergency call to get out of it?” Tom asks, sprawled out on your bed.

“Nuh uh,” you interject, popping out of your bathroom to look at Tom directly. “You are not leaving me alone with this. If he’s into this guy I am not going to be left alone at the bar while they hook up in the bathroom.”

“Hey!” Harrison calls out.

“Am I wrong?” you call back.

“Well — no, but if you could not be so blunt about it I’d appreciate that.”

Tom laughs. “Alright,” he sits up, “but know I’m only doing this for you, love.”

You blow him a kiss before turning back into your bathroom to finish up the last little stitch of makeup.

Another minute or two and one last adjustment of your top and you flick off the bathroom light. You walk back out into your bedroom and grab your purse off the bed.

Tom stands up and smiles at you, “You look stunning.”

There’s a bit of heat that settles on your cheeks, “Thanks Tommy.”

He goes to move past you, brushing his hand along the small of your back. “You’re welcome, Miss,” he whispers, and your body goes stock still. You turn to look at him and he’s smirking, a devilish glint playing in his eyes. And your drunken conversation, nay confession, to him last week plays over in your mind.

You groaned, falling back onto Tom’s sofa.

“What’s up, love?” Tom asked, offering you another drink, your fifth of the night, as he settled down next to you.

“I miss sex Tommy,” you said, taking a long sip of your drink.

Tom coughed quietly from his spot opposite you. “Oh? What about that lad last month? Uh Nick? Brad?”

You shook your head, dismissing the name of a recent, random hookup, “That was just sex. I miss… sex my way.”

Tom licked his lips, shifting on the couch to turn towards you more, “Your way?”

You copied him, wetting your own lips. “I like to be in control.” And the alcohol coursing through your veins was enough force to keep you talking. “I like to dominate. I want a pretty boy on his knees for me, I want him begging and whining and whimpering for me. I wanna call him baby boy and puppy and pet and I want him to call me Miss. I want him to be mine.”

Tom watched you talk, hanging off every word, absolutely mesmerized.

“I wanna tease him, I wanna edge him and play with him. I wanna choke him. I want him to beg for me to let him cum. And before I let him cum maybe I’ll ride his face first, or sit on his cock and then after I’ve cum I’ll finally let him cum, watch him make himself all messy for me. Cum all over his stomach, cock wet from me. and then maybe I’ll — maybe I’ll lick it up and push my tongue into his mouth. Make him taste his own mess.”

He licked his lips and adjusted himself, an action lost on you. You took another drink before glancing at him. His face was flushed. He swallowed harshly, grabbing his own drink to wet his dry mouth.

“Wow,” he paused, trying to find the words.

“Sorry,” you laughed, “that might have been more than you bargained for.”

He chuckled, clearing his throat, “Nope. We just got that much closer is all. It’s fine, good. All good.”

You’re left reeling a bit because he most definitely just called you Miss and most definitely remembers the situation in which you said you want to be called that. But he’s out in your living room now, leaving you to your own thoughts.

Harrison calls out your name, “You ready?”

You shake your head, one big deep breath in and push Tom’s comment out of your mind. “Coming!”

♛*♛*♛

The bar is loud, there are people all around you. Bodies ebbing and flowing to the beat like the ocean against the sand. It’s hot but not uncomfortably so. You’re enjoying the liveliness, the noise, the commotion. You can’t hear yourself think in here and somehow through it all, it’s the quietest you’ve felt in a long time.

Tom is close. You can feel his hand hovering along the small of your back to keep you near him. You take turns shouting into the other’s ear, trying as best you can to carry on a conversation over the music.

Harrison is still within your sights, grinding and kissing and it’s safe to say your acting skills won’t be needed tonight. You smirk as you glance in their direction. Happy for him.

And so that left you and Tom. Your best friend, your partner in crime, your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. Sweet Tom. Lovely Tom. Gorgeous Tom. Sexy Tom.

You shake your head as your brain catches up with the thoughts the contents of your glass are riling up inside your mind. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to focus again. Best friend Tom. Smart and silly with a heart as big as an ocean, just as deep as well. Beautiful Tom, his warm chocolate brown eyes, his broken nose, his messy eyebrow, his pink lips...

His strong shoulders, firm stomach, gentle hands…

The same gorgeous man who called you Miss mere hours ago...

Stop.

He’s pressed into you, breath in your ear, hand firmly placed on your hip now. Your skin feels hot.

“Might need to catch a ride back to yours, love,” he says and there’s an uncontrollable shiver that runs up your spin. He pulls back to look you in your eyes, smirking and he tilts his head towards Harrison. Your eyes linger on his lips for a second, the alcohol making the delay longer than socially acceptable. He notices. You pull your eyes away and find Harrison again, lips locked, hands roaming and he’s definitely getting lucky tonight.

Your free hand finds Tom’s stomach, hand sliding gently until it comes to rest in the dip of his waist. He turns into you easily.

“Course Tommy, there’s always room at my place for you.”

There’s a flirty tone to your response. Maybe it’s a result of the alcohol, maybe it’s a result of the song playing over the speakers, a deep, rhythmic tone. Or maybe it’s a result of the way Tom had reacted when you touched him. His stomach muscles flexing, body turning towards you, fingers squeezing at the band of your jeans to pull you just that much closer.

And that’s when you realize his hand is under your shirt, when did that happen?

His thumb bumps against the skin of your lower back, gently, rubbing soft circles and your vision is starting to blur, but it’s got nothing to do with the drink in your hand.

You set that same drink down on the bar behind you, it’s not even the slightest bit important anymore. You look at him, staring into his eyes and asking a silent question. His gaze drops to your lips and that’s enough of an answer to take this forward. You reach for his hand and take his drink, placing it down next to yours. You reach your hand up for him and trace his jaw, ghosting along his smooth skin. He’s looking back into your eyes now. You hook your pointer finger under his jaw and let your thumb rub against his bottom lip. You glance down, watching as his mouth pops open slightly for you, the way his lip moves under your touch. You drag your thumb a little more roughly, pulling at his lip some and getting it wet from his spit. Then you bring your forefinger up to trace his top lip before letting it fall gently into the open space his lips have created. He opens wider as an invitation and you push your finger inside. You glance back up at him and his eyelids flutter, lips locking around your digit and as your thumb traces his cheek, he starts sucking. He uses his tongue tentatively, swirling around your finger and does his best to keep his teeth out of the way.

You smirk, eyes hooding as you focus on the feeling of his mouth. Your own tongue pokes out to lick along your bottom lip.

Good boy.

Someone knocks back against you suddenly, pushing you off balance. You pull your hand back to steady yourself against his chest and he automatically grabs at you as well, bringing you impossibly closer.

He looks at you, “You alright?” he shouts over the music.

Nodding, you simply respond, “Let’s go.” You reach down and grab his wrist, guiding him through the mess of people. He twists his hand so that his fingers lock with yours and you can feel his presence along your back as you wade through the crowd.

You push the door open and the cool air hits you as you step out onto the street. The cold only spurs you on, reigniting that desire you had back inside. You pull your phone out quickly, desperate to get home. You find a ride relatively quickly and request it.

There’s a small group of people outside the pub, smoking and bantering. They don’t pay you any mind. You stuff your phone into your back pocket and turn to Tom.

“What about Harrison?”

Tom shakes his head, “He’s a big boy, he’ll be fine.” The answer is firm.

Your lips curl up into a smile and you step into his space. You can still feel the ghost of his mouth around your forefinger, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, the look in his eyes as you watched. You can still feel the tacky remnants of his saliva on your skin.

You bring your hand up to cup his jaw. “I’d like to keep pushing, Tommy.”

His face goes a little slack, mouth parting slowly, eyes turning dark and stormy. He nods, seemingly a bit lost for words.

You however, say exactly what comes to mind. “Good boy.”

And he whimpers at the praise. The sound sends an electric spark down your spine, igniting a fire deep in your belly. You drag your hand down around his throat, taking it slow so he has enough time to register your intent and tell you no. He doesn’t. You press your pointer finger and thumb along the column of his throat, high under his jaw and squeeze at his pulse points. You can feel the hammering inside his veins, a frantic drumming beat. He moans your name.

Someone calls out to you and you startle, shaken out the haze of lust once more. Your hand falls away from Tom. Turning, you find your driver with an awkward expression on his face.

You smile, a faint feeling of heat settling on your cheeks from being caught. You link your fingers with Tom’s and pull him into the back of the car, helping to navigate the driver back to your place. Tom fidgets next to you and it isn’t until your hand comes to rest high on the inside of his thigh that he finally settles.

He clears his throat, leaning in closer to you so you can hear him clearly over the dull thrum of music playing through the car speakers. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

You pull back so you can find his eyes in the dim neon glow from the front counsel of the car. He looks back at you, gaze as confident as the statement was. You study him, this beautiful man, your best friend, a man you absolutely love, willing to submit to you. Willing to give into you, to trust you with himself so fully.

He licks his lips, a movement that brings your attention back to him, here, now. He chews on gently before adding the ending affirmation to his confession of submission, the words you needed to hear. “Whatever you want, Miss. I’m yours.”

Arousal surges through your veins as you stare into his eyes, consuming every inch of your body. Your hand on his thigh moves up to cup him through his jeans, you can feel the bulge, feel how hard he is already. His eyelids flutter closed as you touch him and you grin.

“So hard already, baby boy?”

“Fuck,” he breathes, hips flexing up into your palm. “So fucking hard.” He opens his eyes, staring back, “All for you.”

“Darling, we’ve barely begun,” you purr, leaning in to press your lips to his neck. You kiss along his throat gently, teasing little kitten licks and the soft press of your lips.

He brings a hand up to rub at his eyes, head falling back into the headrest. “You’re gonna kill me,” he chuckles, “you know that? I could cum right now, honestly. And if you want to do to me — like what you said last weekend? I’m fucked.”

Your mind runs wild with possibilities but you do your best to mask your excitement, biting your lip as the car comes to stop outside your place. A quick thanks to the driver and you’re pushing Tom out the door and up to your flat.

You secure the lock behind you once inside and push him up against the door. The lighting in your apartment is a stark contrast from the neon hues of the club and the darkness of the car. There’s no hiding here.

“You sure?” You ask, hands on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat.

He looks at you, unblinking, not even a hint of hesitation on his features. “I want this. I want you.”

There’s a heavier meaning behind his last statement, something that’s been there between the two of you for a while. It makes your heart sing.

You beam, letting the reality of this start to consume you, “Good. Me too… so much. But if there’s anything I do that you don’t like — that you don’t want to do, just tell me. I’ll stop, no questions.”

“Yeah, got it. I’m not worried though, I trust you.”

Your cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so much so you kiss him instead, deeply. His lips are warm and soft and they glide against yours easily. His tongue moving and rubbing against yours. He still tastes like the beer he was drinking at the bar. It all feels like the start of something, so perfectly the beginning of a chapter that you’ve both been waiting for.

When you pull back he’s blushing, shy and unable to meet your gaze. He clears his throat, moving forward from the door just an inch or two. You move with him, your hands falling from his chest to hang at your sides as you watch him. He looks up at you quickly before staring back at the floor and slowly he sinks down to his knees. He bows his head, and you take another step back, one that allows you to see him better. His hands fidget in his lap for a moment before he links them behind his back.

He licks his lips, “Miss?”

Fuck.

You go forward towards him one more, threading your fingers into his hair so you can pull his head back and he’ll have no choice but to look at you. “So pretty,” you coo. “My pretty boy.”

He whines, “Yeah, fuck. Yes I am. I’m yours.”

You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, enjoying how he leans into your lips. “C’mon pretty boy, let's take this to the bedroom.”

He stumbles over himself trying to get up fast enough. You chuckle as you walk down your hallway, letting your hips sway in a bit more of an exaggerated fashion.

You flick on the lamps by your bed and turn to find his eyes trained on you, waiting with bated breath for your guidance. Your hands miss the heat of his body so you beckon him over to you, letting your fingers find their way underneath his shirt to feel his skin, feel the goosebumps erupt across his stomach. You push his shirt up and off and he moves willingly, discarding it on the floor. His own fingers quickly join yours as you work on getting him out of his jeans as well. You push them down his legs and as he kicks out of them, your lips find his. While the first kiss was tender and sweet and everything a first kiss should be, this one is the direct opposite. It’s needy and hungry and possessive. His mouth opens to you, tongue pressing against yours frantically as you push him back against the wall. Hands finding purchase along his hips, shoulders, neck, hair, arms, anywhere… everywhere.

He’s groaning against you, a low rumble that makes your clit throb. His hand is on your jaw while the other is digging into your hip. You pull back unexpectedly with a loud smack of your lips against his. He tries to follow, a soft plea of no leaving his lips that you're sure wasn’t a noise he meant to make out loud.

“Oh puppy,” you purr, a sneer cracking across your face as he whines. You study him, his normally warm eyes are blown wide, thin lips red and swollen, hair messy from your hands raking through it. You trail one finger along his stomach, below his navel, tilting it so it’s more of a drag of the nail than the fingertip, until you reach the band of his underwear. Teasingly slowly, you dip in under the elastic. “Why don’t you take these off and settle down against the headboard, yeah?”

He swallows, “Yeah.”

You step back so you can watch, eyes traveling every inch of his body as he pushes the elastic down slowly, watching your reaction to him.

You glance up at his face, “Go ahead Tommy, let me see you.”

He rolls them down his thighs gingerly, until his cock springs free. One final quick tug and they’re down around his ankles. He steps out of them, fingers rubbing at the skin on the outside of his thighs as he stands there in front of you, completely exposed. You bite your lip and take your time admiring him, it is your cock now after all. And it’s as pretty as the rest of him, perfectly thick, a good length, veiny, and he’s hard enough that his foreskin has rolled back. His tip is pink and wet and you can feel your own wetness begin to pool in your underwear.

He’s nervous, standing there under the weight of your gaze, looking for your approval. “Just as fucking perfect as the rest of you.” And he blushes a deep red from his chest up his neck to the apple of his cheeks, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Now, on the bed, darling.”

“Yes, Miss.”

He settles down in the middle of the mattress, resting against the metal headboard and watches as you dig out soft bondage rope from the bottom drawer of your dresser. His eyes go a little comically wide and you come to sit next to him on the bed. Grabbing one of his wrists softly, you place the rope in his hand so he can feel it.

“We don’t have to. I got a little eager, but we can wait.”

His fingers curl around the rope curiously. “What — uh what did you want to do with it?”

“Tie each wrist individually toward the two corner posts of the headboard.”

He looks down at the rope again, fingers still rubbing along it before he glances to each corner post. He sets the rope down and spreads his arms, looking at you he asks, “Like this?”

You nod, “Exactly like that.”

He considers it for another moment, a small blush creeping up on his cheeks again, “I — I like that idea.”

“And,” you continue, deft fingers unraveling the rope and tying it around his left wrist as an example, “I use quick release knots.” You finish the knot and let him examine it for a moment. “That way, if you need me to stop, all I have to do is pull.” And you do, one quick tug on the end and the whole knot comes undone. “And you’re out.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees, all hesitancy gone, “tie me up. Tie me up Miss, please.”

You chuckle, “My eager little puppy.”

And so you do. Keeping his wrists secure but making sure the knots aren’t too tight and that he’s comfortable. When you lean back and take him all in, the situation floors you. This is your best friend Tom, someone you’ve loved for years but now might actually be awakening the feeling of being in love with. And he’s tied to your bed, naked and hard and absolutely fucking stunning. Tan skin flushed with a red tint that deepens depending on what you do to him. His curly hair is messy from your hands. His lips are red and swollen from your lips. He’s hard and leaking against his stomach because of you.

“Fuck.” It’s the only word your mind can coherently string together in that moment because this is everything you never knew you wanted and now it’s all laid out in front of you for your own taking.

He shivers under your stare, arms flexing as he pulls at his restraints just slightly and the fact that you aren’t on him yet is criminal. So you lean in, pressing your lips to his quickly first, a soft, sweet kiss of reassurance before you tilt his head to the side and drag your teeth down his neck. He moans as you start to suck on the skin at the junction of his neck, hands rubbing along his chest. You find his nipples, pebbled hard and as you bite down on his neck you pinch them, eating up the way he whimpers, the way his hips jolt off the bed. One last bite and you pull your mouth from his skin, resting in the crook of his neck, listening to his heavy breathing. His cologne is faint but you can still smell it. He’s completely enveloping all five of your senses. You slide your hand down his stomach and watch as his muscles move, his cock twitches as you get closer to it. And you can’t tease him, as much as you want to, you want to feel his cock as badly as he wants you to.

You wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly and his head falls back. He swears, long and low, drawing the word out as you play with him.

“Make such pretty noises, Tommy,” you praise. Enjoying the weight of him in your hand, how hard he is balancing out the velvety softness of the skin of his shaft. How hot he is, memorizing every ridge and vein along his length. Watching his foreskin roll back with the movement of your hand, as you continue to slowly milk pre cum from him.

He gasps, “I’ve been thinking about this all week — well, fuck. A lot longer than that actually but like, ugh, what you said last weekend.” You pull your head out of the crock of his neck so you can look at his face as he continues. “I’ve been horny all fucking week. I’ve jerked off every night and it’s not enou— ”

He whines high in his throat as you twist your grip along his tip.”Fuck! Fuck it’s not enough. And I've been… I’ve been doing research. About what you said. And I —” his heavy breathing interrupts his thought process. “I want to be good for you. I — I wanna be yours.”

He looks at you then, locks and holds your gaze. “Can I? Can I please be yours?”

Your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “Fuck. Tommy. Yes, I want you to be mine. All mine.”

His eyes go wide, face softening as you give him the answer he needed to hear. “Thank you, oh fuck, thank you Miss. Shit. I’m gonna — gonna cum.”

You stop your movement immediately, grip loosening and you feel him twitch, hear the rattle of the headboard as he pulls on the ropes.

“Fuck!” He squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body going taut as you deny him.

“Baby boy, if you think you’re cumming before I get that gorgeous cock inside me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

His eyes snap open, “Oh fuck. I wanna be inside you, I wanna feel you, I wanna —” his arms flex against the rope once more, “Are you wet Miss? I wanna feel it, I wanna know I’ve been a good boy and made you wet. I wanna taste you. I want —”

You hush him gently, pushing back the hair that’s fallen across his forehead, “I know baby boy. And you have been so good for me already.” You emphasize this with a quick squeeze of his cock. He gasps, eyes never leaving you. You place a quick kiss to his lips before getting up off the bed. You strip, a little slower than normal, keenly aware of his eyes on you. Sliding your jeans down your legs before pulling your top off slowly. A quick pinch of your fingers and your bra loosens, straps slipping off your shoulders and you let it fall to the ground.

“Fuck me,” he whispers, fingers curling into his palm as his eyes sweep over your body for the first time.

You toy with the band of your underwear, pulling downward slowly from each hip before you turn around, bending over as you slide them past your ass and down your legs. The movement of your hands accompanies another jarring shake of the headboard and he’s swearing as he stares at you, bent over and showing him everything.

“Miss. Fuck, I can see how wet you are. Shit… god I wanna taste you, I wanna feel you. Please Miss. Please.”

You stand back up and turn towards him, crawling onto the bed over to him. “So vocal, baby boy. I love it,” you murmur, moving to straddle his hips. You hold yourself above him, smirking when he tries to tilt his hips up to you only for you to move further away from his cock.

“I’ve got the implant in,” you start, waiting for him to look at you. When he does, he nods, understanding what you’re saying. “Are you clean, Tom?”

“Yeah,” he rushes out, “I haven’t been with anyone in a while and I always got tested afterwards.”

“Good. Me too.” And with that you drop your hips slowly, settling his cock between your wet folds. He moans and it’s impossible for you to hold one in as well. His cock fits along your center perfectly. You slide along him, getting him wet and focusing on the tip of his cock nudging against your clit.

“Fucking hell, you’re so wet,” he whines, biceps bulging as his hips start to move with yours.

You smirk, leaning in to rub your lips against his, “So are you.”

And you glance down, watching as his cock continues to leak onto his stomach, as he gets wet from you, foreskin rolling back with each movement from your hips as you rock against him. You lean in, capturing his lips with yours properly. He leans up and into you, moaning when you bite roughly along his bottom lip. You lift your hips off him, reaching down to get a hand around the base of his dick. He’s lost in the kiss, arching up into you, mewling but as soon as you start to sink down on his cock, he freezes.

He pleads your name, breathing heavily against your lips, “Holy shit. I — you… fuck! You feel so good.”

“Baby boy, you sound like a virgin,” you tease, enjoying the stretch of his cock as he bottoms out inside you. You sigh, clenching purposefully around his cock as you reach down to start rubbing your clit.

He whines, head falling back against the headboard, “I fucking feel like one.”

You chuckle, finding a rhythm with your hips, angling your movements slightly until his cock is rubbing exactly where you want him. You clench involuntarily and his name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper. He looks back at you then, watching you use him, ride him, finger slipping easily against your clit.

He pulls at his restraints and you look at him, cocking an eyebrow to push him to voice what’s on his mind. He takes in a deep breath through his nose. “Miss, I wanna make you cum. I wanna be good for you. I want to — can I show you how good I can be? Please?”

You slow your hips to a stop, watching his body jolt as the friction on his cock ceases but stays buried deep inside you. You trail your fingers up his stomach, circling one nipple, then the other, “Yeah? And how are you going to do that, Tommy? How are you going to be good for me and make me cum?”

“My fingers, my cock. I want you to cum using your boy. But I should be doing the work. Please. I’ll be so good for you. So fucking good.”

You snicker, his eagerness and willingness to please is palpable. You consider him for a second longer and then give one single nod. You reach for his wrists and give a good tug, the quick release knots loosen and his hands are free.

He goes to touch you but stops himself, “Can I, Miss?”

Your clit throbs, so much so that you clench around his cock to try and ease some of the ache. He shudders as a result, muscles in his stomach and chest tightening. “Yeah, baby boy, you can.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, moving to have you settle down on your back but doing delicate work to keep his cock inside you. He grabs at your hips and tilts them up a bit, the movement allows his cockhead to rub directly against your sweet spot. You moan quietly, a noise not lost on him and he starts thrusting, keeping them pointed and determined. He reaches for your hand, bringing it up to his throat and as you squeeze gently, he sucks his thumb into his mouth. He presses it to your clit expertly, letting it slide against you quickly while he fucks his hips into you. Every movement of his body is perfectly pinpointed on your pleasure.

“Fuck, Tommy.” Your fingers squeeze gently against his pulse points. You reach your other hand up and thread it into his hair. You pull, bringing his mouth down onto yours. He steadies himself with a hand next to your head but doesn’t stop the movement on your clit, doesn’t slow the perfect drag of his cock inside you. He opens his mouth to you, lets you take what’s yours.

You start tightening around his cock, can feel the heat building in your core and your mouth goes slack as your release approaches.

“Yeah, please Miss, please cum, please let me make you cum,” he urges, his breath mixing with yours, lips so close they bump against yours as he talks.

It swells like a wave, building momentum until finally it reaches its peak and breaks. Your body shudders, fingers tightening in his hair and Tom is close, thumb still against your clit, feeling you clench and flutter and it registers after a moment that you’re clenching around nothing. You gasp, fingers loosening some. You suck in a deep breath, doing your best to fill your lungs.

Your go limp into the mattress and you open your eyes to see him staring in awe at you. You lick your lips as you rub his hair and let your fingers trail down his neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been picturing what you would look like when you cum, and my imagination wasn’t even close. Fuck, you’re amazing. Thank you for letting me be good for you.”

You press your lips to his, “You were so good for me, puppy. Made me cum so fucking hard.” You take a deep breath in, body feeling more and more like jelly. You trail your fingers down his arms, feeling the smoothness of his skin, “You pulled out though…?”

And he blushes, eyes dropping, unable to hold your gaze. “I was gonna cum, you felt so fucking good but you — well, you didn’t give me permission to...” he trails off.

There’s no fighting the devilish smirk this time. “Oh baby boy, such a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

He smiles sweetly. “I try to be, Miss.”

“You are,” you affirm, pushing at his chest and moving with him as he settles back against the headboard once more. “So good for me. And good boys get their rewards.”

You settle down between his thighs, a wave of possessiveness washing over you as his legs spread automatically to fit you comfortably. You press your lips to his chest, lazily trailing kisses down his stomach, taking your time to nip and suck on his skin. His stomach muscles tremble under your touch and he’s making sweet little mewling noises as you move lower and lower down his body.

You trace your tongue along the jut of his hip, raking your fingernails gently up along the inside of his thighs. He chokes back your name as you reach up and cup his balls. They’re heavy and full in your hand. You move to his opposite hip, marking his skin in a rougher way, determined to leave a bruise that he’ll see for days to come.

His fingers are curled into your comforter, tendons prominent on the back of his hands as he squeezes and releases his grip. He’s babbling above you, a mantra of please leaving his lips.

One lewd sucking noise and you pull away from his hip. Letting your hand fall away from his balls, you lean up and look at him. “Please what, puppy? What do you want?”

“Touch me, please. Please, Miss.”

You splay your hands deliberately across his thighs, rubbing at his legs. “I am touching you, baby boy.”

He sobs, hips flexing up off the bed as you run your hands up his body, purposely staying away from his cock. “Use you words, puppy.”

“F-fuck! My cock, please. P-please touch my cock.”

“There,” you coo, “all you had to do was ask, Tommy.”

And finally you do, leaning back down to lick along the underside of his cock, flattening your tongue and dragging it up his length. He chokes at the first contact, chest heaving as he falls back against the headboard. His tip is dark red and leaking steadily. You envelop your lips around him, wrapping your hand around his base as you start sucking. You swirl your tongue, tasting the saltiness of your wetness and his pre cum on your tongue.

He starts twitching underneath your touches, cock jerking in your mouth as you hollow out your checks. You start bobbing up and down, spit starting to coat his cock and make him sloppy. You pull off with a pop, letting your hand pick up where your mouth left off.

“Love that your cock tastes like me, baby boy.” You growl, the slick noises of your hand around his dick echoing in your ears. “How it always should be, yeah? Your cock should always be wet from my pussy.”

He whimpers your name, panting as he looks at you. His body is taut, like the string of a bow. He’s practically vibrating, doing his best to stave off his orgasm for just a little bit longer. You watch him, his jaw clenches, sucking a deep breath in through his nose before he opens his mouth again. He sounds breathless. His eyebrows crease and eyelids flutter as you thumb his slit, collecting even more of his pre cum.

“Wanna cum, Tommy?” you taunt, twisting your grip and watching as he shutters.

“P-please,” he gasps, grip twisting even harder into your bedsheets.

You stop the movement of your hand, moving in closer, feeling predatory as you glare at him, “Beg for it.” you demand, voice harsh and authoritative

“F-fuck, Miss, please can I cum? I want to so badly. Please, please Miss. Please… please make cum,” he whines, voice high pitched and broken.

“Good boy,” you purr. You start to move your hand again but not at the speed he needs. “Go on, puppy, fuck my fist and make yourself cum.”

He cries out, doing as he’s told, hips flexing and thrusting up into your grip. His muscles are defined and quivering as he moves. Moans getting shorter, choppier, whinier. He sounds wrecked and desperate and needy and bloody fucking beautiful.

“There ya go, baby boy, cum for me.”

And he does. He freezes, body going rigid and you feel his cock pulse in your hand. He curls forward towards you as he cums, spilling across your hand and up his chest and stomach.You stroke him through it, listening as your name is a litany on his lips. He twitches as you milk every last drop of cum from his cock.

With one long moan, he sags backwards, exhausted but completely sated. He’s still breathing hard, chest heaving and he looks up at you, “Fuck me.”

You chuckle, leaning in to press your lips to his and kiss him lazily. You pull back, going to move off the bed but he grabs your wrist, “Where are you going?” suddenly sounding a bit lost.

You smile softly, leaning in to kiss his check. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. And get you something to clean up with,” you say with a wink, motioning to his cum covered stomach.

He goes a bit sheepish, grip loosening. “Oh, yeah — right.”

You come back soon after, washcloth in hand, and he cleans himself up quickly as you crawl back into bed with him. He tosses the now dirty cloth onto the floor and you giggle as he cuddles into your side, arms wrapping around your waist and pressing himself along your body.

You scrape your fingers up into his hair, listening as he hums contently. “You mentioned something about research…” you trail off, leaving the statement open ended. His fingers squeeze at your skin.

He fidgets against you for a moment or two, “Yeah I — well, what you told me last weekend definitely piqued my interest.” You move so that his face isn’t buried in your neck anymore and you can see him properly. His cheeks are red, a color that’s barely left his features all night, and you reach up to cup his jaw, rubbing your thumb along his cheek to encourage him to keep talking. He swallows, “And I’d been thinking about talking to you about how I felt about you. But then when you said that — I realized I didn’t really know what that all entailed. So I did some reading,” his gaze is dropped, focused on your collar bones instead of your eyes. “Articles and podcasts and forums. There’s also a whole mess of videos on Tik Tok? I just… I wanted it to be really good for you. I wanted to be really good for you.”

“Fuck, Tommy, you were. So fucking good. But you’ve really never submitted to someone before?”

He presses his lips together, finally glancing back up into your eyes, “No.”

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, “Well you could have fooled me, puppy. You were a natural.”

He shivers at the praise, “Shit, I really like it when you call me that.”

You bite your lip, “I’ll remember that, puppy.”

And there’s that unspoken conversation about your feelings for one another. Something you’ll need to discuss at some point, but in the moment, it doesn’t hold the need to be explained, to be articulated because you can see the emotions swimming in his eyes, the intent behind his hands on your body. It’s the same intent your body language is telling him. And yes, one day you’ll discover just how deep those feelings go, but right now, there’s nothing more that needs to be said. Nothing that you both don’t already know.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #sub!tom #my writing

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stylesharrys · 4 years

Text

Boys Like You

A/N: Welp, it’s here and it’s a bit of a long one. I’m from England so naturally, I had to do a bit of research into American colleges in terms of living on campus and stuff. But, here it is, it took a while, so enjoy!

WC: 17,075

You felt stupid, completely and utterly idiotic. You wished to God you didn’t start to let your guard down, that you had stuck to that damn mantra you sang in your head. Boys like him don’t go for girls like you. You shake your head, biting back another sniffle.

It had been a month, you shouldn’t still feel upset about it, but you did. He was popular, smart, funny, gorgeous, kind, caring… and you? You were not popular, borderline clever, no doubt a dull sense of humour, and though you were kind and caring, you didn’t think yourself to be very pretty, let alone gorgeous.

You wondered for a while if you’d see him in the quad with a better, prettier girl on his arm. But you didn’t, and maybe that was what hurt more. The fact that he didn’t want you to see him at all. Not even in his moved on, happy glory.

You’re a quiet girl that likes books, Peter’s a fray boy that likes you.

Homecoming. The first home football game of the year, which, coincidentally fell on the first day of the new school year. If you were being honest, you secretly enjoyed the buzz of sweaty boys and cheering girls as they stampeded over the grassy playing field of MVU. Not that you’d admit that to Leone, though, especially after the way you promised to make it known just how much of a bad time you were having once you got there, when she told you that you had to go because she was “sick of watching you read your life away, book after bloody book,” in that godforsaken British accent everyone appeared to adore so much.

She was right, though, (again, not that you would ever admit to her and feed that monstrous, ever-growing ego); you were reading your life away, book after book when every other student appeared to know how to have a good time – whether that was guys chugging kegs and girls flashing their tits, or in a general case, attending the annual First Home MVU Game where the Milburn Vine Tigers fight to the death. Well, not really, though it was their slogan on all the cheap posters around campus since you had started.

Typically you’d spend the first night of the new school year (or any other night, for that matter) reading a good book while Leone trashed the dorm room with clothes and makeup before heading out for a night on the not so lively town. Only two hours from Long Island, Milburn Vine University housed over 12,500 students per school year and for two long, gruelling ones, you had been a blurred face amongst the crowd.

It wasn’t that you were completely invisible but rather kept to your studies and books and occasionally only participated in group projects if they were deemed absolutely necessary by the professor, or they offered a higher credit than working solo. It wasn’t that you didn’t have friends or that you were a complete loner. You had a few friends, you went shopping on the weekends when you weren’t working in the Bayford Hall Library and you had decent people skills, despite rarely ever talking to anyone.

You liked sitting in the candlelight of the shadows. You liked hot cups of coffee with your books. You liked the structure you had implanted on your life and you liked the few people you surrounded yourself with.

What you didn’t like was coming back to MVU for your third year after visiting your Mom for a week, to find out that you and your lovely Leone were no longer roomies because someone on the housing team fucked up and misspelt Leone as Loraine and you were now rooming with a dark-haired, red-lipped hottie that was dead set on giving you a makeover the second she laid eyes on you as you meekly introduced yourself.

She seemed nice, sure. A bright smile with what had to be way too white teeth and a pair of dazzling green eyes that resembled the jade in the pendant that sat on your neck. She had a plucky attitude about her and the slight crook in the corner of her seemingly friendly grin had an unsettling feeling in your stomach. A feeling that you tended to try so desperately to avoid. Trouble.

Leone didn’t seem as saddened as you had over the news of your cohabitating termination. In fact, if you can remember correctly, she’d actually gushed over your roommate and the major sex vibes she was apparently oozing. It had never been a secret that Leone didn’t put a label on her sexuality. Sex was sex and love was love. But you’d appreciate it immensely if your best friend didn’t fornicate with your new, slightly intimidating and incredibly pretty roommate, for your sake.

Her interest in Loraine had quickly subsided by the time you both got seated on the bleachers of the field, her train of sight dead set on one of the football players that ran laps up and down the field. You pursed your lips and curled slightly into yourself. With a thick black roll-neck and your fluffy pink teddy bear coat, you were still freezing; teeth chattering while you rubbed your hands together to form some kind of friction.

You never understood before why Leone loved attending the home games, but as you followed her eyes across the players, you felt a breeze of warm air rush up your neck and sit on cheeks and you knew why. Yes, they were incredibly attractive, and yes, Leone would no doubt go home with at least one of them, but no, you would not indulge yourself with the idea of doing the same.

“Number 6 could totally get it,” Leone sighed out happily beside you, a cheeky grin on her lips but her cheeks weren’t blushing like yours. Not even from the cold air. “Any and all positions. God, look at that face-” Standing abruptly from your seat, you let out a cheery sigh and cleared your throat. “I’m gonna get a hotdog. You want one?” you didn’t give her time to reply before you had scooted through the students in your row and bounced down the steps.

Letting out an icy sigh, you dipped your hands into your pockets and raised your shoulders closer to your neck to preserve the little warmth your coat was trying to sustain. The queue to the hotdog stand was seemingly never ending and no matter how thick your beanie was, it did absolutely nothing to block out the rowdy crowd around you.

You wondered how many chapters into Unnatural Causes you’d be by now if you’d fought harder and insisted on staying home… probably a decent halfway through with in-depth annotations in the margins, too. But, alas, you were stuck on the football field while your teeth chattered and stomach grumbled.

Amidst your little inner monologue, the queue had shortened and you were three people away from that little taste of heaven. Despite never having attended one of the school’s football games, you had tasted their infamous hotdogs, drowned in ketchup and mustard and the rolls were always buttered to perfection. Maybe it was the hotdogs that stopped you from fighting harder to stay home.

After paying for your delicious treat, with your hotdog in one hand and Leone’s in the other, you span around with a gleaming smile, butterflies in your stomach at the meaty smell–which all too quickly faded when a body collided into yours and the two slithers of heaven were splattered up your coat; chunks of sausage in the fur, matted by the sauces.

A solemn look was quick to take over your features and your stomach sunk. Well this is just great. “Woah,” the hotdog killer took a step back and held you at arm’s length and you had to physically will yourself not to cry over the gone but never forgotten food. Your hands dropped to your sides as you held half of the hotdog buns with mustard stuck between your fingers.

Letting out a sigh, you threw your head back. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you huffed and wondered if the night could have possibly gotten any worse. And maybe it did, or maybe it didn’t when you looked at the killer and your heart fluttered just the same as it had when your food was still edible.

Impossibly gorgeous brown curly hair, soft hazel eyes beneath rounded glasses and a bone structure that surely should not be allowed. You gulped, lips parting and why the hell have you never seen this absolute beauty on campus? Not that this meeting would ever mean anything or meeting sooner would have made a difference. Boys like that don’t go for girls like you and you were most certainly getting a little too ahead of yourself.

“It’s okay,” he laughed softly and fuck even his voice was pretty. You nodded and gulped, suddenly very aware of how close the two of you were standing and how stupid you must look with hotdog stains over your favourite coat.

His eyes fluttered across your body and you were almost certain he was… checking you out? No, surely not. A cocky grin did, however, tug at the corners of his lips and you quickly decided it was probably the greatest thing you had seen all damn week. “Can I buy you another one? I feel at least partly responsible,” his smooth voice asked and were you dreaming or did that sound like he was flirting… with… you…?

You blubbered like a fish out of water briefly before you clocked the expectant way he was looking at you and you cleared your throat pathetically, throwing on your most awkward smile. “I… uh, no, that’s okay. I should get back to my uh, my friend,” you just about managed to splutter without choking on your words.

You sidestepped as he did the same until you were both in the other’s previous positions and you were slowly walking back to the bleachers, eyes not leaving him and in a result, you bumped into the team’s mascot and clung to his paw to stop you from falling. Heavy blush on your cheeks that he could no doubt see from the ten feet away he was, the boy smirked and you span around, racing up the steps until you were hidden amidst the other students.

As the game kicked off to a start, you sat idly in your seat, picking at your thumbs and occasionally peering overheads of students in possible search of the hotdog killer, until about halfway into the game when you realise how absolutely ridiculous you were being and opted to stand with Leone instead, and cheer for a team playing a game you had no fucking clue about.

The Tigers went home with the Start of Year Cup while you went back to your new dorm with a ruined coat that would need intensive care from the dry cleaners and a rumbling stomach. You had desperately offered Leone to go back to your new dorm with you, to make it that little less awkward when you’d have to no doubt talk to Loraine but she immediately declined because ‘Kappa Delta Z is throwing the back to school party and number 6 is going’, so home alone you were going.

Not that that idea had lasted long. The second you had got back into your dorm and began unpacking the rest of your moving boxes, Loraine had very snippily told you you’d be attending a party with her tonight because apparently giving you a personality makeover was her newly acclaimed major.

After thirty minutes of trying to argue and trying on several of your ‘not so flattering outfits’, Loraine had somehow encouraged you into a tight black leather skirt you’d found buried in one of your boxes that you were certain belonged to Leone and a new burgundy lace bodysuit that she insisted you wore. She’d applied a little makeup on top of what you were already wearing–a red lip and a little wing of eyeliner on your lids. You let her do it, dress you up as her little dolly but when she showed you a pair of five-inch heels, you drew the line.

Standing outside of the Kappa Delta Z house, your stomach broke into somersaults as the loud music from within the walls reverberated through your bones. You’d been to a house party before, sure, quite a few of them back in your high school days when you’d drink your body weight in cheap wine and spirits but a college party? Never.

You promised yourself you’d have the full college experience without the parties and the drinking. But here you were, a day into your third year, breaking that promise. With Loraine’s arm hooked in with yours, she led you up the steps and into the house. It was packed; drunken bodies in a state of limbo, pressed against walls and pillars as lips messily danced, red solo cups and beer cans trampled across the floor. The bassy music vibrated the entire house and there was so much noise, you didn’t know what sound to focus on.

House parties had never been like this in high school. They were more social gatherings when someone's parents went away with approximately twelve of you playing would you rather while you raided their liquor cabinets. This was different. This was a party animal’s wet dream and you were living in it.

“Breathe it in, Y/L/N. This is what college is all about,” Loraine sighed happily, like the stench of sweat and alcohol was a drug to her and she just got her latest fix. You purses your lips tightly and huddled a little closer to her. Though she had forced you here almost against your will, you were thankful she didn’t invite her entire posse, too. At least without her friends, she’d feel more inclined to stay by your side.

She’d pulled away from your grasp all too quickly when she’d heard a cheer of her name being called and just like that, you were all alone in a strange house with unknown people in a surprisingly comfortable but all too revealing outfit. Nerves were quick to prickle at your skin and if you were going to survive this, to give Loraine’s idea a shot, you’d need a drink or three.

The kitchen was easy to locate amongst the sweaty nomads and pink-lipped girls, covered in spilt drinks and half-empty pizza boxes. For a half-second you actually debated on taking a slice, the growling in your stomach growing and you knew to drink on an empty stomach would be the worst idea, but what else has touched that pizza beside the dirty sock that was sitting beside it?

“Y/N?” you span around like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and heart pulsing. You visibly relaxed when you saw Leone, a drunken grin on her lips as she curled her body into Number 6 with a smirk. “Oh, thank God,” you sighed, shoulders falling in relief.

Leone raked her eyes up the length of your body and gnawed on her bottom lip. “My skirt looks hot on you,” she admitted, stifling a laugh at the way your cheeks blushed profusely and you shifted under her gaze. You didn’t feel uncomfortable over Leone’s comment, you never had, she was your best friend… but the look on Number 6’s face didn’t make you feel so at ease.

You flipped her off with a sarcastic smile and span back around in search of a clean glass or mug to finally pour yourself a drink. The second you had managed to pour yourself a little too much vodka with a drop too little of lemonade, Leone’s dainty hand had wrapped around your wrist and pulled you out of the kitchen and into the backyard.

For a frat house, it was actually very pretty. A makeshift gazebo had been put up with strings of fairy lights wrapped around the poles. Beanbags, office chairs and the armchair from the lounge had been dragged outside, blankets and pillows on the floor as extra seats and a bunch of students lounged around beneath the stars. An indie movie could never.

“We have our tenth player!” Leone slurred happily and she belted out a snorted giggle after. All eyes turned to you and that familiar blush sat back on your cheeks again in the pale moonlight. With twiddling fingers, you looked around the group. Leone and Number 6 sat cosily on the armchair, the two blonde twins you recognised as Jaz and Kelly, three faces you absolutely had never seen before and just to your left, the light-skinned boy you shared thee classes with and happened to be captain of the Tigers.

“Kam,” you breathed thankfully, stepping over legs and pillows and his eyes raked over your body in the most discreet manner they could when you plopped on the beanbag beside him, smile on your lips and he wrapped an arm around you.

“Hey, gorgeous. Nice outfit,” he winked. You rolled your eyes with a nervous laugh and settled further into his side. Kam was attractive, there was absolutely no doubt about that. Tanned skin, greyish eyes, full lips and dark curly hair. He was tall, too, just under 6 foot and the muscle on that boy was borderline orgasmic.

Not that you’d ever go there, or more like not that you’d ever have the chance. You met Kam the second week of your first year in introduction to psychology and he sat beside you because he was late and that was the only spare seat. Maybe it was a little punch in the gut that you were only friends because he had no choice but to sit beside you two years ago, but if he didn’t want to be your friend, he didn’t have to sit with you at lunch or bring you coffee the next time you had class.

Over the two years, you’d both became close friends, which also meant he told all the boys on the football team you were off-limits, not that any of them had ever or would ever show any interest in you, but part of you loved the protectiveness, even thought that maybe it could have meant something else, until he got with Zoe Preston and got caught fucking her in the canteen by a group of starters.

“Fuck, now where’s Peter?” Kelly threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes, leaning back against Jaz and you just knew Kam was rolling his eyes from beside you. “I’m here, I’m here, relax,” a smooth voice replied back and you craned your neck to find who the voice belonged to.

Hotdog killer.

He sat down on one of the pillows, half-empty bottle of beer in his hand and as his eyes scanned the group, you quickly looked away. “Right, Jaz, you first. Truth or dare?” Oh, great. Maybe this was like the high school parties after all. Jaz hummed in feign thought before clicking her tongue. “Dare,” she smirked.

Leone hummed with a smirk, like she was thinking of the perfect way to not make this whole situation seem planned. “I dare you to kiss Kam,” Leone stifled a laugh and Jaz stood with a triumphant smile, swaying her hips a little too dramatically as she sauntered over to Kam. To say you were uncomfortable when she straddled his lap and kissed him passionately would be an understatement.

You cleared your throat as you shifted slightly away from the two and busied your line of sight with the first thing you lock eyes with. Peter the Hotdog Killer. His eyes were already on you when you turned around but he wasn’t wearing his glasses this time and in the pale moonlight, he looked even more handsome than he had just an hour before at the football game.

His eyes not so discreetly took in your outfit and under the chill that sat on your skin, you realised how sheer Loraine’s bodysuit was and just how pearled your nipples had turned. That same blush returned much darker and sat heavy on your skin as you shifted your arms to somehow cover your chest without seeming too obvious what you were doing.

Peter knew, though, and his smirk grew as he tried to hide it. “Okay, gross, that’s enough thanks,” Kelly interrupted the heavy makeout session. Jaz pulled off your friend with a gasp of breath and smudged lipstick, swaying back to her seat and you turned to Kam with a gross grimace that he had to return but probably should have made sure Jaz didn’t see.

He pulled you back into his side and the game continued. You zoned out for a while, finding the loose pieces of thread on Kam’s ripped jeans much more interesting than the game at hand. Peter, however, was finding you much more interesting than Number 6 chugging a bottle of tequila. His head was tilted and a small smile sat on his lips. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask you on a date or fuck you over the table, especially in that outfit.

“Peter, your turn.” You both looked up at Kelly as she announced the next person and while curled into Kam’s side and his hand gently rubbed up and down your arm to keep you warm, Peter nodded his head. “Dare, obviously,” he shrugged, leaning back on his hands and his knees were bent; feet flat on the ground.

Leone noticed your staring, the way you eyed his thighs and arms and involuntarily nibbled on your lower lip. “I dare you to play the rest of the game naked,” she called out through a laugh and you knew what she was doing. You knew she’d caught you and was trying to get you to make a fool of yourself. You sent her a death glare and she winked.

Peter laughed and stripped from his top, your words lodged in your throat and you shifted uncomfortably. There was no way in hell he was actually about to play the rest of the game naked, right? Surely he was just going to take off his shirt and pants and play the game in his box— but they hit the floor and both his hands were cupping his crotch as he kicked the boxers off his feet and slowly turned, a gracious swirl.

His whole body was gorgeous. Golden skin and perfectly toned, a peachy ass and thighs you could ride for days. No, stop that. You swallowed back any desperate noises that tried to scream out and Peter kicked another beanbag to join the circle and plopped onto it, hand still in front of his cock until he grabbed the blanket and let it pool over his crotch but the thin material didn’t leave much to the imagination.

You swallowed again and forced your eyes anywhere but on him and suddenly the bathroom window seemed the most interesting thing you’d seen all night. “Y/N.” Or maybe it was the four-foot girl dancing on the table with a purple vase that had caught your attention.

“Y/N!”

“Hm?” you snapped out of your daze to see eight pairs of eyes staring right at you and the expectant gaze of Number 6, who’s name you learned to be Byron, boring into your skull.

You hummed again and he grinned menacingly. “Truth or dare?” A blush shouldn’t have risen to your cheeks at the same question you’d heard for the last twenty minutes, but when it was directed at you, the game suddenly felt a lot more serious than before.

Weighing out your options, you decided that maybe choosing dare around a group of people you didn’t know (save for Leone, Kam and the twins) wouldn’t be the best idea, so a truth would have to suffice.

“Truth,” you answered meekly and when a chorus of breathy laughs through gritted teeth sounded from the other players, you realised you may not have picked the correct answer. With furrowed brows, you looked around the group.

“What?” You asked, brows furrowed and Leone groaned from her seat beside Byron. “Babes, if you choose truth you have to do a dare related to the question asked,” she explained through a slurred hiccup and Byron clapped his hands, sitting forward with a cocky glint to his eyes.

“For your truth, out of everyone here, who would you rather kiss?” Another chorus of oooooohhhh mimicked their way through the group and a blush rose to your cheeks. You could quite easily say Leone and have this over with but Leone knows you think of her as a sister and that would be just plain weird.

You couldn’t choose Byron, not a single inch of you wanted to kiss him and the same could go for the twins and the two other players that you had paid absolutely zero attention to during the game. That left Kam and Peter and while Kam was incredibly gorgeous and kind and sweet, he was also one of your closest friends and kissing him would probably make you throw up.

That left Peter, the only logical answer. And it’s not that you wouldn’t kiss him if the opportunity arose. Because you absolutely would, but would he want to kiss you? Probably not. Because boys like him don’t go for girls like you and you should know that by now. You should also know that your mouth often runs before your mind can catch up.

“Peter,” you blurted and in a seconds delay, your eyes widened in realisation that you had, in fact, said that out loud. Peter’s smug expression was clear and Leone seemed overly pleased with your accidental slip. But you missed the way Kam’s smile twisted to a frown that he tried to quickly cover-up. Peter noticed it, though.

Oh fuck, now will you be dared to kiss him?

“Well, that didn’t take as long as I thought,” Leone muffled her giggles with her hand and while looking between yourself and Peter, smacked Byron on his bicep and whispered something that had his grin growing.

He clapped his hands together again, something he appeared to do a lot, and spoke. “Seeing as you chose truth and we all know if you pick truth, you have to do a dare linked to it… I dare you to sit in Peter’s lap—“ his menacing grin grew ten times wider when your eyes bulged from your head and you avoided Peter’s strong gaze.

Fuck you, Leone. If this was going to happen, at least there would be that sheer blanket between your bodies so you wouldn’t be sitting on his bare cock. But Byron clicked his fingers and all attention was back on him, “—without the blanket between you.”

Oh.

Kam shifted uncomfortably beside you and shook his head, about to speak but Peter beat him to it. “Byron, you’re such a dick,” he turned to you. “I’m not offended if you don’t want to do it,” his words sounded genuine and a soft flicker in his eyes told you he meant it, but you weren’t about to back down from the dare and look like an absolute idiot.

You shook your head and stood from the beanbag, much to Kam’s silent dismay and nervously strut closer to Peter. You could feel Jasmine’s crystal green eyes burn unto your body as Peter pulled the blanket back but respectfully covered his dick with his hand again.

Turning around, you parked your ass on the edge of his right knee and tried not to put your whole weight on his one leg. Byron barked a laugh and shook his head. “Absolutely not, sit on the guys lap properly,” he pointed, obviously less than pleased with your perched position.

With a nervous sigh, you wiggled yourself a little further down Peter’s thigh, ignoring the soft friction as your clothed core managed to rub against it as your skirt rode up just enough. Peter stifled a cough from behind you and with his hand still covering his nether regions, the game continued.

As another round made its way through the group, starting with Kelly who had to flash everyone her tits, you were growing colder and colder by the second and you could only imagine how cold Peter must have been feeling.

He noticed your shivering the second it started but after five minutes passed and you were still trembling on top of him, and not for the reasons they usually are, he leaned forward and his hot breath fanned against your neck.

“Are you cold?” And if you weren't before you certainly was now. Peter took the riddle of goosebumps as a yes and leant for the blanket, skilfully draping it across your bodies while keeping his dignity intact and you relaxed a little.

While the game continued, Peter had managed to snake his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him. You were straddling his right thigh completely, your back against his chest and his chin had found its rest to lean on your shoulder.

The position was far too intimate for two people that had only spoken once and you almost forgot that it was when he murdered your hotdog. But neither of you made an effort to move apart and as you shifted around slightly on his lap, you felt something firm press against your ass and you were suddenly very aware of how much your skirt had bunched around your waist.

You tried to clench your thighs shut, to stop that gushing feeling you knew too well as your cheeks grew heavy with a blush, but you forgot the fact that his leg was between yours so you incidentally ended up squeezing his thigh with yours and he absolutely felt your pussy pulse against his skin.

With rattling nerves, you grabbed your drink from the floor that Kelly had graciously given you when it was her turn to do the rounds and chugged the 80% vodka, 20% lemonade in two quick gulps. Liquid courage would be the only thing that would get you through this possible soul obliterating encounter.

But Peter’s hands ended up gripping your hips and gently, almost not actually doing it, he ground your hips against his thigh and you shuddered. There was no way in hell this total stranger—totally hot stranger—was about to get you off in his thigh in front of your friends while they played truth or dare, completely oblivious to your sins.

Peter tensed his thigh, flexing and gently bouncing as to not attract the attention of your friends. Under the blanket, your hand was gripping his left thigh while your other held his on your hip. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Peter was trying to get you off while only knowing your name and having only ruined your favourite jacket just hours prior.

The alcohol was beginning to take its toll and you could smell the beer and sweet apple cider on his breath when he sighed across your neck and brushed his lips accidentally against your tender skin. He wouldn’t admit it right now, but he was fucked. Something about those gorgeous eyes of yours and that damn outfit that he knew you didn’t choose to wear was driving him wild.

His hands stopped guiding your movements and soon you very slowly started grinding your hips against his thigh, riding it as the friction rubbed at your swollen clit and you soaked through your panties. You were sure he could feel how wet you were but at that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Maybe that was what Leone and Loraine were talking about. Maybe this was the kinda thrill and excitement you’d been missing out on when your head was stuck in a book.

One of Peter’s hands left your hip and you feel him reach back and rest it just beside your side. But then you felt his knuckles gently brush against your side, up and down, and you knew exactly what he was doing. You shuffled on his lap, slightly leaning to the side to cover his hands jerking movements from the rest of the group, but Kam sat directly opposite you both and knew exactly what you were doing with your not-so-discreet movements.

You could feel it bubbling inside you, that burning sensation as the knot tightened in the pit of your stomach. But before it could snap, a shrill scream had halted everyone’s movements and an icy cold glass of rum and coke was being poured on Peter’s face and splashed over yours. It took everything in you not to pull off his lap and expose both of you and your activities.

“Brina, what the fuck?” Peter spat, hands no longer on his cock and has wiping rum from his eyes while managing to offer you an apologetic smile. You frowned as you tilted your head up to the brown-haired girl. She was furious, smoke practically spitting from her ears like a steam train. Peter pulled the blanket further up his body to hide his raging boner and she glared at you, spitting in your face.

You jumped up in shock, leaving a sopping wet patch on Peter’s thigh and Leone raced to her feet and lunged for Brina, when Kelly pulled her back and Peter stood too with the blanket wrapped around his waist, hard on very clear to anyone in his line of sight. “What the fuck is your problem?” Peter spat again, standing in front of you while you wiped the spit from your face.

Everything happened so fast. Words were thrown and names were called, but all you actually picked up on was “I thought we had something,” and you were reeling back into yourself, blinking away your obviously delusional thoughts of your previous actions being a good idea and you let out a dry chuckle before Leone had pulled you away from the situation and took you home.

She offered to stay the night but you had assured her you were fine and that the whole situation meant nothing. But it even though it meant ‘nothing’, to you, it meant something; you just didn’t know what that something was. She went home and you fell asleep, awoken at almost four in the morning when Loraine rocked up back at the dorm and passed out the second she hit the bed.

You brought her a coffee the next morning after your shift at the library. She was still asleep at 11 when you got back to the dorm, but you left the coffee on her nightstand with a breakfast bar and got your books ready for your first class of the new year. You were surprisingly shocked to see so many faces in Professor Vado’s 101 Creative Writing after last year's fiasco where he threw the projector at Flash Thompson for vlogging in class. Though, saying that, you were shocked to see that Vado hadn’t been replaced.

The class went smoothly and you were able to get a headstart on your paper in your free period in the library. The paper that wasn’t due for another four weeks but if you got it written now, you could edit it sooner which meant you could submit it early and focus on your other studies and making your way through the book challenge you’d set yourself.

What a fun life you lived.

The next two weeks went by in a blur and you were able to submit your creative writing paper and pick up extra shifts at the library and campus cafe. The incident of the party had long left your mind after the third day but the same could not be said for Peter. The second he turned around and saw you’d disappeared with Leone, he’d gone to his room to sulk; head in his hands, pout on his lips.

Byron had followed him up, asked if he wanted to do body shots with some of the cheerleaders from the game and while Peter was usually game for anything, he declined and locked himself in his room. It wasn’t until he tore the blanket from his waist that he noticed the damp patch on his thigh from where your clothed pussy had sat. It sent his mind in a frenzy and he had to get himself off in the shower at the idea of you coming all over him.

Peter spent the next two weeks wondering what classes you took, where you might hang out in your free time. First, you infiltrated his waking thoughts, then it was his dreams. No matter how hard he tried, Peter just couldn’t seem to escape you. But maybe he didn’t actually want to. Maybe he actually enjoyed having you on his mind, sometimes even when he was fucking someone else.

But he had to get his head down because he had his first class in social sciences to get through and he could not afford to fuck up any of his above-average grades. Peter might like to party and fuck typically any girl with a pulse, but his priorities had always been education, education, education. A hot nerd that knows how to party, some would say.

As Peter shuffled his way into the lecture room, he found a seat in the middle row. Considering the class was supposed to start in three minutes, it was pretty empty and there hadn’t been a line waiting outside when he walked in the door. Pushing his glasses up his nose, Peter grabbed his laptop out of his bag and set his station up, cracking his fingers and clearing his throat.

A few other students filtered through the room and spread themselves accordingly and Peter supposed everyone probably had their own preferred seats and he hoped he wasn’t sitting in someone else’s. As Professor Swindle set up his slides, Peter noticed another student wander in the room. Coffee in hand, clad in black jeans and an oversized beige sweater, you plopped into your usual seat and set your belongings out.

His eyes bulged out of his head and for a second he almost didn’t recognise you in such a mundane outfit and without the winged eyeliner and red lipstick. You were just plain and simple and your hair wasn’t dead straight like the night of the party. Instead, it sat just below your shoulders in loose waves and he realized you’d gotten a haircut. Peter quickly decided he much preferred you in your plain and simple glory. Absolutely, gorgeous.

Peter struggled to focus the entire class, stealing glances at you whenever he could and only really paid any attention when he heard your voice discussing Freud and Marx. You hadn’t noticed him until he’d raised his hand and you heard his voice from a few rows behind you. When you span around and confirmed that it was indeed him, your cheeks grew hot and you turned back in your seat before he could offer you a smile.

Oh, God. Oh, God, he’s here. Just sink into your chair and he won’t realise you’re here and he won’t notice you. But he already had and you knew that, of course, you did and suddenly all you could think about was riding that damn thigh and his possible girlfriend spitting in your face.

You’d never been so eager for the class to finish and when it did, you were leaving before you even put everything in your bag. You had to avoid him at all costs. What happened that night was mortifyingly embarrassing and absolutely not you. You were about to make a run for it when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and you spun around with wide eyes.

“Hey,” he smiled happily, like he didn’t remember what happened that night. Maybe it would be for the best, as much as it’d be a blow to your non-existing ego, it’d hurt a little if he didn’t remember you at all. But that was what you needed to remember. Boys like him don’t go for girls like you.

You mustered up your best smile and choked out a nervous laugh that you tried desperately to bite back. “Oh, hi,” you greeted back meekly, smiling through tightly pursed lips and you were sure you looked like you were doing an impression of Kristen Stewart when you tucked your hair behind your ear after.

“I didn’t know you took social sciences. Professor Swindle’s a bit weird,” he murmured, falling in step by your side as you both wandered down the halls and out into the chilly afternoon air. Why was he talking to you like nothing happened? Did he really not remember or was he just pretending? What do you care, he’s not making things awkward so you need to act normal before you make everything uncomfortable.

You nodded with a hum. “Yeah, have since first year. And he’s… not so bad. You get used to him,” you shrugged. Peter nodded and a thick blanket of silence fell over you both. There was a massive elephant in the quad and neither of you particularly wanted to address it, but Peter bit the bullet.

“Listen, about Brina at the party–” you’d cut him off with a wave of your hand, “–Oh, that’s… that doesn’t matter,” you tried to dismiss the topic, not particularly wanting to take a trip down memory lane for him to tell you that it was a one-time thing and it didn’t mean anything. You weren’t quite ready for that this afternoon.

Peter shook his head and stopped in front of you, blocking your path. “No, no. It does matter. Brina was just like a friend with benefits type of thing and she didn’t get the hint the six times that I told her I wasn’t interested, and she absolutely had no right to do what she did to you, so I am so sorry, on her behalf, truly.”

You squinted at him with a slightly tilted head. Neither of you were entirely sure why he felt the need to explain that they were just friends with benefits, or that he made it very clear that they seemingly no longer were. Either way, meaning or no meaning, you were grateful for his sincerity and kindness. With a soft, genuine smile, you nodded your head. “It’s okay, thank you for apologising on her behalf.”

Peter let off a lopsided grin that quickly managed to form into a smirk and you knew exactly what was going through his mind and you needed to leave before he brought up the thigh riding incident. “You wanna grab a coffee or something? I’ve got a free period,” he offered and you so desperately wanted to accept but why was he asking? Did he feel inclined to? Did he want to pick things back up from the party and coffee was just a decoy?

“I would, but I’ve got a shift at the library in five,” you grimaced though, maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Were you really going to allow yourself to keep believing he wanted anything to do with you? To let the idea fabricate in your head that maybe he even just wanted you as a plaything like most boys like him would?

Peter nodded understandingly, though and didn’t push further. “Okay, next time,” he said, brows raised in a playful manner and you let out a humorous chuckle but nodded nonetheless. You watched his ass as he wandered off and out to the quad, backpack bouncing on his back.

Your shift at the library had dragged longer than you thought it would. You were meant to finish at 5 but after finally getting settled on your break, you decided maybe you’d just stay there when your shift was over and get something for dinner from the cafe.

Three coffees and a deli meal later, you were furiously typing away on your laptop, fingers cramping but you didn’t let the discomfort sway you from finishing the first chapter of your short story for your creative writing class. The topic was anything fantasy related, so naturally, your story was about a tear in realities and alternate universes.

Somewhere around the second chapter mark, an on cast of disturbance had tore you from your haze-like state. As you looked up from your laptop, a whole new group of students had emerged and taken over the first two large tables near the mythology section. You huffed and shoved your earphones in, connecting them to your laptop and pressing play on your writing playlist.

Your eyes were focussed on your screen again so you didn’t notice Peter as he wandered over to his group’s table, a few moments later. He saw you, though: how you gnawed on your lower lip and slightly furrowed your eyebrows in concentration. You were still wearing that sweater from this morning and he was reminded about his coffee date offer when he saw four to go cups lined up on your desk. And by the looks of your face, he figured you could do with another.

He left his group and returned five minutes later with a cup for himself and a cup for you. He made his way over and placed the cup on your desk, sitting opposite you as he waited for you to notice his presence. You saw his arms first, crossed and leaning on the table. Then you saw his signature smirk, then the slope of his nose, then his glasses.

“Peter,” you breathed, and part of you felt like you were in a fairytale as a soft string quartet was composed in your ears. He reached over and tugged on the wires of your earphones, effectively pulling them out of your ears and he grinned, pushing your coffee around your laptop and to your side.

“You looked like you needed it,” he said with a smile, a little laugh soon following and you laughed back, nodding your head and thanking him. “You have no idea, this project is killing me,” you sighed, head falling into your hands and you rubbed your eyes, slightly smudging your mascara but it couldn’t have been that bad because Peter didn’t say anything.

“What is it?” He asked, taking a swig of his latte. You huffed a piece of hair out of your face. “It’s a short story for my creative writing class. It’s about this scientist where his daughter mysteriously vanished and he thinks she’s trapped in, like, an alternate dimension of something and he’s trying to make a tear through reality,” you rambled on, missing the way Peter’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.

You waved a hand dismissively at yourself. “It’s nerdy and not completely done so I won’t bore you with—“ he cut you off with a grin, “—Can I read it? That sounds awesome!” He was pulling your laptop from your grasp before you could even really comprehend what he said and by the time you did, he was already on the second page.

“Oh God, it’s not—it’s not done and I still have a bunch I need to change because it’s not like scientifically accurate,” you mumbled as your voice slowly died off into a nervous whisper. Peter continued reading with pinched brows, his lips gently moving as he recited the dialogue.

It was silent between you both for a few more minutes until he nodded his head and handed the laptop back to you. “It’s good, you’re really talented,” he praised, a blush rising to your cheeks again and that seemed to be a constant state for you as of recent.

“But uh, if you need any help, I know a thing or two about the quantum realm and alternate realities,” he coughed out quietly, like he didn’t really want you to know he was actually a major fucking nerd beneath the cocky grins and persona.

You raised a brow. “You do?” Peter hummed and took another swig of his coffee. It was no secret that Peter was a borderline genius with perfect grades, but admitting that out loud often made him feel like a boasting nerd.

“I know a guy,” he shrugged but he absolutely was not about to spit facts about space and time if you asked. At least, not in the middle of a packed library, anyway. You grinned at him with wide eyes. “That’s so cool,” your excitement almost got the better of you and you forced yourself to sit back in your seat and take a breath.

You didn’t know why he came and brought you coffee. You didn’t know why he chose to sit with you and read your story and offer future support if you ever needed it. You didn’t know why he was being so nice. You didn’t know the guy before the party and you still hardly knew him then. But what you did know was that any guy that hot and that popular, tended not to be that kind.

Peter cleared his throat again and broke you from your daydream. “Uh, I’ll leave you to your story, but it’s great—don’t stress too much.” You watched him walk away and join his group across the library from you and between the heads of other members on his table, he could see you smile to yourself as you typed up another chapter plan.

Three milkshakes in and a stomach of Patty’s burgers and fries, you were struggling to keep yourself from throwing up. What had started as a quick study break at Patty’s Diner had ended with Peter coming in to order food to-go, seeing you, and deciding to join you. You didn’t mind. If anything, when you saw him, you kind of prayed he’d choose to stay and was more than pleasantly surprised when he did.

You’d been in there for almost two and a half hours, talking about the more mundane and seemingly boring things about each other, opposed to the normal homework talk. You learnt that Peter's parents died and his aunt and uncle took him in when he was young and a few years ago, his uncle died too so he was currently alone with his aunt. You learnt that he loved science and math, that he was secretly a massive nerd and had sat back and listened to him rave about Star Wars.

It wasn’t all one-sided, though. Peter had learnt a lot about you, too. Like how you loved reading and oversized shirts and hoodies. He learnt that you had an older sister from another dad, that you hated the taste of tomatoes and more importantly, that your first and last boyfriend had only asked you out as a dare, which you found out after five months of dating when he humiliated you in front of everyone.

“Wait… are you serious?” he asked, dropping his empty milkshake to the table and screwing his brows. You nodded with pursed lips, tried to smile through it but why should you? Why should you pretend that even though it was three years ago, that it didn’t hurt? “Yup, lucky me, huh,” you laughed nervously and the shared bowl of fries between you no longer appeared very appetising.

Peter observed you for a moment, head tilted. He couldn’t understand why or how anyone could do something like that to someone as wonderful as you. A kind, beautiful, funny soul like yours. The thought of someone using you, no doubt sleeping with you, pretending to love you, all to humiliate you in front of everyone made him feel sick.

“But, the past is the past and we're told not to dwell on it,” you sighed as a more content smile crept its way across your lips and Peter admired your strength and ability to put something like that behind you, so gracefully.

He sat back in the small booth with a faint smirk on his lips. “I really like you, you know that?” You almost took that with another meaning. Almost. Choking out an awkward, you cleared your throat and shrugged with that stupid blush on your cheeks.

“Glad our friendship is satisfactory.”

… What?

You pursed your lips, biting back the frown that was desperate to tug on your brows. Really? Satisfactory? You miss the way Peter’s cocky smile slightly falters, too busy mentally scrutinising every word you had said over the course of the evening.

The sloppy sound of a wet mop hitting the floors had snapped you out of your inner self-criticising and you quickly realised it was almost midnight and the diner was closing. Peter drummed a quick beat on the table and cleared his throat, thumb jutting over his shoulder to the door.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” It wasn’t an offer, it was a statement. You were about to argue that you could take the bus, but the last one was two hours ago and you didn’t feel like walking back to campus with a handful of books, wearing a ditzy dress and converse with no jacket.

With a tight-lipped smile, you nodded your head and threw down a twenty to cover your bill. He watched you out of the booth first and pulled a twenty of his own from his pocket, tucking it into your notebook before picking a few others up and walking you out of the diner with a soft smile.

He wasn’t about to let your pay and you’d find that out tomorrow in the library when you were studying. Peter opened the passenger door for you, piling your books on your lap once you were settled and closed the door. You’d been in his car a few times by now and you were always pleasantly shocked that each time, it was clean, tidy, and smelled a lot like mint and lavender.

The drive was short, roads dead, but you enjoyed sitting idly by his side, watching the muscles in his forearm flex slightly whenever he shifted gear and part of you wondered if he was tensing on purpose. He didn’t need to do that for you to notice his muscles. He was wearing a tight, short-sleeved black t-shirt all night and his biceps were bulging.

You pressed your thighs together again and you were all too quickly reminded of the last time you did that in his presence. Your eyes had wandered slightly, subtly, and all he had to do was reach his arm out that little bit further to rest that gorgeous hand on your upper thigh, maybe push your dress up just a litt—

No, Y/N. Stop that!

By the time Peter had pulled up outside campus, you were almost certain you’d leave a wet patch on his front seat if you got up, no doubt soaked through the fabric of your dress. He pushed his glasses up his nose and turned to you, a friendly yet handsomely cocky smirk on his lips.

“You good? You look a little flustered,” he noted the blush creeping up your neck and you tried your damn hardest not to choke on a moan. Peter’s smirk only grew, not that you knew that, but it did and he appeared thoroughly pleased with himself.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah—no, I’m fine… just a little warm in here and I’m tired,” you forced out a yawn, one that made Peter cock his brow but he didn’t say anything on the matter. Instead, he hummed while nodding his head and took off his seatbelt. “Okay, I’ll walk you up,” he was already climbing out of the car, jogging around the bonnet and opening your door.

“Oh… okay, thanks,” you tried not to blush any harder and let him take the stack of books from your lap and you took off your seatbelt. Getting out of the car was proven a little harder than thought. You’d swivelled your ass on the seat, feet on the pavement but your dress had ridden right up your thighs and Peter got the most delicious view of your white lace panties.

You shimmied across the seat and out of the car, quickly spinning to pull your dress down and checking the seat. Phew, no wet patch. Peter gently kicked the door closed and nibbled on his lower lip, struggling to get that sinful view out of his mind.

You led the way to your dorm building and Peter trailed close behind. He was pleasantly surprised to see you wander straight up the steps, that there wasn’t a passcode or keycard needed to enter. Each dorm room opened out to an open arched hallway that overlooked the left end of the quad.

He followed you up another flight of steps, occasionally dipping his head to see if he could get another peek of those lace panties, but to no avail. He did, however, get the wonderful view of your round ass as your dress hugged your waist with each step up.

By the time you got to your dorm, he’d memorised the way and had 162 engraved solid in his mind. “This is me,” you pursed your lips, awkwardly extending your hands and arms out to present the door. Peter nodded, grin on his lips and you turned on your heels to unlock your door.

He followed you in, placing your books on the little table beside the door. It was cute, your side at least. Your desk wasn’t neat like he’d pictured, nor your bed. You had books stacked and papers array on your surfaces and your bed looked almost too inviting with the copious pillows and scattered blankets across the foot of it.

He nodded, appreciative of being able to see this more personal side of you. It wasn’t that you didn’t open up to him, because you did, but you didn’t exactly speak much of your interests or share your feelings in the way he so freely did.

“It’s nice,” he hummed. “Cosy.”

You laughed nervously, scratching the back of your head and rocking on the balls of your feet. A blush was rising to your cheeks again as you looked over at Loraine’s side of the room; pink sheets and pillows and blankets, everything neatly organised with a gorgeous vanity by the bathroom, stacked with her makeup and hair products.

God, he must have thought you were a mess.

It was awkward for a moment before Peter cleared his throat and took a step back to the door. “I should probably go,” he murmured softly, a small smile painting your lips but you wanted him to stay—not that you’d ever admit that to him or anyone else, for that matter.

You walked him back to the door, twiddling your thumbs in front of you as you stopped. “I had fun tonight,” he grinned cheekily and your stomach fluttered. He had fun tonight… wasn’t that something you said at the end of a date? Was this a date?

“Uh… yeah… me, too,” you quickly replied quietly, mentally convincing yourself that he did not mean it that way and that your little run-in definitely was not a date. But then Peter slowly crept closer until your chests were pressed together and you could feel his minty breath against your face.

You held yours, afraid you’d choke on air or end up saying something incredibly stupid that would ruin the moment completely. Was that what this was? A moment? Were you having a moment with Peter Parker?

His nose nudged yours and with one hand on your hip and the other cupping your cheek, you decided you were definitely having a moment and his lips were on yours before you could internally shrill and fester over what the fuck the entire thing meant.

You were kissing him back, though. Your mind had thankfully caught up with what was happening before you did and you melted into his touch. Peter’s hand crept its way from your hip to your cheek and he cupped them together, deepening the kiss. Your arms had wrapped themselves around his waist, tugging him closer.

Your heart was thumping in your chest, sporadic and frantic. You were kissing Peter Parker. You pulled away with a deep breath, lashes fluttering as you tried to catch a grip on reality. His hands still cupped your face and his thumbs were stroking over your cheekbones.

With swollen lips and adoration in his eyes, Peter reached down to kiss your lips again and bump the tip of his nose against yours. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered, pecking your nose and he shuffled away, down the hall.

Things had changed drastically in the course of a month and tomorrow never came. You were almost too ahead in your studies and had far too much free time on your hands to even know what to do with it. You’d hoped that Peter would have kept you company through some of it, though. Occasionally beta reading your stories or bringing you coffee while you worked a shift at the library.

But your phone didn’t light up with his name and a silly meme anymore. He didn’t bring you coffee when you were studying, he didn’t walk through the quad to your class. He appeared to have vanished like there wasn’t even a trace of him.

The first few days, you figured maybe he was sick or too deep in his studies. But he wasn’t showing up to classes and something was incredibly off about his science partner and friend, Ned, when he shrugged you off whenever you asked if Peter was okay.

But after a week, you got the hint. He didn’t like you. He didn’t feel anything for you. He very clearly regretted the kiss and to make you see just how much, he obviously thought he needed to ghost you entirely. To say it hurt would have been an understatement. It felt like Corey all over again, using you, playing you.

But he kissed you, not the other way around. Surely he must have felt something for you, or else why would he have kissed you? No, maybe it was just a pity kiss. Or maybe he did feel something, but realised you were an awful kisser and—

“Will you quit moping? It’s depressing.”

You peered over your book with furrowed brows. Loraine sat at her desk, toes on the foot of her bed as she coated them red. Things had been rocky with her. One minute she was offering you advice and curling your hair, the next she was chewing you out for not organising your desk.

“I’m not moping,” you murmured back from behind your book, shuffling further into your comforter and your psychology essay was still in your bag from four days ago. The need to start it wasn’t even there. Planning essays and writing short stories did nothing to take your mind off what happened. Not even reading the stupid book you’d had in your hands, stuck on the same damn page for over twenty minutes.

You heard her scoff from across the room and soft shuffling that followed but didn’t bother to look up from your book. “Whatever, I’m out for the night, don’t wait up,” she blew you a kiss and strutted out the door, slamming it shut behind her and you let out a sigh. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

An hour had passed and you’d barely managed to read two more pages. Before you could even sigh and give up; throw the book across the room and scream into your pillow, a soft tapping knocked on your dorm door and you prepared yourself for a drunken Loraine to do a quick outfit swap, or maybe Leone to join you in moping seeing as her and Number 6 were no longer an item.

You were more than a little shocked, however, to see neither of the two, but a tear-eyed, hopeful looking Peter Parker. Bile bubbled in your throat at the sight of him. This was it, the public humiliation that he saved until last.

He looked solemn, sad even. His eyes were red and puffy, glasses long gone and his usually ironed black t-shirt was wrinkled and a pair of grey sweatpants sat on his hips. He drank you in, though. Your messy hair and glossy lips, the miss-matched pyjamas and how inviting your bed still looked.

“Peter—“

“—I can explain everything,” he cut you off, taking a desperate step forward but you took a tentative step back, shaking your head. You let out a nervous laugh, to not let him see you so broken and hurt. “There’s nothing for you to explain, you don’t owe me anything, we kissed that was it,” you shrugged, hovering behind the door.

Peter shook his head, displeased with your answer. “No, it was more than that… the kiss meant something and I don’t want you to think I don’t feel anything for you,” he tried to get out, voice strangled. You laughed and shook your head. Was he being serious?

“Peter, I know you don’t feel anything for me and that’s okay. We kissed, but that’s all it was to you. Don’t try and give me false hope or this let-me-down-easy bullshit. I know the drill, okay. Boys like you don’t go for girls like me—I’m used to it.”

The door slammed on his face before he could get another word in and with your back pressed against it, you sunk to the ground. Your chest began to heave, a panic rising in your throat as you buried your head between your knees. Tears were quick to trickle down your cheeks and you felt stupid for allowing him to make you feel so hurt without him even knowing it.

Peter rested his forehead against the other side of the door, taking a deep breath. He never meant to hurt you, never was it his intention—and he didn’t expect for one night's mission to become a three-week-long trip to space and almost lose his life. He would have come back sooner but May refused to let him out of her sight and if he was being honest, he didn’t really mind. Going on those types of missions where your entire existence flashes before your eyes and you wonder was it all really worth it takes a toll.

“Y/N, please,” his pained whisper barely travelled through the door but you heard it. You heard him. His palms rested against the hard oak and he squeezed his eyes shut, lips pursed tight. “Please, just—just let me explain, I really like you.”

Your heart fluttered at the admission and you wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that the longing looks and subtle touches, the coffee dates and late-night talks all meant something. You didn’t want to believe he could be lying, that he was the type of person to do something like that. You wanted to believe that he could like you.

You sniffled back the tears and rose to your feet, wiping beneath your eyes. Opening the door, Peter took a step back in shock; his eyes wide and hopeful. You didn’t make eye contact—instead chose to stare at his chest as you opened the door wider and stepped aside, allowing him to come in.

With wide eyes, Peter slowly stepped inside, standing in the middle of the room as you closed the door. It was warm, cosy. The only light was the one emitting from your nightstand, and even then it barely cast a dim, tan glow over the room. You turned around and folded your arms over your chest, expectantly, trying to hide the fact that your heart was leaping in your chest and your desperate want to crumble into his arms.

Peter looked frantic, bloodshot eyes and a rosy nose. The longer you looked at him again, the more you noticed. Like the dark bags beneath his eyes, the bruises and cuts in his knuckles and the slight graze on his left cheekbone. “Pete,” you mumbled, taking a step forward and as much as he wanted to pull you into his arms, he stretched his hands out to stop you.

He knew you were vulnerable, and he was not about to take advantage of that in any way. “Just, just listen to me for a minute, let me explain, please… I, I want to tell you the truth,” he stuttered and you were sure you felt your heart sink a little.

You nodded your head with pursed lips and watched as Peter sat on the edge of your bed. You leaned against your desk, hands clasped in front of your thighs and he took a deep breath before clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry I just disappeared out of nowhere and didn’t return any of your calls. My uh, my phone broke—“ You cut him off with a pathetic sigh. Was he really about to use the broken phone excuse? A broken phone for an entire month means you can no longer live on campus or attend classes? Yeah right.

Peter’s eyes widened and he shook his head like he knew what you were thinking. Of course, he did. “No, look—I know how bad that sounds and it’s not an excuse, I don’t have an excuse. I have a reason—an explanation for all this,” he tried to rephrase.

He could see the hurt on your face, the absolute heartache in your eyes and he wondered if you were comparing him to your ex-boyfriend. You weren’t. “Look, there’s no easy way to just say this and I know I’m gonna sound like a complete nut job, but—“ he reached into his backpack and in a fist, pulled out a red piece of fabric.

You frowned as he stared down at it for a moment, like he was debating whether or not he should actually show you. “The reason I disappeared out of nowhere is because of the internship with Mr. Stark—“

“Internship? What internship? Mr… like Tony Stark?” You cut him off again and he nodded, eyes bright but quickly shook his head again and sighed. “Yes, well, no. I never told you about the internship because it’s not really an internship, that’s just what I have to tell people so they don’t know what I’m really doing for Mr. Stark or I’ll be in trouble and he won’t let me do this anymore—“ Peter rambled animatedly, his hands swaying in the air and you struggled to hang onto any words he spluttered.

“Pete, slow down,” you interrupted, cheeks flushed and he nodded while gulping back and taking a deep breath. There was nothing you wanted more than to stand between his legs and just let him wrap his arms around your waist while you played with his gorgeous brown hair. But you had to remind yourself that you were both never at that stage to begin with, and depending on what he had to say, it was likely you never would.

“I didn’t ignore you after the kiss because I didn’t like you, because I do. I really, really do,” he choked. “I ignored you because I had to go away for a week to help do something really important, but a week turned into a month in space and I didn’t have a damn phone and—“

You blinked, eyes squinted. “Did you just say space?” You asked. Peter clamped his lips shut and stared at you for a moment, gauging your reaction. You didn’t understand how he thought lying would make the situation any better. “Peter, you’re not making any sense. If you don’t like me and you regret the kiss, that’s fine just tell me, stop trying to make up stories to—“

“I’m Spider-Man.”

You blinked again. “What?” You swallowed the lump in your throat. Peter’s knees bounced up and down as he gnawed on his lower lip, eyes frantic. Your own eyes raked down his body to his clasped hands in his lap and you realised that red piece of fabric was Spider-Man’s mask. There was no way… right?

“I’m uh, I’m Spider-Man. And I was on this mission with the other Avengers and we ended up trapped in space and I almost died, and all I could think about was my Aunt May and how I never called you or told you how much I like you,” he admitted through a choked voice.

You stared at each other for a second long eternity before he cleared his throat, stood up and spoke again. “I’m sorry for not telling you and for just disappearing, and I get it if you don’t wanna see me again...” he couldn’t finish his sentence, get to the part where he still wanted to be your friend but he’d respect your wishes if you didn’t want that, before you were tackling him into a bone-crushing hug and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Stay.”

Peter balled the mask up in his fist and wrapped his arms tightly around you. You felt utterly safe in his arms like he did in yours. And there was something exciting about being so close to him like this; being able to faintly smell his cologne and that vanilla shampoo he used. Even beneath his jacket, you could feel his tense back muscles.

Peter held you tighter as he inhaled the jasmine scent of your shampoo. Your hair felt like soft silk against his cheek and feeling the gentle curves of your body pressed against his had his shoulders relaxing just a little. He didn’t want to let go of you, found himself too enamoured with the touch of you.

You did pull away though, much to his dismay and held his soft cheeks in the palm of your hands. Peter’s hands dropped the mask to the floor and found purchase on your hips. “Stay,” you repeated, nose bumping against his and with his warm breath fanning across your lips, he nodded.

When morning rose, you were both still wide awake, faces inches apart and tiredness had begun to take over. The entire night was spent in the arms of one another, soft giggles and wanton tears. It was hard to understand that Peter Parker was the suited hero swinging around Queens that you’d seen in all the YouTube videos, (and that one time on your way home from the library late one night), and maybe it was because you didn’t want to imagine him bloody and bruised, or because even though he was a cocky shit, you couldn’t picture him saving the world.

He learned more about you, too. Like your favourite colours and foods. How you usually have to watch a sitcom to put you to sleep, or that the one time you didn’t put milk in your tea, you got hit by a car (that your Mom was driving) and broke your arm. A night of talking and you saw Peter in another light.

He was never just a cocky frat boy in the first place, but now he was the furthest thing from it. He wasn’t a dick or some mean jock. He was a nerdy science major that was a secret superhero, volunteered at the soup kitchen and organised yearly house parties for $10 a ticket and gave all the money to charities. In high school, he was bullied for being a nerd but puberty hit him a second time before college and now everyone wanted to be his friend or in his pants.

You also learned that even though he had a cocky reputation of being a little sleaze, he’d only slept with three girls in his lifetime and while one had been a one night stand, the others had been from serious relationships, which he included Brina in. Kissing was another story and so was getting his dick sucked, but it was just something you became envious of… not that you’d admit that to him yet.

“Do you have any classes today?” he asked through mumbles and his eyes fluttered closed, lashes fanning across his cheekbones. You shook your head with a soft hum. “No, I was just going to mope around all day and study,” you teased, though it was the truth, no matter how sad that made you look.

Peter grumbled and pulled you into his chest, mumbling out incoherent apologies into the pillow which you giggled in reply to and shook your head. “I’m just messing. Let’s just stay here and sleep,” you told him, cosying further into the bed. Peter hummed again and let you snuggle into his chest before he kissed the top of your head.

By the time you’d both drifted off into a much-needed sleep, Leone had been blowing up your phone nonstop and you’d completely slept through it. Which led to her almost knocking your door down at three in the afternoon with her insistent knocking. Peter had stirred before you and ninja-crawled out of the bed. The room was still dark and he tripped on his shoes on his way to the door when he opened it.

Leone’s worried expression had morphed to one of a surprise to one of anger in a half second and Peter swore he saw his life flash before his eyes with the steam of rage that burst from her ears. “Leone,” he piped up, voice unusually high-pitched and she pushed past him and into the room.

You were sitting up in the bed and rubbing your eyes when you saw her, head in flames in anger and all. “What are you doing here?” you mumbled out through a yawn and she scoffed. “What am I doing here? No, what the fuck is he doing here?” she seethed, jabbing her hand over her shoulder to Peter who remained by the door, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

You grimaced at her tone and let out a heavy sigh, throwing your head back into the pillow. “Explain,” she demanded, arms crossed over her chest. Before you could sit back up and tear into her, Peter cleared his throat while shoving his feet into his shoes. “Um, I’ll go, but I’ll see you tonight?” he asked, ignoring Leone’s death glare.

She didn’t take too well to the excuse that you’d mustered up on the spot. Apparently an urgent thing for Peter’s internship and a broken phone wasn’t a very believable or good enough excuse for her. In the following weeks, she seemed to have lightened up about the situation, no longer offering death glares or flipping him off every chance she got.

For three and a half weeks, you and Peter had grown inseparable. He’d switched seats and sat with you in class, kept you company during some of your shifts at the library where he’d bring you coffee and sit and study, or sometimes just ask you where certain books were that he absolutely had no need or interest in, but it was an excuse to talk to you without Mandy telling him off because it wasn’t a work-related question.

Late-night diner dates had become the norm for every Tuesday and Thursday night; feeding each other fries and sharing three milkshakes. Occasionally, Peter would show up with a few bruised knuckles and a grazed cheekbone but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Though you hadn’t put a label on whatever the hell it was that you were doing, you still snuck kisses when no one was looking and held hands under the table like a bunch of preschoolers.

Neither of you was sure why you were so secretive about whatever you were, but maybe the little thrill you both got from kissing behind partially closed doors was the fun of it.

It was Friday night when Peter had texted you about his frats party… the same party he’d been telling you about all week and that you promised you’d go to. So, come 9 p.m. and you were outside in a tiny little cocktail dress, texting Pete that you were there. You didn’t wait for a reply but pocketed your phone in the little purse you took and made your way inside.

The party was in full swing; drunken bodies and puckered lips. Your shoulders had curled as you held yourself tightly. Parties still weren’t your thing, you’d only attended to see Peter again after a long week of barely seeing each other. Nerves fluttered in your stomach at the thought of seeing his cocky smile and cheeky wink.

But finding him wasn’t as easy as you’d hoped and after asking a few of his friends, they told you he was waiting for you in the yard. He was waiting for you. Giddy with excitement and nerves, you’d made your way pushing through horny college kids and toward the back door.

You push to your tiptoes and see those brown curls in the yard, your smile growing. You push past a few more and the breeze of the night air is an instant relief to your clammy skin. He hadn’t seen you yet, too busy in conversation with awkwardly dancing to the muffled music from inside. You made your way over, cheesy grin on your lips but a familiar brunette clung to his side and rubbed her lips over his neck before sucking like a fucking vacuum.

You didn’t standby to wait and see what he did back, instead you spun on your heels and crashed into a bunch of bodies and red solo cups. You didn’t bother to apologise like you usually would, instead you pushed past more partygoers and made your way further into the house.

Your head was swimming. You knew you never put labels on anything, that technically you weren’t dating but you were only seeing him… were you even seeing each other? Or was it just like flirtatious banter between two friendly people? Was the occasional kisses just a bit of fun for him? Did he not think of you as someone he’d like to date… as someone he was dating? Were you?

Too busy in your own dilemma, you missed the way Peter shoved Brina off him with disgust. You missed the way he told her to leave him the fuck alone, how she stomped off in a sulk and it wasn’t until a gentle hand had wrapped around your arm that you realised he was trying to follow you back into the house.

Without a word, Pete led you through the rowdy groups and up the stairs. You walked blindly with his hand on your waist guiding you. You hadn’t been upstairs yet, had no reason to, but as Peter stopped you from going further and quickly opened a door on the left, you figured you were about to get to know this part of the house a lot better.

Peter turned the light on and ushered you inside, closing the door behind you both and the obnoxious bassy music from downstairs was immediately muffled. You took in your surroundings.

The room was a decent size. There was a big double bed right pushed in the left corner, a dresser opposite it with a flatscreen on top. A large window was directly opposite the door and the curtains were already closed. A clear nightstand stood beside the bed and to the right of the room was a hole-in-the-wall-closet, a neatly organised desk and besides that, a door that you presumed lead to a small bathroom.

It was cosy; dark blue walls and white IKEA looking furniture. The bed sheets looked clean and the bed itself was made clearly in a rush. There was a pair of jeans flung over the desk chair and Peter’s backpack was slumped under the window. This was Peter’s room.

You crossed your arm over your chest and held your elbow, lips pursed as you stood idly. Peter rummaged through his dresser before pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a nerdy science joke shirt that you bit back a laugh at. “Here, go change,” he handed you the clothes and pointed to his bathroom door.

Once the door was closed behind you and you got a good look at yourself in the mirror, you took a quick, shaky breath. What now? You change into his clothes and go back to the party looking like you were ready for bed? If anything, after seeing a pair of lips locked on his neck, all you wanted to really do was go back to your dorm and maybe have a little cry.

But did you really have the right to be so upset? Yes, you did. You liked him and he told you he liked you, too. Of course, you were allowed to be upset. You shook your head and rid yourself of your clothes until you were in a pair of black lace panties and you shimmied into his sweats and shirt. By the time you were done and hand scrunched your dress up in your hands and left your heels by the sink, Peter was standing topless at the foot of his bed, turning on his TV.

Your throat felt tight and you shouldn’t have been blushing like you were because you’d seen him in his naked glory (save for the sheer blanket on his lap that night you first met), but now you were in his bedroom, in his clothes… alone. You cleared your throat, making your presence known. His red shirt from before was shoved on the floor by his dresser and his jeans were folded on his desk—and oh those sweats were hanging dangerously low on his hips.

He turned to you with a wide smile, a proud smirk of seeing you in his clothes and you pursed your lips. Taking your eyes away from his gorgeously perfect torso meant having to face the purple hickey in the room and you sighed silently. “I figured as your dress was ruined and all, we could camp out up here and watch a few movies?” He asked hopefully, though he had already put Netflix on and pulled the covers back a little.

Your eyes were too focused on his neck to really register what he was saying and he quickly followed your line of sight and frowned. “What are you…” he trailed off as he wandered to his desk, picking up the little mirror he had on there and his eyes widened in shock as he rubbed his neck and realised the darkening bruise wasn’t coming off.

“Guess you’ve been branded, huh,” you tried to joke but your words came out deadpanned. Peter continued his futile actions of scrubbing the skin of his neck raw, but it only somehow added to the darkness of the bruise. “No, no, no, no… that is not what it looks like, I swear,” he rushed out, spinning on his heels. You smiled through thin lips and shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean it looks like a hickey on your neck,” you solemnly replied, eyes glued to the ground and Peter stilled, lips parted and head tilted as he blinked at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s a hickey, but I– I wasn’t…” he didn’t quite know what he was supposed to say. Did he tell you that he didn’t know she gave him one? No, because then it looks like he was hooking up with a chick and he didn’t know she left evidence. Does he tell her he didn’t want her to leave one? No, because he would still look guilty.

His mouth blubbered like he was trying to find the right way to phrase it, but you spoke before he could. “Look, it’s whatever. We’re not dating or you know, like… we’re not… I mean are we even anything? You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re not my boyfriend, if you wanna have some other chick leech on your neck, that’s fine.” Your words were like vomit, just spewing past your lips with no control and left a bitter taste on your tongue.

What if you just fucked it all up? What if he decided you were right and that there never was and never would be anything but a friendship between you both?

The look on Peter’s face suggested otherwise. He looked confused, hurt and a glimmer in his eye promised fondness. What? Peter took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. You were sitting on the edge of the right side of his bed, hands in your lap and lips pursed.

“No,” he grumbled, hands falling to his sides and he looked at you like you put the stars in the sky and sitting in his clothes that were just a little too big, his heart swooned. “She just–she just came out of nowhere and I haven’t spoken to her since that night at the party when we met, okay. I swear,” he told you, hand on his heart and you knew he was being genuine and honest.

You can’t imagine he’d lie to you after he told you his biggest masked secret.

You sighed and rubbed your hands down your thighs. No matter how relieved and thankful you were for the explanation, you would much rather have preferred an answer as to what you were to him. “Like I said, we’re not dating… we never put any labels on whatever this is, so I don’t expect an explanation,” you reiterated, daring to look up into those honey glazed eyes.

Peter nodded softly, gnawing on his bottom lip. “No,” he mumbled through a croaky throat, a teasing smirk pulling on his lips. “But I really like you and I definitely wanna put a label on it,” he admitted with a cheeky smile and a blush was quick to sit on your cheeks again. He walked toward you slowly, like a lion stalking its prey and you shuffled back on his bed, eyes blown.

“And I get the feeling that you want that, too,” he mumbled, his nose bumping yours and your breathing hitched in your throat. He hadn’t kissed you yet but your entire body was igniting in flames, burning a hellfire that you knew was condemning you to him. Your eyes were fluttering closed as you slowly nodded your head and just like that, his lips were on yours.

Everything was heightened with the feeling of his silky lips on yours and you could barely make sense of anything else. Peter crawled between your legs and onto the bed until your back was flat against his sheets and he laid between your thighs. Your fingers found purchase in his curls as his lips enveloped yours in a passionate frenzy.

Peter pinned his hands on either side of your head, hips gently rolling against yours and as your (his) shirt rolled up your torso, you felt the warm skin of his abdomen graze against your stomach and you were blinded. His touch was warm, kiss intoxicating and as Peter licked at your bottom lip before curling his tongue into your parted mouth, you lost all grip on reality.

You kissed him harder, eager, dirtier. Your hips rolled up off the bed and into his crotch, your own confidence shocking you but you weren’t going to back down. Peter groaned into the kiss, sitting up on his knees slightly and he reached for your wrists, pulling your hands from his hair and pinning them to the bed above your head.

He pulled out of the kiss, eyes blown and staring down at you. You were panting beneath him, lips swollen and eyes glassy. You were putty in his hands and he fucking knew it. “Please,” you whimpered into his mouth, a breathy moan fanning across his lips and Peter released one hand on your wrist and bunched up the hem of your shirt.

You nodded against the kiss, the silent permission he was looking for and he pulled back to tug it up and over your body. Your breasts were plump and full, nipples pearling in excitement and he let out a shaky breath. “Could’ve told me you weren’t wearing a bra,” he swallowed thickly, hands cupping the underside of your boobs and you let out a nervous giggle, eyes fluttering closed when his lips wrapped around your left nipple and sucked.

Your chest arched into his face, both hands tangled in his brown locks in attempt to keep his head where it was. Peter hummed against you, flicking his tongue over the swollen nub and you could feel your pussy fluttering beneath his touch. You were growing eager as he alternated and paid attention to the neglected breast, loving all over your chest but you needed more.

“Pete, please just touch me,” you cried breathlessly into the air, eyes fluttering helplessly and Peter hummed again. He reached a hand between your thighs and fingered his way into your pyjama pants and whimpered against your chest. No panties. The tip of his middle finger nudged gently against your clit and you gasped, fucking desperate to be touched properly.

Peter slid his finger further down, collecting your juices and swirling it around your hole. You shuddered against his lips, head rolling back and his lips fell onto your naked chest, peppering your collarbones in kisses. He pulled his hand from your pants and crawled down your body, tugging off your leggings and panties.

You whimpered, bottom lip sucked into your mouth and your eyes fluttered closed. You wanted nothing more than to watch him between your thighs but an overwhelming insecurity riddled your mind and you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

Peter kissed and nipped at your inner spread thighs, licking stripes and blowing cool air against the damp skin. Your hands flew to his hair, fingers ruffling his curls and Peter’s cock strained at the sight of you. Pussy swollen and soaked, chest heaving and the swells of your breasts gently bounced with each shaky breath you took.

He pulled back just enough to pull his shirt from his torso and throw it blindly across the room. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he coaxed your eyes open, massaging your thighs and you let out a deep breath. He nestled between them again, hot breath on your core.

“Wanna see you when I make you cum with my mouth,” Peter whispered. You didn’t have time to react to what he said before he was swiping a long lick up the length of your pussy and sucking your throbbing clit into his warm mouth.

With a sharp intake of breath, you arched off the bed and rolled your hips against his face. Your head fell back against the pillow, eyes rolling as he suckled on your nub and flicked his tongue across it sporadically.

Everything was almost too much when he teased two slender fingers into your hole, massaging and curling in a come hither motion. You shuddered under his touch, tugging harder at his curls and he hummed against your pussy, the vibrations sending shock waves through your body in the most electrifying sensation.

“Pete, oh my God,” you whimpered breathlessly, desperate and eager to catch a breath but he had no mercy, sucking and licking and fingering faster with every pant you choked on.

Peters hands on your thighs tightened, squeezing hard enough that his fingernails began to dig into the meaty flesh, creating half-moons in your skin. You couldn’t feel the pain of it, though… just the undeniable pleasure as your coil began to tighten and legs began to shake.

“I’m gonna… Pete, I’m gonna…”

But he pulled away abruptly off your clit and knelt between your thighs. “Changed my mind,” he grumbled out, awkwardly shuffling out of his pants and boxers, throwing them across the room blindly and his leaking cock bounced. “Wanna make you cum on my cock instead,” he grinned.

You let out an involuntary moan, hips thrashing uncontrollably in excitement and need. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this needy, but you were certain you’d explode if he didn’t touch you right away. You nodded quickly and sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, biting back cries of desperation.

Peter watched in awe as your body twisted when you reached into your nightstand, retrieving a condom, but a bright pink friend of yours caught his attention before you shut the drawer. He leapt forward and held your wrist, reaching for the little bullet and sitting back on his heels between your thighs with a sick smirk.

He didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed crimson, or how you completely avoided eye contact and refused to look at the vibrator you used whenever Loraine was out for the night. Instead, you stared up at the ceiling, ready for the ground to swallow you whole.

But then you heard the vibrations sound through the near-silent room and your body jolted as it was pressed against your clit, a long mewl drawing from your lips. Peter smirked and reached for your hand, guiding it to your pussy to hold the vibrator in place, resting on the hood of your clit.

You watched with hooded eyes as Peter tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth and slowly slid the rubber over his thick length. He watched your pussy pulse and clench around nothing, a groan reverberating through his chest and as he slid his length between your folds, a shallow gasp tore through yours.

Peter could feel the vibrations from your toy as your walls clenched around him. He slid in further, grip hard on your wrist but your eyes were rolling back at the stimulation you were getting from him and the toy at the same time. You bit back a cry as he bottomed out, cock thick and long and almost tearing you in half.

“Holy shit, you’re so tight,” he praised breathlessly after finding his pace. High pitched moans and whines were spilling from your tongue like honey and he was soaking them up, loving the sight of your tits shaking gently as your thighs trembled and chest heaved.

“Fuck, Peter… faster, please,” you choked out, one hand holding the vibe in place while the other gripped at your breasts—alternating between the two and tugging sharply on your nipples. Peter cursed out a sigh and picked up his pace, pounding sporadically into you, his balls slapping at your ass.

Your back arched off the mattress when he hit a spot he hadn’t before and a shriek was quick to follow. His hidden eyes lit up as he fucked into you harder—faster. “Like that, baby? You like that, huh? Right there,” he seethed through gritted teeth.

Your eyes were rolling, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth and the squelching sounds of his cock tearing your pussy apart was music to your ears. You were incoherent, unable to form sentences or utter words other than muffed yes, yes, yes’ into the void.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire and for a moment, you were certain your soul left your body as you cake hard all over his cock, screaming and crying his name as you blubbered and trembled under him. The sounds of your desperate cries only spurred him on to chase his release harder and he exploded in the condom, body falling on top of yours and he trapped the vibratory between your abdomens.

Coming down from your high, you didn’t feel the crushing weight of his body on yours until you tried to pull the vibe away but your arm was trapped. Peter buried his face into the crook of your neck, peppering kisses and mumbling words of praise and encouragement softly in your ear.

He finally pulled off you and took the vibe away from your throbbing core, turning it off and leaving it to lay beside you on the bed. Peter pulled out slowly, your whines of protest not falling on death ears and he tugged off the rubber and tied it into a knot. He let you lay there for a moment, in your post-orgasmic haze.

You wondered what he’d do now. Would he cuddle you and hold you? Ask you to leave? Act like it never happened? You expected the worst, prepared yourself for it in the twelve seconds he left you alone for. But when you felt a cool cloth on your core wiping your down, and a gentle hand caressing your ankles, tears began to pool in your eyes.

Peter noticed, of course, he did. He somehow always managed to notice a change within you. He frowned, taking in your teary eyes that were definitely not from the orgasm. “Hey, Princess… what is it? Did I do something wrong?” he worried, second thoughts swarming through his mind that maybe you didn’t like it as much as he thought, or maybe you felt pressured into sleeping with him or—

“No, you’re perfect,” you choked a teary laugh. “You’re so perfect and I don’t deserve perfect. I don’t deserve you,” you explained through sniffles. Peters frown grew thicker and he crawled up your body, covering you with a blanket as he laid beside you.

“What are you talking about?” He asked softly, hand reaching over to cup your cheek and you nuzzled into his touch, letting him wipe his thumb beneath your eye to smear away the tears. You flittered your gaze over to him and pursed your lips, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and exposed.

“Cause boys like—“

“I don’t wanna hear you say that ever again.” His stern voice cut you off before you could finish and you pursed your lips shut, eyes widening. Peter’s lips were in a tight line as he sat you both up just enough to cup your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him and listen to what he had to say.

“Don’t you dare say that ever again. I’m falling in love with you and that whole boys like you bullshit is just that. Bullshit.”

You blinked.

Peter swallowed.

“You’re what…”

Peter’s cheeks burned red and staring at you for a moment, he realised that though he didn’t mean to say it, he meant it. “I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #imagine peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel imagines #imagine marvel

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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

Text

The Five Times (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader recounts the first moments she shared with her new neighbor.

A/N: I finally wrote a pure fluffy fic! This is a complete 180 from my previous fics. I hope I did the genre justice. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for being an awesome beta! Enjoy.

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.2K

Masterlist

The first time I met my neighbor, I was moving into my new apartment. The movers from the company I hired were kind enough to bring up my heavier furniture, but I was stuck with the boxes holding my miscellaneous objects.

This was my fifth trip up to my apartment and I still had at least ten boxes lying around in the lobby. My body was starting to get tired from all of the excessive movement.

I heard the familiar ding of the elevator, signaling its arrival. With my current pace, I wouldn’t be able to get in before it closed.

“Hold the elevator!” I quickened my stride, hoping whoever on the other side of the door would be kind enough to adhere to my plea. Luckily that was the case, as I saw a hand shoot out to keep the doors from closing.

Once I made my way inside, I placed the boxes down, allowing my arms a few seconds of rest. I turned to my companion, noticing his tall figure, kind eyes, and small smile.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, what floor?” His voice was soft and sweet. He smelled like cinnamon and coffee. The words that immediately came to mind when I took all of him in were cozy and home.

“Second floor, thanks.” Just then, I noticed that the button was already lit up, signaling that it has already been pressed. “Oh, I guess we’re floor mates,” I commented with a light laugh.

“I guess we are.” There was a momentary silence as the elevator rose up the two floors. I saw him observe the boxes scattered on my feet. “I’m assuming the other packages downstairs are yours,” he stated.

“You got that right.” The doors opened with a ding as I tried to quickly pick up and balance the items in my arms once again. Before I could say something, the kind stranger grabbed one of my boxes and held it in his hands.

“You don’t have to,” I started to protest, “I don’t want to be wasting your time.”

“It’s fine. Helping people is what I do.”

I wanted to complain, to put up more of a fight but my body was already starting to feel weak. It’s been hours since I’ve rested and the heat was not helping my current situation.

With that in mind, I begrudgingly accepted his help. “Okay, but I owe you one.” I led us down the hallway, taking a turn until we were in front of door #24.

“Wow,” I heard him whisper to himself. I was confused as to why he made that comment. Did I do something weird? Is there something embarrassing on my pants?

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I live across from you. I’ve never had a neighbor my age before.” He pointed to the door that was behind us, a small smile adorning his face. I couldn’t help but reciprocate with a grin of my own.

“Wow indeed. I promise you I won’t have loud music or multiple visitors.” I open the door, pushing it wide enough for my neighbor to easily go through. I gestured for him to place the box on the floor while I put mine on top of the kitchen’s table.

“Do you want help with the rest of your stuff?” he asked, taking note of the disarray in the small space.

“Yes, I’d appreciate that.”

We finished bringing the rest of my stuff back to my apartment in record time. What would have taken me five trips was cut down to two. I thanked him profusely throughout the whole ordeal and he laughed every time I did so. Once we had all the boxes inside, I made sure to see him out the door, thanking him a final time for his help.

“It’s not a problem, really,” he said, his voice getting slightly higher in pitch. “Uh, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid by the way. Y-you can call me Spencer. It’s less of a mouthful. Or Reid, whichever you prefer. I answer to all three.”

He had the shy smile on his face once more and I couldn’t help but repeat his name in my head. Dr. Spencer Reid. “Pleasure to meet you Dr. Reid. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

It was at that moment that I associated Spencer with kindness.

●●●

The second time I saw Dr. Reid, I was jogging at the park. It has been two months since I last spoke to him and I felt a twinge of sadness at our lack of interactions. I figured since I was the first neighbor he had his age, that we would be seeing each other more often. Guess that was wishful thinking on my part. I shouldn’t be too upset, he’s a doctor after all; his hours must be crazy.

I was slowing down on my run, searching for a nearby fountain to fill up my bottle. Instead, I found Dr. Reid sitting on a bench, skimming through a thick book. The happiness that filled my body should be embarrassing, I only talked to the guy once. Nevertheless, I made my way too him.

“Dr. Reid!” He startled a bit, almost dropping his book. He looked up, a smile gracing his face when he recognized it was me.

“Hi (Y/N). How are you?”

“I’m pretty good, long time no see,” I stated, hoping he’ll hear the humor in my tone. He gazed at me and for a moment I felt self-conscious. I’m a sweaty mess right now. Loose strands of my hair were sticking to my forehead and my face was red.

“You-uh-went for a run?” he stammered out. A slight pink tint crept on to his cheeks, which I am pretty sure was due to the sun’s rays.

“Yeah, I try to get some exercise here and there when I can. How’s everything going at the hospital by the way?” Maybe if I find out what his schedule is like, I’ll be able to see him more.

“Pardon me?” Crap, did I say something wrong? I tried to recollect the small amount of information I gathered from him when we first met. I don’t recall him mentioning where he works. Maybe he has his own clinic.

“Sorry. Do you have a private practice?” I hated how nervous my voice sounded as I asked him. Spencer’s look of confusion quickly morphed into one of mirth. He let out a small laugh and I became more perplexed by his actions.

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he clarified. “I hold PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering as well as BAs in Philosophy, Sociology, and Psychology.” His voice lowered a bit at the end and he started looking elsewhere once he finished his statement. Was he ashamed of his accomplishments? I hope not. If I were him, I’d be bragging to anyone within listening distance of my achievements.

“That’s very impressive, I barely know what’s going on in my own profession. You must be some kind of genius,” I remarked with awe. His head snapped back at me, probably trying to figure out if I was pulling his leg.

“Well, I do have an IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory. I can also read 20,000 words per minute,” he stated, his voice returning to its usual octave. I glanced at the book on his lap, he probably was reading the text instead of skimming through it like I initially thought.

“So if you’re not a medical doctor, what do you do? If you don’t mind me asking,” I wondered.

“I work for the FBI, with the BAU. Behavioral Analysis Unit. We catch serial killers, terrorists, rapists, and other criminals by analyzing their personalities.” I would have never guessed this man was a federal agent.

“Wow, so you’re a professional hero then.”

He laughed once more before shaking his head, “I’m far from a hero. I just use my skills to my advantage. It’s all in a day’s work.”

I can now add humility to my mental list when describing Spencer Reid. With every moment I spend with him, my infatuation seems to grow.

I was going to continue talking when an insistent cough came out from the man to our left. He sat in front of the chess table, staring at us expectantly. His eyes kept on dashing between Spencer and myself. I scowled at him, wondering what his problem was.

“Uh this is my friend Eric,” Spencer said to me, gesturing to the coughing man. “Eric, this is (Y/N), my neighbor.” Great, now I feel like a jerk for thinking of his friend in such a rude manner.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Likewise.” His eyes returned to Spencer, gawking at him as if he had a secret. However, Spencer’s attention was on his phone and I saw his features change to a stoic expression.

“I have to go; it's work,” he said to the both of us. He gathered his items and stood up from the bench. He turned to me, “Hopefully I can see you by the apartment more often.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed, “See you soon, neighbor.” I flashed him a smile and waved goodbye. He returned the gestures as he walked away.

At that moment I associated Spencer with bravery.

●●●

The third time I saw Spencer Reid, I baked too many cookies. It’s been two weeks since I last saw him, but I knew he was working hard. I heard him come in pretty late last night when I was finishing some chores and decided to come up with a reason to see him. Hence the cookies.

I tried to make sure I appeared decent this time around. So far, the only times he has seen me, I’ve been sweaty and tired. After applying a small amount of makeup and putting on my favorite sundress, I was ready to go.

I made my way across the hallway, balancing the plate with one hand while knocking on his door with my other. I didn’t need to wait that long before the door opened. Only the person I was expecting was not behind it. My smile immediately left my face.

“Hi, can I help you?” asked the beautiful petite blonde woman. Oh god, this is probably his girlfriend. And I am over here pinning over him like a pathetic little girl. If the ground could have swallowed me up, that would’ve been a blessing.

“I made these for Spe- uh Dr. Reid. As a thank you for helping me move,” I quickly stated, hoping she doesn’t hear the dejection in my voice. “Can you please give these to him?” I stared down at my shoes as I pushed the plate towards her hands, cursing my own for being a bit shaky.

“(Y/N)?” I heard a lowly voice whisper. I turned back towards the door and saw Spencer standing behind his girlfriend. He whispered something in her ear before motioning for her to go inside. She glanced at me quickly before doing as he requested. Great, so they both know about my little crush and now he has to come let me down gently.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, although I am sure he had an inkling with the way he was eyeing the plate still in my hand.

“I baked some cookies. Chocolate chip.” I cleared my throat, hating the way it clogged up so fast. “As a thank you for helping me. Had I known your girlfriend was over, I would have given you some more.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my colleague,” he corrected, that shy smile that I grew to love on his face once again.

“Oh.” A sigh of relief left my body only for it to stiffen once more. Sure she’s not his girlfriend but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one.

I debated whether I should ask him if he's single or not, but figured that would be pushing boundaries. I shouldn’t be asking someone such intimate details about their personal life, especially on the third encounter. But then again, it’ll be nice to know his relationship status before I dig myself too deep in this hole. However, he deserves to tell me that kind of information without me pestering him. Although he migh---

My thought process was interrupted when I saw a hand, Spencer’s hand, waving in front of my face. He had an expression of confusion yet amusement on his face. He was the only person I know who was able to pull off the look.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” He asked with slight concern in his voice. Or at least I’d like to imagine that there was slight concern. I’d like to think he cared over my well-being. I shook myself out of my stupor, returning my attention back to him.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted. What was it that you were saying?” I noticed I was still holding the plate so I quickly placed them in his waiting hands. Gosh, how many times am I going to embarrass myself in front of this man?

“I said that it’s a good thing that I don’t have a girlfriend. I wouldn’t want to share these with her.” Spencer’s voice had that timid tone once again, the one that reminded me of when he was talking about his accomplishments. I saw the redness on his cheeks which I’m sure matched my own.

“You never know Dr. Reid, these may be the worst cookies you’ve ever had,” I teased. I couldn’t hide my current contentment no matter how hard I tried. The more I talked to him, the more I wanted to spend time with him.

“I highly doubt that. If they’re as sweet as you I’m sure I’ll enjoy them.” I felt butterflies in my stomach at his statement. I’m pretty sure my face got even redder because all I felt was heat enveloping my form.

“Well, my door is always open if you want more,” I responded. And to think that I wanted to drop dead on the floor a few minutes ago.

“I’ll be sure to take you up on the offer,” he smiled, this one bigger than the others I have seen so far. My heartbeat picked up a little and I prayed that he didn’t know the effect he had on me.

I needed to go back to my sanctuary. I can only handle so much before I internally implode and that’ll do neither of us any good.

“See you around Dr. Reid.” I started a slow retreat to my door. Once I made it inside, I turned to see he was still staring at me.

“See you (Y/N).” He waved to me before closing the door.

At that moment I associated Spencer with warmth.

●●●

The fourth time I saw Reid, I wasn’t prepared. The day was going on pretty normally. I did my daily routine and made a trip to the grocery store. Thankfully, it wasn’t packed so I was able to go in and out within minutes.

I was placing my purchased items in my car when I heard a noise behind me. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I’d typically ignore it, but my mind was screaming at me that something was off.

When I turned around, I saw a man with a bloody knife in his hand staring at me a few feet away. He seemed as if he came straight out of a horror film, the crazed look on his face made me very uneasy. I thought that this had to be someone’s idea of a sick joke.

He slowly made his way towards me, knife up ready to strike. I didn’t bother closing my trunk before I jumped into my car, thanking the angels above that I left it on and running. I turned my key in the ignition, preparing to drive off when all of a sudden this man was at the driver’s window.

He was pounding hard against the glass repeatedly, leaving bloody prints in his wake. I screamed as I saw cracks forming, knowing it was a matter of time before he would hurt me. Pure adrenaline kicked in as I stomped on the gas pedal. I zipped by him, feeling a bump as I most likely ran over his foot.

I kept driving, not stopping until I thought I was in a safe area, which happened to be a relatively deserted dead end. I called 911 and told them about the situation. How they understood me through my hysteria is beyond me but I was informed that help was on the way.

I watched around my surroundings, noting the few people that did walk by. They stared at my car with concern but I didn’t care. I was hyper-vigilant now, holding my keys as if they can offer me a smudge of protection. All I could hear was the sound of his footsteps, the sight of the bloody knife occupying my mind.

Even when the cop cars and black vans pulled up, I did not feel safe. I stayed inside, not daring to come out. Despite seeing a middle-aged cop approach my passenger door, I still jumped when she tapped on the window. It reminded me of the pounding I heard barely fifteen minutes ago.

Tears streamed down my face as I felt myself hyperventilate. Oh my gosh. oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I could have died just now. I could have been dead. It would have taken a few seconds for him to plunge the knife into me, taking away my life. My body would have probably been cold before anyone would have notified the authorities.

The driver’s door opened and I held my keys closer to my chest. I know that it was irrational of me to get defensive over the people that I called for help but I couldn’t help it. My body was still on fight or flight mode and there was nowhere else for me to run to.

“(Y/N). It’s me, Spencer.” What? Is my mind playing tricks on me? Bringing forth the person that could offer me the best comfort at this moment. But as I turned my head, I took in the sight of him. Spencer was here, he was actually here.

“Sp-Spe-Spencer,” I cried out, tears still trailing down my face.

“Yes, I’m here. Can you grab my hand? Can I take you out of there?”

All of sudden, I wanted out of this car. I quickly jumped into his arms, holding him as close to me as possible. The scent of coffee and cinnamon helped to relax me.

I felt his arms wrapped around me, his hands running soft circles against my back. “Shhhhh. It’s okay. You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Proud? Of me? I didn’t do anything remarkable. I panicked and ran.

“Do me a favor. Breathe with me. Follow the way that I breathe,” he stated, his voice offering me serenity and calmness. He could have asked me to jump over a bridge or deep dive into the Atlantic Ocean and I would have done it at the moment.

I obeyed his instructions; inhaling and exhaling the same way he was. I followed the movement of his chest, captivated by the soothing rhythm. The adrenaline slowly started to leave my body. The blood rushing in my ears gradually decreased in volume and my breathing began to lengthen once again.

“Reid, the ambulance is here. They can examine her.” I heard a deep baritone voice say. I didn’t want to go, I didn’t want Spencer to leave me. I tightened my hands around him and buried my face even deeper into his chest, enveloping myself in his scent even more.

“It’s okay Hotch, I’ll take care of it,” I heard Spencer say. The vibration of his chest as he spoke brought warmth to me once again. I wish we could be in this position under different circumstances.

“The paramedics need to check you,” he whispered to me. “But I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I’m not going to let you go.” I peeked over at the ambulance, feeling my heartbeat picking up once more. I didn’t want to go, but I had to have faith in Spencer. I gazed up at him, needing affirmation of his previous statement.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He offered me that small smile of his. The one that is full of comfort and tenderness.

I believed him. I trusted Spencer more than I feared the unknown.

He kept his word. Spencer stayed by my side the whole time I was with the paramedics, the car ride back to the precinct, and the duration of the questioning I received from some of his teammates. He even drove me back home and walked me to my door, promising to check on me in the morning.

At that moment I associated Spencer with safety.

●●●

The fifth time I saw Spencer, I was making dinner. It’s been a couple of days since I last saw him and my life was slowly returning to normal. I still flinched when I heard loud noises and I strayed from using my bigger knives. However, the nightmares have decreased and the therapist I’m seeing is very helpful. I hope I can go back to being the person I was before this incident.

I heard a gentle knock on my door. I made sure to calm myself down before answering. Unexpected loud noises still frighten me but I am slowly moving past it. I made my way to the entrance, checking the peephole before answering.

I unlocked the door, welcoming the sight of Spencer on the other side. It amazes me how fast my lips tug upwards just from looking at him.

“Hi (Y/N).” He gave me a small wave and an even smaller smile. “We caught him. He won’t be able to hurt you or anyone ever again,” he promises.

Something tells me that he didn’t have to come over here to personally deliver this message. Sure, we’re neighbors, but he didn’t have to go out of his way to tell me information that can be delivered with a phone call or a text.

“Thank you. I really appreciate you telling me this.” I took in his form. He appeared tired, more so than usual. I guess he just got out of work, especially since he still had his satchel on him. He didn’t even go back to his place before coming to mine.

The small pause lingered between us. Spencer looked like he was debating on what to say next. “Well, enjoy the rest of your evening.” He started taking small steps towards his door.

“Wait,” I shouted. The word came out louder than anticipated in the quiet hall. He startled a little but stopped walking to focus his attention on me.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” I asked, hopeful that he would accept my request. “I assure you there is plenty of food. Plus, it’ll be nice to be in your company again,” I finished. His head tilted as he stared at me, a bewildered expression on his face. I felt mine heating up as I realized the mistake I made.

“Uh I-I mean to have company. It’ll be n-nice to have company again,” I rushed out. I anxiously waited for his response as he contemplated my invitation. His hands were fiddling with one another and I saw a slight blush decorating his cheeks.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal,” he stated with a smile that I returned. I moved out the way, allowing him to enter my lovely abode.

“You can place your jacket and satchel on the coat rack. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.” I made my way back to the kitchen, checking on the food to make sure it hadn't burned. I then opened the fridge, grabbing my pitcher of water.

“I like the way you arranged your furniture. Your living room looks a lot more spacious than mine.” I heard Spencer commented. I poured the water into a glass before walking back to where he was standing. He was admiring the small stack of books I had on my shelf.

“Thank you, I tried to make the most of what I got. I’m glad it worked out.” I handed him the glass of water which he graciously took from me. I cursed myself for staring at the way he drank the cool liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow.

“Dinner is almost ready,” I stated, my pitch coming out higher than normal. I hoped my face was not as red as it felt.

“It smells amazing. Would you like me to set the table?” he asked.

I looked at Spencer again, noticing that he had a different smile on him. This one was wider and more genuine. I could see his white teeth peeking through. This smile gave me a sense of domesticity, affection, purity, and more. I am sure the grin on my face matched all the emotions I felt for him as we stood in front of one another in my living room.

At that moment I associated Spencer with love.