#bc the only time my fucking brain wants to come up with the next part of the plot
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#archive of our own#ao3 stuff#ao3 quotes#archive of our own quotes#fanfic#fanfic quotes#funny#ao3#ao3 tags#Author Has No Plan And It’s Causing Her Problems#how dare you call me out like this#it’s not like I’ve been staying up an extra hour every night trying to write a single one shot#bc the only time my fucking brain wants to come up with the next part of the plot#is when im already cozy in bed and halfway to being asleep
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Never Have I Ever [p.p]
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: When Peter meets you at college and you two bond over your lack of sexual experience, you quickly become the best friend he’s ever had. But while he falls madly in love with you, he doesn’t know if you feel the same. You hold his hand when you’re out together, talk to him about the vibrator you want to buy and bless him with that beautiful look in your eyes that is reserved only for him… yet he’s not sure if you see more than a friend in him. Little does he know, you’re wondering the same about him, hoping for the same outcome.
Warnings: smut (all first time, oral f + m receiving, dry humping (semi-public? but it’s completely uninterrupted and unseen and in a remote location lol), masturbation (f with a sex toy and m with the reader’s underwear), vaginal sex – the second half of this is basically all smut), a sprinkle of jealous Peter, Professor Garfield lol, a little bit of angst ig bc Peter keeps doubting himself and thinks he’s a pervert but he’s just dumb as shit and oblivious, (all Peter’s pov <3), fic starts off with an awkward and embarrassing story lol, alcohol/drunk!Peter, (btw if first year of college sounds a little young to you you can always imagine they just took a break between hs and college), idk how college works in the usa, also I mention Peter's enhanced senses but it's not a Spiderman fic at all lol
Word Count: 23k omg, the longest thing I’ve ever written (if that’s too long for you i’ve put four ‘dividers’ in total so it’s split into 4 more or less equally long parts (the first is like 4k, second is 7k, then 4k again and the last is 8k) but of course you can ignore that and just read all of it in one go, all 23k are in this post, it’s a one shot)
It's finally here! Thank you for all the love I received for the teaser and just talking about this fic already 💘 This has been on my mind for so so long and I’ve been (sporadically and inconsistently) writing it since like September. I’m so glad it’s finally finished, this was one of my favourite wips I‘ve ever worked on, I really loved writing Peter and the reader and their dynamic and experiences and I hope you love reading it just as much 💖
｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡
It’s Peter’s first week of college and so far he barely knows anyone. The guys in the rooms next to Peter’s are cool, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more people, so he decides to go to this party he’s been hearing about all week.
The party is exactly how he imagined it; loud music, drinking games, a pretty girl sitting next to him. So pretty that he doesn’t dare look at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him staring and think he’s being weird.
The game you’re all playing started as a simple never have I ever, but somehow people are now telling their funniest sex stories. Peter doesn’t realise it’s part of the game that everyone tells a sex story until it’s your turn and he notices how the last few people all told a story, one after the other, going around the circle you’re all sitting in.
His heart starts thumping harder in his chest. He doesn’t have a sex story to tell. But if he gets up now it will be obvious that he’s avoiding his turn, right?
Fuck.
Besides, he wants to listen to your story. He just has to hope that his usually clever brain will help him come up with something when it’s his turn.
“Most memorable sex experience…” you hum in thought as you lightly drum the bottle in your hands against your lips. “Oh wait, this one’s funny. The guy I was with asked me if I peed myself when he took off my underwear because he didn‘t know that women get wet when they‘re turned on. I explained it to him but he wouldn’t believe me.
“He was sweet about it and told me it happens to the best of us — and that he sometimes pees himself too. So at that point, I just saw it as a second chance from the universe to show me what this guy was like and I left.”
The students around you laugh and comment on the story and as you look over at Peter a few seconds later he realises the other people are doing the same.
They‘re expecting him to tell a sex story now. His mouth goes dry and his brain is empty. Think. Think. Think. Think of something. Anything.
But he has nothing.
You speak up again, pointing at the guy next to Peter, “Oh my god, Brandon, you remember that story you told me earlier? You need to tell that one, that was the funniest thing I‘ve ever heard.”
A weight is lifted off of Peter‘s shoulders when the attention simply shifts to the guy next to him.
What felt like overthinking for hours when he couldn‘t come up with anything to say was probably only a short moment, less than five seconds, and not a single person noticed that they skipped over Peter. He lets out a breath of relief as other people tell stories and no one demands anything from Peter.
He keeps glancing at you, trying to figure out if what you did was deliberate or not.
The only thing he‘s gotten from you so far is a second of eye contact, your face neutral but your eyes holding something positive. The next time you stand up to refill your drink, Peter follows you into the kitchen.
You smile at him when you see him enter, offering some of the diet coke you‘re pouring into your cup to him. “No thanks,” Peter says, watching you fill the rest of your drink with rum.
“I don‘t know if you did that on purpose or not but uh.. thanks,” he says, clearing his throat after, annoyed at himself for sounding so nervous. You’re gorgeous, but he doesn’t even know you yet. You’re a stranger, yet he finds himself caring about what you think of him.
You muster him for a few seconds before you realise what he’s talking about.
“Oh. You mean during the.. the sex stories? That was no big deal. You just looked a little uncomfortable so I tried my best to get the attention to shift to someone else,” you smile.
“Thanks, that... that was really kind. Although I was kind of hoping it wasn‘t obvious how nervous I was. I just don‘t have any special or funny sex stories to tell... or any sex stories at all,” he avoids eye contact when he says it but you immediately get what he means.
“Can I tell you a secret?” You say, taking a step forward to stand closer to him, his cheeks heating up. He nods.
“The story I told? That was completely made up. I‘ve never had sex with anyone either. And I‘m not ashamed of that fact, I mean I‘m so young and there‘s nothing wrong with waiting or honestly I‘ve just never... been in that type of situation with a boy…”
“I get it. You don‘t have to explain yourself. Same boat,” he smiles and nudges your shoulder but regrets it instantly.
Nudging your shoulder? He has never nudged anyone‘s shoulder. Especially not the shoulder of a pretty girl he just met.
You don‘t take any notice of it though, much to Peter‘s relief, and you continue.
“Even if I personally don‘t care how old anyone is when they have their first time, I just felt nervous saying it in a room full of frat boys. I know this year has barely started but so far all the frat boys I’ve met live up to their reputation and I didn‘t want them making any stupid comments.
“If I was my ideal, confident self - or just a little tipsier - I probably would have just said that I don’t have any sex stories to tell but... I don‘t know. I was nervous.”
“I get that. That‘s exactly how I felt too. Only I wasn‘t creative enough to think of a story. My mind just blanked, I must have looked crazy when it was my turn to say something. You were calm though, the story seemed as real as all the others... maybe even more real, I mean what you said sounds very realistic to me considering how little most men know about women’s bodies.”
“Yeah,” you giggle, “But you didn‘t look nervous either. It‘s just that I knew I might not be the only one too nervous to admit that I don‘t have any experience so I was hyper-aware of it, I guess.”
“Okay, I‘m glad. Thanks again.” The conversation is slowly dying but he doesn’t want it to end yet.
He holds his hand in front of him, “I’m Peter by the way. Biochemistry and computer science.”
His fingers tremble for a second. Who introduces himself like that? God, he’s messing this up before it even started.
But you grin, trying not to laugh and tell him your name and introduce yourself in the same way, “Oceanography and computer science.”
He takes a second to release the breath that he was holding in, “Oceanography? Wow, that sounds really interesting. You‘ll have to tell me more about that.”
“It is. And I will once college starts. I‘m really excited.”
“Me too. And computer science? That means we‘ll probably have a few classes together right?”
“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”
He takes out his phone and shows you the picture he took of it, and you lean in to look at it so closely that he can smell your lovely perfume.
“I don‘t have it on my phone but I recognise that professor’s name,” you point at a name on the screen, “I‘m in that class too, I heard professor Garfield is really good. I have two classes with him.”
And that‘s how you two end up talking all night. Peter walks you home and you realise your dorm rooms are merely minutes away from each other and you make a vow to meet each other again. He really hopes you don’t forget about him, or that you weren’t just being nice.
Peter falls asleep with a smile on his face and you on his mind.
*
The next day, he realises with disappointment that you didn’t exchange numbers. He would like to text you and meet you in front of the lecture hall so it would be less nerve-wracking to go to his first-ever college lecture.
It would help to have someone he already knows with him and in case you were nervous he’d love to be there to calm you down too; make you feel less alone–you can do this together.
He knows one of his first classes on Tuesday is one that he shares with you. But he hopes he can see you on Monday to be each other’s support, or at least to see you for five minutes between classes.
He looks for you all day, but doesn’t see you again.
He’s giddy all night, knowing he’s definitely going to see you tomorrow. His plan is to get up extra early and casually and totally coincidentally lounge around in the hallway that your room is in, and then you can go to class together.
But one missed alarm later he‘s running through the building, trying to find the lecture hall that was shown to him during freshers week, but he didn’t quite manage to remember each one of the hundreds of rooms.
Time is running out and he has one minute until the lecture starts. He runs around the next corner and finally finds the hall he’s supposed to be in.
There are hundreds of students though, and he seems to be one of the last; he can’t even see if there are any seats left.
While his eyes scan the rows for an empty seat–but more importantly for you–he sees some movement directed at him. A wave.
His eyes travel down the arm that's waving at him and soon he’s making eye contact with you. He’s only met you once but he can’t stop a huge smile from taking over his entire face.
Peter blushes while he’s walking up the steps, on his way to you, but once he’s close he can see your bright smile and he’s immediately reminded of why he likes you so much.
“Hi,” Peter plops down next to you on the first seat of the row. You lean in and Peter’s breath gets caught in his throat when he realises you’re hugging him–just a friendly side hug, but it’s a hug nevertheless.
He takes his water out of his bag, trying to calm himself down by focussing on the cool drink running down his throat. It does clear his mind, the water, but he’s more and more comfortable with every second that he sits next to you. Your aura is so kind and calming, and he finds his shoulders losing the tension as you start talking to him.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it or something. We forgot to exchange numbers so I found your Instagram and was gonna message you there. But you‘re private so I couldn‘t.”
Ever since you said goodbye the night after the party, Peter has been worrying that that was all. That it was just an in-the-moment type of thing and you wouldn’t think it was anything special – or worse, you’d forget about him. But now you’re here, keeping a spot for him, telling him you’ve been thinking about him and wanted to message him. The warmth in his chest spreads when you smile at him.
And sure, just because you remember him doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it confirms that Peter isn’t the only one who thought you had a connection that was worth remembering.
Peter most definitely also stalked your Instagram. It’s public but he didn’t want you thinking he was weird for spam-liking all your pictures–which he definitely wanted to do but he stopped himself in time.
He put a timer on Instagram for the app to remind him when it’s been twenty minutes of looking at your pictures. Not that there were enough to be scrolling for twenty minutes straight – he simply enjoyed looking at you.
He takes his phone out and accepts the follow request you sent him and follows you back.
“Put your number in,” you place your phone in front of him, opened on a new contact card that Peter fills out with his number and name. You look at it and add a <3 behind his name and Peter prays he’s not blushing as hard as it feels.
You text him You up? and if his cheeks weren’t red before then they definitely are now. He can tell you’re just teasing but the fact that you’re already comfortable enough to joke around with him makes him grin.
He feels like he can be himself with you and you’re doing the same. You’re not holding back with showing Peter that you like him and it makes him feel good about himself.
But his smile fades when he hears your next words
“The professor is so hot, I have no idea how I‘ll concentrate. I talked to him before I sat down and he has a really nice voice too. And that accent… But wait till he turns around and you see his face – or you could just stare at his ass.”
Peter doesn’t know why it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart. And when he sees you further staring at the man, it’s like that knife is being pulled out of his chest and Peter bleeds out.
“I-it’s not even that big,” Peter tries.
You look at him and now he feels stupid for having said that.
“Butts don‘t have to be big to be hot. Little booties matter. And they’re really cute sometimes.”
“W-well yes, of course, but.. he‘s really not that hot,” Peter says, and then Professor Garfield turns around, “...okay he is that hot.”
“Told you,” you sing, a smile on your face, and he can’t be mad at you when you’re looking at him like that. He couldn’t be mad at you no matter what you did. While Professor Garfield, or Andrew–as he tells you all to call him–starts the lecture, Peter tries to figure out what’s got him so mad.
Yes, of course you’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean that he has to have a crush on you immediately. Just because you’re a girl and he’s a guy doesn’t mean that this has to go beyond a friendship. Men and women can be just friends. He can’t just fall in love with the first pretty woman who’s nice to him.
Okay, maybe he already has a crush on you. So what? Who can blame him?
But Peter doesn’t want to rush anything with you. He’ll give you the time to figure out what you feel for him, and he’ll just follow your lead. He may think you already like him as much as he likes you, but it’s still only the second time you’re ever seeing each other.
That and he just doesn’t want to overthink it all and end up losing the first person at college who genuinely feels like someone he could be friends with.
He tries to ignore how you giggle at every joke the professor makes and tries to focus on the warmth of you next to him instead. Not too much though, he’s already let your teasing get to his head and maybe even to a body part further down.
Even if it means he won’t have to witness you laughing at Professor Garfield’s jokes anymore, Peter is sad when the lecture is over. It’s the only lecture he has today and therefore also the only one he has with you today.
As you pack your things and people swarm out of the lecture hall, you and Peter stay back, taking it slow.
“What’s your next class?” You ask, looking him right in the eyes–like any normal person–but he’ll really have to get used to that. He can’t lose his mind every time you just look at him. But he's so attracted to you.
“I, um, I no. I mean, I don’t have any other classes today.”
You smile unexpectedly, “Cool, me neither. You wanna do something? We could get lunch together.”
You say it with such ease, showing your interest in him like you don’t know how it’s making Peter feel warm and bubbly inside.
Even if Peter still gets nervous around you, simply because he wants to impress you and doesn’t want to fuck this up, he realises quickly that he has no reason to be.
Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly.
A week later you’re texting like you’ve been best friends for years and he finds himself too happy around you to worry about what he’s saying or how he’s acting. You like him the way he is and he can feel it deeply and confidently.
Yes, he still stutters a lot around you - but he does that around most people, to be fair - and once you part ways for the day he overanalyses every little thing you’ve said to him, overthinks every little touch of yours for some form of affection that is more than platonic.
And it’s hard, figuring out whether you like him as more than a friend.
But this friendship is so new and so exciting that Peter thinks it makes him just as happy as an average relationship in the honeymoon phase would. So even if he does crave more intimacy with you, it’s hard to complain when he has a friend like you.
*
You show up at Peter’s door at midnight on a Friday. His sleep schedule has been surprisingly healthy for a college freshman so if anyone else disturbed him when he was already in pyjamas, he’d be annoyed.
But with you, he’s ecstatic. He’s awake immediately, grinning from ear to ear at your surprise visit. You never left his mind but he thought he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.
Peter is more than aware of the contrast between your done up state and him in his ratty old pyjamas. You’ve seen him in pyjamas before and he knows better than to think you’d judge him, but he can’t help but to want to at least try and match you when you’re looking as gorgeous as you are.
“Oh sorry, I thought you’d still be up,” is the first thing you say, ready to leave if you’re bothering him in any way.
“No, no, I am, don’t worry. What’s up?” Peter asks, trying to look cool as he leans against his door frame. He ignores how it hurts like hell where his elbow meets a sharp corner.
“Well… I was gonna ask if you wanna go watch a movie with me,” you give him a charming smile not knowing he’d say yes no matter what you asked of him.
“Now?”
“Uh, yes. Now. But it’s fine if not, genuinely I won’t be mad. I can see that you had other plans,” you smile at his pyjamas.
“No. Don’t worry, I’d love to go. Do you have tickets or…?” Jealousy bubbles up inside Peter when he realises you might have been planning to go with someone else. With some other guy. Maybe he bailed on you and Peter is the second option (which he would still be grateful for, but he hates the thought of you with another guy).
“No, but I checked online and they have plenty of tickets left. It’s the last day they’re playing this film. The one I told you about, the horror one.”
“Oh God.” He’s trying to pretend that you still need to convince him when really Peter just needs a second to realise he was just overthinking again. He is your first choice. Not another guy.
“Pleeeease, Peter,” you grab his arm and pout.
Peter has been convinced since the moment you showed up at his door.
“Give me a second,” he smiles and you grin back, “Really? You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek enthusiastically and he goes back into his room fast enough to hide his blush.
He picks out an outfit, brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant just in case.
You take him to the cinema with your hand in his. Peter knows it’s not a romantic gesture, you’re just treating him like you’d treat a female friend, but his brain doesn’t know the difference. He’s just happy to be touching you.
When you buy the tickets the guy at the movie theatre shows you the available seats on his screen. He points to one of those love seats where two seats are joined together so you can cuddle.
You nod and when the guy gives Peter a congratulatory smile, Peter’s cheeks heat up. The guy probably thinks you and Peter are a couple. It’s not just good for Peter’s ego and the fake scenarios with you that he’ll imagine before bed, but it’s also better for the guy. Peter saw the way he was eyeing you, and Peter doesn’t know what he would have done if the guy had asked for your number.
“We can cuddle,” you grin as you sit down and pat the seat next to you. You’re almost alone in the theatre, you could sit anywhere you want but you want to be close to him.
While you wait for the trailers to start you take Snapchat videos with Peter, asking him if you can send them to your friends at home. His heart swells when you say that you’ve told them about him.
He takes pictures of you looking all pretty and perfect and he wonders if it would be too much to set it as his phone wallpaper. Your head is on his shoulder as you scroll through the pictures that he just took of you and your perfume is hypnotising.
How is every little thing about you so captivating? Peter has never met anyone like you.
He’s fucking scared during the movie, but with his eyes mostly closed he manages to be the guy you can hold on to during the creepy scenes. Your fingers around his bicep squeeze every time there is a jumpscare and at some point he has to force himself to watch the film after all if he doesn’t want to get hard from your touch. He knows it’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.
You look beautiful in the light of the stars as you two walk home, your hand still around his arm, gushing about the film and thanking him for watching it with you despite the spontaneous change of his plans.
You spend some time in the common area by your dorms. It’s late and everyone else seems to be at some party elsewhere or sleeping. You cling on to Peter, still jumpy from the horror film and he nearly asks you if you want to sleep in his bed.
He nearly says it about five times, but he can’t quite get the words out. He doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression, even if you may be about to ask the same thing.
Peter sits there nervously, gulping as he’s about to ask. He really will say it this time. But before he opens his mouth he hears your deep breaths and notices how your body has gone slack against his side.
He kisses the top of your head in content and soon, sleep finds Peter too. He doesn’t have to dream about being close to you because it’s already his reality.
｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡
It’s a few weeks into the semester and it’s become a routine for you two to study together. Whether you’re helping each other with the classes you share, or silently working on other things and enjoying each other’s company, your study sessions have even managed to make studying a rather fun part of college.
Especially when you’re both sitting on Peter’s bed, and your knees or legs or arms are always touching.
You’re not focussed today, scrolling around on your phone instead of studying. You throw your phone to the bed at some point and you hug your legs to your chest in thought.
“You think Andrew will let me suck his dick? For a better score?”
Peter’s heart stops beating for a second.
You haven’t kissed, you haven’t said anything that should have led Peter to think that this is more than friendship, but it seemed like there could be something in the future. Apparently, you’re not even considering it.
“Who’s Andrew?” He asks, mouth dry and voice weak.
“Professor Garfield.”
“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”
“Is it though?” You tilt your head and give him a deliberately incredulous look.
“Yes.”
“Not if no one finds out. It’s don’t break the rules or don‘t get caught, Peter.”
He’s distracted by you saying his name for a moment. There’s nothing he loves hearing more.
But he has to stop you from doing… that. He can’t entirely tell how serious you are, but he has to make sure to convince you that it’s a bad idea.
“No offence, but what makes you believe you’ll be good enough for him to give you a better score? If you’ve never… you know, done anything like it.” He remembers your conversation from the first time you met, and if you haven’t given anyone a blowjob since then, he knows it would be your first time. Your first time can’t be with a professor, even if Peter disregards the fact that he wants to be the only guy you have sex with, it really is a bad idea.
“I’m a young and pretty student and he’s a kinda old guy. He’s like 40. So I’m sure that I’ll be enough for him.”
Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment, thrown off by your casual tone.
“Don’t you think so?” you press, teasing in your voice.
“No- of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful,” he smiles, pressing his lips together.
“Aww,” you sit up and press a kiss to his cheek, “So are you, Pete.” You hold on to his shoulder as you lower yourself into his lap, your butt right next to his thighs and your upper body resting on his legs, and his breath hitches.
“Well if you think I need practice, then.. I could practise on you first.”
“Practise w-what on me?” He asks, feeling your hands on his abs.
“Going down on a guy,” you say, looking up at him. Now the feeling in Peter’s belly changes from raging jealousy into something else of equal passion. He’s thought about you doing that before, (and pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it appeared) but hearing you suggest it makes a new flame of desire light up in him.
The first conversation you ever had was about sex. But anytime you mention anything sexual, Peter doesn’t know how to act.
“I- I mean. I’m not- I feel like, maybe that’s not—”
“Don’t worry, I’m joking. I won’t actually suck that guy’s dick. I just don’t wanna do this stuff right now,” you sigh, sitting up and closing your textbook.
“How about we do something to distract you for the night, and then tomorrow I’ll help you with the next assignment,” he suggests, relief still flooding through his body, happy that you don’t actually want to suck your professor’s dick.
“You’d do that?”
“Of course. I’ll always help you when I can but I especially owe you after you did my homework last week when I fell asleep.”
You sit up, “I told you it was no big deal. It was just multiple choice and all I did was copy my answers.”
“Yeah but if I hadn’t woken up then I would have missed the deadline and failed.”
“I know you’d do the same for me. And besides, you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t wake you up to do some boring computational linguistics quiz at eleven pm.”
Peter smiles at the memory of last week. When he’s with you, he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to spend time with you. But he was tired and you were studying something Peter couldn’t help you with anyway, and he’s so comfortable around you that he just drifted off to sleep because he trusts you – he wouldn’t be okay with being unconscious next to just anyone.
“Well, it was still a very kind thing to do.”
Not sure what you’re doing yet, you go to your dorm room so you can change out of your sweats and into something prettier–even though Peter thinks you could wear sweatpants 24/7, and you’d still outshine everyone. He nearly stays outside but with a confused look you ask him what he’s doing outside and he reluctantly comes in.
Picking out an outfit, you pull off your shirt with no warning and even if he can only see your back an “Oh my God” leaves Peter’s mouth immediately, followed by a quiet, “Sorry,” as he turns around.
“Don’t worry. I’m just changing. It’s just my body, you can look.”
Despite your nonchalant words, Peter can hear your heart beating loudly and frantically in your chest. He tries not to let it get to him, it doesn’t have to mean that you like him. Maybe you’re just realising that you don’t want a boy to see you half-naked after all but you don’t want to say it now after confidently assuring him it was okay.
Peter sits down on your bed, turned away from you even though it takes all the willpower he can muster.
A few moments later you jump onto the bed next to him, “So, what are we doing tonight?”
“Do?” He asks, still dazed from seeing your naked back, “Oh do, yeah. Uh yes, we can do something.”
You giggle, looking at him expectantly. That’s when Peter remembers he was the one who suggested that you go out tonight.
“Oh-well yeah, I was thinking we could take a walk along the river, I heard they have these carnival booths up every Friday night.”
Going out in the evenings has become your and Peter’s thing. Sure, many people–especially college students–go out in the evening. But with you, it feels different. It feels special.
Illuminated by the streetlights and the LED glow from the booths, you and Peter play a few rounds of ring toss and throwing darts at balloons. You both swear it’s rigged because neither of you win anything.
You eat popcorn while Peter gets cotton candy and once again you hold Peter’s hand throughout most of your trip. It’s become a habit of yours, apparently meaningless as a romantic gesture, but platonically it means everything to Peter. You like him enough to constantly initiate physical touch; plus, he’s never seen you hold hands with any of your other friends.
Still, Peter is forever wishing for more. Sometimes he looks at you and wonders how he’s managed not to kiss you yet. But his fear grows with every day; the closer you get the harder it will be to confess his feelings because the risk of ruining something beautiful keeps getting bigger.
He’s never been this attracted to anyone but he also thinks he’s never had a friendship as good as yours. He simply can’t risk something good, something beautiful, something that makes him as happy as he’s ever been. Your friendship is strong but he’s scared you wouldn’t be able to come back from Peter confessing his feelings for you and you not feeling the same.
It could weird you out, you could take pity on Peter and see him in a different light, or worst of all, you could think he’s been taking advantage of you. He’s never touched you anywhere that would be reserved only for a lover but you two are quite close. You’ve cuddled a few times, or just a few hours ago you were changing in front of him – he doesn’t want you thinking he intentionally got any sexual gratification out of it and for you to view him differently.
He already feels bad enough when nothing but the image of you clouds his thoughts whenever he jerks off. He can’t help it anymore. He used to be able to think of something else or simply watch porn but now that he’s with you so often and you’re so perfect, you’re like an intrusive thought; whenever he’s naked, there’s nothing on his mind but you, just like when a song is stuck in your head – there’s no easy way of getting rid of it.
Peter has never been one to feel shame after masturbating. But if you only liked him as a friend and ever found out what he thinks about when he’s fucking his fist late at night, he doesn’t even want to know what your opinion of him would change into. But the mental image of you alone makes Peter cum so hard, over and over, that he can’t stop, even if guilt plagues him right after as he cleans up the mess he’s made.
He looks down at your intertwined hands while you’re walking home across campus. He wonders what you’d do if you knew that the hand you’re holding right now jerks Peter off every night without fail, thinking precisely of how your hand could replace Peter’s.
On your way home, you walk past a frat house, the vibration of the music reaching Peter’s chest even from the outside.
“Shit, Chloe told me about this party. I forgot I said I’d be there.”
“Who’s that?”
“She’s one of my friends from an Oceanography class. Do you mind if we go in? Just for half an hour.”
It’ll definitely distract Peter from thinking about you in a way that he’s not sure you’d be comfortable with.
You’re dragged away by some of your girlfriends as soon as you enter. They all say something about Peter but you quickly shrug off what they’re saying about you two always being together. He can’t tell if it’s a genuine no or just that feeling of embarrassment that you get when your friends tease you about your crush.
So your friends see it too? The indescribable chemistry between you two? Even with his enhanced hearing, he can’t hear the rest of your conversation because some of his own friends are urging him to go play beer pong with them.
Peter sees you every twenty minutes or so and you wave or smile at him and check up on him every time you walk past. Spending time with your other friends is good for both of you, but it’s also good to know that he’s still on your mind, just like you’re on his.
“Help me find the bathroom,” you tell Peter the next time you see him. He’s getting a little bored at this party so he assumes you also want to escape.
You walk into the bathroom together and Peter doesn’t realise that you actually just need to pee until he sees you contemplating on pulling your underwear down or not, “Can you wait outside?”
“Of course.”
Peter has no interest in being in the bathroom with you while you pee, but the fact that you nearly let him stay in there with you shows him once again how comfortable you are around him. He’s smiling like an idiot, standing by the wall opposite the bathroom until he hears your “You can come in.”
After you’ve washed your hands you sit on the edge of the bathtub and pat the space next to you for Peter to join you and you chat about whatever comes to your mind. So you did want a break from the party too, and Peter is glad to provide that.
“What song is that?” Peter asks. The music is loud enough for you to clearly hear it even upstairs in the bathroom.
“I don’t know, I’ll shazam it. You’re right, it sounds good.”
When you unlock your phone the screen is filled with the picture of a vibrator. You ignore it and go to Shazam the song, but Peter can’t let you off like that.
You always get to tease him so he smirks when he can finally get you back, “Wait wait wait,” he takes your phone from you, lifting it high in case you want to take it from him.
“What is this?” He asks, smiling, teasing you lovingly and in good fun but you look at him as if he’s talking about the most boring thing ever, not embarrassed in the slightest, but once more, that could be a good sign; another sign of your close relationship.
“Oh, it’s this vibrator. But it’s way too expensive for me.”
Peter licks his lips, trying not to freak out. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to you about a vibrator would be a good idea. But he tries to appear as calm as you, “Why is it expensive? What’s so special about it?”
“Well, it basically sucks your clit. But I don’t want to spend over 100 dollars on something like that when I can just go out and find a guy to suck my clit within like five minutes. It’s all those guys on campus think about, I swear. I’m glad you’re not like that, Pete” you smile at him and put your head on his shoulder, completely catching him off guard with your words.
He won’t be able to jerk off without thinking about you for days now; meaning he won’t be able to jerk off for days. Do you mean you’d hate knowing that Peter thinks about you sexually or do you just mean that there’s no pressure with Peter? And that any other male friend would have asked for sex by now?
Peter knows he’s not a perv, but he doesn’t know if you’d say the same if you knew you were the protagonist of his spank bank.
“Wait, actually, a friend told me they’re way cheaper if you buy them in-store and they’ll have more to choose from... will you go with me?” You ask him with a big fake pout.
“To a.. a sex shop?”
“I don’t want to go alone. And you’re my best friend.”
He can’t say no to you after you call him that, even if having a constant reminder of what you use to masturbate is going to kill him.
“O-okay. But why can’t you just go with your friend?”
“I’m not as comfortable around her as I am around you. Unless you really don’t want to.”
“No no I’ll go,” he nods and you grin.
“I’m sure they’ll have something for you too,” you say with raised eyebrows. And even though his hand and the thoughts about you make him cum hard and fast enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs a sex toy, your words help him feel a little less guilty. You telling him to go buy a sex toy suggests that you’re not grossed out when thinking of him masturbating, so maybe you’d understand that he’s got to do what he’s got to do sometimes, and you actually wouldn’t completely hate him if you found out what goes on in Peter’s mind when he jerks off.
“But we’re not going before we finish our assignment.”
“Deal,” you shake his hand with a laugh and join your friends downstairs to play the last few rounds of drinking games before you go home.
You’re good, but the other team is better.
You didn’t really want to drink tonight and are only playing for fun but Peter likes following the rules so someone has to have the drinks. You assure him he doesn’t have to but Peter downs all the drinks for you and the ones for himself, relying on his enhanced abilities to drink them like water. He has one drink and then five more and when you two leave the party he realises he’s drunk.
You insist on taking him to your room to make sure he’s okay but Peter is a funny drunk so he doesn’t feel too bad. If he gets to sleep in your bed he could never feel bad, and knowing you you would never offer if you weren’t okay with it.
“I like when you take care of me,” Peter smiles at you when you tuck him into bed and he takes your hand in his, “And I like when we hold hands.”
“I like it too,” you kiss his forehead and Peter practically swoons. You were holding his hand the whole way back home from the party, like one of those people keeping a toddler on a leash and he’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow morning but right now he’s just grateful for the constant affection.
You seem no bit annoyed that you have to deal with a drunk Peter, you’re just spending time with your best friend (he hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him that) who happens to be drunk.
“Will you need a bucket?” You ask as you pull down your skirt and leave on your cropped shirt.
“A what?” He asks, heart beating harder as he stares at your half-naked form.
“Do you think you’ll throw up?” You ask.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
When you walk over to the bed Peter sees everything in slow motion. You stand next to the bed for a few seconds, tapping on your phone, and Peter admires your beautiful body while he can.
“You know how much I love your legs? They look so good,” he says, and he can’t tell if he’s embarrassingly drunk right now or not. He just knows that your legs are perfect. You’re perfect. And that’s something his sober self would wholeheartedly agree with.
You smile and turn off the lights, leaving the window open so Peter can get some fresh air but it also leaves enough light for Peter to admire your legs some more.
“Scoot over,” you tell him and get in bed with him.
“No, you don’t understand how incredible your legs are.” He gets one last glance at them before you pull the blanket over your body.
“Thank you, Peter,” you smile, and he sees by the crinkles next to your eyes that it’s genuine and maybe you don’t hate him looking at your body as much as he’s been worrying you would.
You talk a little more but minutes later the conversation consists more of yawning than talking and Peter sobers up when he realises he will be sleeping next to you. It’s his first time sleeping in a woman’s bed, and he’s glad it’s yours.
He’s taken naps next to you and there was that one time you slept next to each other on the sofa, but this is different. You’re alone in your room, right next to each other, in one bed, sharing one blanket. He can feel the warmth of your half-naked body and before he knows it your familiar presence calms him down enough to fall asleep quickly.
*
When Peter wakes up next to you the following morning, it takes a few moments for it to all come back to him.
He knows there’s no way you slept with each other, Peter was kinda drunk, neither of you have even confessed any feelings and you wouldn’t have a one night stand the first time you have sex.
But when he gently lifts the blanket, making sure he doesn’t wake you up, he’s met with the sight of your lovely belly and heavenly thighs, and Peter thinks from the outside it could look like you had sex.
Not that anyone is going to see, but two hormonal college students, both half-naked, waking up next to each other.. It screams something obvious and that thing is not that you two are merely friends.
The thought of it alone makes Peter flustered and he shifts uncomfortably. His eyes widen when he realises that his morning wood is pushed right against your ass. He pulls his hips back as quickly as he can, waking you up in the process.
You’re facing away from him, and the first thing you notice is your and Peter’s interlaced hands. His cheeks warm up as he notices them too. His arm is resting above your head on the pillow, fingers next to your face where they’re loosely intertwined with yours.
He doesn’t remember waking up in the night, so you must have somehow ended up holding hands in your sleep, both finding your way to the other even while unconscious.
You squeeze his hand and twist your body to look at Peter’s face. “Hi,” you mumble, smiling sleepily.
“Hi,” Peter says, opening his mouth minimally just in case he has bad morning breath.
Your eyes flit across his face with a look he can’t decipher. “Goodnight,” you say a few seconds later and you lie back down in your tired daze, pushing against Peter and pulling his arm over your waist.
“Wait,” you turn around again, “Are you okay? Got a hangover or anything?”
“I’m good, thanks. Go back to sleep,” he smiles, partially because he knows you still need rest but also because he wants you to go back to sleep so he can take care of himself. It’s becoming painful how hard he is.
“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”
He most definitely is warm, he knows he’s blushing like crazy.
You pull the blanket further up your body and scoot back against Peter, and the way your ass pushes against his crotch nearly makes him moan. He doesn't know how you're not noticing what's going on.
He scoots his hips back as far as he can and waits a few minutes until you’ve drifted off to sleep again. He carefully removes himself from you and goes to your bathroom. You have a bathtub, big enough for both of you, he thinks, with a showerhead on the wall.
Before he can even bring himself to care about the temperature, Peter turns on the water and pulls his clothes off in a hurry, wrapping a hand around himself before he’s even really in the shower.
He leans a hand against the wall, resting his head against it as his other hand speeds up, jerking himself off while he thinks about you in the other room. You, so pretty, so caring, so sexy in just your underwear and a short shirt. You, not knowing that Peter is about to cum in your shower, so close to you, thinking about you.
The water is only barely louder than the sound his hand makes against his cock, and he bites his lip to stop any moans from coming out.
Peter cums when he hears the squeaking of your bed; you’re getting up, you could walk in any second. While he cums, Peter’s mind wanders to you on your knees, his dick sliding in and out of your mouth as you look up at him with your gorgeous eyes.
He washes his cum off the bathroom tiles on the wall and tries to wash the guilty feeling off himself.
Suddenly the door opens slightly, “Hey can I come in? I won’t look, I just wanna brush my teeth.”
Peter makes sure to slide the shower door to the side so it’s covering him and he tells you to come in.
He peeks out of the shower and you smile at him through the mirror. He catches your eyes drifting lower but you can barely even make out the outline of Peter’s body through the frosted glass.
Peter casts his own glance at you and how you’re still not wearing anything but panties and that short shirt. You stretch your arms, still trying to shake the tired feeling, and your shirt lifts so that Peter can already see the flesh of your tits. But you stop stretching just before your top lifts over your nipples and he quickly turns to look at the wall in the shower instead.
He quickly washes himself using your shower gel, maybe he’ll smell just like you now.
You hand Peter a towel just at the right moment and he wraps it around himself before stepping out of the shower.
“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.
In his still horny brain a scenario plays out where you said that a few moments earlier and joined Peter in the shower.
This time you don’t tell him if it’s okay for him to look while you’re changing so he diverts his gaze before you slip out of your clothes.
You squeal when you get in the shower, “Peter, why is it so cold? What’s wrong with you?”
He must not have realised how cold it was, but once he got into the shower he only cared about coming, and he blocked everything else out. By the time he was washing his body, he must have become used to the temperature already and didn’t notice.
Peter brushes his teeth with his second toothbrush that he’s got in your bathroom and quickly goes into your bedroom so he won’t be in the same room as you while you’re naked and he’s only got a towel wrapped around him.
You come out dressed in the clothes you took into the bathroom with you.
“Sorry that I used your shower,” Peter says, sitting on your bed with nothing but your towel.
“You’re welcome here whenever and welcome to use whatever, you know that. But showering that cold should be a crime,” you smile at him, “Should I get you some clothes?”
You go to Peter’s room to get clothes for him and he changes into them in your bathroom.
“I know it’s the weekend but can we get that assignment done today? I wanna go buy my vibrator soon,” you pout.
Peter forgot all about that. How is he supposed to study with you if he knows you’ll go out together to buy a sex toy after?
But somehow he manages. Well, you realise you can do it mostly by yourself once you properly start and Peter is only there for moral support (even though he’s the one who needs moral support; he doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, pretend that he didn’t just jerk off while thinking of you and pretend that it–by far–wasn’t the first time.)
“Hey, are you okay?” You ask Peter as you’re both on your way to buy your stupid vibrator that Peter would love to replace.
He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but your worried look tells him he looks exactly as nervous from the outside as he feels. He’s never been to a sex shop. Are they going to ID you? Are you going to meet someone you know? Is it going to be all dingy?
Normally, you’re like an anchor to Peter, your presence can make him feel comfortable in situations that would usually make him panic. But in this situation, you’re making him even antsier. Not in a way that he would describe as anxious but more like a, he’s scared he’ll get a boner any second. That’s always a risk when he’s with you but that risk quadruples when you’re going to a sex shop to buy a vibrator for yourself.
You stop Peter in his tracks and stand in front of him to wipe his sweaty forehead with your sleeve, his heart beating even faster now. “You know you don’t have to come in if it makes you that nervous. But it’s just a shop.”
“What? Yeah I’m fine, pff, like so fine. I’m just hot,” Peter says, watching your eyes go to the thick winter coat Peter is wearing. You’re wearing one too. Even in his jacket, Peter could do with a bit more warmth.
“Here,” you unzip his jacket, and even if it’s only to assist Peter with his stupid lie, you’re still undressing him. You’re not helping the boner risk decrease at all.
The shop is classy and clean and the employees leave you alone (unlike when you dragged Peter to Lush that one time and he was forced to try out bath bombs and oil that he didn’t know the purpose of).
Now he can tell you’re flustered too, just a little bit. Holding on to Peter’s arm the whole time, you find what you need, pay, and put your gloves on top of the packaged vibrator just in case anyone decides to look in your bag.
Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, the shops aren’t busy so you go to look for some new clothes. Peter thinks you could wear a potato sack and you’d still look pretty, so he’s not the best judge when you come out of the dressing rooms to ask for his opinion on whatever clothes you’re trying on.
“This is so ugly, oh my god,” he hears you from inside the dressing room, laughing.
You pop your head out behind the curtain to make sure no one sees you as you show Peter a top that, yes–even on you, looks ugly. You still look gorgeous, that’s for sure, but even your perfect face and body can’t save the Shrek-coloured thing that is supposed to be a t-shirt.
“You know, you’re the only one who’s allowed to see me in something as ugly as this,” you say absentmindedly as you go back to try on something else and Peter’s heart beats faster at your words.
It might sound ridiculous to an outsider, but to Peter these little things mean the world.
He might not be able to tell if what you feel for him is platonic or more, but he knows you feel something for him. You feel a lot for him. He feels it every time you so much as look at him.
With you, Peter feels loved.
The love you give him feels like it’s supposed to be for a lover, supposed to be for that one special person. And the lines between friendship and more are so blurry in your relationship that he can’t tell how much is spilling onto the romantic side already.
Peter contemplates paying for your new jeans but in the end, he’s too awkward (and too broke) in front of the cashier to interrupt when you get out your money. Besides things like cinema tickets, drinks and food, Peter has never paid for anything that you bought and it would feel very boyfriend-y.
You get food on your way home and by the time you’re in Peter’s room, it’s dark outside already. Peter was surprised that you even came to his room and when he keeps noticing you looking at the bag with your new toy in it, his assumption that you’d rather be doing something else now is confirmed.
You’ve been so casual when you talk about things like vibrators and getting off, but Peter has never had the courage to properly contribute anything to the conversation. But he decides to put on his big boy pants and before he can chicken out he nods towards his door and says, “Go on, try out your vibrator. I know you’re dying to.”
You give him a charming and apologetic smile, snatching your bag, ready to go. “I’d love to spend time with you, you know that but–”
“I know. But we have enough time for that tomorrow. Just don’t break your–” Don’t break what? Don’t break your pussy? Your clit? He’s never said any of those words out loud.
“I won’t,” you help him out and climb on the bed again to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pancakes as always?”
“Pancakes as always,” Peter smiles, feeling himself blush, “Text me your review of the toy,” he says before you leave.
“I will,” you smile back at him, wave, and close the door.
Peter waits a few moments until he thinks you’ve arrived at your door. Are you going to throw yourself on your bed as soon as you get in? Shower first? Are you going to slowly take off all your clothes, caress your body to turn yourself on? Seduce yourself? Or are you going to push your pants down just a few inches and shove the vibrator between your legs?
Whatever you’re doing, thinking of any of those scenarios makes Peter hard immediately; that, and the tension from today that he can finally release.
He moves to the side of the bed that you were just lying on, and the sheets still smell like you.
Peter unbuckles his belt and pushes down his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers and instantly feeling a sense of relief.
He imagines you lying in your bed, right now, two fingers between your legs. You’re so wet from being with Peter, the guy you’re into, all day, that your fingertips easily glide over your skin.
Peter shifts and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum. The warm, familiar pressure is already building up in Peter’s body, and he slides his fist up and down himself faster.
In Peter’s mind, you’re spreading your lips now, holding the vibrator against your clit. You jolt at the first contact and smile, knowing you’re about to feel nothing but bliss.
Your body relaxes and you let the vibration take over completely, chasing your orgasm that’s so close after only a minute. You throw your head back when you cum, your eyebrows scrunched together. Your legs start shaking once you can’t take it anymore, but you press the vibrator to your clit during the last few aftershocks.
Peter cums at the same time as you do in his imagination. He’s spilling over his abs and his hands, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
He lies in his bed for a few more moments, sighing as he cleans up the mess he just made. He gets a message from you: Had a nice day btw :) Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow <3
He smiles and texts back, too exhausted to feel bad for what he just did.
Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that you’re spending time together and you’re showing no signs of getting tired of him. But at this rate, it seems like Peter will never know what being with you while you orgasm is actually like.
He can be patient, but he doesn’t know if he’s waiting for something that will never happen.
He doesn’t even care about the sex, he just wants to hold your hand and know what it means, know that it means that you’re in a romantic relationship.
He’ll give you all the time you need, that’s all he can do. He simply can’t confess his feelings, he can plan on doing it and dream about it as much as he wants, but when he’s standing in front of you he can’t risk losing you.
Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough, and who knows, maybe you’re thinking the exact same thing right now, trying to be brave but you just can’t.
Maybe.
*
Peter knocks at your door the next day, ready to get pancakes like you always do on Sundays. There’s a lot of commotion behind the door and you take a while to open it.
“You’re early,” you say, hair messy and overall dishevelled.
“Am I? I don’t mind waiting,” Peter says.
“I’ve just quickly got to shower, you can go back to your room or wait here, whichever you want.”
“No problem, I’ll just wait here.” Peter feels as if that’s the wrong answer because you don’t exactly look thrilled that he’ll be in your room, but you still let him in with a small smile. He knows that you can’t be mad at him and by the time Peter’s on your bed and you're about to go to the bathroom, you’re giving him a genuine smile and say you won’t be long.
Peter gets out his phone as he hears you turning on the water and he drops to his back on your bed.
Just as he’s about to go on Instagram, he hears a quiet, mechanical whirring. He wouldn’t be able to pick up on it without his enhanced hearing.
He hears how you smack your hand over your mouth, but you’re not quick enough. Peter still heard a tiny moan.
So that’s why you didn’t want Peter coming in. You’ve probably been making yourself cum all night and you weren’t finished with the last round.
Peter sits up and tries to stick his fingers in his ears, but even if he can’t hear you anymore he’s still got the vivid image of you in his head, only a wall separating you two.
He stands up and looks for something to distract himself before he gets hard, but to make things even worse, Peter’s eyes land on a pair of panties next to your bed.
He feels like a perv as he picks them up. He can see your arousal still glistening in them, and it’s like they’re calling out Peter’s name.
He’s about to lift them to his face when he hears you turning off the water. Peter stuffs the panties into his jeans pocket quickly and out of reflex. He stiffly sits on your bed, unsure if he still has enough time to pull your underwear out of his pocket again and throw it under your bed.
He’s too nervous to hear what you’re doing, his ears ringing, and before he can bring himself to quickly put your underwear back, you’re coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.
With your innocent rambling about college he manages to calm down but you and your stupid vibrator are still on his mind. But it’s a good thing that you two can talk about stuff like that, so maybe he’ll get his mind off it once he asks you about it.
“So, is it good?” He asks you as you slide into the booth at the place you always go to for pancakes.
“Is what good?”
“Your, your vibrator thing? You didn’t send me a review,” he says.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” you laugh, “It’s so good, oh my god. I’m so glad we don’t have roommates here cause I did it like six times last night. I get why people pay so much for it. I mean it’s supposed to simulate oral sex and I can’t imagine that it feels the same but I guess I’ll find out one day.”
“You always have me if you want to find out how it feels.”
He can only gather the courage to say that because of what you once said about sucking his dick for practice so you could suck Andrew’s dick for a better score. The only difference is that you turned out to be joking, but Peter is serious.
He probably sounds too serious too because you give him a questioning, “Huh?”
“Well- well I’m just saying if you wanna compare your toy to oral sex then I... you know... my tongue is available to you,” he says it exactly how it comes to his mind, unsure if he should make it sound more like a joke.
You laugh, declaring it a joke yourself, “Okay, thanks. You’re so cute.”
It’s not ideal but the fact that you’re not running away from him and gagging shows him that at least the thought of Peter going down on you doesn’t disgust you. The fact that you made a joke about going down on him first, even if that was weeks ago, gives Peter a tiny bit of hope that maybe his instinct has been right all this time. Maybe you do like him back and you just need a bit more time.
“Um, I heard that next week there’s going to be loads of shooting stars. I was thinking we could drive out of the city and go stargazing. I already asked James and he said we can take his car–the truck, it’s big enough for us to lie down in while we look at the sky, it’s going to be warmer next week too and–”
“I’d love to,” you grin.
He mirrors your smile immediately because it actually took a lot of convincing for Peter’s friend James to let Peter have his car. And more importantly, looking at the stars sounds very romantic. He wasn't sure if he should invite you to something so obviously romantic.
What if it makes you realise that Peter likes you and you distance yourself from him because you don’t feel the same?
What if you do feel the same, but you need your time and it’s too early for a date-like activity?
But what if... what if it’s just the right thing?
You hold hands, you’ve slept in a bed together, so Peter doubts you will be freaked out by stargazing. But Peter can already feel the butterflies just thinking about lying under the night sky with you, and what if you don’t?
But maybe Peter is ready for the risk after all. He’ll see if you’re enjoying yourself, try to see in your beautiful eyes if you’re as smitten as him. He's realised that he’ll have to try one day and now that you’ve agreed to his plan, it feels like this is the right timing, the right thing. Maybe he’ll even ask you how you feel, or make a comment about how romantic the situation is.
And if you and Peter belong together, then maybe it’s time for you. He certainly feels that he’s ready. He’s not expecting a kiss, he’s not expecting anything except the tiniest hint that a romantic night with Peter doesn’t leave you cold. That would be more than enough to keep him going for so many more months to come.
He can wait if you need time but he’s just one man and his passion for you burns so brightly inside him that he just needs something, no matter how small it is.
You two walk home, your bellies filled with pancakes and warmth from seeing your person. No matter if it’s platonic or romantic, Peter would be blind if he didn’t see that he makes you happy and how much you glow and grin and his presence.
You hang out on campus for a bit more but you tell him you still need to study and you’ll see him tomorrow (he tries not to think about how you’re probably lying and are simply going to use your vibrator over and over).
Peter changes into sweats once he gets to his room and as he’s putting his jeans away he notices something pink peeking out of the pocket. Your panties. He completely forgot about them.
He carefully pulls them out, holding them like they’re a sacred treasure.
Making himself comfortable on his bed, he takes a deep breath before bringing your underwear up to his face.
He doesn’t know what he was expecting your arousal to smell like, not like this, but it’s even better.
It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.
He bunches your panties up in his hand and presses them against his face, inhaling your scent while he reaches a hand under his sweatpants and strokes himself.
He’s been hard since he remembered he had your panties and he doesn’t even think about you making yourself wet, your smell alone has him coming undone within seconds.
He does it again before going to bed, this time wrapping the panties around his hand so he’s jerking himself off with them. He bites his t-shirt in an attempt to muffle his moans as the material slides up and down his cock.
He fucks his fist as hard and as fast as he can, his bed starting to squeak from the intensity of it.
Your wetness on your panties has long dried but the thought of your arousal so close to his dick has him–once again–reaching his orgasm pathetically fast. He sighs after he cums, examining the panties to make sure he pulled them away in time and there’s none of his cum on them.
He wants to save them for another time; as many times as they’ll still have your addicting smell on them.
He cleans the mess off himself, his cum ending up in a tissue that he throws into the trash can with all the other tissues. He’ll empty it before you come over the next time.
｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡
You’ve been driving for half an hour now, the city nothing but a few lights in the rearview mirror.
You find a spot next to a field, not a soul to be seen anywhere near you. You get the blankets and snacks to make yourselves comfortable in the back of James’s pickup truck that Peter borrowed.
“Look,” you point towards the sky, but Peter misses the shooting star. He goes back to looking at your beautiful face, only to find your eyes already on him.
He feels your hand on the side of his face, pushing his head to face the sky again, “Look at the stars, not at me,” you say and he can hear the grin in your voice. You’re enjoying yourself, and that’s all that matters. You want him to enjoy himself too, not knowing that your face is so much more interesting to look at.
After a few moments of staring into the brightly lit sky–it never looks like this in the polluted city–he has to admit, the night sky isn’t bad either.
It only takes a few seconds until another shooting star races across the sky and you share an excited look, “Did you see that?” You ask.
“You’re supposed to make a wish,” Peter whispers, eyes closed as he wishes for a relationship with you.
You’re still looking at him when he opens his eyes, your gaze intense, eyes flitting across his face.
“Did you make a wish?” Peter asks. You nod and slowly divert your gaze towards the masterpiece of nature above you again.
He can’t shake the feeling that your wish also had something to do with him. Something romantic. He always overthinks and doubts himself but this is one thing he’s sure about.
But the moment is fleeting and Peter doesn’t find the words to say. You’re back to looking at the stars, and he doesn’t want to have to grab your face to kiss you.
He swallows down the disappointment and tries to enjoy the time with you, his dear friend. Not many people have a friendship like yours and at this moment he just tries to be grateful for that.
“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.
“Mhm?”
“I’m so glad we met,” you turn to your side, your whole body facing him now. He can hear the raw emotion in your voice, he thinks he can even see tears in your eyes. That’s what your shared love does to Peter too. He could cry just thinking about it.
“Me too,” he says, reaching for your hand, trying to bring the monstrosity of his feelings into words to let you know that nothing has made him as happy as meeting you, but the words won’t come out.
“Our friendship means so much to me,” you say, and it stings. In this romantic moment, cuddled up beneath the stars, is that all Peter will ever be to you? A friend?
You continue, “I‘m sorry if I ruin it with what I‘m about to do.”
“What–”
You lean in and kiss Peter.
The world stops. Nothing matters, nothing but your lips on Peter’s. He always thought he’d be overcome with great excitement when you first kiss, an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his insides, but he feels at peace. It simply feels right.
“Did I just ruin our friendship?” You whisper, and it’s then that Peter realises that he barely kissed you back. He was too stunned to.
He puts his hands on your face and pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours over and over.
“You didn’t ruin our friendship, you turned it into something better, so much better. And you know that our friendship is hard to beat,” Peter says.
You let out a laugh of joy, “It is,” and you kiss him again, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him as close as you can.
Your lips are soft, so so soft, and even in the cold night, Peter feels warm because he has your body against his.
“Could you maybe uh… slap me?” Peter asks.
“Um, what?”
“Just so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”
You pinch his cheek instead and you both smile. Peter’s not waking up. He’s already awake. It’s not a dream, this is actually happening.
The fireworks come after all, an explosion of happiness shooting through his chest when he realises that this is real.
He hugs you tight, as tight as he can without breaking you.
Peter’s heart drops when you pull away and tears stain your cheeks, “What-what’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing, nothing,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m just so happy.” Your voice breaks as more tears rush down your face but your eyes are full of happiness.
Tonight, Peter was hoping for a hint that maybe in the future you see something more than friendship between you two too. What he got was all of you. A confession of your feelings, a raw exposure of your deepest emotions, vulnerability. But you trust him. And he’s so glad you do. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe and comfortable.
He starts crying too, just a few tears, either because he’s seeing you cry or because it’s the first time in his life that he’s ecstatic enough to experience happy tears—he’s been waiting for this for so long, unsure if it would ever even happen. All the doubt from the last months tumbles away – none of it matters anymore. You kissed him.
“I really want to blow my nose but I don’t want to leave you,” Peter sniffles.
You look at him, “Go blow your nose, Peter.”
“Okay.”
“I have some tissues in my bag.”
You keep your hand on Peter’s leg while he reaches for your bag and half a minute later you’re reunited again with you lying in Peter’s arms.
You drove all the way to look at the stars but you can’t keep your eyes off each other, never going more than a minute without kissing. It takes a few more minutes for you to pretend that the stars are more interesting than Peter, and you straddle him once you decide you can’t go any longer without being as close to him as possible.
Peter wraps his arms around your waist, enjoying your weight on him. The kisses turn from pecks into something more, but it’s soft and unhurried. You’re taking your time with Peter, savouring the feel of him while Peter takes it all, takes all you give him.
Your wet mouths on each other is the only sound far and wide; even mother nature is quiet as you kiss Peter in the back of this truck, out in the country with no one else around.
You shift, your lips never leaving Peter’s, and start grinding against him, slowly.
He squeezes your waist harder as it becomes difficult to control himself. The only thing stopping him from ruining his pants is the fact that you’re both wearing jeans, so you’re narrowly missing Peter’s hardness, doing what feels good for you.
You stop abruptly with horror in your eyes and Peter strokes your back, “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”
You look down, a bashful smile on your lips, “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”
Peter stops himself from groaning. He’s getting more turned on with every passing second.
“You don’t have to stop on my behalf.”
After two seconds of contemplation, you kiss Peter again, adjusting your position. You both gasp into each other’s mouths when you’ve perfectly aligned your bodies, and they start moving perfectly in tune with one another.
“I’ve been dreaming of having you on top of me for so long,” Peter says, hands now on your hips, feeling your every movement.
“And I’ve wanted to be on top of you.. for so long,” you’re distracted, pushing yourself up with your hands on Peter’s chest, your voice faltering as you hold in a moan.
Peter feels incredible – everything you do makes him feel incredible.
So incredible that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t cum yet, but he’s trying so hard not to.
He nearly moans when you grab his hoodie harder and you whimper, “I’m so close.”
One hand is at your jeans, trying to undo the buttons but you can’t, too lost in pleasure.
“Peter, unbutton my jeans,” you say–or rather whimper, “Please.”
And even though he’s on the brink of coming, nothing matters more than your orgasm right now, so he quickly fumbles with the buttons and opens them, your hand disappearing down your pants immediately.
Peter grabs the backs of your thighs as you cum on top of him, your face more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined, so pretty and so vulnerable just for him. He cums at the same time as you, trying to hide it but his hips push up against yours nevertheless.
You let yourself fall to Peter’s side, hiking your leg up over his lap. Peter puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“Did you uh..” you look up at him, half teasing him, half unsure if it even happened.
Peter drags a hand over his face, “Yeah… I.. came in my pants.”
“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”
He looks at you, “No, don’t apologise, that was one of the best moments of my life.”
You give him baby wipes from your bag while you pack the stuff and wait for him in the car. He reluctantly hands you the baby wipes when he gets in next to you, looking at your lap.
“What?” You ask.
“I’ve known how you smell for nearly a week now and I don’t know how much longer I can go without having a taste of you.” He’s thinking about your panties, safely stored in his room but they’ve lost even the last traces of your smell.
You follow Peter’s eyes towards your crotch and figure out what he’s talking about, “How… how do you know how I smell?”
Shit.
He forgot that you’re not supposed to know that.
But maybe, subconsciously, he said it on purpose so he can get any secrets out before you two get serious. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass, but he’s trying to look at the bright side. He’s not capable of any negative feelings when you just kissed him.
“Peter?” You ask. You don’t sound mad, you’re just curious.
“I uh, I took a pair of underwear from your room,” he starts.
“The pink ones? I’ve been looking for them.”
“Yeah, they’re pink. And it was the day after you got that clit sucking toy thing so I kept imagining you using it and then the smell made it so much more real…” he says, head hanging low in shame. You still don’t sound mad or grossed out but you haven’t heard all of it yet.
“Go on.”
“I used your underwear to um… jerk off,” he doesn’t meet your eyes until he hears your next words.
“That’s kind of hot,” you bury a hand in his hair, looking at him like you want to eat him up.
“R-really? You’re not mad?”
You shake your head and lean over to kiss him and Peter feels his blush up to his ears.
“I do want my panties back though.”
He tells you you’ll get them back and starts the engine to drive back.
“Wait,” you say, “Didn’t you want a taste?”
He immediately stops the car and leans over.
“I- well, I didn’t get a chance to get that wet but..”
“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.
You kiss his nose and unbutton your jeans, your fingers disappearing beneath them. He hears the wetness and is hard at once. And that’s when you didn’t have a chance to get that wet? You pull two glistening fingers out and bring them in front of his lips.
His cheeks heat up when he leans forward to take them into his mouth.
He moans at the taste. Sweet yet tangy. He wants to bury his face in you immediately; but you seem tired and he’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another time.
Peter pulls you close and kisses you, he’s not that good with words so he hopes his tongue in your mouth tells him how much he wants you. It doesn’t have to be now, he just wants you to know.
“I like you.” It slips out of Peter’s mouth when you pull away from the kiss but his words make you connect your lips to his again.
“I like you too,” you smile, nearly laughing because it should probably have been obvious to Peter as soon as you kissed him. Leaning back in your seat in content, you look at Peter with those beautiful eyes of yours.
Those four little words could make him cry happy tears again but he pulls himself together when you turn on one of your favourite songs and he turns away when you use the baby wipes.
Before he drives you two home, a thought pops into Peter’s head; a thought that he’s had time and time again and he has to make sure that you know exactly how he likes you.
“But I um… I want you to know that I really do like you, as a person, romantically. I– of course I enjoyed what just happened–you have no idea just how much–”
“I think it was obvious how much you enjoyed it, Peter,” you interrupt him with a teasing smile that makes him blush and stutter for a few seconds before he continues.
“So, while, of course, I’m into you sexually, the emotional and romantic part is so much more important to me, and I need you to know that. But I’ve had so many sexual thoughts about you and, now that I’ve told you that I had your underwear and everything–”
“So you feel bad that you’ve had sexual thoughts about me?” You sum it up and Peter closes his mouth and nods.
“Well, don’t. Peter, in the last month I’ve spent every minute away from you with my fingers between my legs, imagining–wishing they were yours. I’m glad I was not the only one, it’s nice to hear that you’ve been as affected as I’ve been.”
“Are you sure? Because I remember that time when you said how all guys on campus just think with their dicks and how I’m different from them but I’m really not that different. If I’m not thinking about hugging you or thinking about your smile, then I’m always thinking about getting in your pants. And that is a lot of the time. And I’m sure that, even if you’ve thought about me in that way too, I’ve thought about you way more and I just need to know if you think I’m a perv or something.”
“Peter, hey,” you cup his cheek, “I don’t think that. And you don’t think with your dick. You just said you’ve wanted me for months and you didn’t even kiss me. You’re the opposite of those guys that have nothing but sex on their minds so that they can’t even think straight and ruin friendships with girls. You didn’t do that. You thought about my and your feelings and about our connection rather than getting in my pants.”
“But I did think a lot about getting into your pants,” he sighs.
“I thought about you getting into my pants too. That’s fine. That’s the beauty of liking someone, there’s not just the romantic side but also the sexual side. But you didn’t let the sexual side control you and you cared about my feelings first and foremost. Don’t feel bad for thinking about having sex with me, I’m glad you do. But you do so much more than that. You’re nothing like those guys.”
“I’m not like the other guys?” Peter laughs and then kisses you. (He still can’t believe he’s been kissing you all night). You shake your head, reassuring him.
Hearing you say that helps him immensely. He never felt bad about imagining what having sex with you would be like. It was the fact that it was without your knowledge and he had no idea if you’d be grossed and creeped out if you knew about it because you only saw him as a friend. He was scared of making you uncomfortable if you ever found out.
But you’ve found out now and you’re not just saying that it’s okay for him to think about that, but that you have thoughts about it too. (And now his thoughts are going to be even better, knowing that you might be thinking the same thing as him and his fantasies might turn into more than just fantasies).
The journey back has both of you smiling; what just happened still seems unreal, but every shared grin reminds Peter that it really did happen.
It breaks Peter’s heart when he delivers you back to your room, but he can tell you need sleep and he’s not exactly wide awake either. You kiss him like you mean it and you don’t pull away until you’re breathless.
When he gets to his room, Peter quickly puts your panties in his laundry basket so he won’t forget, and then he throws himself onto his bed and squeals loudly. He doesn’t care if anyone hears, he’s happy and he doesn’t mind if people know.
He gets a message from his next-door neighbour Brian:
Bro, you okay?
I heard a weird noise
He texts back: Y/n kissed me :)))))
Brian: About time, happy for you!
Peter considers going over to talk to his friend and tell him all about tonight. He’s tired but there’s no way he’ll sleep now anyway.
He then gets a phone call from you, and he picks up immediately.
“Peter?”
His face drops at your unsure voice. Did you change your mind?
“Yeah?”
“Did… did that really happen?” He thinks he can hear something positive in your voice but it’s hard to tell over the phone.
“It did.”
“Oh,” you say, “Good. I’m having a hard time believing it actually happened. I’ve been waiting for so long.”
He smiles again immediately, “Trust me, it hasn’t fully sunken in yet for me either.”
“Do you maybe wanna come over?” You ask, “I know it’s late but it’s the weekend so..”
He jumps to his feet and sets off instantly, “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”
You giggle, “Me neither. I guess I was tired, but I’ll just be thinking about you all night anyway.”
You stay on the phone with him until he’s at your door, pulling him in for a kiss before he’s even in your room.
You push Peter onto the bed, lie on top of him, and hug him so tight that he can barely breathe. This would be the best way to go.
You’re both exhausted yet excited and interrupt each other with a kiss every few minutes while you’re talking about anything that comes to your mind.
“How long have you liked me?” You ask.
Peter smiles as he thinks back to the first time you met, “You made me nervous from the start because you’re so pretty, and then we talked about such personal things the first time we met. But I didn’t realise just how attracted to you I was until class a few days later when you were laughing about Professor Garfield’s jokes and talking about his ass.”
You pout and cup Peter’s cheek, “And then later I even made that joke about sucking his dick for a better score. Aw no, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he shrugs, “You just came on top of me and not him.”
You hide your face in his neck at the reminder that you just nearly had sex with Peter outside. His hand rubs over your back as if he’s not blushing at the thought of it.
“When did you start liking me?” He asks and you lift your head again.
“I thought you were cute the first time I saw you and then when we talked in the kitchen I knew I’d have to keep you because I immediately felt comfortable around you. And then… I don’t know. You just did your thing. And then my heart did its thing too.”
“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”
“It worked wonders,” you push yourself up on your hands and kiss Peter again, staying on top of him for a while until his lips feel sore.
“But regardless of this romantic… and sexual side,” you shyly smile at each other, “I meant what I said. Our friendship means a lot to me. And I’m glad we became friends before anything else.”
“Me too.”
He knows what you mean. Being friends allowed you two to get comfortable around each other first without any pressure to do things to make you attractive to the other person. Now you have a solid base of trust and you know each other; you don’t have to worry about only showing your best sides like other couples do in the beginning stages. You know each other inside out, (except for the fact that you’ve liked each other for a while — but that’s different), the good, the bad, the ugly – yet you’re still choosing each other. Happily so.
You both lie on your sides, Peter’s hand reaching over to rest on your hip. He can’t help but smile the whole time.
“Were you planning to kiss me? Or was it spontaneous?”
“I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to kiss you for months now, but for some reason it never occurred to me to make the first move. I was pretty sure you like me but the time went on and you didn’t make a move and I got scared that I’d ruin our friendship if I totally misinterpreted everything and you didn’t like me back.
“And I would have never forgiven myself for that. But when we were lying in the back of that truck, underneath the stars, I don’t know, it was so romantic and you were looking at me with so much adoration that there’s no way I wouldn’t have kissed you. My heart was leading me, I only gathered the courage because my body did what it knew I had to do, I was not in control at that moment, but I guess sometimes it’s good to give up control. But it was definitely spontaneous.”
Peter leans down so his face is right in front of your chest and he whispers, “Thank you, heart,” to which he hears your gorgeous laugh. Your whole body moves with your giggles, pushing your chest even closer to his face. It takes a second for him to get the willpower to pull his face away again.
You connect your lips to his a few more times, Peter’s heart fluttering with every passing second.
“Just so you know, I have liked you all this time, you were right. But I felt the same as you and you’re the most important person to me so I didn’t want to take even the slightest risk when it came to us. There were times when I thought our friendship would even survive me confessing my feelings and you not feeling the same, but by not telling you there was always the hope that you did like me.
“But if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, even if our friendship survived, it wouldn’t have mattered because it would have broken my heart into a million pieces. And I couldn’t put myself through that-”
“I’d never do that. I’ll take good care of your heart, Peter.”
“I know you will.”
You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.
“Okay, looking back, I probably should have known that you like me as more than a friend. Your love for my legs gave it away, but at the time I didn’t realise-”
“How do you know that I love your legs?” Peter asks as he turns red, looking at your thighs and resisting the urge to put his hand on one of them.
“When you were drunk, you told me how much you love them. You were basically drooling because of them.”
“Oh.. I don’t remember that. But I do love them.”
“I know,” you smile as you place one of his hands on your thigh and he squeezes the flesh.
You lie next to each other for a while, breath evening out and Peter thinks you’ve fallen asleep until he hears your voice, “Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“I still can‘t believe that this is actually happening. It‘s like when you‘re at a concert and you don‘t realise that you‘re seeing your favourite artist live and in person, and afterwards you still haven’t realised, and you never really get how lucky you were.”
Peter turns to his side to face you, his tired brain taking a while to answer, but he’s satisfied with what he says, “But a concert only happens once, and we‘ll be together forev— a long time. And longterm. We have plenty of time to realise that it‘s real. Maybe we‘ll realise if you kiss me again.”
You grin immediately and lean in to connect your mouth to Peter’s.
He understands what you’re saying, he can’t quite believe it either. It’s been too long for it to be a dream, he knows that it’s real, but it’ll take a few days for him to realise that he really is the luckiest person on earth.
He’s grateful that you two have something so beautiful that it nearly feels impossible.
You touch each other for a bit, not sexually, you’re just touching each other’s skin, realising more and more that this is reality.
You lazily make out for a few more minutes until Peter drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had, with you in his arms.
｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡
It’s been a few weeks since that one eventful night and you’re spending even more time with each other than before. Making out with you has become Peter’s new hobby.
He loves that you’re experiencing all your sexual firsts together. You haven’t actually done anything more than kiss since the night under the stars, and he’s more than happy to be patient if you need it but he’s looking forward to more.
“Is it okay if we don’t go all the way yet?” You ask him while you’re both hydrating and eating fruit between makeout sessions, “I definitely want to soon, but maybe not… not yet.”
Peter pulls you on top of his lap and holds you, “We established that the very first time we met, didn’t we? Of course it’s okay if we wait.”
“Okay,” you kiss him, “I don’t mean that we can’t do anything though.”
Peter licks his lips when he realises you’re planning something. You push Peter’s chest so he lies on his back and you slot your hips over his. His eyes flutter shut when he feels your mouth on the special spot on his neck and you slowly start grinding on him.
He grabs your hips and opens his eyes again when you stop kissing him to focus on that sweet place between your legs rubbing against Peter.
You stop when your eyes meet, “You have to close your eyes.”
“I wanna see you though.”
“It’s different from the first time, we’re not out during the night. And the position’s uncomfortable.”
“Then let’s change it.”
He’s already hard and if you continue like that he won’t take much longer; but your pleasure is more important to him so he pulls his sweat shorts further up his leg and lifts you onto his thigh.
Your eyes go down and you realise what he wants you to do, “But you–”
“Shh, this is about you right now, okay? And I’ll cum as soon as you do anyway so don’t worry about me. This okay?”
He sees how his words give you confidence and you nod, letting yourself fully sit down on his thigh. Peter knew he liked your pretty skirt for more than aesthetic reasons because the only thing between your warm pussy and Peter’s skin is your underwear. He could cum from the feeling of your wet heat through your panties alone, but he tries to focus on making you breathless with his kisses once you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close.
He holds you as you rock yourself on his thigh, becoming surer in your movements after a while, finding what feels best for you. Peter instinctively flexes the muscles in his thigh when you change your position slightly, and your little gasp tells him to continue doing it.
Your wetness slowly but surely drenches your panties and reaches Peter’s skin. You grab his shirt hard and bury your other hand in his hair, pulling. Peter tries bouncing his leg up and down and is rewarded with the sweetest moan coming from your mouth, followed by a gasp and a whispered: “I’m gonna cum.”
Your legs get weaker while you’re coming but, through his own approaching orgasm, Peter pushes your hips in whatever direction you want them to go and together you try to savour your highs for as long as possible.
Out of breath, you’re still holding onto Peter tightly. As your hand in his hair slowly lets go, you press a kiss to his head, your hand on his shirt easing too as you smooth down the material.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask carefully but Peter shakes his head and purses his lips for you to give him a kiss, and you smile when you do.
“Oh, wait did you really cum?” You’re glancing down at the wet spot on his pants but your eyes widen when you get off him and realise how much you leaked onto his thigh yourself.
“I don’t know how I couldn’t cum when I have the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world having an orgasm on my lap.”
You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from him while your cheeks heat up. You get off him and he goes to the bathroom to clean up.
You’re absentmindedly biting your lip when Peter comes back and he pulls you out of your daydream with a kiss.
“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”
Peter freezes for a second and then jumps onto the bed. You laugh, “Wait, I need a break first.”
“Okay,” he sits down next to you and swallows. He’s hard already just from the thought of going down on you. He couldn’t be happier that you want him to do it, he’s had daydreams (well, he’s mostly thought about it during nighttime) about it so many times.
“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He asks. It’s something you’ve done for him countless times and he doesn’t return the favour as often as he’d want to because your massages are heavenly and he can barely get up after.
“Yes please,” you lie down on your stomach, “But don’t stand on me.” You both chuckle.
Your massages consist of kneeling or standing on Peter’s back. It sounds painful but to him it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t just like your weight on his lap, he likes you on top of him in various scenarios.
He’s kneading your shoulders for about a minute when you suddenly sit up, “Okay, the break is over, can you eat me out now?”
A smile spreads over Peter’s face and you kiss him, a similar expression on your lips.
You get comfortable on your back and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your skirt.
Peter sits between your legs, speechless, thumb rubbing over the large wet spot on your panties. You gasp when he touches you there but Peter can’t continue before showing you how much he loves your tits first. They're perfect.
He kisses his way up your stomach, inching further up until your nipple is in his mouth and your hand goes into his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of one of your boobs in his hand and the other one against his tongue until you push his head away.
He worries he’s hurt you but you whimper and spread your legs, pulling them up against your chest, “Please,” is all you can manage to say. Peter’s hands wander down your sides and between your legs, his fingers gliding over your panties.
Peter drags your underwear down your legs slowly, a string of your arousal staying connected to your panties momentarily. He licks his lips and kneels in front of the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.
With your legs on his shoulders, Peter kisses your clit once, watching as your eyes flutter shut. He’s forgetting that this is your first time too, so your expectations probably aren’t too high. And you’re wet from your earlier orgasm and it seems to be doing wonders for you; you already start arching your back when Peter licks up and down your clit a few times.
He savours the taste of you on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted, and knowing that he’s tasting you because you’re wet for him makes things even better.
As he plays with your clit, his tongue in your pussy, he puts a hand on your stomach. It’s just because he doesn’t know where else to put his hand, but you grab some of his fingers, holding his hand and Peter’s convinced his eyes must be shaped like hearts right now. He’s always loved holding hands with you.
He makes out with your pussy, your juices all over his mouth, and he starts sucking your clit.
“Peter..” your voice comes out as a whimper and you grip his hand harder. You arch further into him and your eyes squeeze shut, and Peter can tell you’re coming – on his tongue, with his face between your legs, just like he’s imagined so many times but it’s so much better than what he ever could have wished for.
He only pulls his mouth away from you slowly, not wanting the moment to end. You don’t let go of his hand, instead using your intertwined fingers to pull him up so Peter can kiss you.
You hug him like you never want to let him go again and Peter gladly complies. He wraps his arms around you and lies on top of you for as long as you’ll have him.
“I’m too tired to return the favour,” you say after a while.
“That’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good.”
He’s glad you said it because then you won’t need to find out that he came in his pants ages ago, yet again, and you don’t need to be reminded of what a loser your boyfriend can be and how you’re the opposite.
Peter lifts his head so you’re looking at each other, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him on the lips a few times.
“I’m getting cold,” you say.
“I’ll keep you warm.”
You smile and kiss his forehead, “I should get dressed. And I need to pee. But you can cuddle me again after.” Peter gets up and scoops you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you.
He carries you to the bathroom and even though he’s completely dressed and you’re naked and vulnerable, he can tell you’re content and comfortable by the way you drop your head to his shoulder and let him hold you.
You’re in the bathroom while gets the clothes you asked him to get from your room, but he changes first so he’s not walking around the student accommodation with a mess in his pants.
You’re sitting on the bed in all your naked glory when he gets back. He stares for a second, smiling softly as he realises how lucky he is to get to see you like this, that he’s the only one in the world who does and that you want him to see you like this.
It’s later in the night and you’re in bed, you sitting on top of Peter, kissing him. It’s not sexual; you’re enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, locking lips over and over and over. Peter couldn’t be happier. There’s a smile on his face the whole time.
“I like kissing you. Like a lot,” you say.
“I love kissing you.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna be my boy—”
“Girlfriend? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He interrupts you, somewhat surprised.
You grin and throw your arms around him, “Yes.”
“Sorry, I wanted to say it. After you made the first move I wanted to do this.”
“Everything okay?” You ask, realising he’s not telling you everything simply by looking at him.
“Well I don’t know, I kind of thought we were together already,” he says and your face softens.
“Oh. I mean we may as well have been. But we never properly talked about it. And just now I realised how sad I was that I couldn't officially call you my boyfriend, so I wanted to make sure that I could.”
“You’re right, now we have talked about it. And now it’s official. The most beautiful woman in the world is officially my girlfriend,” he beams as he cups your cheek and kisses you again.
You lie down next to him, his arm around you as you cuddle into his side.
After a few moments of looking at Peter, you start giggling, as if you just remembered something funny or embarrassing about him.
“What?” He asks.
“Nothing just, I’m so into you, and you really weren’t sure if I liked you? I know we‘ve talked about how we were both too scared to ruin the friendship but we were both idiots.
“I mean, I tried to give you the boldest, most obvious signs. I kept holding your hand, talked about me getting off. I changed in front of you, slept next to you half-naked? Peter, I said I’d suck your dick.”
“Yeah but it was only in relation to you sucking professor Garfield’s dick for a better mark.”
“Knowing me, do you think I’d really suck a professor’s dick to get a better score?”
He shrugs, “Well, not when you say it like that, no. But we didn’t know each other that well yet. And hearing the girl you like say she’ll suck another guy’s dick isn’t nice regardless of if she’s being serious or not.”
You pout and cup his face, kissing him a few times, “I only want your dick, promise.”
“And my dick only wants you,” he says, earning a small laugh from you.
“But seriously, I contemplated peeing while you were in the bathroom with me at that party. If there was an obvious sign that I liked you, it would be that,” you joke.
“Just so you know, you can pee in front of me. And as long as you’re okay with that, I’d also feel comfortable peeing in front of you.”
You scrunch up your face, “We’ll avoid it if we can.” You both laugh but you know it would be no big deal and you’d be comfortable with it. It sounds like a weird thing to bond over, but Peter thinks it’s sweet.
“Anyway, I know I brought it up but can we stop talking about peeing so you can go down on me again?”
Peter’s eyes light up, “Yes, yesyesyes,” and he starts kissing down your body.
*
“So,” Peter asks you a few days later, “You know how you said your sex toy is supposed to feel like oral sex? So who’s better? Me or the vibrator?”
You give him an exaggerated pout and scoot closer to him on the bed, ”Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”
You’ve just come back from a date Peter planned. You got take-out from your favourite restaurant and ate it next to the river that goes through the city. You walked for hours, holding hands, talking, getting ice cream and just being with each other.
While Peter loves going out with you, he’s not sure if anything can beat spending time alone with you, in your bed, utterly comfortable and being nothing but yourself. Not to mention that you two can have sex whenever you want to.
“I don’t mind if you say it’s the vibrator, I mean it’s made for making you feel good and I’m just some guy,” Peter says, “It’s literally called a clit-sucker.”
“Sex with you is better but if you’re comparing the toy with you sucking my clit, then the vibrator is better, yes,” you move to his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his head.
“Can I use it on you?”
You bite your lip when he says it, “There’s not much you can do, you just hold it against my clit.”
“I’d love to do that.”
You grin and start kissing him.
He flips you around so you’re under him. He slowly takes off all your clothes and you pull off his shirt. He can’t resist getting a taste of you before he starts, humming as he begins eating you out, tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit.
You whine when he stops but you both remember that you wanted to use your toy. He kisses his way up your body, your arousal on his lips.
“You’re so hot, I don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispers into your skin as he’s kissing your belly. You tug him up to you to kiss him with such intensity that tells him he deserves you, all of you. You’re made for each other. And you feel it too.
You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out your vibrator. Peter smiles as he spreads your legs and lies down between them.
“Like this?” He turns it on and you adjust the setting, lying back when Peter presses a kiss on your clit and places the toy on your pussy.
You put your hand over his, shifting it so it’s in the perfect place. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and rests his cheek against your other thigh, occasionally kissing the skin there. He brings his arm over your body, smoothing his hand over your tummy and grabbing one of your tits, playing with your nipple.
Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, burying your fingers in it as he tells you how pretty you are and how he wants you to cum.
You glance at Peter between your legs, smiling and laying your head back down on the pillow. A few moments later he notices your breathing changing and how your hips slightly buck up.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your back arching, and Peter puts his hand over your lower belly to keep you down. Your hand tightens in his hair as frantic breaths and strangled sounds leave your mouth, not able to form any coherent sentence.
After a few seconds, Peter wants to pull the toy away, thinking you’re done, but you hold his hand in place until your legs shake and he feels your belly convulsing under his hand. You’re coming until your head drops to the side and you let go of both his hair and his hand so he pulls away the vibrator.
“Oh–God. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Sorry if I hurt you,” your hand goes through his hair once more but he kisses your hand instead, “Don’t worry.”
You let your head fall back, your eyes not leaving Peter. The way you’re looking at him is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there, but he takes your hand and kisses you instead.
You wrap your legs around Peter’s waist and pull him as close as you can, “Can we go all the way? I feel so empty, I need you inside of me.”
Peter gulps at your words, pulling his hips away from yours so he doesn’t finish before you’ve even started. “Are you sure? Last week you said you wanted to wait.”
“Yeah, I am. I thought it would take me longer to be comfortable around you when I’m naked but I feel so good, and I like being naked in front of you. I like how you look at me and how it makes me feel,” you smile softly and kiss him.
“I like having you naked in front of me too.”
“I know, that’s why I’m so comfortable. And the fact that I want this so quickly shows me that it’s the right thing and also I just really really need you inside of me.”
“Oh my god,” he whispers, closing his eyes to refocus, “I have to get the condoms.”
“Make sure to hide this first,” your hands go to the front of his sweatpants and he playfully narrows his eyes at you because you know exactly that what you’re doing is not helping his situation.
After another kiss from you, he manages to pull himself away from you and hides his hardness as well as he can. He slips back into his shirt and runs to his room to get the condoms you two bought the other week just so you’d have them.
When he comes back you already have your fingers between your legs, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Don’t apologise, baby,” Peter says before taking off his clothes in record time and joining you on the bed.
You make out for a few minutes, forgetting everything else. His fingers wander to your pussy, playing with your clit until you can’t keep kissing him anymore, distracted by the pleasure.
He slips one finger into your pussy first, then two.
“Peter, it’s not enough,” you moan with a desperation in your voice that makes him even harder which, up to this point, felt impossible.
“‘M just checking you can take it, get you used to having something inside of you.”
You sigh into his mouth and give him the dirtiest kiss you ever have. “Just so you know.. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warns you, afraid of disappointing you.
“I don’t care, I just need you right now.”
“What if I cum immediately once I’m in you?”
You hold his face in your hands, “Fuck, Pete, that’s so hot. I want you to cum inside of me.”
“Don’t say that because I will.”
“Please, please, I’m ready,” you whisper.
“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”
You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.
“Okay, just checking,” he says, putting on the condom.
You hold on to his neck as he lines himself up with you, feeling how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you’re okay once he’s inside of you completely, “You okay?”
“Yeah, it feels even bigger inside of me.”
He blushes at you calling his dick big and runs a hand down your cheek, “Should I pull out?”
“No, no. Just give me a second.”
You both take deep breaths once Peter starts rubbing your clit – you because you’re relaxing, Peter because he’s about to cum if he doesn’t focus.
He has you coming around his dick quickly. You press your chest against Peter’s when your back arches from the pleasure and you kiss the side of his face when you’re coming down from the high.
“Lift me up,” you tell him and you end up pushing Peter down on the bed, straddling his lap.
You place your hands on either side of Peter’s head, leaving him with your tits right in his face. You tell him to fuck you and with his hands on your hips, Peter slowly thrusts into you from below.
Your pussy squeezes him so tight, and you’re so warm, “Fuck, you feel so so good,” he groans.
You start bouncing on him, meeting his thrusts halfway, now more used to him inside of you.
He closes his eyes, trying to think of something else but your quiet moans and your earlier words about wanting him to cum in you make him orgasm after a few more seconds.
He fucks you until he’s too exhausted to move and you grin down at him, both of you lying down to cuddle.
You don’t say anything for a few minutes, both exhausted and content, only grinning at each other and occasionally giving the other a lazy kiss before you sit up on him again, your nipples right in front of his mouth.
He takes the opportunity to run his tongue around one, but you lean back, dazed, “No, no, you’ll make me horny again,” you smile, “And I don’t think I can take another orgasm right now.”
He kisses your sternum instead and picks you up in his arms so you can take a shower together.
Peter washes your body for you, taking his time to massage every part of you for a few seconds. He wants to spoil and pamper you and take as much work off your hands as he can. He knows you’d do the same for him.
Once you’re both clean, you stand under the water for a while, Peter’s arms around your waist, your back pulled to his chest. Your breathing is calm and your eyes are closed, completely relaxed against Peter.
“I came in here once,” Peter interrupts the silence.
You slowly open your eyes and turn around to face him, a smile making its way onto your face before it turns into a laugh, “What?”
“It was after that night when I got really drunk. I woke up with this perfect ass right against my crotch,” he squeezes one of your ass cheeks for emphasis.
“You mean back when we were just friends?” You ask, pulling his arms around your body again, “That feels so long ago.”
“And at the same time like it was yesterday.”
“Yeah,” you smile, “I probably would have helped you out if you’d asked.”
“Really?”
“I was already into you then and there’s no way I would have been able to–or wanted to–resist if I found out you were horny because of me. I was coming on my vibrator three times a day wishing it was you instead.”
Peter runs a hand over his face, remembering how scared he was that you’d never like him back, “I was wishing it was me too. I heard you that one time, when you were masturbating while I was waiting for you in there,” he nods his head towards the door to your room.
“You can’t blame me, you saw how that thing makes me cum,” you lean your head on his shoulder, hiding your embarrassment.
The moment you look down and see that Peter’s hard again, he stiffens even more.
“You’re getting harder from me looking at your dick?” You ask, licking your lips.
He nods, putting a hand around the back of your neck and gently pulling you towards him, kissing you to distract you from the blush creeping onto his cheeks.
While your teeth tug at Peter’s bottom lip, your hands smooth down his chest, over his faint happy trail and eventually you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps at the first contact and opens his eyes, meeting your lust-filled gaze, “I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” you say, starting to jerk him off with a slightly unsure look on your face.
“Is this okay?” You ask and Peter nods, “Show me how you do it,” you urge, lifting Peter’s hand to wrap it around your own.
With a firm grip, Peter guides your hand, “F-fuck,” is all he can manage to get out apart from a shaky breath. Your free hand runs across his chest, occasionally rubbing over his nipples, making him gasp.
“I really need you to cum for me right now,” you whisper, looking down at your hand sliding up and down his dick. Your words make him groan and before he can prepare, waves of pleasure flow through him, his cum splashing all over your tummy. He can’t stop coming, especially not when you angle his cock further towards you, your belly now covered in him.
“Fuck,” you both moan at the same time and then you smile at each other. You step away from the spray of the shower, sliding a finger across your skin and sucking it into your mouth.
If he hadn’t already cum three times today, Peter would be hard in half a second. He shakes his head in disbelief, not sure what he did to ever deserve a girlfriend as sexy as you. He runs his thumb over your belly, picking up the rest of his cum on you and you open your mouth before he even asks you to.
He pushes it into your mouth slowly and you hum as he does it. Grabbing your face right after, he kisses you until neither of you can breathe. “Can I eat you out again now?”
You grin immediately, “Yes, but I’m tired.”
After you’ve dried off, he carries you to your bed, making sure you’re comfortable on it before his mouth disappears between your legs. He’s proud of how you grip his hair, grinding your pussy against his face and how you cum on his tongue.
He gets a notification on his phone just as he’s done kissing you after he made you cum. He ordered some food before you two went in the shower and it’s about to arrive.
“Go and get it, I can wait,” you tell him, but he makes sure to kiss your forehead and give you water and baby wipes before pulling on some clothes and rushing downstairs to get the food.
You eat it on your bed with a towel laid down to make sure nothing gets dirty. Peter likes how you randomly grab his hand while you’re eating or asking him to pass you your drink.
With some quiet music playing, you make yourselves comfortable in your bed, cuddling.
“Thank you,” you say, looking at him like he’s responsible for all good in the world.
“For what?”
“For everything. For taking care of me. For being you,” you slide your fingers between his. He picks up your intertwined hands and kisses yours, “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for being you, and for being with me.”
“There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with,” you lean over to kiss him, leaving your lips on his for a few seconds. “This white shirt looks so good on you, it’s my favourite,” you tell him, smoothing down the material and then resting your head on his chest.
“Thank you,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tight, “You know what looks even better on me?”
“Me?” You ask, already knowing what Peter is going to say and he adores you for it.
“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”
“I like this position, I like hearing your heart beating so clearly,” you say, nuzzling up against him.
“And I like that I can feel a heartbeat as soon as I put my hand here,” Peter smirks, sliding a hand between your legs and immediately feeling the pulsating warmth, even through your panties.
“Don’t blame me for getting turned on when the man I love touches my pussy,” you say, grabbing Peter’s hand into yours and away from your underwear to stop you from getting horny.
It takes both of you a second to realise that you just said that you love him. Probably because you’ve both felt it for a while; first as friends, then as lovers. Even if no one’s said it yet, it was obvious.
“I love you too,” he says softly and that’s when you realise what you just said. You turn towards him and start grinning, meeting Peter’s own wide smile. You start littering his face with kisses until he holds your face in place to kiss your lips. It’s like you melt right into his mouth once your lips touch his.
You spend the rest of the night telling each other that you love the other, giggling and cuddling and kissing until the early morning hours.
*
Peter wants to sit through this lecture with you on his lap when you get to the lecture hall one minute before the lesson starts and there are no two seats free next to each other.
But you two promised yourselves that you weren’t going to be that annoying couple that has to be together at all times, so you two sit at opposite sides of the room.
Peter’s stomach tingles with jealousy when he sees that you’re sitting next to a guy you know. Brandon. Peter remembers him from the day you and Peter met. When it was Peter’s turn to tell an embarrassing sex story and he had nothing to say, you told Brandon to tell his story instead, distracting everyone and saving Peter.
He smiles when he thinks back to it; who knew that you two would end up in love?
But he hears your giggle through the entire lecture hall, over all the over murmuring, and Peter frowns. He knows it’s stupid if not wrong to be jealous about something so trivial. He’s more than okay with you having a male friend as long as he’s a good person; Peter’s happy about every nice friend you have.
But he’s spent the last few months getting to know you inside and out and you never mentioned Brandon. Now you’re talking to him like you’re best friends. Okay, the thing that bothers Peter the most is that you apparently knew Brandon’s sex story before he told it to the whole party.
Why were you talking to Brandon about sex? And why did you never mention it to Peter?
He knows you’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s ridiculous that he feels like this over a story and you laughing at another man’s jokes. If he was sitting next to you, he’s sure he’d be fine, but it doesn’t help that you’re out of reach.
He’s more curious than jealous, or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, knowing he has no right to feel this way about such a little thing.
He tries to accept the feeling, tries to focus on what Professor Garfield is saying but throughout the whole lecture Brandon is in the back of Peter’s mind.
By the end of the lesson, he’s more mad than anything else – mad at himself for being jealous. He doesn't want to turn into one of those possessive, toxic and controlling boyfriends. He trusts you and he should be okay with you having dozens of male friends.
He waits for you by the door when the lecture is over, and in the sea of students you and Brandon leave the room separately. Peter’s so focussed on Brandon that he only notices you standing next to him once you hold his hand.
“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately. Peter didn’t know he was being that obvious.
He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.
“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.
“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.
You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”
“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”
“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”
“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.
“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”
“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”
“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”
“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”
He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”
“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”
He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.
You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”
Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”
“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?”
“Really?”
“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”
There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.
“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”
You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”
“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.
“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.
“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.
You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.
“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”
He nods.
“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”
Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”
“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”
“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.
“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”
Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”
“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”
“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again.
“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.
“Y-yeah..”
“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.
“No wait–”
“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.
A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.
After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.
He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”
You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him.
“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”
He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.
“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.
Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”
You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”
“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.
He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.
“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.
“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”
“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.
“What?” He sits up straighter.
“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.
“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”
You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.
You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.
Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.
You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.
“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.
He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.
You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.
But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.
“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”
“I don’t care.”
He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.
He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”
You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.
He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.
“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.
You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.
This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.
“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.
“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.
He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.
The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.
He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.
“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself.
Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night.
You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.
☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆
#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#Peter Parker x you#Peter Parker x y/n#Spiderman x reader#Spiderman smut#peter parker fluff#fem!reader#college!Peter Parker#Peter Parker fanfiction#spider man: no way home#peter parker#tom holland#Peter Parker college au#peter parker friends to lovers
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𝔅𝔞𝔫𝔤 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 ; #2
okay okay this is just a hard thought i’ve had since i woke up today (that says a lot about me ig)
like you know how bang chan is usually portrayed as a dom in fics, right? nothing wrong with it i absolutely love dom chan i stan dom chan - but part of me is also convinced he is a huuuuuge switch
so basically this is u spanking mr. bang!
tw: switch!chan & switch!reader ; spanking ofc ; mentions of anal play (m receiving) but nothing happens! ; also mentions of balls slapping ; both mommy and daddy kinks bc i said so ;
it’s a known fact that chan loves spanking you, you know? just bend you over his legs, pull your pants down your legs or flip your skirt. he thinks it’s a punishment, you think it’s a reward, the way his fingers collide with your asscheeks with each slap. and oh, his hisses when he sees the reddish marks on your skin are the most beautiful sound in the whole world… he’d get so hard just from spanking your pretty ass, occasionally running the pads of his fingers along your folds to collect some of your wetness - of course, he’d lick his digits clean afterwards, he could never miss the opportunity to taste your sweet arousal 🤤 “my dirty girl… aren’t you enjoying your punishment a bit too much, love?” he teases you, slapping your ass a bit harder this time, but you only moan harder and it makes his cock twitch in his pants. “ah, you like it when daddy spanks you, don’t you?” and he gives you the fucking of your life afterwards, yk? ass up, face down so that he can keep watching your pretty ass as he fucks you - caressing the marks on your skin as well as landing new slaps on your flesh.
but what if… what if it’s you spanking him? have him lying on his tummy, bent over your legs, with his boxers almost all the way down his toned thighs.
it started as a joke, you landing a playful slap on his ass - neither of you were expecting a moan to come out of his mouth. and now here he is, trying to hold back his whimpers as your fingers caress his asscheeks, fisting the sheets beneath him as he bites his lip.
“aw, does daddy like it? daddy likes when i touch his pretty ass?” you grin as you keep brushing the soft skin and then - you land your first slap on his ass, and chan gasps. “mommy asked you a question.”
and his brain short-circuits because, you know, mommy? he’s never called you that before and he finds it… hot. so hot his pretty cock, hard and pressed against your thighs, starts leaking pre-cum.
“y-yes, mommy, i like it,” he whimpers, and you reward him by spanking him once again.
“good,” you bite your lip at the sight of your red hand print beginning to show on chan’s skin, “now you’re gonna count for mommy. right, daddy? you’re gonna count each slap mommy gives on this pretty ass of yours?”
chan nods, and you spank him.
“o-one,” he hisses, and you can’t see him but he’s rolling his eyes back in pleasure.
you continue spanking him, enjoying the way his body shivers and trembles under your touch - each slap on his asscheeks is bringing him closer and closer to his release. he can’t believe it feels this good, no wonder you’re always crazy wet when he spanks you.
“ten- ten, mommy,” he whimpers.
it’s the prettiest sight - his ass red from your slaps on his fair skin. you could keep going all night - make him cum like this, maybe even overstimulate him a bit until he begs you to stop, until he squirts. because of you. for you.
“you’ve been so good, daddy,” you praise him, and he blushes a little. “i should spank this ass more often, don’t you think?” you mumble, groping the soft flesh, squeezing it between your fingers. he looks so pretty like this - bent over your legs only for you, his asscheeks and balls on full display for your eyes to see. “maybe i should slap your pretty balls too… i bet you’d like it, daddy.” he whines when you cup them in your hands, giving them a delicate yet firm squeeze. “next time, daddy.”
he’s about to protest, tell you he wants it now, that he doesn’t think he’s gonna be able to wait until next time, that his cock is so fucking hard right now and he needs you to do something about it when - oh. he feels your hand on his ass once again, spreading his cheeks a bit.
“such a pretty hole, daddy…” you hum, thinking of all the times he said the very same thing to you - his ending with babygirl, of course.
he feels so exposed and he fucking loves it, his cock leaking even more pre-cum at the thought of you touching him there, of having your pretty fingers deep inside his-
“oh,” you gasp, feigning surprise, “your cock is so hard, daddy. do you like this?”
he nods desperately, fisting the sheets even tighter. “i do, mommy, i do. please, do something, please,” he begs.
you’re not gonna finger him. not tonight, at least.
“you look so hot like this, daddy,” you comment, pupils full blown at the sight of your boyfriend being so vulnerable, letting you see him like this.
“yeah? thank you, baby,” he lets out a surprised gasp when you spank him.
“it’s mommy tonight.”
“sorry. m-mommy,” he corrects himself, “thank you mommy.”
“mhhh look at this pretty hole, daddy…” you hum, then smirk when chan whimpers, “maybe one day i’ll touch you there if you want, yeah?”
at this point, chan is a mess - cock continuously throbbing, brain short-circuiting as he discovers a new side of himself. “y-yeah,” he gasps, feeling close.
“yeah? you’d want that?” you ask, and chuckle when he nods desperately. “you’ll let mommy touch this pretty hole of yours?” he whines when you spread his cheeks once again, not touching him there, just looking. “you’ll let me breach this tight hole with my fingers?” his cock throbs once more and he involuntary thrusts his hips, brushing your thighs with his leaking cockhead. “you’ll let me run my tongue along your pretty hole, daddy, won’t you?”
chan comes unexpectedly, with a gasp - his whole body trembling and clenching as he finishes on your thighs and his stomach, making a mess.
“m-mommy…”
you smile, running your fingers through his dark hair as he pants, heart hammering in his chest. it’s beating so fast you can hear it.
“you’ve been so good…” you praise him, and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to place a soft, chaste kiss on it. “you’ve been so good to me, daddy.”
#bangchan smut#bangchan hard thoughts#bang chan hard thoughts#bang chan smut#bang chan hard hours#bangchan hard hours#chan smut#chan hard thoughts#chan hard hours#stray kids smut#skz#stray kids#skz smut#skz masterlist#stray kids masterlist#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fic#stray kids drabbles
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✎ breastfeeding m! Kylar like he deserves ♡
. . . ˚✧.⊹ tags ⊹⁺. ೀ
2.5k words (wow im a horny bastard), informal writing, m! Kylar with cock, unprotected p in v sex, unrealistic sex, Kylar is a very submissive and pathetic (/affectionate) top, lactating pc from cow transformation, BIG GIANT TATAS and AFAB anatomy terms. u got coochie n it'll b called cunt and pussy but Kylar doesn't call u by either feminine terms or masculine terms so it's,,, gender-neutral reader-ish??
. . . ⋆ ꮺ˚⊹ notes ⊹ ༘˚
WHY BOTHER HAVING A BREAST MILK MECHANIC IF U CANT GIVE IT TO ANY OF THE LOVE INTERESTS... SMH VREL GET ON IT /LH also dis is a shoutout to da fellow transmascs like me that don't mind hvin big tatas 2 feed kylar <33 my first full fic i tink!! enjoy!!!
♡ ┆ u 2 are on a date at the part as usual. when u casually suggest it, his brain just stops working. his mouth hangs open and u have to shake him to snap him out of it.
"uhh, haha, sorry, darling... c-could you repeat that?"
with a smirk, you do. you lean in and suggest going somewhere private so he could enjoy your milk directly from the source. all the blood in his cheeks rush to his cock almost immediately. he is so down bad for u, he's fucking floored u even suggested it.
♡ ┆ he gets more cocky, confident, and possessive during sex, but at this point, he's only squeezed your chest so far, not sure how he could even begin to explain himself. he’s seen u lactate when u cum, he just didnt know if it was overstepping a boundary to just dive in. its early into the relationship so he doesnt know if youre comfortable with that part of your bovine biology. hes a perv but hes also a polite boy!! well... most of the time ♡ he couldnt just walk up to u and say i want ur milk babe, you deserve better than that, he just didnt know how to ask... so ofc he's over the moon you're the one who brought it up
♡ ┆ absolutely solidifies in his mind that you're an angel sent from heaven to protect him and love him
♡ ┆ he's a stinky little anime nerd /pos. pre-relationship, after you saved him from bullies, he draws u and ur cute fluffy cow ears and massive anime-like tits in all sorts of erotic ways. does all the hentai tropes. fists his needy, leaky cock at night to the drawings he's made of u. when you start dating, it was like he was walking on cloud 9 when you wanted to recreate some of his erotic drawings (bc ofc u pushed to see his sketchbook when he mentioned it was full of only u lol)
♡ ┆ cant go to the manor, kylar isnt comfy w that yet. cant be in pc’s bedroom, kylar doesnt even want a single chance of someone who knows you and lives with you to see u giving him milk, it's his and only his in sight, sound,,, and ofc taste. hed get jealous if other orphans u live with saw yall doing it, bc if they see he thinks theyre never gonna forget the sight..... which could lead 2 all sorts of trouble since they live with u and he doesnt. he wants it to only be his even in memory. PATHETIC /POS so yalls only option is a cheap-ass love hotel. maybe someday youll fuck somewhere nicer but this’ll have to do… not to mention kylar is thrumming w/ excitement. he’s fucking trembling at the mere thought of getting to taste your sweet milk, directly from your heavy chest which was always tempting him… PATHETIC /POS (1)
♡ ┆ at first, kylar cant get his bearings. he sits next to u on the bed, hands politely on his lap while his cock strains against his pants. hes strangely silent until u snap him out of it with a kiss on the cheek. “ah… d-darling, you don’t know how much this means to me.” he says in a shaky voice. you chuckle and slowly begin to lift your shirt, making sure to give him a show. the way your heavy tits laden with the milk he craves always looked like they were spilling out, your bra barely being able to hold them back never failed to do a number on kylar’s psyche.
♡ ┆ ”c’mon, you’ve already seen me lactate. get me wet first, babe, then it’ll come out.” you tease as you unclasp your bra effortlessly and toss it to the side, your tits swaying with every movement you make. kylar is hypnotized. just a lot of spacing out in general until you two really get into it.
♡ ┆ your back is laid on the bed, and Kylar moves to get your pants and panties off. the sight never fails to make him breathless. he figures the quickest way to taste your sweet milk is to eat you out, so he does, very diligently. he dives in and devours your pussy like a man starved, he does this every time. he just can’t believe someone as perfect as you would willingly give yourself to him, and he wants to show his gratitude properly, always…
♡ ┆ this mf latches onto your cunt with an intense need and desperation. not only is he making his beloved feel good, he’s working to get your milk flowing as well… it makes him especially ravenous. licking up and sucking on your sensitive folds, using his hands to part your lips and plunge his tongue into you deeper… when you pat his fluffy, unkempt hair and moan… “fuuuuck yes, that’s it, good boy…” he goes absolutely ballistic in his brain. it goes w/o saying that he has a praise kink, loves giving and receiving it. he’s especially emboldened when he feels his head sandwiched between the softness of your thighs, he’s going delirious with need at this point, eyes all half-lidded and bleary, focused on nothing but lapping up the fluids your cunt makes. he's fucking groaning against your folds, can't get enough of your sweet taste. his cock is straining to be free right now, but your pleasure takes precedence.
♡ ┆ eventually, he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks hard, tongue swirling around it as he’s making you scream. “K-Kylar!!” it fills him with a sick thrill, like he’s letting all the strangers in this damn sleazy love hotel know that he’s the one making his darling cry out with pleasure. he pulls back for a moment, a string of saliva connecting between your cunt and his lips to smirk confidently at you. “that’s it, darling, let it all out.” he says, as he’s licking a broad stripe up your pussy, “let them all hear how much you love what i’m doing to you.”
♡ ┆ the moment he sees your tits drip with milk, he unlatches his mouth from your cunt with a soft pop, halting the intense suctions for now. his eyes sparkle with curiosity and hunger, seeing you laid out on the bed with your cheeks flushed, mouth hung agape from moaning so much just does something to his fucked up brain. he wastes no time capturing a nipple into his mouth and giving a hard suck, groaning when your milk hits his tastebuds. it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted…
♡ ┆ he kneads at your tit, trying to coax more and more milk out of you as your cow ears flicker atop your head. needless to say, he’s getting off on your moans, the taste of your creaminess, and the softness of your chest… he loves it. all of this, it’s only for him and him alone. he laminates your nipple with spit using his tongue, moaning as he drinks up every last drop. keeping a hand on your pussy, he gently bites down, making you yelp, yet he also felt your cunt twitch at the action… that gives him an idea for later. he shows love to your other breast, licking up all of the milk that had been dripping off to the side as his fingers rub at your pussy, the slick sounds making his head spin. his breaths are heavy and erratic as it fans over your exposed skin, adding a layer of eroticism from his desperation being conveyed this way.
♡ ┆ finally… the moment he’d been waiting for. he releases his mouth and cups both of your heavy breasts, pressing them close together and sucking on both your nipples at the same time. wow… just like in his hentai mangas. the sensation makes you feel embarrassed, but you can’t deny how good it feels, either… as his fingers dig into your plush, large chest, he suckles, licks, and bites, doing anything to get more milk into his mouth again. some of it drips in between your chest, and it gives him a devious idea…
♡ ┆ he retreats for now, taking a finger to swipe up a drop of milk on his chin and lick it, a crazed hunger in his green eyes. he pulls down his pants and boxers… out comes his cock, blushed at the tip and leaky with pre-cum. “darling… would you be willing to hold up your chest for me, please?” he asks in a sweet voice, and you comply without question. you already knew what he was planning without him having to outright say it.
♡ ┆ he holds the sides of your breasts securely and moves up on the bed, positioning himself under your chest. you feel something hard underneath your boobs… and without further ado, Kylar thrusts his cock in. he moans so loud, breathing sooo heavily as he pistons his hips… he’s just in pure disbelief. the milk that had dripped between your chest earlier aids him in creating a slick passage between your pillowy tits. it takes him all his willpower to not immediately cum… which he inevitably fails. his cock splatters all over your chest, and a little bit gets on your face. “ah…!! i-oh no, i’m so sorry… i couldn’t help it, it just felt too good…” he pouts with a voice whinier than usual. you reassure him that it’s more than okay with a sultry smile, and you collect his cum with your fingers, licking it all up.
♡ ┆ the sight of you doing that of your own volition without him even asking to… grrr he’s going feral! and he realized you hadn’t cum once! that just won’t do. so while waiting for his cock to stiffen up again, he pulls out and lowers himself back down and thrusts a finger into your dripping entrance. he gets off on the sound of your moans, and he reaches down to take a nipple into his mouth again, the dual sensation of kylar’s suction and his finger curling inside you driving you mad. he establishes a rhythm with both actions, and it’s not long before he adds another finger into you, the squelching noises from your naughty pussy tempting him making his cock twitch back to life very quickly. as your inner walls tighten around his fingers, he searches desperately for your sweet spot while feverishly lapping up any milk from your breasts. and finally… he finds that one gummy mass inside you and just absolutely goes to town on it, making you cry out loudly. he reluctantly detached himself from your tit, and as his fingers were pressing down on your sweet spot, he held his hand firmly over your pubic mound, pressing down and quickening the pace of his fingers going in and out of you. it’s not long before you scream his name and cum on his fingers, soaking his hand in your precious nectar… not to mention your chest flowing with milk as well.
♡ ┆ he’s now hard again… and you take a moment to catch your breath. he’s too impatient this time, however, he wants to thrust into you now. you feel his cock press against your overly sensitive entrance but you manage to gently push him down onto the bed to take control of the situation. “ah ah ah. not so fast. just came, ya horndog.” you tease lightly, while kylar groans and pouts. you reach down and press a kiss to his lips, your tongues meeting each other once again as they get entangled. you taste a hint of your own milk. kylar can feel your breasts pressing up against him, the weight making him get more needy and feverish with his kissing. his breath hitches when you start grinding your cunt onto him, tip of his cock leaking with cum onto his tummy as your pussy presses down on it. your hips buck back and forth on top of him as you take control, allowing yourself to rest while keeping kylar sated.
♡ ┆ when you’re finally ready to have sex, you teasingly bounce your cunt on the tip of his cock, and you see tears in his eyes. “pc- my love, come, on, let me in, pleasepleaseplease- ah!!”
his babbling is interrupted by you finally giving him what he wants. as your velvety walls sink down onto him, threatening to overwhelm his senses, you press your breasts onto his face. “you know what to do.” you say with a flirtatious smirk. kylar immediately gets the memo, he’s been dying to do this since you first saved him. he latches onto your nipples and tugs down at your breasts while you start bouncing your pussy on his cock, the dual sensations driving you both mad.
♡ ┆ you’re expertly riding him as he whimpers helplessly beneath you, humping into him so hard the headboard slams into the wall from your passion. his mouth is overflowing with your milk like he wanted… his brain is just melting, much to your delight. your cow tail swishes behind you playfully as he grabs your plush hips and thrusts up into your movements, the sounds of your moans and wet slapping reverberating in the room.
♡ ┆ the warmth and softness of your cunt makes him wanna cum again. poor boy… he was never good at lasting long. “kylar, hold yourself back right now or else i’m pulling myself off.” you tease, but he takes that to heart and whines in disappointment. “i’ll be good… i’ll be good, pc, i promise, just please dont, ah… leave me!” you smile at him. “i’m not leaving you dummy, ever.”
neuron activation time……. his eyes widen in disbelief as affection floods his heart. he grips your hips more firmly, thrusting up into you at such an animalistic pace that the poorly constructed bed almost sounds like it'll break. the plush of your ass bounces back on his lap, and it makes him grit his teeth trying to hold back. he has a fire in his eyes, as if his life’s whole purpose now was to make you cum on his cock. he bites down on a nipple like earlier and feels your cunt clench around him. he alternates between bites and hard sucks as his hips thrust desperately upward while you struggle to keep riding him. “that’s a promise, okay? dont! ever! leave! me!” he punctuates each word with a thrust deep into your womb, hell-bent on breeding you.
♡ ┆ it’s not long before stars crowd around your eyes as you two climax together with your own loud moans, his semen flooding the depths of your warmth while your own cum coats his cock and drips down to his balls. your milk drips down your breasts again, and even though kylar is weak, he still manages to find it in himself to lick it up. as you catch your breaths, you two giggle conspiratorially, pressing your foreheads together and exchanging words of pure love and affection for one another… right before going back in for another round. you two rented out this room for an extended period of time, after all.
♡ ┆ now kylar takes whatever opportunity he can to bite and suck on your precious chest, pulling you in school closets or dark alleyways just so he can have a taste of your milk.
♡ ┆ ofc it’s not long until you both rent out a room at the hotel again, you going along with one of his crazy hentai recreations. it ends up with him on your lap and you, jerking off his sensitive cock, rubbing his pre-cum all over his shaft as he has his fill of your milk.
#saccha.txt#degrees of lewdity#dol#dol kylar#kylar the loner#kylar the loner x reader#dol kylar x reader#cow tf! reader
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final round (part 1)
☆ pairing: eren x afab!reader
☆ summary: you have a very important interview coming up that basically dictates whether or not you have a job after college. and you're sure you're gonna ace it...as long as your arch-nemesis doesn't have anything to do with the interview...
☆ warnings: 18+, not nsfw in this part but has suggestive themes, former TA/student relationship, eren is kinda mean to you (but you're kind of mean to eren), a hint of power dynamics
☆ a/n: hiiiii my very first blurb on this site ~ yes this is my brain rot from trying to find a new job. also should i do a part 2? i kinda did this to tease the relationship a bit bc i didn't want my very first thing to be smut haha o(≧▽≦)o
you hear a ping from your laptop indicating a new email. you read the subject line:
Paradis Labs, Inc Final Interview - Next Steps
you couldn't believe your eyes. your dream company wanted to interview you for their final round and suddenly, you weren't able to even focus on hearing about your best friend sasha's latest hookup at delta phi last weekend.
"hey y/n? you listening? he took me to pound town and back...what's more important than this?" sasha inquired, snapping her fingers in front of your face.
"uhh..i got into the final round interview for paradis labs! AH!" you squealed.
sasha remained seated but elated. "i'm not the least bit surprised. you're the smartest, hottest girl i know after all", she winked. "but wait... doesn't you know who work there now after he graduated..." she trailed off, not wanting to illicit any alarm bells off of you.
you groaned, thinking about you know who. you knew him unfortunately very well in the worst way possible. the guy who was your TA last semester and absolutely crushed you while grading your midterms and finals. not only did he never answer any of your questions during class, he actively ignored you? and would only talk to some sleazy girls he was planning to hit on after the class ended. he had berated your final project, purposefully skipped over you on the waitlist queue multiple times during office hours, and you could've sworn he gave you the wrong advice once on a lab.
eren fucking jaeger.
you groaned just even thinking his godforsaken name out loud. "it's okay sash, paradis labs is like one of the largest companies in the nation. the odds of you know who being my interview is basically slim to none." you surmised unsuspectingly. you always had a way of attracting the worst luck, but you couldn't bear to entertain that for even a second.
~ two weeks later ~
okay, you got this. you've been studying for this final round nonstop for the last two weeks, you thought to yourself as you rode the bus to the elusive paradis lab headquarters. you've turned down every party, every study session, every potential "date" sasha tried to set you up with for this one interview. and you felt great about it.
you arrived at the headquarters 30 minutes early, thanks to your fear of being late, and you started to feel your stomach growling, clearly indicating that the glass of orange juice you chugged before you left was not enough. the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit your nostrils, and you found yourself at the paradis cafe at the lobby of the building you were interviewing at. you ordered your coffee and pastry, but as you're waited, you heard a distant, yet familiar voice in the background. you dared not turn behind you, because you knew if you saw him, your day was fucking over. you know exactly who it was. hell, you could recognize that laugh in a room full of people, easily.
ignoring the mild annoyance, you looked at your watch and started getting anxious. you grew increasingly annoyed and worried about bumping into you know who, and you just wanted to grab your stupid coffee and go upstairs and get this interview over with.
"one iced matcha latte with oatmilk for y/n!" the barista chirped, as you dashed to the front to grab the order. you heard the familiar laughter die down, but as you turned around to beeline to the elevator, someone's torso knocked you out and you spilled your iced matcha all over your freshly dry cleaned blouse and someone else's shirt.
"oh my god, i'm SO sor-", you stopped cold. wait, no. it's not just anyone's shirt i spilled coffee on. no it can't be-
"hey, doofus", eren glared. you detected a hint of playful mischief in his dark eyes, but it went away almost immediately. were his eyes always so mesmerizing? stop, what the fuck, don't think that! "always makin' a fuckin' mess, are we?"
you rolled your eyes. this could not be happening to you. matcha stained blouse, and you were hungry, and the worst person you knew was here. "fuck off, asshat", you retorted. "i literally have a meeting in 10 minutes and i look like a fucking idiot because of you."
"for what it's worth, you always looked like a fucking idiot." eren said.
you flipped him off before you beelined to the elevator, aiming to head to the change room immediately. you didn't have an extra blouse, but you were wearing a sleeveless black shirt underneath, which hid the stain well but it was a bit tight. even you had to admit your boobs looked amazing in it. tucking it into your loose grey slacks, you stepped outside the washroom and composed yourself. your interview was in 3 minutes, but you could do this. you knew you can. you passed eren's class last year, and that was with his ass constantly throwing you curveballs. this was nothing.
you entered the waiting room for the interview, waiting your name to be called in. shortly, a dark haired man wearing a white shirt and black slacks called you in. "y/n? there you are." he said nonchalantly as his narrowed in on you. "come into my office, please." as you walked next to him, you realized he's way shorter than he looked from across the waiting room.
"i'm levi, and i'll be conducting your interview today. please take a seat." he motioned to the chair across his table.
"hi levi. i'm y/n. i just want to say that i am so grateful to have had this opportunity to come onsite and be interviewed by some of the most magnificent minds of our-" you're interrupted by a loud phone call coming from levi's desk.
"i apologize miss y/l/n. let me just quickly answer that. they should know i'm in the middle of interviewing candidates..." he said, sounding slightly annoyed by the phone call.
he answered it, and you heard him groan and say "i'll be right there. send him to my office to take over." he looked over at you, partially annoyed and partially apologetic about the fuss happening. "i apologize. some brat fucked up the program we were releasing today, and now i have to clean up some one's mess." he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. you thought you heard him say that he's going to fire the brat at the end of the say.
"someone else will be coming to conduct the interview, but don't worry. he can be a bit much, but he's unfortunately one of our best recent hires in a while. i'm sure you'll be in good hands." levi said, before he grabbed his stuff and headed to the work emergency.
you were left a bit confused, but ultimately grateful that you had more time to calm yourself down after what happened in front of the cafe. out of all the people who work here, why did you have to run into him. you just can't catch a fucking break can you? you thought to yourself.
as if right on cue, levi's office door opened, and your thoughts were interrupted by the person who once again, occupied an unnecessary amount of thoughts in your head. your jaw dropped, and you practically had to stop yourself from yelling at the universe for this sick, cruel twist of fate that destiny was putting you through.
eren fucking jaeger.
you heard him chuckle deeply. "oh, this is going to be so much fun." eren smirked, his eyes staring at you deeply. he looked at you up and down, and suddenly, you really wished you hadn't taken off your blouse in the changing room, feeling suddenly exposed in this tiny hot (hot? when did this office get hot?) office.
you took a deep shaky breath and buried your head in your hands, groaning and letting out all of the bad emotions you were holding in. "eren, if you're just going to flunk me on this interview, just tell me right now. i'll go home and we'll both just move on." you pleaded. what else can you even do at this point? you should've known this interview was over the minute you heard his stupid laugh in the cafe.
"woah there, slow down doof," he said teasingly. he moved in front of you, partially sitting on levi's (quite expensive) mahogany desk. "you can't just leave an interview before it even started. and who said i was gonna flunk you on this? do you reaaaally think i'd do something like that?"
"umm, you literally did! last year on my midterm, stupid", you yelled exasperated. you were trying hard to keep your cool and calm disposition, but eren always loved to test your limits.
eren pretended to think about it for a second before he shook his head. "nope, doesn't ring a bell. anyway, first question of this interview: why do you want to work at paradis labs?" he asked.
"well, if you must know, i-", you started, before being interrupted by eren.
"i actually don't care. i don't know why anyone asks that." eren laughed, eyes skimming over the files on levi's desk. oh, you could slap him right now. your patience was wearing thin. "hm, well look at this here. your resume says you took a chemical engineering lab last year with professor zeke.?" he asked, knowing damn well the answer was yes. he tried to hold back the smile he had while he watched you visibly tighten up at the sound of the class. "care to tell me about that?"
"not really since you were my TA for that class and went out of your way to almost fail me." you retorted back, fuming at what was happening. no way was he trying to bring this shit up in the middle of an interview. but you were not backing down from this fight. it had been a long time coming. i'm not getting the job anyway at this point. might as well go out cursing eren while i'm at it, you thought to yourself.
"god, i don't know why you think that," he mused teasingly. "if anything, i helped make sure the other stricter TAs didn't grade your work. i dunno where you're getting this idea i hated you." he shrugged. you could swear he almost sounded...honest while saying the last part.
"oh wow, you're really too kind," you said sarcastically as you rolled your eyes. where does this guy get off?
"no, really y/n. i'm being serious," eren said earnestly. a slight genuine smile formed on his lips.
wait, is he? also, why is his smile so...cute? no, stop it, y/n! compose yourself! you quickly snapped out of your thoughts.
"you also ignored me every single time i came to your office hours and every time i came to your lab for help. you literally helped every single girl but me", you accused. you didn't mean to sound harsh and annoyed, but deep down, you felt your chest tighten up and you didn't know why. who cares if he helped other girls, he hates your guts anyway. why were you feeling so sour about it?
"don't give me that shit. i didn't help you because you were the cutest girl in lab and i couldn't make it seem like i was being inappropriate." he said without skipping a beat. eren wasn't sure what made him say it, but it was true.
your eyes snapped to him, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you momentarily forgot what you were even doing here as your head felt dizzy all of sudden. no way you just heard what you thought you heard. you jaw fell and you were at a loss of words to respond. "i...uhh...well.." cough. "um, o-o-okay..." you trailed off, desperate to find the words to respond to eren. you thought back to your class lat year with eren. was he ever really that mean to you? or were you just a bit desperate to do well in an important class? no, wait, he's just being asshole.
"well, if you liked me so much why did you hook up with those sorority girls after the semester ended?" you said incredulously. this was some big fucking joke and you were not going to lose this game.
"oh c'mon, y/n. don't act like you never had a one night stand before." eren explained, his voice lacking any hint of teasing or malice. "besides, you were the only one on my mind, anyway...", eren whispered under his breath so lowly that you weren't able to make out what he said.
well, actually, you haven't ever had a one night stand like that. in fact you never actually...had sex with anyone before. you've always been too focused in school to really date around, and the most action you've gotten was hearing about sasha's escapades. and you sure as hell weren't going to let eren know that.
"umm...well...", you said as you flustered your words. you took a bit too long to compose yourself and respond, which was all eren needed to connect the dots.
"oh shit. y/n...are you a virgin?"
"u-umm...of course not...i-i just...i just never found...or had the time...", you dropped your gaze. that's it, eren had just found his trump card, after he played the cruelest joke on you. you couldn't even think of a witty one liner like you usually did to get out of something like this. you were tired and shocked by eren's confession (which you didn't even believe fully). and not only that, but you were talking about your v-card with your worst enemy.
"hey, hey, hey, it's okay. i'm sorry, y/n. i shouldn't have brought it up, that was weird. and...", eren trailed off. he wasn't sure what to say next, but he said it earnestly and honestly. "i'm sorry for treating you like shit when i was your TA, and i'm sorry for bumping into you and spilling your matcha all over us," even though eren would've done it again if it meant he could see you in the form fitting top you currently have on, but he dared not to comment on that.
you sighed, partially out of relief and partially because you felt vindicated through his apology. your eyes glanced up to his, and both of your gazes softened. "so, you really do like me?" you teased eren, finally cracking a slight playful smile and releasing the tension in the atmosphere.
"shut the fuck up and don't make me say it again, doofus." eren mumbled, as he leaned closer into you. your heart started beating faster and you swear even eren could hear the pounding in your chest as you sucked in a deep shaky breath. you didn't mean to break eren's gaze and look at his lips, but you did and eren noticed. his smile curved up slightly as he leaned closer to you. you felt his hot breath near you lips, and just as his lips were about to crash into yours, the door bursted open to a slightly disheveled levi.
eren immediately snapped back to leaning on levi's desk, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. you prayed that levi could not see how flushed you looked or the goosebumps on your arm.
"how did the interview go?" levi asked eren.
eren gave a quick warm glance to you before he said, "y/n did great. answered every question with ease. i think we should extend an offer." you noticed the slightest hint of a smile in eren's professional demeanor, but you were more surprised that he'd do this for you. bit by bit, you felt your hard shell crumbling for eren, and you wondered how you will survive working at paradis labs after graduating.
eren walked you back to the elevator, his hand lightly touching the small of your back as guided you across the hallway. "well, i guess i look forward to working with you and picking back up where we started." eren said with a wink.
you turned around and touched eren's shirt, softly tracing the matcha stain you gave him. "hm, maybe i'll start off my first day dumping coffee on you first thing in the morning." you playfully teased, your breath accidentally hitching as you realized his chest was way harder than you expected it to be. oh my god, no way he's actually built under the shirt. embarrassed, you quickly buried that thought deep where it came from.
"hm, maybe i'll take you to the bathroom and make you help me clean it up," he replied, his eyes filled with warmth and invitation. something that was new to you, but you weren't complaining.
god, you couldn't wait to graduate.
#attack on titan#aot#snk#shingeki no kyojin#eren x reader#eren yeager#eren jaeger#eren x y/n#eren jeager x reader#eren aot#eren yaeger x reader#eren yaeger aot
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the inevitable 𖤐 part five
woodsboro would soon be a distant memory - but some things would make it hard to forget.
pairing: billy loomis x fem!reader
word count: 7.4k (holy shit i am so sorry)
tags/warnings: strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers, smut (eventually), angst, slow burn (heavy on this), cursing, alcohol and marijuana, make out scene who cheered!, probably others i'm forgetting.
a/n: clearly i got a little carried away with this part... it's the longest one to date. i hope that's not a bad thing. not 100% edited bc i promised i would post today. enjoy!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
masterlist
“I’m sorry, he actually said enchanting?”
Tatum stifles her laughter to avoid any of her soda passing through her nose. That, and to avoid any more stares from the old woman who’d been glaring at Tatum over her less-than-modest plaid skirt. You nod, scrunching your nose up at the memory.
Your outing with Tatum has, so far, been spent filling her in on your entire Billy situation. It was prompted by her asking why, and you quote, “rat-boy,” was so hellbent on the group knowing in the first place, seeing as you’d only formally known each other for a few weeks. In the spirit of having no more secrets, you gladly answered her question.
You started from the very beginning: how a seemingly innocent conversation about red wine versus white turned into a quick trip to the garage that ended in telling him your plans to move. If Tatum thought the garage incident was hilarious, she was sure to piss herself when you told her about him coming to your window.
“Wait for it; it gets much worse.” You laugh along with her and take another bite of the pretzel you were sharing, wiping cinnamon sugar dust off on a useless paper napkin. “So then a week later, I’m writing my paper and hear something outside. I’m thinking it’s a small animal or something, but no. Guess what?” You pause for dramatic effect, Tatum raising an eyebrow and waiting expectantly. A few seconds go by before her hand smacks on the table and she gasps.
“Shut up!” The old woman next to you grunts and picks up her belongings, clearly fed up with your friend’s dramatic reactions. Tatum doesn’t care, and neither do you. If people looked at you and saw two high school seniors behaving like they were spilling middle school gossip, you couldn’t care less. You’d been waiting for more moments like these with her, and you’d be damned if you let a stranger spoil it with just a dirty look.
Tatum lowers her voice and leans in closer to you. “Shut up. He came to your house. Through your window?”She confirms with you, and you nod with your nose scrunched up.
“And I actually let him in, which is the even crazier part. But I talked to him—like, actually talked to him, Tatum. And he wasn’t that unbearable. Then, for whatever reason, he just flipped a switch.” You run a hand through your hair and push the pretzel towards her. Thinking about it all was taking away your sweet tooth.
What confused you the most about Billy Loomis is why, all of a sudden, he made fucking with your circle a personal mission. You racked your brain, thinking perhaps you had offended him by accident and didn’t realize it. You’d been doing that over and over again, coming up empty each time. Tatum knew him much better than you did and had a different angle, seeing as her boyfriend was the boy’s best friend.
“I think Billy is just a shithead and likes to get under people’s skin. He’s really good at it,” she offers. You already had the opportunity to learn that the hard way. “So what happened after you guys talked? Did you throw him out on his ass?” She asks with a giggle, getting a kick out of the mental image of you grabbing him by his hair and tossing him out of the window. A bit morbid, but a girl could dream.
You hesitate to answer. It’s not that you wanted to lie again; god no, that was the last thing you wanted to do. But something about telling another soul about the tension and the bubbling desire you’d been feeling in your gut since meeting him? It felt eerily similar to the reason you took so long to tell Tatum about leaving; it would make it real. You were perfectly content living in denial for as long as it took, even if that was up until the moment the moving van drove away.
You don’t answer, and Tatum kicks your leg lightly under the table. “Hello?’ She draws it out, waving her hand in the air. “What, did you guys make out or something?”
“No!” You shout immediately—defensively and hopefully convincingly. A few more people turn to look due to your quick outburst. “He got all... angry? Called me ungrateful and said I needed to wrap up my pity party. So I called him an asshole, and then..." You trail off at the memory. He taunts you, his lips now ghosting over your temple and his slim fingers resting on your hip. Through the thin, unreliable material of your t-shirt, you could feel him tracing circles.
“And then what?! You’re killing me here.” Tatum is growing more impatient by the second, like she’s heard the juiciest rumor about her favorite celebrity on TV, and suddenly the signal goes out. You look at her with uncertainty. Truthfully, you weren’t even entirely sure what had happened yourself. “I swear to god if you don’t spill.”
“And then it got weird,” you continue. Tatum doesn’t speak for you to know she’s asking how it got weird. “He got really close to me, like he was going to kiss me. And then he just didn’t? He said I should finish my paper and said my secret wouldn’t last much longer. Then the party happened, and he tried to give me a ride to school this morning. Well, I accepted the ride only ‘cause I would’ve been late and—“
“Whoa, we aren’t going to just skip that part. You guys almost kissed?!” Your best friend was crazed by all of this. Finding out you were moving, that Billy had it out for you, and that he had made a half-move on you all in one day was a bit much, even for her. She had absolutely zero interest in your ride to school this morning. Besides, she would be reinstating herself as your chaffeur starting tomorrow anyway.
"It was just weird and tense; nothing crazy happened. But it was definitely something. I just don’t know what his angle is.” You shrugged the entire thought away, entertaining it felt distasteful.
Admittedly, you hadn’t reached the point of being repulsed by him. The Billy you’d met a month ago was lingering in every crevice of your brain. Even the Billy that appeared in your bedroom seemed more kind, more palatable in some sense. Billy had proven thus far to be, if nothing else, a complete wildcard. You weren’t sure which Billy you would get on any given day. One day he is mocking you in your bedroom; the next he’s embarrassing you; and after that, he’s offering to bring you to school.
It was all too confusing, and your mind being seemingly detached from your body was not helping. The manner in which he could keep you frozen in place with a single look, your eyes the only part of your body able to move. Tracing over his stature, his lips, and his hands. It was positively disturbing. Now it had happened not once but twice, and everyone knows what they say about the third time.
"It sounds like he wants to see if he can get the library girl to open up more than her books." Tatum giggles and finishes off the sugary snack, crumpling up the paper to toss into the trash later. You don't respond; you're still fantasizing about the night in your room. Even when he wasn't in proximity he was able to throw your focus. What you fail to notice is Tatum's dawn of realization—the revelation that occurs while you're daydreaming.
"Oh my fucking god, you want to screw him!" She says it accusingly, pointing a finger at you. This is definitely enough to catch your attention. Your mouth is agape, but nothing comes out in your defense. After stuttering a few times, you manage to say something; however, it doesn't remedy much.
"Tatum, I don't want to screw him! He's horrible. Abhorrent, even." You throw in a big word in an attempt to throw her off your scent. Tatum knows you. She's known every guy you've thought to be remotely cute based on how you look at them. You never made a move on anyone the entire time you'd been in town. Partly because you preferred to avoid any serious attachments and strife when you eventually moved, but also because boys just weren't something you prioritized.
"You're basically drooling just thinking about it. God, no wonder there's so much tension." Tatum is enjoying every second of this. Maybe a small part of her is doing it on purpose, just as a little payback for what happened. Your willingness to talk to her about it, despite how humiliating it was for you, didn't go unnoticed. What killed you was how on the nose she was. It felt good to have your best friend in the loop on what would likely be your first and last real boy problem until the end of the school year.
"Ugh, you're right." You confess, unable to even laugh. Instead, you grab the hair at the top of your head and rest your face on your palms. "What do I do, Tatum?" You ask for guidance; your voice muffled. First you hear the slurping of the rest of her soda; she'd run through hers in record time.
"Just mess around; you're leaving soon anyway. He’s clearly into you, in his own bizarre, freakish way. What's the worst that could happen?" Tatum answers nonchalantly, and it earns an incredulous look from you. Tatum had personally ensured Billy was nowhere within five feet of you up until last month, and now she was encouraging you to sleep with the enemy?
"You're insane. I'm not going to mess around with him. He's an asshole; he has no respect, and he's made it clear he likes seeing me miserable.” You shake your head and lean back in your chair; one of the legs must be shorter than the rest because it's been rickety since you sat in it.
“True, but maybe he could like you? The only person who knows what Billy is thinking is Billy. Stu probably doesn't even know what happens in his bird brain." She offers an explanation, and you can't exactly disagree. You never knew what his motive was, and clearly, he kept his cards close to his chest.
"I know he's a dick; trust me," she continues. "And I'm definitely not a fan of him after what he pulled. But it's almost summer, and you've never even gone on a date with someone. Obviously, it's not a necessity, but you could probably benefit from a little something to take the edge off. You are a little bit uptight." Tatum's hands are clasped on the table as she tries to reason with you. Not only are you still in shock that she's suggesting this, but now you're surprised to find yourself agreeing.
Even so, there was still the matter of addressing his little stunt. Now that you and Tatum were fine, the next two things to take care of were, first, Randy, and secondly, the fucker that caused all of this in the first place.
"I can't believe you're telling me to screw around with Billy Loomis." You state, frankly, with a twinge of amusement donning your features.
"I can't believe you were already thinking about screwing around with Billy Loomis. You wear your thoughts on your face, by the way." Tatum smiles at you patronizingly, but you know it's with a light heart. You definitely had a lot to think about, but most of it needed to wait until after you tracked down Randy.
The squirrely one of the group was hardly ever taken seriously, but you knew that in this situation he needed to feel heard. He truly did see you as a sister. Whenever Stu would shoot down his ideas, you were always one step behind him, coming to his defense. You always said yes when he asked to hang out after school, mainly because he would go into a dramatic monologue about how much you hated him if you said otherwise.
Even though Tatum was your best friend, it was an unspoken feeling among all of you that Randy had somehow gotten the shittiest end of the stick. Randy was chaotic and, at times, unpredictable, but in a lot of ways, he was the one who bridged everyone together. You were positive that if Randy wasn't part of the group and hadn't pulled you from the library so many times, you wouldn't have gotten as close to Tatum. In the same beat, Randy was a simply guy. You knew an apology and a promise of grabbing food (on you, of course) would likely be enough. You still wanted to make it up to him.
With a clap, you stand up, ready to get out of the food court that was quickly starting to fill up with more people. The mall on a Monday afternoon was, believe it or not, one of the more entertaining places to go around town.
"No more Billy-talk; let's go. I need to find Randy." Tatum agrees quickly, standing up and tossing all of your trash in the bin before looking around in her bag for her car keys. Tatum agreed to stop by the video store on the way back and wait for you to talk to Randy. She assured you that he wasn’t angry, and noted that it wasn’t really in his nature to get angry anyways. That brought you much more comfort.
"For the record, fooling around when you're mad at someone is so much more fun. Why do you think I start fights with Stu so often?" Tatum twirls her car keys around her pointer finger and catches them in her palm. "Let's roll, Arizona," she says in a deep voice, earning a light smack on the arm from you.
You push Billy to the back of your mind for now, where he sits at any given moment lately. Perhaps Tatum was right, but if you were going to fool around with Billy Loomis, you were going to need to get your nerves in check.
Your talk with Randy was equal parts amusing and proactive. As Tatum informed you, Randy was nowhere near angry. Hurt, yes. Shocked, absolutely. But Randy, like your best friend, also knew that you couldn’t be an awful person if you tried. All of your self-hatred over the situation now felt slightly hilarious. You’d caught Randy at the beginning of his shift, luckily for you. That meant he wasn’t annoyed by people making, in his opinion, subpar movie choices just yet.
You’d given him a very similar spiel to the one you gave Tatum, filled with an obscene amount of “I’m sorry’s” and a very long hug. You had to remind him you weren’t leaving that night to get him to pull away. Nonetheless, it appeared that a lot of your worst fears were no cause for concern. Nobody (that you knew) hated you or would be cursing your name for the foreseeable future.
Randy did make it a point to really hammer that Windsor College was still taking applications despite the priority period ending already. He and Tatum had applied as soon as they opened, wishing to get as far away from Woodsboro as possible. Why it ended up being Ohio of all places you had no idea. Still, you rattled the idea around in your head. You figured it couldn’t hurt, but that was something you had to speak to your parents about.
The last you’d heard, your father was planning on taking a book deal that required him to live in New York in order to be close to the publishing company. Out-of-state tuition was likely going to be way too expensive, even with grants and scholarships. If you were able to convince him to agree on Ohio, you wouldn’t have to completely start over in the friend department.
Tuesday morning arrives, and for the first time since last Friday, you wake up without a weight on your chest. Your usual morning routine ensues, and it’s music to your ears when you hear the familiar horn of Tatum’s car outside your window. The ride to school felt even better today; after all, you didn’t have an impudent troll following you until you got into the car. Stu is taking up his usual spot in the passenger seat, his seatbelt evidently not on. Midway to school, he turns around, practically on his knees in the seat, which earns a reprimand from Tatum.
“So how are things with you and Randy? All better now?” He asks enthusiastically, a twinkle in his eye telling you he was probably asking because he wanted some juicy drama to laugh at.
“Yep, we’re all good. All is right in the world again, or whatever.” You nod once and keep your answer brief, refusing to give in to his wish. Your relationship with Stu was interesting, to say the least. You didn’t quite know him well, but his personality made it easy for you to take his banter in stride instead of taking it offensively.
“And what about things with Billy?” He asked immediately after, and Tatum slapped his shoulder quite harshly. You can see in the rear view that she is glaring at him. You scoff and direct your attention to her.
“You told him? Him of all people?! Tatum!” You lean forward and push Stu away by putting your hand over his face, staring at your best friend with a look of betrayal.
“He was gonna hear about it eventually; besides, he technically brought it up first!” She defends herself, pointing the finger at her boyfriend. You look between the two of them beyond confusion; what reason could Stu possibly have to bring up you and Billy? You raise both of your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to speak.
“You guys were like, eye-fucking each other on Friday. I didn’t know if I should feel awkward or kind of turned on,” he starts cackling as you start hitting him repeatedly.
“Don’t. Even. Go there!” You pause between each word, giving him a final slap on the top of his head. Stu was probably the least observant of everyone. If he and Billy were Dumb and Dumber, he was definitely the latter (which wasn’t saying much, really).
"Hey, fucking chill! I'm all for you getting some. A little weird it's from him, but maybe it'll fix that uptight attitude you've got going on," his words echo the ones his girlfriend had uttered to you less than twenty-four hours prior.
"Why do you guys think I'm uptight?!" You immediately shift into an even stronger defense mode, pleading frantically to the couple in the front seat for some kind of answer. You were no idiot; you had enough self-awareness to know that perhaps you could take your unyielding need for structure and order down a couple of notches.
Stu catches that you don't comment on 'getting some' from his best friend, and sticks his tongue out at you. "Arizona's fucking Billy!" He yells it as Tatum parks in her usual space, loud enough that if the windows were down people would have definitely heard it.
"Leave her alone! They haven't screwed yet." Tatum speaks up finally; although not to as much of your benefit as you would've appreciated. She puts the car in park and you jump at the opportunity to get out before you strangle Stu for his teasing. You scowl at the 6'4 child next to you and he, as usual, ignores your silent protest.
"Don't worry, Stu has to be on your side because I'm on your side. That means no Billy tomorrow night, right babe?" She looks up at him to confirm, but you can tell she's shooting daggers at him; compelling him to provide the answer she was looking at again.
"What's going on tomorrow night?" You ask. Hopefully it was nothing involving as much alcohol as the last time you spent time with them.
"Movie night, Randy insists there's a movie we need to watch that can't wait until the weekend. Billy will not be there." Tatum's chin turns up and she smacks Stu's chest. He feigns discomfort but she quickly provides him with a swift kiss.
"No Billy," you repeat. Relief washes over you. The unavoidable confrontation with him that had been plaguing you could be put off for one more day. The three of you split up to go to your respective classes, and you can only hope that Stu makes good on his word and keeps Billy as far away from you as possible.
———
Stu, surprisingly, keeps his promise. In fact, Billy was nowhere to be seen all day at school yesterday. Today he'd passed by you in the hallway, but he was too invested in whatever conversation he was having to notice you, or he chose to ignore you. Either way, you were content. Stu welcomes you inside, clearly prepared to drink the night away in his signature red 'party robe.' You didn't plan on drinking copiously; after all, it was still a weekday. However, the memories of the last time you were in Stu's living room began creeping up on you as soon as you walked inside.
Nobody brought up last Friday, which you were grateful for. But if you were going to relax enough to enjoy your night, at least one drink was necessary. To avoid falling into the cycle of running through beers all night, you instead asked Stu for a shot of tequila from his parents' liquor cabinet. It was hot and stung your throat as you forced it down, but the warmth that filled your chest afterwards was well worth it. That, and the soda you'd downed immediately after, helped with the foul taste. Everyone else indulged in a shot of well, most of them chasing it with their first beer of the night.
You were comfortable in the same place you were the first time you'd come to Stu's house. It seemed like so long ago. The season had already changed to summer since you'd made small talk about wine with the boy, who would soon become something close to your only adversary. Tatum and Stu were already settled in their places while Randy fiddled with the VHS player, a sight you'd become used to.
The tape's sleeve tossed haphazardly on the small table read Hellraiser IV: Bloodline, and you kept your complaints to yourself. You didn't plan on spoiling Randy's enthusiasm for the remainder of your time in town. You just really did not like horror movies, good or bad. Randy performs his regular pre-movie sermon, this time complete with a full run-down of how the original director had bowed out due to "artistic differences" and that a lot of the characters' fates had been rewritten. You couldn't help but inaudibly laugh at the irony. Oh, how you wish for your fate to be rewritten.
You actually try to focus on the movie, despite the faint buzz you can feel between your ears from the tequila. A group of guards are attempting to break down the door in order to take Dr. Paul Merchant when loud knocks at the front door scare all of you.
"Jesus, fuck!" Stu yells and groans loudly, hopping up over the back of the couch. Your attention briefly wanders to the entrance, but the front door is out of sight from where you're sitting. You don't hear much and assume Stu is coming back any second.
A few minutes go by without Stu's return, but Randy and Tatum are too captivated by the movie to notice. You get up quietly to avoid any other unexpected scares, going through the open archway until you can see the front door. Stu's towering height is hiding whatever he was looking at.
"You can't be serious, Stu," you hear a voice whisper. Whoever he was looking at. Stu senses you behind him and quickly turns to look over his shoulder, revealing none other than Billy fucking Loomis. Of course, he would be here right now.
Upon seeing you, Billy attempts to step inside through the small gap. "Just - there you are. Arizona, can I please talk to you?"
Stu puts his leg out to block his path, his hands clasped together, while his eyes flash between the two of you. It would be a lie to say Stu wasn't finding this a thousand times more entertaining than the movie.
"What could you possibly have to say to me that I would care about?" You respond boldly, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him, like you were suggesting a challenge. You should drink tequila more often. Billy's lips stay pressed together, and you can tell by the slight twitch of the corner that your reply was both unexpected and unappreciated.
Stu knows his friend far too well and quickly interjects. "How about you guys go talk in my room?" He suggests it, more-so an attempt to beg Billy not to make a scene. Stu is smiling, but it’s strained. Billy was not used to hearing any form of 'no,' and the last thing Stu needed was Tatum yelling at him for Billy showing up unannounced. You glance over at the living room, both of them completely unaware of what was happening in the foyer.
“I’d rather rot than listen to anything that comes out of your mouth.”
With that, you turn on your heels and walk straight back to the kitchen. Luckily, your arms were crossed to hide your shaking hands from his view. They are just still enough to pour yourself another shot of tequila, and you drink it without a chaser this time. You shake your head first, then your shoulders, and end with your arms in an attempt to get your body to relax. You desperately need to calm down and carry on with the rest of the evening as you intended—Billy free.
You return to your spot just as Stu reenters the living room, and trailing not too far behind him is Billy. So much for him not being here tonight. Tatum finally looks over when Stu sits down next to her, and her jaw drops while she follows Billy with her eyes.
“Really?! I told you not to invite him!” She whispers harshly, making no effort to keep it a secret that he wasn’t exactly wanted. Billy doesn’t bat an eye; he just sits on the floor furthest away from you, right by the arm of the sofa Tatum and Stu were occupying.
“He just showed up. What was I supposed to do?” Stu whispers back, throwing his hands up defensively. “Just watch the movie; who cares?” He mutters, avoiding looking in your direction. You and Tatum both roll your eyes, settling more into your respective places as you attempt to focus on the movie again.
It’s not much longer before Duc de L’Isle is summoning the demon princess, Angelique, into a woman’s body. Even with the movie accelerating, you’re processing none of it. The small television doesn’t give off enough light for you to see everyone, but it does cast the perfect amount of illumination on Billy. The movie progresses without your attention, and even with Randy’s animated reactions, Tatum’s commentary, and Stu’s childish (and inappropriate) jokes, you have no reaction. You feel as though you’re watching yourself from the other side of the room, desperately trying to look uninterested enough to avoid any attention coming your way.
You and Billy are playing the same game. From his spot on his floor, you are just in his peripheral vision. He can make out that you're sitting with your knees to your chest, but he can't see your face clearly without making it obvious he was looking. He is actively fighting every urge to steal a quick glance at you, truly hoping to find you looking right back. Every so often, he adjusts, the hard floor starting to be a literal pain in his ass. Each time, he manages to look at you for what feels like half a second.
Thirty minutes later, your couple of shots of tequila are starting to wear off, making you painfully paranoid about a certain someone. Just as you'd done before, you get up quietly and pad over to the kitchen. The tequila bottle is sitting in the same place you'd left it, your empty shot glass by its side. You sigh softly, taking the top off and pouring another to the brim this time. You quickly scan the counter for something to chase it with, but all the sodas are empty. You take a few steps to the fridge and pull it open, bending over to look for something. You spot a lone can of root beer in the back and grab it.
When you turn back around, another lanky figure is waiting for you. You gasp instantly, and the root beer falls from your hand. Nobody in the living room stirs at the disruption; the movie is too loud.
"Jesus fucking Christ," you begin, your mouth immediately snapping shut as your brain catches up to your body.
"No, just me." Billy gives you a placid smile. You don't say anything in response, stepping around him. You make it a point to hit his shoulder.
"Fair, I deserve that." He nods in understanding, hands clasped behind his back. You deserve a hell of a lot more than a shoulder-check, you think to yourself.
The can opening fills the space Billy expects you to take up with a response. He watches you intently, chin turned down, while you chuck back the shot and follow it up with root beer. You do your best not to show it on your face.
"Arizona, I'm just trying to apologize," he begins, taking a step towards you. Immediately, you fall back and hold your hand up between the two of you.
"Like last time? I'm not interested in hearing it." You snip back at him. "Why can't you get the hint that I don't want to listen to your fake sympathy? And I sure as hell don't need to be reprimanded by someone like you." You keep your voice low enough to keep this conversation as private as possible. The last thing you want is another confrontation like last time.
He stays silent and stares at you, his face falling just enough for you to notice. It's clear he fully expected his ambush to work, but there was no way you would go through this again. Not if you could help it. His nostrils flare so fast you almost miss it, but what you do miss is how fast his hand is wrapped around your elbow. You begin to protest and try to yank it out of his grasp, but Billy is intent on getting you upstairs. You both struggle up the stairs, and you are nudged into a bedroom with gaudy blue and red plaid sheets. The door is almost slammed behind you as Billy stands in front of it.
"What the hell is your problem?!" He demands an answer, and you laugh incredulously.
"Are you serious? What part of I don't want to talk to you do you not understand?" You attempt to leave the room, but he intervenes by stepping over to the left. You huff and try the other side, but he mimics you.
“I rarely apologize, you should feel grateful. Are you that goddamn stubborn?" His height is an advantage in this situation, and he uses it to make you step backwards towards the bed.
"Do I need to remind you that this entire thing is your fault?You are always so out of line; you just can't help yourself, can you?" Days of pent-up anger at the boy in front of you bubbled up to the surface. Your fists are clenched by your side, something Billy finds quite endearing. You were right; he couldn't help himself. It was too easy to get you this way: defensive, riled up, with a spunk nobody else in the group had seen except for him. He knew it was in there somewhere; he just didn't expect to find your buttons so quickly.
"What did you say earlier?" He cocks his head to the side, and his forehead creases. A beat passes, and he snaps his fingers. "That's right, you'd rather rot than talk to me. Rot, Arizona. Bit harsh, isn't it?" He speaks evenly, his words laced with condescension.
"I meant it, and I still mean it," you confirm. "You had no right to do what you did."
"Oh, I know that. For the record, I am very sorry about how it all happened," he says, rocking back on his heels a couple times. You allow his words to go in one ear and out of the other.
"But if I hadn't, you wouldn't have told them. You and Tatum seem like two peas in a pod again, so was it that horrible?" His hands are held out, palms facing up as if to say, see? It all worked out.
It takes a moment for you to decide if you want to even entertain this.
"That's... Billy, that's not the point. It turned out okay, but it's the principle of the situation." You are too exhausted by the subject to continue holding your ground.
"Girls and their principles," he chuckles. You raise your eyebrows and shake your head once, about to really force your way out, but Billy tries to dial it back.
"It's a joke, Arizona. Relax. I really am sorry. I was a dick that night, and I would probably be one again. But everything is fine now." This boy needs an extensive course on the art of a meaningful apology.
You sigh, almost in defeat. Billy was so caught up in the specific situation that he was neglecting everything that occurred before it. You'd opened up to him; you'd trusted him with your feelings. You told him something you hadn't even told your best friend, and he used it against you.
"That night in my room?" You start, jogging his memory for him since he had clearly forgotten. "I thought you were actually hearing me. I thought I was gaining another friend before I left, and you didn't care. You embarrassed me in front of everyone, yeah. But you also just..." You trail off, and this is why you didn't drink tequila. You can feel your eyes heating up, and you have to catch your lip between your teeth to keep it from trembling.
"I what?" He asks. He's speaking softly now, inching closer to you.
You don't want to say it. You'd come to terms with the fact that Billy was not your friend, but it was unusual how simply unkind he could be. You had only been crying because of hurting Tatum, but you hadn't fully processed your feelings about what Billy had done. You were so intent on soaking up more good with your best friends that you ignored the other side of the coin. Now it was just the two of you a third time, and even after your bold display downstairs, you are still scared to tell him how you feel.
"You really hurt me, Billy." You finally breathe, and Billy is right in front of you. As quickly as the air comes in, it leaves again. You blink profusely, trying your best to keep any rebellious tears at bay. For the first time, Billy feels. a pang of guilt. He wasn't the most emotionally intelligent guy on the planet, but he thought he had enough awareness to remember that this was a layered betrayal for you.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." It's the first offering of regret that you believe, albeit not completely. Each shot of tequila has relaxed you up to this point, but you feel that familiar air coming around you again, of your defenses being broken down with hardly any effort. You don't respond, and Billy takes it as an opportunity to move closer. Now you are almost nose to nose, Billy shrinking down to meet your height.
His eyes have that same look that you'd seen the night in your bedroom. His hair is falling in the exact same place. Deja-vu strikes you in the gut when you realize that once again, you haven't moved an inch. Billy's hand comes up to cup your cheek, head tilted slightly so he can get a good look at you.
"You are so confusing," you confess, mustering up enough nerve to make eye contact. The corner of his lip comes up in a half-smile; he knows he's confusing. It's not an accident.
"I know; it's what makes me interesting." He remarks, and your head shakes in disagreement. His hand is cupping your chin now. You're talking in order to keep yourself from passing out from the overwhelming heat beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.
"You don't have to be an asshole to be interesting, Billy." Your head is spinning from the proximity of your bodies. You begin to think back to your first encounter in Stu's garage—how charming he appeared to be and how easily his compliments rolled off his tongue. Even in your bedroom, he seemed endearing before it went downhill. In a different circumstance, you actually might've liked him.
"Then what else should I be, hm? Any suggestions?" Before you can answer, his thumb swipes languidly over your bottom lip. It seems to draw a deep breath out of you, much to Billy's satisfaction. He has you exactly where he wants you, where he's so easily been able to get you.
"You could try being decent for once," you retort, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you stay firm in your conviction, his touch is getting more distracting as the seconds pass.
Billy's smile widens. "Decent, huh? I can be decent," he replies as his thumb continues its slow descent along your jawline. You almost laugh. He can be decent despite proving otherwise at every turn.
"Everything is okay with your friends. And we're finally alone. Do you want to keep talking about that, or do you want to talk about us?" He challenges. You want to push him away to reclaim some control over the situation. But there's a part of you that's satisfied the longer you stay this close to him. After all, he was right; everything was better now. He was the only loose end that hadn't been tied up. Tatum's advice is echoing in your head; it couldn't possibly be that bad. Could it?
"I don't want to talk." Your voice is low but no longer hesitant. Your eyes trail from his lips up to his eyes, and without needing to say a single word, Billy understands.
His other hand cups just under your ear, and he pulls you the few centimeters of space to close the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours gently. The first thing you notice about his lips is the lingering taste of alcohol. You wonder for only a second if he did the same as you, downing a few shots in preparation for some kind of confrontation. Billy takes his time, his grip on you loose enough that you could pull away at any moment if you wanted to. After weeks of dancing around each other and playing tug of war, every logical part of you wanted to stop this. But the other part of you that never gave in to anything but always wanted to try—that part was much stronger right now.
Your hands come up to wrap around Billy's wrists, and slowly but surely you stop fighting all of your urges to stay away from him. Billy takes this as a signal that you want this just as much as he did, likely for very different reasons. You feel his hands trail down to your lower back, resting right on the dip before the top of your jeans. Your hands find their way to his shoulders instead, and Billy begins stepping back towards the bed.
You follow his every move, completely enthralled by the warmth pooling between your legs to take notice, or really to even care. Billy's tongue swipes along your lower lip just as he sits on the edge of the bed, using his hands to guide you onto his lap. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and greet it with your own, your fingers moving to clasp around the back of his neck.
The excitement was starting to kick in, and kissing Billy turned out to be the most incredible thing you'd done in a while. Your best friend's words come back again, and this time you have every intention of listening to them.
Your lips are still moving with his near-perfectly. It is a shock after telling yourself how incompatible you were and putting so much of your energy into making sure he knew just how much you couldn't stand him. A wave of urgency passes over you, and you're pressing yourself against him without a second thought. Billy groans when you brush against the steadily growing bulge in his pants, so you do it again.
Billy pulls away just enough so he can speak, his lips even pinker than usual. "Slow down, Arizona. We have plenty of time," he teases you, and this time you don't take it personally. Your heart is racing, and you don't know what's making you feel more drunk: Billy or the tequila.
"Sorry, sorry." You shake your head, attempting to get yourself to think clearly. Billy's hands are comfortable on your hips, his fingers dipping just below your waistband to rub small circles.
"It's okay. Just come here," he says softly, easing you forward, his lips touching your throat instead this time. He places a few kisses, and a shiver runs down your spine that makes your back arch. He catches your lips again, but it's even slower this time. He's torturing you. You whine, beginning to get a little greedy when you hear someone who is definitely not Billy.
"Well, well, well," Stu leans against the doorframe, shaking his head in amusement. You've never moved so fast before in your life, hopping off of Billy's lap and scrambling to try and look like you weren't just devouring him.
"I fucking knew it; I told you!" He pumps both fists into the air triumphantly. Tatum and Randy soon pop up right behind him, and you begin to swear under your breath, hiding your face in your hands. Billy is sitting next to you, leaning back on his hands as if nothing was happening.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Randy is beside himself, pointing between you two with a look of horror. Stu nearly collapses in a fit of laughter, and Tatum stands with her arms crossed, trying to hide her smile.
"Movie's over, freaks. Let's go home." She cocks her head to the side, signaling for you to get up so you can catch your ride back. Thank god for Tatum, whether it’s intentional or not she is helping you avoid further humiliation.
Billy remains quiet, and you almost look to him for some kind of help. What were either of you supposed to say?
You clear your throat and adjust your shirt, avoiding giving him a second glance, and do the short walk of shame out of the bedroom. Randy is speaking nonsensically—a string of questions and words that don't make any sense. What you don't see is Billy hiding a smile of his own, even coughing to try and remain as stoic as possible. You hustle down the stairs, flushed with embarrassment, and follow Tatum outside to her car.
Your seatbelts are on, and the radio is off. Now that you're out of that room, the reality of what just happened settles on you. Tatum is looking at you from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge if she should say anything or wait until tomorrow. You look at her, and a few more seconds of silence pass between both of you, and you burst into laughter.
The third time was most definitely a charm.
#billy loomis#billy loomis x reader#scream#scream 1996#billy loomis fanfiction#billy loomis smut#ghostface x reader#billy loomis x you#billy loomis x fem!reader#stu macher#stu macher x reader#stu macher x fem!reader#skeet ulrich#skeet ulrich x reader#skeet ulrich x you#scream movie
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︵ᕬ⑅ᕬ︵ written by a minor please read with caution.
꒰ྀི ๑•◡<๑ ིྀ꒱ 𝒷𝒾𝒷𝒾 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 . . . ⊹ ׂ since no one will give my bby love i will :<< . ੭
꒰ ⊃ ⸝⸝ ⊂ ꒱ ׅ ﾞ ׅ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ݁ ☆ ࣪ ꒰ scummy aether x pretty neighbor transmale reader !!̲ ✎ … pretty self indulgent ノtransmale anatomy ノ boxer-stealing ノ he!him pronouns and masculine(?) terms are referred to reader ノ perverted behaviors(from aether). ꒱
scummy aether whos just a general pervert, living in a cheap apartment solely bc he's broke college student it was a miracle to see a pretty boy like you living next to him, he can't help but look forward seeing you every morning with that cute smile plastered on your face as you went on your way to hug him pressing your body to him his moments of happiness feeling everlasting up until you get yourself off of him
scummy aether who would use any excuse to touch you inappropriately, its not like your dumb brain will notice right <33 dont worry he’s only holding your waist to make sure you won't fall like last time did, aint he such a good friend <33 dont worry your pretty boy mind about having no seats left you can sit on his lap while you order your favorite drink <33 it takes him alot of urge to just not push your body on the table and fuck your boypussy!! <33
scummy aether who always comes in your apartment you dont mind as you welcome your best friend in your humble abode showing him everywhere. you two hanging out together as friends in your bedroom which was cutely decorated with all sorts of cute things such as stuffed animals, frilly curtains, flowers lights and more!! scummy aether who once you get out of your room to get him something he secretly steals your boxers putting it in his pockets hiding them, you always wonder why you were missing so many underwear oh well you’ll just buy new ones!
scummy aether who puts cameras around your house <33 dont worry hes just making sure no one would easily get in your house except him of course <33 seeing you naked in your bathtub happily taking your time in the bath or seeing you change <33 god its so sexy he wants to barge in and make you scream his name in the entire apartment building
scummy aether who just wanna make your boy cunt squirt <33 gosh he wanna see it squirt on his cock, tongue, thighs, etc etc, he wanna see you helplessly calling his name as you give him scratches on his back <33
scummy aether who sniffs your boxers inhaling your sweet sweet angelic scent as he then uses it to jerk off imagining you calling him parting your thighs spreading your already wet cunt for him showing him how wet you are for him
scummy aether who thinks he deserves you so much, he has helped so many people, has been kind, patient and has been your friend ever since he moved in here dont you think he deserve you? he deserves that pretty boy? he deserves that cute cunt gushing on his cock, he deserved your helplessly angelic moans of his name
#૮ﾞ ๑´ ³)˘ᵕ˘៸៸ )ა 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮 ﹗! 𐂯 𓈒 ˙ ˖#bottom male reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x male reader#genshin x male reader#male reader smut#aether x reader#genshin aether#genshin impact aether#aether x male reader#aether smut#aether x male reader smut#aether x reader smut
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Gamer Girly - part 2
link to part one • link to master list
cw: alcohol, bisexualness, idk me being half gay
MDNI 18+
not proof read, literally wrote this bc of my insomnia and not being able to sleep tonight
You and Geto texted to plan a FaceTime call in a few days as it worked for his schedule and you were beyond nervous. Even going as far as using your whitening strips and getting your eyebrows done. You planned it for Thursday evening, a time after Geto’s stream was over, before you, Utahime, and Haibara were about to go out to bars for Thirsty Thursday with your fake ID’s. You did your makeup and hair while listening to the squads stream rehearsing in your head what you think Geto would say. You picked out a black crop top and a short denim skirt to wear paired with your vans. As they wrapped up their stream you started feeling anxious and took a shot of a vodka mini bottle you had lying around your apartment to calm some nerves. As you swallow some orange juice as a chaser your phone buzzes from your desk.
‘hey just wrapped up, let me know when you’re free and I’ll shoot you a call. :)’
god texting him felt like you were flirting in high school all over again like a giddy innocent girl.
you set your macbook up on your desk so you could have a better view of him for the FaceTime.
‘sure, ready whenever you are!’ You respond.
Your anticipation leads to sweaty palms and sipping a white claw that was left in your fridge at some point as you pace around your bedroom, making sure everything in the background is okay.
your ringtone from your laptop goes off rather loud and you quickly sit at your desk but don’t press the answer button too soon. The 10 seconds it takes the call to load seems like years as you bounce your leg under your desk.
“hey!” You both speak at the same exact time, as you nervously giggle.
“How are you?” Comes out of both your mouths at the same time again.
“I’m sorry, you first,” you say as he chuckles with his eyes squinted close in the most precious way.
“I’m great, happy to be done streaming for the night and getting ready to go out with some friends, how about you?”
“I’m also going out with some friends for once! We don’t go to bars a whole lot but wanted to try one tonight. Other than that great now that I actually get to speak with you,” you admit, blushing.
“Yeah about that, this moderator thing is pretty easy, mainly the thing you have to watch out for on my discord is people sexualizing Shoko. She’s started to get butthurt about how she’s ‘more than a pretty face’” he rolls his eyes sarcastically.
“Oh yeah of course…” you pause, “are you guys like dating or…?” You close your eyes not believing you just fucking asked that.
“Oh no no, she’s been Satoru and I’s best friend all through high school. We taught her to play and she has pretty much gotten better than us.”
“Satoru?”
“Oh sorry yes that is Gojo’s first name, we all go by our last names on the stream.”
“Oh yeah okay, makes sense,” you glance over at the notepad sitting next to your laptop wondering if you should be taking notes.
“I have to admit there’s not really a whole lot that goes into it, I just wanted to see you over FaceTime.” He grins, lighting up a blunt and casually looking at his screen to see your reaction.
He can’t be flirting with you…right? You decide to take the ball in your court, “well what can I say, I’m only one of your most devoted fans,” winking at him and hoping you don’t seem too lame.
He chuckles, taking a long puff of his blunt and passing it to someone off the screen.
You dare to ask, “also sorry if this is too personal to ask so soon, but I saw your area code is close to where I go to college, can I ask where you’re from?”
He looks like his brain is trying to fit pieces together for a moment, looking up at the person he passed the blunt to. “Uh, yeah I’m from Shibuya and I go to university here.”
Your jaw drops, “like University of Shibuya?”
“Yeah, are you familiar with it?” He asks.
“I’m a junior here! I had no idea you guys were from around here or went to the same school!”
You hear Gojo in the back whisper “oh my fucking god”
Suguru shoots daggers at Gojo, still off screen, and doesn’t know what to say.
“We don’t have to meet up or anything if you’re uncomfortable with it! We can just pretend like we didn’t talk about this,” you blush nervously thinking he was put off by something you said.
“No, no, I mean it would be great either way. Just was a little surprising that’s all.” He responds, no longer looking around for Gojo, just focusing on you on his screen.
“Yeah well I’ll promote you to a moderator tonight and have the other mod text you to kinda explain the situation.” The dark haired mystery man smiles awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Oh and the pay, uh how does $20 per hour sound?”
“Yeah sure whatever you’re willing to pay I’ll take it!” you say almost too eagerly. You knew mods got paid kind of well but you didn’t know it was this good. If he streams 7 days a week for 2 hours, that’s already $280 a week. Plus the time you spend in discord on the chats.
“Okay well I’ll be in touch…” he trails off and you can’t tell if he’s either high or just uninterested in your conversation. (In reality Gojo had a girl sitting on his lap sucking his face off and Suguru was trying to decide if he was disgusted or turned on)
“Yeah, thank you for picking me! Look forward to talking with you,” you say hoping he’s not regretting his choices noting that he got a little awkward after the talk about being local arose.
“Yeah, see ya,” he says too casually with hardly a hint of a smile on his face. You click the ‘end call’ button and sigh. It seems like this unobtainable crush you had on suguru for the past 9 months was still just that. Why had you never seen him around town or campus? Granted, it was a really big school and everything but never once had you seen him, by god you would remember that face.
You snap out of your trance back to your white claw and scroll to find your texts with Utahime while you down the can
‘your place in 10?’ you text her.
‘Yes, sorry kinda last minute but some of haibara and i’s other friends are going to come too’ she texts back and you groan, not in the mood to meet new people.
The thought of having to be social enough to go to the bar was anxiety inducing, but now having to actually meet people before you’re drunk? You grab two more of the mini bottles of vodka you have in your freezer downing one and shoving the other in your pocket for when you get to Utahime’s apartment.
You walk into her unlocked flat without knocking, being too in your head from the FaceTime call and what it meant. Utahime is sitting on the counter, Haibara between her legs as they are making out passionately. Her arms wrapped around his neck, legs spread in her skirt so Haibara (and you) can see her turquoise panties.
“Oh I’m sorry,” you giggle staring at the scene in front of you. “I thought you were expecting me.”
Utahime, obviously embarrassed jumps down from the counter acting like nothing happened and walks over to give you a hug. Wearing a blue skirt, white shirt, and red bow in her hair she looks as cutely innocent as ever. You looked about as opposite as her as possible with your ripped denim skirt, black crop top revealing your cleavage just perfectly, and black and white checkered vans.
“How did the call go?” She asks as Haibara excuses himself to the bathroom trying, but failing, to hide his boner from their make out session.
“Great but I have news about like the four of them -“ you’re cut off by a knock at the apartment door.
In walks a girl with white hair, a black button up black mini skirt, with knee high socks. She was accompanied by two average looking men, obviously whipped by her aura.
“Mei Mei!” Utahime runs over to her and gives her a hug. You’re a little taken aback by the warm welcome this new girl received versus your very awkward one. Well I guess that’s what you get for not knocking.
Haibara comes out of the bathroom looking like he just splashed cold water on his face and neck, “Bayer, Kokun, good to see you.” Walking up to them to dab them up.
You take this opportunity to down the mini bottle in your pocket and take a sip of Utahime’s sprite she left sitting on the counter. Sheeeeesh, three mini bottles and a white claw in before you even leave for the bar? You’re feeling pretty good and confident. Walking in on the couple’s make out session made you realize how long it had been since you got any action. Besides your vibrator working over time, usually after Geto’s streams.
You force yourself out of your thoughts and walk up to the trio chit chatting with the couple and introduce yourself. “Hey I’m y/n” and extend your hand to shake.
“Nice to meet you, y/n, Utahime has told me a lot about you.” Mei Mei says in her naturally sultry voice. Your eyes nervously look at Utahime, consider she had never mentioned this attractive white haired woman to you before.
“We’re new friends, she just moved in down the hallway and these two guys helped her move in.” Utahime says reading your mind.
“Ah nice to meet you, I’m just a few floors up if you ever need anything.” You respond.
“All we’re missing is Yuki right?” Mei Mei asks as she directs her attention to Utahime.
“Yeah but who knows if she’ll show up. I’ll text her to just meet us at the bar.”
-
With that, the group heads out to go to one of the dive bars in the city, a little place with karaoke on Thursdays. Supposedly Mei Mei knows the bouncer quite well, walking up first in the crowd to whisper something in his ear, finger trailing down his chest. You’re not sure what she said to him, only that his cheeks turned red and he let the 5 of you in without checking your IDs at all. From what you heard this place didn’t let fakes in very easily so you wonder what could have bribed that man. You grab a high top table in the back near the pool tables with Utahime and Mei Mei as the 3 boys go to grab you drinks.
“Can we sing a girls song together?” You propose to the two.
“Y/n are you drunk already? You’d never suggest that sober.” Utahime raises her eyebrows at you.
“How about the spice girls?” You ask ignoring her question. Mei Mei nods with a slight smirk. As you go up to put your name on a slip of paper the boys come back with the drinks. The DJ winks at you and you immediately regret your decision.
A few songs later and it seems your drink is gone, listening to the boys talk about sports and video games, as the two girls chat about their one annoying neighbor on their floor that has the loudest sex imaginable.
You walk up to the bar and stand patiently next to a tall beautiful blonde woman.. you try not to stare as the bartender comes over to her and asks her order. “I’ll take a whiskey and ginger ale, and whatever this girl is having.” She smirks pointing her thumb over to you. “Vodka cran please,” you squeak out to the bartender, nervously smiling at her.
The man goes to make the drinks as she sticks out her hand, “Hi pretty, I’m Yuki.”
“Oh you’re Yuki! Friends with Mei Mei and Utahime?” You stumble out the words remembering her name from earlier.
“Sorry, I’m y/n. I’m here with them tonight, I can take you to them if you’d like?”
Yuki leaves her card with the bartender and hands you your drink. “After you,” she smiles taking the first sip of her drink looking you up and down smugly. You grab her free hand with her vape in it and weave from the bar back to the table you all had claimed.
“I found someone you guys may know?” You shyly interject trying to be funny. The whole group erupts into various versions of “Yuki! Oh my god so good to see you!” She props herself up on the last open barstool at the table. Baggy red cargo pants and a black crop top, no bra with nipple piercings pretty obvious. She catches you staring and nods her head in a “come here” kind of way.
“So what’s your type?” She asks.
“Uh what?” You question back.
“What’s your type of woman?…or man I guess.” She eyes you up and down as if trying to determine your sexuality.
“Uh… I like long hair? And someone who can have a good time?” You’ve never had to answer that question on the spot so you think your answer was decent enough.
She lets out a chuckle and takes another sip of her drink. “So you’re not playing for a single side I’m hearing.” She smirks and puts her arm around your shoulder.
“Yeah I guess not” you smile back realizing how close your faces are.
Just then the DJ announces the next karaoke names, “y/n, Utahime and Mei Mei are going to sing us Wannabe by the Spice Girls!”
“y/nnnn” a tipsy Utahime grabs your hand and starts rushing you three to the stage. One thing you forgot about this place is you have to take a shot before singing. You three take your shots of what tastes like battery acid, stinging going down and trying not to think about it as the music starts.
The 90s classic song gets ever girl in the bar singing and dancing at the edge of the stage and you see Haibara behind the crowd video taping your performance.
Your words are starting to slur slightly and you are just having a great time feeling like a pop star. You swear up in the balcony of the bar you see a white head of hair jamming out and screaming the words but hey everyone’s having a good time!
The song comes to a close and the three of you get escorted off stage. You split from the two and say “I’m going to step outside to smoke for a second,” as you do when you drink.
You walk up to the back door of the bar and as you go to push, you feel someone else pull. With the alcohol in your system, your reaction time is a little delayed. Before you know it you are falling forward towards the gravel with your arms out.
“Oh Jesus Christ” you mumble out assessing the damage while you sit up so you are on your knees. Only a few scrapes as the person on the other side of the door comes up to you and puts a hand on your back.
“Oh my god are you okay I’m sorry,” you hear a familiar voice. Too familiar.
You turn around to meet amber eyes inches from your face.
“Geto?” Your jaw drops.
—
A/N I had to go through my archives to see what someone would wear to a bar in 2018 😭 and look up a discord mods hourly pay on google 😭 also had a bi panic moment w Yuki and Utahime and MeiMei as usual if you can’t tell
#suguru Geto x reader#jjk x reader#jjk#nanami kento#Haibara yu#utahime iori#jjk utahime#yuki tsunoda#mei mei#Geto#suguru#tall dark and handsome#gamer girl#discord rp#discord stuff#modern au#vodka cran#please read this#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#geto x y/n#bi panic
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just starting dating babytrick and u sleep over at his, him spooning you in his twin bed. waking up to him squeezing you tight and rutting against you in his sleep, letting out little whimpers. poor thing. reaching back to move your shorts to the side and pull his down enough for him to just slip right in side. letting him keep going, mewling and drooling on your neck until he comes deep deep inside out you. when he wakes up the next morning he freaks out(esp bc ur still asleep) but just can’t stop himself from starting to buck his hips messily, overwhelmed and sobbing quietly when he realizes head already come once. waking up midway through only for him to immediately come and he panics and is so so embarrassed and stumbling over his words as he apologizes for coming so quick(he is SUCH a bad fuck he just gets a little overexcited!!) and to make up for it he goes down on you, licking his own cum out of you. maybe it’s his first time eating someone out so it’s all sloppy and you have to redirect him a few times but he’s so desperate and enthusiastic and is soooo proud of himself when he makes you come. he def brags ab it to the guys(pete) later to try and seem cool(leaving out the part where he came in 0.2 seconds.) maybe they bring it up the next time you’re all hanging out like as a joke and you get soooo mad at him and he goes bright red and is so sorry he was just insecure and wanted them to think he was cool!! once they leave he begs you to let him fuck you eat you out anything again it was so good he won’t do any of that ever again he’ll be better he promises
he has infected my brain i’m afraid the only cure is his cock in my mouth. sad.
-spiral anon
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fix this | steve harrington x fem!reader
part one | part two | part three
summary: steve does a little soul searching OR a night of many doors [3.3k]
warnings: angst, established relationship, break up, stancy residue, fem!reader, steve's pov, cliff hanger/ambiguous ending, language, not proofed, lmk if i missed anything
that's all folks! anything else i write for this will either be something that comes to me randomly or that someone requests pre or post breakup bc i kinda want you guys to decide whether she/you take(s) him back or not and how he gains her trust
⤜♡→
Routine has a bitter enemy called the unknown. It's the darkness at a distance, inching and inching before it huddles you into a corner, forced to face the purposely avoided. It pokes and prods at the crevices of your brain, basking in the glow of attention unhindered by the attempts to shove it back into its box. It’s a subtlety, sneaking like a many legged creature awaiting the crush of a foot or a heavy hand.
Heavy handed is the deliverance of the final blow it bestows before slinking off to the shadows once more, biding time for its next significance.
The unknown is the bitter enemy of routine. A lurker at heart. It waits for the buildup, allowing itself to be the straw, the last word before the inevitable snap. It’s a concept that watches in fascination and lends its expertise at a moment's notice.
Notice the end result isn’t always crystal, but dependent. It relies on the body of the thing. Housed on stilts with the decision to break or mend. You are the stilts, two legs heavy of burden and free of direction. The unknown is at your door, not knocking but slipping through the back and resting out of sight.
The direction is yours and the direction is now, nestled atop shoulders careening with the doubt of what’s to come.
It’s a confusion, really. One that seeps in without warning, digging claws through the thin material of skin draped over the cage containing an organ beating to its contentment. Such a horrible confusion.
Love, that is.
It’s these moments of clarity, body moving without the tandem of the perfect partner, that you wonder about the ache that crawls from your center and inches in vain to the veins wrapping pale arms with the thrum of blood run blue and red when it spills over, oxygen threatening to overwhelm with the need for more.
It’s this feeling and more eating at Steve Harrington.
At present, his failure to cope with the gaping significance in the hollow of his chest has mutated into a poor work ethic.
"Next time, if you’re not gonna help me with customers you could at least rewind all the tapes! Halfsies doesn’t apply when I’m stuck playing guess that film for forty minutes." Robin’s grip tightens around Steve’s shoulders, emphasis for words wrought with exasperation. He doesn’t mind much that she’s complaining, thankful that she doesn’t actually force him to pick up the slack these days. "I don't care how long we've been doing this, I lose my mind every fucking time."
"Yeah, pretty sure I'm still waiting for the feeling to come back to my fingers from that tape getting stuck." There’s a sudden deflation in his broad shoulders, already wondering what train of thought will do to distract his brain from the muddled ache nesting there currently.
He would usually plan to stop off at the house with the white front door, a cozy rug left just beyond the threshold to indulge his feet when he slides his shoes to the corner. He would trail upstairs to find the trace of perfume leading right to your bedroom and push forward on his toes to gauge your mood for the evening. He could always tell by the low leakage of music filtering beneath the door, heightened only when his ear pressed into the wood.
He would knock twice, wait, then rap his knuckle a third time. A secret code and a letter of love reserved for the moments before he could shower you with affection up close.
Now he can hardly remember the last time he felt the cool harshness of the door and heard the melodic tune of “come in” only to find you most times splayed on the thickness of your lilac rug. You would reach for him and he would find you with immediacy.
“So, what’ll it be?” Robin pierces the connection of his brain to the warmth of the memory, forcing him back to the frigid emptiness of the parking lot.
“What?”
“Takeout and a movie? Stopping at the diner? I’m so hungry I don’t even care what we have, your choice...but you’re also buying.”
Steve’s step is a stutter just before the handle of the car door, concrete propelling him to catch himself on the exterior, glistening in the golden glow of street lamps. Robin’s lips part to comment on his clumsy disposition, but his eyes are steadied on the placement of his feet and his mind resides anywhere but the stick of his sneakers to the night soaked blacktop.
She waits for him to proceed, but he seems unaware that there was a question meant to be answered, or is rather opposed to partaking in their usual verbal give and take.
“What?” Steve senses the build in his chest, an impending thing that answers Robin’s confusion before the jumble of Steve’s first failed attempt. It’s rapid and daunting the way it beats against his skin. He wonders if his chilled hand slid past the barrier of his coat and through his polo would he feel the rough outline of the organ turned grotesque in its confusion.
“Yeah! I just…well the thing is…” He takes his time sliding into the car, twirling his keys between his fingers.
“Oh yeah, I totally get that.” Robin attempts to lighten the mood, but the bright lights of a passing pickup zero in on their pupils focused forward to avoid the oddity occurring in the front seat. Steve’s lips have come to a repetitious open close, his mouth the net that can’t seem to catch the right words. “Listen, if you aren’t gonna spit it out could you at least start the car I’m–”
Screeching. She was in fact screeching following the dramatic shift of the vehicle when rough hands pushed against the passenger window and the douse of darkness was too much for either of their eyes to adjust to after the previous bright dilation. Steve is quick to catch on, his hands shoving the key into the ignition, rolling Robin’s window down so a head with fiery hair spilling over the shoulder peers in.
“Can I catch a ride?” Max pokes at the skin of Robin’s cheek. Steve’s sure her scowl managed to trick the muscles when Max’s hands lift to feign defense and she sends Steve a confused glance. “What’s with her?”
“What are you doing here?” Steve ignores the question, waving Max into the backseat where she happily pokes her head between the front two.
“I skated here. Was bored.”
“I’m not an entertainment service, ya know.”
“Big words from a guy wearing that vest.” She points to the deep green Family Video uniform dressing Steve down in the glaring uncertainty of his minimum wage future. “Anyway, I was actually hoping you would drop me off at Mike’s.”
“And you couldn’t just board the rest of the way there because…?” Robin drones, pawing at the dial on the radio, flipping through stations riddled with static unsure of which tune they’re actually meant to be playing.
The whole situation is surprisingly irritable, a mean streak that could never be cured entirely, making itself ever present in Steve with the increasing progression of The Breakup. A title bestowed by everyone not involved, certainly one that sets Steve even further to a reason where he remains stood on the cliffside of eternal nothingness.
“Because it’s getting dark and I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not an idiot.”
“Dude, I don’t wanna take you to Mike’s house.” A stupid thing, but a guilt that clutches at his collar, wondering if its the moment you sidle by, spotting his car in the clutches of your end all. Something he still doesn't entirely understand, if only because he’s convinced himself it’s better not to. A stupid thing, but he’s nothing if not purusuasive to a fault.
“Because Nancy will be there? You know that avoiding her isn’t gonna make Y/n come back, right? I don’t even know if she’s actually left her house for anything other than school and even then none of us actually see her around.”
“Yeah, didn’t you have to crawl through her window the other night just to talk to her.” Robin adds, settling on Air Supply for a reason Steve thinks is altogether removed from her own tastes. “If you want her to take you back you’re gonna have to do some serious soul searching, Harrington. Do you want her back?”
“What the hell kinda question is that?”
“It’s a fair one because it’s been weeks, Steve. You think she hasn’t noticed that you’ve seemingly moved on?” Max tilts her head, obscuring Robin and imploring Steve to focus on the candor of her ocean blue.
“She thinks I’ve moved on?” He mumbles, adjusting himself in his seat, the sash of his seatbelt suddenly suffocating. “Well I haven’t.”
“Funny way of showing it—”
“Look, Mayfield, you don’t get it! You don’t understand how frustrating this whole thing is. I thought we were fine, perfect really. Somehow I’m always the last to know when things aren’t.” The words are sharp, an edge cutting against the buds of his tongue where his teeth dig into the fleshy muscle. “...and this time I don’t even really know why. I’m tired of apologizing when I don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“Just. Take me to Mike’s, please?”
“Whatever, but you can get someone else to take you home.”
“Whatever.”
The ride to the Wheeler’s is mostly silent. Mostly, because the deafening pause is too much for Robin who cuts in every so often with commentary about the passing scenery or a tangent that no one is really listening to.
Steve pulls to the edge of the Wheeler’s drive, not daring to pass the line of the mailbox, and glances back when Max doesn’t move. She has the audacity to look at him riddled with guilt when she nods toward the house.
“You should talk to her.”
“What? Max I swear, if you don’t get out of this car right now I will—”
“You’ll what? Not much a man of action these days, Harrington.” She’s taunting, Robin looking between the two of them like she’s stuck deciding whether she should intervene. Max doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, rather she burrows herself further into her hoodie and watches Steve expectantly. She wins either way, a step toward retribution if he gets out of the car and a point proven if he doesn’t.
It’s the reason he now finds himself stationed outside of the Wheeler’s front door, hoping that anyone but Nancy answers, a last ditch to turn around and pretend he tried his best. He can feel the burning in his chest, the desire to know what good could possibly come from this, if there is a hope for something with Nancy beyond the horrible darkness.
It’s a sick feeling, one he can’t remember having prior to this moment. A realization burning through the adolescent wandering of a heart unmended.
“Steve.” Nancy falters immediately, sweater bunching up where she wraps her arms around her frame. She glances over his shoulder, noting the glaring headlights of his BMW. “What are you doing here?”
“I uh…I’m not really positive. But I think we need to talk.” She nods, stepping aside to allow him into the house. He doesn’t proceed, hand swiping at the back of his neck, an accumulation of something always seeming to nag at the exposed piece of skin. “Maybe we could do it out here?”
“Sure.” She closes the front door, shouldering the frame while Steve stares straight ahead, at the seasonal wreath hanging from it.
“I don’t think I ever got over you and everything that happened.” He finally manages, the words feeling like tar the way they worked their way up slowly and coated his mouth until he spit them out. A harsh truth buried beneath the guise of friendship, something he never saw the same way as you. “I don’t really know why, well I probably do but I’m never really able to admit it.”
“What do you want me to say, Steve? I apologized and I’ve moved on…I don’t know what to say.” It irks him, her dismissal of his admission. It’s not an expectation for her to reciprocate, but a hint of empathy would do in a situation altogether unfamiliar. It reminds him of being with her in the beginning and the way it slowly cooled off near the end. Never any intention of hateful brushoffs but it’s certainly how it felt at the time.
“I want you to say that you know, because I think you do. Maybe you don’t do it on purpose but you do use it to your advantage.” It’s like a glimmer in the underbrush, an opening for him to take and he’s pushing past the thickness with as much grace as possible but he’s bound to get stuck eventually. “We never hung out when Jonathan was here. It’s a fact, and it’s fine but why is it that I’m always the first person you come to when it gets to be too much?”
“Because I know you’ll be there—”
“Because you know I’d do anything for you. Because I’m the idiot who’s still stuck in senior year, with a girl who left me behind when—” He catches himself, that streak pushing against the back of his teeth. He doesn’t mean it all to sound so bitter, but the festering anger at his own desperation is hard to ignore. “The thing is, Nance, I can’t be that person for you anymore. There is a girl who loves me, who loves me more than anyone, probably more than I deserve and she thinks I don’t feel the same because I’ve been too caught up in something that doesn’t exist anymore.”
“I’m sorry…” She mutters, Steve catching a glimpse of wetness against her cheek before she swipes it away as quickly as it appeared. “You’re right and it’s not fair to you…or Y/n. I guess…I guess I’m just mad that he’s gone and I wanted to go back to junior year when my biggest problem was what I should wear the next time I see you.”
“Nance—”
“No, you’re right. Whatever we had, it’s not here anymore and it hasn’t been for a long time. You’re such a good friend to me Steve, but that’s it and I have to stop letting you believe it’s anything more than that.” She nods, stepping just a little closer, her hand resting against his cheek with a soft smile. “She loves you more than I ever could, and you deserve it, but she deserves it too. To be loved that way.”
“Maybe I’m not the guy for her because all I can seem to do is hurt her.”
“That’s not true. I think you just needed to see things for what they really are, to know everything else was just some stupid desire to chase the past. You should go to her, before it really is some other guy.” She half shoves him, his feet skittering against the concrete.
“Thanks, Nance.”
“Thanks Steve.”
He jogs back to the car, not a word uttered to either of his passengers before he’s setting off in the direction of your house. The two girls exchange looks, half hopeful with a hint of confusion.
“What happened?” Max taps at his shoulder, jerking when he makes an especially sharp turn. “Can you maybe drive like a normal person!?”
“Yeah, we’re still in the car, dingus! Both of us live the other way, just in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t, but thanks for the tip.” He counters, coming to a stop in front of your house. He tugs his arms out of his work vest, sliding his hands through his hair giving the strands an unkempt look. Then he just sits.
“Are you gonna go in?” Steve is too far gone to know who said it, every possible scenario of the moment he sees you again swirling in his brain, all of the worst ones popping out like a jack-in-the-box.
“I think he’s just gonna sit there.”
“Both of you shut up! I’m going.” This time he does, a foreign feeling walking the length of your driveway. Again, he can’t remember the last time he’d done it, muscle memory saving him from the uneven plate of concrete along the path to your front door.
He’d stored it in the back of his brain after your third date, he carried you to your room when you twisted your ankle, far too proud to admit how badly it hurt until he peeled your sock from your ankle to see it already angry and swelling. There’s a ghost tugging at the corner of his lips, dusting a smile in place of the lined skin when he lifts his fist to the door.
“Steve! It’s been a while, I was wondering when I’d see you again.” It’s your mom, the skin around her eyes coming off more tired than usual, but her smile is as radiant as ever when she ushers him into the house. She mentions something about dinner sometime soon and he nods absently before she leaves him to brave the trek upstairs in solitude.
It’s routine from there, the way he shuffles out of his shoes and wiggles his toes against the fluffy rug as he sets them aside. He’s slower than usual, afraid of what will or won’t happen when he ascends the stares.
He’s suddenly all too aware that he’s empty handed, not that he thinks you’d expect something but it still feels wrong to show up after so much time has passed. He’s aware it’s the longest you’ve been apart since you started seeing each other. He feels even worse.
When he steps onto the landing he can see light filtering beneath your door, but not much. He imagines you must be relying on light by wick again, can picture the array of candles systematically dancing along your dresser. He would periodically advise you against them, the time he found you asleep with them scaring him half to death, but the whole of it was a fondness he couldn’t do without. The warmth of the candles and the soft lighting creating the perfect space to exist as just the two of you.
He’s outside of your door now, his thoughts distracting him from the gait to the end of the hall. He leans forward on his toes, ear pressing against the door. The vibration is hopeful and he’s sure he catches a lyric or two from some Stevie Nicks song he doesn’t know the name of. His nerves have the better of him, unable to decipher the mood the lyrics or the instrumental are giving off.
He could turn back now and you would never know.
He almost laughs at the thought, doesn’t because you’ll hear and the last thing he needs is for you to think he’s mocking you from the other side of your bedroom door. It’s funny because it wasn’t even a thought to come here, it was just something that he knew. Something he knows, the love for you pounding in his chest. Now he’s standing out here, unsure if you wanna see him or if you’ll ignore the gentle singing of his fists.
He knocks twice, waits, then rap his knuckle a third time.
He waits a beat, wondering if you hadn’t heard or if you had and he’s making a fool of himself. His fist is half raised, his right foot turned back toward the stairs, unsure whether to stay or go when he hears it. It’s faint, low beneath the rumbling of your cassette player, but it’s there.
“Come in.”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington scenario
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Hihi! How’s it going?
Can we get another part of clumsy yan? Maybe some smut too but it’s up to you!
Thanks, have a nice day! :D
`; 三 Clumsy Yandere;`三
Desc and possible Tw: Yandere themes, sexual themes, stalking, clumsy being a whiny bitch of a creep, pictures taken without consent, crying, being tied up, mentions degrading, falling bc its Clumsy yan, and minor injury (from falling)!
Let me know if I missed any!
•• Clumsy Yandere who… as I said, Stalks you. He stalks you all day, every day! Since he doesn't go outside much and only goes out when you do, he has a lot of free time.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… bought a camera just to take pictures of you. When he does his daily 8 hours of Stalking, he prints the pictures and puts them in a scrapbook.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… when he takes naughty pictures of you, He has a folder he hides in his 'special' drawer. He jerks it to the pics of you :3
Casually jerking it to a photo of you
•• Clumsy Yandere who… fantasizes abt you. He daydreams and dreams about you, wet dreams, marriage dreams, etc. He imagines everything the two of you could do together!
One day.. my love. One day it'll all come true..
•• Clumsy Yandere who… secretly loves it when you degrade him. Sure he also loves praise with his entire being, but being degraded.. really gets him going~
•• Clumsy Yandere who… Absolutely loves bondage. Please tie him up! He'll be a good boy, he promises he won't hump your leg again!
M'sorry! I p-promise to be a good boy! He's drooling and crying
•• Clumsy Yandere who… cries during sex. He'll hump and rub himself against your leg while sobbing praises and how much he loves you. This loser gets overwhelmed and he's hella sensitive.
Cant.. keep going.. no.. more! As he still humps YOUR leg willingly
•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a big worshiper, he loves you so much!
He lays in ur arms and whispers countless words of worship and praise
Onto more.. sfw things! :)
•• Clumsy Yandere who… falls all the time. He always has scratches or bruises from falling!
Please kiss it better..
•• Clumsy Yandere who… is very indecisive. One minute, he wants to cuddle in silence and be held by you, next minute, he wants to cuddle with his cats instead!
Can we cuddle? (2 minutes later) I wanna paint..
•• Clumsy Yandere who… would pass out during a horror movie. He cannot watch horror movies without crying and screaming hysterically! Little bitch
Hysterical sobbing and screaming TURN IT OFFFFFF
•• Clumsy Yandere who… is truly pathetic. Not even pathetic, fucking hopeless. After the first time you guys fought, he cried and tried to cuddle up to you, begging for forgiveness.
I'M SO SORRY! IM SORRY IM SORRY He cries
•• Clumsy Yandere who… would make a hundred playlists dedicated to you. His Spotify isn't even his anymore, it's yours 💀
•• Clumsy Yandere who… decorates his room in things you own or like. He's def stolen items from your room and hung/placed them around his room.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… has painted 1000 paintings of you. Nothing else. Just you.
He has paintings of you hung up all around his painting room
•• Clumsy Yandere who… when everytime he falls in public, will drag you home and then cry into your arms.
I..I'M SO EMBARRASSED! THAT WAS HORRIBLE I'M NEVER GOING OUTSIDE AGAIN He whines and cries in ur arms
•• Clumsy Yandere who… in the end, is still pathetic as fuck. But will always do what you ask and love you until death!
My love.. I love you so so much. Let's stay together forever, okay?
I hope you all enjoyed reading as I enjoyed writing! Also 🍯 anon, sorry it's a bit late! My brain was all over the place and I didn't know where to start! (´･ω･)
#Clumsy yandere#clumsy yan#Clumsy yandere x gn reader#clumsy yandere x reader#yandere#yandere oc#x gender neutral reader#x gn reader#yandere x reader#gn reader#x gn y/n#gn yandere#x reader#I hate him so much ♡
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The whole being dead thing
(MUSICAL) BEETLEJUICE X GN! PLUS SIZE! MORTICIAN! READER
Beej being really into the readers body, fat4fat bitches rise up. Beetlejuice is a tummy guy.
+nsfw
- Death was something you were well acquainted with. Working with the dead like it was second nature.
- and to you it was, underneath florescent lights and protective gear you felt at home.
- you'd had run-ins with the recently deceased, it wasn't uncommon, in fact a representative of the underworld had given you a couple dozen copies of 'handbook for recently deceased'.
- ghosts were just a part of your job, so when Beetlejuice showed up you didn't think too much of it.
- until he stayed around.
"So why exactly do you stay here with me?" You ask, hands busy gently applying a layer of foundation on an older woman's face. Beetlejuice hums.
"I just like the vibe."
- one night after a particularly rough day (even as a seasoned mortician some things can still get to you.) you smoked a joint in the car before you left the parking lot.
-irresponsible? 100%, but you don't do it often, so Beetlejuice is high-key surprised.
- you're his favorite breather, so of course you smoke weed! And also a lil worried, but he's not exactly sure why yet.
- you end up falling asleep in the car and when you wake up you're leaning on him, he's just kinda looking at you with wide unblinking eyes.
- like a cat focusing on prey?? But y'know kinda lovingly .
- acts differently from that point
- he stops staying there for the 'vibe' he starts saying he just wants to hangout.
- outside of being at the funeral home.
- at YOUR house.
- he still came and went while you worked.
- one night you spark up maybe a little too much, and are just a bit too touchy, and- ah shit he's hard.
- you kiss him; he tries sobering you up. You think he's mad at you. You fucked up.
- you wake up the next morning and Beej checks up on you, and you apologize like crazy and low-key confess.
- he kisses you this time and you reciprocate. And soon his hands are wandering all over your body, and he finds your belly and it's soft and squishy and he can grab at it and and and-
-he short circuits, he can't produce new blood you assume so when it goes to his dick he def gets light headed.
- lets out just this fucking noise from deep in his throat, he's so turned on man.
- you grind on him and he almost cums in his pants 🤩.
- your hands find his body, and you run your hands across his folds and just hold his love handles
- you fuck so hard that night you genuinely have to call of work because you can't walk.
- if you're trans masc he sucks T dick like a binki btw! Runs his tongue over the tip and slurps it down with the filthiest fucking noises, literally bobbing his head up and down, moaning when you pull his hair.
- T shots are followed by head, he can't go without it.
- trans femmes he sucks girl cock like it's his fucking job, will literally only come up to call you a good girl and finger you :3!
- what I'm trying to say is he's super good at giving head, and it's mostly bc he doesn't need to breathe, so he could go until your legs shake and you're crying 🩷.
- also takes it up the ass like a fucking CHAMP, whining for it and his voice literally cracking. (Oh God if you're teasing him, don't get me started, "you take my strap/cock so good pretty boy." "MORE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!")
- he pulls hair, scratches and bites, no you can't convince me otherwise.
-it sparks up... Interesting conflicts in your brain. "It's... not necrophilia, right? Technically??? You're dead, but not like... Dead dead, I can talk to you, and you can consent?"
- he's soft for you.
- but also you'll probably need to wrangle him into the bath.
#x male reader#x fem reader#masc reader#trans masc reader#trans femme reader#x transfem reader#x transmasc reader#beetlejuice x reader#beetlejuice#beetlejuice x transmasc reader#beetlejuice x transfemme reader#Beetlejuice x reader HCs#head canons#romance head canons
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All right I've been holding this back for a while but now you get to see my
Rating Tron's Exes
list
The boy:
See? him face
And now the exes:
FIRST UP WE HAVE
1. Dyson
Bougie Rat Bastard 3000
Is the Worst™
Absolute dork loser
Made a grab for power and betrayed his brother his captain hiS KING
Not even hot
2/10 Sucks like the vacuum he is
2. Clu
Discount fuck boi god wannabe
Okay listen
There's chemistry between them
Even if it's toxic af
He's part of Kevin of course he and Tron dated
Yes it was full of hate
Esp when he was stuck as Rinzler 😏
But sometimes u gotta date an asshole to know what u dont want
0/10 Actual Nazi
3. Able
Daddy? Sorry
FATHER material
Has stable job and income
Firm but kind and caring
Will tell u to stfu
Divorce was mutual and they got split custody of Beck so pretty chill breakup overall
10/10 Need I say more
4. Cyrus
Boundaries Were Crossed
Yet another betrayal *sigh*
My boi Tron knows how to pic em
Somehow more crazy than Clu
But less Nazi at least???
Spectacular revenge plot tbh
Looks pretty sick 😎
World's Messiest Breakup
5/10 Dedicated to the bit
4.1 Beck
CRACK SHIP I SWEAR
I know y'all are about to come for me
But listen
Programs have no concept of age
This ship is purely for fun for me, I highly ship them as father and son usually (see: Able)
Something about the desperation and trust issues between them speak to me
We all know it would never work out
7/10 doomed by the narrative (if we HAD ANY)
5. Flynnster
fuck boi God SUPREME
I am highly biased on this
loves Tron so much he ported him from the old system
Spent more time with him than with his own son (-1 point for that)
named everything after him
Tron was ready to give up his own life to save him
ANGST
never officially broke up but he thought he was derezzed so that counts
9/10 HERE WE STAND WORLDS APART HEARTS BROKEN IN T- ok I'll stop
6. Ram
Cinnamon Roll too pure yadda yadda
Wide eyed sweetheart
Never did anything wrong in his short cycle
Was in a brief polycule with Tron and Flynn
Only broke up because he derezzed
What's not to like
11/10 perfect angle
7. Yori
HER
Unpopular opinion y'all are about to murder me
They were each other's beards
She's a nerd lesbian
Because she's hot and I want a chance with her I want her to be
They simply realized they preferred other programs and amicably broke up
She calls him up from the first system every now and then and they spill some hot tea and rebellion tips
100/10 bc im in love with her here have another pic
Anyone I missed?
In conclusion, all users and programs desire Tron carnally, grid's biggest slut, he's in nothing and is my everything thank you for coming to my TRON Talk next time I'll rate Beck's exes cause that's been overcooking in my brain too
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gonna drop a silly little happy auau idea i had since its prob gonna be a while until i feel pog enough to actually draw it-
ujhhhhh ok so like, metal is an active threat in Happy Auau, swearing vengeance on Sonic and Co (Shadow, Silver, Tails, and ghost Knuckles) after they whooped his ass back to mobius (he has completely dominated the Sol until they arrived, also omg hi blaze!!)
So obv Metal is a lil pissy about having all his work ripped out from under him by his horrible flesh counterpart, after he HAD ALREADY WON. So hes trying to fucking kill the shit out of them, for real this time.
Hes causing so much terror that sonics the one to put forward the notion that they need to shut him down for good, which is how u know its serious sdbhfhjds. its been a long time since sonics had a real rival challenge him like metal, and part of him wants to keep the adrenaline and fight- but as a wise(r) old man he knows that metal is too much of a greater danger to a kingdom hes trying to protect. Metals also REALLY been getting on his fucking nerves. lmao
the gang are collectively trying to come up with a way to shut him down for good, a way theyre positive they cant come back from, but mfer keeps escaping containment, so thats a whole other problem
anyway, shadow has (in his opinion) a brilliant idea and he doesnt tell anyone BSHFHBD. so he takes the 7 chaos emeralds and inbeds them into sonics crown, and puts it on him in the middle of the night
hes trying to mind control sonic BHJSABHJDSBHJDHBJ and it works!!! next morning sonics head is fucking EMPTY
so shadow, in typical fashion decides to see how far he can take this! bc he is a strange strange man. i think it turns into real comedic shit like shadow has him put on like. the MOST emo thing hes got in his closet. makes him say no to being offered a chili dog, makes him tell tails hes Cringe!!!! the funniest one to me is shadow using this to make sonic fawn over him bc shadow can never get enough ego boosting!!
i wanna have sonic break the mind control over the actual DUMBEST reason, smth rlly goofy like shadow tells him to call him "the coolest"
either way after it breaks uhhh shadow gets fucking werehog punched thru a wall!!!! sonics fucking SEETHING. like steam is coming outta the mans ears. shadow is COMPLETELY unfazed and ive been rotating dialogue in my brain along the lines of 'took you long enough' or 'its about time'
they start an actual fight (its mostly just shadow gracefully and nonchalantly dodging whatever attacks sonic sends his way) and sonic is chewing him out for Whatever The Fuck that was.
Shadow casually explains that sonic is the only person he knows with as strong a passion for freedom as him, making him the most resistant to any kind of control, he would put up the strongest fight against it like no other, and if it works on sonic, then its likely to forcefully work on Metal if the need arises. sonic begrudgingly accepts the reasoning but keeps fighting with shadow anyway to work the anger off sdbfhsbhdfhs bc hes still pretty livid about the whole thing
anyway heehoo silly stuff spinning in my brain in mach 10 speed
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JJBA PART 5, VENTO AUREO IS THE UNDERBAKED MESS I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT FIXING...PART 1
imagine you are celebrating your big promotion at the pigeon crushing factory (in this world you make a living crushing pigeons into a cube, this isnt important) and decide to treat yourself to a delicious hibachi feast at the local grill. as you sit down, your chef introduces himself to you; to your surprise, the chef is reknown mangaka hirohiko araki!
"wow, amazing!" you think to yourself, "i can't wait to see what delicious treats he has waiting for me, especially after that scrumptious part 4 i had last time". araki smiles knowingly, seeing the recognition of his talent in the gleam of your wide eyes. with a dramatic flourish, begins his work. a wild and frenzied solo performance begins. ingredients are chopped and flung with dazzling accuracy, speed, and showmanship until you are presented with the fruits of his labor: a new dish, just for you.
there's one problem. he forgot to turn on the grill. or maybe he never meant to. his confidence leaves you unsure of what to do when he starts flinging raw onions into your mouth and encouraging you to chew. like the tragic chef from the clickhole video, he has served you a plate of raw chicken and vegetables and is now looking at you with his arms crossed over his chest waiting for you to dig in.
youtube
its not all bad. you can eat some of the veggies as long as they don't touch the chicken, but the majority of it is inedible. you didnt even get to see him do the cool onion thing. you push the plate back unfinished and hoping for an explanation for what the fuck just happened but when you look up, you realize araki has already left. his big chef hat and coat are lying on the floor where he shed them on his new journey to start a raw foods store having discovered his passion for organic veggies. next time you crush so many pigeons you get another promotion, you try the new store and its delicious. can't fault him, i guess!
this is the experience of watching jojo part 5.
---
and LOOK. i'm not lacking in perspective here. its presumptuous to say "i can do better" or "i could fix this" when it comes to anyone's work, let alone the work of someone singular like hirohiko araki. no one's brain operates the way his does, as evidenced by the paltry and weak attempts by the spin-off artists who struggle to recapture that same magic; they all lack whatever je ne se quoi araki has tapped into that's off limits to every other human on planet earth.
straight up, my approach to storytelling is too conventional to be a good replacement for araki's (who seems to be just completely unhinged both on and off the page) so my suggestions to "fix" part 5 are going to be broad strokes and not finely tuned fanfictions. there are just...things i would have like to see happen. and the list is long enough that i think it necessitates that this essay be done in parts. but everything you need to fix it is right there within the existing text. much like the bad meal, the manga (presumably, i only watched the anime. no! stop booing me!) has all the ingredients, the passion, and the skills to create a satisfying end result, its genuinely just missing the ability to bring it all together in a satisfying way. and it is so, so frustrating to watch unfold from the comfort of your couch.
however, for people not in the jojo know-know (who are just reading this bc it started with a pigeon crushing metaphor and you wanted to see where it was going), i do have to explain the historical lens we have to consider with part 5: it wound up being the first evolutionary step of araki's change in art style and story-telling conventions. the fashion aesthetics are wilder, the stakes are bigger, and the stands (WAY) more esoteric. with hindsight, we can look back and understand that it turned out to be weird because he was experimenting in real time (as artists who work serially have to due to the nature of the job) with what he was interested in and what he wanted to explore. so there's nothing WRONG with part 5 in the cosmic sense. and it wasn't without entertainment. and most of the characters were great!
it just that this whole thing causes me enough mental anguish to think about day in and day out to the point of writing what will turn out to be an embarrassing amount of words about my objectively least favorite part of a body of work i've come to adore. its fine. whatever.
come with me...join me whether you know jojo or not, as i try to stay sane tonight and many other nights. watch with concern and glee i rant incoherently about things that will make me seem like an absolute raving lunatic to anyone who is only barely familiar with the franchise and loosely understands it, as i only did, as a series about people who do pokemon but with ghosts who punch people.
first up, i need to do some comic work, and then we can talk about AHHH
OUT! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT OF HERE! GET THAT BEAST AWAY
AHHH
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in my room || pt. 1
pairings madly inlove!ellie williams x madly inlove!reader
summary based of the song, in my room by insane clown posse
warnings reader stalks ellie? just lowkey creepy reader, reader has trouble eating due to her mothers death, not much warnings for this chapter since its the backstory and how they met, but theres gonna be KINKY smut in the other chapters
a/n idk how many chapters this will be, 3-5?? its in 3rd pov with some flashbacks that are 1st pov and i really hope nobody has based an ellie fic off this song bc im really proud of it since it was my own idea lol, also i think for the next short fic i do its gonna be like an 80s camp consular thing if u guys want that??
wordcount 4k
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4
—
aime and ellie had been best friends ever since they met eachother. ever since aime first laid eyes on ellie, she knew she was going to be hers, ellie didnt even know she existed, but she was hers.
aime remembers the first time seeing ellie like it was yesterday, even though it was almost 6 years ago.
aime was walking down the road of jackson, walking down to get food, and stopped by the horse stables when she heard a mention of new people.
"yeah, apparently it was actually just tommys brother" the older male teenager said from inside the stable
"tommy has a brother? and he has a neice? i didnt know that, where were they?" the slightly younger, also male, teenager said, also from inside the stable
"no, the girl wasnt his kid, i heard her calling him by his name and tommy didnt know her, i dont know their relation but theres a rumor that they traveled from maine to here on feet"
"that's impossible, and why would he travel all those states with some kid? maybe he knew her mom"
"yea, i have no fucking clue.. hey give me a hand with this-"
and with that, aime was back on her feet, done with easedropping
hmm.. a new girl and a new man?
aime didnt know anything about it. she had just gotton back from sneaking outside the walls, only coming back because the empty feeling in her stomach was getting to hard to ignore
she walked into jacksons cafeteria, immediately spotting the back of girl with brown hair (with lots of red undertones) tied up into a ponytail, sitting next to a bigger man, aime immediately noticed the food the girl had stuffed into her pockets.
she walked quietly over and hid herself behind a pilar that held the building up, well not actually but in her little 14 year old brain, if that thick wood pilar were to be chopped off, the whole roof would come down with it.
she peaked over the piller, now infront of the girl, able to see her face.
and thats when she felt it. its impossible to describe with measly words of what she felt, but she just knew. she saw the girls eyes, she could tell from the meters away she stood, that they were the most beautiful eyes she's ever seen. they were green, the edges of her eyes lighter, more like chartreuse, but got darker in the middle, like a juniper green, and is that a mix of cedar brown in there too?
after getting lost in the unknown girls eyes, she moved her back behind the pilar, hiding herself completely, she couldnt help but a small smile forming. the bright energy she carried radiated off her. shes mine.
the day after, she watched out her window as the girl from the food center, which she learned by now her name was ellie.. what an adorable, name.. it suited her face so well.. escaped with one of the horses from the stables. she had watched as she rode off, peaking over her shoulder making sure nobody saw her leave, which nobody did, execpt of course aime, but aime didnt mind her leaving, because she knew she was to see her again, and would finally then introduce herself.
it wasnt for months until ellie came back. the guy who she came with, tommy's brother, which aime had also learned awhile backs name was joel, came back with her as well. they both were fearly bruised, scarred, but they came back.
her girl came back for her.
aime had lived in an empty house, it was small, only one floor, but it still had two bedrooms, but technically only one considering the other bedroom was boarded shut with wood and nails across the doorframe, leaving everything inside the room completely abandoned.
it was her mothers room. the same mother that had tought aime to kill every person in sight that wasn't her, no matter their pleads or screams, no matter if they did absolutely nothing wrong. if they breathed it was a threat.
it felt weird, after going her whole entire life of killing every single person without a second thought, to just.. not. to just.. let the strangers pick her up and drag her to saftey.
i cradled my mother that was covered head to toe in blood, holding her head in my lap, i stared blankly down at her, the emotion i felt was overwhelming, my vision was foggy, blurring, blackening, my chest was moving up and down rapidly, but my eyes didnt even near water.
my mom always had a lot of rules i needed to follow, and to never cry was one of them, she told me it meant i was weak, and it was a threat for our lives to be weak, to show emotion to others.
my ears also rung, i knew there was people around, their light beamed down onto us, i was waiting for them to shoot us, i mean, why wouldnt they? some girl comes to the gates of their community, skin and clothes soaked and covered completely in crimson red, matching the women she held as she collapsed to the floor.
but when my vison faded to black, the ringing got louder, and louder, until it was completely dark and silent.
2 days later, im sitting in a chair, leaned over, my elbows to my knees, hand cupped tangled into my mothers. she layed in the hopsital bed, tubes connected to her, a moniter beeping
i was inside a community. the community that i showed up to the gates. i had passed out, and they took us both in, immediately getting my mother that had a gunshot wound to the head medical attention, she's still alive, the bullet only grazing her, but not conscious, the doctor says its a coma, and she could wake up in one minute, or never, and theres no way to tell, and they also couldnt tell how messed up she was until she woke up. i had only passed out asleep, a really deep sleep from how exhausted i had been from doing all that running with no sleep for days and no food or water for too long.
me and my mother had to leave the cabin that we had been staying at since a horde of runners was coming through and we didnt have enough supplies to take them down, and while trying to find a new home, we ran into these guys, it didnt go well. but when i saw burning smoke from not too far ahead, i dragged my mother's unconscious body towards it, just in hopes that it was a community home to moral people. i had collapsed at the gates once i had gotten there, i couldnt even push out a single word, i though my mother had died,
i had broken so many rules. i trusted these people. let them take us in, i wanted them to. i asked for their help. i didnt kill them, i still havent killed them, i dont want to kill them!
the community is called jackson, aime had asked the guy, whos wife was basically the leader, his name tonmy, why he took her in, he asked why wouldnt he, and explained to her that her and her mother were no threat, and she was just a child, with her hurt mother that did no harm. he gave them their own home, aimes mother got moved into it too, still in her coma.
that was when aime was 11. her mom didnt wake up for almost 3 years, and when she did wake up, she wasnt good. it took weeks for her to gain full consciousness, and when she was fully conscious, it was only a week before she passed.
some stupid infection apparently.
then, 2 weeks later, ellie showed up again.
aime watched from her bedroom window as ellie and joel walked on the path, accompanied by tommy and maria. ellies eyes were empty, she didnt have the energy she radiated before, and aime was determined to regain her the energy.
aime had already planned out how she was gonna interact with ellie and how she was gonna get her to fall inlove. she decided on not introducing herself until a few days or maybe even a week after her arrival. ellie was already getting bombarded by everyone, so once everyone calmed down, aime was gonna make ellie speak to her first.
aime had spent the next 5 days sneaking around and.. well, stalking ellie. she needed to find out what she was like, what her interests were, her pet peeves, that kind of stuff.
ellie liked astronomy, books about space and planets, that type of stuff, were stored into her room on her shelf, while a half opened comic of ‘savage starlight’ seemed to be what she was currently reading. ellie liked to draw and write, even more if she was listening to her walkman during it, aime assumed that she used writing to get her thoughts out or maybe as a coping mechanism. aime had a strong temptation to sneak into ellies room and snoop through her journal and see what she wrote about, or to even check what music was in her walkman, but she knew that was going too far and if she were to get caught, it would ruin everything.
she also saw ellie talking to dina and jesse a few times. aime bit back her jealousy when she did, dina and jesse were dating and have been for awhile and so clearly are inlove with one another and aime shouldnt worry about them getting in the way.
aime didn’t necessarily have friends, she was really quiet, reserved, she wasnt even supposed to be in a community, ever, and under the circumstances of her mom, people understood why she wasnt bright and cheery. the only time she talked was when she was spoken to, but aime decided she needed to push past it, and finally become a real person. finally have a fucking personality.
a few months after aimes first arrival when she was 11, maria had talked to her about putting some work in, aime undertsood, as she was getting free medical care for her mother, free food, free water, free shelter, and agreed on it, at first maria put her on teaching the young kids how to read and write, but aime hated it, and begged maria to do patrol with the older teenagers, but since she was only 11, maria said no, and put her on teaching kids self defense. aime had tought the kids how to protect themself from others for 2 years before maria finally agreed for aime to do group patrol.
aime was the only 13 year old allowed to go on patrol, after maria had seen how good she was and after aime begging for years, she was the exception.
aime woke up early, gently brushing her hair till it was smooth and soft. she decided on folding the peices of her hair to make two french braids, her hair ending a few inches below her shoulders, from the hot and sticky weather. it was spring, and the weather had been unpredictable, going from rainy and gloomy one day to sunny and sticky the next. today was a sunny-hot day. she splashed cold water on her face, patting it dry, and applied cherry scented lip balm that glossed her pink lips and left a red tint.
her patrol group had rode past some old underwear store a few weeks ago, and aime had snuck behind the group, searching until she found a pair that looked close enough to her size. she wore the bra she had gotten from that day, pushing up her small breasts to make them look full, and put on a simple white tank top, just barley showing off her cleavage. she just wore regular jeans with it, they were dark blue, warn out, hugging her hips perfectly, the bottom of them got baggy, covering the hightop part of her converse. she should probably wear her boots today, it had rained a few days ago and would be muddy, but ellie wore her converse shoes everyday so aime would wear hers too, to match.
once the girl was ready, she stuck her lipgloss into her pocket just in case, and left.
“hey aimees! you’re up pretty early” jesse smiled, as he sat on one of the bar stools to the same cafeteria where aime first saw ellie. jesse was super friendly, he definitely would call aime his friend, if not, his best friend, but aime wouldn’t consider him her friend. its not that she didnt like him, she actually found him quiet amusing, but she wasnt really the people type and didnt like opening up to people.
“yeah, i woke up at 5, couldnt fall back asleep so i just thought i’d take my time getting ready and actually get breakfast for once” i nodded
“troubles with sleeping again? maria has pills for that i think if you ask her about it im sure she wouldn’t mind giving you some” he said with that look in his eyes that everyone else had been giving her lately
“jesse, stop”
“stop what? im just trying to help”
“yeah, thats the problem, i dont need help, and stop giving me that sad look”
jesse stayed quiet, aime left him, ording some food, once she had gotten it, she came back and sat down, staring at it. she never was good with eating, but ever since her mothers death, its been worse. she picked at the pancake with her fork. the only reason she had gotten food was because maria talked to her the other day about how she never eats and she asked her to grab food before patrol today, she said she would, and she alwyas keeps her word. she didnt think it would be this hard, but now that the food was infront of her, she felt sick.
“you okay?” jesse asked
“m’ great” aime hummed, slicing off a peice of pancake and shoving it into her mouth. she slowly ate, a simple conversation with jesse going on between, when suddenly he asked about her.
“have you met ellie yet?”
aimes eyes widened, but quickly went to normal. jesse didnt notice. “uh, no? is that the new girl?” she asked looking up from he food, she asked as if she didnt spend every other second of her day thinking about her. hell, two nights ago she spent, watching her.
“yeah, she’s actually pretty cool, and she said she would come here this morning and dina too, thats why i was here in the first place, they should be here soon”
“hm” aime hummed quietly, pretending not to care. jesse continued talking about dina, just him thinking outloud basically, until he stopped mid sentence to start a new sentence to new people- “oh! finally, i was starting to think you guys ditched me” jesse smiled to the two girls, aimes eyes were glued to her plate, only a few bites were left of her pancake and she only ordered one, and had been here for about at least 20 minutes.
“hey jesse!” aime heard dinas voice, the corner of her eyes she could see dina coming up to jesse to give him a quick hug, before she turned to aime
“hey aime! how you’ve been?” dina asked gently, aime rolled her eyes. she hated it. she hated the way people treated her. aime saw dina everyday, and dina always asked the same question as if it was gonna make her depression disappear.
“great” aime mumbled, ignoring her thumping heart of being only a few feet away from ellie
it was silent for a few seconds, “oh! aime, meet ellie!” dina cheered, how the fuck can she be this happy at 6:30 in the morning? everyday too. “hey” she mumbled, not looking at ellie at all. aime pretended as if she didn’t care. “uh, hi” ellie shuffled awkwardly from behind her
“come on aime! actually introduced yourself”
dina smiled, waiting for us to fully meet.
i hopped off my seat, standing only a foot away from ellie, we were about the same height, execpt i was a few inches taller
i smiled at her awkwardness. “hey ellie, im aime, i live next door to you in the wooden house” i lifted my hand out to her, she looked up to me, confused at my sudden change of personality, “hi..” ellie said quietly, unsure of what to say since aime already knew her name
aime looked down to ellies arm as ellie connected her hand to hers, aime felt sparks in her stomach, and ellie felt weird too, but she assumed it was just the anxiety of meeting a new pretty girl.
aime immediately felt worried for ellie as she noticed the white bandaged wrapped around her arm, she hadnt notice it before, from ellie always wearing long sleeves until now, aime let go of ellies hand, eyebrows furred, aimes left hand held ellies arm right beneath the bandage, while she reached out with her right and traced gently over it, “what happened? are you okay?” aime asked, her voice was calm, but panic was inside her
aime batted her eyes down to the girl, aimes dark brown, almost black, eyes met with ellies jade eyes. “oh, its just uh- a small wound from- a, from a knife, and its wrapped so it doesnt get in-infected” ellie stammered, aime watched as ellies eyes glued to the wood ground, and ellies cheecks blushed red
“that sucks,” aime started, she slid her hands that were on her right arm down to meet with ellies right hand, both of aimes hands grazing over her hand and brushing against her fingers, “i hope it heals fine” aime stood there for a few seconds, just playing with ellies fingers, “i gotta go,
group patrol starts soon, it was nice meeting you, ellie” aime smiled to her, dropping her hand and leaving, not even bothering saying goodbye to dina or jesse who stood there confused and shocked
once aime left the building, jesse and dina both looked at eachother, mouth ajar, ellie stood there, her thoughts racing over trying to figure out what just happened to her, surely she was like that with everyone?
“that was insane!” dina was the first to speak, ellie finally looked up confused, “what was?” she asked, jesse and dina looked at eachother once more, and back to ellie
“nothing, its just..” dina tried to explain but couldnt find the words, “shes never like that, i mean, her smile when she looked at you was genuine, she never smiles! and she continued the conversation? she never does, she always is super quiet” jesse explained better, “oh” was all ellie could say.
“hey, i thought you couldnt do group patrol until 16?” ellie asked, she wanted to do it but both joel and maria immediately said no. “yeah, you cant” jesse shrugged, “what? shes 16? you guys said she was our age” ellie asked confused, “no, shes 14, shes just the only one allowed to do patrol that young”
“oh, how come?”
“just is” jesse shrugged
the rest of the day ellie spent asking and asking jesse and dina questions about aime. ellie felt so intrigued by her and wanted- no, needed, to learn more about her.
the next day, after aime finished patrol, she layed on her couch, writing about a certain girl in her journal when a knock came to her door. she placed her journal down with the pen ontop, before walking over to the window, she peaked out, seeing jesse standing there, she sighed, unlocking and opening the door
“hey aimees, me, dina, and ellie were gonna hangout at my place, play card games, wanted to know if you wanna hang with, we can be as noisy as we want, my moms not home” jesse smiled
once aime heard that ellie was going, she knew she was going, but she needed to not seem suspicious. “uhh.. i dont know” she hummed, “come on, what were you even doing before?” he asked, peaking behind me, aime glanced over her shoulder looking at my journal on the table, “not much” she said with a shrug, “exactly! come on, go get your shoes on, ill be waiting, okay thanks!” jesse said, and before aime could reply, jesse grabbed the door handle and shut the front door
aime smiled, her plan working, she rushed to her bedroom, applying more lipgloss, and tying her shoes, she brushed out her hair, she kept on her pajamas, she wore a dark wine red hoodie, and black plush shorts
“jeez, took you long enough” jesse over exaggerated, “whatever, you’re lucky im going”
when aime showed up, she pretend that she didnt feel like she wanted to grab the nearest kicthen knife and repeativly stab dina in the chest. what did dina say that was so funny to make ellie grab onto her shoulder like that?
“oh! hey guys, hey aime! im glad you came!” dina smiled, aime gave a small nod with a small smile
“come on! sit, we have the cards ready!” dina exlcaimed, aime sat directly infront of ellie on the ground, jesse and dina next to me, as they started playing uno
“hey ellie” aime smiled, not bothering saying hi back to dina, everyone could already see blush forming on ellie, “hi aime” and with that they started the game
once it got really late, and dina had fallen asleep, aime decided that she and ellie were gonna leave, and they would finally be alone. aime stood up, not bothering to fix her shorts that rose up from sitting down, now exposing her ass. “its getting late, i have patrol early tomorrow, i should get going” aime said, looking down between jesse and ellie, ellie stood up too, “yeah, joel wanted me home by 10” ellie fidgeted her fingers looking at jesse and dina, they were both leaned against the couch still on the ground, dina asleep with her head on his shoulder
“all good, im getting pretty tired too, see you guys tomorrow, get home safe” jesse waved bye, aime nodded and turned around to leave,
knowing ellie was following behind her
ellie trailed behind aime, her eyes trailing to the loose hem of the girls shorts, she could feel her face getting hot
aime could feel ellies eyes on her, so she peaked over her shoulders, smirking to herself once she saw ellies eyes flicker around back to the ground as she pretending like she wasnt looking
aime stopped walking, waiting till ellie caught up to her until they were side by side
ellie kept her eyes on the ground, feeling embarrassed, knowing the aime had saw her looking. aime stared into the girls eyes
“has anyone ever told you that you have the prettiest eyes in the whole existence?” aime asked softly, ellies face grew even hotter, she took at least 30 seconds to reply as her brain malfunctioned. “no” ellie said softly, “oh, well you do, i could just look at them forever, theyre so easy to get lost in” aime continued, knowing it was making ellie incredibly flustered
“i- thank you..” ellie said in just above a whisper, about a minute pasted before ellie spoke up, “you have really pretty eyes too”
“thank you, ellie” aime smiled, ellie finally looked back up to her, smiled with her
after that, they chatted and joked until ellie stopped infront of her house, “do you.. maybe wanna come in?” ellie asked, fidgeting with her fingers, aime smiled, walked closer to the girl, and grabbed her hand and connected it with hers to stop her from fidgeting. “i would love to”
and from that day on, ellie and aime became best friends, always with eachother like they were conjoined twins
but it didnt end like that
#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#the last of us#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x oc#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you
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