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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

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The Babysitter

Summary: Jared convinces Jensen to go to a bar and have a little fun, but it’s not until he’s driving the babysitter home that he gets the kind of fun he didn’t even know he wanted.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Hot Babysitter for @j3bingo

Warnings: flirting, age gap (20/41), pwp, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, oral sex (m rec), fingering, p in v.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this filth! 😘💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

“Come on, man!” Jared encouraged. “It’s been a year since your divorce. You gotta get back out there.”

“I’m not ready to date, Jar. I told you that. My focus is on my kids right now,” Jensen huffed, having lost count of how many times Jared had tried to get him to start dating.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about dating,” Jared chuckled. “I’m talking about going out to a bar, having a few drinks, maybe taking a girl home for some fun. We could go out tomorrow? I’ll be your wingman, just like old times.”

“And where am I supposed to find a babysitter with such short notice, huh? Gen’s away, so it’s not like we can ask her,” Jensen retorted.

“I’ll ask Y/N,” Jared shrugged. “Gen and I trust her completely. She’s a med student and has been watching our kids for a couple of years now.”

“I don’t know, man,” Jensen groaned.

“She’s not a complete stranger to your kids either, you know. Y/N’s watched them before, too,” Jared continued, not taking notice of his friend’s reluctance. “Come on, even if it doesn’t end in a good time between the sheets with a hot girl—which I am all for, FYI, because, dude, how long has it been?—we can at least go out, have a few beers, watch a football game. What d’ya say?”

“It has been a long time since that. And even longer since I went to a bar to watch a game,” Jensen agreed. “And the Cowboys are playing. Yeah, alright, let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Jared grinned.

“Yeah. Call Y/N and see if she’s free and doesn’t mind a couple of extra kids for the night.”

While driving to Jared’s, Jensen couldn’t help but feel excited for their night ahead. It had been so long since he’d taken any time to himself. He’d been so focused on his kids and work since the divorce and had fooled himself into thinking he was happy. He deserved to have a little fun. He still had a lot of life to live and a lot of love to give, and although he wasn’t looking to date quite yet, if someone caught his eye tonight, maybe he’d get lucky.

Jensen pulled up in the driveway, got himself and the kids out of the car, and went up to the house. With their families so close, the kids opened the Padalecki’s front door and ran straight into the house.

Chuckling, Jensen walked in after them and closed the door behind him. As he made his way down the hallway, a laugh as sweet as honey reached his ears, and he found himself straightening his posture and puffing his chest slightly.

“Hey, man,” Jared said as he walked into the kitchen, where a woman with Y/H/C hair had her back to him. “This is Y/N,” his friend continued, and when she turned around and smiled at him, Jensen’s heart skipped a beat, and everything else Jared said was lost in this stunning woman’s haze.

Y/N was hot and way out of his league, and not just because he was old enough to be her father. She was gorgeous with her big doe eyes, beautiful smile, curves in all the right places—

“Jay? You with me, man?” Jared’s voice pulls him away from his stupor and back to the two people in the room: Jared, with a concerned frown on his brow and Y/N, smirking softly at him and gently chewing on her bottom lip.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just trying to remember if I locked the door when I left,” Jensen lied.

“Okay,” Jared said, not sounding entirely convinced but seemingly letting it go. “Ready to go?”

“Sure. Thanks for this, Y/N. I appreciate you taking on another two kids for the night,” Jensen said, finally getting something out to the girl.

“It’s my pleasure,” Y/N smiled softly, and he swore he saw a little bit of flirtatiousness in her eyes.

“Thanks, man. I think this is just what I needed,” Jensen said as he and Jared got into the car to drive home. “It’s been so long since we just grabbed a beer and some wings.”

“It has,” Jared agreed. “It was nice to have my buddy back, but I gotta ask, no interest in any of the women in there? At least five had their eyes on you, man, and some of them were gorgeous.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that, but when I am, you’ll be the first to know.” It wasn’t entirely true. If Y/N were older, he’d definitely try and hit that, but he was far too old for her, and there was no chance she’d want to have sex with an old man.

They settled into a quiet ride back to Jared’s house, filled with light conversation on their plans for a day at the lake with the kids tomorrow.

Pulling into Jared’s drive for the second time that day, both men exited the vehicle and headed into the house and through to the living room.

Jensen stopped in the doorway, noticing that Y/N was watching a movie, her hair pulled back in a messy knot on top of her head, teasing him with her bare, unblemished neck that he wanted to cover in his marks.

He needed to get a grip of himself. And he definitely needed to dig out his favourite porn videos and carve out a little time to take care of himself because this was ridiculous. Y/N was hot; there was no doubting that, but his fascination with her had to be because of his lack of sexual release.

“Hey,” Y/N said when she saw them. “The kids are fine. They’re all asleep in the tent we put up in the playroom.”

“Great, thanks, Y/N. They didn’t give you any trouble?” Jared checked.

“None. They were perfect, as always,” Y/N smiled as she put on her jacket, threw her backpack over her shoulder, and tucked the cash Jared had given her for babysitting into her pocket.

“Thanks again. I appreciate you coming out at short notice and giving up your weekend,” Jared smiled at the young woman.

“They’re good kids, so it’s no problem. Plus, I managed to get some studying done without my roommates being too loud,” she giggled.

“I appreciate it all the same,” Jared nodded. “Hey, man,” he added, turning his attention to Jensen. “Why don’t you leave the kids here for the night? They’re sleeping comfortably, and you’ll be over for breakfast anyway, right?”

“You sure?” Jensen checked.

“Yeah,” Jared confirmed. “No point in waking and upsetting them when they’ll be coming back here anyway.”

“Alright, thanks, Jared,” Jensen said as he slapped his friend on the back, his mind already drifting to those porn videos. “Y/N, do you need a ride home? I didn’t see a car out there, and it’s the least I can do.”

“Sure. Thank you, Jensen,” Y/N replied, a shy smirk pulling at lips.

“How was your night?” Y/N asked as they climbed into his car.

“Good. It’s been a while since I just went for a beer with a friend,” Jensen replied.

“So it was just a drink with a friend? No ladies on your radar? Jared made it sound like you were out on the prowl, and he needed to be your wingman!” Y/N grinned at him.

“Uh, there were a few pretty girls, sure, but I’m not looking for that right now.”

“That’s a shame. I would’ve done anything to get a handsome guy like you to go home with me,” Y/N grinned wider, giggling when his head snapped towards her with his eyebrows practically hitting his hairline.

“Sweetheart, I’m old enough to be your dad!” Jensen spluttered.

“I don’t mind older men. In fact, I prefer them… Daddy,” Y/N looked at him and batted her lashes.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jensen gasped. He couldn’t believe she wanted him. “We can’t.” It was a weak attempt, but he needed to at least look like he was trying to turn down his best friend’s hot babysitter.

“But why, Daddy? Don’t you want me? Was I a bad girl?” she pouted and slid her hand into his lap, palming his hard cock through his denims.

“Shit! We’re really doing this?” Jensen groaned when she squeezed his erection, and she nodded her head.

“If you want to,” Y/N said, dropping her act. “If not, you can drive me home, and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if you want me, I’m yours.”

Jensen was speechless. An incredibly attractive twenty-year-old woman was in his car, calling him Daddy, making his dick harder than it had ever been, and offering herself to him on a platter. He must’ve died and gone to heaven.

“I want you, Y/N. Fuck, I’d be crazy not to. You’re fucking perfect,” Jensen said, looking into her eyes and making sure she heard him. He chuckled when her face lit up at his praise, noting that not only did this girl have a daddy kink, which he’d happily indulge her with, but a praise kink, too.

“Then let’s go home, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl,” Jensen praised, watching Y/N undo his belt and pants and pull his stiff cock from his boxers. “Open up, sweetheart, let Daddy in.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open, and he groaned at the sight. “That’s it, baby girl,” he praised again, pushing himself between her plump lips.

Jensen moaned deep and long as she timidly closed her lips around him and sucked, gently rubbing her tongue over his leaking slit.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so good at that. You love sucking daddy’s cock, huh?” Jensen groaned when she nodded. “Yeah, I know you do, baby girl. Come on, I know you can take more than that.”

Y/N moaned around him, taking more of his cock down her throat, gagging on his length.

“Fuck, yeah, baby girl. Just like that. So good for your daddy, huh? Are you Daddy’s good little girl?” Jensen grunted as he pushed a little deeper.

“Yes, Daddy,” she gasped as he pulled himself from her throat and grabbed her chin, squeezing gently and running his fingers over her spit-slick lips.

“Do you need Daddy to help you undress, or are you a big girl that can do it herself?”

“I can do it, Daddy,” Y/N said as she quickly stripped out of her clothes.

Jensen groaned as his hands skimmed over her perfect, perky breasts and down her taut stomach. “You’re so perfect, baby girl. Daddy loves this beautiful body,” Jensen rasped. “Get up on the bed, sweetheart, and spread those pretty little legs. Let Daddy get a good look at you.”

Y/N climbed on his bed and crawled towards the headboard. Laying down, she spread her legs wide and smirked at Jensen’s deep groan.

“Good girl,” he praised as he crawled up the bed, caressed his hands over her thighs, pushed them apart and lowered his head to her hot, wet centre. “Fucking delicious,” he groaned, licking from the bottom of her slit to the top.

Pushing through her folds, he moaned when her slick pooled on his tongue, and he quickly lapped it up, licking and sucking and thrusting his wet muscle into her tight, dripping hole.

He moved to her clit, licking and sucking on the tiny bud while his fingers toyed with her entrance, circling it gently before slipping one inside.

“So fucking tight, baby girl,” Jensen grunted against her clit. “Gonna need to loosen you up before you can take Daddy’s big cock in your tight little pussy.” He added another finger and curled them upwards, rubbing against her sweet spot over and over.

“Daddy!” Y/N gasped, grinding her hips down on his fingers desperately.

“What is it, baby?” Jensen asked, looking up between her legs and seeing her desperate little pout. “Is Daddy making you feel good?”

“Yes! More, Daddy, please!” she begged.

“Oh, you sound so pretty when you beg, baby girl, and you know Daddy can’t resist when you beg.” He pulled his fingers from her and sucked her juices from them with a hum before crawling up her body and caging her beneath him.

“Please!” she mumbled again, and Jensen couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Alright, since my little princess begged so prettily, she can have Daddy’s cock in her sweet, tight, perfect little pussy,” Jensen growled and pushed his hips forward.

Y/N’s brow furrowed in pleasure with every inch he pushed inside her. When his hips met hers, and he couldn’t go any further, he groaned deeply at the feel of her tight cunt, stretching and fluttering to accommodate his intrusion.

“Fuck!” Jensen roared. “You feel so good, baby girl. So fucking tight and perfect for Daddy, fuck!” He pulled back his hips and slammed forward again, placing his hand on her stomach and pushing down gently, groaning lowly as he felt himself move inside her.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and her hips moved with his. “Fuck, Daddy! You’re so big. Feel so good, so full,” she moaned.

“Yeah? That’s because this little pussy was made just for me, sweetheart.” He’d never felt a pussy so good, and the daddy roleplaying they were doing made everything ten times hotter. “Who owns this sweet little pussy, baby girl?”

“You do, Daddy,” Y/N whined.

“That’s right, Daddy owns it. It’s mine,” he grunted with every jerk of his hips, and when Y/N’s orgasm hit, Jensen stalled his movements, holding himself inside her as her tight walls squeezed and pulsed around his cock.

“Fuck, baby girl! You feel so fucking good. I’m gonna come, sweetheart. You want Daddy’s come, huh?” Jensen chuckled as Y/N nodded desperately.

“Yeah? Where do you want Daddy to come?” he gasped, pulling his hips back and pounding roughly into her still-quivering heat.

“Inside me, Daddy, please! I need it!” Y/N whined. Jensen groaned loudly, pushing himself as far in as he could, and came hard, resting against her cervix.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped when he finally regained his senses and pulled his spent and softening cock from her satiated hole. “That was hot, sweetheart, and something I’d be up for more of with you.”

“It was,” she agreed with a giggle. “Unexpected, but hot, and something I definitely want to do with you again.”

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#j3bingo #the babysitter #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles smut

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taintandviolent · 1 year

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Ouija Board (Tate Langdon x Reader)

Summary: You have a sleepover at your new house, and your friend decides to bring out your Ouija board. But, you’re all teenage girls, so the questions are completely unhinged and un-serious. But, the ghost you’re talking to takes full advantage of the situation. It’s a perfect opportunity, he’s been watching for you weeks. You’re living in his room, afterall.

warnings: 2.9k words -- self insert! female receiving. shameless smut. post-death Tate, ghost sex, cunnilingus, handjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mention of ghosts/death.

Ao3 link here! Full fic below the cut! 18+.

tagged: @zabelcolin @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @r-3tro @twinkiemaximoff @milkovich-misfit {dm/ask to be added!}

It was the third week in the new house.

It was the first time that you actually felt at home. Somehow, you’d managed to make two friends from school, which was equally as shocking to you as it was to your parents. In previous schools, you’d always been on the outskirts, bored stiff at the idea of socialising. When you’d announced to your dad at dinner that you’d actually braved the choppy shores of friendship, he’d nearly choked on his coffee.

“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you invite them over for dinner tonight?” Your mom asked, setting her mug down on the table. You rocked your foot back and forth, mulling over the idea. Previously, your days off from school had been spent unpacking and checking around corners, listening to the creaking and whining of an old house.

Your mother was delighted with its age, commenting on the Tiffany glass and wood — but you felt things that had rotted underneath the wood. Things that whispered when your back was turned, or lingered in the kitchen when you went for a glass of water in the middle of the night.

“Okay, sure.”

So that night, instead of flicking the light switch off in your bathroom and making a beeline for your bedroom, you sat on the floor with Jessica, Angie, a dish of pizza rolls and three glasses of grape soda.

You swallowed the mouthful, and nodded. “No, I’m serious. This house is weird. The first week I was here, in the kitchen… I saw a blonde lady with a hole in the back of her head.”

Jessica snapped the book she was leafing through, and turned. “I bet she was murdered. Don’t you have an Ouija board?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, pointing towards the bookcase. “Never used it, though.”

“You’re going to. This is much more fun than going to Town Hall and asking for records on previous owners. Sometimes, they don’t include death certificates — which is obviously what everyone is interested in. That’s the good stuff.” It took all of three minutes for Jessica to set it up. In unison, the three of you delicately placed two fingers on the planchette.

“Okay… so, what do we ask?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, thinking.

“Is there anyone here with us?” You blurted out.

The planchette skidded to life, circling in the middle of the board. You’d seen it happen in movies, but the actual sensation was an unsettling one. YES. You all exchanged looks, searching for any guilty expressions — but it seemed that none of you had opted to play any tricks. The planchette had moved by itself.

“Did you die here?” Angie asked.

YES.

Jessica gasped. “Ooooh, what if it’s a cute ghost boy like in Casper? Can I keep you?”

Completely enrapt with the idea, she turned her attention to the board, and asked, “Is the spirit in this room male?”

YES.

“Well, that rules out Miss Hole in her Head.” You cleared your throat, focusing on the printed letters. “Have you been the one in my room every night?”

“The one in your room every night?!” Jessica hissed, shooting a pointed look at you. You shrugged apologetically. Angie, who was visibly uneasy with the entire idea, almost fell backwards when the spirit answered.

YES.

“Oh my god!?” Jessica hung her head between her arms, laughing. “It’s probably some old grandpa with a shrimp dick, let’s be real here.”

“Bet. I’ll find out. Do you have a big dick, Mr. Ghost?” You asked.

Again, the planchette zipped to YES. Whoever he was, he didn’t hesitate. Cute. The three of you howled, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. Angie desperately tried to redirect the conversation by asking the ghost what it wanted. The planchette spelled out HER.

Jessica lifted her fingers, and Angie screeched at her to return them. “If you don’t say goodbye, the spirit will have an open invitation to come into you!”

“To come!?” Jessica mocked. “To come into me?! Oh, the horror — don’t come into me! Pull out first, Ghost.”

Angie scowled. “You’re so gross.”

As they bickered, you stared at the planchette. It was still active, despite Angie and Jessica’s attention being pulled away. It quivered back and forth, as though it was shaking nervously.

Once Jessica’s wandering mind had been reigned back in, the three of you managed a few more more questions; some about murder, some about occult, and some about other ghosts in the house. Eventually, the sun disappeared from your window, plunging your room into darkness, and your mother called the three of you down to eat. Your friends stayed for about an hour after dinner, and they’d seemingly forgotten about the Ouija board. You hadn’t, though. You leaned your back against the door, the coldness of the glass piercing through your cotton shirt. Your eyes trailed up the staircase, following the bend of the bannister as it curved to the left. Before you made your way upstairs to ready yourself for bed, you craned your neck down the hall, trying to listen for the whispers.

You sat upright in your bed, gasping for air. The book clutched in your hand fell to the floor with a thud. You hadn’t even really remembered falling asleep, but the creak of your floorboards had woken you up. You were met with nothing but the silence and glittering darkness of the room while your eyes adjusted. Eventually, the speckles turned into furniture pieces; your dresser, your mirror, your bookcase… everything seemed in order. The clock on your bedside table incessantly blinked 2:34 AM.

Something skidded across the floor, a spinning blur of tan and black. You yelped, throwing yourself up against your headboard. Your room was silent save for that sound of something hard scooting against a flat surface. You took a deep breath, and crept forward gingerly, wincing each time your mattress creaked.

You gripped the edge of your bed frame tightly, knuckles paling. You peered over. In the middle of the floor where you’d been sitting earlier, the Ouija board was laid out. The planchette swept across the board as it had earlier, but this time with no hands to guide it. It zipped across the board aggressively, as though it was trying to get your attention.

“Hello?”

The triangle paused, then slowly drifted to hello.

Dumbfounded, your mouth opened and closed. You were at a loss — because no horror movie had ever given you any idea how to politely hold a conversation with a spirit outside of the traditional setting.

“Um…. can I… help you? Are you here to possess me?”

Stupid. That was stupid.

Watching as the planchette swept across the board, you read the letters allowed.

“L…A…Y…. Lay? Lay. Okay. B…A…C…K? Lay back?” You waited for further confirmation, but the planchette stayed still for a moment.

It started spinning again, quickly spelling out a final instruction. “Close my eyes. Lay back and close my…. eyes.”

You heaved a sigh, and against your better judgement, you did. You shimmied back underneath the covers, pulling them up to your chest, and waited. The seconds were excruciating, and you were sure some horror movie had to have started like this.

The duvet rustled at the bottom of the bed, and all at once, a gust of cold air hit your feet. The mattress gave to the weight of someone, and you yelped at the feeling of clothed shoulders nestling in between your thighs.

A broad hand ghosted across your stomach, fiddling the scalloped edge of your pyjama shorts. It swooped into your inner thigh, then circled down along your knee. Though the actions were soft, you couldn’t help but feel the knot forming in your stomach. Letting out a soft whimper, you bit your lip, clamping down hard. One hand slid up, caressing the curve of your ribs. You writhed. “You’re driving me insane…” you whispered harshly. Had you really been that touch starved?

Lips hovered over your inner thigh, the hot breath washing over the warm skin. A single finger ran along the inside, trailing further and further up. He slowed as he neared you, wordlessly asking for permission.

“Please,” you begged, doing everything you could not to scoot your hips down into him and embarrass yourself any further. “Please…”

He continued. The pad of his finger floated over you, stroking, teasing until the wetness soaked through the threads. The hands disappeared, but only to return to the sides, where they gripped the waistband, tugging them softly off your hips.

You took a deep breath and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth, muffling the shrill whine that tried to escape. Whoever he was, lapped at your cunt like it was a melting ice cream cone, and it didn’t take long for it to start weeping, soaking the green sheets beneath you.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, and your eyelids fluttered, overwhelmed with the sensation. Everything was white and on fire. Your thighs trembled deep within the muscle with every flick of his tongue. Were you really getting eaten out by a ghost? Was that actually happening? You felt silly acknowledging that. His tongue flattened out against your clit and you let out a whine, erasing every other thought. He pressed his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue flicking at the underside of your clit.

“Fffffuck, oh my god.”

You had to know. You swallowed, and tightened your lips into a thin line. You were ready for whatever horrifying visual would meet you. With one final surge of courage, you flipped the covers up, opened your eyes and gazed into the tented darkness. A head of soft, blonde curls bobbed softly between your legs.

“HELLO?!” It wasn’t a greeting, but the boy lifted his head from your cunt. Two dark eyes glimmered at you from beneath the duvet.

“Hey,” he said, chin glistening. “I’m Tate. I used to live here.”

“You’re so…. cute?”

He smiled crookedly, the dimples in his cheek deepening. “Were you expecting Freddy Krueger or something?”

Your head fell back on the pillow like an anvil and a breathy laugh broke your pants. “Yeah, maybe. Jesus Christ…. I don’t know. I’ve never had a ghost between my legs.”

“You liked it. You’re so wet.” He was pleased with himself, you could tell. Reaching one finger up to stroke your opening, he angled his head to watch the way you clenched and squirmed at his touch.

“Was I… were you the one I was talking to with my friends?” He nodded. He shifted his weight, manoeuvring himself up until he was above you, supporting himself with hands on either side of your neck.

“I’ve been watching you since you moved in, Y/N… I didn’t want to scare you away.” He confessed, searching your face. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”

You were scrambling to keep your thoughts in one manageable bundle. On one hand, this scenario was insane and you were sick to be enjoying it. On the other… sure, he was dead, but he was easily one of the cutest boys you’d ever seen and the way he wanted you was intoxicating. His dark eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. You craned your neck up to meet him, pressing into his plush, pink lips.

You’d never been one of those boy crazy teenagers, but you understood the cathartic release that sex brought. It was carnal and natural. You’d only ever slept with one other person, so the hunger was never sated, and you were left quietly fingering yourself after your parents fell asleep. Every time you’d had the chance to have made out with someone though, you tasted them. Deeply. Kissing someone released their scent, the one that only intimate partners got. And none of them had ever been as heady and addictive as Tate was. You tilted your head to get further into his waiting mouth, swirling your tongue with his. You whimpered, sending a moan down his throat.

You reached under, sliding your hands down his stomach. The tiniest trail of hair guided you to the waistband of his jeans, where you made quick work of the buttons. Breaking the kiss only to help with scooting his jeans over the curve of his ass, Tate quickly returned his lips against yours, his tongue moving past your lips eagerly.

Although you were going in blind, it wasn’t difficult to find his cock. Not only did it take up most of the space between you two, but it was hot to the touch, the heat radiating from beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You pressed your hand against him, getting an idea for the length.

“Huh. So, you weren’t lying about that.” Tate’s hips ground against your palm in response. You reached up, flipping the elastic down so you could slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along the soft tip. Your palm was immediately slick with his precum; the thick fluid coated the soft skin. You used your thumb to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges. He groaned, burying his face into your neck.

“I didn’t lie about anything you asked me.”

You began stroking him underneath the sheets in slow, full movements and Tate’s breathing hitched, hips bucking forward involuntarily. You sped up, feeling warm droplets dribble onto your exposed tummy. Your thumb pressed into the squishy flesh of his head, not expecting the reaction that followed.

“Mm-uh—please. Please, I want you. Please.” He was begging, whining, and his big brown eyes were filled with a pathetic yearning that made your walls soak even further.

“So do it.”

He wasted no time in completing your demand. He sat up, the covers falling off his back.Tate gripped himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lined himself up, pressing his hot, leaking tip into your entrance. Snatching the opportunity from him, you bucked your hips up to his, forcing his cock inside. You clenched around him hungrily and Tate let out a throaty whine as he pushed the remaining length into you.

He started out slow, taking his time as he slid in and out of you, but the slick pull of your walls each time he slid out unravelled his concentration. Each thrust seemed a little more desperate than the last, his balls slapping against you, splashing the mixture of his spit and your cum against your inner thighs. Bottoming out inside of you, he arched his neck backwards, letting it hang heavy. “Are you a virgin?”

“Wha — no.” You breathed, adjusting your head on the pillow to look at him. Odd question to ask in the middle of the deed. “Why?”

Tate swallowed, and between pants, said, “Because…. you’re so wet.” He dropped forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock was still inside, the girth hitting you at a new angle, and the fullness made your stomach clench.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, okay? Tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nodded fervidly, and slithered your hands underneath his sweat-soaked shirt until it gathered. Tate lifted his arms, and allowed you to slip the shirt over them. You tossed it towards the edge of the bed, and raked your nails along his naked chest.

“Please.” It was your turn to beg. Tate backed his hips out, pulling himself from your warmth. “I want it.”

He dropped back down to his hands, getting a tight grip on the mattress behind you. His lips met yours again, hungrily. It provided only a momentary distraction, because the second that Tate started pounding into you, you could focus on nothing else — except suppressing your aroused screams. He scooted closer to you on the bed, angling himself to get deeper.

He was hitting every spot he could, and your breaths quickened as he fucked you closer to the edge. You bit down on your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He had just started, and you were already about to lose it.

“Are you gonna’ cum? Huh?” Tate asked, now struggling to keep his rhythm. If you were close, he seemed to be closer — and you didn’t feel so bad. Tate reached down, pulling himself out to slide the tip of his cock over your clit a few times before stuffing it back in. Your lips parted in a soundless scream as you felt the unmistakable warmth filling you, the quivering in your legs, and the desperate, spasming arch of your back.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tate chanted, feeling your orgasm as it gripped him in a wet, pulsing chokehold. “Fuck!”

As he spilled into you, Tate fell atop of your body, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. His hips were on autopilot, erratically bucking with each gush. You winced, on the verge of overstimulation. Gradually, his thrusts slowed.

He flopped over on the side of you, one hand stroking the outside of your thigh delicately. He was gazing at you dreamily when you turned to face him.

“So, do I have to bring out the Ouija board each time I want to see you?”

Tate propped his head up on his hand. “You want to see me again?”

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, a taunting smile curling around your swollen lips. “Uhhh… yeah.”

“I can be here every night if you want.” He purred.

“Haven’t you been anyway? Or did you lie about that?”

Tate’s brows pulled upwards, looking hurt. “I told you — I didn’t lie about anything! I’d never lie to you!”

“Okay, shh —“ You silenced him with your lips. “I’ll be right back. I have to pee.”

For the first time since you’d moved in, you weren’t afraid of ghosts as you walked to the bathroom. You were just afraid that the one in your bedroom would be gone when you got back.

He wasn’t, though.

#Tate Langdon #American Horror Story #ahs murder house #tate langdon smut #ahs smut #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x yn #myfics #fanfiction #ahs fanfiction

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lukesandromeda · 24 days

Text

for them. l castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of athena!reader

summary: the scene in tlo where luke returns home.

a/n: i think a lot about being on the road with luke and i know it was probably the worse experience on the world sooooooo obviously i have to do something with these thoughts

probably part one of a series

there was a cut on your right shoulder, annabeth was complaining about how bad her feet hurt, and thalia wouldn’t stop sending tense glares to everyone.

“can you stop looking at me like that? i didn’t do anything.” luke growled. the four of you were walking down an alleyway a few miles into manhattan, tripping over your own sore feet. each of your weapons were still drawn, having just escaped the hellhound that’d chased you only two minutes ago.

“didn’t do anything my ass,” thalia barked. “you’re the one who insisted we fight the dog, and now my signed green day poster is chewed up in his stomach. thanks a lot, luke.”

“nobody cares about your stupid poster, thalia,” luke protested.

“obviously, i do!”

“why is that what you’re worried about? you’ve got a big gash in your leg and you’re fussing about a poster.”

annabeth looked between the two before moving closer to you, hiding her face in your arm.

“stop it, guys, shut up,” you hissed. “you’re scaring her.”

thalia went to speak, but luke kept his mouth shut after muttering a quick, sorry annabeth.

you let out a little sigh before looking at the watch on your arm. you cursed. “it’s getting late, guys.”

when neither thalia or luke answered as they kept walking, you cleared your throat and spoke again, “should we make camp?”

“we’re not stopping,” the boy said coldly, causing both thalia and you to quit walking. annabeth bumped into your arm when you stopped, and she craned her head up to look at luke.

“what?”

“i want to make it out of connecticut by the end of tomorrow,” luke said. “and it’ll only hold us back if we sleep an entire night.”

“i’m tired,” annabeth whined, gripping your shirt. you sighed before bending down to pick her up, carrying her in your right arm as you looked over at luke who stared at the little girl before she said, “i want to sleep.”

thalia hissed, and you looked over to see her falling to the ground as she desperately gripped her own leg. “shit.”

you looked at luke as both of you stopped walking. the two of you were the only people well and healthy enough at the moment to make the decision. he pursed his lips.

“where can we go?” you asked.

“i—i… we—shit. we can’t,” luke spluttered.

“where?”

he bit his lip. “we…shit.”

“speak, luke.”

he grunted. “we’re only a few miles from my house.”

“yes,” you said immediately. “we have to. we don’t have a choice.”

“but i really don’t—”

“luke, do it for them.”

he huffed, eyes avoiding your gaze as he looked at thalia, who was cursing as she wrapped the sleeve of her jacket around the wound on her thigh.

“please,” you begged, desperately tugging on the sleeve of his ragged shirt.

he let out a breath of air through his teeth before he moved out of your grip. “fine. come on.”

as the two of you started to walk again, annabeth still on your arm, thalia stood and limped after you.

the few minutes of walking was getting painful for you, and you walk became laggard as you followed the vigorous boy ahead of you. “slow down.”

he slowed at your request, muttering something under his breath.

“wait, wait, shit,” you chanted as your knees buckled. luke senses you were falling and he took annabeth from your arms as you caught yourself and moved to sit on the ground, clutching your stomach and breathing heavily.

“what? what is it?” luke asked, kneeling down. he placed a hand to your forehead after brushing the hair that was there out of the way.

“i can’t—i can’t breathe.” you panted, looking up at him only in a bit of a struggle.

he grunted before reaching behind him to grab his flash of water and pressing it to your lips. “drink.”

you sipped, choking on your spit as it mixed with the water and poured down your throat. it did help a little, you admitted to yourself as luke pulled away and brushed some hair out of your face. “you okay?”

“we need to find your house,” you whined.

“don’t worry, i know where to go,” he hummed, standing and holding out his hand.

you grabbed it, and thalia followed you, who followed luke with annabeth still in his arms. the walk was dreadful until eventually you approached a hill.

after a torturous hike up the steep ridge, you gasped in relief at the sight of a house.

“there,” luke whispered. his breath seemed to catch a bit as he froze at the sight of his house.

“it’s beautiful,” you gasped, but you shook your head and followed him when he started walking again. “thalia, you okay?”

“‘m fine.” she groaned, and you could hear her feet hitting the ground aggressively as she continued to limp.

the closer to the house you got, the more the anxiety creeped up on you. standing a few feet away from the house, you heard a loud voice saying, you shouldn’t have come back.

“uh, luke?” you said nervously. “what does that—”

“i don’t know, but we’re not turning back,” he said quickly. he walked over to the garage door and put a code into the box. it opened.

nervously, you followed him into the house. it was quiet, but the inside was beautiful, aside from the odd decorations. there were stuffed animals of monsters. medusa, the minotaur, hellhounds, the furies, even—

luke stopped, and your face smashed against his back. he put annabeth down, and you peered around him to see what he was looking at.

a woman, you guessed to be his mother, was sitting across from a man—he was wearing a navy blue tracksuit. there were shoes with wings on his feet, and he was holding a phone that had two snakes coming out of it.

“dad?” luke gasped, and the two people at the table jumped and froze.

“luke? luke!” luke’s mother—may—immediately began sobbing, running to her son. she wrapped her arms around him, trapping him in a hug. her lips kissed his forehead and all over his face aggressively, but he didn’t return any of the excitement.

he was staring ahead at hermes, horror in his eyes. “dad?” he repeated.

“where were you?” may sobbed, and luke moved her off of him.

“dad.”

hermes stood, rather reluctantly. “luke,” he swallowed.

“baby, it’s your father! aren’t you happy?” may asked, but luke began charging forward.

you ran after him, grabbing him before he could reach his father. his fists were clenched so hard that his knuckles were white. “stop. no.”

eventually, you convinced yourself that luke wouldn’t do anything violent, so you let go. he stood angrily, staring at his father with so much hate you almost shrank. hermes’ eyes went to you, and you swallowed, bowing to the god. “lord hermes.”

“y/n,” hermes acknowledged.

luke was biting his lip so hard that you expected blood to trickle down his chin. he growled, “why are you here?”

“why are you here?” hermes countered.

“i didn’t want to come back,” luke snarled. may had come over to the three of you, and she frowned at this. “i did it for my family.”

“for us?” hermes questioned.

“no,” luke scoffed. “for them.” he gestured to you, and then to thalia and annabeth.

“they’re your family?”

“yes,” luke promised.

hermes clicked his tongue. “right.”

“and they’re hurt.”

with a sigh, luke’s father nodded. “well, i am the god of travelers. and you four are very much of travelers. may, get something to take care of zeus’ daughter’s cut. not sure what’s wrong with the athenians, though.”

“they’re tired,” luke said. he was being passive aggressive, you noted, but you didn’t have the energy to scold him for it.

“come with me,” hermes said.

annabeth looked up at you with worry. you swallowed. “it’s okay, annabeth. he’s luke’s dad.”

she looked down, frowning, but nodded and squeezed your hand as you led her after hermes. he brought you to a room, just you, and left annabeth alone in a different one. “wait, lord hermes,” you cried. “annabeth. she can’t… you can’t leave her alone.”

hermes smiled. “just rest, okay? worry about your sister tomorrow.”

“what about luke?”

“i mean… i… please don’t… i— please go easy on him. we’ve had a really hard day.”

hermes nodded, a thin smile across his lips as he muttered, “okay,” and left the room.

minutes passed. you are in a master bedroom, a king size bed under you. it was the first time you’d laid against an actual bed in years. it felt so good, and you should’ve been able to fall asleep immediately, but hearing the faint sounds of an argument between luke and his father downstairs made you worry.

eventually, after about thirty minutes of laying, staring at the ceiling in worry, you heard the doorknob rattle. your eyes darted to the door, where luke was walking through.

“luke?” you asked, sitting up.

he shushed you, gesturing for you to move over. you did, and he crawled into the bed next to you. you shifted uncomfortably. “what happened?”

he shook his head, running his hands through his hair. “they… they won’t stop talking about my fate.”

“your fate?”

“i don’t know what it means. i… my dad… he doesn’t love me. he tells me does, but i’m not stupid.”

you looked away. you wanted to tell him you understood, but you knew you didn’t. you couldn’t relate; athena had always answered your prayers, visited you in dreams…

“how’s your mom?” you asked softly.

“she’s having one of her fits. that’s why my dad left. as long as she doesn’t come in here, we’ll be okay.”

you nodded. he sighed. “why aren’t you asleep?”

“i just… couldn’t sleep.”

he clicked his tongue. “i’m really sorry.”

“for what?”

“i never should have dragged you into this mess. you, thalia, and annabeth would be better without me. i just… i get so angry all the time. i don’t even know how to explain it.”

you wanted to comfort him, explain to him that you didn’t think he got angry, but you’d be kidding yourself. he had such excessive wrath that he almost scared you sometimes. you settled for, “it’s okay, luke.”

“it’s not.” you looked over at him. he was sitting upright, and he looked so angry. “i hate him. i hate her, and i hate this stupid fucking situations we’re in.”

“but it’s not your fault.”

“i didn’t say it was my fault!” he yelled, and you flinched. he rolled his eyes. “yeah, alright, it’s okay. you’re flinching because of me.”

“no, no. i’m just… on edge.”

“i saw the way you bowed to my father,” he spat the word out like it was poison. it rotted in his mouth as he continued, “like you were grateful for what he’d done. you think he’s a good person? is that it?”

“no. but he’s a god. why are you being like this?”

“being like what?”

he let out air through his nose, glaring at you. you shrunk under his gaze and whispered quickly, “never mind.”

luke huffed. he stood, throwing the covers off of him and storming to the door. “get rest. we’re leaving in the morning.

your head hit the pillow, your heart clenching in your chest as your water eyes stared up at the ceiling. you closed your eyes before you wept.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke pjo #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader fluff #luke castellan x reader smut #percy jackson and the olympians #charlie bushnell x reader fluff #pjo #the last olympian #percy and annabeth #sea of monsters #pjo books #annabeth chase

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petitemistletoe · 10 months

Text

Grudges Part II

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader, Potter!Reader

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3.5K+

A/N: There is a LOT of jumping around in this one, pay attention closely to the stars that signify scene changes. The Daily Prophet article took me longer than I'd like to admit so please appreciate it. Once again, some people were not able to be tagged :( so sorry!

Grudges Part I

“This really isn’t my fight.” Lily said, looking between you and James in confusion.

“Isn’t it?” You asked, cocking your head to the side, “James and I didn’t have any problems before you came into the picture. If you weren’t around, James and I would not have fought during the match, I wouldn’t have a shoulder injury that I still suffer from today, and James would not have taken my spot with the Bats.” You crossed your arms.

✰

A deep ache in your shoulder wrenched you out of sleep. You grabbed your shoulder harshly and sighed, blinking the sleep out of your eyes. You were able to see a few rays of sun had broken the horizon, so you knew that the morning was not far off. You turned and felt around the side of the bed and realized Regulus wasn’t there. You pulled yourself out of bed and made your way down the stairs of the Black house.

Your parents were not thrilled that you were spending so much time at the Black estate with Regulus, but they figured that anything that made you happy after your shoulder injury, relationship with James, and your promise of going pro in Quidditch all shattered, there was not much they could say. Regulus’s parents were out for the weekend so you had the entire estate to yourselves. The place was creepy, to say the least, and Regulus had promised that you two were going to move into somewhere much nicer and happier once the two of you graduated.

You were on the stairs, rubbing your eyes and thinking about making a nice cup of tea when you heard Regulus whispering to someone. You stopped on the stairs and listened for a moment.

“This isn’t going to go over well.” Regulus sighed.

“I tried to tell him not to. That it would only make things worse, but, he wouldn’t listen to me. And can you blame him? It’s an unbeatable opportunity.” The other voice said.

“For someone who wants to reconcile, he’s really driving the knife in.” Regulus said bitterly.

“There’s nothing I can do. Remus and I already said our piece.” The voice mirrored Regulus’s sigh. It must have been Sirius. You made your way down the staircase and saw Regulus and Sirius sitting at the kitchen table while Kreacher grumbled over with a tray of tea.

“Blood traitor in the Black house.” Kreacher growling, slamming the tray on the table and glaring at Sirius.

“Go away you disgusting rat.” Sirius brushed Kreacher off with wave of his hands.

“Milk and sugar, Kreacher.” Regulus ordered.

“Sirius, what are you doing here?” You asked, taking a seat at the table next to Regulus.

“Hey, surprised to see you up, it’s early.” Sirius said with a nervous smile.

“My shoulder hurt. What are you doing here?” You pressed.

“I was just telling Regulus some news.” Sirius chewed at his thumbnail.

“What is he talking about, Regulus?” You turned to Regulus.

“James Potter has taken your position with the Ballycastle Bats.” Kreacher said, setting down the milk and sugar on the table.

“You foul little roach.” Sirius roared, sending a couple of a shocking hexes Kreacher’s way. Kreacher was able to dodge all but one, which zapped him in the elbow. He rubbed his elbow ruefully and glared at Sirius before disappearing down a dark corner.

“James took my Ballycastle offer?” You blinked.

“I’m so sorry, love.” Regulus bowed his head.

“That makes complete sense.” You nodded.

“Remus and I tried to tell him not to.” Sirius grabbed at your hand but you snatched it back.

“No, no that makes sense. It’s a great opportunity. I would know.” You shook your head. “You should probably go, Sirius.” Regulus said quietly.

“Sirius will you pass on a message to James for me?” You asked.

“Of course.” Sirius said with wide eyes.

“Tell him that I hope he drops dead.”

✰

“I want you to know that I told James not to take the position.” Lily said with her head bowed.

“You expect me to believe that?” You said, crossing your arms across your chest.

“It’s true,” Remus insisted. “Give her your memory, Lily. We have a pensieve.”

“I don’t need that.” You started but Lily had already pulled the silvery memory from her temple as the pensieve pulled itself from its closet.

✰

“How’d it go?” Lily asked as James slammed the front door shut.

“Terrible.” James said, dropping onto the couch and putting his head in his hands. Lily sat next to him and rubbed his back for a few minutes.

“Is she going to be alright?”

“She’ll survive. But she’ll never ever play quidditch again. Her shoulder is completely fucked and it’s all my fault.” James released a shaky sigh.

“Oh James, she’s your cousin, I’m sure she’ll forgive you. It just takes time, okay.” Lily said. James only nodded, crying in Lily’s arms for a few moments. There was an owl at the front window, carrying a rather large package on its back and pecking harshly. Lily stood and retrieved the package, placing a sickle in the owl’s claw before it flew off.

“What is it?” James asked, rubbing his nose harshly.

“It’s for you.” Lily said, placing the package in front of him. James tore through the package and gasped. It was your broom, in shambles, with the hilt of the broom covered in your blood.

“Oh my God,” James pressed his fingers over his mouth to stop himself from retching.

“Is that her broom?” Lily asked, her own fingers shaking.

“Yeah it is. It’s the broom I bought her for her fifteenth birthday.” James said, studying the inscription on the hilt. The gold lettering was splattered in dark red blood.

“Okay,” Lily pushed the package out of James’s hands, “she’s very, very angry. But we need to remember that she’s been hurt. Badly.”

“She goaded me into it.” James said, standing and making an angry circle around the couch.

“Goaded you into what?” Lily asked.

“Pulling her broom. She could’ve hurt me just as easily and she said all those foul things about you. She was goading me.” James spat.

“James, she’s the one that’s injured. She was a fantastic player and she’s lost everything now because of that game. Isn’t that punishment enough?” Lily knit her eyebrows. James was going to respond but another owl was at the window. He unrolled the parchment and grit his teeth.

“It’s the scout from the Ballycastle Bats. Now that the chaser position is free they want me to sign. It’s a five year contract, handsome salary plus benefits.” James said, studying the parchment.

“Surely you aren’t thinking of taking it?” Lily stood too.

“Lily, this is my opportunity to go pro. We’d be set for life.”

“James,” Lily was shocked, “you will lose your cousin forever. You can’t take this job.”

“You can’t stop me.” James said, narrowing his eyes, “listen, Lily, I chose you. I sacrificed everything for you.”

“You’re prepared to lose your cousin forever?” Lily asked.

“She’s made that decision for herself.” James said, setting the blood soaked broom hilt on top of the contract.

✰

“Oh my God. This whole time I’ve been hating Lily. But it’s you.” You said, pulling your head out of the pensieve.

“Listen-”

“It was you!” You shoved James back harshly, “And you had the audacity to try and come and beg my forgiveness. Own up it to, James.”

“It was me. But you know you would’ve taken the position too if you were in my shoes.” James said.

“Oh come on, mate, what kind of apology was that?” Remus shook his head.

“I have some memories of my own I’d like you all to see,” Regulus said, pulling his memories and casting them into the pensieve.

✰

“How are you feeling, love?” Regulus called as he shut the door behind.

“Gigantic.” You said, waddling in and resting a hand on your swollen stomach. You were due any day now and were feeling the full effect of nine long months of pregnancy.

“I know, love, I’m so sorry.” Regulus sat with you on the couch and pulled one of your aching feet onto his lap and massaging it.

“Why did I let you get me pregnant! It’s your fault that I’m due in August!” You groaned.

“I know, love. You are really, really sweaty. It’s been a viciously hot summer.” Regulus said.

“I know.” You fanned yourself with your hand.

“I mean, seriously,” Regulus laughed, “did you piss yourself or is this just sweat?”

“What are you talking about-” You felt a tight pain coil through your body, “Regulus, it isn’t piss or sweat. My water just broke.”

“Oh my God.” Regulus shot up. “We need to get you to St. Mungo’s!”

“We can’t!” You grabbed at your stomach and groaned, “I don’t think there’s time.”

“I’m going to get Remus.” Regulus disappeared. In reality, it had been less than five minutes but it felt like an eternity. Your contractions were dangerously close and you practically sobbed with relief when you saw Remus and Sirius enter your house with Regulus.

“You’re in labor? Already? We need to get you to the hospital.” Sirius said, helping you off the couch and onto the ground where Regulus had spread blankets down for you.

“How far apart are your contractions?” Regulus asked.

“Two minutes.” You said, gritting your teeth as another contraction washed over you.

“We can’t get to a hospital. If we try to go now, we run the risk of splinching ourselves.” Remus said as he knelt down to your level and held your hand.

“Should I fetch Marlene?” Sirius asked.

“No,” Remus shook his head, “she’s with…Lily.”

“Lily had her baby?” You asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“Yesterday, a boy named Harry.” Remus said with a tight smile.

“Harry. That was my father’s name.” It was quiet and then threw your head back in pain again, “so what are we going to do now?”

“I sent an owl for a healer but…I think we’re going to have to figure this out on our own.” Regulus grabbed your other hand and brushed your hair from your forehead.

Your labor was short, too short, and the baby had come just as the healer had arrived.

“Look at you,” Regulus said, cradling Celeste in his arms, “your mummy did it. She’s the strongest person alive.” Regulus grinned up at you and you smiled back tiredly at him, your body was slick with sweat.

“Mr. Black, send for three more healers. Tell them I sent you.” The healer commanded, taking a deep breath and he poked through his potion bag.

“Go Sirius.” Regulus commanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Your wife is losing a lot of blood.” The healer said. Sirius was back within the minute with three other healers. One took Celeste from Regulus’s arms and began making sure that she was alright. The other healers helped lift you from the floor and move you onto a hospital bed. Regulus saw only then that there was a pool of blood underneath you. The healers worked tirelessly and you grabbed Regulus’s hand tightly.

“Regulus, there’s a folder with all the important documents in the bottom drawer of the desk in the study.” You began.

“Don’t talk like that,” Regulus said, biting back tears, “it’ll all be alright.”

“You have to tell Celeste that I love her.” There were tears running down your own cheeks.

“You will tell her yourself, darling.” Regulus placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“Will you do something for me?” You asked.

“Anything,” Regulus nodded.

“I want James,” you cried, “get James please.”

“I will.” Regulus nodded. “Sirius, come take over. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Regulus took a deep breath as he apparated to the front door of the Potter house. It had been a very long time since he had been to Godric’s Hollow. He knocked on the door, softly.

It was Effie Potter who came to the door, a large grin on her face as she opened it. Her smile faltered before she cleared her throat and said,

“Regulus, hello dear. Is everything alright?”

“Is…is James there? I need to talk to him.”

“Did-” Effie stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath to hide her eagerness, “did she have the baby?”

“I need to talk to James, Mrs. Potter. Please.” Regulus begged. Effie gestured for Regulus to come in and then disappeared for a moment. She returned with James in tow. James was beaming, with bright red cheeks and messy hair. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, when he saw Regulus.

“What are you doing here?” James asked, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Congratulations…on the baby.” Regulus said, swallowing harshly.

“Is this about her?” James pursed his lips when he referred to you.

“She just gave birth. To a baby girl, her name is Celeste. She sort of you looks like you, James.” Regulus said. Effie’s hand jet over her mouth at the mention of Celeste.

“James’s son is named Harry.” Effie said with a smile.

“Is that all, Regulus?” James asked, his face stony.

“Celeste is fine. But…she’s sick. There are a bunch of healers taking care of her but she’s losing a lot of blood.” Regulus explained. Effie gasped and looked at James.

“So what are you doing here?” James asked.

“She’s asking for you.”

“For me?” James sounded hopeful for a moment.

“Will you come?” Regulus asked.

“No. I have to take care of my family.” James turned on his heel.

“I’ll talk to him, Regulus, just give me a few minutes.” Effie said.

“Don’t bother.” Regulus said before apparating back home. The first thing he saw when he reentered his house were the healers packing up their tools.

“What happened?” Regulus said, a rush of stress washing over him.

“She’s fine now, stable but sleepy.” One of the healers patted Regulus on the shoulder, “Congrats Dad.”

Regulus made his way back to the living room, where you were snuggled onto a bed that had moved downstairs. Celeste was sleeping in her bassinet next to your bed. Sirius had his arms wrapped around you, whispering to you as Remus prepared tea in the kitchen.

“Hello love,” Regulus took Sirius’s place next to you on the bed.

“Where were you, Reg?” You asked.

“She’s pretty sleepy and out of it,” Sirius said, flashing his eyes at Reg. Regulus nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Just was thanking the healers before they left. Go to sleep, love, it’s been a long day.” Regulus held you until you fell asleep. Then he joined Remus and Sirius in the kitchen.

“He didn’t come?” Sirius asked, a distraught look on his face.

“He said no.” Regulus shook his head.

“I can’t believe it. You told James how sick she was? How badly it looked?” Remus’s jaw dropped.

“He said he needed to stay with Lily and Harry.” Regulus wrapped his hands around his mug of tea.

“So that’s it then,” Remus said, his shoulders sagging, “their relationship is irreparable.”

Regulus cleaned up the mugs of tea as you slept peacefully. Celeste had woken up once and you had fed her before you both passed out again. Remus stayed to help around the house while Sirius went home to rest before his important meeting in the morning with the adoption agency. Remus was upstairs, assembling some baby monitors when there was a knock at the door. Regulus furrowed his brow before walking to the door.

“Oh wow.” Regulus said. It was James.

“How is she?” James asked.

“She’s alright now. Sleeping, of course.” Regulus explained.

“And the baby? Celeste, she’s doing well?”

“Yes. How’s Harry and Lily?”

“Good, good. Can I see her, Regulus?” James pleaded.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea, James.” Regulus shook his head.

“I miss her so much Regulus. I’m so so sorry for everything that I did.” James dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around Regulus’s waist. He sobbed against Regulus’s abdomen.

“I know James. I think if you try, she’ll forgive you. She misses you too.” Regulus explained.

“It’ll be different. I promise.” James said, standing up and wiping his eyes. “I’ll be back in a few days. Congratulations Regulus.”

“Congratulations to you too, James.” Regulus shook hands with James before James apparated away.

✰

“Oh my God.” Regulus gasped, dropping and shattering his glass of orange juice.

“Reg! You’re going to wake the baby!” You scolded, listening for a moment. It sounded like Celeste was still asleep so you waved your wand and cleaned up the broken glass.

“Did you see this?” Regulus pushed the newspaper towards you.

“Oh wow.” You said, staring at your hands.

“You’re the anonymous source aren’t you?” Regulus sighed.

“They were going to make him captain of the Bats, Reg. That was supposed to be my job.” You said, storming off. Regulus was going to pursue but there was a knock at the door.

“Tell her that I know what she did. I have absolutely no interest in seeing her again.” James said, throwing the newspaper at Regulus’s feet.

✰

“The prophecy speaks of a child, born in the final days of July,” Voldemort said, stalking around the room. A shiver crawled up your spine as you felt his breath on the back of your neck. Regulus had involved you in this mess long ago and now you were both working for the resistance as double agents. You wanted to stop long before the birth of Celeste but now that she was here you wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the death eaters as possible. The order had been able to find many of the horcruxes and Regulus had had quite a bit of luck destroying the locket a few years before while leaving Voldemort none the wiser.

Voldemort knew there was a spy, someone that was betraying him. He never fully trusted you, you being a Potter, but he trusted Regulus more than anything so the dark lord and his followers were usually more than civil with you.

But now Voldemort was angry about something. His voice was steely calm as he made his way around the room, trailing his long, disgusting fingers along the backs of chairs. “This child is supposed to lead to my downfall.” Voldemort paused for a moment as a collective intake of breath went around the room.

“What can we do?” Amycus Carrow asked.

“I think the more important question,” Lucius Malfoy said with a snide glare Amycus’s way, “is who is the child?”

“Severus,” Voldemort called, “would you like to answer that question?”

“It was not as specific. But there are children who fit the parameters of the prophecy.” Snape said, pursing his lips tightly.

“Who are the children?” Lucius Malfoy asked.

“So far, we know of he Longbottom boy and the Black girl.” Snape looked down at his hands.

“The Black girl?” You asked, “Are you talking about my daughter?”

“Yes, Ms. Potter, your daughter.” Voldemort said, flashing his eyes dangerously at you. He always insisted on calling you Potter, wanting to separate you from Regulus.

“Our daughter was born August first.” Regulus said, gripping your hand tightly.

“According to you. The healers did not arrive until after the baby was born.” Lucius said.

“Stop it,” Narcissa whispered, resting her hand on top of Lucius’s.

“Your daughter poses quite a threat.” Voldemort picked up his wand delicately.

“There’s another child. Born on July 31st.” You blurted out. Regulus turned to look at you pointedly.

“Who?” Voldemort asked.

“Lily and James Potter have a son. Harry.” You said, “It could be him.”

“I have underestimated you, Mrs. Black,” Voldemort said with a grin, “Harry Potter.”

✰

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Regulus screamed after you arrived home.

“He was talking about Celeste, Regulus! My daughter. Our daughter!” You said, threading your hands in your hair.

“You have to tell them. You have to warn them.” Regulus shook his head.

“I know. I know. I’ll go right now.” You apparated back. There were tears running down your cheeks as you banged on Lily and James’s door. It was Lily who answered and she took a small step back before saying,

“I am very surprised to see you.”

“Voldemort’s coming. He heard a prophecy about a child born in July who would be his downfall and he thinks its Harry.” You said quickly.

“What? Why does it think it’s Harry?” Lily asked, her eyes wide.

“Get a secret keeper. Don’t tell anyone I told you.” You apparated away before Lily could respond.

✰

“I owe you an apology,” you said.

“You…you put my entire family in danger with Voldemort, you got me kicked off of the Bats and nearly disgraced by the entire Quidditch community.” James said.

“You impaled me with my broom and refused to see me when I was on the brink of death.” You responded.

“Neither of one of us have been very good cousins, have we?” James smiled.

“I’m so sorry,” you swallowed harshly against the lump in your throat. James did not respond, he rammed into you hard, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

Taglist: @melllinaa, @noah-uhhh-what, @lonelywitchv2, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader, @rosariia25, @newbooksmell777, @dcgadel, @coolerthananicecubeeee, @volturissideslut, @celesteblack08, @jack1esblog, @ellen3101

#james potter #marauders #aaron taylor johnson #sirius black #remus lupin #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black angst #James potter angst #all the young dudes #atyd marauders

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bunnylovesani · 1 month

Text

He Was a Boy, She Was a Girl

Summary: Sam has never been the most reliable neighbour- but will he have your back when the opportunity arises?

Content warnings: Fluff with the tiniest bit of smut at the end

WC: 2.4k

Sam Monroe was nothing if not an asshole. If the mailman mistakenly delivered only one newspaper, he would rush out to make sure he was the first to get it. If you were studying and asked him to turn the music down, he’d crank it up to full volume until the walls vibrated. The one time you were sick and couldn’t wheel the garbage out to the end of the road, he laughed at your plea for help, kicking the piled-up bin on his way out. What’s more, he came over again later just to complain about the smell while you answered the door wrapped up in your duvet, sniffling through your painfully reddened nose.

There was no doubt whatsoever that Sam was a self-centred, lazy, abrasive boy. You’d learned long ago that if you wanted something done, he was not the neighbour to ask. So why were you so obsessed with him?

Maybe it was his steely cold good looks or the way he endlessly teased you that got you hooked but one thing was certain- he would never like someone like you.

Or at least that’s what you thought. Though the bravado he put on was impressively convincing, behind the layers of angst and attitude was a boy who had been smitten with you for years. He’d observed you closely since you were kids; your bedroom windows were parallel to each other and you weren’t too fond of closing your curtains. How could he not fall for you when you left taped-up paper notes for him on the glass, signing every message off with a heart? He’d roll his eyes and shut the blinds in response but a smile would creep up on his face once he was out of sight.

That’s just the way you were, tooth-rottingly sweet and resiliently kind despite his many attempts to enforce a distance between you. But you gave your kindness out to everyone- he could tell by the way you chirped “Good morning!” to the whole street and the wide grin that was always plastered on your angelic face.

Yes, it was clear as day that your brightness was not reserved for him, which is why he was decidedly careful not to mistake your warm-hearted nature for something more.

He didn’t see the way you baked your cookies just for him, swapping out the chocolate chips for raisins because you knew he preferred those even though you couldn’t stand them. He didn’t know that your beaming smile was only there because he’d crawled out of his room long enough for you to catch a glimpse of him that day. Just like you didn’t know that there was no smell coming from the bins that day, he just needed an excuse to see you were okay.

“Sam! Come on, open the door. I know you’re in there.” You sighed, tapping your foot impatiently outside his house.

“What?” He huffed, opening up with half-lidded eyes and his usual boorish demeanour.

“There you are, I’ve been knocking for all of ten minutes. Brad needs a flat nut tool for his guitar and I thought it sounded like something you’d have.”

“Brad?” He raised his eyebrow. “That Neanderthal has taken up playing?”

“He wants to be a guitar tech.” You chewed on your bottom lip, his scrutinising glare piercing into you.

“And he can’t buy his own tools?” Sam turned around and walked off into his room with you trailing closely behind.

“He says he forgot to buy this one.” You shrug.

“Well too bad, I’m not loaning my best tool to a guy that forgets to turn up to his own finals exam.”

“That was one time!” You defended him though you weren’t entirely sure why.

“One time too many.” He lands back into his unmade bed with a soft thud. “You know he wants to fuck you, right?”

“Brad? No way.” You shake your head fervently.

“Oh, yes. He’s pretending to be your friend, taking you out to all these parties, just waiting for an opportunity for you to let your guard down.”

“You’re too paranoid, Sam. I mean, honestly. Not every guy wants to get in my pants. I mean, you should know. You can barely tolerate me.” You chuckle mirthlessly, hoping in vain that he would refute your claim.

“Yeah. I suppose.” He clears his throat and sinks deeper into his duvet, awkward energy filling the air.

“Well, I’ll be on my way. Sorry for bothering you.” You turn on your heel.

“Bye.” He grunts as you make your way out of the house.

In hindsight, what you’d asked of him was embarrassingly silly and you knew he’d never agree- but you would take any excuse to talk to him, even if the conversation was uncomfortable.

As you strolled the few steps it took to reach your home next door, you saw Brad standing by your porch.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” He smirked, opening his arms to pull you in for a hug.

“Brad?” You hugged back confusedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Do I need a reason to see a friend?” He quipped disingenuously.

“Uh, I guess not. I asked Sam about the flat nut but he doesn’t have one.” Your gaze wandered to Sam’s bedroom window, which faced out to your porch.

“The what? Oh, that. Ah man, that really sucks!” He slapped his leg insincerely.

“Yeah…I should be going now, thanks for stopping by.” You try to shake him off but he steps in front of the door before you can enter.

“Woah, woah, wait. Saying bye so soon? But I came all this way.” He cocks his head and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“That’s why you should’ve called first.” You try to sidestep but he grips his broad hands on your shoulders, holding you in place.

“Don’t be rude.” He warns, beady eyes darkening.

“Get your hands off me!” You slap him across the face and wriggle out of his grasp, pushing him aside to run into the house. You slam the door shut, locking every bolt and key you have before peering out the peephole to ensure he’d left; he trudged down the porch muttering curses under his breath until he was out of view. Sliding your back down the door and bringing your knees close, you exhaled a shaky breath. Sam was right.

“Hey, hold up!” Sam shouted as he ran out of his front door to catch up with Brad, who had just passed his front yard.

“The hell do you want?” He grumbled, stopping for a moment to observe the scrawny, pale specimen marching towards him. “I don’t actually need the damn flat nut.”

“Oh, this isn’t about the tool.” He chuckled, giving himself no time to think about how much taller or broader his opponent was before his arm reared back and he punched Brad square in the jaw, knocking him down to the concrete pavement.

“You come near her again, I swear to God. I’ll show you what flat nuts look like.” Sam spat, enraged by what he’d seen unfold through his window.

“The hero act is adorable. It really is.” Brad wheezed. “But she’ll never want you.”

“If you so much as look at her again, I will put you in the fucking ground.�� Sam recoiled venomously, adrenaline and fury pumping through his veins.

Before being tempted to do something more drastic, he paced over to your front door, giving himself a moment to diffuse before ringing the doorbell.

“Hey. You okay?” He asked breathily once you answered.

“Quickly, come in.” You ushered him in and looked both ways before locking the door securely behind you. “You were right, Sam. He tried making a move on me! And he wasn’t best pleased when I didn’t play along.”

“What an idiot.” Sam shook his head disapprovingly as your eyes filled with tears. “Oh come on, don’t cry. You know I don’t know how to deal with that.”

“Sorry.” You winced, wiping them away immediately as he scratched the back of his head, a conflicted expression painted across his face.

“Why are you here?” You sniffled, remembering you forgot to ask.

“Oh, um, I- I came to ask if you wanted to get some ice cream.” He declared somewhat unconvincingly, subtly scanning you to make sure you were unharmed.

“You? Want to get ice cream with me?” Your eyes stopped watering at the thought.

“I’m craving some, why not bring you along? It’s a nice day and there’s an ice cream truck parked right down the road.” He gulped, hoping you wouldn’t question his out-of-character behaviour.

“O-okay.” You nodded, chest feeling lighter at the thought of a strawberry scoop.

“Come on then, slowpoke, out you get.” He opened the door and swung his arm out.

“Coming.” You chuckled, Sam’s teasing instantly brightening your mood.

He guided you down the road, thankful the truck was in the opposite direction to the block he’d had his scuffle with Brad.

Halting before the white van, you observed the myriad of flavours on display and pondered.

“We’ll have one cone with vanilla and one with rum and raisin, please.” Sam announced to the balding ice cream man before you could interject. He swiftly scooped up the creamy spread and gave it to you both, eyebrows furrowed at the scrunched-up 5 dollar note Sam handed him in return.

You gulped at the brown-mauve lump, not wanting to appear ungrateful but struggling to hide your displeasure.

“You love raisins, right? You put them in all your cookies.” Sam sucked at his melting white scoop and you glared enviously.

“Of course, yeah.” You muttered as convincingly as you could before licking a stripe up the unappetising glob, careful to avoid any rogue raisins.

“How is it?” He asked earnestly.

“Amazing. So tasty. Wanna try?” You nudged the cone his way but he shook his head.

“I’ll stick to my boring vanilla.” He winked before taking a crispy bite out of the wafer.

Using strategic nibbles, you could stomach the flavour of the rum by swallowing it whole before the sickly taste had time to disperse. The raisins, however, were a different kind of challenge. Whenever Sam looked away, you took the opportunity to quickly pick the morsels off and toss them to the ground. He was too lost in his usual grumbling, heightened by the excitement with Brad, to pay any notice. Finishing the last of your cone with a sigh of relief, a shiver coursed through your body.

“You cold?” Sam nudged your shoulder against his own.

“A little.” You shrugged, acting like it was the weather and not the monstrosity you’d just ingested causing your goosebumps.

“I didn’t bring anything.” He tutted, stopping in his tracks. “Let me run back and get you something.”

“No, Sam, it’s fine-“

“It’ll only take a minute.” He interrupted, already jogging back towards the house as you took a seat on a nearby bench. It was pointless arguing with him.

Sam retrieved a black fleeced hoodie from his coat rack and quickly paced his way back, not wanting to keep you waiting. As he caught up with you, he noticed a trail of little brown lumps scattered across the pavement, each fleck spaced a couple metres apart. Squinting, he peered closely until the details came into focus. Are those raisins?

Somewhat carelessly, Sam tossed the hoodie in your direction and you grabbed it with a grateful nod. You draped it over yourself with a contented hum, the warmth of his scent enveloping you.

“Thanks.” You smiled gratefully.

“No problem.” He sat down besides you, keeping a small distance. “Let’s play a game.”

“What kinda game?” You cocked your head curiously.

“One of those rapid fire ones. I ask short questions and you have to say yes or no really quickly.” He explained with a faint smirk.

“Okay, hit me!” You slapped your palms against your thighs excitedly.

“Alright. Is pink your favourite colour?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love roses?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like Brad?”

“No.”

“Is today a Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your lips, your breath hitched and your mind began racing with ways you could take it back. Sam smirked and shuffled back on the bench, spreading his legs apart and resting his hands behind his head.

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly taking pleasure in your humiliation.

“As a friend. As a neighbour!” You interjected frantically.

“Don’t try to backtrack now. You love me.” He laughed, shoving you playfully as you dropped your head into your hands, keen to hide your reddening face. “Why did I find a trail of raisins leading up to here, huh?”

You raised your head to meet his gaze, now softened and sincere.

“I hate raisins.” You mumbled.

“And you put them in all your cookies because?”

“I knew you liked them.”

“I thought as much.” He hummed, his suspicions confirmed.

“Look, Sam- it’s a really stupid crush, I’ll get over it, I promise. This doesn’t have to change anything, right?” You whined desperately.

“Of course it does. It changes everything.” He shook his head.

“What? No, Sam, please-“

“Now I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to for years.” He turned to face you, Adam’s apple bobbing with apprehension.

“Wh-what? Wait, Sam-” You quietened, shrinking into nothing as he drew closer.

“Shut up.” He grasped your jaw firmly and you melted into his touch as he grazed his bottom lip against yours. “Enough talking.”

Your whimpering was swallowed by the plump pink lips that enveloped your own, fingers tangled into your hair as he kissed you in a way that made you feel his years of longing. The soft, wet flesh smacked messily and filled your chest with an aching desire, unlike anything you’d experienced before. Strings of drool connected your lips as you pulled away reluctantly for breath.

“You’re a good kisser.” You panted breathlessly, blissfully unaware of your surroundings or the judgemental glares you’d been getting from passers-by.

“Come back to mine and I’ll show you what else I’m good at.” He smirked, wiping the spit off his deliciously swollen lips.

You wanted to play modest but you knew there was no use resisting- by the end of the night, you’d be bent over his unmade bed, scrunching up the sheets with balled-up fists and moaning out his name as he mercilessly moulded himself into your squishy guts.

You couldn’t wait.

Taglist:

@bearryyy @w0rsh1psells @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @emmalandry @slut4starwarssmut @iamjustaholeforyousir @mousie101-blog @sweetcheesecakesblog @bardotsmuse @cultofsin @doestalker @kentaviax @jediavengers @johnbassplayercutie @slut4ani

୨୧ If you want to be removed from the Taglist or only want to be tagged for certain fics, please let me know ! ୨୧

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe fluff #life as a house #hayden christensen x reader #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader

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bonky-n-steeb · 2 years

Text

a clandestine affair —

summary || bucky can’t hold himself back when you look that gorgeous at Tony’s house warming party.

warnings || semi public sex, breeding kink, dirty talking, choking, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, bucky is horny and filthy af. PWP — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read!

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

I have no idea why I’ve written this, guess I’m just horny but then what’s new..

“Bucky, what are you doing?” You giggled as Bucky led you into a room. His entire body was pressed to your back and you nearly moaned as he sucked on your neck. You harshly chewed on your lip to stop the moans from spilling out. “We can’t do it here…” you tried speaking some sense into him.

“Why can’t we?” He rasped back as he continued his ministrations. You nearly lost your thought process as he nibbled on your neck before leaving the bruises with his tongue. “Because…” you trailed off as his fingers slipped past your dress and trailed up your thighs.

“Because we’re at a party!” You finally blurted out, but it didn’t really have an effect. He just hummed and continued until you were touching the wall. You reached down to swat his hand away, but he cupped your clothed cunt and you backtracked in your plans. “They wouldn’t know.”

Technically he wasn’t wrong, the party was going on in full swing at the lawn, and you were at nearly the other end of the huge mansion. It was a house warning party arranged by Tony and right from Clint to Sam, everyone with their families was invited.

“Bucky but…” your train of thoughts derailed as he began circling your clit through your soaked panties. You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against the cool wall to ground yourself. “What if someone finds us?” Producing coherent thoughts was getting more difficult as Bucky played your body to his tune.

His lips were busy sucking bruises on your neck and his metal arm held your hip while his flesh hand was making you dizzy with its ministrations. “They won’t even notice we’re gone.“ his reply was muffled by your skin. The trail of saliva left behind by him cooled down on your neck and made goosebumps erupt.

You stopped protesting when he pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers over your wet folds. He hummed against the column of your neck and your eyes nearly rolled back when two of his thick fingers entered your drenched hole. “Oh Bucky…” you moaned out his name.

“Be quiet sugar, we can’t have them listening, now can we?” His voice was thick with lust and even that somehow aroused your more. You squirmed and tried to suppress your moans as his fingers hit that spot within you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers.

You stood on your tip toes as he fingered you and kept murmuring filth in your ear. “You hear how wet your pussy is, sugar. You can’t deny me this softness when you yourself need it so bad.” You felt your face heat up at his words, but you were loving every second of it.

You were already on an edge with the thought of getting caught and though it sounded sinful, it still excited you. His palm was rubbing deliciously against your clit and that combined with every other sensation had you clenching down on his fingers.

But right as you were about to cascade down the abyss of bliss, Bucky pulled out his fingers. Your eyes snapped open and you turned around to gawk at Bucky. You whined pathetically and he just chuckled at your struggle, “Have patience my dear, because I need you to make a mess on my cock.”

The sound that bubbled up your throat definitely wasn’t dignified. Just moments before you were worried that someone would find you, but by now you’d almost forgotten about it. Bucky knew what an effect he had on you, and he probably got off on it. It took him mere moments to turn you into a whiny mess.

Your palms curled on the flat wall as you heard him unzip his pants. You were breathing heavily as he pressed his cock against your swollen folds and rubbed it, wetting it in your slick. You choked on your breath as his girthy head entered you and he groaned out.

“Fuck,.. you’re so tight sugar. If it wasn’t me fucking you silly every night, I would’ve pegged you for a virgin.” Your entire body writhed like a leaf as he entered you inch by inch. You could feel his hot breath against your neck and every single cell in your body had become hypersensitive.

Bucky snaked his arm around your shoulder and the other held your hips, locking you still, and only then did he start thrusting inside you. There was this sense of urgency in his movements that you didn’t really understand, but whenever you opened your mouth to speak, only broken moans came out.

You tried your best to keep quiet, but you couldn’t stop your whimpers no matter how hard you tried. Bucky’s wasn’t holding back as he fucked you within an inch of your life. His hand on your hips snaked down to press tight circles over your clit.

Bucky pressed his metal hand tightly over your mouth to muffle your moans. “You gotta keep it low sugar, or someone will hear us.” Your walls pulsated around his hard length and he increased his pace, hitting deeper the before. “Oh you naughty girl, you like this, don’t you? You wanna get caught?”

Your clammy hands slipped on the wall and Bucky was the only thing holding you up. “Is that why you’re wearing such a slutty dress?” You were just wearing a cute sundress, but your eyes watered from the intensity of the whole act, and Bucky turned your face around a bit to lick up at the salty tears.

“Oh sugar, I saw how wonderful you are with the kids and I couldn’t help but think of putting my baby in you. And no better time than now, right?” He was thrusting up into you like a man possessed and you gulped when you finally realised the reason behind his urgency.

“God, you’d look so fucking gorgeous all full and swollen with my child.” The more Bucky talked, the more he pulled you into his fantasy. “Bucky… yesss!” You slurred as you spoke. “Yeah sugar, don’t worry. I’m gonna fuck you so nice and deep that you’ll make me a daddy.”

You sobbed into his hand as your suddenly came. This orgasm hit you out of nowhere and shook you right through your core. Your legs trembled and Bucky tightened his hold on your to keep you from falling. Your entire body felt electrified as you writhed under him.

“See, you’ve made such a mess on my cock, just like I wanted. Good girl.” You were nearly nearly boneless and yet his praise went to your head. You were so sensitive that you could feel the course material of his pants against your thighs as he pressed against you.

“Tell me sugar, you gonna make me a daddy?” His question had you shaking your head passionately. He flicked your swollen clit and you feared you’d come again soon. His hand slipped lower from your mouth and curled around your neck. You arched your back such that your head was resting on his chest as he rammed into you.

“Did I fuck you dumb, sugar?” His voice had become breathy and hoarse. You didn’t know whether it was a rhetorical question or not, but you didn’t have much time to ponder as he answered it himself. “Guess I have.” He chuckled darkly in your ear.

You were still riding the high of the first orgasm when you felt the next one approaching. “Kiss me..” you blurted out even though it was barely above a whisper. Bucky turned your head again, and crashed his lips down on yours.

You didn’t really have the energy to kiss him back, but you happily let him guide the movements. The kiss was passionate as he explored your mouth with his tongue and his hand tightened just a tad bit on your neck, but that was enough for you to cum harder than you ever had.

You lost the sense of time as you crashed through the waves of overwhelming bliss. You felt Bucky cock twitch inside you and the feeling of his hot cum filling you up had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Drool collected at the corner of your mouth and Bucky hummed as licked it off.

Bucky placed his metal arm on the wall as you caught your breath and you too heavily leaned on him. You could feel his cum trickle down your thighs as he pulled out and you sighed. “We..” you cleared your dry throat before speaking. “We gotta go home. Can’t go in front of them like this.”

Bucky hummed as he readjusted your panties and dress until you were at least presentable. Though one look at your dazed eyes was a give away. He was quick to zip up his pants and he hissed as he did. You leaned on his as you walked out of the room and roamed the halls until you finally found the back exit.

“Oh god, there you are!” You both stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Tony’s voice behind you. “We’ve been searching you everywhere. What the hell were you doing?” Tony’s smile dropped when you two turned around and you could bet he knew exactly what you’d been up to. And with a very straight laced voice, Bucky replied,

“We were christening your house.”

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ohtobeleah · 9 months

Text

Way Down We Go // Jake Seresin

Summary: Burnout isn't an academic exercise. No. It's an all-consuming, systemic condition. It's your entire body sending you one clear message. Something has to change and it has to change now.

Warnings: Angst. Mental health talks. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Friends to Lovers to ex’s to enemies to friends to lovers trope.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Based off my own recent experience with Burn Out. Writing this helped me process some of my pent up frustration with accepting the fact I experienced my first real major burn out at 24.

In 2019, the World Health Organisation officially recognised “Burnout” in its international classification of diseases. Studies show that aviators who report signs of burnout have enlarged amygdalas. The area in the brain that regulates fear and aggression.

But burnout isn't an academic exercise. No. It's an all-consuming, systemic condition. It's your entire body sending you one clear message. Something has to change and it has to change now.

Put simply, Burnout comes from a deep imbalance. Too much stress with too few rewards. You're exhausted. Depleted. You no longer have patience, pleasure of serotonin. This is the end unless–

You turn it into something else and find your path to recovery. Pick the pieces you want from your life and find a new way forward. But sometimes it isn't all that simple. Sometimes the all-consuming is just that, it's all-consuming–

And sometimes it's easier to drop the deadweight than to try and carry it on your shoulders.

“Anyone see Rouge today?” It was Hangman's tone that sent a shiver down Roosters spine as he scoffed down the turkey sandwich he had slapped together this morning in the rec room. “We’re on the schedule together after break and I haven't seen her all day?” Rooster knew exactly where you were. At home, probably in bed under a plethora of blankets just trying to catch up on some sleep.

“I uh–” Rooster was raised by an intelligent and loving woman who had always told him not to talk with his mouth full, but in times like these where every second mattered, that rule seemed more obsolete with every day that passed him by. He did however, make an effort to cover his mouth as he chewed and spoke. “Actually I think I’m with you this afternoon, Mav just hasn't had a chance to change the schedule.” It wasn't technically a lie.

“Is Rogue not in today?” Jake frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Or is she just avoiding me or something?” You and Jake Seresin had a complicated history. On again and off again romantically, on again off again friends, but these days it seemed to be that the two of you were more off than on. To the point where if you could avoid it, the two of you would ignore each other's existence completely. It was easier that way.

Which meant Jake didn't know just how bad things had gotten for you. He didn't know you’d decided to take an extended leave of absence from work until you could figure out just what the hell was wrong with you. He didn't know that Rooster had been at your house last night on a welfare check mission. He felt it was his responsibility, after all you were his uncle's daughter.

“Kerners decided to take some time off work.” Rooster explained the best he could without giving too much detail about your personal problems away. “After yesterday's mishap, she got spooked and asked Simpson for a few days to collect her thoughts.”

Jake swore his heart left his body when he saw you lose control for those few seconds. All he could do was watch on in pure horror as you tried to regain control of your fighter jet after getting caught in his jet wash. You panicked, something that was completely out of the ordinary for you which led to you losing control of your F-18 for those brief moments in time.

Jake wanted to talk to you after you landed, but within seconds of touching down you were heading straight for the locker room to grab your things. Unbeknownst to him it was your final straw. He hadn’t seen you since. And now Bradshaw was telling him you weren't in at all and wouldn't be for a while? Things weren’t adding up. Not to Jake. This wasn’t like you at all.

“What aren't you telling me, Rooster?” Jake pressed as he paced up and down the rec room with his arms folded. He cared about you, he just didn’t know how to convey that care. He’d never not care about you.

“I’m not not telling you anything.” Bradley replied, he looked like a deer caught in Jake's headlights. “We should get ready for our next hop man.” Bradley tried his best to change the subject, the subject being you and your mental stability. “I’m sure if Rogue has something to say she’ll say it.” He shrugged as he stood, knowing that Jake was probably the last person you would ever want to come clean to about being so vulnerable. “We better get going.”

“You’d tell me if she wasn’t alright, wouldn’t you?” Again, the tone Jake used sent a shiver down Bradley’s spine. He knew how tramaltious your relationship was. “If Kerner wasn’t alright you’d let me know?” Jake didn’t need Bradley to reply, his silence spoke louder than any excuse he could make up on the spot. “Dammit Bradshaw—“

“She didn’t want you to know!”

“Know what!?” Jake hissed. He didn’t raise his voice in fear of bringing any sort of unwanted attention to the situation, but he was worried. Worried about what he didn’t know, worried about you. The best friend he couldn’t talk to. The love of his life he couldn’t admit to. You were the only woman in the world who knew how to take his breath away, in more ways than one. “God Rooster, just tell me what’s going on!”

“She’s afraid to burn in—“ Bradley sighed as he held the bridge of his nose and hung his head in shame. You trusted him like an older brother and yet here he was, spilling your dirty mental health laundry to the only person you begged him not to tell. Jake Seresin, the love of your life that drove you insane. Your best friend who you couldn’t confide in, the only man who made you want to shoot for the moon and capture all the stars too. “She took an extended leave, told the Admirals they either needed to sign off on the paperwork or they’d be signing her death notice.” It was hard to hear because to Jake this was coming out of nowhere. “She just needs time.” Jake didn’t know how to respond, but most importantly he didn’t know how to react.

“I don’t have time for all this melodrama, Rooster.” Jake shook his head in disbelief. “If Rogue wants to throw her career away because of a few bad days so be it but I’m not sympathetic.” It was the only response Jake knew how to give, but he was panicking on the inside. “I’ll see you for pre-flight checks.”

“I think it’s more than just a few bad days, Hangman.” Bradley wasn’t going to say when he saw you last night he hardly recognised you. “She’s hid it well.” In all the time Bradley had known you, he’d never seen you this bad before. It was serious. He’d experienced his own burn out a few years back just after the Uranium mission. Before you joined the Daggers. It had taken its toll on him a hell of a lot more than he was prepared for. “She hid it so well I didn’t even know something was up until she was on the edge already.”

In that very moment Bradley came to realised why you didn’t want Jake to know you were struggling, you didn’t want him to know that if given the chance you’d quit tomorrow because the burn out you were in was so entirely consuming that it made it hard to even get out of bed. When was the last time you ate?

“She hid it so well it’s almost hard to believe, don't you think?” Jake snapped over his shoulder as he left the rec room, completely in denial about the fact you didn’t let him in.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The entire day had passed you by before you even contemplated the idea of getting out of bed. The idea in and of itself seemed exhausting. Expending any kind energy other than the minimal amount to breath seemed like a chore.

Your stomach grumbled as you sat up and looked out the window that nestled itself beside your bed—pushed up against the wall just the way you liked it. It was dark, the day had passed and even though you couldn’t be bothered doing anything, the idea you’d wasted a full day in bed made you feel like shit. Plain and simple. You felt like crap and there was no one else to blame for that intense feeling of disappointment than yourself.

As you climbed over your mess of linen and covers, a not so subtle knock began to echo out through your apartment.

“Rooster!” You groaned, pressing your forehead into your mattress as you slumped in defeat. “Go away! I told you I’m fine!” You weren’t fine, you just didn’t want anyone worrying about you. You had this under control right? Even if you didn’t know what was happening to you.

When the knocking persisted you knew you had to let Bradley in, he’d camp out in the hall before he left without seeing you.

“My god I told you I’m fine!” You groaned as you made your way down the hall. Still in the same clothes you went to bed in yesterday afternoon. “I don’t need you doing welfare checks on me every dam—“ As you opened the door, it took you a second to register that it wasn’t Bradley standing out in the hall. “Jake?” You frowned, suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more vulnerable than you did six minutes ago. “What are you doing here?”

“Bradshaw said you’re on leave?” Was all Jake said as he stepped into your apartment, it still felt like home despite the fact he hadn’t been over in months since your last bust. “What gives Rogue?” He was still in his flight suit, usually Jake showed before leaving base. But you were the priority right now. He just needed to see you. See for himself what the hell was going on.

You watched as Jake made his way into your home, into your sacred space without so much as an afterthought that he may be intruding. He never did think his actions through if he wasn’t inside an F-18.

“Is that your way of asking me if I’m alright?” You rolled your eyes as you shut the front door, making a note to lock it behind you in case any other nosie aviators with callsigns that belonged to the flightless bird community came knocking.

“It’s my way of asking what gives—“ Jake made sure to correct you. “So what gives? It’s not like you to take a break, you’re as good as they come—don’t actually get any better if you want my personal opinion.” It wasn’t a secret that you and Jake rotated as ‘The Best’ like a rositery chicken. He was on top one week and suddenly it was you by just a few points. But the sentiment remained, you were the only one who ever came close to matching Jake Seresin. It was just in your DNA.

“Yeah I don’t remember asking for it.” You hissed, pushing past Jake as he stood in your hallway like a fungus you needed to get rid of before it had a chance to infect you. “Just because I’m the best doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a break from time to time.”

As you made your way down the hall toward your bedroom, Jake noticed the way your shoulders slumped just the slightest bit. He noticed the way you looked as if you hadn’t been out of bed all day, the way your hair looked like a bird's nest atop your head. And he wasn’t sure why you were wearing the T-shirt he thought he’d lost three weeks ago but as it turned out you had it all along.

“Y/n—“ Jake sighed as he watched you disappear into your room without so much as an explanation. “Wait.”

“I need to shower.” It was the toneless way you explained yourself that sent warning signals off in Jake's mind as he followed you.

“Hypothetically if I were to ask if you were doing okay would you tell me the truth?” You and Jake hadn’t always been so short with one another, but it was just the way it was now. It was the dynamic you were used to but loathed so much. You just wanted him to love you the way you saw in all the Disney films that were crammed down your throat as a kid.

But Jake couldn’t. It wasn’t in his DNA.

“Probably not, but like I told Bradshaw last night, I’m fine, just needed some time off work.” You shrugged as you fished through your dresser for a fresh pair of socks. Jake just stood off to the side, unsure of what to make of the mess that was your room. Usually you made it a note to keep your space clean and tidy. But when Jake looked around all he saw was complete chaos, a quick look into the inside of your mind looked like.

“Isn’t that what weekends and annual leave is for?” He mumbled just loud enough for you to hear.

“Couldn’t wait—I’m taking this unpaid and uninterrupted, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower.”

“Don’t lie to me.” It came out more like a plea than a demand but it still didn’t sit right with you. You knew Jake Seresin didn’t care about anyone but himself. You’d known him long enough to know that he was selfishly egomaniacal. He didn’t care, not about you anyway. “Don’t lie to me Kerner—“

Jake had stopped you from moving any further towards your ensuite, with a gentle hand wrapped around your forearm.

“I’m. Fine.” You had grit your teeth together to stop yourself from breaking. The force was enough to make your jaw ache. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Really?” Jake challenged. “Because I’m standing on a pile of washing that smells like the inside of Fanboys locker.”

“What has that got to do with anything!” As you ripped your arm out of Jake's grip he was quick to follow you into your bathroom. “I’m behind on laundry, big deal.”

“It’s a big deal for you!” You could feel yourself crumbling the more Jake pressed you for the truth. “I don’t know what’s going on but—“

“Oh what exactly do you want me to say Jake? That I get up and then all day I'm tired, and that I wanna take a nap all day?” Everything you had been trying to hold in and deny was finally bubbling to the surface. “Do you want to hear me say that I have no motivation? That I don't wanna do anything.”

“Y/n—“ Jake tried to interrupt as you threw your stuff on the bathroom floor in a heap. “It’s—“ There wasn’t a single thing Jake could say that could comfort you once the damn had been broken, you had held it all in for so long.

“That I don't want to work, I can’t Jake because if I’m not in my own mind than I could kill myself up there or even worse–I could kill one of you!”

All Jake could do was to stand there and listen as you let him know everything you had been struggling with for the past few months, slowly losing yourself day by day. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, why you felt this way, why all the enjoyment and all of the life had been sucked out of you.

“I don't want to talk to anyone, especially you!” It was then you shoved at Jake’s chest, completely fed up with your emotional turmoil. He didn’t fight back, no. Jake simply held you close to his chest as he pulled you into a warm embrace that you so desperately needed. “I don't want to hang out with anyone, I don’t wanna watch TV or read a book or even go on my phone but at the same time as all of that I'm so bored! I don't care about anything because all that I care about is just surviving.”

“You’re burnt out Rogue—“

“I’m not!!” Jake swore black and blue that was what you’d been trying to get at. “I can’t be burnt out!” He was even more confused than he was when Rooster had tiptoed around the situation earlier that same day. “My dad burnt out when he was at the height of his career and you know what he did?” Jake knew, he loved your dad like his own. Ron Slider Kerner was one of the best men Jake had ever had the pleasure of knowing. “He became a goddamn airline pilot!” There was anger in your voice, a deep sadness that Jake didn’t understand, what was so wrong with being an airline pilot?

“Y/n, Y/n—“ Jake held you as tight as he could. He hadn’t held you like this in what felt like forever. “You’re gonna be okay.” Your head dipped just perfectly under his chin as you broke, there was nothing worse than crying into the arms of the man you loved and hated all at once. “I’m here, you’re gonna be fine.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” It was the sadness in your cry for help that broke Jake's heart the most, how long had you been dealing with this by yourself? How long had you been telling the people closest to you that you were fine when you really weren’t. “Why can��t I just—“ You couldn’t breathe. “Why can’t I—“ You couldn’t finish your sentences without nearly gasping for air. “I—I can’t—“

“Okay, you’re alright, come with me. Something about Jake Seresin that surprised you the most was the way he dealt with panic attacks. For a guy as level headed as him he sure suffered in silence for the longest time. But you knew—it was one of the reasons you thought Jake couldn’t stand you half the time.

You knew his biggest weakness. Himself.

“Sit.” Jake led you over to the side of your bed as he knelt on his knees before you. “Now just breathe with me alright, I’ve got you.” It was the calming tone in his beautiful voice that had you giving yourself entirely to him. You didn’t want to be trapped inside your own head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you Rogue, everyone goes through burnout, it’s a part of life.” Jake wasn't diminishing your feelings, but from his own experience he knew that there was a weight on your shoulders you needed to rid yourself of. “And it’s real, and it’s valid and it doesn’t mean you aren’t incredibly good at what you do.”

“I can’t handle the pressure—“

“No, you put too much pressure on yourself, that’s what you can’t handle.”

“Oh what do you care Jake!” He’d never seen you like this, so lost and so broken. “Why are you even here right now!”

“Because I care about you! Why else would I be here, huh?” Jake cupped your cheeks gently as he wiped away the tears that streamed down your supple cheeks. “I care about you and when Bradshaw told me you took a leave of absence I knew something was up. This isn’t you.” It was the truth, it wasn’t you and that’s why it scared you so much. You didn’t feel like yourself. “Baby, this isn’t you.”

All you did was cry in Jake's slightly rough palms as he kneeled before you and tried to do what he could to just be present. He hated seeing you like this, so out of your mind and dealing with an existential crisis. But Jake knew what it was like to experience burnout.

“I can’t be burn out—“

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not real?” That was probably the stupidest thing Jake had ever heard you say. “My mum always used to say that being burnt out was just an excuse for not being good enough, it was a cop out.”

“Something tells me that’s a reason why your parents divorced huh?” You couldn’t hold back the small chuckle that escaped through the sobs. “Y/n, what you're experiencing right now is so real it’s not funny—burnout is real and I reckon once you accept that? It’s going to be easier to overcome than to fight off.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about this for a guy who’s as confident as ever.”

“Contrary to popular belief Rogue, I wasn’t born the best.” Jake winked as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “How about you go have that shower and I’ll order some food and we can talk about it, all of it.”

“Is this your way of trying to get in my pants?”

“Mmm—it usually would be, but no, not this time.” Jake admitted as he graciously helped you stand as you sighed out a deep breath. “I’m here to help, can’t leave my wingwoman behind.”

“I love you Seresin.” You smiled softly as you pressed your lips together in a fine line. It was hard to admit, but you’d never not love Jake. “Thanks for showing up.” Jake mimicked your smile before his lips pressed into a fine line of their own. He nodded softly before you turned on your heels, heading into the bathroom before shutting the door behind you.

“I love you too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fanfic #hangman top gun #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x f!reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine

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pettyprocrastination · 8 months

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Taste Test

Pairing: Line Cook!Simon Riley x Line Cook!Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon is warned by his manager about the dangers of a workplace romance. You are asked for your opinion on seasoning.

Warnings: profanity and smoking.

Wordcount: 1.3k

Note: take this silly little thing as an apology for my utter lack of activity lately I'm so sorry yall! Made simon a linecook as a little joke au but now its kinda stuck in my head and not leaving lmao. Big thank you to @madhyanas @thesadvampire and @yeehaw-djarin for being my beta readers and editors for this story! I smooch you all <3

__________________

Simon had just finished plating his sixth steak of the night when the manager, Elise, a woman with twitching hands and cold eyes, pokes her head into the kitchen and barks his name.

“My office.”

The others snicker and bump shoulders like schoolboys, calling out a jested “fuck did you do this time, Riley?” that he doesn’t bother answering with words so much as a choice hand gesture thrown into the air before he ducks under the door frame and disappears down the hall.

“You want to tell me what I’m getting chewed out for?” Simon rasps as he tucks his hands into the front pocket of his apron, scarred fingers curling around the carton of cigarettes tucked within it.

Elise’s office is hardly bigger than the pantry, just large enough for a rickety desk piled with bills and a chair with a threadbare cushion that was all but pressed flat.

“I’m not reprimanding you, Simon.”

“Is that so?”

“Think of what I’m about to say as-” Elise tilts her head, flashing him a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “A preventive measure.”

Simon fishes out a lighter from his back pocket as she continues. She doesn’t have the energy to tell him to stop.

“What do you think of the new hire?”

Truthfully, nothing.

You don’t talk much outside of work. While the other cooks are content to crack jokes and tell stories of their weekend to one another as they prepare meals, you have no such social connection to anybody within the kitchen. The only moments Simon had even heard your voice was the rushed announcement of your position behind somebody or when coming around the corner.

“She’s fine.” He takes a slow drag of his cigarette and exhales, smoke curling from his lips as he speaks. “Does her job and doesn’t bitch like the others.”

“She’s more than fine.” Elise motions to a stapled pack of paper on her desk.

“Kid went to culinary school, trained under some big fucking names and even worked at some five-star joints before coming here. All her previous employers say she’s a hard worker who picks up shifts and doesn’t cause trouble.”

She picks up the paper and points it towards the six foot four cook hunched in her doorway.

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you now that she is off-fucking-limits to you.”

Simon bites down on his cigarette. “S’cuse me?”

“Don’t play coy, Riley. You’re far too fucking grown to pretend you don’t know what you do.”

He does know. Simon is more than aware of the past flings he’s had with multiple servers, none of which have ended on a positive note and all of which resulted in a souring work environment until they up and quit - leaving front of house understaffed until the next poor bastard walked through the door asking about the Help Wanted sign hung outside.

But the blame can’t be on him entirely, that is. Each doe-eyed waitress entered a fling with the cook knowing good and well what his intentions were, because he had no issue with saying it right to their face.

‘I’m not looking for a relationship.’

Simon is a blunt man. He tells people what he wants because in a world full of dragging feet and double entendres, he values efficiency and honesty above all else.

“Listen, I’ve never stopped you from dipping your hand in the cookie jar before, but this?” She waves your resume in front of him again. “This right here? Off-limits. If you run this poor girl out and leave us understaffed for the Sunday rush I will fucking gut you myself, Simon.”

It’s only been a week and a half since you’ve started working with them. Part of him wants to laugh at Elise’s exasperated accusation. That somehow, in the midst of chaotic shifts where several customers complain and a few bar patrons get rowdy enough for him to have to drag them out by the collar, he’d be able to find the fucking time to learn your goddamn name, let alone sweettalk his way between your legs.

But then he remembers the muffled laugh you hid in your sleeve yesterday when listening to the dishwasher crack jokes during the lunch rush and how you tap the side of your apron in a constant rhythm when looking for something within the kitchen. Simon interrupts his own thoughts and frowns, mildly surprised about just how much he noticed of you from the corner of his eye during the daily lunch rush. Had Elise said nothing, he wouldn’t have cast a second glance in your direction. But now?

“Simon! Are you listening?”

She may have just cursed herself.

“Yeah-” He stamps his cigarette out on the ceramic tray on her desk, offering her a dry clip of his voice before turning on his heel. “No fucking the new cook until we find coverage, got it.”

Simon narrowly avoids a stapler being thrown in his direction before ducking out of her office and back into the kitchen where his coworker grins at him from the sink.

“So? She fire your dumbass yet?”

Across the kitchen, you cut onions with a flicking wrist that never ceased movement, brows furrowed and mumbling to yourself.

Simon hums.

You’re quite pretty.

“Not yet.” He rumbles. “She likes my smile too much.”

You spare Simon a glance as he settles back into his work station next to you before you resume cutting. He notices there’s a scar on your bottom lip, a little sliver of raised skin that goes from the bottom of your chin to the swell of your lower lip.

“Hey.”

His voice shakes you from your focus, hands freezing as you turn to look at him, lightly craning your neck to meet his eyes.

Simon holds out a spoon to you, the other scarred hand hovering beneath to keep it from spilling.

“Mind giving your opinion? Can’t tell if it needs more garlic.”

There’s a moment where your brows cinch together and you look at him with caution, as if to sniff out any sort of deceit within his offer before you mumble, “Yeah, yeah, okay,” and lean forward.

There’s no need for him to feed you. You’re a fully grown woman who could take the spoon from his hand with no issue, but Simon finds himself guiding it to your mouth and letting his other hand tuck under your chin in an affectionate gesture far too intimate for the back kitchen of a local restaurant.

Simon is sure that Elise has cursed him too. He hadn’t given you a second glance or a spare thought since your first day. But now, he watches your eyes flutter shut as you hum at his cooking.

“Good?” he asks.

Your tongue darts out to catch a stray droplet of sauce on your lower lip. “Good.” Your lips purse like you have something more to say and you raise your hand, pinching your pointer finger to your thumb in a universal gesture.

“Could use just a bit more garlic though.”

There’s a brief moment after you speak where panic fills your eyes as Simon says nothing. Frantic thoughts fill your brain, wondering if that was some sort of test for the new hire that you had failed due to your own personal tastes until the man that towers over you nods.

“More garlic.” He echoes. With a short nod of his head, he turns back to his station without another word.

Simon doesn’t speak to you again for the rest of your shift yet at times during the night, where an unexpected pause takes over the kitchen for a brief but appreciated moment of silence, you feel his gaze on the back of your neck.

When the time of the night comes to hang up your apron and slip through the backdoor, he joins you without a word. A large looming shadow walking in step with your own, unexpected but not unwelcome. He bids you a rasped “ ‘Night” before turning to his car as you unlock your own, offering him a mimic of his words before you drive home.

You notice in the reflection of your rear view mirror that he doesn’t leave the parking lot right away. But rather chose to wait until you do to finally depart.

#line cook simon tag #nobody look at me im rusty lmao #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x fem reader #watch me find eight fucking typos the minute i post this lmao

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heaven-s-black-box · 3 months

Text

Home- Zhongli x wife!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: January 17th, 2024

Description: May I request smut with Zhongli and his wife having reunion sex after not seeing each other for a long time?

Includes- plot, half dragon form Zhongli, slight angst(?), oral (f receiving)

Notes: This entry was recovered in collaboration with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. Thank you to my friend who beta read this.

Word count: 2 763

Back to directory

Zhongli’s retirement was supposed to mean more time for his wife.

Married for centuries, and yet he felt they only saw each other as frequently as a mortal couple did in their entire lifetime. He’d promised her his undivided love and protection, and back in the Guili plains that had been possible– when it hadn’t just been him watching over the mortals– but here in Liyue it was… difficult. He was loath to admit it, but he was not holding up his end of the contract.

Even after the amendment they’d made following the archon war, that Liyue would come before her, it seemed to take up all his time. Yet she never complained, treating the bustling harbor like it was their child.

His retirement was as if their child had grown, leaving the house to find its place in the world. So how had spending time together gotten harder?

“I’m home, my dearest,” he called into the quiet house, taking care to keep his voice down.

One week, three days, eight hours, forty-two minutes and three seconds.

He’d been gone for a full week, nearly week and a half, and not even on official business, but rather as a favor to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s director because she was too busy to go to Inazuma.Y/n hadn’t been able to join him due to a mild illness at the time of his departure that would have made the boat ride miserable, and so had begun their longest separation since the cataclysm.

A warm scent reached his nose, and he looked up from taking his shoes off to find his wife standing before the entrance in an apron. There was a bandage tied around one of her fingers, and rice flour dusted across the apron.

“I made bamboo shoot soup.”

Her smile was contagious, and he quickly found himself donning a similar expression as she took his hand and led him to the table. A bottle of dandelion wine was set in the center next to a vase of glaze lilies and qingxins. The smell he’d noticed earlier was clearly coming from the pot on the stove that Y/n quickly returned to, serving up two bowls and setting them on the table.

“This is… an interesting array of decor,” Zhongli hummed once they finally sat down.

“Venti came by,” Y/n laughed, “just after you left, actually, he helped me around the house so that I could rest.” Zhongli nodded, begrudgingly thinking up a way to thank the drunken archon. “The flowers were a gift from Ganyu, I think she meant for me to put them in separate vases but…” She shrugged.

Zhongli finished his bite of bamboo, and looked up to find his wife awkwardly pushing her food around her bowl. She raised a piece of meat to her lips, but before she could take a bite, Zhongli urged her to finish her sentence.

“But?”

Y/n rarely clammed up like this, tensing up over something so suddenly. She ignored him for a moment, chewing slowly to buy herself more time. Zhongli set his chopsticks down and laced his hands in front of himself, indicating he had no intent of returning to dinner until she answered him.

“But, they kept me company.”

Y/n rolled her shoulders out and reached for her glass of wine. She frowned upon taking a sip, deciding that maybe dandelion wine and bamboo shoot soup weren’t the best pair, but continued on in order to avoid looking at her husband. There was no doubt in her mind that he was carefully considering her words, and she was not looking forward to-

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “No, no, don’t apologize.”

“Why?” Zhongli reached across the table and took her hands in his, running his thumb over her wedding ring. “It’s the very least I should do. I promised you my undivided love and protection, and I failed. I amended my promise, the vow I made to you centuries ago, and I have still– somehow– made you feel so alone that you would find comfort in the memories of our friends.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

A long moment of silence cut through the house as Y/n lowered her gaze to their hands– hers cradled gently in his. Slowly, she removed Zhongli’s wedding ring, then his gloves, and replaced the ring before bringing his hands to her lips. She placed a kiss on either knuckle and then sighed, resting her forehead against them.

“Your retirement was supposed to be for us,” she whispered, “and I understand that this consultancy with Wangsheng funeral parlor is your way of living a mortal life, but even mortals make better time for their loved ones than you. We have forever, but forever will find its end before you know it.”

Zhongli couldn’t see her face, it was buried in his hands, but he could feel her heavy breathing as she stifled growing sobs.

“Look at me,” he whispered, removing his hands from her grasp to cup her face. Y/n’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears that stabbed at his heart. “I will speak with director Hu Tao and take some time off, and I’ll work on finding a balance. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Y/n turned her face in his hands and kissed his palms.

“Don’t thank me, it’s what I should have done in the first place.”

Hesitantly, Y/n pulled Zhongli’s hands from her face and clasped them in front of her chest– pressing them over her heart.

“Dinner’s gone cold.”

“It has.”

“Why don’t we move on to the rest of the evening's plans?”

Zhongli chuckles, “You had more planned?”

“But of course, you must have been so lonely without me, I need to make up for that.”

Y/n stood up, pulling her husband with her. Before she could pull him any further though, he pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist. She looked up at him with furrowed brows and a small pout.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Her pout dissipated into a small smile as she ran her hands up his chest and played with the collar of his jacket.

“I would tell you if I wasn’t. That was a term in our contract,” she whispered, barely a breath away from his lips before she pulled him in for a kiss.

It was gentle as Y/n ran her hands up around Zhongli’s neck, tugging on his ponytail and earning a short laugh before their lips connected again. Zhongli meanwhile slid his hands just barely under the slit in her qipao, earning a shudder as his claws gently raked over the thin under dress. He moved his hands lower, squeezing at the backs of her thighs.

“Up.”

Y/n jumped up, her skirt bunching up under Zhongli’s hands, wrapping her legs around his waist and giggling– face buried in his neck– as he finally carried her to their bedroom. She loosened his tie, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and littering his neck with butterfly kisses. The door to their room opened, and she took the moment of brief distraction to bite down on the nape of his neck. Zhongli’s grip on her thighs tightened, and he let out a low groan while Y/n snickered softly.

“My bad.”

Zhongli nudged her head up and buried his face in her neck before biting her nape in return, earning a squeal and the squeeze of her thighs. In squeezing her thighs together around his waist, Y/n accidentally pulled herself closer and ground against Zhongli.

Zhongli groaned at the friction and whispered, “My bad,” in return, before dropping her onto the bed.

Without prompting, Y/n unfastened the buttons of her qipao while Zhongli shrugged off his jacket and vest, and finished unbuttoning his shirt. He looked up just in time to find his wife kneeling in front of him. She wrapped her arms back around his neck, burring one hand in his hair, and pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was hungrier. It wasn’t meant to reassure either of them, but rather make up for lost time. Both the time lost during his trip, and the time lost as the mortal life had consumed him.

Zhongli gently pushed Y/n back by the hips, forcing her to awkwardly shuffle around to untuck her dress from beneath her. As soon as it was released from beneath her legs, Zhongli grabbed the hem and pulled it off– leaving her in only her underwear. He gently ran his fingers along the deep mark he’d left on her nape earlier, a fond smile forming on his lips.

Rolling her eyes, Y/n grabbed the open sides of Zhongli’s shirt to pull him down with her when she fell backwards. The sudden shift in perspective startled him, and he was barely able to brace himself on his forearms to avoid crushing his wife.

“Hi, handsome.”

“Hello, my dearest.”

This time Zhongli was the first to lean in, placing a quick peck on her nose and then capturing her lips. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and slid her hand up to cup his face, while he moved one hand up to cup hers.

It honestly felt like they could stay like that forever, just holding one another, but Zhongli suddenly pulled away and trailed kisses down Y/n chest. He left gentle nips at random intervals, earning content sighs from his wife. She gently scratched at his scalp, tugging on occasion to make him groan.

There was something humorous in the way they’d both assumed they would jump each other's bones as soon as Zhongli had stepped in the door, and yet as time went on neither of them was sure they’d even get around to having sex tonight.

When Zhongli finally reached the hem of Y/n’s underwear and took a deep inhale, making her whine in embarrassment. Even after being married for centuries some of his more draconic habits, like his obsession with her scent, were embarrassing.

“My favorite scent,” he said, voice a low rumble as he teased her.

“Zhongli,” Y/n whined.

He slowly pulled her underwear down, letting his claws scrap against her skin. She kicked them off and then put her legs up on his shoulders before tapping the top of his head.

“Where’s my lovely husband?” She cooed, shuddering when he laughed– his breath hitting her clit.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He ducked down, kissing at her inner thighs as his horns and tail slowly took form. Y/n whined as he avoided giving her any stimulation, gripping at his horns and tugging only to earn herself a gentle smack from his tail.

“Ah!”

“Be patient,” Zhongli sighed.

“I have been plenty patient, love.”

His forked tongue flicked out against her clit, making her yelp and squeeze her thighs against his head. Her grip on his horns tightened and she used them to try and pull him closer to her cunt. This time he ran his tongue up to her clit and then back down and into her. Y/n moaned, rocking her hips into his face. Zhongli laughed, digging his claws into her hips, uncaring if he broke skin.

“More,” Y/n moaned, wiggling her hips uselessly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.”

“But-ah!”

Zhongli sucked gently at her clit, then gently raked his claws against her thigh to rub quick circles against her clit. The sudden change in stimulation caught her off guard and her thighs began to crush his head as she clawed helplessly.

The knot in her stomach tightened quickly, making her hips jerk erratically against his face and hand. Her breathing was heavy as choked sounds escaped her lips.

“Cumming, cumming,” she began to mumble, legs twitching. “Fuck!” She yelped as it finally snapped.

Zhongli lapped up her release– his tail flicking about happily behind him– gripping her tightly as she squirmed against him from over stimulation.

“I thought you’d been patient?”

“I was,” Y/n panted, sitting up and starting to undo Zhongli’s pants, “until this morning.”

“I was looking forward to letting you fall apart on my fingers,” he pouted playfully.

“And I, want to be fucked.”

Laughing, Zhongli got off the bed to kick his pants off while Y/n moved further up onto the bed. Zhongli rejoined, settling between her legs and pulling her towards him. His tail looped around her waist, tightening slightly so she couldn’t escape.

“No, no,” Y/n laughed, finally catching her breath. She placed a hand on his chest and the other urging his tail to loosen its hold, guiding him to lay back. “My turn.”

She settled herself above him, resting her weight forward on his chest, and slowly sunk down onto his second dick. His primary dick brushed against her clit as she lowered herself, earning a quiet gasp and making her clench around him. It stung slightly, but she took her time until he was buried inside her completely. With a shaky breath she gave a slow roll of her hips, earning a groan from her husband.

Zhongli placed his hands on her hips, rubbing gentle arcs against her skin with his thumbs, then he ran his hands up and down her sides in a soothing motion as she adjusted to his size. His primary dick rested against his abdomen, and Y/n wrapped her hand around it making him hiss. She ran her hand along it teasingly a few times, laughing at the glare he leveled her with and the way his tail tightened around her waist, before moving her hand back to his chest for support.

Y/n rolled her hips again, taking a deep breath as her clit once again brushed his primary dick, before slowly lifting herself up and sinking back down with a moan. She leaned down to kiss her husband, making him groan as his primary dick was pressed between them. Slowly, she found a rhythm to bounce on, moaning as her clit rubbed against his primary dick that was pressed between them. Zhongli’s claws dug into her hips as he moaned, matching her movements with his thrusts.

The pleasure quickly began to tire Y/n out, leaving her panting and slowing down as her legs began to shake from the building tension in her gut.

“Come now, is that all you’ve got?” Zhongli teased as she began slowing down, breath heavy from exertion.

“If you weren’t so insistent on topping, maybe I’d-ah! Have better stamina.”

Tightening his grip on her hips and his tail back around her waist, he flipped her around and slammed back into her. She yelped at the sudden movement, and he moaned as his primary dick rubbed against Y/n’s abdomen with every thrust. In this position, his dick didn’t rub against her clit as regularly leaving her on edge.

“You make an excellent point, however…” he gave another hard thrust, his sharp teeth being revealed as he grinned down at her, “actually I don’t have a point to make.”

Y/n’s hands twisted the sheets as she bounced almost violently with every thrust, crying out in pleasure.

“So-mean.” She whined, and shakily slid one of her hands between them to rub at her clit. “Cumming.”

“Go ahead,” he whispered, leaning down beside her ear. “My dearest wife.”

At the term of endearment, Y/n’s breath hitched.

“Morax, Morax, Morax,” she gasped out as her legs tightened around his waist and her hips jerked against him.

He replaced her hand with his, rubbing her clit to help her ride out her orgasm as she twitched and panted. Meanwhile he pulled out, wrapping his other hand around both his cocks and jacking them off. White painted Y/n abdomen as he finally stopped rubbing her clit.

They stayed there for a moment, panting. Y/n twitched slightly everytime Zhongli accidentally brushed up against her.

“That was… long overdue,” She sighed, groaning as she carefully unhooked her legs from Zhongli’s waist.

Zhongli, in turn, laughed, and grabbed a towel from their bedside drawer to clean her off.

“No, what’s long overdue is the bath we’re about to take.”

“Ah, that is true,” Y/n laughed, taking Zhongli’s right hand and raising it to her lips so that she could kiss his wedding ring.

As she looked up at him through her lashes, placing gentle kisses along his knuckles and ring, Zhongli had a feeling he knew how his vacation was going to go.

#locked entries #genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #x reader #female reader #zhongli smut #genshin impact smut #smutshot #smut

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unrefinedmusings · 1 year

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snooze

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: after a few blissful weeks of dating, you meet the most important people in Joel's life in the worst way. part 1: sweet, sweet sugar (can be read as standalone)

warnings: allusions to smut, explicit language, age gap (reader is mid 20s, Joel is 36) smidge of nasty talk, one use of y/n

a/n: took ten years to write a sequel but the joel miller girlies are still going strong so who cares? thank you for all the support for part 1! btw this was inspired by the scene in gilmore girls the morning after luke and lorelai's first date hehe

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The mid-morning light awoke you. You were surrounded by warmth, by Joel. He had you wrapped up in his arms, his chest acting as your pillow. The smile on your face grew bigger as you remembered where you were: in his bed, in his house.

Sleepovers happened less than often between you two, and up until last night they had been held exclusively at your apartment. But with Sarah staying over at a friend’s and Tommy staying over at a “friend’s”, you were finally allowed a bigger glimpse into your maybe boyfriend’s life.

You were tempted to stay in bed with Joel, even just to watch him sleep. However, you vaguely remembered the blaring sound of an alarm clock going off earlier. Your response had been to nuzzle further into the man next to you, and it seemed Joel’s was to turn off the clock entirely. Due to your busy schedules, you cherished your time together and did not want to waste any more unconscious.

Despite the sluggishness in your body, you trudged down the stairs to make some coffee for you and your still snoozing man. If you hadn’t still been so dazed from slumber, you would have registered the light noises of chewing and metal scraping against plates. Maybe then you wouldn’t have been standing in front of your maybe not anymore boyfriend’s brother and daughter in nothing but a precariously buttoned flannel shirt.

Your jaw dropped but no sound came out as you stared wide eyed at the two of them sitting at the breakfast table. Their faces glimmered with surprise and a hint of mischief. Tommy’s gaze met Sarah and he sent her an impish grin before turning back to you. Not that you were processing any of that right now. You were too busy silently praying that Joel’s shirt was long enough to cover the array of hickeys he left on your thighs last night. You knew it wasn’t covering the ones he left on your neck.

The man’s got a possessive streak.

Tommy cleared his throat before speaking.

“Hel-“

That’s all he could utter before you darted right back up the stairs to Joel’s room. You shut the door behind you before letting out a long, shuddering exhale and pacing the room.

A familiar groan caught your attention. “Baby, c’mon back to bed.”

There you were, trying to recover from one of the most mortifying moments of your life, and there he was, barely awake and looking delicious with the sheets lying dangerously low around his naked waist.

Ugh, men. It wasn’t enough to just be unhelpful. He had to be sexy and distracting right now too.

With heavy eyelids, Joel catches your form across the room. He lingers on your bare legs before meeting your glare with a suggestive grin.

“Think I need somethin’ sweet to start the day. Why dontcha come sit that pretty pussy on my face, sugar?”

For a second, you forget about everything but his tongue and all it was capable of.

NO!

“We’re not alone…in the house,” you said meekly.

Joel sat up in bed before replying, “What?”

“Tommy and Sarah are in the kitchen! I went downstairs to make coffee and walked in on them eating breakfast. I ran back up before they could even say anything.”

“They’re not supposed to be home until 10.”

You grabbed his watch from the dresser and tossed it at him. “It’s 10:30! We slept through your alarm!”

He let out a grunt of annoyance before getting out of bed and grabbing a pair of sweats off the floor.

“I’m sorry, sugar. We’ll explain it to ‘em and-“, he paused, turning to you. “Hold on now, did you go downstairs like that?”

“…Yes.”

“You’re not wearing any pants.”

“I know that!”

“You mean to tell me my brother saw you with no pants on?”

“Seriously? That’s what you’re focused on right now?”

“I don’t want Tommy gettin’ any ideas about what’s mine.”

His. His. His. He said I’m h—no!

You forced yourself to focus on planning an escape.

“Do you think I could climb out the window?”

He shot you a look. The look. “You are not climbing out the goddamn window.”

“Back door?”

Joel lets out a long exhale before walking over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into his chest and you melt into the embrace, his hands gently rubbing your back to comfort you further.

“Sugar, we’re gonna get dressed, go downstairs, say hello, and if you want, have breakfast with Sarah and Tommy. If not, I’ll take you out the front door and give ya’ a ride home.”

“…breakfast sounds good.”

You feel the rumble of his laugh before a press of his lips meets your forehead.

After finally getting some bottoms on, Joel leads you downstairs, undeterred by your dragging feet. You couldn’t help it, you were so embarrassed.

This plus the age difference…they probably think I’m some airhead.

As you reach the kitchen, Joel speaks, “Sarah, Tommy.” He pauses before turning to you, a small but proud smile on his face, and says, “I’d like you to meet Y/N. We’ve been dating a few weeks now.”

The two Millers at the table send you bright smiles and welcome you to their home. You give them a shy smile and a wave, slightly reassured by their hospitality. The two of them traded your plate back and forth across the table until it’s piled high with waffles, eggs, and bacon.

After a few minutes of pleasant small talk, Joel turned to Sarah and, in a more serious tone, spoke, “Now, I’m sorry I sprung this on you with no warni—“

“I already knew,” Sarah interrupted. “You were pretty insistent Uncle Tommy make plans once I told you about my sleepover at Hannah’s. Why else would you need the house all to yourself? Overnight too? Not to mention,” she paused to pop a blueberry in her mouth, “you’ve been bathing more often. Generally, looking less scruffy. I knew something was up.”

You couldn’t help but snort at her comment. Joel grumbled around a forkful of eggs, ��Five minutes at breakfast and you two are already gangin’ up on me.”

Tommy rolled his eyes at his brother.

As if Joel minded that his two girls were getting along.

---

💕💕💕 Thank you for reading 💕💕💕

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #hbo the last of us #hbo tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller imagine

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webslingingslasher · 4 months

Text

banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

(yes, i reposted this. i needed to edit the dates. thank you to those who will re-reblog and re-like.)

it's finally here. a major quick thank you for all the love and patience everyone has shown me over this series. i hope it's worth the wait.

word count: 11k.

it's getting real now...

CHAPTER TWO: MASTERMIND

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Chistine Kiko just handed you an eighth of mushrooms and you weren’t one to disappoint. Even if it was your first time. “My fucking dad wouldn’t let me do anything in the Hamptons. I literally only had my dab pen and coke. Like, what kind of person does that?”

They taste like fucking shit, Christine licked her pudgy fingers dry while you were gagging between chews. “He sounds,” baby barf, “like a monster.” She doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm, “thank you! Everyone said I was being dramatic too, glad to know I can rely on you.”

You cough on the last swallow, Christine patted at your back, a red solo cup pushed in your hand. “Drink. I mean, he bossed me around all summer too. He thinks I wanna be like him, like, try that with your other kids?” You pull the cup down, “you’re an only child?”

Christine shrugs, “it’s never too late.” You hum while you finish the mixture, it was ultra sweet, you assume it was full of booze. “So, basically, you’re gonna have a super fun time and I will totally be here for you if you need me, but I have friends to see, ya know?”

It’s a nice way of saying she will absolutely not be around if you need her. You stop her with a hand on her wrist, “wait, how long until this hits? Will I know?” Christine smirks, “about an hour, give or take. Ride the wave and pick a bed to land in.”

You’re alone for an entire two minutes, just enough time to get your own cup of jungle juice, the same mixture as Christine’s, before an arm drops around your shoulders. The voice alone makes you want to eat sand, you just know he’s about to say something stupid.

With his girlfriend in tow, blonde hair whips towards you, a snotty smirk, “did you see Harvey yet?” It takes everything in you not to wack his arm. “No, not yet.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s going to love your top.” You huff at him, “this wasn’t even the shirt Ally wanted me to wear, so, fuck you!” Matt holds a hand to his chest, “I am in a committed relationship, and even if I wasn’t, ew.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, blondie. I’ve seen cuter rats.” He narrows his eyes, “I will pray for evil to find you.” Ally gasps, “Matty, no.”

Holding a middle finger up, your eyes wander around the room until you zone in on Harvey resting against the staircase, a gleam of light hits his wrist, silver dances in your eyes.

Harvey must have felt you, his chin rises in a poor excuse for a nod. You flash a four finger wave, raising your cup to your mouth when he starts laughing with a friend. Matt pokes your elbow at the interaction, “what kind of dress are you wearing to the wedding?”

You grin, “I’m not sure yet, I don’t wanna clash with Ally.” You turn to her, “we both can’t wear white, right?”

“Hey, hey, hey, if anyone’s going to marry Ally it’s me, and it’ll be in a church so you’ll either sit it out or burn.”

Checking your phone you nibble at your lip, thirty eight minutes. Trent’s nowhere to be found, you need to start looking. And subtly. You take a step back, pretending to be interested in a fake text. “Give me five minutes, I need to make a call.” Ally’s quick to give the go ahead, “okay, text me if you can’t find us!”

Thirty seven minutes. Your shoulder hits a freshman’s, jungle juice splashes on the hardwood; spilling out an apology you step over the puddle. A boy you haven’t seen before smiles at you, if you weren’t on a mission, you’d be saying hello.

You loop by the garage, heart stuttering when you capture Peter and Ethan playing a game of beer pong. Trent wasn’t there, your last hope and prayer was in the backyard.

Surrounded by rose bushes, the chapter president had his lips wrapped around a cigarette. The red glow lit his cheeks up on the inhale, two girls and another guy with him, you think you shared a class with one of the girls last year.

Trent catches your eyes, it’s clear you both don’t want anyone to know what’s going on. He directed his gaze towards your phone, a hand moved around in his pocket before he produced his own.

You stare at your home screen, expecting the message any second. It comes when you move back inside.

‘Use the backstairs, my room is on the left at the end of the hall.’

‘Give me five minutes.’

Thirty two minutes, you don’t have any time to waste. Your feet hit the stairs.

Trent’s room is messy and terribly decorated. Clothes covered the floor, empty bowls and plates scattered across his desk, a still sweating, sealed water bottle makes you smack your lips. How tempting.

A string of flags, a political one that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, a ‘Saturdays are for the boys’ one, and a black and white american flag. The trio makes you roll your eyes, it seems very fitting for his personality. No shoe has a matching partner in the entire room, you’re scared to think of what might be under his bed.

You don’t feel safe or comfortable enough to sit on it either, it’s unmade and with a noticeable and questionable looking stain. He does have a couch though, and it looks very, very comfortable. It feels like you’d sink right in. It’s not enticing enough, you don’t trust it.

You check your phone again, it’s been five minutes and it could be the liquor, but you feel a slight wobble. Twenty three minutes until blast off Trent slides through a small crack in the door, your arms cross defensively. “I know you’re not fucking me, but you can at least pretend to care about my time.”

“Wrong. I wouldn’t care about you, even if you were fucking me.” He proudly takes a seat at his desk, he offers you nothing. A smug look rolls over, “you’ve built it up long enough, what do you need from me?”

The sooner it’s over, the better. “My friends and I have a bet on your potential new members, if the person I pick makes it through recruitment, I win. I need you to make sure I win.”

Trent’s facade slips, even just for a millisecond. “One more time, and I need you to be very clear on it, alright?”

Were you slurring your words? You try to speak clearer. “I know someone who’s going to pledge, and I promise you he has no involvement in this, but I need him to be recruited so I can win some money. All I need is for you to make sure I win and they don’t.”

A brief pause, Trent looks sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that.” You cut him off, he accepted the terms last Friday, and again when you sent over copies of your- Noa’s hard discoveries.

“No, no, Trent, you did. You said anything I needed, and I need this.”

“If you would’ve told me what you needed, you would’ve known I couldn’t help you.”

“This is bullshit, I’ll start singing from the rooftops about your payoff.”

“No, you won’t. I’m the president, so I get final say on who we fully recruit-” You roll your eyes, “I know.”

“- but I don’t get to choose who makes it past rush, you need a member to bid on a pledge. You need someone to big brother him, I can’t do that. If I get involved it becomes dirty rushing, and that is the biggest ‘no no’ to exist.”

You slump, everything comes crashing down. “So… you can’t even pull rank here?” Trent shakes his head, “absolutely not.”

“So this was all for nothing?”

“If you can find a member to bid on him, you have my promise he’ll make it, and I’ll cut whoever you need so you can win. That’s it.”

You’re at a loss, you have no other member you could ask. Matt could never keep a secret, you didn’t know Ethan well enough and there was no way in hell you’d ask- “Want my advice? Parker is your best bet.”

You shake your head wildly, it takes a moment for your mind to click back into place. “You really want to involve someone else into this? You know what’s at stake, right?” You’re hinting at his secret, Trent shrugs.

“If anyone is going to know about it, I’d want it to be Parker. He can keep a secret and has no issue in playing dirty if he’s in on it.” You’re suddenly very thirsty, you keep licking your lips for moisture.

“He doesn’t know who I am.” Not a total lie.

“Then introduce yourself.”

You shouldn’t have to do anything, he’s the one not making good on his promise. You made good on your end and in return he’s barely lifting a finger. Maybe it had something to do with not wanting Peter involved due to fear of judgment. Or, maybe he’d be impressed like Trent.

If you wanted Peter to be a conquest, it couldn’t start by you asking for a favor. That was friend behavior, and you wanted to be anything but friends. This was Trent’s problem, not yours. He doesn’t understand that you can make things difficult for him if he backs out.

Your tongue is thick and you need water. You have no time for this.

“Listen, Trent. This is your problem. I held up my end of the bargain, and you have to do yours. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re going to pledge Isaac Barns. If you don’t, I’ll turn shit around and make this the dirty frat, the frat that cheated for first place.”

Trent held a clenched jaw, you saw nothing but fury in his eyes. “We’ll figure something out. No need to get mouthy.” If you had more time you’d entertain his comment, but it’s clear he’d figure something out.

You eye the plastic water bottle next to him, snatching it from the side. “And I’m taking this, talk to me when you have a plan, Simpson!” When his door slams shut, it rings in your ears.

You feel every muscle in your legs move while you walk, and within minutes it seemed like everything got brighter. A vibration washes down the back of your thigh, you slap around, it’s your phone. A single text.

‘friend?’

You’ve been missing too long, one way to stop the questions.

‘Finding Harvey…’ the response was a keyboard smash.

Blinking harsh, the room feels like it’s blending together. You’ve never felt this way, it’s like the entire house is moving underneath your feet. The floor waves you into the crowd, everything feels like it’s slow motion, yet sped up at the same time.

“Hey!” You don’t know who it is, it’s a stranger, his voice sounds distorted. You shake your head clear, and step right by him. You’re on a mission and can’t be sidetracked, things are hitting quickly and you need to find Harvey to explain plans have taken a very sharp left.

A spin of bodies, you find one that stands out. You catch her shoulders.

“Lindsey!” You fight for the words, they’re like butter. “Have you seen Harvey Guyn?”

She’s fucking plastered, a slur of letters string out. “... hall.. wine… yeah! haha…” A gasp when she sees a friend across the house, you’re forgotten in a second. Putting your faith in her, you take careful steps, slapping your hands on the wine closet and tugging it open.

“Harvey! You in here? Lindsey said you were-” there was no chance to finish, Harvey was busy doing it for you. His head was thrown back on the wall tiles, a guttural moan ripped from his throat. Wrapped around his fist was a tight hold of black hair, to help Christine Kiko keep his dick swallowed down.

“Oh shit,” you slam the door on them, standing in shock for a few seconds. It wasn’t about him hooking up with her, he could do what he wanted. But it wasn’t everyday you saw something like that in person, and you had to give credit to Christine, she was taking it like a champ.

It gave you an out for the night, you were too high for anything but breathing.

Thank god for Christine Kiko. And really bless her for catching up with you in record time spurting apologies while wiping her mouth clean. “I know, I know, you guys were hooking up, but-”

You stop her sorry, “how’d you know?” She rakes her long nails through her hair to untangle it, it comes out clean instantly. “My dad is super simping for his dad and we vacationed together this year so he had me try and make Harvey happy so he could tell his dad they should do business.”

Christine has no idea how fucked up that sounds, “what would he have done if you were his son?” She doesn’t miss a beat, “Harvey swings both ways, doesn’t he?”

Music shakes your feet, Christine’s hair looks soft. It’s black and pin-straight, you reach out, you comb your fingers through without a hint of struggle. “Wow, you take such good care of your hair.”

“Rice water, you’re welcome.” She looks back at the door, “I need some things to finish up, but um, you feeling alright? It looks like it’s settling in.” It is. You’re busy twisting the cap on your water bottle, the small ridges skate across your thumb to create a soothing repetition. “Yeah.”

It makes her smile, “yeah? You should go outside, the trees look fucking awesome, even when it’s dark.” You thank her for the idea, and stand still for a little too long after Christine retreats back to the wine closet. You think it’s your brain trying to remember how to walk, you blame the bass reverberating off the flooring.

The second you’re able to actually pick your feet up, you move three steps before noticing it feels like you have lead boots on. You clomp towards the couches, perched on the side, sitting pretty, was your best friend.

Making eye contact, you replay what just happened. You can’t stop it, it’s uncontrollable, bubbling from your throat, you laugh. Loudly. The longer you laugh, the more intense it gets. Ally has no idea what’s going on, but you assume the giggle is contagious.

“What! Tell me!” You’re trying, but you can’t catch your breath. Each time you try to push more than two words out, you’re back to laughing so hard your shoulders shake. There’s only one reason you’re finding this so funny, you try to collect yourself. “I…” Another round, Ally’s right with you; you think she’s just excited to see what’s got you so giddy.

“Okay, okay. Christine Kiko gave me some shrooms, and they, like, just hit. Also, I just caught her sucking Harvey’s dick.” Ally sputters, “what?!” A hand covers her mouth, the imagery catching up to her. “Oh my god!” You nod, she said it better than you could. “And you saw this?!” It’s like the idea is unbelievable to her. “Uh huh, right in front of me.”

Ally presses the hand covering her mouth, to her cheek. A moment of silence, until she starts to laugh just like you did. You almost copy, until she stops and gives you an ironclad look, “wait, did you say mushrooms?”

You pretend your mind is exploding. “I’m experiencing things I couldn’t explain right now.” Ally’s hair looks almost as soft as Christine’s. You grab a thick piece, breaking it into thirds and start to braid. It feels like rope, your fingers turn into a ball of yarn, fumbling into one useless clump.

“Are you okay? Matty and I were about to go upstairs.” Your eyes flash towards the stairs on instinct, then you're back at her. “Coming back down?” Ally grins and sends you a wink, “not if I give him a reason not to.” She drops her grin, “unless you need company, in that case, I’m here for you.”

Just because you chose to spend your night tripping, it doesn’t mean Ally has to ditch bedtime with her boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be an incredibly selfish thing to do? “I don’t need a trip sitter, I have myself. And Christine. Also, have you seen Prince?”

“Uh, no. He went off with Rocco the second we got here.” Rocco, the second you hear his name, you think of his hair, how does one achieve an afro? Would it be wrong to ask?

“Cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.” Ally eyes you, she’s trying to make sure you’re fully okay before she pulls Matt upstairs. You flash a smile, it’s enough to have her drop her shoulders in relief. “You always have me, you know where I’ll be.”

“And I am so, so grateful for you, Ally Storm.” Because, you are. In your opinion, mushrooms make you emotional. You went from laughing to appreciative in one minute, suddenly you’re hugging your best friend while holding back tears. “You are so kind, and patient, and nice, and, like, so super supportive to me.”

Ally squeezes you right back, “you should do drugs more often, I’m loving the praise.” You pull back to wink at her, “it’s only cause you’re so great. Go do your boyfriend, since I can’t get any tonight.”

“You think sex on shrooms would be good?” The idea hadn’t occurred, but thinking about it makes you agree with her. “Sex on hallucinogens? That’s boyfriend behavior.” Ally pats your arm, “next time, invite me. I’ll let you know how it is.”

A twinkle in her eye appears, you dread what’s about to happen. “Sup, slugger?” The arm around you is entirely too heavy, but oddly comforting. Like a weighted blanket. “She took mushrooms.” You nod, Matt rubs your shoulder, you almost purr. “Having fun?” Normally, you have a love hate relationship with Matt. You both love to hate each other, but not seriously. Not that it’s been said, but you know Matt would protect you with anything in him if needed.

Tonight, right now, Matt is a solid force. “Permission to hug?” Ally’s eyes widen, she almost doubles down on the sentiment of doing drugs more often. “You wanna full on, front touch me?” Nevermind, Matt just ruined it, like he ruins everything. “Not anymore, you ruined it.”

“Oh, no, no, no. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Before you can try and dodge it, Matt’s got you in his hold. It’s very obvious he’s doing it for the pure enjoyment of annoying you, it’s almost endearing. Almost. You’d fight better at shoving him away but he’s got a warmth radiating from his chest and into yours.

Peter watches you bump hips across the room with Paul’s girlfriend, your fingers pull at her hair. A wild look crosses her face, two of you giggling.

“I didn’t know she was Ally’s friend.” Ethan scratches at his arm, Peter’s guard goes up. He knows why he’s surprised to know you were the friend in question, he doesn’t know why Ethan thinks so too.

Ethan shrugs and asks Peter about something, he can’t focus. “You know her?”

“Yeah, that’s my bio girl.”

Peter felt constricted, he doesn’t know why. “Wait, what? That’s my freshman.”

Ethan stares at the side of Peter’s head. “She’s not a freshman.” Peter sneers at his friend, “yeah, no shit.” Ethan kisses his teeth, “I invited her to the party.” He doesn’t know why, but Peter feels slightly challenged.

“So did I.” His arms cross over his chest, he mumbles the rest. “On the first day.”

“Funny. When I asked she said she had no plans.”

Peter can feel his jaw clench, he wants to kind of fucking punch him, if he’s being honest. And that makes him even more upset, because why is he so threatened? Ethan may have an inkling that his best friend wants you more than he does, but he also wants him to know he could have competition.

“Funny.” It’s clear Peter did not find it funny.

“She’s cool. You know, witty, kind, pretty…” Peter’s doing what he can to keep himself from walking away, he wants to scream that he had eyes on you first. But that’s an insane thought, only one that could be casted by a witch.

“She’s difficult and entitled.”

All Ethan hears is ‘she’s fucking perfect for me.’ And his mind was made up, you were no longer someone he’d pursue. You’re all Parker’s, because he wants you. Even if he won’t admit it, yet.

“So, you have no issue with me moving in on that?” Peter’s a little too quiet, choosing to nurse on his beer in hand. “Do what you want, man.” He finishes his drink, he looks back up at you, sharing a warm embrace with Paul.

“Cause, I don’t mind leaving it alone, if you want.” It takes a second, but Peter lightly shrugs. No words needed to be said, it told Ethan everything he needed to know. “You saw her first, it’s only fair.” It’s tiny, and it’s a microflash, but Peter grinned. What was understood, didn’t need to be explained.

Heavy steps found themselves at a familiar face.

“My roommate ditched me and this floor looks like a pirate ship.” You point down for good measure, Ethan’s a good sport and looks with you. “Is it moving?”

You nod quickly, glad he too can see the shifting boards. Ethan’s sweater catches your attention, it looks soft. By default he looks like a teddy bear, you can’t hold yourself back, latching yourself to the cashmere you run your hands over his back.

“It’s so soft.”

Ethan laughs, he has no issue returning the love. You melt under his touch, everything is so warm. “I can feel your hands.” Your lab partner knows exactly what’s going on, “yeah? What’d you take, X?”

You pull back to spread pixie dust from your fingertips, “magic mushrooms.” Lights flash in cohesion with the music, you’re awe at the sharp beauty. Swirls of color cloud your vision, loud bass rings your ears. Vibrations flow from your toes up to your knees, a circle of laughter around you is contagious.

You can’t stop the giggles, you weren’t sure who was laughing or why but it seemed so fitting.

You throw your head back, the room spins and you squeal when your waist is held tight.

“Ethan!” You hug him again, you can’t stop patting his sweater. “Wanna do some shots?” Ethan shakes his head, “no, you want some water.” You stop, “oh my god, yeah, that sounds so good.” Your lower back is nudged, you’re guided into the kitchen where you see a blur of motion.

Stumbling, your back collides into another body. You spin quickly, you can’t believe it’s taken this long to see him.

“Peter, hi!”

Your arms loop around his back, you pull him tight to you and sigh. He’s broader than Ethan, but his shirt can’t match Ethan’s sweater. Peter feels oddly frozen, you shuffle into him further, an awkward pat is granted to the middle of your back. “Hi.”

“No, no, like this.” You fix the placement, it’s like he’s never given a hug in his entire life. Peter’s offering no warmth, it feels like he’s just allowing you to have this moment. You give him an unsure glance when you pull back, “I’ll make you better, don’t worry.”

You’re stopped before you could try and teach Peter a proper hug. “Let’s not hug, Parker.” You blink wildly at your lab partner, before looking back at Peter, he has an unimpressed gaze on Ethan. “No hugs? You don’t like hugs?”

It’s unacceptable, you pull at Ethan’s arm. “Here, show him how it’s done.” Ethan tries to shake his head, you loop around his waist tightly. “See, Peter? This is how you hug.”

“I know how to hug.”

You smile and nudge away from the cashmere, your arms open wide. “Okay, show me.”

“No.”

A frown takes over, since he’s being mean, you can too.

“Fine. I don’t like your haircut, how about that?” Peter lacks the reaction you want him to give, “thank you.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Christine should’ve given you the mushrooms instead, you’re kinda grumpy.”

Ethan pushes you back, “okay, D.A.R.E. Water.” You took the bottle and looked between the two friends. “Be honest, did you guys know they were hooking up?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, you had the urge to rub it out. Ethan slapped your hand down. “Who?” You hold a finger up to pause the conversation, water has never tasted so clear.

“Mmm…” you blink awake. “Harvey and Christine. Did you think he wasn’t planning on me finding out? Was he fully prepared to try and bang me after he got head from another girl? Cause, I don’t think so.”

A song you haven’t heard before plays, it sends waves of warmth over your skin.

Ethan shrugs, “sounds like Harvey, yeah.”

You jeer around the plastic bottle, “boo.” Peter’s short circuiting in his brain. You were hooking up with Harvey? The pieces were muddling. His Harvey? That guy sucks. Peter reacts subconsciously, grabbing whatever you handed him. An empty water bottle, you smile, “thanks!” He grunts before tossing it in the kitchen sink.

“This party would be so much better if Taylor Swift was playing.”

It takes everything in Peter not to roll his eyes, Ethan one ups him in a second.

“Which album?”

You gasp, Peter swears he sees a sparkle in your eyes. For a split second he regrets not asking you the same thing. “Any of them! Do you like her too?”

Peter thought his best friend read between the lines from their earlier conversation. He assumes he didn’t.

“She’s alright, I have a few of her vinyls.” Record scratch, Peter just lost you. Your hand grabbed Ethan’s shoulder, you leaned in closer and gave him doe eyes. “No way, I don’t believe you. Which ones?”

Ethan laughs, “I have them in my room, swear to god. I like her sister albums.”

Peter watches your hand slide down his sleeve until you latch around his wrist, “show me.” Ethan shrugs, “alright, we can-” Peter steps in front of him, the path blocked.

“Keznek.” As in, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, right?

“Parker.” As in, do you really think that low of me?

A third name is brought into the mix, Peter looks down, you’re smiling big at him and for a second he feels like he’s smiling back.

“Who’s that?”

You point at yourself, “me.”

He finally has your name, it’s fitting. He doesn’t think he’s ever thought a name could fit a person, until he heard yours. A weird urge to compliment it tugs at him, he buries it down. Witch.

Attention back on Ethan, “you swear you have them?” He’s almost offended you’d ask, “promise.” You look to Peter, “can you confirm?” Peter sucks in a breath through his teeth, he shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.”

The answer is obvious, “I have to verify, if you’re telling the truth you’ll win cool points forever.” Plan impeded, the chapter president just walked through the kitchen, a gleam in the wolves eye. His hand clapped Peter’s chest, the light abuse caused you to frown.

“Nice to see you’re making friends with Parker.”

You flip the script, a fake smile. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Ethan laughed behind you and was immediately silenced with a harsh glare from Trent. “Watch it, Keznek.” Peter’s face hardened at the tone.

“You’re taking my advice, I love to see it.”

Peter has his eyes on you, it takes strength to ignore it. “Wanna talk about advice? You should play some Taylor Swift.” Trent scoffs, “get fucked.” Peter speaks up before you have a chance, “hey, woah.” The head of the house wasn’t about to be talked to like he was a chapter officer, even if he was. His response was pushing Peter back and walking away.

“I understand why he’s the president,” you watch the room swirl together. “He’s super mature.” Smacking your lips, you blindly reach for Ethan. “Do you see these fucking lights right now?” Peter glances around, it’s the same party lighting they use each time.

“Are they dragging?” You focus in, when you move your head slow trails of light follow. “Yeah, woah.” Peter clears his throat, the sound cupped around your ears. “Your friend here, freshman?” You spin, “who’s friend?”

Peter looks at Ethan for a second, you’re busy trying to pull at a loose thread on Peter’s sleeve. “How are you getting home tonight?” You twirl the strand around your finger, the tension snaps it. When the blood returns to your fingertip, it warms your entire hand.

“Dunno yet. I’ll figure it out later.” You look down at your feet, they seem like they’re a million miles away from you. The floor shifts underneath you, it makes your knees shake, you clutch Ethan’s arm to balance yourself. “Pirate ship?” You nod, “ahoy, matey.”

Peter shifts when you take him in, more or less just focused on his face. He stands a little taller, then questions it, because why would he care about how tall you perceived him to be? “Peter,” he waits. Pointing behind you, “wanna do a shot? Ethan refused, like he hates me or something.” You can’t stop looking at him, the lights dance over his face, casting him in an angelic glow like no other.

“You think mixing shots with mushrooms is a good idea?” You move around, like your body couldn’t stand holding still. “Just one.” One wouldn’t hurt, and it’s not like he’s doing it for you or anything, he planned on having a shot anyways. You were just another person to pour for.

“Sure. Pick the poison.” You answer quickly, an honest response. “Rat.” Ethan starts to laugh and it’s contagious, you start giggling too. You don’t know why he’s laughing, but it feels good to have someone to laugh with. Peter tilts his head to the ceiling with a heavy sigh, “no, freshman. I meant booze.”

“Oh! Not vodka, I hate vodka, I can taste it in anything, even when Ally mixes it with Hawaiian Punch. So, please never give me vodka. I hate it.”

Peter smirks at Ethan, “so, vodka?” You sputter, you wonder if you confused love and hate in your speech. You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no, Peter. I hate vodka, please don’t give me any.”

Ethan slides a bottle down to Peter, it’s a party classic. Peter waits on you, “this good enough for you, princess?” It was sarcastic as all hell, but it still made you feel warm and fuzzy. “Yes, prince.” Peter just shook his head while he poured them up.

Raised glasses, you wait for the toast. “Here’s to A’s, C’s, and double D’s.” The words made you send a glare to Peter, it seemed like he was waiting for it. “You know, like grades?” It’s not what he meant, all three of you knew it, but you couldn’t fight him on it either. It still works, a cheer is a cheer.

Normally, you’d find Fireball warming, tonight, you find it burning. You almost choke on it, holding it in your mouth for longer than you should’ve, the instant sting had caught you off guard. “Jesus Christ, freshy. Swallow.” It’s like you need a reminder, you’re able to take it down; a shutter takes over your body.

You turn to your lab partner, a sour look on your face. “Why did you let me do that? You’re supposed to be smart.” Ethan holds his hands up, you’re not about to throw him under the bus. “Hey, I tried. You’re the one that only wanted Parker’s opinion.”

SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 9TH. CATHEDRAL HALL.

Peter was dragged out of his bed a little too early for a saturday in his opinion. He woke up to Trent hanging over his bed, poking him harshly on his shoulder. “The fuck do you want, Simpson?” If Peter had to guess what time it was by the shadow in his room, it was pushing early morning.

“Get up. We need to go somewhere.” Peter blinked quickly, dragging a heavy hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Now?” Trent started to stab, Peter slapped his hand away. “The fuck, man?” His president wasn’t playing around. “Get the fuck up, Parker.”

Only when Peter sat up did Trent back away, “don’t wake anyone up. I need you downstairs in five.” When his door was shut, Peter squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to taste the idea of sleep one more time. Then, he got up, tugged on sweatpants and a hoodie, and silently crept downstairs.

Peter tried to ask what was going on, and where they were going, but Trent just kept saying, ‘you’ll see,’ and ‘shut the fuck up and trust me.’ It wasn’t until he was walking up the steps to Cathedral hall, he had an odd feeling, a slight buzz in his stomach. It heightened when they took a turn for the girls section.

“Hey, Simpson, if this is a planned parenthood thing-”

“Shut the fuck up, Parker.” Out of nowhere he stopped, Peter almost ran into him. Trent banged on an decorated door, a whiteboard with Ally’s name, the other one had been swiped, the name unclear. “I thought Ally was at the house?” Trent beat the door harder, “she is.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, he was about to ask, yet again, why they were there. The answer came when the door flew open, eyes squinting at the hallway lighting, stands you. “You’re not Ally.”

Peter’s slightly surprised you’re home, he had no idea when or how you left last night. He also doesn’t really care.

“No shit,” you lightly scoffed when Trent shoved his way in, your shoulder hitting the doorframe. “Good morning to you, too, dick.” Peter gently walked in, making sure not to bump against you. It made you smile lightly, “good morning, Peter.” He nodded back, “morning.” Trent bounced on Ally’s bed, it produced a loud creak. “No wonder she’s always at the house.”

You sat on the edge of your own bed, gesturing to the spot next to you or your desk chair for a seating option for Peter; he chose the chair. Peter looked over your face while you woke up, your eyes puffy from being rubbed at, you stretched with arms over your head, a peek of skin showed your stomach.

“You look sick.” It snapped you from your daze, you frowned at Trent. “Thanks, it’s my natural beauty.” Trent pulled a sour look, “that’s what girls look like without makeup?” Peter doesn’t really notice a difference, and that’s not a bad thing. “It’s too early for your shit, Simpson.” He looks towards you, you poke your tongue out at Trent, a childish moment to prove you had someone on your side and not his.

Peter watches you lean back, velvety thighs on display. A hand goes behind your back, a plush resurfaced. Spider-Man sits on your lap, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He thinks it’s a squishmellow of some sort, he remembers he hooked up with a girl last year with at least twenty on her bed. She didn’t have a Spider-Man one though.

“How are you feeling?” You look tired, maybe a little hungover. Little to no energy. Peter thinks it’s the comedown of your previous night's choices. You grin, holding Spider-Man a little tighter. “Like a champ, you?”

Trent scoffs, “enough bullshit, wench. You know why we’re here.” Peter feels the hair on his neck stand up, Trent can be a prick, but he really has a vendetta against you. “Jesus Christ, Simpson. She’s a human being.” It’s the bare minimum, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “It’s okay, Peter. He’s just mad he can’t satisfy women.”

Trent flies up, “fuck you! I’m doing you a fucking favor and-” Peter stands up just as quick, pushing Trent back down with a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, Simpson.” With Peter as mediator, you don’t worry about standing up for yourself.

“You’re not doing me a favor, I’m doing you a favor! You’re the one that couldn’t hold up your end of the bargain, you asshole!” Trent fights against Peter’s hold, “you’re the one that came to me!” You throw your Spider-Man to the side and step up, Peter backs up against your chest, literally using his body as a barrier. “You’re the one that involved Peter!”

Peter shoves hard on Trent’s chest, it sends him flying back into Ally’s bed. You step back, Peter’s doing his best to look between the two of you. It’s exasperated, “involved me in what?” It goes silent, you weren’t going to say anything, you were the one who told Trent to fix it. Trent’s the one that brought in Peter, Trent’s the one to surprise you with a visit.

Trent’s breathing is harsh, he’s more worked up than you are. You don’t know if it’s the situation or your comments, but you’re not saying a word until he does. “Look, your friend here, she’s the one that got us the intel on the other frats.” Trent’s a lot more gentle this time around, you think it may have something with the way Peter’s looking at him, daring him to try and make a move.

Peter glances back at you, you look away, a poster more interesting. “She needs something in return and I can’t help her. I told her to ask you and I’d look the other way, but someone had to be difficult.”

“I held up my end, Simpson. You do the same.” Trent huffed, “I fucking told you-” he lowered his voice at Peter’s glare, “- that I couldn’t do anything. I told you to ask Parker and you were the one that stormed out all pissed. I brought him here, isn’t that good enough?”

Your arms cross, no, it wasn’t good enough. “I never wanted to involve Peter, I told you that last night. I just wanted you to figure out a way to fix it.” Trent throws his arm out at Peter, “I did! He’s fucking here! He’s gonna fucking fix it!”

Peter feels like he’s going crazy, “fix what?” His chapter president rubs at his forehead, a heavy sigh. “You need to pledge… Fuck, what was his name?” You roll your eyes, you have little to no hope. “Isaac Barns.” Trent nods, “yeah, him. Parker, all I need you to do is pledge him and this-” an allover gesture to your body, “-goes away.”

Peter takes a second to let it sink in, he almost laughs, but it seems a little too real to be a joke. “Dirty rushing, really? You do know what’s at stake if I say yes, right?” Trent’s jaw looks like it’s about to break into a thousand pieces with the tension it’s under. “Yes, Parker, I know what I’m asking.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “right, so you understand why I have to say no.”

You jump in, your hand on Peter’s arm, pulling him to face you. He’s staring at the placement, it’s sending a burn up and down, radiating heat. You pull away before he can shake your hold off, “please?” Peter steps away from Trent with a final warning glance, “tell me, freshman. Are you in a sorority?” You frown, “no.” He nods, like he already knew the answer. “Right. And are you aware of what could happen to me if I agree?” You have an idea, and it tells you it wouldn’t be good. “That’s if you get caught, you have Trent’s go ahead.”

Peter laughs, he doesn’t give a shit Trent’s right there. “You think I trust him to have my back? He’d throw me under the bus in a second.” Peter doesn’t know what you know, you look in Trent’s eyes when you respond, making it clear that that would never happen. “Then trust me, and trust me when I say he won’t.”

Trent looks away from Peter, he makes the connection in a second.

“What do you have on Simpson?” You sputter, you feel a flush of warmth coat you. “I’m not like… some blackmailer or anything.” Trent shouts out from the bed, “ha!” Your eyes flash to the same poster from before, nothing has changed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. President. Do you want to share with the peanut gallery?” Peter raises his hands, displeased, “don’t insult me and ask for a favor in the same breath.”

“Look, Parker, just fucking pledge the kid, alright? It stays between us. Don’t think I don’t have shit to lose by letting this happen. I have the same risk you do.” Peter disagrees, “you’re not the one pledging.” Trent stands up, “but I’m cutting whoever she tells me. We’re both playing dirty.”

Peter’s trying to think about it logically, he just doesn’t understand why. You have all the answers, they’re only there because of you. “Why?” You pause, “what, this guy your boyfriend or something?” You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no. Not at all. He doesn’t even know I’m doing this. He’s just a person I know who’s rushing, that’s it.”

Peter kisses his teeth and shakes his head in disbelief, “yeah, I don’t know about that.” Total defeat, you were at a loss. Your answer was Trent, if Peter wouldn’t do it, Trent needed to find someone who would. “Trent,” it comes out as a whine, a defiant toddler pointing at Peter.

“C’mon, Parker. Think about this. You’re smarter than your own good.” Peter sizes his president up, he really doesn’t like what he’s implying. “And I’m supposed to trust you?” You push on Peter’s arm, “no, you’re supposed to trust me. Trent won’t touch you, no matter your answer. Even though I really wish it was yes.”

Peter’s doing his best to push down all emotion, because if he wasn’t, he’d find out that he wanted to say yes. Just because you asked him. And that’s not who he is, or what he does. He’s known you for a week and he’s about to put his entire academic career at hand, it’s dehumanizing to himself. Witch.

“Fine.” You cheer, Peter’s whipped into a side hug. He claws your arms away from him, “I didn’t say yes. I’ll think about it, okay?” You nod, it’s enough for you, “thank you so much, Peter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Trent throws his hands up, “hello? You’re welcome.” You sneer at him, “you did nothing but put it all on Peter.” Peter tilts his head, he didn’t think about it like that, but you’re right. “You’re insufferable and will never find a man to put up with that.” That was a blow, a harsh one at that. You’re pretty good at brushing things off, or firing back, but Trent went a little too far. He hit that deep down, hidden, insecurity.

You just really wanted to go back to sleep, the thought of Peter in your room no longer slightly excited you. You just wanted to be alone. “Jesus fucking Christ, Trent. Who the fuck says shit like that?” You shrug, “it’s obvious he was just giving me constructive criticism.” You try to joke, it doesn’t really work.

Peter looks down at you, it’s like you sunk down into the floor. Trent made you feel small. “It’s not funny, nothing about that was funny. That was fucked up, Simpson, the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s not an ounce of remorse on his face either, “sorry.” Peter wants to break his arm, instead he shoves him towards the door, nothing near gentle. “You’re a fucking dick.”

“Yeah, and you just wanna stick yours in her.” If he wouldn’t be at grounds of expulsion from the frat, Peter would’ve laid him the fuck out right then and there. “Shut the fuck up, Simpson. Just leave it alone.” He does, and throws the door open before parting you with a middle finger.

Peter pauses at the door, his eyes on your figure. It’s not like he cares about you or anything, Trent was a dick, an uncalled for amount of mean. “Don’t listen to him, he’s still reeling from that ‘can’t please a woman,’ comment.” You give a small smile, “thanks, Peter.”

Peter’s hand holds the door handle, a tight lipped grin. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he just has to tell you. Clearing his throat, “hey, freshman?” You perk up, he finds himself looking down at your mouth, eyes trailing towards your collarbone. Peter stops himself, it’s not about that right now.

“You’re not… you’re not totally insufferable.”

Something about it makes you explode, you can’t stop the cheek hurting grin. For a second, Peter matches it. “Are you saying I’ll find a man to put up with me?” Peter shrugs a shoulder, “the world is pretty big, freshman. There’s gotta be at least one.”

At least Peter won’t think you’ll die alone, he might even be at your side. “Thanks, Peter. For everything. And for thinking about it, it means a lot to me.” Peter closing the door on himself, he briefly pauses, “just because I said I’d think about it, doesn’t mean I’ll do it.” You nod, “I know.”

“Good. I just didn’t want you to get disappointed.” Your eyes brighten, “you care about disappointing me?”

It goes unanswered, instead, Peter takes a deep inhale. “I’ll see you around.” With that, you were alone with Spider-Man once more.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH, ESU DINING HALL.

The plastic chair next to Peter slides out, nickel legs scratch the tile underneath them.

“So, how are we feeling about a verdict?”

Peter doesn’t even flinch, he takes a bite of his sandwich. It was better before it was ruined by the presence of a demonic presence. Your hands drum on the table like you’re building yourself up for a yes, Peter thinks it’s funny you find him so easy.

“It’s been two days, freshman.” You huff dramatically, “not a freshman.”

“You act like one.”

This is the part where you question your attraction towards him, it’s proof to the saying ‘you can’t pick who you love.’ You lean closer, it’s not about semantics. Peter pulls back when you get too close, he must be scared of another hug.

“It’s a pretty easy answer, Peter. If you won’t do it, fine. But your president better figure out another way and quickly. We already have the PNM list, you make the choice sunday.”

It isn’t his problem but the more he knows about it, the more it becomes his. Peter can’t deny the curiosity, for a witch you have no real magic, beyond what you’ve casted on him.

Peter sighs, “alright, explain it to me. Sell it to me.” You sit straighter and fix your hair, clearing your throat you interlock your fingers on the table and begin to pitch. “I’m going on the ski trip this year, yay you.” You pout dramatically, “I needed money because my boyfriend isn’t a member of the frat and I wasn’t budgeted in.” Your words were a nod towards Ally, as if she couldn’t pay for it herself if she needed to.

Peter wants to bang his head against the table, there’s no fucking way he had to spend a week with you in a house. That’s constant communication. That’s hell.

“We bet every year on a member that makes it in, if we win, we get the money. I upped the stakes this year, and I know someone who signed up to rush.” You smile and poke at his arm, it’s solid. Peter looks down at your finger, you pull back and finish.

“That’s where you come in. You pick him.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest while he tilts his chair back, he’s mulling it over in his mind. He looks over your face while he pokes at his cheek with his tongue, if that’s his concentration face, you hope to make him think a lot more.

“What do I get out of it?” In Peter’s mind, it’s a bit unfair. He’s putting his reputation, spot in the frat and possibly academic probation on the line. And he gets nothing out of it. He doesn’t even want anything in return, or nothing he can think of at the moment at least. It still feels like he has to bargain for something, he’d regret it later.

You try to hide the shock, you didn’t think Peter was that kind of guy. You didn’t know him, but you didn’t take him for a sexual favors type of person. You wanted to hook up with him, sure. But when he felt like it was owed to him, it felt icky.

“Oh,” you look around the room, your voice lowers. The deal took a dirty turn. “What, um…” You look back at him before escaping eye contact, you don’t feel as bold. “What did you have in mind?”

You didn’t hide the shock well, Peter’s chair is back on four legs with a slam. “No, god no.” Okay, he wasn’t asking for sex, but god no? Peter worded it wrong, you took it as a personal offense. “Not…” He’s not even going to try and explain that one out, he ditches the part where he would try to say ‘not that I wouldn’t have sex with you, because I would, but…’

“I’m not asking for you to fuck me, I just meant I’m putting a lot on the line for a girl who assaulted me and a guy I barley like.” Assault is a harsh word, you’d fight him on it but the last part mattered more. You could give him the dirt on Trent, he said if anyone knew he would prefer it to be Peter.

“Wanna know what I have on Trent?” You have his attention, suddenly Peter looks very interested in what you have to say. He nibbles on his bottom lip for a second before nodding, for this part, you really lean in.

“He failed out. The school sent him a letter saying he was dismissed, he had a fourteen average.” Peter’s trying to connect the dots, for once, he truly had no idea what was going on in the frat house. “His dad donated eighty-six grand, anonymously, and the next day? Bam. Reenlisted and all roles reinstated, like nothing ever happened.” Peter’s not surprised one bit, it’s very on brand for the Simpson family, to pay their way out of trouble. At least he can say you didn’t leave him empty handed, it’s good ammo to have in the back of his pocket.

“I’ll consider your request more seriously.” It’s something, and you’ll celebrate it, you pull him into a hug, just for a quick second to squeal in his ear. You’re shrugged off in a second, you don’t care. “Thank you! See, I just knew I picked the good one!”

The good one?

You’re up and pushing the seat in, your bag hung over a shoulder. “I’ll see you friday?” In relation to the weekly party, he nods slowly, like you’re an idiot. “I do live there, yes.” You’re unfazed, you’ve come to realize he’s just a mildly grumpy person. It’s mostly cute.

“Will you let me know then, is that enough time?” Peter will do anything to have you leave, he wants five minutes of peace with his lunch before he has thermodynamics. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Your eyes sparkle, he has to look back at his plate. “Thank you, Peter. You’re the bestest.”

You really, truly are a witch. Because his sandwich tasted a whole lot sweeter when you walked away. It turned into sog the second you placed yourself at Ally and Paul’s table. Ally’s eyes flashing over to his, a grin when he was caught looking your way. He finished in record time, he needed to get out of the room, it was starting to get a little too warm for his comfort.

Ally started in the second you placed yourself across from her, eyes flashing to where you previously were. “Hanging out with Parker?” You shrug, if it helps getting her off your back, it helps. “He’s cute.” A squeal, she pulls at her boyfriend's arm. “Did you hear that? Matty, ask Parker if he’s into her.”

Matt crushes a coke can, a burp follows. “No.” Ally’s face scrunches up, “why not?” Matt’s swiping at his phone, you can’t tell what game he’s playing, the glare from the lights are too bad. “Cause it’s not my business, or yours.” Ally pulls away from him entirely, her arms crossed over her chest in a huff. Uh oh, she’s mad.

“Babe, can you get me a water? My wallet is in my backpack.” When she makes no move, he peeks over, “please? I can’t pause this level.” It’s a huff from his girlfriend, “what? You’re mad at me now? Look, I can’t even ask him if I wanted to, he’s leaving.” You look over your shoulder, Peter’s walking out with headphones stuffed in his ears, blind to the outside noise. How lucky.

“Yeah, good thing you don’t live together or anything, Matt.” It has his total attention, “no need for that hostility, honey. If you want me to ask, I’ll ask.” It’s the right move, and he played right into Ally’s hand. A cluster of kisses to his cheek, “thank you, Matty. Love you.” A smile’s back on his face, his reward was his request being honored.

The second Ally’s out of earshot you laugh at her boyfriend. “She plays you like a fool.”

Matt doesn’t care one bit. “Yeah, love makes you do that. You’ll find out, she-devil.”

You just hope you’re not the fool.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH, QUEENS, NEW YORK.

A six car pileup on the bridge caught Spider-Man’s attention, adrenalin courses his veins, any traces of that six egg omelet from Linda weighing him down vanishes. A screech of his name, he clocks it instantly. A woman, barely fourty. Spider-Man knows who it is, it’s the reporter that called him a Spider-Menace last week. Oh, how the mighty fall.

A head tilt at the woman, she’s panicking. Thrashing in her seat, crumpled between glass and leather. She’s begging him for help, he watches for a moment before speaking over the screams. “Calm down, I’m gonna help you. Just felt like being a menace.” Tears, she speed runs apologies, tells him it’s just a job and her son loves him.

“Alright, alright, come here.’ A grown woman, clinging to his hip is almost comedic. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Spider-Man doesn’t need to hear it a million times, it doesn’t mean much to him after the first one. “You’re alright, just wait over here for the fire department, okay?”

There’s countless other shouts, he’s already running back up the freeway. Spider-Man has no plans to stay in the city after this, no, instead Peter is going to take the long train back and listen to a podcast. But right now, Spider-Man has a job to do.

CATHEDRAL HALL.

Three copies of the same page, everyone calls a name.

Ally starts, “I call Conner Frise.”

Prince next, “Sam Mason.”

Ally pokes your shoulder, “c’mon, what’s your pick?”

You pretend to think about it, two pairs of eyes waiting expectantly. You grin, “Isaac Barns.” Confidence spills, “and I’m gonna win.”

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Peter’s clouded in infatuation. If he was animated, he’d have hearts and stars swirling around his head. Maybe it was the booze that had him feeling so loose, for once dropping the urge to push you away, and to pull you closer. Or maybe it was you. All he could smell was your perfume, it choked him in the right ways. Something he’d be smelling long after you were gone, something that made him want to breathe in against your neck.

You haven’t left him alone all night, circling back over and over until all he could think about was you, you, you.

He didn’t know a neck could be so pretty, how he’d kiss over your pulse and hope it would race as much as his. And he never really noticed hair, until it framed your face. Peter was never much on picking up sounds, but now he’s heard your laugh, the one he pulled from you, he’d never be able to unhear it.

And your voice. It whispered a song into his ears, it sent him leaning in, begging for more of the inflections. Peter didn’t care what you were talking about, as long as you were speaking to him, he’d listen. He wasn’t one to notice clothes, only when they fit just right or left little to the imagination. But on you, everything was your color.

Peter can’t think of anything else but your lips, they’re puffed while you spin words. Velvet tumbles produced, hints of a smile around your ‘S’s. It’s like you don’t notice him getting closer, as he steps forward, you step back. You weren’t trying to escape, it was subconscious, you were making more room for him, you don't realize he doesn't want space.

“It was really kind of sad, because the whole time you were rooting for the main character,” he’d asked you about a book he saw in your room. He doesn’t really care about it.

“Right,” one step closer.

“But then it all comes down at the end and you realize he really wasn’t a good guy,” Peter takes another step, your back brushes the brick wall. Little pricks dig into your shirt, it doesn’t stop you.

“And then?”

You smile, “this is where it gets good,” Peter leans his hand on the wall next to your head, you make no notice. “It is.” It’s more of a statement than a question, he’s relaying it to his own situation.

“You find out he set up his friend,” it was the twist, you’d been setting it up, but Peter has no reaction. You wonder if he was even listening to you, maybe it would’ve been better if he had read it himself.

“Are you listening to me? Cause I just kind of just spoiled the whole thing.”

Peter can’t stop himself, he leans in. His head hangs low, you raise your chin to look in his eyes. How have you still not picked up on his hints? “Why’d he set him up?” You hum, a sparkle forms in your eyes, he was listening.

“Well, if we're talking about my personal analysis, I think it’s cause-”

Your lips are pillowy, puffed under his mouth as they’re wrapped around your words. Your skin is warm under his hands, he can feel your hips burning his palms over your clothes. Peter tugs you closer while simultaneously pushing you further into the brick, when you hum into his kiss, he licks your bottom lip.

Open mouth kisses, your hands tug at the curls on the back of his neck, he’s not one for girls playing with his hair. But you, he wants you to touch wherever you want. He can’t fucking breathe, but he doesn’t care, you’re enough of a breath of fresh air. Peter feels more alive in this moment than he has in a long time.

You pull from him, puffs of air tumble. Peter’s desperate for more, you’re just so sweet. Wet marks dot from your jaw to your neck, your hands tug at the lapels of his flannel. “Peter,” it’s breathless, he wonders if it’s the kiss or him.

Hands tuck under your thighs, you gasp as you’re pulled up to equal height on the wall. Your legs loosely straddle his waist, nails digging into his shoulder when he hums over the middle of your throat between gentle bites and smoothing his tongue over the attack. “Fuck,” it’s a whimper, you don’t mean to, but fuck.

Maybe he shouldn’t have cornered you like this, but what’d you expect looking at him like that?

Peter retraces his steps, all you can think is that he tastes as sweet as he feels. It was everything you’d been pining for, and more. You were screaming in color, each grip of his hands felt like water paint, soaking deep and spreading.

Would it be selfish if you wished he felt the same?

“Parker, you out here?”

You squeak, your feet hit the ground. Peter’s head is spinning, his instinct to get as far away as possible. “Yeah,” it’s airy. He clears his throat, you look over his face, he’s avoiding eye contact. “Peter,” you feel a jolt when he backs away. A stab when he steps around the corner, you try to follow, he’s quicker.

You feel everything crumble when you realize he doesn’t want anyone to know he was with you.

“Where you at? We’re mixing everclear for the PNM’s.”

“Peter,” it’s on deaf ears. He doesn’t even look at you, how could he kiss you like that and then act like it was nothing? Why would he kiss you like that if it meant nothing?

“Right here,” you watch his back disappear. “Tequila if we’re evil, beer to make them puke.” His frat brother laughs, “you’re a sick man, Parker.”

It really, really doesn’t feel nice to be left behind in the cold. Especially when he just made you feel so warm. And it really doesn’t feel right when you want to cry, and it feels humiliating when you give him a grace period, just so you didn’t follow him from the back of the house. Just so no one would see you, just so no one would know what just happened.

Just so you could keep it to yourself.

You feel nothing when a shoulder hits yours, your fingers feel hot from the contrast of the breezy outdoors to the crowded, humid room of bodies. Ally’s arm hangs over your neck, you want to scream.

Peter’s eyes catch your frown, he should’ve done more. But if he doesn’t understand anything, how would his frat brothers? He feels bad, and a little more sober than he should be, a little too sober to have done what he just did. A line of shots, Peter adds an two extra, but he doesn’t add everclear, he chooses Fireball.

A pink, plastic shot glass slid in front of you. You look up, Peter’s waiting and watching, he raises his own. “Cheers, freshman.” It’s something, he’s waiting on your call, you’re so close and you can’t blow it now. You plaster on a smile and shake Ally’s arm off, you raise it up.

“Cheers, Parker.”

Peter must’ve had more than he thinks, because wow, what a gross feeling.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Peter does his best to be a good person, part of that is knowing when you fuck up. And what he did at his party on friday, was a fuck up. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about you, or your feelings, but he could admit that he pulled a shitty move. So shitty he dodged you the rest of the night and left you high and dry with his answer about your favor.

You didn’t even have a way to try and contact him, other than beating down his door but even you knew that would be a bad idea. Which leads him to now, standing on the front lawn, with thirty two potential pledges.

Peter’s turn to bid. A terrible idea. But all he could think about was getting back in your good graces and how much it fucking annoyed him to want that. Peter can feel Trent’s eyes burning into him, he takes a step forward, boldness in his chest.

“I bid Isaac Barns.”

It would either be the worst or best decision of his life and for whatever reason, you’re worth the gamble.

CATHEDRAL HALL

its.parker requested to follow you.

Your eyes widened, suddenly you’re very awake. Peter’s the one that kissed you, Peter’s the one that walked away, Peter’s the one that ignored you. Peter’s the one that followed you. Mixed messages, but it proved something. It wasn’t his main with ten pictures, it was his personal, his finsta, the one full of his personality.

You nibble on your bottom lip, it shouldn’t be that easy for him. Tapping on his account you hit the request button, just because you follow him doesn’t mean he gets to follow you. Mind spinning, you replay friday night again.

The tension eased and multiplied in one action. Peter had made you feel butterflies in the deepest pits of your stomach, when he kissed down your neck, when he wrapped your legs around his waist, when he went in for more, when he kissed you first.

Even thinking about it makes your cheeks hurt from a grin, you squeal out and kick your feet in your bed. Peter Parker kissed you, and it meant something. It had to, something tells you that Peter doesn’t jump without thinking.

Peter’s holding his breath while refreshing his page, still no notifications. He’s worried he blew it that night, not that it matters, it was just a kiss. Everyone kisses, if you really think about it, kisses don’t mean much. At least that’s what he tells himself.

spider.luvr66 requested to follow you.

If he acts now, he’d be a bit crazy. You hadn’t responded to him, but he doesn’t care. He’ll wait a couple minutes, then respond. It feels like his brain is melting, he’s not supposed to, and doesn’t feel like this. It’s against who he is now.

But, fuck, you make it difficult for him to not think about you. Peter swears you’re a witch.

Accept. spider.luvr66 is now following you.

Follow request accepted, you are now following its.parker.

You sit up, it was quick, you wonder if he was waiting for the notification. It doesn’t matter, you have the Peter Parker bible in your hands, and you were about to do some research.

You finally had access to his posts, and you were about to scroll through every single one. But the most recent one was the most important of all. A picture of Peter, crossed arms back to back with a slightly familiar face. The caption told you everything you needed to know about Peter.

‘big brother season.’

You had your bid and he posted the proof.

Whatever he did friday was forgiven. That wasn’t who he was, but this, putting himself on the line for you, this was his true character and whether he wanted you to notice that or not, you did.

And it was a bold act for a guy who pretended he didn’t kiss you breathless.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x you #frat!peter parker #frat!peter #uni #my writing

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