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spider-stark · 1 month

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INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.

Or, at least, none that mattered.

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.

And Peter never even asked why.

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”

And how true that must have been.

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!

“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.

“Did he?”

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.

“Well did he have anything useful?”

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.

“Mj happened.”

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.

You sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”

His brow snapped up. “What changed?”

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”

“I’m not pretending-”

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

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a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 24 days

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Come Home With Me (part 1)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Warnings: angst

a/n: was sorta crying while writing this, i love this sm..there’s going to be part 2! hope you enjoy it!

From the first moment one of your close friends told you she was getting married, you knew you'd have to mentally prepare for the fact that on her wedding day, your ex would be there.

It wasn't just any ex. It was Carlos Sainz. Your first true love. The boy you thought was the one. The boy with whom you were the happiest ever and for whom you thought there was no one else after him.

But things don't always work out the way we want them to. There is no greater pain than when two people who are made for each other meet at the wrong time.

Even though you both knew it would be difficult, you didn't want to give up on each other at first. When you met, you were 23 and he was 28. You were in the middle of finishing college in Madrid, which meant a lot of responsibilities, a lot of sacrifices, a lot of hard work and effort, a lot of suffering. And he just signed the contract with Ferrari and wanted to prove himself, show what he can do, show that he deserves to be where he is, he focused all his time and energy on his career.

You pushed together for two years, you tried somehow to find time for each other, but over time it became too difficult. He had no understanding of your needs, he devoted himself too much to work and, if you were the one to ask, in the end he gave up too easily on you, on the two of you.

Being with him was difficult at times, but being without him was countless times worse.

Even though you were very young when you first started dating, you wanted everything with him. You didn't see yourself with anyone else but him, nor did you want anyone else but him. And he, 5 years older than you, for him you were not his first love, but you were his greatest. You were his niña. That's how he used to call you. His niña bonita.

You were the one who ended things with him, but that didn't ease your pain at all. On the contrary, you expected him to fight for you, to say okay, we'll find a way to solve this, but he didn't. Therefore, you couldn't wait to finish college and return home to Monaco. You adored Madrid, you fell in love with that city as much as you did with Carlos, but after the breakup it was simply impossible to stay where every street, park, square, every corner where you were together reminded you immeasurably of him.

And so two years later, when your friend Isabella told you she was getting married and that Carlos would be at the wedding, you knew you weren't ready to see him. Two years later you had a new boyfriend Andrew, but deep down you knew you never got over Carlos.

Isabella was the one who introduced you to Carlos. The two of them have always been good friends, so it was logical that he would be invited, but you didn't think about it at all because you tried to suppress every thought about him. You knew you weren’t ready, but there wasn’t nothing you could do about it.

When that long-awaited wedding day came, as you all watched the bride walk towards the altar, you couldn't help but search for his face in the crowd of people in the church.

You shifted in place the whole time, your knees rocking back and forth. Even Andrew noticed something was going on with you.

“Are you alright, love?” He startled you when he asked. You almost forgot Andrew was standing right there behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” You gave him a fake reassuring smile just so that he doesn’t ask any more questions.

You searched and searched and suddenly your eyes stopped at the last row of benches. There he stood, in a dark blue suit, his hair brushed to the side and freshly cut, more beautiful than ever. When you saw him, you didn't know that his brown eyes had already been watching you ever since he entered the church.

Your eyes immediately filled with tears as your gaze met his. It was the perfect moment to pretend you were crying for Isabella walking down the aisle.

“You sure you’re alright?” Andrew whisper-asked again.

“I’m just emotional, everything’s okay.”

In the evening when you arrived at the hotel where the wedding party was, your idea of having a good time was long forgotten. The venue was beautiful and luxurious. Everyone was happy, dancing and enjoying the newlyweds' day, only you were extremely nervous because you could feel Carlos' eyes on you all evening.

You tried to ignore him, to relax with a few drinks, but it was simply impossible to pretend he wasn't there.

“I'm going to go out on the terrace for some fresh air, okay?” You turned to Andrew who was talking to a friend that was sitting next to him.

“Okay, love. Give me a kiss.” He said. You leaned down to peck his lips before taking a glass of champagne and heading out.

There were a few people on the terrace, but you found an empty corner for yourself. You leaned your elbows on the fence and took a deep breath, closing your eyes in front of the night lights of beautiful Monaco.

Feeling the cool breeze on your skin, you wished it would take away all the pressure and sadness you carried with you. You wished that it would clear up everything cloudy in your mind that has been preventing you from moving on for two years already.

After about 10 minutes, you pulled yourself together and wanted to go back inside. Just as you finished up the champagne from the glass, you turned to go inside, but suddenly your breath stopped when you saw none other than Carlos standing behind you with his hands in his pockets and watching you with tilted head.

Your heart started pounding like crazy and your body froze in front of him.

“Carlos..” You barely spoke in a whisper.

“Y/n” He said quietly taking a step closer to you making you take a step back until your back hit the fence.

You didn't know what to say, what to do, even if you wanted to run away, your feet were as if glued to the floor. You just stood there in front of him looking straight into his eyes.

“What are you doing out here alone?” He asks breaking the silence between you two.

“I just needed to get some fresh air, that’s all.” You weren’t lying.

“Did my presence make you nervous?”

“No, your presence here doesn’t have anything to do with me.” But now you were.

“How have you been?”

“Good, very good actually.” Another lie.

“You’re not gonna ask me how I’ve been?”

“That’s none of my business anymore, so no. I don’t care.” He nods his head at your untrue words looking down at the floor.

“So who is that boy you came with?”

“That’s Andrew. My boyfriend.” You say biting the inside of your cheek. You almost felt guilty for calling him your boyfriend. Andrew. You were sure he was gonna go look for you if you don’t come back soon. “I should go. He’s probably looking for me right now.” You say trying to walk by past him, but he stops you by pulling you back by your elbow.

“Don’t go yet.”

“Why not? We have nothing to talk about.” You pull your elbow out of his grip, but you don't leave.

“Because you never left my mind.” He says. “Or heart.” He adds.

“It’s a little too late for that. You should’ve thought about that before you let me go.”

“Y/n, you were the one who broke up with me. I never wanted to end things between us.”

“You didn’t want to end things between us yet you gave up on us without a fight, so easily Carlos..” You fought with yourself not to cry. You didn't want to look weak in front of him even though you wanted to let him know how much he hurt you.

“That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better or what?” You asked with a sneer. “I have a boyfriend now, I moved on Carlos. I’m happy.�� You say hoping you sound convincing at least to him if not to yourself.

“You’re lying, I know you are. I can feel it.” He takes another step closer until you can feel his breath on your skin as he looks down at you. He puts his hands on the fence on either side so that you are between them. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you know you’re always gonna be mi niña. Mi niña bonita.” Your heart aches and trembles at the same time at your forever favorite nickname. He puts his hand on your cheek as he leans very close to your face.

“Carlos, stop..” Your voice cracks as you lean your cheek into his hand.

“Come home with me, baby. Please.”

“And where is that Carlos? Where is my home?”

“Your home is in Madrid, with me.” His hands move from your face to your hands taking them into his and bringing them to his lips.

“You know, while Isabella was walking down the aisle, I couldn't help but imagine that it was you, and that I was there waiting for you at the altar.” Tears just flowed down your cheeks as you listened to him say everything you once wanted to hear.

“Remember how we used to fantasize about it. I still want all of that, y/n. Letting you go was the biggest mistake ever. I am so sorry baby.”

“Yet you never cared enough to look for me. Your words don’t match your actions, Carlos.” Once again you pull yourself out of his grip and step away further from him. Listening to him was causing you too much pain especially because you still wanted all of that as well, but your pride did not allow you to surrender to your emotions.

“Because I knew you were suffering and I didn’t want to be the reason of that! I’m sorry, y/n, I wish I could go back in time and make you stay.” He says flustered, waving his arms.

Right in that moment, Andrew’s voice interrupts you breaking you from your bubble in which you found yourself in completely forgetting where you are.

“Y/n?” You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and the smeared mascara under your eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry too, Carlos.” With that you leave him standing there on the terrace as you turn around and head towards Andrew.

part 2

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #f1 x female reader #f1 smut #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff

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senseichaos · 3 months

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IMAGINE:

Andrew secretively groping your ass whenever you're around. No matter where you are or what you're doing. You could be at a restaurant and he'll hike his hand up to cup your ass as you sit. He'll poke at it and pinch it when you are teasing.

Casual sadism would fit him well, I think. Randomly planting a small smack to your thigh just to see you squirm.

"sorry baby, you know I love to see my princess squirm,"

He didn't mean it, and you knew that.

You'd let him pinch you whenever he felt. Sometimes he even did it as a reprimand. You say something out of line at dinner with Ashley? He pinches your thigh so hard you can see the outline of his nail imprinted on your thigh for weeks.

He isn't all bite, though. He'll cuddle you softly and ruffle your hair. He'll tell you how much he loves you every day, even if you're fast asleep. He'll fuck you slow, He'll fuck you fast. And most of all he'll fuck you good.

"What a good girl, letting me open up that tight hole of your again and again,"

"What'd I do to deserve such a naughty princess?"

Sometimes you wonder who the Andrew was before you met him, how he was when he was 'Andy'.

He was mean, you could see it. He didn't get angry at you often, no. But one day after shopping you'd walked in on a scene: Andrew was holding Ashley by the neck as he yelled at her, telling her to stop being stupid, and that he'd kill her.

"Andrew?"

After that day Andrew did seem more distant, and you couldn't deny that.

But perhaps he'd come rolling back.

He would, right?

#proship #senseichaos #senseichaosdrabbles #antishippers dni #proship fanfiction #andrew graves #tcoaal fancic #tcoaal smut #tcoaal x reader #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves smut #andrew graves x reader #tcoaal angst #tcoaal fluff

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phantaloon · 10 months

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in honor of that post going around about andrew becoming a lawyer once he retires

i raise you, once neil motherfucking josten is allowed to retire from exy and his dues are paid: he becomes a math professor

just imagine that

him receiving a letter one day, when he's in his mid forties, from ichirou, saying that he's paid his debt, that he's free to do what he wants

and neil, bless his heart, instead of allowing himself some much needed and deserved rest, thinks, what else could i make a living out because god forbid he does nothing with his days

(cue andrew screaming into a pillow somewhere)

and like that he goes back to university, gets a degree in teaching maths however that's called, and suddenly they're professor in maths husband with lawyer husband

(honestly that's so hot of them)

like imagine, you're an accountant student, getting ready for your calculus class (or some other difficult physics or math class), your classmate turns to you

"hey did you hear mr. thompson retired? it was about time not gonna lie, but i heard from some girls that he was some messed up looking guy, these people have lost their minds hiring thugs now"

and you nod bc what else are you supposed to do

and you sit there waiting, until five minutes from the start of the class, he walks in in all his auburn scarred glory, your exy idol, the guy who you followed until he retired and dropped off the face in the earth, and you think what the fuck is neil josten doing here

and then

"hello everyone, my name is neil josten, im your new [advanced mathematics] professor, today we're just gonna check the syllabus"

iconic

#sorry my writing is obnoxious I'm aware of that #aftg #neil josten #andreil #trk #tkm #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king's men #nj

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year

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I shifted and entered the void state and I now live my dream life beyond what I could imagine (:

(I’m your bubble anon but I made this burner to post this bc I don’t want to start a blog on my main account, and I know how success stories go)

Hi Maya. Ur page has been super helpful, and after being in the shifting community for 5 years I shifted to my waiting room using your reprogram method and your lucid dreaming guide. It was a castle with a couple of butlers and domesticated animals of all sorts. I experimented and visited around 15 drs within a week (wr time) and I am so blessed.

I shifted to:

My waiting room

Bnha

A royalty dr where I am a princess

80’s dr

Stranger things

My dr based of my favourite wattadd story

An aot x this reality x avatar reality I created

Mcu universe where I am ironman’s daughter

I shifted as a cat (very fun)

A dr where I am a wealthy Range Rover new money mother

Old money nepo modeling dr

+ some personal ones

I have wanted this for so long so I have to thank you for always answering my dos, and making incredible posts. I am also a permeant shifter/respawner but I was so motivated by your philosophy of living every reality to the fullest, including this one so that’s what I did.

I came back a week ago and shifted back to a reality where I am a master shifter, and a master of the void state.

I entered the void and manifested this as well:

Everyone who reads this enters the void state easily

Having loving parent with a billion dollar net worth(they were poor, abusive, and homophobic)

A beautiful loving gf with supportive parents

Loving lesbian relationship and any homophobia we receive returns into a curse :) fuck you bigots

This Incel named Evan Stevens doesn’t exist. And I checked and he doesn’t but I guess This realities version is Andrew Tate. I will manifest he gets lung cancer or something. Fuck him

Natural head turning beauty, and being a solid 10/10 in every aspect

Having my dream personality, voice, hair, and intelligence

Revising my zodiac from cancer to a saggitarius

Having a popular youtube channel that Will blow up soon and be my career

And so so so much more. Lesson of the story is don’t give up. You can have everything and more so what’s the point of not trying. When it gets hard it can not get worse only better so remember this is the last time you will ever feel this shitty.

I love everything about this. This has to be one of my favorite success stories so thank you for the motivating content. You deserve it all and your success can be attributed to only yourself :)!

#void state #void success #reality shifting #shiftblr #law of assumption #lucid dreaming #dream life

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flamingpudding · 6 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 25 - "Do I look like I knew that?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Edit - adjusted the last bit a little after rereading this during my break, so that it makes grammatically more sense...

There was no warning. The moment the Waynes had stepped into the main hall of this Gala they had not been prepared for what had been about to happen. The only sign they had gotten was Damian tensing for a split second before the youngest of them booked it across the hall.

Tim and Bruce instantly attempted damage control, distracting all the high society people that had noticed it, while Dick and Jason followed their youngest. Cass had already escaped the gala to the roof before they had set their first foot into the main hall.

But again, nothing could have prepared them for what was happening.

Damian not only had seen something that caused him to sprint across the room no, their Demon Brat had gone a step further and just tackled the kid of someone else over and was now wrestling with the other boy! Holding one of the daggers they must have missed to the other boy's neck.

Surprisingly, the other kid held himself pretty well against Damian. Jason and Dick spent a good five minutes just staring when they had found their youngest, only starting to move again when Vlad Master demanded answers from his child. The apparent guardian of the kid that was currently attempting to get a choke hold on Damian before getting flipped over the shoulder, the boy flipped mid air, landing on his feet.

Before Damian could lung at the other boy again Dick grabbed him, his arm wounding around Damians chest as he held onto his youngest brother that sent quite an impressive death glare towards the other kid that just returned the glare, not with the same intensity but clearly peeved had having gotten attacked out of nowhere.

"Daniel! Explain this instant! You promised me, one gala without a ruckus!" Master was clearly not amused, hopefully Bruce had some sort of peace offering ready. Not that the man needed it, Dick thought, remembering some of the reports he had seen the man on.

The boy, Daniel, turned his glare towards his guardian. "It's not my fault this time! HE attacked me first!" Jason snorted, clearly having heard out of that statement alone that Masters apparently also had a feral kid that attacked someone at a gala before.

"This is no excuse. I know you are still grieving but you can not attack my business partner's children. Wasn't it enough that you broke Andrews Mayors nose last week?"

"He deserved it, he hit a girl in a perverted way."

"Justin Gracer?"

"Made fun of my late parents' profession."

"Daniel."

"Fruitloop."

Dick watched how Masters pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not happy with his charge. By now Damian seemed to have calmed down too from whatever idea he had gotten into his head. He was still glaring at the other kid but at least it appeared he wasn't going to attack anymore when he hissed at Dick to let go of him. He still kept a hand on his shoulder just in case.

"I am so sorry Mr. Master. It wasn't Daniel that started it. Damian, come on apologies." Dick cut in, causing the other two to pay attention and fully face them. That's when he noticed it. Daniel looked a whole lot like Damian. The older siblings shared a glance before Jason left to get the others, Tim and Bruce were still stuck doing damage control but it should only be a matter of time. What was the best way to bring it up to ask subtitle questions without appearing suspicious?

Dick was just about a question before Daniel apparently beat him to it. "Fruitloop, you did not attempt to clone me did you?"

"Little Badger, why would I do that? I already have guardianship over you."

Dick felt like he was missing something here but he also felt Daniam's shoulder tense below his hand. So that was why he had attacked. Damian thought another clone appeared. He really hoped what Masters and his Charge seid were just some ill timed joke. Otherwise the implications would be very worrisome.

"Mom and Dad didn't keep some other family relations secret did they?" Daniel then asked and Masters looked at them contemplatively. "Well Jack was estranged from the rest of his family while Maddie only had her sister Alicia and as far as I am aware you and Jasmine were their only children."

"Mr. Masters if you don't mind, would it be alright to do a DNA testing? You said Daniel's father was estranged from his family? It would be good to find out now if there is a relation." Dick ignored the glare Damian was sending him now, but this was his best excuse to get the others DNA to test if the other boy was really a clone or not. If he was then the League of Assassins must have done some serious brainwashing, and memory manipulation. This would also be the first clone of Damian that actually had a consciousness of his own.

"Doesn't explain why he attacked me…" he heard the other boy mutter as Master stared at them with narrowed eyes for a while before giving the boy by his side a contemplating look.

"Daniel has lost his family and friends in an incident recently. It would be good if we found any family he could connect with or help with his grief." The man then finally said after a moment before handing Dick a business card with a number to connect them before leading his boy away, leaving the gala for all they knew.

A week later and after a lot of discussion in their Family. The Waynes and Masters meet for the DNA testing. Though the moment Masters and his charge met Bruce both froze, Bruce in his Brucie act blinked innocently at them and asked if anything was wrong.

"Fruitloop…"

"Don't be ridiculous Daniel. I never would have attempted what you appear to be implying."

The boy pointed in at Bruce as he faced his guardian. "Look at him and tell me they don't look alike! He is like a more fit version of Dad! Like he hadn't eaten a single one of mom fudges in years! You have to have an explanation for that!"

"And how would I do that?"

"I don't know! You're the fruitloop one that had cloning equipment in the basement! Who did you buy it from? Some old fruitloop? The one you bought it from, did they try to - i don't know - clone a celebrity for themselves! The papers you had with it clearly stated that it had been used successfully once. It was a second hand bought with super old technology when I demanded you destroy the stuff!"

"Daniel, do I look like I knew that? I never looked in these papers you speak of! I just bought it as a backup plan, that I never needed a little badger! Besides the only one I would have ever attempted to clone with that time frame would have been your mother! I didn't even know your father before college! "

"Why would you buy something without looking into the papers and instruction manuals you get with it?!"

"There was no need for! Why did you even look into that when you had me destroy it anyway?!"

The Waynes looked back and forth between Masters and his charge. The more these two continued to argue the more a sinking feeling started to form in everyone present. It was Tim though that voiced everyone's thoughts as he leaned over to Bruce whispering only one question. "Are we sure there never has been an attempt of someone trying to clone you? It sounds like there had been one, years ago…"

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flordeamatista · 2 years

Text

𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚

pairing: soft dark!professor andy barber x reader

concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap , edging, fingering, fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited, power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)

a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.

the cute gif and moodboard made by me

line divider: @s-tarksintern

lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming

Masterlist

His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire

After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.

As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you.

It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.

Now, who do you break your rules for?

"Professor Barber..."

You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.

You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded. Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.

Your email glared back at you, taunting you :

Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.

The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.

Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.

You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.

Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.

A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart.

As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.

In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email."

Nervously, you swallowed.

How could you be so stupid to send him that email?

It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.

"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."

The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs.

You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”

You paused.

Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"

It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.

"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.

You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt.

"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.

Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel the wetness that was his.

"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."

You lost control from the the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman.

"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.

Was this an exam of desire?

"You are such a-"

Your insult cut short by a harsh slap.

The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire.

"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.

But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.

The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.

"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter.

Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."

Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send” The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.

You are sober but drunk with desire. His desire. His attention.

You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.

A man who just needed you.

With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.

"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.

In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.

His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body

"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"

You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him.

Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.

“Professor…”

"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"

“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat.

You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.

“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.

A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.

“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."

You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy.

Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.

"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the neck to stand straight.

“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.”

You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut

Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.

Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.

Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat.

You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.

Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.

Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your head, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair.

He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.

The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.

The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.

"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"

He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy.

His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.

“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end.

You knew his game of seduction.

You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.

“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.

The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.

“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut

The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.

“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”

“Please…” you begged.

"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"

Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.

He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.

Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.

It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop."

Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "

It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.".

Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.

"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.

A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?"

You couldn’t answer him. You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.

Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.

The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on.

You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.

To know what is his, he needs to see it.

In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.

Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.

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