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kiwi-bitchez · 4 years

Note

can i just say that your writing style is absolutely phenomenal and that i adore the work you’ve put out so far. i know whatever you write in the future is going to be incredible and i can’t wait to read it!! in terms of suggestions, i was wondering if you could write something with virgin peter being with a more experienced reader? maybe she finds his lack of experience cute and calms down his nerves by being straight forward? maybe a little praise kink discovery as well?? totally up to you!!

Holy shit yes! Honestly, I got a little carried away with this... sorry I took so long lol, hope this holds up to any expectations ;)

Straight Forward, Straight Backwards (a college!Peter Parker AU)

Warnings: SMUT, college!AU, sexy times, praise kink, Peter Parker is a cutie, also everyone is legal ages here obvi

Word count: 6.5k

Summary: You move into a new dorm building and a cute boy down the hall catches your eye. Little did you know he's a smarty pants who takes directions very well ;)

You should have done a better job packing. Your personal items lay strewn about in your new dorm room, clothes and other items all jumbled together in unorganized boxes. You typically didn’t leave things until the last minute, but moving across campus didn’t seem like a big deal until it was actually time to do it.

You flop back on your unmade bed and scroll through your phone, finding any excuse not to deal with the chaos of unpacking. Hopping up to your feet, you decide to wander down the hall to see if anyone’s doors were open. You hadn’t had much luck making friends in the last building you lived in and wanted to take the opportunity to try and meet some new people.

You walk down the hall searching for someone to introduce yourself to, poking your head into a handful of rooms and saying hello. You tell them your name and that you just moved in, having a quick few interactions with the people in the rooms next to yours. You venture a little further down the hall to a door propped open with a doorstop, faint music coming from inside.

You knock lightly and then poke your head in, not wanting to intrude on anyone. You see a curly-haired boy sitting at a desk concentrating on something. For a second you wondered if you should just let him be, but something told you to knock again and see if he noticed.

You knock a little louder this time, saying a quiet “Hello?” as you do so. He turns around abruptly, startled by your presence. He lurches back in his chair a little bit, rolling across the room and away from his desk.

“Hey,” you say again, “sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Nonono, it’s ok,” he says quickly and nervously.

“I just moved in down the hall,” you gesture towards your room, “I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m y/n.”

“Oh, hi,” he still seemed nervous, “I’m Peter.”

He got up out of his desk chair quickly and walked a few steps over to you. He jutted his hand out, offering it to you. You couldn’t help but smile a little as you shook it tentatively. Most of the people you had met didn’t even bother to leave their beds, let alone get up to shake your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter,” you say as you continue to shake his hand.

“Shit, sorry,” he pulls his hand away, realizing he had been shaking yours for much longer than necessary, “do you wanna come in? I have snacks.”

You chuckle a little before entering his small single dorm and comfortably plopping yourself onto a beanbag chair.

“Purple Doritos,” you gesture to the hoard of junk food he has piled on a shelf in the corner, “respect.”

“Totally underrated right?” he says with enthusiasm.

The two of you exchange the typical chit chat of college students, asking each other what your major is and how long you’ve been in school.

“Biomechanical engineering and robotics, but also maybe chemistry if I have the time to do that too,” he runs his hand through his floppy curls.

“Damn,” you look at him wide-eyed, “guess I’m coming to you for science help from now on, freakin genius over here.”

He laughs nervously and turns away, “I just think its all so interesting, and I love to build things.”

You can’t help but smile at the way he talks with his hands, spinning around aimlessly in his desk chair. He tells you about your school’s robotics lab, something you would never have had a reason to know about otherwise. He starts to tell you about the kinds of things he’s built, and the projects he was currently working on. Most of what he said went right over your head, but you liked how excited he was to tell you about it.

After shooting the shit for a while, you get up, “I guess I’ll head back to my room, didn’t mean to distract you from your work or anything,” you gesture to his desk, “it was really nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, if you um ever need a study buddy or anything like that you can usually find me right here,” he was a little jittery, and his voice was nervous. You give him a smile and tell him you will take him up on that offer.

You feel a blush creep up into your cheeks as you hurry down the hall back to your messy dorm. He was cute. And nice. And funny and smart. He was nothing like the guys you usually went for. He seemed awkward and shy, and you knew you’d have to be the one to make the first move. You were used to just letting others do the work when flirting, so this would be different.

A few days later you found yourself bored and alone in your dorm. You had spent the morning finishing up some school assignments, so you hadn’t had the chance to get any food. Only now were you realizing how hungry you were. Jumping up from your desk and throwing some clean clothes on you decide to venture out onto campus.

Peter’s dorm door is propped open once again, and something inside you tells you to pop your head in. You had seen him in passing since meeting him, and he would always give you a friendly wave and a smile.

“Hey,” you say as you knock quietly, “hope I’m not bothering you.”

He’s sat in his bed, big headphones on and furiously scribbling in a notebook. He only notices you once you enter the room, startling him.

“Oh, hey y/n, what’s uhh, what’s up,” he stumbles on his words as he takes off the headphones and hops off the bed.

“Just wanted to say hey and see if you wanted to come to the dining hall with me,” you help him gather his papers that had fallen on the floor.

“Oh, yeah, um, sure,” he looks up at you, big brown eyes meeting yours, “that would be nice, I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“Me either,” you hand him the stack you had gathered. The two of you decide on which dining hall is best and make your way across campus. He’s a fast walker, which you like, and an even faster talker. You can tell that you make him a little nervous, but you kind of like that too. It made it easier to hide how nervous he made you.

The two of you grab some food and find a table off in a corner to sit at. Despite his awkward nature, you found Peter to be incredibly sweet and a nice person to be around. He always seemed interested in what you were saying and would never cut you off or talk over you.

You start asking him more about what he does in the labs at school, liking the way his eyes light up and hands get restless when he talks about the projects he’s working on. He knows you aren’t a science buff like him, but he appreciates that you are interested in hearing about his projects.

You realize that you had finished your food long ago and you had been sitting at the table for quite a while, just going back and forth with Peter, telling stories and jokes and facts about your lives. He was an easy person to talk to, which was rare to come by.

“Maybe sometime you could sneak me in and show me what you’ve been working on,” you rest your head onto your palm.

“Oh, no sneaking necessary, I could bring you anytime,” he says casually, “you wanna go?” He gestures towards the door.

“Now?” you were a little surprised at the suggestion, but nodded in agreement and moved to clear your plate.

The two of you start walking across campus once again, you following his lead. You were excited to be spending so much time with him, growing to like him more and more as you got to know him better.

Your first years of college had been spent doing the typical partying and experimenting, as custom. You had your fair share of one night stands, good and bad. Sort and long term relationships, both good and bad.

As much as you were attracted to Peter, you truly just enjoyed spending time with him. He is hard to read, and you couldn’t quite tell if you had a shot with him. If not you were content with just being his friend, although you did think about jumping his bones most of the time.

He swipes his student ID in the door of a large grey building, letting the two of you in. You follow him down a series of halls and stairwells, he tells you about all the different labs as you go. You finally reach a large set of double doors that lead to the robotics lab.

It was a vast space with mounds and piles of mechanical equipment. Goofy drawings and photos were hung up on the walls by people’s workstations. You couldn’t even begin to conceive what all these machines are and what they do.

You wander around the space while Peter walks over to a desk and piles of boxes, telling you about the project he had been working on. You jumped up onto a large table, figuring it was alright to sit there when Peter didn’t comment on your position. He was talking in circles about the machine, using acronyms and names of things you had no idea about.

Walking over to where you were sat, he shows you a small mechanical spider, roughly the size of his hand.

“I’m trying to program him to follow instructions that I can give from a mobile device,” he starts to tell you. You think it's cute that he called the robot a “he.”

“Do you wanna see?” he asks, you were too busy staring at his face to realize he had asked you a question.

“Oh yeah, of course,” you snap out of your trance and turn your attention to the little spider on the table next to you.

As Peter controlled the robot with his phone, giving it basic instructions like to move or stop, you tried to keep your attention on the spider rather than the cute boy next to you. You felt the overwhelming desire to make a move, going back and forth in your head as to whether that is a good idea or not.

He takes a few steps towards you, really reaching for his robot, but in the process positioning himself comfortably standing between your legs. He reaches past you to grab his project. You lean forward a little so your shoulders touch.

“Oh shit, sorry y/n,” he backs up quickly, realizing he had been standing so close to you, “I didn’t mean to get all up in your space just then.”

“It’s ok,” you brush your hair behind your ear and try to give him a flirty look, “come here.”

Peter gulps, and sets the spider down behind him on a different table, tentatively stepping towards you. “Can I show you something?” you lean your shoulders into him again, moving to the edge of the table to move your body closer to his.

Peter nods, clearly nervous at your forwardness. You take his hand, looking into his eyes to see how he responds to the action. He was now stood between your legs again, head only a few inches above yours. You tilt your chin up, and bring your hand to the side of his face.

“Is this okay?” you ask in a whisper, lips parted and hovering over his.

He nods, giving you permission to follow through with your plan of action. You gently place your lips on his, finding them to be soft and inviting. He kissed you back, shakily bringing his hand to the back of your neck.

You could tell he was incredibly nervous. You were used to guys kissing you hard and fast, with little buildup, all tongue and grabbing. Which was alright after a few tequila shots at a frat party, but not your favorite. This kiss was nice. Slow and gentile and in the moment. You liked initiating it, and you liked that he was kissing you back, but not trying to eat you alive.

He pulls away, eyes wide and making contact with yours, “was that… was I…?” he starts a few statements but can’t seem to find his words.

“I like you Peter,” you take his hand again, “I think you’re really cool.”

“Thanks, I…um,” he was blushing furiously and was looking down at the floor, “I like you a lot too.”

“Would you maybe want to come with me to a party on west campus this weekend?” you ask, “You know, like, as my date?”

He breaks out into a big goofy smile, nodding and giving you hand a squeeze. The two of you go on to talk more about his spider, you tell him how awesome it is and how you can’t believe how smart he must be to make something like that. He never lets go of your hand, squeezing it tightly the whole walk back to your dorm building.

Saturday rolls around and you stand in your dorm, not knowing what to wear to this party. You settle on an outfit that is the perfect blend of cute and sexy, and head down the hall to meet Peter. You give his door a quick few knocks before he opens, eyes wide looking at you.

“You look really, really good y/n,” he compliments you and you bashfully tuck your head into the crook of your shoulder, “I mean it.”

The two of you relax in his dorm room until you get the text from a friend that its time to head to the party. You can tell that Peter is a little anxious, he doesn’t seem like the partying type, but you wanted an excuse to spend some time with him. You grab his hand reassuringly and walk together out of your building, meeting up with a group of friends.

They tried to play it cool, but your girls kept indiscreetly mouthing things like “holy shit he’s so hot!” and “where did you find him?” as you walked towards the party. You rolled your eyes and brushed them off, clinging to Peter’s arm.

The party was nothing special, just a typical college party. People were drinking, dancing, grinding, smoking, mostly drinking. You whip up some quick cocktails for you and Peter and join him with some of your friends in a more secluded area of the frat house. You made sure to stand close to Peter, tucking yourself closely into his arm. You wanted everyone to know you weren’t there alone, and you wanted Peter to feel like you were his for the night.

You weren’t quite done with your first drink when you noticed an off energy from Peter. You wanted to bring him to this party as your date, but never really considered if parties were his thing or not. He was talking and joking with you and your friends, occasionally taking a sip from his pink cocktail, but you could sense an underlying sense of discomfort.

“Hey,” you pulled him into a secluded corridor, “what’s up?” You kiss him quickly, wanting to show him that you were having a good time with him. He kisses you back and your heart flutters. You love the feeling of his tentative lips on yours, light and soft.

“Just at a party with the most beautiful girl here, that’s all,” he says jokingly, but kisses your cheek after to show that he means it.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, “I feel like you aren’t having a lot of fun.”

“Are you kidding? I love spending time with you,” he says earnestly, realizing what you meant, ‘“but parties aren’t exactly my scene if you haven’t noticed.”

“I’m noticing,” you joke, “and I think the two of us alone in one of our rooms would be much better.”

You lean up to kiss the side of his neck, leaning your head into his shoulder. Your wide eyes meet his, observing that he definitely agrees with you but is still very nervous. He nods at your suggestion, and the two of you abandon your cocktails on a coffee table and leave the house.

“I didn’t mean to imply anything, “you say sweetly, “I really just like spending time with you, no matter where it is.”

“That means a lot,” you see a smile creeping onto his face.

“Your room?” you suggest, “mines kind of a mess right now.”

“Sure,” he responds, “not that I mind mess though.”

The two of you make your way up the stairs and down the hall to Peter’s room. You instinctively kick off your shoes and set down your bag.

“Sorry if I ruined the night,” he apologizes nervously, “I just don’t really fit in with big crowds like that.”

You can tell that he feels genuinely sorry. “Peter,” you start, “are you kidding? I meant it when I said I like spending time with you no matter where. We could go to a party or the dining hall or the robotics lab, I don’t care, I just like being around you.”

“You mean that?” he looks at you apologetically again.

“Of course I do, I’ve really liked you ever since we first met,” you admit. You walk over to him, snaking a hand around his neck and bringing his face closer to yours, “I really mean it.”

You lean in and kiss him, with more passion and want than the kisses you had shared before. You latch your lips around his lower one, sucking a little. He is warm and slightly apprehensive. You kiss him deeper, trying to prove that you wanted to be with him. You let your tongue roll over his bottom lip, opening up the kiss.

A slight moan from the back of his throat catches your ear, and you keep kissing him deeper, knowing that he likes it. His hands have made their way to your hips, although you are the one guiding the kiss.

Before he realizes it, his back is up against his bed and the two of you are falling backwards onto it.

You land slightly on top of him but refuse to break the kiss. You love the feeling of his soft tongue against yours, lips parted and meeting halfway. Your hands tangle themselves into his brown curls, another soft moan leaving his mouth when you tug a little at his roots. You continue to suck on his bottom lip as your fingertips begin to graze the stripe of exposed skin between his pants and his pushed-up t-shirt. You can feel the muscles in his stomach tense up underneath your touch.

His heavy breathing comes to a harsh stop with a sharp intake as you run your hands flatly across his toned stomach.

“Are you okay?” you ask, concerned, as he seemed to seize up the moment you started touching him.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to- I just- Ugh I’m sorry if I’m bad at this. I just don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You bring a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, wrapping your hand in his reassuringly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to try and impress me or anything. I’m really enjoying myself so far, you’re a really good kisser, I promise.” You bring your lips back to his, cupping his face in the process.

He scooches back onto the bed, sitting up. “I don’t think you understand,” he starts, you can tell he’s on edge, “I’ve never really done this before. I’m… a virgin. I guess I just feel stupid, cuz I want this to be good for you, but I’m sort of clueless.”

“Okay,” you look him dead in the eyes, holding tightly onto his hand.

“Okay?” he asks, still feeling all over the place from telling you.

“Yeah, okay,” you try to play this as cool as possible, you want him to feel nothing but comfortable with you, “Peter, it’s fine, it's okay if you’ve never slept with someone.”

His eyes are wide and he’s still trying to read your reaction, “I promise I don’t care, and we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just like spending time with you, no expectations.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” you had moved up on the bed to sit next to him at this point, legs still tangled together, “I’m just an idiot, and I feel bad, like you probably don’t want to sleep with someone who’s bad and inexperienced, and I really just want to make you feel good but I don’t know how…” he was frantically rambling at this point, face still flushed red.

“Peter,” you say slowly, trying to get him to focus, “I’m gonna be straight with you right now: you’re the first guy I’ve met in a long time who isn’t an egotistical asshole. You’re really sweet, and that’s honestly so hard to come by, I feel lucky to have met you. I can tell you’re super nervous, and you shouldn’t be. I like you a lot, so if you want to spend the night with me that’s cool, and if you don’t then that’s cool too.”

“Really?” you answer his question with a soft kiss, resuming the contact that you had before, “You’ll tell me if I'm horrible though?” His anxieties were slipping through again.

“I could… ya know, show you,” you suggest, his face lights up, “and if you’re bad it will only be a reflection of my poor teaching skills. And if I’m going to be completely honest with you here, most guys who are super experienced are still trash at sex, so the fact that you’ve even expressed concern about making me feel good gives you a massive leg up on most, so don’t sweat it.”

“You’re so fucking cool,” he brings a hand back up to your cheek, “sorry if I’m acting like a neurotic mess, I just honestly didn’t ever imagine being in this position with someone as beautiful as you.”

You feel yourself blushing at his compliment, pressing your face into his large palm. He tentatively guides your face to his, meeting your lips with his. You were glad to have had this conversation with him, because he kissed you with much more confidence. He was now sure of himself.

You decide to take the lead and swing your opposite leg over his lap, straddling him. You let your hands run up and down his arms, exploring his strong biceps, his toned sides and flexed stomach. You feel his tongue peek into your mouth, and you invite him in with an open-mouthed kiss, rolling your wet tongue against his.

You let your hands settle back in his hair, remembering how he liked it before when you gave it a tug. You found your hips rolling slightly into his with each kiss, effectively pressing your center down onto his. You couldn’t help but notice how hard he was, straining against his pants.

“Peter,” you say breathily into his mouth, “can I touch you?”

“Fuck,” his hips buck up slightly into you at your question, “please y/n.”

You let your hand trail down his stomach, fiddling with the hem of his shirt for a second. You tug at it, signaling for him to take it off. Before you could even take in the sight of his beautifully sculpted body, you trailed your hands underneath the waist of his pants, palming him above his boxers.

You knew you should move slowly, take your time with him and let it build up, but your senses were going wild. You wanted nothing more than to feel his cock in your mouth, inside of you. It felt so perfect in your hand, and although you couldn’t see it, you knew it was nice.

“Peter,” you whisper again between breathy kisses, “your cock feels so good in my hand, so hard for me already.”

You feel him shudder underneath you as you move from his mouth down to the underside of his jaw, sucking on a spot while you continue to jerk him off.

You slowly take care of the button on his pants, sliding them down his legs. The moment of separation makes you realize his hands had been placed firmly on your hips. After his pants were kicked off his legs, you grind down onto him again, less fabric separating you this time.

“Do you want to touch me?” you ask seductively into his ear as you continue to roll yourself down onto his clothed, but incredibly hard member. He gives you an eager nod, eyes blown and glassy from all the stimulation he was receiving at once.

You guide his hand from its place on your hip down between your legs. Up your skirt and over the sopping center of your cotton panties, his hands find their way to your center. You slow your movements over him, allowing him to feel around and get a sense of your body. He groans at the immediate contact, noticing the unavoidable wet patch around your entrance.

“Do you feel that?” you ask before kissing down his neck again, “feel how wet I am?”

He continues to meet your movements by pressing his hips up into you. You notice how responsive he is when you talk dirty to him, especially little compliments and words of praise. You could have your fun with this, make him fall apart just by telling him how well he’s doing.

“You did that to me Peter, you make me so fucking wet.”

He lets out a groan into your neck at your words. You take the opportunity to slip your hands under the waistband of his boxers, looking into his eyes for a second for silent permission to continue. You nip at his earlobe and whisper words of praise to him as you fully grasp his cock for the first time. Jerking him off slowly, you grind yourself down onto his hand, letting his fingers press harder into your underwear.

You move your other hand down to meet his, showing him how to rub circles on your clit. Moaning into his skin, you pull aside your underwear, completely wrecked at this point. You grant him access to your slick folds, ready and waiting for him.

“Fuck, Peter,” you fuck yourself down onto his long fingers, letting him comfortably slip inside you, “you’re doing so good, making me feel so good.”

You arch your back a little, giving him a good view of your face as he twisted his fingers inside you. You sit straight up, perpendicular to him now. Your full weight pressed down onto his hand, his middle two fingers fluttering perfectly inside of you with little instruction. You expose your chest by removing your shirt before leaning your arms down onto his shoulders. You grind your clit against his palm as his fingers work inside of you.

“Oh my god, Peter,” you bite your lip, “fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

He gives you a look before stuttering, “I- um, can I…”

“What is it,” you try to ask him genuinely but cant help the moans that slip out, “what do you want?”

“I, uh, I wanna taste you.”

“Fuck.” Your head falls back at his request, hair falling slightly over your face, mouth gaping open.

“Is that okay? Is that a weird thing to ask?” his voice was tentative, which made you chuckle a little considering his fingers were still fucking deeply into you.

“Peter, that’s so fucking hot.” You rush down to capture his lips in yours, letting your tongues meet. You bite down slightly onto his lower lip, knowing you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. You move down flat on your back, slipping off your only remaining garment, your skirt.

He takes the cue and removes his boxers as well, now leaving you both completely naked. You try to steal a look at his hard cock, but he quickly moves down in between your legs. He looks at your dripping pussy with wide brown eyes, a mix between glowing and uncertainty.

You start to give him instructions, trying to fulfill your role as teacher, “You can just- mmmmhhh fuck,” he meets his warm tongue with your entrance, licking a wide stripe up the middle.

“Fuck, just like that,” he continues to lick and suck, “and you can add a- fuck, Peter.” He always seems to know what you’re going to tell him seconds before you say it. He dips his two, already wet, fingers back into you as he sucks on your clit.

You arch your back, grinding yourself into his tongue slightly. Through pants, you tell him how close you are, how well he’s doing. With a final flick of his tongue, you clench around his fingers tightly and scrunch your face up in pleasure. Your hips gyrate against him, thighs shaking, hands grasping at the sheets, at his hair, at anything.

You let out his name with a strangled moan, knowing he would love hearing his name come from your lips as you reached your high. “Peter, fuck, Peter,” over and over.

You pull away slightly, telling him he can stop. You flop back, panting, hand coming up to your forehead.

“Um, was that? Was I okay?”

You couldn’t believe that after you had been writhing and coming underneath him, he would still question himself like that. “Yes,” you were still a little out of breath, “that was really fucking good.”

You move down the bed to meet him, pulling him into a deep kiss. You relished in the feeling of his warm mouth, the taste of yourself on his lips. You wrap your legs around his torso, kissing him more fiercely.

You look up at him, hair a mess and face red, “I want to make you feel good now.”

“I mean, we don’t have to, like, you don’t have to…”

“Peter,” you wrap your legs around him a little tighter, “do you want to fuck me?”

He groans slightly and thrown his head back, hands coming down to grab your ass.

“Please,” he half moans as you attack his neck with your tongue, “I really want to.”

“You have condoms?”

“Mhm, just give me sec,” he doesn’t want to stop toughing you, but untangles your bodies to move over to the side table drawer. He stands next to the bed, fiddling with the unopened condom box.

You have a devious idea, and decide to position yourself at the edge of the bed, legs propped up behind you, ass in the air, hands and mouth perched and ready for him. He turns slightly, condom package in hand.

“Before you put that on,” you bat your eyelashes up at him, “I want to taste you.” You quote his words from earlier as you take the base of his cock in your hand, pumping it slowly.

“Can I?” he gives you permission before you slip the tip between your puffy lips. He is fully stood above you as you take him into your mouth, gagging a little on his length. You bob your head back and forth, giving him the perfect view of your ass.

You run your tongue firmly against the underside of his shaft, giving a harsh suck to the spot where the body met the head.

“Y/n,” your name was shaky in his mouth, “I need to fuck you right now.”

You like the directness in his tone and reach up mid-blow to take the condom from him. You flip around, so you are now simply seated on the edge of the bed, Peter still standing. You rip the foil with your teeth and take the rubber out.

Pumping his shaft a few times before rolling the condom on, you bite your lip and look up at him, “I’m so fucking excited to have you inside me, gonna make me feel so good.”

You were impatient, so you simply laid back on the bed where you were sat, letting your legs dangling off the side. You could tell he was too impatient to move either, as he ran his cock up and down the length of your entrance, waiting for your signal to push into you.

You motion for him to grab your legs by the thighs, allowing him to fuck into you deeply.

“Holy shit,” he grunts out as his length fills you for the first time. You arch your back and grind yourself against him, letting out little desperate moans mixed with his name.

“Fuck, Peter you can move now, you can fuck me.”

Although this was an unusual position for someone’s first time, both you and Peter were loving it. He got to see all of you as he pushed into you, your face, your tits bouncing with each thrust, the way your pussy opened up and took his cock so well. His grip on the back of your knees tightened as he fucked you harder, slightly shaking the bed.

“Oh my god, Peter,” you make eye contact as his hair flops against his forehead with each thrust, “touch me, please, fuck, I need you.”

His stamina was incredible, relentlessly fucking you as his hand seamlessly found your clit, rubbing the tight circles you had shown him how to do earlier. He loved having you splayed out before him, making you feel good, hearing you tell him how well he was fucking you, how you needed more, more, more.

He notices the familiar look on your face as he feels your walls tighten around his length. He moans out, loving the feeling of you squeezing around him. His thrusts become deeper and slower as he brings you to your second orgasm. He observed the way you squirmed when he would touch you one way, back fully arched when he would touch you another way.

“Fuck, I-” you try to communicate, “Peter, I want to come all over your cock, please don’t stop fucking me, oh my god.”

He can’t help but close his eyes as he feels you tighten around him for the last time, letting your wet orgasm drip all over his dick. You shook underneath him, legs vibrating under his grasp. Your mouth fell into a perfect Oh, and the sounds that were coming from your lips almost sent him over the edge.

He wanted to keep fucking you though, he never wanted to stop. He wanted to make you feel good over and over for the rest of forever. You were coming down from your orgasm, still letting moans and words of praise fall from your lips to him. You loved how you could feel his dick twitch a little when you told him how good he was doing.

Fully fucked out from your last orgasm, you wanted to move onto the bed for him. You move back, causing him to slip out of you. For a moment, he thought you were done, which would have been fine, he only wanted what you wanted. He would just have to go take care of himself somewhere else…

It wasn’t until you moved up onto the bed and propped yourself up on all fours, arching your back perfectly for him, leaning down onto your forearms.

“Peter,” you coo to him, “will you fuck me like this?”

He couldn’t find the words to answer, only to hop onto the bed over eagerly and position himself behind you.

“Just grab my hips and- fuck,” he filled you up perfectly, rucking your hips back onto him with his hands.

The feeling of his strong hands grasping your hips, and his dick perfectly hitting that spot inside you was almost enough to push you over the edge for the third time. You had no control over the noises that were leaving your mouth, and you suspected the same was true for him.

His hips were snapping directly into yours, and you could feel his cock swell a little inside of you. He didn’t have to tell you for you to know he was close, but regardless,

“Y/n,” you name barely made its way past the grunts and profanities, “I’m gonna, fuck, I’m-”

You felt him fuck deeper into you, hitting a new spot for a few thrusts that made you see stars. You couldn’t do anything but fuck yourself back onto him and scream his name. His orgasm washed over him, his sweaty chest quickly falling to meet your back. His hands grasped around you, something in between a hug and gripping for dear life.

He pulled out of you, and rolled over onto the pillow next to you.

“How was that?” you asked, less nervously than how he had asked you earlier, but curiously, “for your first time?”

“I-” he couldn’t even begin to come up with the words to tell you how fucking amazing it had been, he pulls you down for a long kiss, sweaty foreheads meeting. “We can do that again, right?”

You let out a laugh, “right now?” with raised eyebrows.

“Nonono, just like, in general?” he already knew your answer with the way you smiled at him.

“Peter, nobody has ever made me come like that, of fucking course we can do it again.”

You offer to take care of the condom, and head over to the bathroom to pee and clean up. Peter laid back with eyes closed, feeling unreal about what had just happened. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to use his spider strength to lift you up, fuck you against a wall, in the shower, on the floor, everywhere and in every position.

You returned with a hand towel for him, “Was I an okay teacher?”

“You tell me,” he joked.

You flop down on the bed next to him, letting your sticky body tangle with his in a new way.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he tells you, “but I think there are some new things I want to show you next time.”

You look at him with raised eyebrows, and let out a giggle as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your hair softly. You couldn’t help but feel a little flustered at the notion of fucking him again, of getting fucked by him again. But also, the notion of spending more time with him just in his bed, wearing one of his nerdy t-shirts and getting your hair stroked as you doze off to sleep.

#peter parker smut #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #spiderman smut #spiderman fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #peter parker #marvel smut #college!au #praise kink baby #oof #im soft #anon #request #smutty #smut #smut fanfiction

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hermannsthumb · 5 years

Note

If it hasn’t already been requested, 66 would be fab! I’m a greedy goblin for fluffy Newmann sickfics. ❤️

ME TOO!! luckily a lot of these prompts arent specifically christmas-based lol. this ficlet brought to you by how i spent the last week of my life

66: you’re sick and I feel bad because I’m pretty sure i gave it to you, so I bring you some of my great grandmother’s soup and watch movies with you

from winter prompts here

There’s a nasty bug going around the Shatterdome--flu strain, in Newt’s expert biologist opinion. For all Newt’s general lack of hygiene, he is very conscientious about germs (he fucking hates being sick, hates how gross it makes him feel, no thank you), and he usually manages to survive these kinds of things unscathed. Just stocks up with an arsenal of hand sanitizer and the Lysol that, usually, resides in Hermann’s bottom desk drawer for easy access in threatening Newt when he gets a little too loose with where he puts his specimens, and ignores everyone who’s got even a runny nose.

And then Hermann got sick.

Probably a calculated move on his part, the bastard--getting sick just to spite Newt. He spent two days wheezing and coughing and sneezing around the lab and shouting in a hoarse, nasally voice before Newt finally snapped, threw his protective gloves to the ground, and steered Hermann out and to his bunk by the shoulders. (“Get some fucking sleep,” he begged, tucking him into bed aggressively as Hermann coughed out protests. “What do you need? Tissues? You want tissues?”)

If Newt is overly concerned about illnesses, Hermann is overly blasé. Newt’s sure he would’ve wasted away at his chalkboard if he hadn’t intervened. And he needs Hermann, for strictly world-saving reasons, obviously, just can’t do it alone, which is why he dipped into his own sick days to take care of the guy. (There’s medical, obviously, but if you want something done right, do it yourself and all.) It was all basic stuff--bringing Hermann food, keeping him warm and comfy, forcing him to take ibuprofen and cough drops (fluffing up his pillows, reading aloud old research to him, tenderly stroking back his hair and humming as he’d fall into uneasy sleep...). Standard, normal behavior between lab partners.

So of fucking course Newt gets sick barely a week afterwards. That’s what he gets for being a decent human being.

He lies alone in agony in bed for the first day, eating shitty packaged junk food, downing more cold medicine than strictly healthy, and cursing Hermann’s name and entire existence; the second day, there’s a careful knock at his door, and Newt blows his nose and wheezes out “It’s unlocked.”

Hermann edges in awkwardly.

“Hello, Newton,” he says. He’s twisting his free hand in the hem of his sweater. “Can I...?”

He’s looking at the small empty bit of space on the edge of Newt’s bed, currently covered with used tissues and cough drop wrappers. Newt pushes everything into the trash can on the floor and nods. “Come on in,” he says. Hermann shuts the door carefully behind him and, to Newt’s surprise, eases himself down on the newly free spot. He’s holding a small tote bag that he sets at his feet along with his cane.

“Hello,” he says again.

“Already said that, bud,” Newt says, and sneezes into the crook of his elbow. Hermann winces.

“How are you feeling?” he says.

Newt stares at him.

“Right,” Hermann says.

“You need something?” Newt says, digging another cough drop out of the bag. It’s almost empty. Maybe he can guilt Hermann into getting him some more. “Come to yell at me for leaving samples out? Can you hear me sneezing down the hallway? My sincerest apologies, Dr. Gottlieb.”

“I’ve brought soup,” Hermann blurts out.

Newt fumbles the cough drop bag in surprise. “...Soup?”

Hermann pulls a small Tupperware container out of his tote bag and sets it down on Newt’s lap. It’s warm. “Soup,” he repeats, lamely. “And--” He sets a stack of DVDs (not even Blu-Ray, Hermann really is a vintage guy) down next to it. “Er. Some television shows. And movies.”

Newt’s still not really sure why Hermann’s here, but he starts poking through the stack anyway. “You have a lot of documentaries about NASA,” he says. “And Alan Turing. And--” He pulls out no less than three BBC miniseries of Jane Austen novels; the box for Pride and Prejudice (1995) looks particularly well-worn.

Hermann snatches the stack back. “Do I?” he says, pink spreading across his cheeks, and Newt is struck--out of nowhere--with the thought that Hermann is kinda cute.

Newt averts his eyes quickly. “Tragically,” he says, “my laptop doesn’t have a CD-ROM, so...”

“Ah,” Hermann says. He tips the DVDs back into the tote bag, and then clears his throat and taps at the lid of the Tupperware. “I made this,” he says. “Er. It’s an old recipe. My grandmother’s, I believe. I thought--” He colors more deeply. “My mother would make it for me when I was sick, as a child. I thought you might like it.”

“Holy shit,” Newt says, because Hermann made him soup, and top secret Gottlieb family recipe soup at that. Where did he get the ingredients? How badly did he have to harass the mess hall employees before they let him use the kitchen? (To say nothing of the mental image of Hermann Gottlieb as a child. Newt always just pictured him springing forth, fully-formed, with a bad haircut and poor-fitting slacks like some sort of unfashionable Athena, and he’s having a hard time picturing anything else. Hermann, but slightly shrunk down, maybe. Rolling his r’s as a toddler.) “Thanks, dude.”

Hermann nods stiffly. “It’s the least I can do for you,” he says. “Considering.”

“Considering?”

Hermann shifts, clearly uncomfortable. “It is my fault you’re ill, after all. Since you--well.”

Newt laughs, but it turns into a hacking cough that Hermann winces all the way through. “Ah, it’s cool, I’m not pissed or anything,” he says, voice hoarser than before. Yesterday, yes, Newt was pissed. Five minutes ago, Newt was pissed. Now, with a shy Hermann on his bed (his bed, wooee, under any other circumstances Newt would be making so many moves on him right now) offering up homemade soup and dorky documentaries, Newt can’t even muster up mild annoyance. “This is--really nice of you, Hermann. I mean it. Thank you.” He smiles. Hermann looks away quickly this time, down at where he’s folded his hands in his lap.

“Mm,” Hermann says, and picks at a hole in his slacks. Newt pokes his hip to get his attention, and scoots over a little. Hermann blinks at him. “Yes?”

“Get in here,” Newt says. “Get comfy, come on.”

“But you’re--”

“Yeah, I had exactly what you’ve already had,” Newt says. “You can’t get it again. I think. Don’t look at me like that, I’m not that kind of doctor.” Hermann quickly wipes the skeptical look off his face, and Newt--after shoving the Tupperware of soup temporarily back at Hermann--starts digging around in his blankets for his laptop. It’s in here somewhere. When Hermann doesn’t immediately cuddle up with him, Newt pokes his hip again. “Get comfy, Hermann. We can stream whatever you want. Or play cards.” And then, a little desperately, “Please. I’m bored as fuck here.”

Hermann casts a long look at the door before sighing in defeat, toeing off his Oxfords, pulling his legs up onto the mattress, and easing in next to Newt. Not quite entirely under the bedspread, but it’ll do. “Only for a short while,” he tells Newt, handing him the Tupperware once more. “I really must catch up on the work I missed.”

“Uh-huh,” Newt says, grinning. “Get the light, will you?”

Hermann’s not particularly warm, nor is he particularly soft (Newt’s taken one of Hermann’s elbow to the gut before, and he’s a sharp bastard), but Newt--somehow--feels twice as comfortable already. If Newt lets their sides press together, rests his hand on Hermann’s forearm, subtly hooks his ankle over Hermann’s, then he thinks he’s allowed. He’s sick. He’s in agony. (And Hermann doesn’t seem to mind; he way-less-subtly sneaks his arm around Newt and settles his head on his shoulder in retaliation, and Newt’s heart skips a pathetic little beat.)

He doesn’t bother waking Hermann when Hermann falls asleep twenty minutes into a Doctor Who episode, just shuts his laptop and joins him.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #theyre in love!#sickfic is always fun to write ill never get tired of writing it for these boyz #Anonymous

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mbergansmile · 6 years

Text

Worst of you// part 2

Other Parts: Part 1

playlist

Leaning over the bathroom sink, y/n tried to forget one thing . She had kissed her boss. This was not something she had dreamt or something she had imagined in her head. Nope it actually happened and there was nothing she could do except to forget. He was right,no one could know. He had his wife and She had this job. Y/n hands gripped tighter on the sink. It wasn’t even the kiss that was bothering her, it was what happens after the kiss. Usually whenever Y/n would hook up with someone it would mostly consist of making out and drunk conversations. Then she’d leave and never really see them again.Even if she did see them again it wouldn’t be awkward giving the time gap and they would just share a hello as they pass one another.

But this wasn’t a drunk hook up and she actually had to see him again this time. Her thoughts kept circulating in her head. Not knowing witch Instincts to follow. She obviously had never been in a situation like this before. It was completely new territory for her.

Y/n had let the water running in the faucet. She placed her palms under the running water and splashed some onto her face.

“ it’s gonna be fine” she mutters to herself “ Just walk in there like nothing happened “ she continued trying to giver herself the courage.

“ it’ll be fine” She looked away from the mirror and grabbed on of the towels and rubbed it on her face. She was going to be fine, she was going to get over this. It was going to be alright.

Y/n pulls up to the parking lot in her fathers old hand me down Jeep. That Jeep had been in the family for over 2 decades. She remembered riding in it for the first time ever. She was about 12 years old. Before than her father always kept the car in the garage. He would always look at her and say “ This car honey, this car is for special occasions only” It was his most precious possession. The car was a dusty military green with the exception of the roof that was black.

That day when her father took her riding in the car, she had just overheard a fight between her parents.

Her father had taken her out that day on a car ride to get her mind of things. But really it was for him. The whole town looked different that day. She looked at the trees and the street lights differently. The things that had looked so casual to her only days before were now suddenly a nostalgic memory. She had the same exact thoughts and feeling when she drove for the first time through her hometown.

“ you little- watch where you’re going” She snaps, she doesn’t even look up. When Y/n lifts her eyes she’s sees a male. He had pale skin and raven hair.His hair was styled in a prince charming like hairstyle en it honestly made him look younger. His eyes were empty, they looked as if he hadn’t said or seen the outside world for over a month. Dark circles were under his emerald green eyes.Making Y/n wonder what actually had happened to him the day before. He had spilled Doritos. Cheddar floured Doritos, fell out of the bag and onto her. Favourite white blouse. She wanted to scream at him and tell him not to eat junk food near a high state building. That building probably had pencils worth more than that guy. She couldn’t believe it. The crumps had a light sound as she stepped on the fallen Dorito-chips. Y/n closes the car door annoyed.

“ holy shi- I’m so sorry”

“ My names Fionn, I just thought you wanted you know ” He said. Was he seriously introducing himself in this monent. There weren’t sharp stains, in fact you couldn’t barley see them until he tried to get the stain off. Because he already had Dorito crumps in his finger tips it just ended up smudging the blouse more. Y7n pushed his file hands away from her blouse and started walking away.

“ I truly am sorry “ he continued. She was to far by now to hear anything, if he even did say anything. Her first priority was to get rid of the stain. Y/n looks at her clock and sees that she still has about 15 minuets till work starts. Plenty of time to get her shirt cleaned. Y/n walks over to Janice and leans over the desk eyes her “ you wouldn’t know if we have a washing machine of some sort” Janice looks at her as if she was the dumbest person in this world “ I dunno hot stuff, why don’t you ask the cleaning ladies ?” Janice was clearly not having a good day either or maybe she was just annoyed to be the information guide“ calm down Janice, I was just asking” Y/n replied with a condescending tone. Just as she had cleared her mind a little she remember that she actually had an extra shirt. It was tucked away in her bag, she remembered that she had put it there for emergency’s like this. She gave Janice a small ignorant smile before leaving for the bathroom. Could this morning be any worse?

Y/n runs into the bathroom, she checks the time on her wrist “ Shit 5 minuets”she mumbles to herself as she stripped the shirt off her Body. Picking up the new one and put on. It so simply fit her body, even if it was a somewhat oversized sweater.

Y/n tucked it into the jeans and walked out of the bathroom running over to her desk.

Getting to her desk just in time, she threw her stuff beside her chair and sat down. Tom called her into the office. His voice was sharp and stern. A little frightening-yes but she did as she was told.

“Late again I see” He said. A fake smile form on her lips

“ I know I’m sorry” The muscular man has wonder in his eyes, it can almost be portrayed as desire. He eyes the woman in front of him closely.Most likely wondering why she was wearing a white aliens are rad t-shirt. Curling his lips as he utters the words “Would you be so kind and close the door”y/n walked over and closed the huge enchanting door. They were Victoria like almost but still had the brown colour of the wood. She turns around graciously and sits down. Sitting face to face with Tom felt comfortable, weird and it wasn’t something she enjoyed. He wasn’t saying anything to her, he just looked at her closely. Y/n shifts in her chair, her breathing getting louder and louder in her head.

“I uh” he pauses and puts his hands together, intertwining his fingers and starts to fiddle his thumbs. There was something about Tom that always made Y/n wonder, was this all to much for her.? “I’m sure you know why I want to have a little chat?” She did. She knew exactly why he wanted to talk to her “ obviously the kiss was a mistake a mistake never to be repeated, understood” she nodded.Thomas Stanley Holland was mostly a self absorbed ass who didn’t care about anything other than himself and his company. Y/n knew that and she actually had been debating if she could put up with it. She’d heard awful Stories about him from Tabitha. It was clear to her that Tom Holland was not a good person. “ You may leave now” Y/n got up and started walking over to the big wooden doors.

“Oh and miss y/l/n make sure to see if my father is still set for our meeting later and also don’t let anyone in. I have a lot of work to get done and don’t want to be disturbed “ She nodded and walked out the door. Her finger runs through her hair as she exhales, she had been holding her breath the entire time trying nit to say or do anything stupid. She looks up at her surrounding trying to make sense

Y/n sat back down behind her desk and called Domenic “ Hello Mr Holland, yeah it’s Y/N Y/L/N Tom’s assistant. I was just calling to check in the dinner meeting was still on ?”

“Is Thomas being a little paranoid ?” His dark husky voice vibrated through her ears. He sounded like Tom, if Tom was a smoker of 30 years.

“No sir, it’s just my job to check up on meetings incase there’s been any changed of plans” She explained, lying of course. Tom was being paranoid or at least not never trustful of his father. She wondered how Tom and Dom could sound almost identical but have two different ways of speaking. Dom was well calm and collected to his tone, Tom was the opposite. You could tell by the way he spoke that he was insecure. He didn’t have everything under control and She��s pretty sure that is what Dom thinks as well.

“Tell my son that he doesn’t have to worry” he hung up the phone. Just as Y/n looks up from the cell phone she had just placed back into it’s operator a female walked past her. Y/n watched for a second before remember that she was not allowed to let anyone in “ Hey Miss you can’t go in there” the gorgeous female turns around and smiles “ Darling, I can go wherever I want whenever I want” she turned to doorknob and walks inside the office ‘Shit I’m getting fired’ y/n thought and got up. She ran after her into the office “ Sir I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listened, should I call security?” Tom was watching the golden haired beauty with hearts in his eyes “ no need she’s my wife” she just nodded and stood by the doorway. She remembered that Tabitha had mentioned something about a wife. Y/n turns around leaving the office and closing the door behind her.

I'm so sorry for another shitty ass chapter next one will hopefully be better and be up quicker lol. It’s just I'm currently writing a novel, like an actual young adult novel and I'm really excited and so that is why I haven’t updated. Again I am so sorry I hope you at least enjoyed this.

tags:

@peteryesparker

#tom holland #tom holland smut #spiderman homecoming #avengers infinity war

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built-from-nothing · 6 years

Text

Young and Menace Part 2

My Champion

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 3,733

Warnings: Canon violence, fluff, Jealous!Dean

A/N: Listened to Fall Out Boy’s Mania when I wrote this chapter, and it looks like it’s going to be a recurring theme lol. If you haven’t given this album a listen yet, I highly suggest you do so here. Enjoy, lovelies!

Young and Menace Masterlist

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” you interject eyes wide, before scarfing down the rest of your food, eager to leave the bunker.

You know you’ve only been here a few hours, but what were you supposed to do for the next few days? Snuggle with the boys, eat junk food, and watch movies all day? Not happening.

There’s always bigger fish to fry, and besides, Dean doesn’t seem the snuggling type. You snatch the pie from the table and start to leave to gather your things for the case.

“Easy there cupcake. Who said you could tag along?” Dean asks from his spot at the table.

“What are you gonna do, leave me here?” You snap sarcastically.

“Hell yeah. I don’t know the first thing about you, and I’m sure as hell not worrying about having to protect your ass. No, not happening. You stay.”

“Last time I checked, I was the one who finished the case before your cocky ass even had the chance to, but maybe me staying here is better after all.” For a fleeting moment, his face lifts in surprise at your easy compliance.

“That way I don’t have to bail your ass out when you inevitably get in trouble,” you smirk. Dean scowls and begins to protest when you move to stand behind him, patting his shoulder as you walk past.

“Wouldn’t want to crush that fragile masculinity of yours. Night boys,” you wave and leave the room, Dean’s eyes drilling holes in the back of your head.

“Fine,” Dean shouts after you. “We leave in the morning, but only ‘cause I don’t trust you here by yourself.” He leans back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Dude, you just got played,” Sam sniggers, and takes a sip of his beer.

“Shut it, Sammy,” Dean huffs.

You lay down on your bed a smug grin splayed across your lips. For all the hype, the famous Winchesters really aren’t all that tough. A little banter and they're yours for the taking.

They have lived up to the reputation for being kind and caring, especially Sammy. You are forever grateful that they offered you a place in their bunker. You crawl under the covers, and a wave of comfort washes over you pulling you into a deep slumber.

- - - ❊ - - - ❊ - - - ❊ - - - ❊ - - - ❊ - - - ❊ - - -

The next morning, you change into your “FBI” attire, pack an extra set of clothes, and make your way to the garage.

The boys are waiting in the Impala discussing what to do first for the case.

You get in the back, and drive down US 36, watching the world pass by out the window. Dean clears his throat, pulling you from your trance, and looks at you through the rearview mirror.

“You look awful nice,” he says.

You glance down at your feet, averting your eyes as your cheeks begin to flush, and open your mouth to thank him. “For someone who’s not leaving the car,” he states matter-of-factly.

Your face slackens, his incessant need to baby you getting old fast. “As much as I would have loved to stay behind and root through your underwear drawer like the teenager you think I am, I came to work a case. Now either let me help you, or I’ll go hunt it myself.”

“She has a point Dean,” Sam chimes in shrugging his shoulders.

Dean glowers at his brother, ticked he’s taking your side and shakes his head saying, “Ten minutes then you’re done.” You open your mouth to speak, but he interjects. “And no fighting. Something happens you haul ass out of there, got it?”

“Whatever Dean,” you sigh and turn to face the window, not in the mood to argue further knowing you’d fight when it was time. You stare at the passing scenery the rest of the ride. Dean’s gaze flickers to watch you through the mirror the entire way, your flippant disregard for his demands aggravating and, regrettably, a turn on.

You pull up outside the sheriff's station and proceed to exit the vehicle when Sam stops you. “Y/N, he’s only trying to protect you. The last time someone helped us, she...’’ he trails off lost in a sad memory, “Just promise me you’ll be careful.’’

“Always, but I can take care of myself,” you say firmly, and head to the station’s office. Dean talks with the Sheriff attempting to gain access to the case files but failing as the Sheriff demands more information on Dean’s branch of the FBI. Sam enters behind you and goes to help Dean.

You scan the small station brainstorming ideas on how to get intel and spot the deputy seated behind a desk shoved against the wall. The deputy, a scrawny, nervous-looking fellow fumbles with paperwork as the Sheriff shouts orders at him from across the room. You undo the top two buttons on your blouse and approach him.

“Hi there,’’ you coo, reaching your hand out, “Agent Stringer, FBI. Nice to meet you-?’’

“D-Dylan,’’ he stammers, “Dylan Farbee.’’ He returns the handshake, palms clammy and layered in sweat.

“Deputy Dylan Farbee,” you smile, biting your lip. “What a lovely name.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, blushing. “You know, I once knew a guy named Dylan. He was so brave, and always willing to help others.” You bat your lashes and connect your eyes. “You remind me a lot of him.”

“I-I-I do?”

“Mhm, cute too.” You sheepishly look down, pouting. “It’s a shame I’m not making progress on the missing persons cases though. Otherwise, I’d have a lot of free time here to you know,” you glance back up to him, your voice feeble, “go on dates and such.”

“Why I’ve been compiling some intel on the cases if you’d want to see it,” he blurts out, the corners of his lips upturned in a wide smile.

“That’s so thoughtful of you, thank you.” You pull up a chair and sit next to him moving so your knees touch. He gulps from the contact and hastily rummages through his desk drawers pulling out stacks of file folders and splays them across the desk.

“None of the victims have anything in common, except that their bodies were found a week or two after they went missing drained of blood. Most of the disappearances trace back to the abandoned brewery off of fifth and main.” He circles the location on the map and looks up grinning proudly.

“Wow. That’s so helpful,” you flirt and place your hand on his thigh. “Thank you, Dylan.’’

A throat clears in the background, making you retract your hand from his thigh as you turn to see who stands there.

“We’re leaving,” Dean spits. “Now.’’ You thank Dylan again for the information and pass in front of the brothers as you exit the station, Dean’s gaze assessing your figure. “Why don’t you button up there, Agent. We don’t want officers chasing you down. Bad for business,’’ Dean says with a rough voice.

“Is that jealousy I detect there Winchester?’’ You glance sideways at him. “You know if you want me to unbutton my shirt, all you have to do is ask.’’

He pauses in front of the driver’s door and places his hand on the roof of Baby. “Only in your dreams, sweetheart.’’

“More like my nightmares,’’ you scoff and hop in the back seat. “Did you get any info on what we’re up against?”

“No, the Sheriff was pretty adamant about ‘not collaborating with governmental morons,” Sam mocks causing you to laugh at the imitation.

“Guy’s a dick,” grunts Dean from behind the wheel.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You eye him skeptically, unsure who the dick in that situation truly was. “Well fortunately for you, I got lucky with the deputy,” you chuckle, wiggling your eyebrows at them through the mirror.

“You what?” Dean snaps as his eyes widen in shock, rage radiating off him. Sam glances back at you snickering at your play on words.

“I got lucky the deputy gave me information, seeing as how your heavenly charm didn’t get us very far with the Sheriff,” you shrug. Dean flexes his fingers against the wheel, jaw clenched so as not to retort something he would regret later.

Sensing his discomfort, you lean forward and place your arms around their shoulders, turning your head to look between the two.

“I believe we have a case of the bloodsuckers, boys. Which, seeing as the sun is now setting, means we can’t do anything until morning. I vote we get a motel, but,” you turn to Dean, your face inches from his and whisper, “I’m open to other ideas.”

You bite your lip seductively and linger hoping for a reaction from the oldest brother. He pulls into a parking spot outside a cheap motel room and turns to meet your gaze.

“Lucky for you,” he says mimicking your tone from earlier, his breath fanning your face, “I’m on top of things, sweetheart.” A playful smirk spreads across his face as he exits the vehicle to check in at the front desk. You sharply exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The effect this man had on you was irritating. How he could turn from arguing to teasing to straight up flirting in a blink of the eye mystified you.

You shake your head pulling you from your thoughts, and help Sam grab your bags from the trunk. Dean returns with a set of keys, and you enter the room a few doors down from the Impala. You fling the bags in the corner and flop down on a bed, ready to sleep for all eternity. You hesitantly open an eye at the feeling of someone standing over you. Dean stands there with his hands against his hips, the infamous bitch face glaring down at you. “Nuh uh. Scoot.”

“Why?” you groan, burying your head further into the bed.

“I’m not sleeping on the couch, and I sure as hell ain’t sleeping with Sammy.” He points to where Sam lays sprawled out on the opposing bed with his computer on his lap. “Now scoot,” he demands, voice rough. You mumble obscenities under your breath and roll over to one side of the bed. Smirking, Dean chucks his bag on the bed and walks away to sit at the small table.

“What the hell Dean? Couldn’t have put your bag anywhere else in the room? You just had to claim your spot next to me and fucking walk away,” you hiss, more irritation lacing your words than intended.

“That eager to get me into bed, princess?” he grins. “Cause all you have to do is ask.” You shoot him an icy stare determined to make him take back his statement, regardless of how true it may have been.

Dean begins to make goofy faces at you, slowly breaking your facade as he puffs his cheeks and purses his lips. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as your gaze softens ever so slightly. His duck face proves too much for your anger, and you run your hand down your face chuckling.

“Stubborn asshat.” You close your eyes and attempt to stifle the butterflies in your stomach, but only see his stupid duck face behind your lids. Damn him and his Winchester ways.

“You two done?” Sam asks, snapping you from your thoughts. “Or do I need to get another room?” You turn to face him, your cheeks reddening.

“Sorry Sam,” you smile sheepishly as you cast glances towards Dean, his lips set in a tight line at his brother for calling you two out. “And on that note, I’m going to get a shower.” You stand up and root through your bag for a change of clothes. After several minutes of searching, you still can not find any pajamas. ‘Fucking fantastic’ you think.

“What’s fantastic?” asks Sam. Taken aback that he either read your mind, or you didn’t just think that last statement, you hesitantly reply,

“I, uh, forgot clothes. Could I borrow a shirt?”

“Sure,” he reaches into a duffel bag and throws you a red flannel. “Here.” You thank him and go to take a shower.

You step out onto the towel bath mat, and button the middle three buttons on the flannel. Being a few sizes too big, the shirt just covers your butt and hangs off your shoulder. You straighten it and walk to your shared bed. Dean lays on his side with an arm propped behind his head as he flicks through channels on the television. He turns to say something, but immediately loses all train of thought upon seeing you.

His heart skips and his jaw opens slightly as he examines every inch of you. Your hair, still wet from the shower, hangs down to the opening of the flannel and clings to your skin, teasing him as it curls underneath the fabric covering your breasts. The hem of the shirt floats along the top of your hips, begging him to run a hand over your bare thighs.

You crawl onto the bed and lie down causing the flannel to ride up, exposing the bottom lace of your underwear. Dean swallows and continues to stare, his eyes focused on the small section of lace.

“Dean,” you whisper. He hums in acknowledgment. “You’re staring.” He quickly snaps his attention back to the tv and clears his throat, mumbling something about ‘goddamn pants and my shirt’. You chew on your lip to keep from giggling. “So where’s Sam?” you ask after a few moments of awkward silence.

“Beer run,” he returns firmly.

“Oh, I wanted to tell him that this shirt is so soft.” You say rubbing your arms, feeling the plush flannel. Dean shifts and takes a deep breath.

“That’s because it’s not his,” he breathes, stopping himself from almost instinctively looking at you. The butterflies return full force, and your face reddens at the thought of your naked body wrapped in Dean’s flannel.

“Oh,” you mutter voice weak.

“I’m gonna-” he points towards the bathroom and briskly stands up, shutting the door with a clunk. You fling your head back against the pillow and let out a heavy breath. So you’ve developed feelings for Dean? Not a big deal. Only a few more days, then you’re back to hunting alone. Without Dean or Sam. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach, the thought of leaving the boys behind heartbreaking.

You turn your head towards the nightstand, examining your surroundings to escape your thoughts, and spot a small amulet: a small, brass horned head strung on a black cord. You turn the pendant over in your fingers, feeling all the raised detail.

The bathroom door swings open, and Dean steps out. You hastily grip the amulet and shove your hand behind your back. “What are you doing?” he asks suspicious and approaches the bed.

“N-nothing,” you stammer, shifting your back away and avert your eyes from him.

“What’s behind your back?” he nods towards you.

“It’s nothing,” you shrug, trying to play it cool.

“Uh huh. Hand it over,” he says reaching a hand towards you. You look up and find Dean shirtless, hovering over the bed. Your heart quickens at the sight of his bare chest, droplets of water running down his chest, past his abdomen to the waistband of his pants where they gently slip underneath to continue down to… You slowly bring your eyes to his, your breathing labored.

“No,” you whisper, voice shaky.

“No?” he questions, maintaining eye contact for a few moments as a wide grin spreads across his lips. “Well in that case.” He leaps across the bed and straddles you reaching for the amulet, tickling you in the process. A squeak escapes your lips, and you push back into the bed squirming helplessly as he attacks your sides with swift tickles.

You try to wriggle away, which only allows him to pin your arms above your head. Full-bodied laughs rise from your center, the muscles in your diaphragm cramping from all the laughing as you try to catch your breath.

“Gotcha,” he smiles triumphantly, small chuckles fanning your nose. His proximity causes your mind to blank, the amulet long forgotten as the warmth left from his shower radiates off his chest through the thin fabric of your flannel. Your hearts racing, he loosens his grip on your wrists and nudges your nose with his.

You gaze at his features, his face inches from yours, and examine the freckles that dance across his nose and cheekbones. You instinctively move your hand to his face, tracing the freckles with your fingertips. He inhales sharply at your touch, and you bring your hand down to cup his cheek. He closes his eyes, savoring the connection, before nuzzling his face into your palm.

“D,” you breath, eyes flicking down to his full lips. His heart soars at the sound of his new nickname, and he opens his eyes to meet yours. You bring his forehead to yours and rub small circles against his cheek with your thumb. He lets out a shaky breath and runs his hand down your pinned arm to rest on your waist.

Unable to contain your lust any longer, you slowly put your lips to his, pressing warm and tender kisses against his lips. His body stiffens and hesitates before relaxing into you, returning the kiss soft and slow. You shift your hand from his cheek and lace it around his neck, entangling your fingers in his short hair. You place the other hand on his bare chest, feeling the lines of his softly toned physique, the kiss deepening as the pace intensifies.

He runs his tongue along your bottom lip and, after granting access, delves inside exploring every corner of your mouth, the taste of his lips intoxicating. Your tongues battle for dominance as you run your fingers down his spine, and push your hips to meet his.

You bite and tug on his lower lip as he pulls away, oxygen flooding your lungs, and exhale sharply at the touch of your skin against his. He leans down to place kisses along your neck and behind your ear. Finding your sensitive spot, you whimper in anticipation.

“You like that, baby?” he smirks against your skin, voice low and husky. You obey and cry out for more. Dean continues to lick and suck at the tender spot, sending jolts of electricity through your body. You shift your legs underneath him as the tension builds in your abdomen, making a deep grunt leave his lips.

He trails kisses down your chest leaving playful bites along the way. He stops where your shirt buttons between your breasts and looks up, eyes full of lust. You return the gaze, silent permission passing between you as he undoes the button. He swallows hard and licks his lips, staring at your beautiful figure. He caresses up your side to your breast and runs a rough finger across the hard bud.

You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as your lower body rumbles in excitement. You entwine your hands in his hair and moan loudly just as the door opens.

You both jump back, embarrassment etched on your features, and you hastily fumble to button the flannel. Dean puffs his chest blocking you and turns to face the door, showing you the fresh claw marks that run down his back. You did that? Damn. Imagine the damage you could have done if he had continued, kissing down your belly and pelvis to land upon your…

Sam enters the room with a case of beer and food from the local diner. You try to hide how red you are, but Dean still being shirtless doesn’t help.

“So I bought a few-” Sam sets the food done and looks at your position. “What’s going on?” he asks glancing back and forth between the two of you. Dean clears his throat and makes his way over to Sam.

“Waiting for your slow ass to get the beer.” He snaps, voice still a little deeper than usual, and grabs a beer.

“Shirtless?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I do shower naked, Sammy.” Dean takes some food back to the bed and puts a shirt on. Not soon enough, however, for Sam sees the state of his brother’s back and guffaws, earning a bitch face from Dean.

“You apparently didn’t shower alone,” he mumbles and heads to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway before deciding against it. “Nope. That’s forever ruined.”

Dean plops down on the bed next to you and throws a sandwich at you. “What, no beer?” you retort. He huffs a sigh and heaves himself from the bed to get you a beverage. “Thank you,” you say with a patronizing tone. You fiddle with the wrapper on your sandwich waiting for him to have a full mouth. You lean over and lower your voice for only him to hear, “So, I hear you shower naked.”

He nearly spits out his food and looks at you shocked. You laugh wholeheartedly, taking pride in the fact you caught him off guard, and take a bite of the sub. Right before you can swallow, Dean reaches over and squeezes your thigh.

You squeak, flattening your lips to not lose the food, and playfully glare at him. He winks and returns to eating. You can’t help but sneak glances of him out of the corner of your eye as you sit there together. The normality of the situation places you in utter bliss, wishing that every hunt could be like this one.

After you all finish eating, you prepare for sleep and lie with your back towards Dean’s. Sam turns off the lights and says goodnight before crawling onto his bed.

You stare at the gaudy wallpaper replaying the events from earlier over and over in your head. The way Dean’s calloused hands felt rough and smooth against your skin. The way his lip’s connected with yours.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice when Dean sleepily wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer, snuggling into you. The way his head fits perfectly in the crook of your neck. The way your legs tangle together in chaotic harmony. You slowly drift to sleep, the memory of tonight forever ingrained in your mind.

Read Part 3 here

Like it? Let me know!

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8bityeol · 7 years

Text

Office Cohorts

fluff // There’s trouble bubbling up at work

With a screech, the chair in front of you was pulled up. You kept your face pointed down at your laptop, but your eyes didn’t dare take themselves away from the intruder who’d now sat down and placed his files and cup down. You waited for him to say something, better yet, stand up and sit at the other empty tables.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked.

You inwardly scoffed. What was the point in asking when he’d already become well acquainted with the seat?

“Sure.” You finally said.

A few seconds passed in which you typed on your laptop whilst his eyes flickered from his files then to his phone and back to your face in an almost rabid manner, like an over-excited puppy of sorts. Refusing to engage with him, you kept your eyes glued down to the screen.

He cleared his throat and you involuntarily looked up, then chastised yourself when you saw his eyes practically gleam, this was his opening for a conversation and you’d stupidly given it to him.

“Which department are you in?” He asked.

“Marketing.”

“Cool, so is it all like designing stuff for the campaigns?” He asked. “I’m from the IT department, well not really since im an intern but basically right.”

You should’ve guessed he was an intern, that childish curiosity and excitement screamed fresh out of university. Plus he looked the part as well.

“Something like that.”

“Cool.”

You hummed in response and he, likewise. The atmosphere quickly shifted to a silence which could’ve been comfortable one if it wasn’t for the person sat in front of you. Still, you concentrated on your work and hurried on considering your break was nearing its end. Yes, you were working on your break but deadlines were deadlines.

Looking at the time on your phone, you closed your laptop and cleared your throat. He looked up expectantly.

“Well, I’ll be going now. It was nice talking,” you said, standing up.

“Likewise, I hope we’ll see each other around.” He said, smiling wide.

You gave him a fleeting smile and stalked off with your laptop and empty cup in hand. Too bad you weren’t going to see him, and if the universe was truly on your side, you’d be granted the power of being able to avoid him. If there was one thing you couldn’t stand it was the preppy interns, but thank god they cooled down after a few months at the job.

****

“And for winter 2017, we’ve projected a 21% increase in sales when this ad for this collection does run,” You said, pressing the clicker for the next slide, but the screen was frozen. You pressed the clicker a few more times but still, the screen was unmoving.

You silently cursed as you leant down to fiddle with the button on your laptop. You could feel the … eyes of the board members digging into you as you fretted over your slide. It was supposed to room smooth for heaven’s sake, you’d been preparing for this project for a good month and now, things were playing up.

“Uh, well, seems as though my computer does not want to comply,” you said, plastering a board smile on your face. “We’ll continue with the presentation.”

Foot daring to shake, and stomach dwelling in the deep depths of your body, you continued with the presentation, reciting the tidbit you’d memories from spending hours on this project. The presentation seemed to go slower than the hour it had been said to end.

The moment each board men shuffled out of the meeting room, you breathed a sigh of relief and you could’ve keeled over if it wasn’t for the open seat. You cursed your laptop and all technology as you gulped down the untouched bottle of water.

Having calmed down the last waves of nerves, you stalked out of the meeting and to your office. The moment you sat down, you opened your laptop and still, the screen was frozen. You moved the mouse around, nothing. While the presentation has gone, you still needed your laptop so you exited your office and beelined towards the most technological friend you had at the office.

“Yixing,” your voice was sickly sweet as you leant over his cubicle.

Noticing you, he took his earphones out and sighed. “What?”

“I need your help,” you said.

“I’m busy,” he said, with a ghost of a smirk. “Really busy in fact. Almost too busy.”

You peered at his screen, Spotify was open and in the task bar was Photoshop, clearly deserted. “Busy? Sure. That poster is being completed huh?”

“If I help you will you go?” he asked.

You nodded, “Of course. I just need you to do your magic on my laptop. This junk decided to fail me on presentation.”

His eyebrows rose up, “During presentation or before?”

Reliving the event, you sighed. “During. It just froze on me and I looked like a headless chicken who doesn’t know how to operate a laptop.”

Grimacing, he took the laptop from your hands and opened it. “Tell me you managed to get through it?”

“I did,” you said. “I wanted to kill myself, but I did it.”

He hummed in response as his fingers tapped the keys, “Good to know but… I don’t think I can save your laptop. It’s probably a problem with the driver and I don’t want to be responsible when your things get wiped out.”

“You’re kidding right?” you said. “I need to do work when I get home.”

“Go to IT.”

“IT?”

He nodded. “Yes IT. That small department where they fix computers.”

And so, you found yourself, broken laptop in hand taking the lift down to the second floor. You walked through the hallway leading to the IT office, weaving past faces you’d seen for the first time in your five years of working here.

Your entrance caused a few heads to look up, you’d guess it was because hardly anyone comes here, IT always went to the people. The room was filled with computers, some stacked in a far corner and other technological things of a similar nature.

There was a larger desk in near the window, headed by a man with a worn face and equally worn out hair. He looked like the manager.

“Hi, sorry to be a bother, but I need your help with my laptop,” you said. “It froze on me and someone said it might be a problem with one of the drivers.”

He looked up from his screen, “Uh, I can’t right now, little lady.”

You grimaced at the nickname he’d given you. “But I really need this fixed, It’s really important.”

“I get it, but I can’t just help you. Listen, how about I get one the other guys to do it?” he said. “Uh, Baekhyun!”

“Yes sir?”

You turned around just at the moment, you saw him spring up from his chair. You immediately recognised him, it as the guy from the cafe, the one you’d met last month and wished you’d never see again. And judging from his smile, he’d be probably wishing for the opposite.

“Come ere’,” The manager said. “I need you to fix this lady’s laptop,” he looked to you, “And you just tell him what the problem is. He’s a smart one so he’ll fix it in no time.”

“Well, alright,” you said.

“Wanna come round to my desk?” Baekhyun asked.

You nodded and followed him towards his desk. You inwardly groaned at the haphazard nature of his desk. Trinkets were littered across the white desk, little toys and stickers. Noticing your eyes, he shifted a few objects to the side as he sat down.

“Laptop?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry,” you handed him the laptop.

“No problem,” he said with a small chuckle. “So what’s the problem with it?”

“It froze up and I can’t get it to work. My friend said it might be the driver or something, but I have no clue what it is.”

“Hm, I see. If it’s that simple I can probably get it done by the end of the day,” he said.

You breathed a sigh of relief, “Good, I need it done by today.”

He nodded, “Before you go, I need your email address.”

You couldn’t keep the surprise and maybe anguish off your face, God could he be more forward. “My email?”

He looked confused, “yes…your email. The company one. I’m gonna need to email you when I’m done or if there’s an issue.”

“Oh, I see,” You picked a pen and scribbled your work email onto a blank piece of paper. You willed the heat from your face to die down, it was embarrassing enough getting flustered by an intern. “Yeah, just drop me one when you’re done.”

With a parting exchange of smiles, you leave the IT office and go back to your own department. As you sit at your own office and desk, your mind wandered back towards Baekhyun the intern. If all was well, you’d just grab your laptop and be on your merry way but something inside you to that it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him. As annoying as that was. To keep yourself from thinking about that poor sod, you concentrated on the stacks of reports you had to go over.

By the time you’d worked through half of them, it was an hour till you clocked off and your mind had been imprinted with numbers, it was as though you could only think in numbers.

Taking a much-deserved rest, you reclined your chair, just as your eyes had closed, you heard a ping from your phone. Groaning, you dug your phone from your front pocket.

1 NEW EMAIL: [email protected]

Hi, just finished work on your laptop. You can come and pick it up :).

You opened up the app and quickly typed a response. Omitting a smiley face of course. You, on the other hand, were professional.

When you did go and pick your laptop up, Baekhyun wasn’t there which really should have been a positive point but you’d at the last leg of the work day, you’d kind of wanted to see one happy face. But that was all it was. Stuck on the cover was a neon yellow post, written in surprisingly neat handwriting was a small note telling you that there shouldn’t be any more issues and if there was, you could just email him.

You’d walked out of the IT Office with the intent of throwing the note in the nearest bin, but you’d carried the small note even when you’d reached your apartment. Absentmindedly of course.

A/N - lol, this was supoosed to be a lot longer than i’ve written but uh…i’m a lazy person so this is it. It was really supposed to be the first chapter to a ‘kimi wa petto’ inspired series.

#baekhyun scenario #exo scenario #baekhyun fluff #exo fluff #kpop scenario #baekhyun fanfic #8bityeol

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makingbabyk · 4 years

Text

November 26 2019

Today has been a day. The way it was scheduled was supposed to be thus: Work until 1pm, get to the clinic by 1:30pm in order to sign in for my tube test, then my counselling session was scheduled for 4:30pm, which was supposed to be that late since I was told I might not get out of the tube test until 3:30 or 4pm.

The tube test’s start at 2pm and are first come, first served. When I got there I was number 3 on the list, so I settled in and prepared to wait an hour. I was surprised to be called back just 20 minutes later, where I learned the Doc doing the test that day had had a cancellation and was going to start early, plus the two people ahead of me on the list weren’t in the clinic for some reason, so I got to go first.

The test was AWFUL. They put a catheter up to my cervix, inject a dye and insert a trans-vaginal ultrasound and take a look to see if the fallopian tubes are blocked or not. Pressure against the cervix hurts like a mofo, so the catheter was awful, and they had to inject dye a few different times which I could feel every time. They could see my left tube fine, it was completely clear. But the right tube they couldn’t really see, apparently it was hiding behind some part of my large intestine or something. Though they did say I had a really nice follicle maturing on the right side.

After the test I got dressed and went to reception to find out where I had to go for my counselling session, and since it wasn’t even 2:30 at that point, I asked if they could check and see if the counsellor could get me in earlier. Thankfully Jan, the counsellor, was free right then so I only had to go down a floor and wait a few minutes before getting in to see her.

I was very nervous about that session, but she was lovely. I told her why I was going through this process, and we talked about my support network, what’s been going on in my life the last few years, the donor selection process. Everything. She seemed really happy with my answers and said she felt I was very well prepared for this process. She also encouraged me to attend a support group she runs for single folks having kids on their own. It meets the 4th Thursday of each month, so I’m going to try and go this week. It’ll be a good networking opportunity, and, according to Jan, it’s a great resource of like minded people. Apparently, they're a pretty close group and they even have a holiday social in January and a big party in August. I’m looking forward to checking it out.

So now I’ve just got to wait until my follow up on December 4, where Dr Dv and I will go over the next steps and decide when to start.

More to come….

December 5, 2019

So I went to the support group last week and it was wonderful. Everyone had something to say and a story to share. Lots of questions were asked and we were all able to give our perspectives, it was really great.

I have my follow up with Dr Dv yesterday and it went great. I got there about 10 minutes early and ended up waiting a bit for her, but just before she came and got me the counsellor, Jan, was walking through the clinic and stopped to chat with me.

Then Dr. Dv came and we went back to her office to go over everything.

All of my results came back good. My AMH, which measures ovarian reserve, came back about mid range, which is good because being too high can mean you have PCOS (poly-cycstic Ovarian syndrome). My CBC was a bit wonky, which she thought might mean I didn’t drink enough water so we redid that test. And everything else was normal or at least expected based on my past physicals.

Then we went over my options and decided on a game plan. Basically we’re going with a medicated IUI. I’ll be taking Letrozole for 5 days during my cycle to encourage two follicles to mature, instead of the usual one. That will double my chances of one fertilizing. It also increases your chances of multiples, but, as she said, that change goes up to 7-15%, however in her time she hasn’t seen it in 5% of cases, so she’s not overly concerned. The goal is to for me to get pregnant within 3 cycles.

The other options were no drugs with IUI, which would mean less chance of pregnancy each cycle, and we’d probably try 6 cycles before re-evaluating. Or we could go straight to IVF, which she thought was extreme given my age. If I was closer to or over 40 she might recommend it, but she didn’t think it would be necessary.

The plan is to skip my next cycle, since that would probably put insemination right over Christmas, and start in January. Based on my calculations, but January cycle with start January 3 or 4 and then the schedule will be:

Day 2 or 3: go in for cycle monitoring. This will be bloodwork and ultrasound. Dr Dv will review the results that day and call me to tell me when I have to come in next and when to start taking Letrozole.

Days 5-10: I need to go in to get the tube test done again. She wants to be able to see the tube they couldn’t see last time (my left one I think), she can’t do the insemination if the tube is blocked and that’s the side the egg will be released from that month. During this time I’ll probably have to go in every few days for cycle monitoring to see how things are progressing.

Day11+: Insemination sometime after day 10. I’ll continue to go in for cycle monitoring and when Dr Dv see the eggs are getting ready to release in the next day or two, she’ll call me and tell me when to come in for insemination.

After insemination there’s the dreaded two week wait before pregnancy testing (I believe that’s blood and another ultrasound) and I get to see if it worked. If it didn’t then we start all over again the next cycle.

It’s kinda crazy that this is going to happen so soon, yet January also feels so far away lol. I definitely don’t want to get started any sooner, but I’m glad it’s happening at the beginning of the month.

More to come….

December 7, 2019

I’ve been trying to put into words how I’m feeling, but the words aren’t coming. So to put it plainly…

I’m feeling anxious and maudlin, maybe because I’m sleep deprived

A lot of my high school friends who have kids that are already in school are posting about christmas and it’s making me ache for a baby

I’m terrified that I’m making a mistake doing this alone

I’m worried because it feels like this is happening to easily for me, and I honestly think it should be harder. But I also don’t want to borrow trouble so I’m trying to ignore that feeling, but it wasn’t helping.

I’m debating going back to Jan, the counsellor, for another session. But I can’t seem to articulate my thoughts to myself, so I’m not confident in my ability to make sense to her.

On top of this I’m moving February 1 and the movers are going to run me about $600+, which is about 50% more than I paid last time. So that’s going to cut into my cash flow for cycles, but I guess that’s what credit cards and overtime is for. I’m going to work as much overtime the next two weeks as I can get away with, so I can bank as much cash as possible. It’s a bit of a mess, but I’m done my christmas shopping, so I should be able to control my expenses over the next couple of months much better. I mean, how much do I really need to eat? I’m joking, well I’m serious in that if I cut out junk food (aka take out) I’ll save myself a boatload of money. I’ve also got a freezer full of stuff I should eat before moving, and it’s much healthier than what I usually eat for lunch.

I’m rambling, so I’m gonna log out now.

More to come….

January 7, 2020

Christmas and New Years have come and gone. It was a busy holiday season on top of a busy period at work. But I was able to crank out some decent overtime, which will pay for my movers at the end of the month, and also pay off some credit card bills to make some room for the fertility bills

My period is due to start today, which means day 2 or 3 is coming soon, and with that comes my first cycle monitoring appointment. I’m excited and terrified still, but it honestly doesn’t seem real some days.

My move is happening at the end of this month, and my promotion, which I’ve been waiting for since October, should come through this month as well. But I’m not really holding my breath on that one. It’ll happen when it happens.

I’m trying to be a realist and remember that the likelihood of insemination working on the first try is slim to non existent, but I’m hopeful it’ll work within three.

Not much else to report I guess

More to come…

January 8, 2020

My period finally started today. It was due yesterday, but it’s been at least a day or two early the last three months, so I was expecting it earlier. But of course that means it would come late.

Regardless, it’s here now and that means cycle monitoring starts. First visit is Friday.

More to come…

January 9, 2020

I go for my first cycle monitoring appointment tomorrow. I’m fucking terrified.

What if I got the days wrong?

What if the cycle doesn’t start until my period is done?

What if I forget to sign up on one of the clip-boards?

What if they see something weird on the ultrasound and refuse to inseminate me?

What if.

What if..

What if...

I’m a fucking mess.

More to come…

January 10, 2020 (7:05 am)

Cycle monitoring today. Got here at 6:30am and the door was locked. Another woman showed up and we waited outside for a few minutes for one of the techs who was able to let us in. Then it was a wait until 7am when the office doors were opened.

Had to sign up on ultrasound, Dr Dv and blood work clipboards (I didn’t screw it up!) and then take a seat. I was first in line so I’m number one for ultrasound, two for the Dr Dv (she’s going to call me anyway) and three for bloodwork.

Now to wait.

(7:45am)

I was done inside 30 minutes. Told work I was going to be an hour later. Instead I’m 15 minutes early. Needless to say I’m giggling at my desk over the absurdity of it all.

Dr Dv will give me a call later this morning to let me know when to come in next and if I should start my meds yet.

I also booked my 2nd tube test for January 14, which will be a bucket of fun I’m sure.

I did meet a couple of nice ladies in the line outside the office, one was a first timer like me, and the other is on her 2nd cycle. It felt good to recognize a couple of faces as I moved through the office.

(9:10am)

Oh, and I turned my ankle on a pothole in the middle of an intersection on my way to the clinic this morning, so my right ankle is screaming, my left wrist (from catching myself as I went down) aches and my left knee was scraped. And the system at work is down. Hopefully It’ll come back before the end of the day, we’re supposed to do OT tomorrow (Saturday).

It’s been a day folks.

(10:20am)

Of course the doc called while I was in my daily meeting.

Blood work was good. I’m going to start the meds today, I need to take them for 5 days. And I go back for the next cycle monitoring on Day 11, which is Saturday Jan 18. I’ll see Dr Dv that day and IUI should be within a few days of that. Got to try and remember to ask if I can pay admin fees early and what the process looks like on the IUI day.

(4:05pm)

They system never came back up and OT for tomorrow is cancelled. Monday is gonna be an adventure for sure.

More to come…

January 11, 2020

So I haven't really updated about the rest of my life here.

I move at the end of the month, currently the movers are booked for January 31, but I’m hoping to get that changed to January 29, the mover cost will go down by $30 an hour if I can get it 2 days earlier. I’m going to the co-op this coming wednesday so I can take some measurements for windows, I also want to take some pictures and get an idea on where the best place to park the moving truck is. I’m hoping the building has a service elevator and I won’t just have to use the main elevators. But I’m not counting on it.

I’ve also been working on getting a promotion at work. It was supposed to come through in October but it didn’t. My manager just told me he was working on it.

Well on New Years Eve I had a short conversation with him about leaving early, everyone else on the team had been bugging him about leaving 30 minutes early, at 4pm, but since 4pm is my regular end time i didn’t say anything. Until we got to 3:45pm and all my work was done, plus there was only a few end of day transactions left, so I asked if I could leave then and he told me I should stay and help my teammates finish their work. Needless to say I felt like he was saying I wasn’t a team player, and that really angered me. I ended up leaving at exactly 4pm without saying anything to anyone and it took a few days for me to calm down and not be so upset by it. After spending a couple of days thinking about it, I realized most of my anger was about my frustration over this promotion. So I went in and talked to him about it. I made sure to be clear that I was upset by the conversation we’d had, and he was very understanding. He appreciated me coming to him and apologized for what was mainly him not being clear and not really thinking about what I was asking for as a person, he was mostly focussed on the team as a whole.

Then I explained my frustration over the promotion, and how it was mostly rooted in the fact that I didn’t know WHY it wasn’t happening. He explained that it was his and our directors fault, they were not being as quick as they should be in getting the new job description for my role completed. It’s annoying and very frustrating, but at least I know why, and it should be completely this month. Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll backdate it, though I’m not holding my breath.

Over all it’s been an interesting start to the year and the rest of 2020 is probably going to be just as fun.

More to come….

January 13, 2020

So this entry might not stay in, but I feel the need to get some stuff off my chest.

Let me start by saying that I understand that I made the decision to take this journey on my own. I am fully aware that I don’t have anyone else going to appointments with me, or anyone holding my hand when I have procedures done.

But nonetheless I’m disappointed. When I’ve spoken about this taking this journey with other people, I’ve gotten a lot of excited and happy responses. Everyone has been thrilled for me, and seemed really impressed that I’m going for this on my own. But once the journey actually started… things changed.

Either the people who said they wanted to be there aren’t, or they don’t seem at all interested in the process. I feel like I’m doing a lot of talking, providing a lot of information, that no one is asking for. I’ve made no secret of when my doctors appointments are, but I never get “hey, how’d it go?” from the people who, previously, were the most excited about it.

So I’ve made the choice to stop talking about it, unless you ask. I’m starting to feel selfish and like I’m giving you too much information that you don’t want, and that’s not fair to you, or a good feeling for me.

Instead I’ll focus on chronicling my journey here, and sharing with my support group. And if people want to know, or come to me with “why haven’t I gotten an update?” I’ll tell them.

But I can’t be the one who starts every conversation. I can’t be the one always doing the reaching out.

I’m going to start being selfish in a different way, I’m going to start taking care of myself. If you want to know, ask. And if you don’t, well, don’t worry, I won’t bother you with my issues from now on.

More to come…

January 14, 2020

Today was my second tube test. To say I wasn’t looking forward to it is an understatement but I needed to get it done since one tube was blocked from view last time. The Dr Dv won’t do IUI if she sees the egg is about to release on the side that they couldn’t get a view of. And they won’t know which side it is until IUI day so I’d end up wasting over $1000 if they couldn’t get a clear view.

So I got off work at 1pm and headed to the clinic. I was signed in (number 1 on the list) at 1:20pm and settled in for what I’d hoped would only be a 40 minute wait.

Needless to say, when it hit 2:40 and I was still waiting, I was less than impressed.

The nurse called me around 2:50 and told me I needed to pee in a cup so they could confirm I wasn’t pregnant. Then she took me to the room where I got undressed. And then proceeded to wait another 30 minutes. Twice someone came in and told me the Dr was delayed, the second time I was less than polite in my reply.

Dr L came in about 3:20. He was nice enough, for someone who didn’t feel the need to even introduce himself. But he told me everything he was doing before he did it, told I was doing really well, and was done in under 5 minutes. So I’ve forgiven him for making me wait so fucking long.

Anyway, both tubes are clear!

On Saturday I’ll go in for another cycle monitoring appointment and see Dr Dv that day. She’ll have a better idea of when IUI day will be at that point.

Holy crap I could be getting inseminated this time next week. That’s crazy.

Now it’s home to do a bit of packing and go to bed early.

More to come….

January 18, 2020 (7:50am)

Cycle monitoring again today. Getting up at 6am on a Saturday to get blood drawn and an ultrasound up my vagina is not a fun way to start the weekend.

Doesn’t help that my stomach is unimpressed with me. Not sure if that’s nerves or what. I’m feeling a bit bloated and cramps, which is weird for this point in my cycle. It could be I’m hyper aware of my body because of this process, or maybe it’s the drugs. Or maybe it all in my head. Who knows.

(10:45am)

Just got home from the appointment. Dr Dv says I have two nice looking follicles. One at 17mm one at 19mm. She wants to give the 17mm one another day to grow so I have to go back tomorrow.

So it’s another trip downtown tomorrow to check on that, and if I haven’t surged they’re going to give me a trigger shot to ensure I ovulate in the following 36 hours. Then Monday I’ll go in for another ultrasound and bloodwork followed by the IUI.

I’m fucking terrified.

(10:20pm)

I’m getting ready for bed and all the sudden I’m feeling very melancholy. I assume it’s the medication making me emotional, but honestly…. I’m having some doubt. I’m all alone. And even though I know I have people I could call if I need help, I’m unreasonably upset that I need to ask for it.

I fully admit that this is my problem, and not anyone else’s. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing someone would call and ask how things are going. Offer to help. Or even just want to hang out.

I guess I’ve always been a loner, and if there isn’t an event of some kind, I’m not really the person people call just to chill. I don't really know why. And maybe I’m too old to change.

Going to head to bed and hope tomorrow morning has me feeling better about everything.

Another 6am day for cycle monitoring.

More to come…

January 19, 2020 (7:38am)

Another day. Another cycle monitoring.

Not feeling much better this morning. But all I can do is power through. I know I’m making the right choices for me, so a little doubt isn’t going to stop the journey now.

January 20, 2020 (7:25am)

I wasn’t really in the mood to update yesterday. It took most of the day for me to shake the funk I’d gotten into.

My bloodwork and ultrasound were good. Then I waited for quite awhile to see a Dr. Dr Dv wasn’t in yesterday so I ended up seeing Dr B. He was very nice and took the time to explain what would happen next, which I appreciated considering how insane the clinic was yesterday morning.

He confirmed IUI for today, and said I needed the trigger shot.

So after talking to him I went and waited for a few more minutes for the nurse who took me back for the shot and then explained the IUI-day process even more.

She then took me to reception to pay for the trigger shot ($108) and the IUI admin fee ($495) before I was free to go.

I decided to take today as a personal day since I’m not sure what the day is going to be like and I’m not feeling 100%, mentally, still.

I got here at 6:30 this morning and waited, as always, for the clinic to open. At 7am I signed in for ultrasound, blood and to see Dr Dv. Since I was so high on the lists I decided to wait until after they were done to head to andrology to sign and have my donor sperm thawed and prepped.

Blood and ultrasound went fine and the signing was quick. So now I’m waiting for the Dr to call me back. I’m not sure if I’m meeting her before I go back to be inseminated or not.

But I do know I’ve got an hour before anything happens. Thankfully they’ve got wifi and I brought a book.

(8:38am)

It’s been just over an hour and now I’m getting nervous again.

I really don’t want to do this alone. But I’ll power through.

(9:49am)

I’m lying here for the ten minute wait. The insemination went well and after this I just have to get my suppositories from the nurse and go home.

Facebook just told me it’s apparently blue Monday, the most depressing day of the year. Not gonna lie, I kinda like that this was my insemination date.

(11:45am)

It honestly doesn’t feel real. I’ll be using progesterone suppositories until February 2, when I go in for a pregnancy test.

The dreaded two week wait.

Thankfully I’ll be busy with packing, moving and unpacking which should hopefully keep me distracted enough to not obsess over it all.

We’ll see.

More to come….

January 21, 2020

So the last couple of days have been a bit of a train wreck for me, emotionally. I’ve just been feeling very down, and having some doubts about pretty much everything. I also didn’t get nearly as much packing done as I wanted to this weekend.

But yesterday a friend reached out and asked me how the day went. It helped me remember that there are some people who care about what I’m going through right now.

Okay, that’s not fair. I know all of my friends and family care, but I can tell they don’t know how to handle this process, so they’ve pretty much decided to stay hands off. Which is their choice. It’s just a bit isolating.

Anyway, I texted with K for a bit and went to bed feeling less alone that I had during the day.

Got up this morning and it’s back into the work routine. Unfortunately I wasn’t the only person who took an unexpected day yesterday, so the workload is a bit of a mess. And I had to make it clear to the team that I wouldn’t be working any overtime until after my January 29 move day, because I have too much to do.

Now to power through the rest of the day and get some packing done when I get home.

The next 12 days are going to be interesting, that’s for sure.

More to come…

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