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chrollohearttags · 5 months

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“silly boy, come find me when you’re older!” • a. artlert

synopsis: two lovers realize their relationship isn’t meant to be but that doesn’t mean they have to part ways forever..

content + themes: fem!reader (black coded), age gap (2-3 years, armin is 19, reader is 21-22) college au-ish (armin is going to nursing school + reader is a business grad), star-crossed lovers trope, angst + comfort, missionary, riding, hand holding, heavy kissing, crying (not dacryphila), accidental creampie, pet names (baby, mama, baby boy, angel), drug mentions, he gets possessive for like .2 seconds.

word count: 3.1K

📝: I have been so in love with fluff and the idea of soft smut lately (maybe it’s the holidays, maybe it’s my hormones..who knows!) but this is a part of a new au I’m starting! A new story that’ll be coming out soon and I can’t wait. For now, enjoy one of several side fics to accompany it! Also, please tell me y’all know this title reference 😭

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“I really wish you wouldn’t look at me like that…”

the phrase seemed to have alluded him yet again..slipping through one ear and out the next. Almost as if only his body was present and his mind and spirit were elsewhere. It was to be expected though..

“..armie..? Aren’t you going to say something, baby? Anything?..”

you had just confided in him quite possibly the worst thing ever. In truth, his heart was breaking and there wasn’t a single thing that either of you could do to mend it. Although, you felt solely responsible..that the reason for his pain was entirely your fault. But it was a necessary confession nonetheless. One that you truly believed would benefit you both. Distance. Distance between the two of you so that he could properly pursue his education. A long sought after dream of becoming a nurse. Following directly in his mother’s footsteps and making her proud..it was all Armin ever wanted. As it stood, that was a mere concept and it was thanks to the girl lying next to him. His sweet, beloved (y/n). The (y/n) he reunited with at a house party one night and had been wildly entangled with ever since. Hooking up, drinking and smoking…what most peers your age was doing but you also had bigger aspirations for both Armin and yourself. He wanted to become a registered nurse, working with children and you were already two years deep into your collegiate journey as a business major. Laser focused and ambitious..ready to conquer your goals. You couldn’t waste your lives away in the back of his car, hotboxing and having sex. As fun as this little whirlwind romance was, you had to cut things off. At least for the foreseeable future..for both of your sakes. It wasn’t an easy decision in the slightest and you were far more torn up by the situation than what you were letting on but it had to be done. Regardless of your emotions..

“..I just don’t understand..I mean, is there someone else? Why don’t you want me anymore?…”

there it was..underneath all of those newly etched tattoos, shaggy blonde locks and suave charm lied that sweet, gentle boy. The same nerdy kid you’d first encountered whilst attending the same high school. Although two years apart, you found him to be adorable and couldn’t help but to grace the awkward brainiac with a smile every morning on his visits to the library. A beautiful goddess like you even acknowledging him? He was grateful for that alone! But it wasn’t until his senior year did the two of you reconnect. By that time, he had shed his thick, wire framed glasses for icy blue contacts to match his own..grew out his blonde bowl cut to a curly shag and had even acquired a couple of art pieces on his arm. Not to mention, gained some muscle from playing basketball. Some say you were the catalyst for his sudden change. Although this appearance was new, deep down, he was still that wide eyed genius with unbelievable intelligence. And best believe, your kindness wasn’t lost on him. So it came as no surprise, when you happened to cross paths with him at a graduation party that your younger sister, who happened to be in the same class with him, was attending..he found the courage to finally talk to you face to face. All of his newfound confidence flew out of the window when he saw you..that ethereal skin, deity like features and of course, that smile. That smile that made his heart flutter. “You haven’t changed a bit, baby boy…”

certainly his looks had, but you saw through all of that. You saw Armin for who he truly was and for that, he couldn’t allow you to slip away without confessing his true feelings. So that night, with liquor in his veins, he charmed you with sweet words and told you that he’d always had the biggest crush on you. It didn’t take long for you guys to get involved..days after that party, you began seeing one another. Both romantically and intimately. However, your relationship wasn’t exactly conventional or ideal..you were good for each other, perhaps a little too well. Because every moment that presented itself, you’d find yourself in every bed, couch, bathroom or backseat..going at it like rabid animals. The sex was insane and you couldn’t get enough of each other. It was only coupled by the sensation of the drugs coursing your veins..stimulants that sent your mind to places you didn’t need to be. Although there was never a single fight between you two, you knew the relationship wasn’t a healthy one. You encouraged each other’s worst habits. He had gotten a full ride scholarship to his dream school and you had obtained several as well for your ideal program. But you both stood to lose those if you didn’t make some changes. Ditching class to go smoke and then fucking him in every square inch of your off campus apartment. Sending him nudes and salacious messages during class, along with always being underneath each other. He’d never be able to focus and stay on track at this rate! Hence why you had to be the mature one and break things off. Even if it brought you to tears as well. So with a shaky palm, as you lay in bed next to one another, you’d bring a hand to his face and quell his doubts.

“You couldn’t possibly think that..you're the only one I want, Armin. I swear on everything..but..we can’t keep doing this. I love you so much but we’re no good for each other. At least not right now..”

but he’d attest, almost immediately. Insisting that he could buckle down and focus on his goals at hand. However, your mind was made up. That blind obsession and adoration for you would never allow him his room for growth. It wasn’t fair. Here you were only another year shy of receiving your degree and he was barely even started. You had to give him a fair shot, even if it meant removing yourself from the equation. You had even found an internship. He’d try to talk you out of it, convince you that he could juggle both college and you but regardless of how smart he was, nursing school was an entirely different beast in and of itself. It would require his full attention and dedication if he wanted to be an exceptional caregiver. No drugs, no distractions…no you. His studies deserved all of his time.

“So why can’t we make it work then? Isn’t that what couples do or was I nothing more than a joke?”

“Armin…”

in that moment, he’d tug away and roll over onto his side, giving you the proverbial cold shoulder and it stung like hell. The last thing you wanted to do was fight the man you loved. If anything, you wished things could stay like this forever. But you both had growing up to do and until that happened, it was best you parted ways.

“..I have an idea..”

But it wasn’t something that had to be permanent..for now though, there was no need to be upset with one another when you could spend your remaining time enjoying yourselves. Gently pulling him back towards you, you’d maneuver your legs until you were able to crawl on top of him. Those long acrylics scaled his freshly tattooed chest as you gently straddled his waist..at that moment, his little cheeks flushed red and you’d feel his breathing becoming slightly heavier. You’d lean down and begin peppering light kisses to his temple and all around his face..all while slowly rolling your hips against his crotch. With you, he was vulnerable..at his softest and would undoubtedly listen to whatever you said. “I’m all ears..”

that’s when you’d devise a plan that you believed that both of you could agree upon. An agreement of sorts.. “..two years..in two years, we can see each other again, just like this. We’ll work hard and reach our goals. You’ll be in your senior year, doing clinicals and I’ll be at my new job. We can find a place and finally start our lives together. Armin, I love you so much and I don’t want to see you throw your life away. Please..promise me you’ll find your way back to me when you’re ready. When we’re both in a better place..” once he spotted your tearful plea and heard the tone in your voice, he knew what had to be done. Personal feelings aside..you were absolutely right. He knew if he stood any chance of keeping you in his life, he had to blossom into a grown man that you could be proud of. One that was worthy of being called yours. Reaching up, Armin would grasp your hand and bring it to his lips for a gentle kiss, holding it close. He wanted to remember that feeling..savor it and savor you as well. God, he didn’t want you to leave, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye!..but this was the only way. The only way he could ensure that he got to have you in the long run. He wanted you two to grow old together so he’d make this temporary sacrifice to be able to share an eternity with you.

“..you have my word, angel. I promise..I promise I’ll come back to you a better man than what I’ve been..”

“Then take me…right here.”

just then, you’d feel his hand snake up your spine and tug you down towards his chest..not another word was exchanged. Just slow, tender pecks and breathy moans..immersed in the covers and in one another, you’d allow the moment to take you both. Your palms cupping his cheek and his gripping your ass, you’d tousle around underneath the sheets. It didn’t take long for the endearing moment to become rather heated but it was a true testament of the passion between you two. In a moment of haste, his nails would gently dig into the curvature of your back as you leaned up. In a matter of minutes, you’d feel his once flaccid erect growing harder underneath you. The sensation of your dripping heat making direct contact with him..and it was driving him crazy! He needed you so badly right now and you were just the same.

“Armieeee..”

calling out with a high pitched whimper as you ground yourself against him. You couldn’t stop either..almost as if you’d simply combust if you were to be pulled away from him right now. Frail cries would escape his lips as well but he’d find a semblance of control to satisfy your desires, which took precedence over everything else.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you need..”

cooing to you in that sweet, loving tone that always managed to turn you to meet putty in his hands every time. You were still hopelessly rutting yourself against him; arousal overflowing from between your thighs that quickly. He knew what you wanted but he needed to hear you say the fateful words..give him instruction and guidance the way you had always done. “Hey, look at me, mama..” gently snatching your head forward and forcing eye contact as your chest heaved. “N-need you. Need you so bad, baby..please. Make love to me..” and with that whiny declaration, he’d make haste in fulfilling your wish. With a cocked smile, Armin would reign you in tighter, reaching for you. “Then here..take my hands, angel..” on his command, your hands would join in a gentle clasp, combining as one as you adjusted your lower half to align with his. He’d buck his hips upward and you’d lower yourself down as your bodies became one… meeting in an instant. “Fuck…” the word escaping your mouths simultaneously along with gentle moans. That seemed to be the theme for the night. A stark comparison to the wild nights you shared together previously. Perhaps.. it was the realization that this was really the last time you’d get to do this for a while. That he wouldn’t be able to feel the comfort of your body, to smell your intoxicating scent..to clash with your plump lips..to taste the sticky gloss that coated them. To stare into those gorgeous brown eyes. So as he lie underneath you, being rode to kingdom come as your tightness constricted around him once more, Armin would close his eyes and absorb every memory, every fiber of you..ensuring that he’d never forget his first and true love.

“There you go, baby. Right there..ride me—fuck!”

and he couldn’t possibly forget how you made him feel. How you set him ablaze with your overwhelming passion..still bound hand in hand, heart to heart, you’d keep going. Throwing your head to the wind and calling out your lover’s name, lifting it to the heavens as you bounced up and down. Taking him to your hilt; allowing that swollen tip to prod your most sensitive area. “Armin, baby! Yes..oh my gosh, you feel so good.” For the first time, you didn’t just fuck him. His flesh was more than a mere vessel of pleasure..it was your soul becoming one with his own. You were experiencing true pleasure in its purest form..and neither of you wanted it to end. Finally opening his eyes, he’d be greeted by the ethereal view of your breasts swaying and your beautiful face throwed in ecstasy filled bliss. “Aw, baby..you’re so beautiful. My favorite view in the entire world.” Smiling as tears streamed generously down your cheeks. “Oh my God—I love you, Armin! I love you so much.” Confessing with all that you could muster. And that warm, gushing sensation derived from your sex wasn’t lost on Armin either. He’d find himself in a fit of heaving as your walls closed in around his cock. Squeezing him as if to never let go. “Ahh!-shit..I love you too, baby!—“

in that moment, he could no longer hold back his urges. His need to claim full dominion over you..hastily, he’d bring you to a cease before maneuvering and flipping you over onto your back. It was then that he’d mount you. Diving between your legs as he held each in place. He didn’t even take a moment to adjust. It was mere seconds before you’d find yourself filled with him yet again and he’d begin his descent into your mix. Sloshing and drumming up slick as your thighs collided in a fiery haze. The bed..the one that you’d messed around in so many times before served as the place of consummation for your devotion tonight..ricocheting and colliding with the wall as thunderous slams erupted. Your limbs entangled as your legs found home around his waist and your arms on his back. His entire frame lay bare and pressed to your own as those hips crashed into you. It felt unreal..so unbelievably unreal. But this was the present..your reality for the time being so you’d savor every last moment you got together. Drilling further into your body, his pace sped to a barrage of more steady, consistent strokes. Ones that he would accompany with sloppy tongue kisses. Filling your mouth with them as he pounded you gently. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Regardless of how many times you slept together, something about this moment was starkly different. “Look at me, (y/n)!…” once again, snatching your head forward to meet his gaze. “You’re mine..you’re mine and I don’t give a damn where you go. I belong to you, you hear me? Don’t forget that..” those tears that had been brimming in his eyes finally fell and you’d affirm his sentiment with a fierce nod of your head, assuring him that no amount of distance or time could ever dissipate the love you shared for one another. “Yes baby! And I’m all yours, forever. I won’t ever leave you.” Sealing your promises with one final act..

“Yeah? You mean that?” “Every word, baby. I want you to always be with me..” Vocalizing back and forth as he continually thrashed around inside of your pussy until he sensed the urge that you were close. Upholding one another’s heads in a passionate fury, you’d exchange breathy words amid your love making. Telling him you’re near your peak and him telling you to let go. “Come for me, baby. You can come all over—“ but alas, before he could grant you permission, it would seem that he’d reach his climax first; glaring with a wide eyed expression as his seed filled you to the brim..something he’d never done before! Cursing himself and apologizing as he shook violently, draining every drop of himself into you. Perhaps he took your words a bit too literal but it was far too late to turn back now and shortly after, you’d follow. Showering him with a splatter of sticky rain. Squeezing and dripping all down his shaft. You’d convulse and flail around the mattress until he was able to quell you with gentle kisses. “I’m right here, mama. Let it out, it’s okay..” but once you were back into consciousness, you still wouldn’t let go and you remained entangled like this minutes afterwards. Exchanging “I love you’s” and sweet nothings. Along with tears..shedding them not for what would be lost but the time you had together and the comfort in knowing that you’d reunite soon enough. This time as more than friends with benefits or even mere freshmen sweethearts. But as an entity, an item that could never be separated because your bond was forged on a stronger foundation than one made of pure lust. It was love that would drive you to be better versions of yourselves, to work hard and it was love..that would bring you right back to one another when the time was truly right!

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@citysweet @greenieweeniesworld @hoohoohope @c0pkiller @bey0nseh @violetxxvenom @dragonmaiden79 @fuck-your-chickenstrips-hoe @saiki-enthusiast

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loveinhawkins · 4 days

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When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.

Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.

If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.

The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.

Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.

But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.

It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.

Almost every senior.

It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.

But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.

He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.

It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.

He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.

But actually sitting there is his own choice.

He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.

Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.

So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.

“Wanna sign?”

Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.

“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.

Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.

Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.

Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.

“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”

Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.

And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.

The bell rings.

Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.

Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.

But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—

“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.

It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.

Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.

“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”

Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.

Good luck, Steve. —Eddie

Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.

Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.

And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.

He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it all together, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.

#back with the unexpected kindness in high school agenda #pre steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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joelhoney · 6 months

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#1 girl

pairing: dbf joel miller x afab/sorority sister reader

kenny here... tumblr Blipped me u guys. but i loved this too much to let it waste into nothingness. so here we go again take two using an ancient blog i never even used (from 2016 mind u...) enjoy!

You're too wrapped up in sorority duties to remember somebody's supposed to pick you up and drive you home tonight. One pissed-off Joel, curious conversation, and cowboy hat later, your evening takes an unexpected turn.

warnings: no outbreak au, dbf!joel, self gratuitous age gap (21/51), shy reader w/ some bursts of confidence, blowjob (m receiving), handjob (f receiving), dirty talk, praise, degradation too..., overuse of pet names... must b all

Of all the ways you imagined spending your fifth day of spring break, the last was in your dad’s best friend’s pickup truck with lame rock playing dryly through the console radio. In fact, last is generous—the idea itself had never even been conjured in your head.

The reason why is because you and your dad’s best friend—Mr. Miller—don’t typically interact beyond the confines of dinners, mandatory laughter, and the occasional one-on-one about something like boys in college, or classes in college, or the drive to college. Nothing much had changed when you moved the brief drive away to UT Austin, and between you everything’s remained the same, even now in your senior year.

For instance, a break—summer, spring, winter—would begin with your parents picking you up and shuttling off to the house, and end with an affair of the similar sort. Quickly into your first year, though, you learned to always insist you either leave school late or leave home early for spring break to take advantage of campus parties, especially because your senior year had cemented your shiny new position as President of Alpha Phi.

Any officer position in a sorority already came with a good deal of responsibility, let alone the presidency; and in addition to having recently turned twenty-one, the role required you to exhaust every drop of social battery, every ounce of skill you had at party hosting and alcohol obtaining without the use of a flimsy fake.

The eliminated nerves of using fakes made you much less nervous during parties, which often led to you letting more loose than usual. This party you’re in was thrown by some frat on campus, but this house is your last place of four; first two pregames, then a bar, then here. At some point at the bar your sisters had surprised you with a fun gift for the night, so you’re also wearing a pink sash, onto which rhinestones spelling out #1 Girl have been glued with precision.

Already you’re dizzy, wiping clammy fingers on the stiff cotton of your tight tank top, the curve of your tits spilling over the Alpha Phi logo. It’s small on you, the hem high above your navel and higher above the loose, low hem of your denim shorts. If they fell low enough on your hips, the high arch of your pink thong would’ve shown itself—maybe it did at some point, you’re too loopy to care.

“Oh, no,” you’re saying, but you can barely hear yourself over the rap song playing and everyone singing along, “no, I hate Jäger.” You’re shaking your head at your best friend and Vice President, Lia, who raises two handfuls of the opaque liquid. She shakes her head, sets them down on the table you’re leaning against.

“Lighten up, duuude. We’re taking them to celebrate your first and last spring break as President.”

“Aw, fine,” you muse loudly, giving in. “Only this once.” Out of obligation and genuine gratitude, you allow yourself to stomach your least favorite drink—then another, and another, a bit of each shot dribbling down the column of your throat and stickily onto your chest.

Lia snaps at the red bra strap that peeks out of your tank strap, laughing. “Settle down, Prez.” A partygoer, rowdy as they come, roughly deposits a sweaty cowboy hat onto your head and you yelp in surprise, steadying it. Whoever gave this, I’m keeping it! you holler, laughing as you feed yourself a shot of something your tongue enjoys more.

Absolut crowds the inside of your mouth when you take it back, interrupted only when a hand comes to shake at your shoulder. In your rush to turn, you nearly hit them with your hat.

It’s Cole, a good friend and member of the frat whose house you’re currently getting tipsy in. His eyes are rimmed and the whole air of him smells like weed. He offers one greeting: “Yo.” His eyes slide down to your chest, where your tugged-down tank has exposed a few inches of your red bra’s lacy cups.

“Hey,” you say, the syllable sounding sticky. “Up here, you ass. Jägerbomb?” You offer a smile.

“‘M a’ight. Listen, some…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to place what he’s here to tell you. Then he nods, having remembered—“Right. Some old guy’s out front asking for you.”

“Asking for me? Old… guy?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, mind foggy. “My dad?” Shit. You’d completely forgotten they’d be picking you up today or tomorrow. Maybe they’d been waiting for hours—it’s one-thirty, the clock on the living room mantel reads.

“Nah, man, not your dad, this guy’s… he’s got a red pickup truck, um, he’s, like, he’s old looking.” He raises a hand above his own head. “Tall.” His voice is drawly with the weed high, but as soon as he said red pickup, you knew exactly who he was talking about. One look at your phone confirms it—five missed calls and a message, 11PM, sent by your dad: Joel’s in the area for work. He’s going out with buddies but can swing by the house to pick you up. I’m giving him your #.

“Fuck.” You blink. “Fuck! I gotta go.”

You never usually have to pack shit to go home, considering the drive isn’t too far. Briefly you consider making a detour to collect things from your sorority house, but you decide to sacrifice the laptop and the few important chargers. So, armed with only your phone, you wrench your way out of the crowd, a few goodbyes thrown in your direction and back.

The front door is open so the partygoers spill onto the front yard, intermittent conversation littering the area. Along the pavement, frat guys’ Civics and and Priuses are parked beside an old looking red pickup truck; leaned against it is—

“Mr. Miller,” you blurt out when you’re closer to him, voice steady (your mind is just as well, shocked back to lucidity from his presence). “I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be picking me up today—tonight—” You heave a sigh, apologetic, refusing to meet his eyes. “Sorry.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even from a few feet away you can make out the shape, the lines of muscle on his forearms. He looks tired, moody—more than usual—and your heart pangs with guilt at the idea that you could be the reason behind it. But despite your best—really, your best—efforts, your stomach still swoops the same way it did when you were seventeen and naive, enough to find next-door-neighbor Mr. Miller extremely handsome. Hell, extremely hot.

It didn’t make sense. You’d suspected your little crush would be that—an adolescent, childish thing, evaporating more and more into thin air with every drive made to campus. But he never stopped being handsome, never stopped his corny jokes and the pet names that got you warm every time you visited over break. You had plenty of eye candy on campus, athletes and gamers alike, and yes you’d been picky, but had managed to sleep with a select few—despite all of it, only the remnants of your fantasies of Mr. Miller satiated you when your hand creeps into the apex of your thighs late at night, lust wrangling shame into silence for a few minutes.

You blink and the train of thought is over—the real thing is here, eyebrows set low, mouth frowning.

“Kiddo,” he starts, his voice thin with exhaustion, “look, I’ve done my share of… drinkin’, and that. I get it. But you gotta…” He clicks his tongue, eyes looking your outfit up and down. “You gotta let me know, let your parents know, where you are, and if you’re okay. ‘Cause I really did not want to spend tonight drivin’ from house to bar, to bar to house, feelin’ like I was lookin’ all over Austin for you.”

“I know,” you supply quickly, nodding. Your hands, fidgety, find purchase on the fibres of the silk sash strung along your figure. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Miller. I didn’t check my phone the entire evening, and—”

“It’s okay.” He says, nonchalant, lifting himself off the side of the car to walk to the drivers’ side. Gruffly, he adds, “Car.”

You’re quick to tug the door open, settling yourself on the passenger seat and breathing nervously. Your legs are littered with body glitter, your chest with the tack of Jäger. You spot him outside, his walk slow. He’s annoyed—rightfully so—stopping just shy of the door to pinch at the bridge of his nose, his lips miming a slow exhale. When he finally wrangles himself to sit, it’s quiet for a minute, then another.

“Y’have fun?” He starts the car, thrumming it to life. You nod, then offer a verbal answer—yeah. He nods, wiping a palm over his face. “What were you up to?”

“I, um… I organized a pregame for my sorority.” You toy with the rogue strands of denim of your shorts. “We went to a bar, after… then another… then, well.” You gulp. “Here.” The last question escapes you in a shaky, breathy squeak. “And you?”

“Hah, sure, kid. Had some contractor thing, half an hour from here. Then drinks with a coupl’a buddies from work. Could’ve been home by eleven-thirty,” he says roughly, driving through the still-vibrant streets of campus, “but it’s nearin’ two and I’m on a college campus.” The urge to apologize bubbles at your lips, high in your stomach, but you remain quiet. After a few stretches of dry silence, he asks again. “That party must’ve been real fun for you to leave your old man—and me—on radio silence, wun’nit?”

“Sure,” you manage, stammering. “We were celebrating my sorority presidency.” The dark scenery of Austin blurs past.

“Oh, sorority presidency,” he repeats, both teasing and genuinely curious. “I did hear your dad mention you were in Alpha Phi, s’that right?” You nod. “What’s that, then? Do presidents get cowboy hats?”

Your face grows hot, hands reaching up to clutch at the rim of the hat atop your head. “No, this—somebody put it—it was a joke, Mr. Miller.” A huffy laugh escapes you. “Sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, and you wrench the reminder he’s 51 he’s 51 he’s 51 through your head while he pauses, “‘m drivin’ you around Austin late at night, and I’ve known you for your whole life. How ‘bout we drop the Mr. Miller act, alright?”

“Oh. Okay,” you say. His hands grip the steering wheel firmly, and your eyes wander to his arms, to how he’s basically stuffed into the shirt he’s wearing, big and broad and bulky. His eyes remain focused ahead, so you let yourself indulge a tad bit more—lower, to the material of his jeans. It’s dark in the truck, so you can’t see much, just the flex of his thighs. “Joel.”

“Attagirl.” You chew at the inside of your cheek, already feeling arousal simmering in you, low and dirty. You’re going to soak through this godforsaken thong. “Mind if I make a pit stop?” You shake your head profusely, watch as he pulls into a gas station parking lot. “Want anythin’, girl?”

“N—” your lips form, but you scrap your original answer. “Gum, if they have it.”

“Be damned if they don’t.” He slams the door shut and you watch him enter the store, watch him through the glass panels. He’s so broad. You’d nearly completely forgotten how stupidly you liked him, and now it’s coming, throttling back full-force, especially with the thrilling aspect of it possibly coming to fruition. You are, after all, an adult. And so is he, paying for his shit with a tight-lipped expression, arms crossed again, arms big and—Jesus.

You squeeze your thighs together, willing yourself to get your shit in place when he pulls the door open again, his eyes scanning your seated figure. He tosses you the packet of gum, and you respond with a sweet thank you, Mr. M—Joel, and you fiddle with the packaging as he starts the car again, driving until scenery grows more and more familiar, closer to home.

“By the way,” he says, voice husky with the unuse of not talking for a while. “Think it’s best you spend the night at my house tonight, kid. It’s late. Later than late.” 2:44, the console digital clock reads in blinky red text. “Your parents don't want the door rattlin’ open at this hour, so I’ll let you in the guest room.”

“Oh,” you say. “Sure.”

“D’you have a change of clothes?” He asks, even if he knows you climbed into the seat with nothing but your phone and a cowboy hat. You shake your head and he tsks. “You’re barely covered, sweetheart. Best be careful walkin’ around when the night’s this chilly.”

Barely covered. You think of every possible response, but what leaves your glossed lips is the riskiest: “What do you mean, barely covered?”

You figure if he starts saying shit like what are you insinuatin’, kiddo? You better sleep at yours tonight instead, it’s an easy out—you’re turning the corner onto your street now, and your stomach is boiling with nerves, sticky and anticipatory. “I jus’ mean… it shows a lotta skin.”

“It’s sorority merch, Joel,” you reply, half-amused and half-defensive.

“No, I”—he sighs, like he wants to backtrack what he’s just said—“I know, but… always worth somethin’ to be careful. Might catch a cold with all that leg… all that—you—showin’.” He parks in front of his house, this sizey, homey thing, and your heart flips knowing how familiar this place has been to you your entire life.

“I’m not going to wear winter gear to a spring break frat party.” You’re bolder, suddenly, but even if the statement is, your voice is level, meek, even. Joel nods, as if admitting defeat, and gets out of the car first; you follow, sneakers crunching against the asphalt as you follow him into the house.

“I hope,” he starts when you’re stationed beside him at the door, “I didn’t… offend you. I was jus’ concerned, is all.” Then he’s stoic again, slipping inside, straight to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water. He flicks a yellow light on and you squint when you get there, rubbing at your eyes to prevent them from aching.

You’re still rubbing at them when his gaze drops from your fussed-up hair and askew hat down to the shiny surface of your chest. Your goddamn top leaves him nothing to the imagination, your tits spilling out of it scandalously. The low cut even lets your bra peek through, red and bright and hey, you show up from college wearing these large university shirts and sweatpants—not this, never this. And your shorts, the way they’re really just a fucking belt, starting low on your hips and cut off high above your thighs.

Alpha Phi, the pink text on your white top reads on the left chest area. Right where your tits curve into the top, the slogan is printed: Union hand in hand. God, sororities and their fucking… quotable bullshit. And don’t get him started on the sash, this cutesy, frilly thing he wants to loop around your wrists so he can fuck you over the counter. He knows he can’t—it’s so wrong, so wrong. He’s known your dad for ages.

But you… you're so tempting, a little minx, chirping Mr. Miller all sweet and apologetic, chest out on full display. He blinks when he hears your voice filter through the fog in his head. “—off?”

“What was that, sweetheart?” His eyes meet yours again and he feels a twinge of embarrassment at the way your bashfulness has somewhat melted to give way to the clear amusement on your face. You must’ve spotted the way he ogled you; he wasn’t exactly trying his hardest to be subtle, unfortunately.

“D’you have something I can use to wipe myself off?” You gesture to your sticky collarbone area. “I got Jäger all over myself. Can’t handle the stuff.” You grimace at the memory, and he goes to grab a wet wipe; while waiting, you hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare legs swinging.

Joel turns to toss you the packet of wipes, but his throat dries before he can even call your name out. Your back is to him, and clearly you’re waiting for his return—you’ve busied yourself by sitting on his counter and letting the hot pink lace of your thong rise above the waistline of your shorts. Lord have mercy, he thinks to himself, adjusting his jeans as he walks back over to you.

“Wipes,” he says roughly, not anything else.

You accept the packet and smile shyly. “Can you…” you pause, the implication hovering over both of you, heavy. “Wait for me?” He nods, inviting. Warm. And he watches, inviting but not very warm anymore, the way you wipe over the expanse of your chest, over the curve of your tits, every other part of you dusted in glitter.

“So,” you say again. “Since we’re on first name basis now, Joel, I, um—I hope it’s okay to ask questions.”

“Sounds reasonable. Go for it,” he accepts.

“When’s the last time you went to a party?” Your smile is mischievous.

He chuckles, a huff of air. “...Long, long ago, kid. Back in my day, partyin’ meant beer, maybe a little weed… not that I'm complaining there, you understand.” He nods resolutely. “These days, a quiet home-cooked meal with just the people I really care about… is a party.”

“Wow, what an old guy answer,” you giggle. “Back in youuuur day.” Your raspy, honeyed voice wraps around the your with a teasing lilt.

“Oh, I’m old now, am I?” His stoic demeanor chips away when he laughs. “That makes you what, sweetheart? You’re barely a pup.”

At his words—at the utterance of pup—you roll your eyes and try to shift your seating so your thong doesn’t stick to your folds. “Okay, fine, next.” You’re not even wiping anymore, the material wrung into your fingers, which lay in a fist by your side. “When’s the last time you got shitfaced?”

He gives a grimace of a smile. “Aw… boy, it's been a while.” He comes closer, going from leaning on the opposite drawers to right beside you on the counter. You’re sitting and he’s leaning but still he’s taller, just a bit level. “But there was that one time back in my more adventurous days, when I was younger. A bachelor party wh… well, the details don't really bear talkin’ ‘bout in polite conversation.” He raises his eyebrows. “Why ya askin’ all this? What’s will all the last times?”

“I’m curious, is all.” You smile, leaning back; if his eyes drop just a bit, he’ll see right through your top, maybe even underneath the cup of your bra. “Okay, fine one last… last time.” You giggle, breathy. “When’s the last time you… had sex?”

The air shifts, and Joel clears his throat before chuckling. “S’none of your business, young lady. A gentleman is not raised to kiss and tell.”

“Oh, but he gets shitfaced n’ tells?” You test, pouting and leaning closer toward him so you can quiet your voice. “Come on. I won’t tell anyone I even asked.”

He sighs, contemplating. “Well… it’s been a while.” He gets his fair share of lays, when he goes out to bars with friends or the rare date, but nothing too drastic. It has been a few months. “But you didn’t hear that from me, understood? Now, let’s drop it.”

But you don’t drop it, you brat. “You’re like the born again 40-year-old virgin,” you tease smoothly.

“Try 51, honey,” he grunts out, depositing your dry wipes at the disposal across you. He turns back around, restrained.

“And what, you don’t wanna change that?” No, he thinks—what he wants is to take you over the counter ’til you’re sobbing and sore.

“Hey now, don’t think I don’t think about it sometimes. But I jus’—I don't wanna get involved with no one, even though... Hell, if I met the right person, I might just change my mind. Ain’t that the way it goes?”

“That’s such an antiquated view of sex,” you quip boldly, pressing your arms to your sides. “What happened to just having one good fuck?”

His eyes flicker down then up. “Well, hey. Slow down with the cursin’, sweetheart. And what in the hell makes you think I don’t do that?” He crosses his arms, offering a raised eyebrow and an insufferably smug smile.

“You didn’t necessarily object when I called you a twice-over virgin.”

He chuckles. “There’s more than one way to let it all out, my girl. You don’t have to just go all in to hit the spot.” The thought of him using his own—or some girl’s, actually, hand, throat… to get off, gets you all hot. You want to be that girl. His girl.

“Like how?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Old man like myself probably can’t offer tricks you’ll find… useful.” He grunts, prepares to go upstairs. He reaches over you for the packet of wipes and your proximity urges him to stop, savor the closeness before the rational part of him reminds him you’re his best mate’s daughter.

“Okay, fine,” you say sweetly, voice much quieter—reserved just for the space between you two. “One last, then.”

Mmm, he huffs affirmatively, greenlighting your request. Impatient.

“Since when did old men do that?” You ask, inquisitive, placing emphasis on his self-proclaimed old man title.

“What? Entertain l’il minxes like yourself?” He responds, intending to break your newly-built façade of smugness.

“No,” you respond coolly. “Pack nine inches.” Then you’re clambering off the counter and walking to the stairs. He inhales sharply at the sudden vulgarity of your words, watches every move, every little bounce of your pert ass under the tiny shorts, the wave of your hair, every flex of the ridden-up lace thong against your back.

You turn briefly. “Coming or what?” And then you slip upstairs.

He hears the pad of your footsteps grow quiet and shuts his eyes, letting his composure waver in your absence.

Had he known Harold’s little girl would turn out to be the world’s biggest fucking tease—Jesus Christ. “Lord,” he rasps under his breath, repeating a mantra, holding back the urge to palm himself through his jeans. “Lord, have mercy.” Then he follows you, already spotting something different—the open door at the end of the hall.

His open door. It’s the one that directly mirrors your parents’, a revelation they all had a good laugh at. Sometimes if a matter was so pressing, a well-aimed pebble to the glass window would get Joel’s attention well enough. The lights are flicked on, cool-warm, in his bedroom. You’re in his bedroom.

Or you’re not. He walks in to find no trace of you, save for the scuffed white sneakers by the doorframe. He toes off his own boots and spots the walk-in closet light’s also been flicked on.

“Christ, you’re quick. You’re s’posed to be in the guest room.” He gestures vaguely to the one on the left side of the hall, even if you can’t see him.

“I had to pee. And I needed something to sleep in,” you say politely from inside. He grunts softly to himself at the thought of you undressing in there, the thought of you pulling on something of his.

“Get out of there,” he orders. “I’ll get you somethin’.” Under his breath he mutters, “S’my goddamn closet.”

You chirp okay but he adds anyway: “Hurry, out.”

So you do follow him, even follow the order to hurry, because you’re hasty in your exit, clutching the cowboy hat to your chest. “Sit.” He points to the bed, watches you set the hat next to yourself gingerly. And one last time he asks the Lord for mercy, quietly and in his head, before shutting off every other rational thought that had stopped him tonight.

You follow suit, hat still clutched to your torso, and he slowly comes to stand just in front of you, your face level with the buckle of his leather belt. When you shift he catches sight of the side of your bra, the lace of it. Eyes cast to your bare thighs, you pipe up.

“By the way, Mr. Miller—Joel, I didn’t mean to say any of—I mean, I thought we could talk comfortably about it… that… stuff, but I took it too f—”

“You’re damn fuckin’ right you took it too far.”

He spits it out roughly, harshly. Like he’s scolding you. A zip of shock goes through you—you hadn’t heard him swear so loud before. Maybe he is. “I give you a free ride home at half past one, give you water, give you a place to sleep for the night knowin’ damn well your momma n’ dad would both have killed ya if you stepped foot in that house wearin’ next to nothing. What do I get in return?” He looks down at you, two rough fingers jerking your chin to look up at him.

“I—” you squeak, your voice and confidence betraying you. You’ve soaked through your panties at his sudden switch in behavior. Like you’d broken a dam.

“I get a brat… whorin’ herself out to me like I’m not over twice her age.” He tuts, like he really is disappointed, and your heart almost drops. “I get all these damn questions about sex, like you think I’ll break and fuck you on my kitchen counter.” He was considering it. “All the teasin’, all the skirtin’ around in a thong and a fuckin’…” He shakes your chin. “S’there even anythin’ in that head of yours, honey?”

Your mouth’d been open. You shut it and lick over your lips. “Yeah,” you defend weakly. His hand lowers to stroke at the column of your throat, then to hook under the tight strap of your bra, peeking out under the white of your top. He sidles it back and forth.

“S’this why you asked me all those dumb questions downstairs, huh, sweetheart? ‘Cause you wanted me to pull your top open and fawn over this”—he yanks the hat away, revealing your torso underneath—“little show o’yours?” Your cleavage is sinful, downright—perfect, perky, inviting him to mouth at your tits. Your sash sits prettily above them and he can’t help but pull at it, too, jolting you toward him.

“N—” you inhale sharply, letting him pull and push you around as he pleases. He observes the blinding glittery writing on the pink material and lets out a humorless, self-satisfied huff of laughter.

“Number… one… girl.” His rough thumb grazes over the divots of the rhinestones. “That’s jus’ about right, ain’t it?”

“Yes,” you reply, voice small.

“I’m not sure I agree, baby girl,” he drawls. His touch is precise—he knows exactly where to go, what he’s doing—but rough, dirty, almost, and the huge size of his hands don’t help to support otherwise. He tugs down your tank top so it’s tucked underneath your bra, and you yelp, making a move to cover yourself. He laughs again—“Sure, go all shy on me like you haven’t been showin’ yourself off to me all night. Knees.”

You get off quick, so quick you’re dizzy when you steady yourself on two knees. Two lithe hands make their way to his belt but he steps backward, revels in your evident confusion, clumsiness, the flush high on your cheekbones. “Buckle down, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“No goddamn buts. Listen to me.” He ends up being the one to make work of his belt, and while he talks you have to bite your lip to keep from going slack-jawed at the sight of him. You’d been kidding about the nine inches thing, but Christ he’s huge, strained against the tight denim. He’s thick even under the layers of clothing, and all you want to do is choke on him. “You’re gonna let me use that mouth t’get off, first thing,” he grunts, like this is all some chore to him, “because I am not goin’ to put my cock in my best mate’s daughter.”

“How about,” you croak lightly, “your fingers, then?”

“Jesu—we’ll see.” He tugs his cock out then, and he’s fucking huge, he really is, his tip angry and flushed and being rubbed along your lips, sticking them up with his precum. He sighs contentedly, humming low, the vibration sent straight to your half-open mouth. You suck on the tip of him, watch a slow smile form on his face. “That sash oughta say somethin’ else.”

Your silence grants elaboration. “Number one slut, maybe.” You shift on your thighs, trying to hide how aroused you are at his mean behavior. But he can tell, he can watch the way your blinking slows, the way your eyes glazed over, glassy and teary from trying to take more of him. He doesn’t tell you to slow down, or go faster; he just watches, eyebrows knitted, focused. “Budge up.”

A hand, big and calloused, threads through your hair and gives a tug, goading your mouth open so more of his cock slips past. Your jaw aches from the attempt alone, so you pull off before you start choking too much, tonguing at the parts of him you can’t reach—lower, until you’re laving at his balls. He grunts, pleasured, simmered down. Attagirl. Then you’re back, bobbing up and down, trying despite yourself to take all of him, until your eyes are watery and you’re spluttering, choked.

“Now this is…” He says, and it comes out in a contented little sigh, “a number one throat. Keep those pretty lips open, honey, ‘m gonna fuck them.”

You do, your achy jaw slacked as he begins bucking into your mouth, the sounds of your choking only spurring him on. He’s dominant, taking and taking, and you’re humiliated to find how wet you are, soaked through the lace of your thong and darkening the denim of your shorts. The tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat only gets him to thrust even faster, watching tears fall from your eyes, streaky with mascara. His best friend’s daughter, taking dick like a fucking champ.

He thrusts harder, each sound emitting a nasty, incoherent noise out of you, choked little gasps that have him harder each time. Gonna fuck this throat raw, he mutters. Since that’s what you wan’ed, ain’t it? You reach up, light fingers massaging his balls, and then his hips stutter, and with barely any warning, you feel his hot seed shoot into your throat, little satisfied groans leaving the man above you.

You swallow what you can, limited by his dick still in your mouth. When he pulls out you lap at the cum left behind, circle your tongue around your lips, make a whole show of it. You speak again, your voice raspy and spent: “Please, my turn?”

He lifts you up and smirks at the way you yelp in surprise, tossing you onto the bed and pulling you back onto your knees, your back to his chest. He wrangles your shorts off, gives your ass a smack as he pulls them down, enough to expose what’s underneath. The stiff material gathers just above your bent knees, restraining you from moving much.

“D’you know what,” he says, still sounding angry—like he’s lecturing you, stern, “I could’ve been in bed, wakin’ up at six to work… instead I gotta teach this little brat a fuckin’ lesson. Your old man not teach y’enough manners?” He tugs your bra down, thumbs roughly at your pebbled nipples, wrenching a moan out of you. He’s hard again, dick poking into your ass, and fuck you want him in you.

“He didn’t,” you sniffle, pitiful. “Y’gotta teach me, Daddy.”

“Oh, she likes that, don’t she?” He grumbles, like the title is annoying, juvenile. The way his cock twitches tells you otherwise. “Shut up, baby honey. I got this.” He reaches up your thighs and the ticklish, pleasurable sensation gets you hot.

Joel, you whimper, seizing in on yourself. He grabs your other arm, pulls it back toward him so you remain open and pliant. Please, wait.

“No time for waitin’, not when you spend hours prancin’ around like a little whore, sweetheart.” Without preamble, he’s running his fingers up your thighs again, not stopping this time until his fingers are pressing into your clit, rubbing over the thin, soaked fabric of your panties. “And you’re so fucking wet for me. My number one girl, ain’t you?”

“Yea,” you babble dumbly. “Your number one girl.”

“Thaaat’s right. My girl needs her needy cunt filled up, don’t she? By Daddy’s fat fingers.” You nod along, drawn in by the vulgarity of his words, the way he spits them out. You’ve spent several nights fantasizing how his big, rough hands would feel on you—and you’ve been outproven. He’s so fast, so skilled with his fingers; they feel delicious in you. And you can’t stop thinking about all of those girls he implied he’s slept with, the way they probably got to this first. Lucky bitches.

He’s gotten you so wet the entire night, even moreso now, that your pussy is making obscene squelching noises with each pump of his fingers, these nastily loud noises that humiliate you, that turn you on even more, that make you drip all onto Joel’s linen sheets. Fuck, you whimper. He swats at your ass. No swearing, he’s saying.

“Look up for me, honey. Up at the window.” Outside, the sun’s beginning to crawl over Austin, just the faint blues and yellows of early morning. You realize you know this because his curtain’s been pulled open—by him, earlier, before any of this even started, you assume. And the only other thing you can see other than the sky and the sliver of the neighborhood is your parents’ window.

“No,” you plead, looking down. He doesn’t let you, tugs you back up to look by your hair. He knows your parents won’t be up ’til seven-thirty latest. But you don’t know that, and for now, you don’t have to.

“What then, huh, sweetheart? When they go to check on the weather n’ they see their best friend poundin’ their young daughter? What’d they think?” You jerk away, overcome with pleasure and embarrassment at the imaginary situation. You feel his fingers pump in and out of you, filling you up. They’re probably thick and hot, glistening each time they come out. You’re tightening up; you’ll cum soon, make a mess on his hand, which already drips with slick. “So you better hurry. Better make a mess on me soon.”

“I am, I’m—I’m gonna,” you moan. You’re wrapped up in the way his fingers play you just the right way. You’re so close to the surface, and you’ve been wanting this for way too long, so you nod, let yourself get carried away by his words, let yourself give in, spreading your legs as wide as they can go as he fingerfucks you, working out the tension that’s been building up for forever.

“That’s my number one girl,” he grins into your neck, and you’re convulsing release onto his hand, wetting it even further. He wraps a hand around your waist, keeps you close to his figure, his erection at the small of your back. “That’s it, honey. Did so well for me.”

“I want it,” you say meekly. “Even if they see.”

He groans. “Sweetheart, you must think real low of me to believe I’d put my cock anywhere near Harold’s daughter’s pussy.”

You tug your panties fully down, just enough so they fall off on their own the rest of the way, and guide his slick hand behind yourself, pressing his finger first into your folds again, sensitive, and then up toward your tighter hole.

You feel his breath tighten behind you when you say: “How ‘bout there?”

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro pascal x reader #tlou smut

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01zfan · 3 months

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argue with you | s. es

valedictorian!eunseok x debate team leader!reader | 6.6k words

a request that i really enjoyed writing. part two here!

contains: academic rivals, semi public shenanigans, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving.)

you loved debate. you joined it because it was a mix of two things you loved in life, arguing with people and winning. you were grateful that you were able to get close with the people on the debate team too, finding kids your age with such interesting minds. you loved everyone on your debate team and they loved you, so it was no surprise when you were unanimously voted the leader of the debate team. life was perfect on the debate team.

until eunseok joined.

it was a normal day after school, following your friends as you walked in a group to the debate practice room.

“our sponsor said someone new is joining the team.” giselle said to your group.

“this late?” wonbin asked.

“technically the season has barely started. we are still prepping for tournaments.” yunjin said.

your crew was behind you as you opened the door to the debate room. you looked back at them, not expecting anyone to be in the room yet.

“yeah but still. unless he has previous knowledge about debate he will just drag the rest of us down.” you said.

the shocked expression on yunjin’s face told you everything you needed to know. eunseok sat at one of the tables, hearing everything you said about him.

you didn’t hate eunseok when he first joined. you actually felt pretty bad for making such a terrible first impression. eunseok was also projected to be the valedictorian, you could never bring yourself to hate someone who was so smart. you immediately apologized, saying you didn’t know he was in the room but he said nothing in response. eunseok being indifferent towards you was a first. many gravitated towards you or spoke about you in high regard. being liked came easily for you, so the fact that eunseok couldn’t be bothered irked you to no end.

you were surprised you had never crossed paths with eunseok before. you never had him in any of your classes despite both of you being enrolled in the same curriculum. you didn’t know him, your social circles didn’t collide either. he had joined the debate team late in the semester, wanting a final thing to put on his college applications. you thought it was ridiculous. he was already top of his class what more did he need?

because eunseok joined the debate team with such high markings he came with an attitude you didn’t like. he was careless, didn’t take notes and always debated in the affirmative. he was novice at best, always trying to take you on in policy debates. at first it was easy to crush him, pointing out his ad populum fallacies and taking advantage of his lack of knowledge. he had it coming, challenging the best debater on the team. he refused to study so you threw the book at him each time, winning your debates with ease. people on your team always watched the arguments. they were ooo’ing and ah’ing as you two fought it out.

you couldn’t help but get even more upset at eunseok remaining nonchalant through every debate. even if he got hit with a penalty or his argument was rebutted he’d let it wash off him like rain, shrugging his shoulders before moving to the next topic. you wanted to best him, you wanted to see him break a sweat.

to your disliking he quickly improved. it was unfair, someone so uninvolved with debate coming in and learning everything with ease. it wasn’t long before he had you struggling to counter his arguments. when he first argued with you in a negative it filled you with rage. how did he get so good? it didn’t help that he swayed the lay judges, his confidence when speaking made the average person who didn’t know about policies believe that eunseok had the answers. his attitude didn’t just win over the lay judges, but also your team. he won them over quickly, they thought he was charismatic and funny.

it wasn’t long until he was voted to be the co-leader of the team and your individual events turned to public forum debates with eunseok as your partner.

“looks like we are going to be getting real close.” eunseok said, looking at your names side by side on the competition sheet.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. you believe the debate gods had it out for you. everyone else on debate said that you two were the dream team and your probability of winning was high. your probability to win alone was higher, and eunseok would just drag you down.

“just don’t get in my way, eunseok.” you said.

you looked up at the man with the most hate you could muster in your body. you almost felt bad when you saw sadness wash across his face, but it was quickly replaced with his same nonchalant expression. he shrugged his shoulders and put his hand on your tense ones. you got indignant from his touch but he smirked.

“we will do well.” eunseok said simply.

no matter how much you hated to admit it, you two did make a good team. his confidence and talent for public speaking combined with your arguments you two were unbeatable. it wasn’t long before you took your team to nationals for the first time in your school’s history. it was becoming harder and harder to hate eunseok. it turned into a mild disliking that formed because of a misunderstanding. you were determined to keep up appearances, rolling your eyes when he would be mentioned or when he’d put his arm on your shoulder and call you ‘partner’.

you started to think eunseok liked trying to piss you off. he would always be in your personal space, walking behind you through crowds of people, saying your name constantly, always having that teasing tone to his voice. he was also always stuck to you, following you everywhere especially at debate tournaments. he sat next to you on the bus, lifting up your headphones to talk to you directly in your ear.

“we’re here.” he said.

you snatched your headphones away from him and gave him your best glare. eunseok developed the nasty habit being annoying just to get a rise out of you. some of the only times you’d see him break the calm demeanor he had debating was when he’d smile after telling you a bad joke or stepping on the backs of your shoes. each time you rolled his eyes and he would place his hands on your shoulders. it seemed like his favorite place to be sometimes, shaking you lightly as you shrugged him off.

you get up from the front seat of the bus. your team progressively woke up from their naps. the drive was about an hour and a half. you saw your team yawn and stretch, looking for their things in the seat. you stretch too, turning around getting ready to read the itenerary and the list for debates today.

“everyone pay attention.” eunseok said from his seat beside you.

no one told eunseok to sit next to you on the bus. you assumed it became an unspoken rule, the leader and co-leader sitting side by side. you considered this to be a plus as well, just in case you wanted to go over anything with eunseok before the tournament. you two rarely spoke on the bus ride to competitions though. it would always be a surprisingly not awkward silence.

eunseok didn’t have to raise his voice to get everyone to listen to him. you envied that about him, his ability to command a room. all eyes are on you as you clear your throat.

“okay everyone. first and foremost, happy debate day.” you say smiling

“happy debate day!” everyone says back it back to you in unison.

everyone cheers and you look at the clipboard with the debate assignments.

“okay so for our IE’s we have giselle, yeji, and anton.”

eunseok watches you read off their names like a teacher doing roll call. giselle, yeji, and anton all give you a nod after hearing their name to show they heard you. eunseok watched as you went down the list of names on the paper, quickly scanning for to see who would be debating. eunseok lingered on your furrowed eyebrow for a split second before brushing a piece of hair out of his face.

“for our policy debates we have our freshmen duos eunchae bahiyyih and kyujin jiwoo. this is their first national competition ever.” you exclaim and so does the rest of the bus. everyone cheers for the four girls, sinking in their backseats giggling.

“it’s a busy day for all of us but if you can please sit in on their debate to silently cheer them on.” you emphasis silently to look at eunseok.

he shrugs his shoulders and the bus giggles. how was he supposed to know he wasn’t allowed to clap after a good argument?

“we have yunjin running as support so don’t be afraid to run your notes by her, especially our IE’s.” you say, pointing your hand towards yunjin.

yunjin raises her hand from her seat in the middle to show everyone where she is. you rack your mind trying to think what other operational things you can say. you tap tap the clipboard against your hand, trying to see if the sound can rattle your mind enough to remember other things.

“don’t be afraid to approach the senior members of the team if you need help. also please travel in pairs if you’re going to the restroom. lunch is at 12:30 in the cafeteria. we will also get our room assignments for the hotel tonight so please be don’t skip it. oh, and our sponsor and chaperones are here too, they just arrived a little earlier to set up. everyone has their numbers right?” you ask.

everyone on the bus gives you the affirmative. you set your clipboard down at your side, almost done with your piece.

“this is our first nationals our school has ever been to so lets have fun and let’s win.”

you say your final line expecting cheers. everyone on the bus smiles or looks at you expectantly waiting to say something.

you’re about to ask what’s wrong until you see eunchae’s hand in the back row seat raise. you look to her and you can see several people holding back laughs. you look to your side and see eunseok’s shameless toothy grin.

“eunchae what’s up?” you ask.

you hear little concealed laughs. eunchae does her best at hiding a smile from her face.

“who’s doing the public forum debate?” eunchae asks.

her four friends all laugh and you can feel your face getting hot. you clear your throat, trying to show you’re unbothered.

“oh. for our public forum debate it’s eunseok and i.” you say.

you don’t know why you sound bashful, or why eunseok looks down with a smile on his face. you try to say not funny but your voice is drowned out when the bus erupts in ooh la la’s and almost paradise’s. you hide behind your clipboard and eunseok takes the lead, standing up beside you.

“don’t worry about us. we got this win, right partner?” eunseok asks.

you shrug him off again as people file off the bus, taking their name badges from you. when it’s just you and eunseok left you nearly push him back down in the seat with the amount of force you put behind giving him his name tag. eunseok takes the tag silently and he moves backwards further into the bus so you can get off first.

“don’t feed into it, please.” you say.

your eyes are trained on the clipboard, rereading names and debate times over and over again. eunseok walks behind you closely, like a mother watching her child walk through a parking lot. he picks up his speed so he can stand beside you. eunseok contemplates something, his normal pace of walking falters for only a second. he then speeds past you, joining the rest of the team as they enter the school building. you follow behind them, confused as to why your heart dropped when eunseok didn’t try to crack a joke at your expense.

you watched him all day. your debate didn’t start until after lunch, so you served as a mentor for the other events happening before you. you gave the freshmen tips on what to say during a debate, knowing your arguments strengths and weaknesses to make your arguments more solid. they gathered in your information with open ears, running things they were going to say by you just to double check the validity of their arguments. you watched eunchae nod her head enthusiastically as she made notes in the margins of her clipboard.

when you were done talking to them, you could see those same people going to eunseok. you wondered what they were talking about, until you saw eunseok show them posture and how to give facial expressions to help sway the lay men. in the middle of eunseok showing bahiyyih how to calm her nerves he looked up and locked eyes with you. any other time you would’ve rolled your eyes at eunseok, continuing with whatever you were saying. but this time you found yourself being cut off mid-sentence, suddenly looking down with a smile on your face.

because of your free schedule, you were able to go to almost all of the events your team was involved in. it started with the freshmen girls, kyujin and jiwoo went first. they did well, taking your advice on the notes you gave them. you watched them give good rejection speeches to the policy proposed by the other team. you knew the kyujin and jiwoo would do well, they both had siblings who were involved in debate. so when they won it didn’t come as a surprise. you gave them a big thumbs up from the back of the room and the at the pair smiled at you. when you got up to congratulate them, you saw that eunseok was sitting in the front of the debate hall. he must have been there for the whole thing.

you don’t know why it surprised you. eunseok was only competing in one event like you were, so he had all day free too. it just seemed like it was out of his character to sit in and cheer for another team, especially since you had asked the debate team to stop by if they could. you don’t know if it surprised you more that eunseok was listening attentively or that he came to the back of the lecture hall and sat by you while they got ready for eunchae and bahiyyih’s debate.

“don’t be nervous. they got this,” eunseok said. “they have a good teacher.”

you turned to look at him but he wasn’t looking at you. eunseok’s eyes were trained on the stage while volunteers set up the tables for the next debate. you smile and lean back in the seat.

“you get it.” you say smugly.

you can practically hear eunseok roll his eyes at you. he laughs lightly and you smile too. you don’t know you smile, or why teasing eunseok makes you feel a little sheepish. you’re grateful that a few people come from your team and sit by the two of you. you can only watch the first half of the debate before you and eunseok have to leave for your public forum debate.

the team wishes you luck and you ask them to stay to cheer on eunchae and bahiyyih. they listen to you, saying they’ll join in the later half if possible. you nod and leave, eunseok following behind you closely. to exit the lecture hall you had to climb a few stairs. you tried to ignore eunseok’s presence behind you, his hand ghosting the small of your back ready to catch you if you fall.

“i got it.” you said.

your words didn’t have the usual bite they had. you sounded shy if anything. eunseok tsked behind you, his hand falling back slightly but still there.

“okay princess.” he says mockingly.

the nickname is what causes you to almost trip over the steps as you exit the hall.

the trek to the debate hall is a quiet one. the silence wasn’t awkward, sometimes you preferred that so you could collect your thoughts before a debate. eunseok was the opposite—usually the chatty type. eunseok would be talking about random things not even pertaining to the debate and he would be pestering you with questions. it did help sometimes, easing the stress you felt. but this competition was important, so you wanted to lock in and focus.

eunseok watched you pace back and forth in the hallway. you would occasionally mumble something to yourself, probably some talking point you wanted to drill into your mind. eunseok reviewed all his notes the night before and on the bus ride while you slept. looking at his notes the day before helped him more than your method. he enjoyed watching you, though. the way you walked back and forth with your furrowed eyebrows, practicing your expressions. it was like eunseok was able to get a peak into your inner thoughts and the way your mind worked. over the course of the preseason he was able to learn some of your ticks as well. he saw you take your bottom lip between two fingers, a telltale sign that. you were nervous.

eunseok cleared his throat, reminding you that he was there. you looked at him with a little bit of softness, waiting for him to say something. he loved when you looked at him with a little tenderness. eunseok would never admit he liked debating with you so much because in these moments he got to see you be a little bit vulnerable. the anxiety before a debate wore down your iron resolve just a little and eunseok basked in it.

“are you ready?” eunseok asked.

“i’m a little nervous. this determines if we advance in the season.” you said.

eunseok nodded his head knowingly. he didn’t want to make a big deal out of comforting you, afraid that if he was too comforting the soft look in your eyes would disappear.

“we got this. all preseason you crushed it.” eunseok said.

“could i have even done it without you?” you said.

eunseok was taken aback by your words. you were never the type to vocalizes insecurity, especially when it came to debate. eunseok couldn’t stop his hand from going to your shoulder. your eyes grew wide before you got ahold of your expression, trying to seem as calm as possible.

“you absolutely destroy everyone in the district in independent events. i’m sure they have you in public forum so you can have more variety on your resume.” eunseok said.

eunseok watched the lightbulb go off in your head.

“i had never considered that.” you said queitly.

eunseok shrugged and took his hand off your shoulder, despite his mind begging him to keep it there. he put his hands in his pockets to ball his fists up.

“we got this. you are super smart and knowledgable about the topic.” eunseok says, face feeling hot.

before you can thank him, the assistant moderator comes outside. she motions you two into the debate hall.

the debate goes by smoothly. eunseok is the best at delivering opening statements. his tone and body language helps accurately portray what you want the audience and laymen understand. his opening statements also give you time to collect your thoughts, calming any anxiety you may have. although you were opposed to sharing the debate floor with someone, eunseok really does help calm you down. you find yourself leaning on him during some parts of the debate, and it’s comforting to see him lean on you too. you both truly do make an excellent team, coming together for the common purpose of winning.

there’s some sort of tension that begins to build during the end of the debate. after refuting an inaccuracy in the opposing teams argument, you find yourself looking to eunseok so he can give you a look that says “good job”. you even let him challenge a claim and watching him proudly as he calls out a fallacy you would call him out for during practice. eunseok smiles each time you smile at him.

when you two are announced as winners eunseok pulls you into a hug. the relief from winning the first competition of the season has you hugging him back. when you two pull away it’s a little awkward. eunseok helps put the medal on your head and you helps him too.

you two leave the debate hall to your team waiting to congratulate you. they say they didn’t doubt you would win, and you smile at all of them. you smile extra hard at eunseok and the way he praises you in front of your whole team. you take a picture together, biting your medals like it’s made of real gold. you feel eunseok’s hand rest on the small of your back while taking the photo, and you let him wrap an arm. around you waist as you two hold up your pointer finger.

if anyone in your team noticed the tension they say nothing. but you can feel it growing between the two of you. you both sit at a table helping the rest of the team with their events before lunch when giselle comes up to you.

she asks for a spare clipboard, folders, and to bring the papers the printed from the copy machine. going into the storage room is something that only leaders of the team are allowed to do. it helps prevent overcrowding or people going into the storage room that aren’t supposed to. giselle also needs to go over everything with yunjin, running to grab supplies would just take away from her precious prep time.

“i’ll go with you,” eunseok says. “just in case you have trouble reaching something.”

in any other instance you would’ve given him your signature scowl and ignore him. you don’t know you laugh at the comment, no one at your table does. they look at you like you’ve grown an extra head, cracking a smile at one of eunseok’s terrible jokes. you get ahold of yourself and start walking away, letting him follow you.

eunseok follows behind you, reeling off the fact he made you laugh. the silence you two had was a little awkward now, and you silently curse yourself for laughing.

inside of the storage room is cramped to say the least. the archaic printer takes up a majority of the space, and an even older wooden table sits in front of it. you wait for the million papers giselle printed out in complete silence. eunseok’s height actually was useful, grabbing the folders and clipboard on the very top shelf.

“good job today.” eunseok says.

you look at him only for a split second before going back to looking at the papers come from the printer.

“you too, eunseok. you’re really good at pointing out fallacies now.” you say.

“well that’s all thanks to you.” eunseok says.

it’s so cramped in the storage room he hits something as he brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. you smile and shake your head.

“no that’s all you. you’re a fast learner.” you say.

“only because you pushed me to be.” eunseok laughs. “i know you hate me for joining so late and you think i don’t care about debate but i worked really hard to be good at it because of you.”

eunseok doesn’t know why he’s rambling off at the mouth going crazy with praising you. he finally gets you to look at him from the printer though. you have that same soft look you had outside of the debate hall.

“i don’t hate you, eunseok.” you protest. “i thought you hated me because of what i said when you first joined.”

eunseok shakes his head and laughs a little

“i was never mad about that. i understood where you were coming from completely.”

the printer finishes its job while you and eunseok look at eachother. you can’t believe you spent this whole time thinking he hated you while it was all a misunderstanding. you feel embarrassed now, after all the times you were mean to him for no reason.

“i’m sorry.” you say sincerely.

“me too.” eunseok says back.

you two are silent and you go back to looking at the copy machine. eunseok clears his throat and you look at him. his expression had changed from a sorry one to a smirk. he leans against the large table and crosses his arms.

“you know, this whole time i thought you were being mean. but was it just flirting?” eunseok says.

you visibly stiffen at his comment. you turn to him wide eyed and in shock, eunseok looks at you with his mouth slightly open, proud of the reaction he’s able to pull from you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say, still wide eyed.

eunseok slowly closes the space between the two of you. you suddenly are very aware of everything about him. the way he looks down at you. his hands, his mouth, his eyes. he’s so close to you it leaves nothing to imagination.

“it’s okay. do you know why i joined the debate team?” eunseok says.

he’s right in front of you now, and you can smell his cologne. you never realized how tall he was as he looked down at you. you shook your head, trying to find your voice. eunseok cocks an eyebrow and you clear your throat.

“for college applications?” you say meekly.

eunseok shakes his head.

“why would i need anything else on my college application?” eunseok asks.

“i don’t know.” you said.

“i actually joined because of this girl on the team i wanted to get to know better. so unfortunate i didn’t have a single class with her after all these years.” eunseok says.

you sit there and stare at eunseok. he just confessed to joining the team solely to get to know you better. now all the doting and teasing makes sense, but you still can’t believe it.

you’re in disbelief still when eunseok puts his hand underneath your chin to tip your head upwards. you are in disbelief when eunseok puts his lips on yours. you don’t know what comes over you when you pull at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. you suddenly can’t get enough of him, you want him all over you. you want to hear him praise you a million times over. you want to hear him call you a princess again. you stick your tongue into his mouth and he does the same to you.

both of your minds and bodies operate at a million miles a minute, focused solely on feeling everything. eunseok pulls you in closer, arching his body over yours. it feels like he’s going to swallow you whole the way he towers over your frame. you feel like your set on fire when eunseok’s hand goes to your ass and you jump up. he catches you with ease.

your body’s bump into almost every structure in the storage closet. you can feel your back press against the large printer and you can hear it being bumped into as eunseok turns you around. his hand leaves your body for only a second while he clears things off of the table. you hear clipboards, papers, and other office supplies hit the ground as eunseok sets you on top of the table gently.

eunseok pulls away from your lips. he looks at you and you look at him. for just a second it is completely silent in the storage room as you two stare at one another. you see out of the corner of your eye eunseok’s chest is heaving. you both give the other a chance to leave, a chance to profusely apologize for kissing. you stay on top of the table and look at eunseok’s pouting lips, hoping he gets the hint.

eunseok brings you in again with his hand underneath your chin leading you. it is softer than the first time, eunseok looking at your lips before they connect. he instantly deepens the kiss and you guys fight for a second trying to decide who gets to lead the other. you relinquish control to eunseok when you can feel him mess with the waistband of your pants. you let him undo the belt and the buttons. you do the same to him, using your shaking hands to pull down the zipper of his dress pants.

eunseok’s slacks drop to his ankles the same time he puts his hand underneath the waistband of your panties. eunseok uses his free hand to pull you closer to the edge of the table, for better access to you. eunseok wastes no time and you don’t either, not even bothering to pull down his boxers. you both put your hands to eachother at the same time, gasping into the kiss. eunseok pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. his mouth is still slightly open and so is yours, letting out long sighs as you guys slowly figure out what the other wants. eunseok teases your folds and you wrap your hands around his twitching dick. you both give one more look, this is your last chance to pull back from him. eunseok sticks a finger in you and you start slowly stroking him. eunseok looks away from you first, muttering a curse word as he puts his face in the crook of your neck. he presses his lips to your neck and suddenly you want him to leave a mark.

you turn your head to face his as you pick up the speed of your hand. everything is rushed and you want to go as far as you can before the severity of the situation hits you. eunseok must feel the same way because he puts another finger inside of you.

“you smell so good.” eunseok says.

he still stays in the crook of your neck and other hand has moved to your back. eunseok’s hand on your back alternates between moving up and down, pulling you closer to him, and grasping at your clothes like he can’t decide how he wants to hold you. you just let out a tiny sigh in response to him, scared to speak. if you say something it might snap eunseok out of whatever trance he’s in right now, and you are selfishly enjoying the way he bends his fingers inside of you.

“you’re so pretty.” eunseok says.

eunseok’s compliment was so quiet you truly don’t think you were meant to hear it. you convince yourself that he is just saying things in the heat of the moment. you don’t say anything back to eunseok, just pick up the pace of your hand.

you can hear the table shake and slightly give underneath your weight. the creaking sound of the table mixes with the sloppy sounds of eunseok’s fingers inside of you and the wet sound of you jerking eunseok. his precum makes the job easy, you can feel it coming from his tip and lubricating his shaft. his dick is thick and heavy in your hand. you stop the intrusive thought of wondering what his dick looks like inside of his boxers. you wonder if his dick is as hot as the sounds he’s trying to muffle in your neck. you never took him for the whiny type, his sighs and quiet moans coming out in a higher pitch. eunseok pulls himself away from your neck to look down between the two of you.

eunseok is enthralled by the sight. he has never seen anyone like you, he’s never felt anything like this. he would’ve never thought he’d be here, trying to coax pretty little moans from your throat using his fingers. he wants to show you how good he is at this, but the situation and the way you look at him makes his hands unsteady. he’s positive he’s missing your clit and failing to hit those spots deep inside of you. he wishes he could take your pants off to really get inside of you and to see it all. but for now eunseok settles for fighting against the fabric of your wet panties pressed to the back of his hand as he fingers you. when you bring your head into his chest and pick up the pace he becomes more confident, doing the same action over and over again until your quiet moans become more frequent. eunseok can’t hold back his smile when your free hand grips the bicep of the hand that’s inside of you, digging nails into his skin.

“keep going.” you say breathlessly.

eunseok doesn’t falter and seeing you experience pleasure heightens his own. he can feel himself getting harder in your hand.

“i’m close.” eunseok says.

“me too. please don’t stop.” you whine into his chest.

eunseok brings you even closer to the edge of the table and you clench around him. you’re so close that you prepare yourself to bury your head into his sweater vest so your moans can’t be heard outside.

“fuck. just like that.” eunseok says.

you keep up the pace of your hand. your nails dig deeper into eunseok’s skin. his hold on your lower back tighten.

you still have eunseok in your hand and he still has his fingers inside of you when the alarm on your phone goes off. the sudden blaring sound rips you both out of your reverie, and eunseok nearly jumps away from you.

you and eunseok stay like that for only a moment. something in the air of the storage room shifts almost immediately as you both start comprehending the situation. both of your eyes widen as you look up at him and he looks down at you.

eunseok suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and you take your hand out of his boxers. your shaking hands bring the zipper of your pants up, and you can hear eunseok fumble with his slacks as he brings them back up to his waist. he moves in such a rush that he stumbles backwards, bumping into the copy machine. in any other situation you would’ve been laughing at him for being so clumsy. but now you have a mission of getting out as soon as possible, your face heating up unbelievably fast.

when your pants are on you hop off the table and grab your phone to turn off the alarm. you see several messages and calls from people on the debate team asking where you are and congratulations on your win.

“i have to go now before lunch starts.” you say.

“yeah.” eunseok says.

“i’ll see you there.” you say after a long pause.

“yeah.” eunseok says.

neither of you look at the other as your faces get even hotter. eunseok messes with his belt over and over again. you dust off your pants and adjust your clothes a million times. the tension in the closest is thick, you think you may choke on it if you don’t leave soon. you focus on everything but eunseok. you’re sure you look disheveled but it is the least of your worries. you can pop into a bathroom before heading to lunch.

you leave eunseok in the storage closet alone without looking back. the whole way to the bathroom you are looking behind you, making sure no one saw you go in there.

eunseok doesn’t leave the storage room for another five minutes after you leave. the moment you closed the door behind you eunseok crouched down the floor trying to. figure out what the hell just happened. he was still throbbing in his pants and his fingers smelled like your heat. he was so incredibly confused and out of breath he had to spend time to regain his bearings. he set up his phone to fix his mussed hair and ruffled slacks. he cleans up the storage room too, grabbing the supplies giselle had asked for.

eunseok for some reason expected you to be outside of the storage room waiting for him. he swallowed what felt like a lump in his throat as he started making his way towards the cafeteria.

you try to eat the sandwiches brought to you by the chaperones but you are too focused on what situation you were in not even ten minutes ago. you could only manage to take a few bites before you realized you’re not hungry. you let the people at your table pick off of your food like vultures.

you don’t even dare to try and look at eunseok from across the room. after coming from the bathroom he was already there, he must have came straight there after leaving the storage room.

your hand is still sticky from him and every time you move you get the faintest smell of eunseok. you can feel his scent all over you, lingering and ominous like a storm cloud. you pray no one else can see how flustered you are.

after lunch is over the team still remains to get room assignments. you are so checked out mentally you don’t know what’s happening until you hear your group start protesting about the arrangement.

“why do they get their own rooms?” you hear eunchae ask.

“because they’re the captains and senior members of the team. also you guys signed up for these rooms.” the chaperone says.

you and eunseok are the only ones taking a solo room. something about an uneven number of boys and girls and it worked out in your favor. you need to be able to have a room to yourself so you can pace around and think about what happened in that storage room. you take your keycard and a spare just in case, sliding it in your wallet. everyone in your team floats to who their assigned with for tonight.

“we have few more debates for the day, but everyones schedule is clear for the independent events. let’s all support the three competing in that event.” you hear your sponsor say.

after eating, everyone in your teams throws away the trash and cleans the table, leaving the space cleaner than when you two arrived. you end up falling behind the rest of the group as they head towards the debate room. you’re double checking to make sure all the tables are clean and nothing was left behind when you see eunseok walking right towards you. you desperately try to look busy, wiping nonexistent crumbs off the tables. in your mind, if you don’t see eunseok he won’t see you. but he does see you, he always has.

eunseok comes up to you and you have no choice but to look at him. you get shy, focusing on the button up of his debate uniform. you are counting all the buttons on his shirt over and over again when you feel him slide something in the back pocket of your pants. you look up ti him with wide eyes, and his demeanor is calm.

“if you want to talk about what happened lights out is at 8:30. i’m in room 31.” eunseok says to you.

you don’t even get the chance to say anything to him. as soon as he’s done talking he’s gone, jogging to catch up with the rest of the debate team. you stand at the table frozen solid. when you reach to your back pocket you can feel the undeniable shape and feel of a plastic keycard.

it was going to be a long night.

#requestz #01zfan: eunseok #seriez: argue with you #riize smut #eunseok smut

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covington-shenanigans · 1 month

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so I'm on this app, Marco Polo, where you stay in touch with people by means of sending video messages. (there are probably other features, but I'm a free user, so I remain blissfully ignorant of them.) mostly I use it to annoy my sister. ("BITCH WHAT IF I GOT A PHALLOPLASTY AND HAD A BABY SHOWER FOR MY DICK. WE COULD HAVE ZUCCHINI FRITTERS. DICK-SHAPED PASTA. BANANAS FOSTER. DO U SEE MY VISION")

anyway, during the Hell Year of 2020, I saw my childhood best friend (let's call her Lee) was on this app. and like.

when I say "my childhood best friend", I mean the Weird Girl next door, who saw the Weird Girl that I was. I mean the girl I played with from age five until just shy of eleven, when my family moved away. I mean the girl I played with every day, for hours and hours, making up all kinds of elaborate scenarios involving our menagerie of stuffed animals. there were multiple overlapping, soap opera-style plotlines that lasted for years. there was drama. heartbreak. glory. she was the first friend I remember having. she was the first girl I ever loved, in my five-year-old way.

well, I hadn't seen Lee in at least 20 years and I was like, "holy shit! Lee!!!" so I sent her a "hey, nice to see you here, how you been" message.

again, this was late 2020.

now, I had been on T for a scant three months when I sent the first message, so I was a mere baby child, relative to the gruff manly man I am now. no beard, my voice had only started to wobble, still had tits... you get it. keep this in mind, it'll be important later.

I never heard back from her, but we're both Old, so I was like "eh, she probably forgot she installed the app" and forgot about it. we'd exchanged text messages at some point during the Hell Year, but like many people my age she doesn't really text, and I'm not calling anyone if I don't have to, so our communication had been sporadic, at best.

well. today I got a notification that she sent me a reply on Marco Polo.

I figured, well, she's replying to me 3.5 years late, but better late than never. I have ADHD and no friendship degradation mechanic, so I'm excited! yay! friend! :D

and then I remember. "...oh shit. she doesn't know I'm trans."

so. the thing is. I'm from Mississippi, which is. very very fucking conservative. I know Lee grew up Southern Baptist. I also know she's still living in the same town where we grew up and where she eventually graduated from high school and college. last I checked she was still attending the same Southern Baptist church where she grew up and her remaining living parent is still living in Lee's childhood home.

so this is either going to be Fine or it's going to be a disaster. lol.

in thinking it through, I figure either she's seen my updated profile pic, where I have the beard etc., or she hasn't. so either she's going to acknowledge this change or she isn't. okay. these are the possibilities. so I watch the message.

...the secret third option is... she seems to not realize when I sent the message? "sorry, I missed this when I was at work!" girl. what? I mean, you probably did miss it while you were at work... three and a half years ago. possibly she meant to reply to someone else and got me instead?

whatever. who knows. doesn't matter.

because I have the opportunity to do the funniest fucking thing in the world now

#covington-shenanigans gets personal #story time #marco polo #trans stuff #childhood friends #trans man #transmasc #trans men

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bratphilia · 6 months

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his bunny (w. afton x reader)

request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"

note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex

engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.

and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.

but he's never noticed you.

not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.

you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.

so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.

in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.

"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.

Thank you,

Professor Raglan"

any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.

professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.

the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.

over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.

steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.

he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.

your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.

and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.

steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.

he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."

you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.

"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"

god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."

he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."

you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"

your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"

he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."

if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.

you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"

"yes, professor," you answer.

"then get on your knees, slut."

he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.

"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."

"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.

you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.

you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.

"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.

he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.

before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.

you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."

you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.

"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.

"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.

he tsks. "such a slut."

steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.

he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."

you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."

"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."

with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.

the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.

before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.

steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.

"you did so well for me, sweetheart."

#fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #steve raglan #william afton #william afton x reader

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kookslastbutton · 10 months

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) II ch. II

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 5,044

Warnings: 8-year age gap, flashbacks of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, mentions of therapy, kookie trying to be a good husband, cute coupley stuff that idk anyone will like but 🥺 👉👈, jk says cawk , idk why this is a warning

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: Hi guys! I'm back! I thought I'd start off with a little flashback and then diving back into the story. Also, big thing–I decided not to make jk a complete butt. I don't want this story to be about "jk finally coming around after treating oc like garbage for wanting a kid". It's more of a we'll figure-it-out-together kinda thing though there will be bumps in the road. Anyway, enjoy 🥰

<< ch.I ༓ ch. III >> | series masterlist

To say falling in love with Jungkook was an effortless, butterflies-in-your-tummy, love-at-first-sight, you-know-it-when-you-see-it sort of affair is far from the truth. In actuality, you and Jungkook met on a very normal basis and had very normal rapport…well, somewhat normal.

Jungkook was your economics professor in grad school and you were merely one out of eighty of his students during the first semester. Surely you'd be walking out with no more than a barely scrimmaged 'A' and remnants of stupid economics jokes he and his colleagues found slapstick funny.

Jungkook always had an interesting sense of humor.

Bottom line? Your life wasn't a drama and you certainly didn't plan on living like it was–especially when your parents were on your tail, making sure their hard-earned money was well spent.

As if being bonked on the head by something called fate, however, Jungkook sent you away with far more than odd jokes and good grades.

Hey, hindsight is 20/20.

four years ago

“Oh, good morning.” A soft, yet hoarse voice strides past you. You view the man, estimating that he be in his early 30s though could easily pass for 25 by his youthful appearance. His hair is black, a bit shaggy but well-kept nonetheless. Silver piercings dangle from his ears and a pair of rectangular glasses rest on his perfectly symmetrical face. This is your professor?

Undoubtedly, what mesmerizes you the most is the striking arm tattoo partially displayed under the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt. You remember temporarily considering tattoo artistry in high school but studio arts appealed to you more.

Not like you got to do either though, seeing as you’ve been stuck in econ for the fifth year in a row. You’re parents insisted you get your master’s immediately after undergrad…how wonderful for you.

But back to the man at the front of the room. You weren’t expecting someone so hip and attractive–very, very attractive.

Your stomach churns but you brush the feeling away.

He's your professor for god sake.

The man, coincidentally your professor, quirks a small smile your way and sets his bag on the podium at the front. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here for another twenty minutes.”

“I just got out of another class a couple of rooms down so I’m here early.” You straighten in your seat and return a smile of your own. “It’s nice to meet you Dr. Jeon. I’m Y/N.” You start bouncing your leg up and down, clicking the pen in your hand. Please be right, please be right, you chant silently, hoping you remembered the name correctly.

Jungkook notices your slightly restless state but he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Just to be sure, you are here for ECON 602 right? Macroeconomic Theory?” He unzips his bag and sets his laptop on the podium. Making brief eye contact, he catches sight of the piece of paper directly below your nose. “That’s a beautiful sketch.”

You glance down, moving the paper to the side as if embarrassed. Not many people see your work beyond close friends, and even then you like to keep it to yourself. “Yes, absolutely,” you reply. “ECON 602, 12:15 pm. And thanks, I draw as a hobby.”

Your professor hums, nodding as he connects the HDMI cable to his laptop and lowers the presentation board.“ Dr. Kim is going to be quite jealous when he hears such artistic talent is in my economics class.” He lets out a slight chuckle. “You don’t mind if I tell him, do you? A little competition we have going on.”

You snort at the comment.

Dr. Kim Taehyung was the art department’s most talked about professor. Everyone knew him for his extremely unique perspective, classy personality, as well as his breathtaking artwork. You’ve passed him in the hallways a number of times, wishing you could study under him and dare you say, in more ways than one.

“I don’t mind.” You shake your head. “Are you and Dr. Kim close?” Maybe you shouldn’t be this curious but it was now fifteen minutes until the start of class and no one else had shown. What else were you going to fill time with? Awkward silence while you watch your professor fumble and tap on his keyboard?

“We were colleagues if you can believe that.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Only two years ahead of me in undergrad. When I first started teaching here I had no idea he was here too. But you know what they say __, it’s a small world.”

“Smaller,” you retort. “I feel like everywhere I go I run into someone I’ve known or seen at some point in my life. You just never really know I guess.” When you first entered university, you were counting your lucky stars that most of your high school peers were attending college nearby your hometown. You on the other hand were a good five to six hours from home. Last you checked, however, half of those peers were now getting married or on their second kid. Crazy how some people’s lives change on a dime.

You watch as your professor shuffles a few sheets of paper in his hands, scanning them briefly. “I can relate to that,” he mutters. “Pretty sure we haven’t met before though. Could be a bigger world than we think. Now where’s everyone else? Didn’t all drop last minute did they?” The man lifts his head, flashing a big gorgeous grin. His eyes are playful and dance with mirth.“Not that I would mind if it were just you and I this whole semester.“

“uh–“ is embarrassingly, all you say. He isn’t implying anything by that right? Oh god __, don’t be stupid. As you've established, this isn’t a romance novel and you’re most definitely not the main character.

“You seem attentive is what I mean,” the man says, breaking you out of your daze. “And beyond punctual. Two qualities that I hold in high esteem.” You’d say he had a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth but it was likely an illusion. Your professor has bigger fish to fry than worry about any possible scenarios you’ve concocted in your silly head.

Still, in a moment of sheer thoughtlessness, you say something you regret being unable to retract. “Thank you, I like you too.” As soon as the words fly out you feel the need to run out and bang your head against the wall. Thinking on your feet wasn’t your specialty.

Little to your knowledge, Jungkook finds your mannerisms cute and stifles the temptation to tease. You’re his student, after all, a little professionally please, he repeats to himself.

“So are you from here?” Jungkook asks, choosing to switch the topic before both of you get swallowed into a messy situation.

You shake your head in denial. “I live here temporarily but I grew up about five hours north of here. My parents are still there.”

“Ah, well that’s a bit away. I imagine you miss them?”

You ponder the question for a second, eyes rolling up in contemplation. “From time to time.” Jungkook gives a knowing look. He’s had his share of familial drama and the need for space.

“I understand,” he says. “I grew up ten hours south myself.”

“Wow, that’s…far.” You’re surprised by the distance and can’t imagine it’s an easy commute. You wonder how long he’s been here and more so, if he’s here alone.

“Yeah.” He rests his palms on the edge of the podium, leaning on them gently. The protruding veins in his forearms catch your attention but you pry yourself from lingering. After what you said earlier, the last thing you want is for Dr. Jeon to think you're coming on to him. “Gets a little quiet sometimes but I’ve learned to live with it.”

As if immune to learning from your mistakes you blurt exactly what’s in your head.“So you’re not–“

“Married? Dating? Seeing someone?” Jungkook finishes your sentence like it’s nothing he hasn’t done tenfold times before. “No. I’m not.”

You give a small “Ah,” nodding in understanding before another classmate walks in, putting an abrupt end to the conversation. Jungkook is quick to greet the young man who’s joined but he’s certain he won’t be forgetting your name anytime soon.

present

You tilt your head back, allowing beads of hot water to run down your bare skin. The sound of steady pattering combined with heavy steam relaxes your muscles.

You can't believe you actually told him.

Blurting out to Jungkook that you wanted a baby in the middle of a fight is not how you intended to open up to your husband. But everything escalated so fast that it just came out.

You think back to last night’s events.

Once the movie's credit scenes appear Jungkook feels your eyes burn through him from your lounged position. "You're making that face again," he says.

"There's no face."

"Look," Jungkook cuts shortly. "Will you just tell me so we can deal with it?!"

"Just deal with it? Like it's some kind of nuisance of an issue that needs treatment?" You jump up from the couch and head to your bedroom in a fury, your husband hot on your trail.

"I don't mean to be pissing you off, sweetheart but I know something's up." He follows you into the bathroom, watching you reach for your toothbrush. "Can you please slow down and talk to me?" He grabs the toothpaste before you can, forcing you to stop in your tracks.

"I–I want…I want to be a mom. I want a baby."

"A baby? What do you mean you want a baby?" You see the panic settling in his eyes. Jungkook takes you into his arms, his thumb wipes off some of your tears. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't know. When you came home from the park I didn't realize that little boy meant so much to you."

You try blinking back your tears but they keep running down your face. He's being gentle with you and you appreciate that but his choice of words tells you his answer is no. It's quiet, subtle, and cuts like a knife.

You break away from him to splash cold water on your face. The coolness calms your nerves. “He didn’t. Never–never mind what I said, sorry. I’m tired and I’m probably not thinking straight.”

It was a blatant lie but just look at your situation. Married for two years, still on birth control, and had no plans to change that. Suddenly one party diverts from the plan fully aware that the other is perfectly comfortable with the current plan.

Yes, you hoped he'd have a slightly better reaction but you don't blame him for his stunned look.

Plus, did you even have enough time to realize what you were saying? Feeling? It could easily be written off that you were simply impulsive, emotionally vulnerable, and so on with the track record you had regarding kids and parenting.

You sigh, bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

Not much else happened after the fight. Jungkook apologized again with his arms wrapped around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and kissed your cheek too.

It was the usual, it felt familiar and warm but the pang in your head put a roadblock to that. No marriage is perfect. You know that. But you have a feeling you and Jungkook are headed for a steep valley, both on opposing sides.

"Hi.” You’re taken out of your thoughts when you hear the shower door pop open. Your husband steps in, with messy hair and half-open lids. Evidently, still sleepy.

You spare him a glance and quickly reach for your body wash on the shelf. “Hi,” you reply back, voice monotone.

Jungkook moves closer behind you and curves an arm around you. He grabs the bottle out of your hand and squirts some of the soap into his palm. “How did you sleep?”

A small shiver runs up your spine when his cool hand rubs circles against your upper back and shoulder. It still feels nice, you admit. You see some of the soap drip down and hit the shower floor.

“I slept okay. You?”

“I’m about the same.” Jungkook moves his hand a little lower, making sure to cover your whole backside. “I’m really sorry about how I handled things last night. What I said and how I said it was inexcusable.”

“Please, Jungkook you don’t have to keep apologizing about it. I know…and I’m sorry I spurred it on you so suddenly. It’s not how I wanted you to find out.” if at all, you add to yourself.

“Is it still true?” he asks, stopping his movements. “Do you really want to start a family?”

You feel queasy all over again. His tone is serious and if you turn around you’ll likely see the fire in his eyes. So you remain in your position, facing towards the shower head.

“I don’t know…” you finally say after thirty seconds of eerie silence. “But I think I do, I really do. Seeing our friends and other people our age have kids makes me wonder if we’d ever have that. I can’t explain why right now. I know it’s unexpected after we’ve been living a sort of way for so long.” After another pause you continue. “But I know it’s not a mutual thing and that’s…okay.”

“Sweetheart, even if we were to have kids…where would we find the time? The school year’s starting soon and I’m gonna be running ragged at the university next week. You know my schedule. I teach Monday through Friday, leaving at 7:15 am and returning around 4 p.m. You leave for work a little later in the morning but get back at 5 p.m. All our week consists of will be eating a quick dinner together, then I have to squirrel away to my office for the night to review class notes and grade stacks of assignments.”

Though you’re aware of how crazy busy Jungkook gets during the school year, you’re not foolish enough to believe that is the root of his argument.

“Maybe you’re right that we don’t have much time now but Jungkook, we can figure it out. You only teach 9 months out of the year and I can–I can stay at home or we can hire a nanny. And we don’t have to do it right away but–“

“__.” Jungkook turns you around so you’re looking eye to eye. He hesitates to say his next words, fearing a replay of yesterday. But he can’t bring himself to pretend with you. Not on something this serious. “I understand and I want more than anything to tell you I want the same, but I can't lie to you. Being a father, and having a kid, I think it’s wonderful but I just never saw that for myself. I’m so sorry I–”

Your heart concaves into your chest. You absolutely want him to be honest but it pains you to hear. Where do you go from here?

Slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck. Jungkook jolts a bit, surprised by your sudden gesture but welcomes the embrace.

“It’s okay Jungkook.” You settle your head into his shoulder, simply wanting to be close. One tear spills out, then another. “It’s okay.”

“No, look at me __. You didn’t let me finish.” You lift your head from his shoulder. Jungkook strokes your back soothingly before continuing. “If this is what you want, then I’m not going to stand here and be the asshole husband that just dismisses it. But this is a big step.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t say what I think you are. Jungkook you don’t have to do anything.”

“I’m not saying I change my mind.” Of course, that would be unrealistic, you talk yourself through, preparing for his next words. “However, I am–I am willing to seriously consider this whole thing, babies, diapers, strollers, all of it. But I need you to be sure that this is what you want. And the only way I think that can happen is if we start this slow. Sounds like I’m making some sappy speech huh?”

Jungkook cracks a faint smile.

You look like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop or for him to yell psyche and flick your forehead or something.

But none of that happens.

Instead, Jungkook unwraps one of your arms from around your neck, places a light kiss on your knuckles, and stares deep into your eyes as if making a promise. “I know this isn’t exactly heaven to your ears but I’m just trying to say, let’s not rush to a decision yet, okay? All of this did just get revealed yesterday and I think it’d be unfair to both of us if we scurry past it without thinking.”

Shocked. You’re utterly shocked. You were expecting him to give you a flat-out no or attempt to cover up the issue somehow. While, this isn’t your ideal outcome, if Jungkook is willing to take this seriously, no bullshit necessary, then so are you.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You smile at him, feeling a tad lighter than you did before. Your heart beats again, slow and steady. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anything __. I married you and I intend to keep it that way.” Jungkook sneaks a wink and you press a kiss to his lips.

“Hey,” you pipe up. “It’s Sunday isn’t it?”

Jungkook nods in confusion. “It is..?”

“You have somewhere to be this morning don’t you?” You wait a moment before an oh-shit expression forms on Jungkook’s face.

As you remember your husband was supposed to be at some fancy gold club today. Like Jimin, a certain Kim Taehyung had his weekly “thing” too. Being close friends, Jungkook was supposed to be there, along with Hoseok.

“‘You're so right. 'M sorry honey I gotta go. They’re gonna kill me." Jungkook gives you one last kiss before slipping out of the shower. "I’ll be back for dinner.”

“Jungkook! Where the fuck have you been? We tried calling you!” Taehyung is the first to speak as soon as he catches sight of the younger man. He has his usual blush pink polo shirt on paired with well-pressed beige shorts.

He looks a little too handsome for golf.

Jungkook’s secretly glad his wife stayed home this time, as he’s fully aware of her mini crush on Taehyung in school. When she first found out they were colleagues he could tell she had borderline stars in her eyes.

“Sorry sorry,” Jungkook says. “I was doing stuff and time escaped me. Plus, I didn’t have my phone near me for a bit. But I’m here now, so let’s get going!” Jungkook walks in front of the two men, heading for the first stage of the golf course. “You guys coming?” He turns around and lifts both arms up.

Taehyung and Hoseok exchange looks before following his lead. It’s unlike Jungkook to be this eager for golf. In fact, he hates golf. And his explanation is a bit…questionable.

As much as Hoseok is a friend, he is also just as much of a psychologist who can't stop himself from practicing his craft when given the chance. “You doing alright?” Hoseok waits for Jungkook to answer, one hand clings around the top of his golf club while the other settles around his hip. "Haven't seen you since Jimin's last dinner.”

"Yeah, I'm good," Jungkook barely replies, watching Taehyung practice and few swings before taking the shot. Like a prodigy, it sinks right in. "Hole in one again man? I thought you painted."

Taehyung glances over his shoulder with a smug expression, cocky smirk, and sunglasses behind his head. "Don't be too jealous of hyung, Jungkookie."

"Fuck off Tae," Jungkook quips back. "I'm not 22 anymore. I have a good job, nice house, and a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home. What do you have? A bunch of golf balls in your pants.”

Hmm, a little more defensive than usual, Hoseok notes. And guarded too, something’s up.

"About that wife of yours Kook," Hoseok drawls. "How she doing?" Jungkook turns towards the man, slight distaste on his face.

“Uh, she’s fine. Thanks for asking. Also, I know what you’re doing and I’m not in the mood.”

"Ah Jungkook, you act like I'm being so malicious.” Smiling, Hoseok continues. “Can't I care about my friend of ten years without such accusations?"

Jungkook sighs and kicks the grass. Hoseok has been one of his closest friends for a long time so if there's anyone worth talking to about his current situation and who'd understand, I'd be him. "Well, I’m not saying much right now but.....__ recently told me she wants a baby. I’m still–I'm having trouble processing it. But I’m trying.”

Hoseok throws a hand behind the younger's shoulder. “That’s big news Jungkook and it’s completely fine that you’re still working through it. Don’t feel like you have to speed up the process either. I’ve known you both long enough to know that parenting hasn’t really been in the cards until now so I’m surprised myself.”

“I think she’s still a little unsure, but something happened the other day and it struck a cord inside her. She wants a family and,” Jungkook steps to the side, and Hoseok's hand slips from his shoulder. “I wish I could tell her I want it too. But I can't lie to her like that. I also don’t want her to bury that desire for my sake, so I told her we could consider it. I don’t know man, I feel like I’m trying to do the right thing but I don’t know if I can do this. Will I ever change my mind? I want to, for her.”

Hoseok looks at his friend with soft eyes, compassion in them. “Unfortunately, this is not something you can foresee nor force. At least not this early. But you’re definitely doing the right thing by not brushing her off. As real as your feelings are about not wanting a child right now, so are __'s feelings. It’s best you listen to both sides.”

Jungkook tousles his hair around. “I just–fuck.”

Hoseok doesn’t need further explanation to understand Jungkook’s predicament. He’s frustrated, blames himself, and is struggling to come to terms with reality. The unknown scares him and he doesn’t want to lose control of what little he has. “I’m sorry, Kook…it’s a heavy load. Why don't you come in for a session sometime? I think this might be something worth talking through."

“You mean therapy? I don't know, I’m about to have a pretty tight with school starting.”

"One hour, forty minutes at least," Hoseok insists. "Why not try it once and if you don't like it, you don't have to do it again. I love you both and as a friend, I want to be here for you. Beats standing around and watching Taehyung kick our ass at golf. Just think about it and let me know. As I said, I'm always here for you bro."

Jungkook nods and reaches a hand out to gently squeeze Hoseok's shoulder. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

"Hey!" Taehyung waves from afar. "What you guys doing still up there? I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes! Don’t forget that last place buys lunch.”

“He’s referring to you Kook.” Hoseok chuckles, slaps Jungkook on the back, and walks down the golf course toward Taehyung. “You suck at golf.”

Jungkook grunts, following close behind. If this were a benching competition he’d be taking home the whole damn meal.

With Jungkook still gone doing who knows what with his buddies you decide to blast your very wide array of music. It’s a good thing you and Jungkook live in your own house or else your poor neighbors would be knocking down the door with the landlord by now. Yes, that may or may not have happened once with you were in college.

Along with the music you stick true to your character and spread your art supplies on your drawing table. You had your own mini studio, thanks to your wonderful relator who helped find you the house. You reach for a pencil, spinning it between your fingers. Maybe you should finish the drawing of the park’s pond.

Mm, you don’t really feel like packing all your supplies and driving over right now.

Deciding to save it for another day, you ponder ideas of what to do instead. Should you try out your new watercolors? You bought them last week and while you weren’t exactly in low supply, if your husband can have a hundred scented candles you can have your paints.

bling–

You snatch your phone hearing the notification bell.

Jungkook: the rest of your morning going well? [sent at 11:03 a.m]

You smile faintly and type out a reply. Sweet to check in you suppose.

__: Fine. How are the guys? [sent at 11:04 a.m]

Jungkook: Whooping my ass but it’s alright. [sent at 11:07 a.m]

Good, you smirk. Jungkook is awful at golf. And he can stand to lose at something like the rest of you.

__: When are you coming home? [sent at 11:10 a.m]

Jungkook: Looking to wrap things up around 4 pm. I think we’re having a late lunch. Miss you. [sent at 11:13 a.m]

__: Okay, sounds good because I was thinking maybe we could go for ice cream when you get back. After dinner? miss you too [sent at 11:14 a.m]

You stare at the screen, waiting for a reply.

One minute goes by…

Two minutes…

Three…

Jungkook: Okay, sounds amazing. But why not before dinner? The place we like closes early on Sundays. I love you! [sent at 11:17 a.m]

Oh shoot, that’s right. You and Junkook have gone to the same ice cream shake since you first started dating. The couple who run it are super sweet, only a decade older. How could you forget?

__: I’m a dummy, yes we’ll go before dinner. I love you too [sent at 11:18 a.m]

Jungkook: Noo, you’re not a dummy! But okay, I’ll see you soon! [sent at 11:19 a.m]

Rejuvenated, you turn off your phone, jump off your art stool and crank the current song up–Runaway by Bon Jovi. Let’s see, you think, tearing a piece of watercolor paper from your drawing pad, what to do.

When the idea strikes you prepare water, paintbrushes, your palette, and anything else you may need for the next five hours give or take. You snatch your phone again and scroll through your photo gallery, hoping to get a good reference photo.

Your best friend’s birthday was two weeks away and she’s been subtly hinting for a painting of her, her fiancee’, and her dog Bear. As her closest friend and well-practiced artist, you think it is best to appease her request.

Jungkook comes home at 4 pm on the dot. Not a minute later. He looks happy, you conclude. Genuinely happy. It looks good on him.

“__!” Jungkook runs through the front door and lifts you up in his arms. He spins you around and you place your hands on his shoulders. This is so unexpected but nice.

“Jungkook,” you struggle to catch your breath. “What’s going on?”

“I just love coming home to you.” He places you back down and grabs your wrist. “Come on, I wanna stuff you full with ice cream.”

“That sounds so weird,” you laugh.

“Why?” Jungkook opens the front door, ushering you to go ahead of him.

“Because…it sounds like you want to stuff me. Like in a weird way.”

“Woman, that cleared nothing up for me.” You hop into the car with stupid grins on your face. You don’t even know what you mean let alone having to explain to your husband. What can you say, Jungkook makes you a little braindead.

“I just mean that you wanting to stuff me with ice cream sounds like the witch from Hanzel and Gretel. You wanna fatten me up to eat me. Or taxidermy,….or Build a Bear.”

“What the fuck honey,” Jungkook curses, backing out of your drive. “Did you get into something funky while I was gone?”

“No what–ugh never mind.” You stare out the window, arms crossed and biting back the need to giggle uncontrollably. Why were you so giddy right now?

Jungkook glances over with amusement. He knows you’re inches away from balling over with laughter. “You know what honey?”

“Hmm?”

“I think instead of stuffing you full of ice cream, I’m gonna stuff you full with something just as good.”

“Don’t say it Kook, don’t. I’m going to bust a gut.” You beg fully aware he’s not about to back down.

“My fucking cawk,” he says, making sure to exaggerate the last part.

You throw a hand over your mouth, tears well up in your eyes and this time, they’re not sad ones.

You pull up at the small, but charming ice cream stand at around 4:20 pm. It’s a decent crowd tonight.

You and Jungkook get out of the car with laced hands. You’ve managed to calm down now, thankfully. As you make your way to the line a small voice catches both your attention.

“Appa!” A little girl with blue ribbons in her hair runs past you. She looks between eight to ten years old. You and Jungkook follow her movement as she leaps up into her father’s arms.

You smile at the interaction. Her father kisses her cheek and chuckles as she shows him her ribbons. She looks like she’s telling a very eventful story.

Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. His eyes set on the pair but you’re unsure what he’s thinking. “Kook?” you say, but he doesn’t respond. You shake his hand, the one laced in yours, but still no response. It’s when you step in front of his view that you get him back.

“Hey,” you say. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook blinks at you and shakes his head a bit. “I’m good, sorry. Not sure what happened there. Must be a bit out of it today. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

A/N: I like this series vv much...thank you to anyone reading :) Lmk your thoughts and if you wanna be tagged comment or send me an ask!

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

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dahliadew · 1 year

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Danny Fenton assistant to the stars (dp x dc fanfic prompt)

After leaving Amity with little to nothing to his name and refusing any help from Vlad, Danny knows he needs a job, a home, and maybe some health insurance that would be really cool. So Danny applies to as many places as he can, barely looking at the job listing, just putting out as many resumes as possible. And just before he gives up entirely, he gets a callback! Who cares if it's from some shady place called Lex Corp? At this point, a job is a job; all he has to do is work as some weird rich guy's assistant. Great, he can do this; no one is worse than Vlad, and hey, the chances of another billionaire being a supervillain are like super low……. Right?

So Lex has a problem, and that problem is PR; with all the trouble with superman and the justice league, his public perception has been in the toilet lately, and well, he needs to do something before his stock prices fall even more. After looking at different ways to endear himself to the public, he looks to his neighbors across the bay in Gotham. Bruce when from the front page of every trashy tabloid to the face of parenting with his numerous adoptions. And well, he doesn't necessarily want to adopt a whole child but an intern that could work. So he puts a listing up looking for high school to college-age individuals who want experience in business management. Most of what he gets back is worthless until he gets a resume from one Daniel 'Danny' Fenton. Not only is he the son of two mad scientists, he had an early entry into the junior NASA program, but he's also the godson of one of his supervillain colleagues, Vlad Plasmius. So if he does hire him, he wouldn't have to hide any of his supervillain activities the lad may even be able to contribute to them.

However, in the background, Clack has been monitoring Luther's activity, and once he sees the innocent young man that he has coned into letting him parade around, he becomes concerned. And well, the daily planet has been looking for some new interns. Maybe he can convince the kid to work there instead. It would be for the best anyway, and it has nothing to do with the kid's incredibly slow heartbeat or may or may not have lifted some concrete off of someone during one of superman's battles. Ok, maybe it has something to do with the fact might be another surviving Krypton who was being taken advantage of by Luther. Or he might be a clone, but who knows? Either way, he's going to try to help the kid if only he would stop running away from him.

#dc x dp #dp crossover #dp dc crossover #dp prompt #dp fanfic #danny phantom #danny fenton #lex luthor #superman #clark kent #dcu #dcu fanfic #dcu prompts #fanfiction prompts #fanfic

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grey342 · 6 months

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Teacher's pet

College Professor!Phil x reader

synopsis - Phil notices his favourite student struggling and offers her extra help after class.

warnings - MDNI 18+ content, age gap (reader is 20, Phil is in his late 30s), obsessive! reader, Phil whimpering, riding (kinda) and Oral (f receiving).

authors note - *insert 'Older' by Isabel LaRosa*. I LOVE this one sm! Let me know what your thoughts! Again thank you so much for being patient with me, I love every single one of you <3 P.S- The reader is VERY delusional but lets be fr we all are.

please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342

You fucked up big time.

At first it was a typical high school girl crush but now you were full blown obsessed with him. Getting jealous whenever he talked to another female student or teacher, waking up at 4 am and getting fully ready for your 8 am class with him and finding any excuse to be close to him at all times.

He wasn't helping either.

It really seemed like he was reciprocating your feelings. Always checking up on you in and outside of class, always making you laugh, smiling at you and winking at you.

You didn't think it would become that big of a problem until your grades started to drop in his class. You were simply getting too distracted.

Like right now, you hadn't even noticed he was going around the class handing out your graded papers.

"F again," he sighs disappointedly, "what's going on honey? You never failed my class before and now you're failing every assignment I give you."

"I don't know Mr Wenneck." You say looking down, avoiding his gaze. You hate disappointing him.

"I do. I know exactly whats going on." He declares. You suck in a breath.

"Yo-You do." You gulp.

"Yep," he pauses, "you're over-complicating the work." You let out a breath of relief.

"Don't worry. This is an easy fix, we'll need to start one on one sessions at the end of the day."

"Oh okay." You squeak, trying to hide your excitement.

"Good. We'll start today, be here by 3:30." He winks and moves onto the person next to you.

When the bell rang, you didn't bother going to your second class. You went straight to your dorm to get ready for later. Hardly containing your eagerness.

...

It's exactly 3:30 when you knock on his door. He beckons you inside and you close the door behind you. Ensuring it's shut tight. This was the first time you would be fully alone together and you wanted no disruptions.

"Ah, right on time. Take a seat and i'll be right with you." He says smiling.

He grabs a few things from his desk and makes his way over to sit right next to you. You inhale and exhale quietly, trying to calm yourself down. But all you can think about is how close he is to you and what would happen if you moved your hand slightly ov-

“So,” he grunts, “let’s start with the first part of the topic and see which parts you’re struggling on the most. Mkay?” He asks.

“Um, yeah okay.” You say trying to sound more confident.

He starts explaining the content to you but all you can focus on is his hands. How big they are, how his veins slightly pop out and how they move when he talks. You were too entranced to notice he asked you a question. He was staring at you awaiting an answer.

"I-um sorry, can you repeat the question?" You spluttered out, slightly embarrassed.

He smirks and looks at you. You look down to avoid eye contact when you feel his hand come under your chin to lift your head up.

“Now honey, there’s no need to be nervous.” He says shaking his head in a comforting manner. You look into his eyes and before you can stop yourself, you lean in and press your lips to his.

You felt him slightly pull back out of shock but, in the same moment he leaned in full accepting the kiss. Your hands in his hair and his on your waist.

You pulled away to catch your breath and the realisation of what you just did slapped you in the face.

“Oh god, Mr Wenneck i’m s-”

“Call me Phil.” He cuts you off and captures your lips passionately. He grabs you and pulls you onto his lap. You grip on to his shirt pulling him impossibly closer. His hands rest on the plump of your ass, slowly guiding you back and forth. He pulls away, you're sharing breaths.

"I knew you felt the same," he lowly whispers, "I could tell. The way you'd get nervous talking to me, the lil' blush on your cheeks when i made eye contact with you." You feel your cheeks burn.

You feel the growing tent in his pants against our core. You gasp in both shock and delight. You look into his lust filled eyes and slowly begin to move back and forth. He lets out a sound of pleasure, you swear it was a whimper.

He leans in and begins to kiss at your jaw and neck, you sigh.

"So pretty.." He mumbles.

You feel his hands creep at the bottom of your shirt, bunching it up insisting he wants it off. You reach down and pull the shirt over your head revealing the lace bra underneath.

"Shit.." He breathes, you feel him grow beneath you. You reach down to unbuckle his belt when he picks you up and slams you on the desk. Emphasising his need for you.

He leans towards your chest and begins to kiss your boobs. His hands meet the waistband of your pants slightly tugging at them. He looks into your eyes and you give him a nod of approval.

He wastes no time in pulling them down along with your panties. He gets down onto his knees and spreads your legs, moaning at the sight in front of him. He moves forward, giving a gentle kiss to your cunt he then licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit.

"Oh god.."

"Not god baby, Phil.." You moan in response.

Slurping your juices like a man starved, his tongue thrusts deeper and deeper inside you. Your fingers gripping onto his hair to keep you grounded.

Without even realising you began to grind against his face, the pleasure taking over you. His lips are glued to your clit, sucking and kissing. His hands grab your legs and pull them over his shoulders, gripping on to your thighs keeping them spread.

"Oh shit Phil, right there.."

"Yeah, you like that?," he breathes heavily, "you like being a dirty lil' slut for your professor, hm?" You nod your head rapidly.

He began to suck harshly on your clit. Your back arches and your toes curl as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

"Fuck! Ye-Yes, right there shit.." Your almost screaming. You open your eyes to look at him, reassuring yourself this is all real and not another dream.

You look down to see him staring right back at you, he winks at you and slides his index and middle finger inside of you. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"I'm gonna cum..." You warn as he pounds his fingers into you whilst sucking your clit.

"Cum for me baby, let go." He hummed.

In that moment you let go, the pleasure crashing over you. He groans against your pussy, not letting one drop of your cum spill.

He pulls your pants back up, puts your shirt back on and looks at you, checking your okay. He helps you stand and hands you your bag. He leans down and kisses you gently.

"Same time tomorrow honey." He smirks leaving you stunned.

You walk out of his classroom with the biggest grin on your face, excited for what tomorrow will bring.

#bradley cooper #bradley cooper x reader #phil wenneck #phil wenneck x reader #the hangover #x reader #smut #teacher crush #hot teacher #teacher x student #campus #classroom

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fleur-bbyy · 1 year

Text

late night rendezvous /// katsuki bakugo

rating: 18+. minors dni.

word count: 4k+

warnings: smut, daddy kink, breeding kink, degrading, use of pet names, characters aged up to 20’s, college!au, quirkless!au, sex without condom (wrap it up), use of birth control, tummy bulges, alcohol use, afab reader, pussy and cunt are used to describe reader’s parts, kind of rough katsuki, color-coded texting used. pink is mina, orange is bakugo, red is kirishima.

this is my first time writing smut, take it easy on my fragile feelings :’) i’m trying to work on having my writing flow so bear with me.

we hit the highway 1-5-5 with my whole foot on the dash, she’s in my ear, she’s got no fear, she could care less if we crash.

“too lanky.” swipe

“all of his pictures have girls in them.” swipe.

“he’s definitely lying about being of age.” swipe.

“mina, why did you even have me download the damn app if all the guys on here don’t have your seal of approval?”

“you’re thinking too negatively! you just have persist and find that hidden gem!” you don’t know how your roommate convinced you download tinder. you guys always had a midweek dinner together, just making sure you stay caught up with each other due to your busy schedules. after a few too many glasses of wine, you had confessed to her that you hadn’t been properly dicked in a few months. the thought of going without good sex horrified your pink-haired friend and she was practically on her knees begging your to download some sort of dating/hookup app.

“mina i don’t think this was a good idea. either none of them fit your ‘good hookup’ standards or they don’t fit mine.” you threw your phone down in defeat.

“oh c’mon! you just ha-“

“if you tell me i have to look a little longer i’ll rip your tongue out and slap you with it.” you said, cutting her sentence off. she slowly closed her mouth and looked at the ground in thought. twiddling her thumbs as she did so. your own mind drifted away in thought until she suddenly jolted up off the couch.

“bakugo!” she yelled whilst jumping up and down like a cartoon character.

“huh?”

“oh c’mon! i know you’ve always thought he was attractive! your face turns that tomato red color every time you see him! plus, he’s been single for a while and I really think you two would look good together!” you looked up at her with a dumbfounded expression, blinking slowly.

“bakugo? as in katsuki bakugo? as in katsuki ‘stares daggers at anybody who isn’t you or his close friends’ bakugo?” you slowed down each word spoken as if it would sink into the pinkette’s head. you could admit that he was pretty attractive, but you and katsuki had only had a few interactions, none of them giving off “perfect hookup” vibes. in fact, the only vibes he gave off were “i hate your guys” vibes. each time it was when mina had the friend group over and you happened to either come in late or leave your room for something. she always invited you to join, but you always declined. never wanting to intrude on the little group that’s been inseparable since high school.

“i promise, babes, he’s actually super sweet in his own scary kind of way! you have to get to know him,” she grabbed you by your shoulders, “let me text kiri and see if he thinks bakugo would be down!” before you could express any disinterest, mina had already skipped along over to her room to get her phone. you groaned and covered your head with a pillow as you slumped down onto your couch. contemplating the events of the last hour, wishing you hadn’t of taken mina’s offer to buy your favorite flavor of red.

you sat on the couch for a few more minutes before mina happily ran back into the room and tore the pillow from your face. she was practically shoving her phone in your face with the brightness all the way up.

“jesus, mina, are you trying to blind me?”

“oh get over it you baby. anywho, kiri said he thinks it’s a great idea, and he’s been trying to get bakugo out there again, so he’s gonna try to talk him into it!” she let out a little squeal as she shook her empty hand back and forth wearing the widest smile on her face.

“yay?” you replied, a little apprehensive, but also just trying to fake some excitement.

“don’t sound too happy, babes, you’ll piss your pants in enthusiasm.” her voice dripped with sarcasm and she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i’m sorry, meens, i’m just nervous! your friends are scary and you’re trying to set me up with the scariest one!” you thought about the times you’ve encountered her friend group. all of them (excluding bakugo) had always been super friendly and inviting towards you and even encouraged you to join them if mina tried inviting you to hang out. the sheer size of all of them intimidated you the most, all of them towering over you and most of them were built from years of weight training. kirishima was the biggest, with huge muscles that always seemed to be flexed, even if he was relaxing. bakugo coming in a close second. the difference between the two was kirishima was always outgoing and friendly and bakugo was…

well, he was just not.

it seemed like he always made a point to glare at you. barely ever speaking a word if you happened to come across him in the kitchen or in the hall where the bathroom was. only brushing your shoulder as he walked past you or muttering a “tch.” if you accidentally bumped into him, even if it was his fault you two collided.

that’s why you were shocked when kirishima told mina he had actually talked bakugo into hanging out at your apartment with you.

just the two of you alone.

alone.

the thought loomed over your head for the next week. you didn’t know why you were so nervous. it’s not like it was that serious or you actually wanted it to work out. it was just simply hanging out to watch a movie or two. it’s not like you admired his toned body every time you bumped into him in your little apartment, taking in the way he smelt sweet like burnt sugar.

watching the way his shirt would lift when he grabbed something from the top of the pantry and you got to peek at his toned stomach and the little v-line that disappeared in his sweats.

the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

you definitely didn’t see him in that way.

when the night finally came, you were a nervous wreck. you tried to hide how nervous you were, but mina saw right through your little facade.

“you are going to be absolutely fine. if you need anything, i’m turning my phone off do not disturb for you, so don’t be afraid to call or text.” she lightly applied some makeup to your face, just enough to enhance your features. she dressed you in a tennis skirt and a tight graphic crop top. not too unusual for stuff you’d usually wear out, but not something her friends had ever seen you in.

“don’t make me feel too special now. you never turn your phone off DND for anybody.” she stretched the skin around your left eye to apply some eyeliner.

“you know I love you babes. you’re my best freaking friend! now shut the fuck up so I don’t mess this up.” she swatted at you and you tried your best to contain your laughter as she finished up. afterwards, the two of you couldn’t contain your fits of giggles.

before she left the apartment, she stuffed some condoms into the drawer on the side table. “just in case” she told you. she reassured you once more that you looked amazing and that the date would go fine.

date. a little word currently giving you so much anxiety. you made your way to your smaller couch closer to the door to wait on bakugo and try to clear some of the negativity from your head.

a few minutes after she left, you heard a slightly aggressive knock on your door. before opening it, you smoothed out any wrinkles in your skirt and admired yourself in the small mirror you kept hanging near the door. a second, more aggressive, knock scared you out of your trance and you finally gripped the knob and opened the door.

bakugo was leaning against the railing across from your door and you had to admit, this man looked damn fine.

he wore a simple outfit. black jeans, white tee, and a black bomber jacket. his undercut looked as if he gelled it to look more uniform, a gesture that made your heart flutter. an outfit like this usually wouldn’t affect you much, but knowing that a man with a body that looked like it was carved by michelangelo himself was wearing it made your core buzz to life.

“hey.” you said, trying to not sound as desperate for him as you felt and gesturing for him to come inside.

“hey.” he replied dryly, pushing past your body to come inside. this time though, his hands found your waist as he moved you aside so he could fit in the doorframe. any doubts you had about maybe wanting to take your chance and fuck this man melted away. any denial about your blossoming feelings for the man also gone. you became a woman determined to get in the blonde’s pants.

you shut and locked your door and quickly told him to make himself at home and gave him the remote to pick the movie. his fingers lingered on your hand a little longer than they should’ve.

“d’ya want a drink?” you asked, making your way to your small kitchen and pulling out the ingredients to make yourself one. hoping some liquid courage would calm your nerves and be a good excuse in case bakugo didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“yeah you can whip somethin’ up for me. kirishima told me that mina said you have some bartendin’ experience.” he looked over his shoulder at you and flashed you a smirk. there was no doubt about it, this man was confident.

“that i do,” you smiled back at him, “so you’ve been asking about me, eh?” you joked, pouring together various liquids. so far, you were finding it relatively easy to converse with the blonde on your couch. mentally cursing yourself for having to admit that mina was right about him.

you decided to make yourself a simple mixture of pink whitney and lemonade. you made him a whiskey sour, remembering mina asking you to make one real quick after he and his last girlfriend had broken up and the group was due to come at any minute to cheer him up. she told you it was his favorite.

“how’d you know, huh?” he asked as you handed him the glass.

“i have my ways, besides, a magician never reveals her secrets.” you gave him a wink as you sat next to him on the couch. he had picked some netflix show that you never got the name of, mainly because as the night went on and the drinks kept coming, you found each other engrossed in conversation. hopping from one subject to the next and finding out you have a lot of similar interests. eventually, his jacket came off and was draped over the back of the couch. leaving his toned, muscular arms on display and ready to be eyefucked by you.

“no way! i would’ve never pegged you as a drummer!”

“believe it, sweets. what? pinky never told you?” the hand he had tracing circles on your exposed thigh did not go unnoticed. neither did the pet name. you’ve been practically drilling since you sat down next to him. unsure of if you’re actually this attracted towards him or just severely depraved of any action.

“truth be told, she never goes into too much detail about you. probably because you terrify me.” he furrowed his perfect brows at you.

“terrify you?” his hand moved up your thigh some more, your core that had ached since the moment he stepped in your house now screaming for something, anything. a damp patch starting to grow on your panties.

“oh come on, there’s no way you don’t recognize how intimidating you can be. especially since you’re a huge guy,” you gripped his bicep to try to and show him what you’re talking about, but you also just wanted an excuse to touch him. you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips turned into a smile or that his hand had moved to your waist, “plus, you’re always staring at me in such a mean looking way. could’ve had me convinced that you hate me.”

“hate you?” he started to lean in.

“yeah.” you leaned in to him too.

“‘m not sure if it’s just the alcohol talking, but i’m more than willing to show you just how big of a guy i am. i’ll show you i don’t hate you, just thought you were so fuckin’ sexy and didn’t know how to tell you.” the two of you were as close to each others faces that you could be without physically touching. your breaths fanning over his face and his to yours. his breath smelled like spearmint gum mixed with liquor.

“it’s definitely not the alcohol talking for me, wanted you since the moment you walked in.” and with that you finally closed the gap. making out with the huge blonde in the middle of your living room. hands running up and down each others bodies. yours making themselves at home in his blonde locks and his moving between groping your tits and ass, the movements making you moan into his mouth. suddenly, he pulled himself back. you gave bakugo a confused look.

“should we talk about this first? we’re both not completely there, y’know.” it startled you when he pulled away. it startled you even more when the caring words left his mouth. the gesture of wanting to make sure you weren’t taking advantage of each other while you both had alcohol in your system making you melt into his hands.

“no. i know i wan’ you, plus, im beginning to sober up.” you dove back in, but this time your lips found comfort in his neck. leaving soft kisses and nips on his sensitive skin while he tried to suppress the groans threatening to erupt from his chest. your hands found the hem of his shirt and started tugging it up. he took the hint and pulled his shirt off and throwing in behind the couch. letting you see his chest in all of its glory. any qualms the two of you may of had seemingly disappearing once his shirt was gone. he had a few blonde hairs on his chest and beautiful, tanned skin. his abs could compare to any body builder.

“y’know starin’s fuckin’s rude right, angel?” he grabbed your wrists and brought them to his chest. letting your fingers roam his nude upper half. you pinched and squeezed at his body, paying some extra attention to his nipples. the feeling of you touching his body was already becoming too much and a groan finally escaped his lips. “stop fuckin’ teasin’ me and lemme take your shirt off.”

you removed yourself from his chest and raised your arms, allowing him to take off your top. he moved his fingers slowly, delicately as if he were trying to give himself a show and savor every bit of your skin that was revealed as he pulled your shirt up. he was surprised to see that you had foregone a bra.

“such a dirty fuckin’ slut. so desperate for cock that you couldn’t even keep yourself decent.” he squeezed at your chest and took one of your nipples in his mouth. his wet tongue running circles over it again and again. he drank up the moans that left your mouth and you arched your back, making your chest press into him more and threw your head back.

“fuck bakugo!” you yelped out. you unconsciously started grinding your hips down onto his growing bulge. the arousal starting to leak through your panties and leaving a damp patch on the dark denim of his jeans. he moaned around your nipple at the contact, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight down to your core.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty y’know that?” he said as he released your nipple from his mouth, replacing it with his hands once more. his hands were rough and calloused, but felt oh so good on your aching body. “i would’ve gotten you outta your clothes ages ago if i knew how desperate you needed it.”

“oh yeah?” you said, breathlessly, “then show me how pretty you think i am.” katsuki’s stubbornness came to your advantage when you challenged him. you knew from nights where him and the group would play mario kart on your tv that he wasn’t one to back down and he certainly wasn’t one to lose. he finally let his hand slide under your skirt on grab ahold of your perfect peachy ass.

you kept your body moving back and forth on his. one of his hands rested lazily on your hip while the other gripped at your ass and moved you at an almost impossible pace on him. he removed the hand that was kneading your ass and moved it to your aching clit. using some of his fingers to push your panties to the side and using another to run his finger up and down your soaked slit whilst you still continued grinding into him. he let you coat his finger before bringing it back up to eye level.

“look at how fuckin’ wet you are f’me.” he twisted his finger to let the slickness catch the light. the tip of the finger started to prune because of the wetness. you were already started to approach orgasm from the rough grinding, but the sight of him admiring your arousal on his finger sped the process up. your hips starting to move even faster against him and he placed the finger in his mouth. moving his tongue up and down in a dramatic showcase just for you. slurping up any of your juices that dared to drip from his index with a wicked grin on his face.

the sight of him in combination with the rough grinding on your clit was enough to make the coil inside your stomach unravel. the pressure that had been steadily building for so long finally had you releasing a clear liquid all over his now ruined jeans. you threw your head into his shoulder as your body shook from such an intense orgasm. bakugo moving his hand down to rub you clit through your panties as you released a few more spurts of liquid.

“fuck, you just squirt f’me? just from some dry humpin’? you really are such a desperate slut.” he turned his head to whisper in your ear and his words made you start to gush again. he pushed your thighs back to give him some room to unbutton his pants and free his achingly hard cock from its confines. you had to admit, everything about him really was big. he wasn’t as long as some that you’ve had before, but boy was he thick. you eyed the vein the ran under his cock and his angry, red tip with a pearl of pre just waiting for you to suck.

you started to make your way out of his lap and down to the floor, but he grabbed your thighs and settled you back where you were resting before.

“you don’t want me to give you head?” you asked, quizzically.

“no, just fuckin’ need to get inside you.” he pushed your panties to the side once more.

“but baku-“

“don’t fuckin’ call me that after you squirted all over me. just call me katsuki.” you took ahold of your panties as he ran his cock up and down your wetness, lubing himself up. he lined himself up with your slippery entrance and grabbed your hips to keep you from slamming down onto him, you wanted this just as much as he did and you practically cried trying to throw yourself down onto him.

“please fuck me katsuki!” your eyes started filling with frustrated tears as you wiggled. your hips over him, trying to get some friction.

“you’re gonna have to try harder than that, angel.” he gave you a devilish smirk and raised his hand to wipe some of the tears that dripped from your lashes.

you were desperate and willing to pull out all the stops to get what you wanted.

“fuck me daddy please i need you so fucking badly.” you didn’t even comprehend the words you were saying, so hellbent on getting him inside you. you watched his ruby eyes somehow darken even more with ravenous arousal.

“say that shit again.”

“fuck me daddy?” you said in a more confused than begging tone. the grip he had on your hips was so tight you were sure bruises would be left as he thrusted into your warm and inviting walls. the stretch of having him was so deliciously good that you either didn’t have any pain or it was easily overlooked. one of his hands found his face as he laid his head back on the couch. the sight of your tits bouncing as you fucked yourself down on him was almost too hot to handle.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a sloppy kiss and you roughly bounced up and down on his length. your tongues dancing together and his thighs beginning to flex from the pleasure of having you on him.

“fuck yeah baby uh throw that ass back on me. wish i could fuckin’ see it. fuck this cock shit fuckin’ use my body.” a harsh slap landed on your ass as he hiked your skirt up around your waist. making sure nothing could impede his perfect view. he loved watching his cock appear and disappear in in your tight folds. he used on his hands to spread your lips apart and get a good look at your glistening clit, the sight making him audibly groan. the lewd moans leaving your lips were loud enough for the neighbors to start pounding their fists on the other side of the wall.

“ignore them. jus’ wanna fuck you.” you said, voice barely above a whisper and tainted by strings of moans that kept leaving your body. his hips had now started to snap upwards into you. every time you bounced down on him, he fucked upwards causing his cock to reach impossibly deep in you. he put one of his hands over your belly and almost came just from the feeling of being able to feel himself deep in your guts.

“look at the way this pussy just sucks me in, you fuckin’ love it… you love the way i fuck this sweet pussy.. shit shit shit.” katsuki’s words shooting straight to your throbbing cunt and making you ride him and an impossible pace. the sound of skin slapping and the squelching of your juices fills your apartment and echos off the walls. your moans and his rough grunts somehow making the two of you even hornier. just two college kids with sex hormones going insane.

you really lost it when he leaned over and let a fat amount of spit slide off his tongue and onto the base of his cock before you slid down on him again. the added lube helping bring you closer to your second orgasm of the night. your pussy fluttering and clenching down on him.

“fuck, you’re close aren’cha? wanna cum on this cock? i wanna know what it feels like to have you cum around me.” his words causing the familiar burning sensation in your stomach to come back for a second time. one of his hands come down to roughly rub your clit and your nails start to dig into the junction where his neck and shoulders meet. sweat was causing his blonde hairs to stick to his forehead and his abs glisten.

“fuck yes mark me baby. wan’ everyone to know i’m fuckin’ yours.” his thumb rubbed your swollen clit at what felt like a near impossible pace and you know you were close to snapping once more.

“god fuck me daddy… fuck me daddy… fuck me daddy i need to cum around your cock! i need to feel you fill me up!” for the second time this night his eyes filled with carnal desire as he started relentlessly fucking into you once more. babbling in his pussy drunk state about how good you feel around him and how good he’s gonna fill you. words fall on deaf ears as your second orgasm overtakes you so hard that white flashes over your eyes and squeal at a deafening pitch. you grip his blonde locks as your long awaited release leaks down his thighs and onto the couch.

“that’s it baby. paint this cock with your cum. fuck i don’ know if i can last much longer.”

“jus’ fucking cum for me katsuki please, i need it so bad daddy please. god… fuck!” his pace never faltered, even though your pussy tried to force him out as you came. he just kept fucking up into you, desperate to let go.

“fuck fuck baby m’ gonna cum, gonna fill you up so fuckin’ good baby. take it fuckin’ take it all…. you on birth control? he whined in your ear as you laid your head on his shoulder completely fucked out. you managed to lift up a bit just to nod your head yes to his question. with your granted permission, his hips started to slightly falter and with a few more rough thrusts, he released his hot seed into your abused cunt. he threw his head back in ecstasy as he came so much it spilled out of you. you threw your hips onto him a few more times before he had to grab you to stop.

“fuckin’ hell angel are you tryin’ to kill me?” he said through breathless pants, shooting a tired smile at you. you smiled back at him with hazy eyes. it was clear you were both exhausted from the nights activities. in the room’s quietness, you heard him chuckle.

“what’s so funny hot-shot?” you looked up at him, confused.

“the screen, ain’t that fuckin’ classic.” he started laughing again as you turned over your shoulder to see netflix’s “are you still watching?” screen light up your living room. you couldn’t help laughing a bit too. after the laughing had ceased, the two of you remained in an embrace as he gently lifted you up and slid his now soft cock out of you.

he stroked your hair as you started to let sleep overtake you. bakugo didn’t mind. he thought your tired/fucked-out face was the most adorable sight to see.

“mmm ‘night katsuki.” your words came out slurred because of your sleepiness.

“g’night baby.” he heard you start to lightly snore against his chest. he continued petting your hair and rubbing your back, content with having you rest atop him. mina wasn’t supposed to come back until morning, so he didn’t have to worried about you guys getting caught naked with his limp dick still out.

he played on his phone for about ten minutes until he felt it vibrate. he looked at the top notification panel and saw it was his group message on snapchat that he sometimes dreaded being apart of. he slid open the chat and saw that it was kirishima that had texted.

hey man, how’s it goin between you 2?

it’s going fine. she’s sleeping right now.

well?

well what?

did you do it??????

are you fucking 12? just say sex.

is that a yes?

bakugo knew they knew the answer. they messed with denki the same way last time they knew he got laid. deciding to play into their little game, he pulled up the camera on snapchat while the group chat began to buzz to life as sero and kaminari also started typing. he angled the camera so none of your privates were seen, but enough so they got the point. he rested his large hand under your skirt and on your asscheek as he clicked the circular button to take the picture. neither of your faces visible, but his bare thighs and your bare back could be seen. he sent the picture and went back into the chat and started typing.

this answer your fucking question?

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

Note

stepdad!bakugo and his breeding kink hehe

cisjxjsjjx oh my god, it's all under the cut!! <3

cw: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, breeding, daddy kink. 18+ mdni / fem!reader

ever since meeting you - the young, pretty daughter of his new, albeit constantly busy wife - katsuki tries to make an impression by spoiling you rotten in all the wrong ways.

surprisingly, a huge chunk of it is with money.

at least at the start, that is.

having a salary so high he has no fucking clue on what to keep spending it on - katsuki had never really become a big fan of wasting his earnings on himself, after all; not even after he's entered his 40s - he consequently decides to buy you and your mother anything you want instead.

and really, he actually doesn't mean anything by it at the beginning. because, yes, katsuki might be a brute - a very brash one, at that - but he's also smart. clever enough to know that he should start building a relationship with his new stepdaughter as soon as possible, he understands that you're going to be seeing each other a lot from now on.

with him becoming your new stepdad, and with summer being just around the corner - the season that makes you come home from school to share a household you're not used to for a couple of months - and with a person you're not used to either - it's practically unavoidable.

all of that could bring tension, he knows that as well. so, trying to avoid the drama said tension could cause - the drama he doesn't want, mind you - katsuki shuts down your might-be tantrums with cash before they even get so much as a chance to erupt.

it starts off innocent enough. he buys you brand new textbooks and pays for your entire college tuition for the upcoming year. when you find out, he pretends to be nonchalant about it; rolling his crimson eyes and grunting that gruff, "it's whatever" as if his heart doesn't surprisingly jump the moment you throw your arms around his neck and press a fat kiss to his cheek as a thank you.

he's shocked at that. not because you're much more accepting about the entire stepdad ordeal than he's expected you to be, loving him already - surely because of his money, he suspects - but because the contact felt... good.

what's funny is that he doesn't like it when people touch him so unexpectedly like you'd done just now. he hates it, actually; outright despises it. and yet here he is... preening like a sucker.

for his stepdaughter.

so, keeping that good feeling in mind: he proceeds to spoil you even more as an attempt to make it linger. he tells himself it's all meant to keep you happy and 'bearable', but as the weeks go on, and his new wife - your mother - continues to remain absent because of her long business trips and late-night work hours; he starts buying you cute outfits, too.

outfits that he sees you scrolling through online on the new phone he got you at some point as well - all these short skirts and pretty summer dresses, oh my, what's not to love? and he sure does love them, so much that he even smirks when you jump around in glee and give him a little fashion show to show off how the new clothes fit you; the hearts in your eyes prominent whilst you twirl in front of him in the middle of his living room.

and then, it's not just about spending money anymore. he starts spending more time with you instead. by taking it easy at his job, using up his vacation days for the first time in years.

pretending it's just to get to know you better so there's no future bumps in the road that represents his marriage, he makes you breakfast, cooks you dinner. eats both with you. watches movies with you, if you tell him you want to have dinner in front of the TV. sometimes, if he's off work the next day, he even gets persuaded into sharing a bottle of wine with you.

just to take the edge off.

and then you start talking; more and more. in person, over text. your phone number soon becomes his favoured one; even more favoured over the one that belongs to his goddamn wife. he starts thinking about you a lot. obsessing over you a lot. fantasizing about you a lot. even late at night, when he should be asleep.

and goddammit, you crawl under his skin so quickly; find a way to creep into his dreams. the kind that end up not being proper at all, and that make his gaze linger on you in the morning. that make him tuck a curl of your hair behind your ear afterwards, and pat your cheek. that make him smile that crooked grin at you that you see so rarely.

and just like that: it's not all that innocent anymore.

because by the end of the month ever since you've come home from college; he's got you underneath him. just you and your big stepdaddy that likes to spoil you - like it's been for weeks on end.

just you and him: entangled in a mess of limbs right on the couch you make him watch shitty movies on when you want to eat dinner in front of the TV. just you and him: with your legs wide open and stretchy because of the wine you make him drink with you on nights when he doesn't have work in the morning. just you and him: completely naked; his big, scarred hands free to roam your skin that's been hiding underneath the dress he's bought you and that he's long since torn off of your body.

just you and him: fucking like you shouldn't.

raw.

he screws you deep and rough, the wine in his system making his face beet red during it. stretches and bullies your young pussy with his heavy cock; no protection present to keep him from feeling the full warmth of your velvety walls. until you're left squealing a series of broken, gasping pleas as you writhe on top of the couch, the occasional "daddy!" finding its way in-between all of the slutty moans that turn him outright delirious the moment he hears them leave your equally as slutty mouth.

so delirious, in fact, that he doesn't think straight, doesn't think of the consequences as he fills that young pussy right up after the second time it clenches around his dick and he feels your nails drag down his broad back - probably chipping the expensive manicure he's paid for, too. as he looks down and watches it leak his cum out when he pulls his hips back from your own slightly, making him groan something feral; head of ash blonde that's turning faintly grey at the temples tilting like an animal at the sight of the thick milky ropes to connect you both, bridging the narrow gap between your hot bodies.

it all makes him push back into you, actually - as messed up as it is. push as much of his seed right back into your tiny hole that keeps fluttering around his girth and sucking him in; persuading him to breed you some more, right after he collects himself and gets fully hard again, of course.

and the fucked up part is that he'll probably do just that. it's just too good, after all; you're just too good, too tight to resist. so eager and sugary; like a candy he never liked, but simply adores licking on now. his sweet little girl.

"call me that again, sweetheart," he rasps after a moment of thought, his voice breathless, forehead covered in caramel-scented sweat. his thrusts are slow and sloppy, but you can feel him starting to throb again. he's deep inside your belly - it hurts so good.

"call me daddy again, and i'll make sure to fuck your dumb little brains out."

#bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugou #cw stepcest #cw infidelity #biscuit drabbles

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lilbitdepressed27 · 8 months

Text

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Summary: AU no ghostface, takes place when they're in college

Warnings: none really

WC: 5.7k

Authors Note: don't really know where I was going with this one but I hope y'all enjoy :) sorry for any mistakes. Also kinda added some parts from one of my favorite shows :D

Everyone had been intimidated when they first saw you. You had transferred a few days late in the semester. Only by three days. When you had walked into the film study major class. The moment you stepped into the class you heard how quiet it got. You didn't want to take this class but it was either this class or a literature class. Your dad had wanted one class to be of his choice. You hated it but then again he was helping you pay for college.

You stood at 6'2 an athletic built from all your high school years playing basketball. Your dad had wanted you to continue playing but you had different plans. It was one of the reasons why he was so mad that he put you in a the film class. In a way to punish you.

But he wouldn't understand. After what happened, you couldn't go back to basketball. It was the main reason why, what happened to you last year happened.

Everyone looked your way but you kept a blank face. Giving a nod when professor motioned you to sit down. You felt the eyes on the back of your head but ignored everyone while you took your laptop out to take notes.

Ignoring the whispers that you heard.

You kept to yourself. At a very young age you've always been tall and a lot of people found that intimidating. It was even worse now that you had muscle. Anyone was too intimidated to come up to you. Until some guy sat down across from you. Though you did not want to be bothered but you were sitting at a table in the quad. You were able to get a table to yourself. The quad wasn't as crowded as you thought it'd be but there were still a few people around. Some empty tables. Which is why you didn't understand why this frat boy sat in front of you.

"Never seen you around sweetheart. Your freakishly tall but I can dig that. The name is Frankie. How about I show you around, could show you the Frankie train after if you want as well." He smirked at you, his overly inflated ego was what irked you.

"Oh you're mute? That's cool. Can't really say no then can you?" You looked at him with your face blank, but memories of what happened last year flashed though your mind. He reached forward but you gripped his and twisted it, your other hand reaching forward and slamming his head on the table extra hard for what he said. He yelped like a little bitch getting the attention of the people in the quad.

"One wrong move and I'll break your fucking hand. I'll give you one chance to walk away and leave me the fuck alone."

"Okay okay I'm sorry. Please let me go." He cried, his nose was bleeding from the slam and you felt satisfied at that. You pushed him away and let him go. He had fallen off his seat, he scrambled to his feet his face red with rage and embarrassment when he noticed everyone watching and some were laughing.

"You crazy fucking bitch."

You kept your straight face, he all but ran away and you continued with your work acting like nothing had happened. You kept on doing your work until it was time for your next class. After packing your things and heading to your class you saw a group sitting at a table looking your way. You spared them a glance your eyes connecting with chocolate brown eyes. She was beautiful. The most gorgeous girl you've ever seen. But you kept on walking.

After a long day of classes and your part time job you headed home. You had refused to share a dorm room with a stranger. So getting a apartment was the next thing you could do. The apartment was a solo room with a bathroom and good sized kitchen and living room. It was a great apartment and you loved it.

You walked into the building too see a man and woman kissing. But they quickly pulled away when you walked in. The man looked your way and gave you a slight nod. You returned the nod, the woman was pretty you can't deny. She looked up at you as you grew closer. Quickly making your way up the stairs towards your apartment.

"Hey you're the new chick." You looked up from your keys to see a pretty light skin girl with short hair. "Just wanted to say that you did every girl a favor today. The amount of times that asshole has tried something on every girl. It's insane. I'm Mindy by the way."

"Y-"

"Mindy hurry up I-Oh hi."

The same girl from earlier opened the door to see you. The beautiful brunette from earlier stood there. She was more beautiful up close. You took note of her freckles.

"Hi." You smiled slightly at the shorter girl. Your smile growing just a bit when you saw the blush. The brunette smiled at you, her blush still noticeable but she still seemed so confident.

"I'm Tara." Tara stepped forward of a smirking Mindy, holding out her hand for you to shake. Tara ignored her friend who been busy looking between the taller girl and herself.

"Y/n. Nice to meet you."

Tara just about melted to the floor when your hand engulfed her own. You were so tall. The way your eyes glimmered in the light was enough to hypnotize her. She looked up at you, liking the feeling of how you were looking at her. It made her feel warm inside. The sound of your name was so beautiful. You were so attractive. So handsome.

At the sound of clearing of the throat. You both jumped at the sound. Forgetting that Mindy was standing only a few feet away. You pulled away from Tara, you didn't want to but you also didn't want to seem like a creep.

"Well it was nice meeting you. But I have to start on my homework." You spoke, Tara mentally cooing at the sight of how red the tip of your ears got. The sight of the girl front of her now was a complete 180 from the girl she saw in the quad.

"Oh okay. It was nice to meet you as well." She spoke her eyes never leaving yours. It was like she hypnotized, she didn't want to move. She wanted to stay in your presence.

Tara looked at you from a distance. It had been a week since she met you. She had barely seen you around campus, the class she did have with you, you would always be the last one to show up (literally only seconds before the lecture started) and then you'd be the first one to leave the room. It was starting to get a little annoying.

Your once cold expression was back on your face. The gentle smile you showed her that day still plagued her mind. She watched how you ignored everyone especially the other jocks who have been on your ass for what you did to their running back. You didn't even look their way. This time she had sat in the chair where you regularly sit. Mindy sitting right beside her.

Her back straighten when she saw you walk in. With only seconds to spare. She watched as your eyes looked at her direction. Her heart hammering in her chest at seeing a little smile on your lips form. You walked to your chair and sat down right next to her. The chairs were so close to one another, that she got whiff of your perfume. You smelt so good. You looked so good. Your clothes fit you loosely. You had that baggy clothes aesthetic. The style fit you perfectly.

"Stop or you'll start drooling."

Tara felt her cheeks heat up bit as she nudged Mindy away from her.

"Hey."

The sound of your voice coming out in hushed whisper, seeing as the professor had already started his lecture. She couldn't help the smile that made it's way on her face. "Hi."

The class continued on and Tara spent most of her time sneaking glances towards you. Now that she was up close to you, she could take in your face features up close. Your eyes were a soft y/ec, she could also notice some light scars on your face. Now she wondered where you got them. Since she met you, you always wore clothes that covered your body. Long sleeves, sweaters, jackets. She couldn't help but to wonder why.

"You know you won't learn anything if you don't pay attention."

At the sound of your teasing voice her eyes widen a bit and she snapped her head back toward the professor. Her cheeks flaming red at the sound of your soft laugh and Mindy's laugh.

"Shut up. I was multitasking." She huffed, she had been caught ogling at you, feeling all of sudden hot and embarrassed.

This time after class you had packed your things slowly. Tara had done the same, Mindy had left right after to meet Anika. "So what class do you have next?" You asked as you stood up.

"I actually have some free time right now, what about you?" She hopped you also had some free time, cause she really wanted to be around you. She knew Sam wouldn't want her to be around someone she barely knows, alone. But there was just something about you that drew her in. Plus ghostface was gone. He had to be. Right?

"So do I. I go to the café not far from here to get something to eat while I study. You wanna come with?" You spoke in tome you hoped that didn't come off too hopeful. Your mom had told you not to trust people, you being too trustworthy was the reason you had almost died the year before. But there was just something about Tara that made you feel like you could trust her. The chances of the same thing happening to you again, was just low. Slim to zero. Right?

That's how your days were spent after your first few classes. They were spent with Tara and sometimes Mindy with her girlfriend Anika. You had met Chad who was Mindy's twin. Along with Quinn and Ethan who were also siblings. Meeting so many people at the same time had made you a little anxious but you tried not to show it.

But Tara had noticed. The way you'd sit at the corner of the booth. Your eyes never looking away from your drink for a long periods of time. Your drink always staying close your body. Or how you'd always keep your answers short. Tara was starting to think you didn't like being around people. It would explain why you always had that 'don't talk to me' look you'd always have.

Although you seemed to relax more when Tara would keep being around you. Tara couldn't explain why she wanted to be around you. But she did and she liked your company. The way you'd relax around her joke and laugh around her. It was something she looked forward to every day.

Four months into the friendship you had with Tara,she had told you what happened to her last year. You couldn't believe she went through that, her own best friend doing that to her. Now you understood why her sister was so protective of Tara. You couldn't blame Sam. Sam had been the girl you saw kissing that guy, that one day. She had recognized you as well but you had kept your mouth shut seeing as she was keeping her relationship a secret. She had been stand-offish towards you as well but you understood. Really you did. You had been the same with everyone else as well. You may be tall but that hadn't stopped anyone before.

You had wanted to tell Tara what happened to you as well but something had stopped you. It wasn't cause you didn't trust. You just felt like it wasn't the right time. She had just told you her trauma, she had cried while she told you. It didn't feel right to tell her yours. So you didn't.

Now you understood why people around campus always looked at Tara and her friends. You never really paid attention to any of them. The scar Tara had on her hand, you didn't question it either. Or the little limp Tara had as well. Sometimes you couldn't really tell she had a limp. It wasn't until you took her to a carnival. With doing a lot of walking, you were able to tell. Without really pointing it out, you had offered a piggy back ride. She laughed and agreed. You saw the small look of relief in her eyes. So you had spent quite a while with her on your back. You had been grateful you picked back up on your gym routine.

You really didn't know who she or her friends were. You never did like the Stab movies and not to mention you had your problems last year.

Now any time you planned something that included walking you made sure to take breaks. You didn't want Tara hurting herself. Now that you knew what had happened to her. You also tried your best to make sure she felt safe.

You were in your apartment now, you had just gotten back from work and had headed straight to take a shower. Tara had texted earlier that she'd be stopping by to take you to her apartment for movie night. You recently given her your spare key. So she'd let herself in.

It wasn't long till Tara had let herself in your apartment. You had been taking too long, everyone was just waiting for you now. She walked further into the apartment. Freezing in her steps when she saw that bathroom door was opened. Your back was to her, she could see your back muscles but what really drew her attention was the light scars on your back. But what really made her stop in her tracks was the tattoo you had your ribcage. It was right under your boob.

DOD92822

She looked at the date, remembering the day like it had been yesterday. It had been the day she had been attacked by ghos-Amber. It had been the day she had thought she was going to die. Why did you have the date tattooed on your body.

"Shit Tara you scared me. I'm almost ready." You had your long sleeve shirt on now, along with some loose shorts. You hadn't noticed how Tara was yet move or say anything as threw your hair up in a messy bun. Finishing your routine and heading out of the bathroom. You only stopped when you noticed the look on Tara's face.

"Hey you okay?" You looked at Tara, growing a bit concern when she didn't say anything. "Tar?"

"What's-What's that?"

You looked at her confused, you looked around to see what she could possibly mean. She walked towards you, placing her hand over your tattoo causing you to straighten up. Breaking your gaze from her to step back. You shuffled on your feet, you weren't sure how to say it.

"Y/n?"

"Have you ever heard of someone named Rosalind Dyer?" You spoke not looking at her just yet. It would be the first time you ever told anyone. You weren't sure if you'd be able to keep your eyes dry if you looked into Tara's eyes.

"The name sounds familiar." Tara didn't know where she heard that name from.

"She's a famous female serial killer. Well turns out she had an apprentice." You moved to sit on the chair. Tara moving to sit in front of you. Now she knew where she heard of that name. She had only been freshman when they had found the first victims of Rosalind Dyer.

"He had kidnapped a few girls and gave them tattoos, before he'd put them in barrels. He had succeeded in doing it to three girls. I had been out with friends at the time. You know we had just won our state championship, we had fake I.Ds. So we went to a bar. There I met Caleb. He had been so nice. Kept on telling me he was a scout ucla and I had believed him. He had so much proof that he was. While I was talking to him about basketball. He slipped something in my drink and the next thing I knew I was strapped on a bed while he gave me the tattoo. The tattoo represented the day of death. I was being put in the barrel, he didn't like how much I was fighting him. He had punched, kicked, sliced his knife at me to force me in. It was a miracle the cops showed up when they did." You finished you'd have felt so grateful for those two cops that saved you that day.

"Uh I still need to save enough money to have the tattoo removed." You mumbled, your eyes still refused to look at Tara.

"The day I told you about what happened to me. Why didn't you say anything. You let me cry on your shoulder. I could have comforted you as well." Tara hadn't heard of what happened down in L.A. She had been too busy focusing on what was going in on Woodsboro. Not knowing that you also were also close to death last year. Not only did you have scars from the day like she did. But you had been branded as well by the psycho killer. Branded by the worst thing that had ever happened to you.

"I didn't think it was the right time Tara. That day was about you."

Tara's heart broke at the sight of tears filling your eyes. It had been the first time you were really vulnerable in front of her. Everything you did now made sense. How you didn't drink if you were out in public, how you always went for bottled water in parties or sometimes not even drink anything. Or how you'd hold her drinks, one hand always covering the top. Or how she'd drunkly try to grab any cups of beer she could get. You'd always stop her. Remembering the small glimpse of fear in your eyes.

She reached for your hands. Taking them in hers.

"Hey. I'm here for you to. Always Y/n. You're stuck with me." She stood up, standing in between your legs as she wrapped her arms around your shoulder and pulled you in. She felt your arms wrapping around her waist. It was no time for her to let the butterflies in her stomach to go crazy. She wanted to show you the same comfort you showed her when she told you about Ghostface.

She wanted to be the one you felt safe around. Just like she felt safe around you. She felt you relax in her hold. She wanted to make sure you'd never feel like you couldn't tell her something.

"I'm assuming she told you."

Tara had stayed with you that night. She had held you like you held her that night she told you. You had fallen asleep on her chest and she couldn't help it but pull you closer. The following morning you had to go to your job and she said she had to go back to the apartment. So with a final hug, you both promised to see each other later.

At the sound of hearing her sisters voice as soon as she walked into her apartment had her jumping a few inches. "Jesus Sam. What the-Wait what do you mean told me? Told me what?"

Sam looked unsure now. If you didn't tell her about what happened, she'd be outing your own trauma and she didn't want to do that. She knew two of your secrets. The one had you pulling your drinks close to you and the one that had you blushing when ever she caught you staring too long at Tara.

"Never mind."

"No does it have to do with her living in L.A?" Tara was now confused cause if it does have what to do with that. How the hell did Sam know.

"Oh she did. Well come on Tara, of course I know. I had to know if she could be trusted. All I had to do was search up her name and a lot of articles from Los Angeles had her name in them." Sam had read a lot of articles and she was had gotten too much information. It was enough for her to feel horrible for reading so much about you. The picture they had of before you had gone missing, you had been so innocent looking. But then they showed one of how you looked after you were rescued. It really was heart wrenching.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Are you kidding. It wasn't my secret to tell. Although it wasn't really a secret, I'm sure she had her reasons. Just like we do. We have our own reasons why we don't go around telling people we survived Ghostface attacks." Sam trying to come to her own defense.

"Yea I know. I just want to be there for her. Like how she was there for me." Tara sat on a chair next to the table. Sam sighed and sat in front of her.

"Just keep doing what your doing Tara. I can tell she trusts you. And her trust is not misplaced. I'm positive yours isn't either. You both have been through something traumatic. Just be patient." Sam reached over and took her sister's hands in hers.

"I really like her Sam." Tara said her eyes filling with tears. Her emotions were all over the place. That fear she felt, the thought of never getting chance to meet you.

"Hey, she likes you to dumbass." At the sight of the bewildered look she got in return made her laugh.

"Really?"

"Geez you really are dumb. Have you not seen the girl. Cold towards literally everyone else but with you, huge softie. A girl literally flirted with her, talking about how cold she was and how she would love someone's jacket. The second you said you were cold, which I know you said it on purpose. She hands you her jacket." Sam rolled her eyes at the sight of Tara's sheepish blush.

"Trust me Tara she feels the same way."

Since you've told tara the truth she's been mostly the same. Just like how you became a little bit more protective of her after she told you about ghostface. She had also grown to be just bit mor as protective of you. Tara had always been affectionate but now she was holding your hand in public, hugging you, holding you. Her physical touch had your heart racing. You love Tara. You were sure, no you were positive that you are in love with her. You just didn't want your feelings to ruin what you hav with Tara.

You were sat in the corner of the library with Tara. You both had some free time, so in the mean time you both were goofing off. Holding laughs that made it even funnier when you would look at each other. You couldn't help to laugh as Tara turned red from trying to hold in her laughter. You needed to calm her down before she had an asthma attack. You could her wheeze as she laughed. You pulled out the spare inhaler you carried with you. You had Tara give you one, since you had a scare at the start of the friendship when she had an asthma attack didn't know what was happening until she took out her inhaler.

"Stop." You held back your laugh as you held out the inhaler for her to take.

Tara took the inhaler and used to it. Once she caught her breath she wiped the tears. She still had her giggles and she had been leaning on you from laughing so hard.

You felt your heart beat pick up just a bit when she leaned back into you. Her head resting on your shoulder. It had been a bit cold in the library while you both had started working on your assignments. So you had given her your hoodie for her to wear. You had your long sleeves underneath, you had seen the goosebumps on Tara's arms and you didn't want her to get cold. She had taken the hoodie with some eagerness and put it on. You smiled at the sight of your hoodie engulfing her in your clothing. Your hoodie was really big on her.

Tara had not been cold. She had gotten the goosebumps from how close you were. She had wanted to lean into your warm embrace. You had thought she was cold. And now she was surrounded by your scent. She had pulled the hoodie close to her body. You were totally not getting the hoodie back. It was so warm, so soft and just so you.

"So I've bee-There you two are. I've been looking everywhere. Don't make any planes for later. We've been invited to a party and we're all going." Mindy interrupted you. You deflated a bit knowing very well that Tara would want to go to the party. Even though Sam didn't like when she'd go out. You didn't either but you'd go to make sure Tara and her friends were safe.

It wasn't long till they were all in your apartment getting ready. It was a Halloween party, Tara had dressed up as a pirate and she had you dressing up as one as well. Although you were dressed more like Will Turner from Pirates of the Caribbean. You didn't want to but you agreed never the less when it came to

Tara.

"Oh you guys look so cute." Anika gushed from her seat as Tara fixed your hat. You blushed when Tara smirked your way, her eyes twinkling in the lights from your apartment.

"Nika take a picture of us." Tara handed her phone to Anika. She then moved back to you pulling your close. Her arms wrapped around your waist as your loved to around her shoulders pulling her closer.

Anika took the pictures and more. Smirking when she caught the moment when you looked down at Tara and Tara had looked back up at you. The moment being captured by Anika and she couldn't feel any more proud of herself.

The walk towards the party was pretty light. Tara stayed by your side, her fingers interlocked with yours. You stood tall next to her, just cause she had seen your softer side, didn't everyone else got to.

The party had already been in full swing by the time they arrived. You watched as tara served herself a drink and grabbed a bottled water for you. You tried to relax but you never really liked going to parties. You had told Tara you had to go to the bathroom. She nodded standing up to follow you. You sat her down with a hand on the shoulder.

"I'll be fine. Stay with Mindy I won't be long."

Even though tipsy, she hesitated to let you leave by yourself. She hated how over bearing Sam had become and she didn't want you to feel like that. She stayed in her seat watching you leave. She knew the line for the down stairs bathroom was long. So maybe you'd go upstairs. And you did. So you wouldn't last too long. She watched as you disappeared upstairs. She counted down the minutes, standing up to wait for you by the stairs. As she made her to the stairs, she was stopped.

"You're looking quite sexy Tara. Wanna go upstairs so I can show you my hook."

Tara groaned in annoyance. She had just about enough of the guy standing in front of her. He had tried so hard to get her attention the moment they moved to New York. She had done everything to avoid him. And he would stay when you were around. He wouldn't out right say it but was afraid of you. But there were times when she'd be alone and he'd try to talk her up.

"Leave me alone Frankie."

She moved to go around him but was stopped by his hand grabbing her wrist. He tried to lead her up stairs and she had been a little more tipsy than she had thought. Her balance was off and had fallen if the douche bag wasn't holding her.

"Hey man, Tara's good down here." Chad had reached for Tara's wrist but Frankie had pulled her away.

"Sorry bro I didn't catch that." Frankie took a step down he smug attitude in place.

You had been turning to walk down the steps, the bathroom upstairs also a line but wasn't as long as the one downstairs. You stopped right behind the guy that you had slammed his face on the table. You couldn't be bothered to remember his name.

"Yea you did. Now let her go." With being step or two above him you stood extremely over him. Your eyes went down to the wrist that the douche bag had a hold of. You saw the shift of his attitude the way he clenched his dad. The hold he tara tightening. The wince coming from tara was enough for your to react.

Making the finals steps to him as you moved stand between Tara and the frat boy. Your hand gripping the hand that held Tara's. "I said let her go."

With a mocking laugh he let go, you also let him go. You didn't think he'd do something else. But you were proven wrong, before you could even blink his left fist connected with your cheek. The force of the punch had caused you to lose your balance and fall down a few steps before Chad caught you.

"You fucking asshole."

You had heard Tara curse the guy out. But then it was followed by a loud groan and another person tumbling down the steps. Chad had moved you both out of the way of falling frat boy. Everyone in the party laughed at the boy as clutched on to his balls.

"Oh my god are you okay. Let me see." Tara had sobered up pretty quickly when you been punched. She had felt this, anger in her. She had never felt like this. But actually seeing you get hurt right in front of her had her seeing red. She moved with a purpose, to cause any type of pain towards Frankie. And that's what she did she made sure to use the tip of her heels. The satisfaction of seeing him cry in pain as he fell to the floor.

Seeing you standing there in shock and a hint of amusement in your eyes had her snapping her attention back to you. Cupping your cheeks to see the damage done on your pretty face. With the lights house being shitty she took your hand on hers, picking up your fallen pirate hat.

Once out side under a street light she stopped taking in your slightly red cheek bone.

"Ugh that asshole. I'm going to-Hey I'm okay. Are you okay? You were dragged upstairs. I should of have been there with you." You stopped her from talking. Feeling a little guilty for not stopping that douche bag.

"Hey it's not your fault. Frankie is douche and a total creep." Tara gently rubbed her thump over the redness of your cheek bone.

You couldn't help the smile and them a small laugh. "Man. His face was too funny when you went full on Messi on his balls." At the sight of Tara's proud smile you let out a full on laugh. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Man Tara that was awesome."

"Thank you thank you." She stated in a confident voice standing straight while wrapping her arm wound your waist. She had laughed as well, she was thankful that nothing today had brought any bad memories your way.

Her smile faltered a bit when she noticed how close both of your faces were. She had seen the moment you realized the closeness as well. Her skipping a beat at the sight of your eyes looking into her and then down to her lips. She moved a little closer, hoping she had read the signs right. She really hoped she did. Seeing you look back into her eyes with only inches keeping her lips off yours. The look in your eyes was enough for her to make the final move.

The moment her lips touched yours, was enough for her to die of happiness. Your lips had been as soft as they looked. The way you cupped her cheeks, she gripped your shirt in her fists pulling you as close as she could. She faintly taste your cheery chapstick and didn't know she could love cherry so much. Loving the way you held her. The way your lips moved against hers. The way your lips had dominated hers without even trying.

She smiled into the kiss, causing you to smile in return pulling away from the kiss.

"Wait you're not drunk are you. Oh my god I just too-Shut up. I'm not drunk and you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that." She smiled up at you. Her dimples on full display when you smiled back down at her.

From a distance Tara’s friends stood with happy smiles on their faces. It was about damn time that the two of you got together.

The two of you deserved each other.

#tara carpenter #scream #tara carpenter x reader #fem!reader

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beautification-tales · 4 months

Text

Late Bloomer

Penny often found herself standing in front of the mirror, examining her reflection with a critical eye. Her hair, dark and wavy, fell just past her shoulders; her eyes, a deep shade of green, were framed by long lashes. She had auburn freckles dotting the bridge of her nose, high cheekbones, and a mouth that was naturally curved into a frown. Her build was average; she wasn't thin, but she wasn't overweight either. She lived at home with her mother and often wondered if she was adopted.

Her mother, Janet, on the other hand, was nothing short of stunning. At the age of forty-five, she could easily pass for thirty. She had long, luscious hair that fell in perfect waves around her shoulders, and her deep brown eyes were framed by long, thick lashes. Her figure was enviable, with a tiny waist, full breasts, and hips that swayed whenever she walked. Even now, when Penny was in college and Janet had been a stay-at-home mom for years, men still turned their heads whenever she stepped out of the house.

It was almost every day that Janet brought a man home. Sometimes they were neighbors, other times they were colleagues, or even complete strangers she had met at the grocery store. It didn't matter who they were; they all seemed to be drawn to her mother's irresistible charm and beauty. Penny, on the other hand, often felt invisible in comparison. She knew she was pretty in her own way, but she couldn't help but feel like she was overshadowed by her mother's presence. Penny enjoyed the excuse of her studies as it let her out of the house. She couldn’t really study with the noises her mother and her “guest” would make all night.

Penny's life began to change when she met Roger at the school library. He was a classmate who was always fun to talk to, and they quickly became friends. They shared similar interests, like reading comics and anime, and they often found themselves spending time together outside of class. As they got to know each other better, Penny began to see herself through Roger's eyes. He thought she was beautiful and unique, and he made her feel special in ways that no one else could.

One day, Penny made the mistake of bringing Roger to her home. She was excited to show him where she came from and introduce him to her mother, but she hadn't expected the consequences. Janet came home dressed in a tight black dress as her ample bosom shook with each step as her ankle boots hit each step. Penny could see Roger gulp as he eyed her mother with a look that Penny had seen so many times before.

“Well, well, well look what little Penny brought home.” Janet said as she approached them on the couch.

Roger jumped up and offered his hand to shake. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Johnson."

Penny's eyes widened at the mention of her mother's last name. It was the first time anyone had called her by that name since she was a little girl. "Mom, this is Roger. We've been friends for a while now," she said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Well, Roger, it's nice to finally meet you," Janet said, her voice low and seductive. She placed a hand on Roger's arm, as Roger smiled . Penny couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. "I understand you two have been studying together a lot lately. How nice."

"Yeah, we've had some pretty interesting discussions," Roger replied, not taking his eyes off Janet.

Penny felt her heart sink as she watched the interaction between her mother and Roger. She knew exactly where this was going, and she didn't want it to happen. But she didn't know how to stop it. As the conversation continued, Janet leaned in closer to Roger, laughing at something he said. Penny could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed nervously.

“Little Penny has always been a shy girl. She hardly talks to boys unless you count Naruto or any of those Anime characters on the tv she’s always watching.”

Penny’s face grew red with embarrassment as Janet talked about her. “Mom! Really?” She protested.

Janet gave Penny a knowing smile. "Oh, don't worry, dear. You know your mother only has your best interests at heart." She reached over and gave Penny's cheek a soft pat. "Now, why don't I give you two some privacy.”

“ Ms. Johnson you don’t have to go. I mean I would like to hear more embarrassing stories.”

Roger's words cut through Penny like a knife. She felt a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal. How could he want to hear more about her mother? Wasn't he supposed to be her friend?

“Oh no, unfortunately I have a date tonight. So I better get going but Roger… you can call me Janet.”

Penny felt her anger rising as she watched her mother saunter away, making sure to sway her hips just enough for Roger to get a good view. She wanted to scream, to hit something, to make this all stop. But instead, she turned to Roger and felt a lump forming in her throat. "Roger, I-I thought you would be different.”

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw regret flicker across his features. But then he smiled, a sad, forced smile that did nothing to reassure her. "I am different," he said, his voice quiet. "But Penny, I'm also a guy. And, well... your mom is like remarkably hot. It's kind of hard not to notice."

“Yeah, trust me every guy notices and it pisses me off. Now you can see why I don’t talk to guys!” Penny felt a rage that had been building inside her finally explode within her as tears began to roll down her face.

Roger looked conflicted as he glanced at her, then away. Finally, he moved closer, taking her hands in his. "Penny, I'm sorry. I really like you and trust me I notice you.”

Penny smiled believing Roger’s words she leaned forward and kissed him.

Her heart beat faster as they continued to kiss. She could feel the heat between them, and it seemed to intensify with each passing moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in the sensation of his lips on hers, his hands tangled in her hair. It was as if they were the only two people in the world, and nothing else mattered.

As their lips parted, she looked into his eyes, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something shift within him. His pupils were dilated, his skin flushed. It was as if she'd unleashed something primal inside him. She felt a thrill of power course through her veins, and she knew that she was the one who'd done it.

Penny’s eyes began to glow as she inhaled Roger’s breath. Penny didn’t notice as her body instinctively breathed in the air. They stopped kissing as Penny continued to suck the air from Roger’s lungs. Roger in a trance continued to exhale but in a moment he collapsed as Penny became aware of her surroundings.

She released Roger and gasped as she looked at him on the floor. However, before she could tend to him , she felt a burning sensation all over her body. It started as a tingle, but quickly grew into an all-consuming fire. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. Her limbs felt heavy, and her vision blurred. She could feel her skin begin to char and peel, revealing raw, bloody flesh beneath.

The pain was excruciating, and she thought that she was dying. But it was then the pain subsided as she felt her skin heal revealing tan unblemished skin. The transformation no longer felt painful as her body felt brand new in this new skin.

Her breasts felt fuller and heavier as they strained against the fabric of her shirt. She could feel them still growing as buttons popped off her shirt making room for her new bosom. She felt her hips widen, and her ass grow rounder. She glanced down at her hands, marveling at the softness of her new tan skin and the delicate length of her fingernails. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she could swear it felt thicker and more lustrous.

She felt the pleasure within her grow as unable to fight the feeling her hips began to gyrate as if she was giving a lap dance to a lucky patron. Penny’s moans filled the home rousing Roger to consciousness. Her voice began to shift to a melodic tone. She picked up speed as her thighs got even thicker and her ass even juicier. She looked back in joy as she felt her tongue roll out of her mouth.

Her eyes shifted to Roger as he looked at her with awe. His eyes traced her body as if he was seeing her for the first time. Penny's heart fluttered as she saw the desire in his eyes. She wanted to please him, to make him feel the way she felt. She moved closer to him, her breasts brushing against his chest.

Her scent, a heady mix of jasmine and feminine musk, filled his nostrils, making it difficult for him to think straight. His hands reached up, cupping her breasts through her shirt, feeling their weight and fullness. She arched her back, pushing her chest further into his hands.

Her hips continued to move in a hypnotic circle, her ass cheeks slapping against his thighs as she ground herself against him. He could feel his arousal growing, straining against his pants. His gaze dropped lower, taking in the curve of her spine, the roundness of her ass, the softness of her skin.

Penny moaned, the sound vibrating against his chest as she arched her back even further. Her breasts spilled free from her shirt, their fullness pressing against his chest. He cupped them, feeling their weight in his hands, before running his thumbs over her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her.

Her movements grew more urgent, her hips undulating faster as she ground herself against him. Her skin glistened with sweat, her cheeks flushed. He could see the desire in her eyes, the need for him to touch her, to make her feel good.

He moved his hands to her hips, guiding her as she continued to grind against him. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each breath. He could feel his own control slipping, the need to be inside her growing stronger with each passing moment.

With a swift motion, he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and freed his aching erection. Penny moaned loudly, the sound filling the room as she took in the sight of him, hard and ready for her. He pulled her shirt off over her head, revealing her soft, tan skin. Her breasts, full and round, spilled free from her bra, her nipples hard and peaked.

She reached down, taking him in her hand, stroking him gently at first before wrapping her fingers around him and beginning to stroke faster, her movements in perfect rhythm with her hips. Roger gasped, feeling the pleasure coursing through him as he watched her touch him, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her breasts swayed with each breath, brushing against his chest as she moved closer, their nipples teasing him. Her hips gyrated, her ass cheeks slapping against his thighs, driving him wild with desire. He could feel the head of his cock brushing against her wetness, and with a groan, he pushed her back onto the bed, burying himself inside her in one powerful thrust.

She cried out, arching her back as he filled her completely. Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on as their hips met in a frenzied rhythm. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each breath as she looked up at him, their eyes locked in a passionate gaze.

Roger felt his control slipping further away with each thrust, each moan that escaped Penny's lips. He leaned forward, burying his face in her neck, inhaling her scent as he savored the feel of her body moving beneath him. His hips pumped harder, faster, driving deeper inside her with each stroke.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his back, urging him to go faster, harder. He obliged, feeling the pleasure building within him, the pressure growing in his groin. He could feel his release building, the urge to empty himself inside her overwhelming.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, their breaths mingling as they gasped for air. Roger's thrusts grew more frenzied, his hips slamming into her with unbridled passion. Penny arched her back off the bed, her eyes clenched shut as she felt the waves of pleasure wash over her.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on, begging for more. Her legs squeezed tight around his waist, her body tensing as she neared her own release. Roger could feel it building within her, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust. He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples between his lips, sucking hard as he continued to drive into her.

Their skin slapped together, their sweat mingling as they moved together in perfect rhythm. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each ragged intake of air. His own breaths grew labored, his hips thrusting harder, faster. He could feel the end approaching, the inevitable release building inside him.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching off the bed, her breasts flushed and peak. Her legs squeezed tight around him, her muscles tensing as she neared her own climax. With a moan that escaped deep from her throat, she came, her body tensing and shuddering beneath him.

Roger felt the tension in her release, the wave of pleasure that passed through her, and with a groan, he gave in to his own release, thrusting deep inside her one final time. His hips bucked, his body tensed, and he let out a hoarse cry as he emptied himself inside her.

Their bodies trembled together, their hearts racing, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. They collapsed in each other arms oblivious to their surroundings.

They were awakened by a returning Janet giggling with her new boy toy for the night.

"Penny! Roger! In the living room?”

Roger's eyes snapped open, and he realized they were still in the same position they had been in before their passionate interlude. Penny's head was resting on his chest, her hand lazily tracing circles on his stomach. He gently prodded her awake. "Umm... Penny?" he whispered.

She lifted her head and smiled drowsily at him. "Hmm?"

"Your mom is home!”

“Penny did you fuck in the living room?”

Penny giggled, nuzzling back into Roger's chest. "Not exactly, Mom. We were just..." She trailed off, blushing deeply. "Um, we were just talking."

Janet's voice grew louder as she walked down the hall, the sound of her footsteps drawing closer. Penny closed her eyes, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "Oh, God," she whispered. "She's going to kill us."

Roger chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. "I don't think she'll kill us," he said. "But she might be a little upset." He rolled off her, and pulled his pants and underwear.

Penny stood up now taller and curvaceous. Janet stopped in her tracks as she examined her daughter.

"Well, well, well. Look at you two. Did you have fun in here?" she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and disapproval.

“It’s about time you finally transformed Penny.”

#beautification #transformation #breast expansion #f2f transformation #bimboification #origin stories

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