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#and this is me trying not to feel so guilty about that
luveline · 3 days
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would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3
ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k
cw suggestive content
“Is that okay?” he whispers. 
You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 
Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 
He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 
Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 
He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 
“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 
“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 
“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 
You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 
You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 
There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 
“I really am sorry, Pete.” 
His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 
“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 
“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 
“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”
“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 
“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 
“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 
“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 
“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 
You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 
“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 
“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 
“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 
“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 
“From that statue on ESU?” 
“What? How would I do that?” 
“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 
You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 
“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 
You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 
Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 
“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  
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haetrack · 23 hours
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"girl who is going to be okay" back with the hard hour!
i know you tend to write more dominant and sexier y/ns (which i think are chef's kiss, esp the doms) but when it comes to jaemin for some reason i always imagine him with a less experienced y/n.
he wants to be oh so sweet to you, taking his time by slowly dragging his cock through your warm walls, his head nuzzled in your neck, but you just won't stop squeezing around him out of nervousness. idk why but the image of a man trying his hardest to restrain himself from going the pace that he wants, having to come to a still multiple times while all the way inside you to just take a breather and calm down, is just so hot?
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jaemin x afab!reader
wc: 6.4k
warnings: pwop LOL, established relationship, inexperienced reader, desperate jaemin, dry humping, fingering, praise, oral, protected sex, soft dom!jaemin, sub!reader
a/n: don't ask me what happened... i lost the fight against jaemin brainrot...
-
jaemin has been trying to control himself recently.
he’s always been more cautious with you knowing that you still get shy around him. he asks if he can kiss you, softly placing his lips on yours. his hands never grip too tight around your waist, and they never wander down too far. unless it’s you who’s initiating the touching, he’ll keep his hands to himself to stop the need to hold you tight against him.
even if he wants to.
it’s been an ongoing struggle recently. he doesn’t know why, but he’s been filled with the need to have your warm walls around his length. on the late nights where you’re not there with him, he’s left alone to fuck his fist, imagining it’s you wrapped around him. he’d be so good to you, taking care of your every need.
he knows that he’s supposed to take it slow with you. you opened up to him saying that you were more inexperienced and that you were open to trying things with him. you just wanted to take it slow, you weren’t in a rush. he obviously respected your opinion, but he can’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind.
all he could manage was a soft smile and a press of his lips onto yours. he couldn’t wait to have you how you wanted.
-
jaemin wants you to come onto him. he doesn’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for yet. 
it’s one night where you’re both watching a movie. you’re cuddled up into his side, trying hard to pay attention to the movie playing in front of you. you’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but you can’t stop thinking about jaemin. he’s not doing anything, his hand is smoothing over your side as he watches the movie. 
you keep thinking of your words from the other day. you were the one who suggested going slow, but as you’re sitting next to him now, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to hold up your words. you don’t know how to bring it up. you’re not even sure what exactly it is that you want.
you can feel heat building up in your body, your cheeks growing hot the more time you spend at jaemin’s side. you bury your head into his shoulder, and jaemin coos at the sight of you. you almost feel guilty for feeling so… like this while he has no idea. you can feel frustration build up inside you, tears threatening to prick at your eyes as you want something you’re not even used to.
you accidentally let out a soft whine, immediately slapping a hand around your mouth. you pull away from jaemin, your shocked eyes looking into his. he looks more worried than anything, his eyes scanning all across your face as he asks, “are you alright, angel? is anything wrong?”
he watches as you shake your head no. for a moment, he’s worried for you, his hands moving to hold yours as he checks over you. he’s quick to realize how your thighs are squeezing together. it’s easy for him to pick up what’s wrong with you. there’s a small smile on his face when he puts one of his hands on your cheek, “you feel hot. you need to tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.”
judging by how he’s looking at you, you can tell he probably already knows what’s wrong. you let out a shaky breath, unable to come up with any words. his thumb rubs softly into the skin of your cheek as you nuzzle into his touch. you take a deep breath before you speak, “i… i need your help, jaemin.”
he tilts his head, “with what?”
“w-want you to… touch me.” before he can do anything, you reach for his hand, placing it softly onto your thigh. he stares at it, squeezing lightly as he feels around. he’s touched you before, but there’s a difference between now and the quick, soft touches that he usually lays onto you. you’re asking him to touch you in a voice he’s never heard from you before.
he calls out your name, getting your attention as he stares into your eyes. you slowly move toward him, softly placing your lips onto his. that’s all he needs, your confirmation as he molds his lips against you. his hands hold your face, keeping you still as your hands stay on the couch. one eventually makes it to his thigh, lightly touching it like he touched you earlier.
he lets you pull away from the kiss to take a breath. he finds himself slightly out of breath, too caught up with the feeling of your lips. he wants to feel you closer to him, despite you sitting right by him. he clears his throat, “can i try something?”
you whisper out a yes. he tells you to stand up as you watch him get more comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs apart. he looks up at you, patting his thighs, “come and sit down.”
the initial nervousness comes back as you feel more heat bloom in your face. your hands squeeze into fists as you debate on what you should do. it doesn’t last long, though. there’s a need for you to be close to him, to have him hold you as you kiss him. you want to feel the heat of his body against you as he kisses you.
you move slowly as you settle yourself on top of his thighs. it’s not uncomfortable, but you’re nervous to have him this close to you. he’s smiling at you, his hands sliding up on your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. he bats his eyelashes at you, “do you still want to kiss?”
nodding, you learn forward to press your lips onto his. you’re mindful of how you’re sitting on him, not wanting to put all your weight down on him. he’s quick to run his hands down your sides, getting you to fully sit down on him. 
he hums against you, gripping down onto your waist. he has you so close, and he can feel how warm you are against him. his tongue darts out, licking at your bottom lip. you open up slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. it’s different from the soft kisses he gives you, and you welcome it as you move your tongue against his.
a soft whine escapes you, and before jaemin can try to get you to make that sound again, you instinctively roll your hips down onto his thigh. jaemin lets out an internal groan, swearing that he could feel you clench on top of him. all he’s done is kiss you and you’re already worked up. you move to get closer to him, your chest against his as he presses a hand to your back.
you roll your hips down, small noises escaping your mouth as you chase any type of friction you can get. your hands make it onto his shoulders for support as you mindlessly grind against him. 
jaemin can feel himself getting hard from the way you’re moving on top of him and from the way you’re whimpering in his mouth. he grabs your hips, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. you don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against his thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.
jaemin starts, “when you move like that on top of me…”
“it feels good for you, too?” 
he nods, smoothing his hand over your back, “i think i could cum just like this. whatever you do, angel, i like.”
you gasp at his words, feeling his hands snake around to your back, moving you forward against him. he lets out a swear at the feeling, moving his hands to your waist as you grind down. there’s a newfound desperation in your movements knowing that jaemin feels just as good as you feel, that you’re making him feel this way. 
you’re on top of him, rolling down your hips in a way that seems too out of character for you. the shy, reserved self that you show to him is gone, replaced with the need to get yourself off with him. you’re using him, pants of his name fan across the skin on his neck as his hands wander a little further down.
he’s no better than you. he’s letting out low grunts as his hips roll up to meet yours. his hands finally make it to your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he lets out a curse. there’s been too many times he’s had to stop himself from doing this, his hands moving a little rougher against you. he helps you roll your hips down onto him, grinding you down onto his tip.
he could easily flip you over, could pull down your shorts and panties and rut against your leaking pussy. but he can’t, choosing to be content with how he has you now. he grits his teeth, pushing away the thoughts as he hears you let out a whimper of his name. he asks with a low voice, “angel, do you feel like you might cum?”
you don’t answer right away, your whines and whimpers filling the air as you try to process what he said. you can feel him twitching under you, rolling his hips up against yours. your head falls to his shoulder, “jaemin, i need… i need to cum!”
his hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. it doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. seeing you so desperate to cum pushes him over the edge, cum staining his boxers as he ruts his hips up.
there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, heavy breaths filling the air as you collect yourselves. his arms wrap around your back, pulling you into a hug. you smile against his shoulder, your arms trying their best to wrap around his slumped figure on the couch.
it doesn’t take you long to start whining, “i’m hot and sticky all at the same time, jaemin. i think we might need to move.”
he murmurs against you, “let me hold you a little longer, angel. i liked this so much.”
“i did, too,” you press a kiss to his skin, “and as much as i did, i need to shower.”
a laugh fills the space between the two of you, “of course.” he pulls away from you, watching as you stand up on wobbly legs. to your embarrassment, he moves to walk you to the restroom, ignoring your complaints. 
-
jaemin thought that maybe just that once, you would act out on your instincts.
he noticed that you let him be a bit more touchier. he didn’t want to push anything, but he let his hands linger on you a lot longer than they used to. you didn’t even shy away when he would, you’d let his hands stay where they want to be. you’re the same, you kiss him more openly; you try teasing him a bit more, too. 
he likes seeing you be more open with him, likes seeing you feel more confident in your love. he’ll do anything you want him to if it means he can make you feel more comfortable. 
it’s another day that he’s at his apartment with you. you’ve had more time to come over, more time to spend with your boyfriend. he doesn’t expect anything because he has to remind himself: you want to take it slow. he doesn’t mind, he loves spending time with you regardless.
he doesn’t really expect you to come to him that day while he moves you both to his bedroom, a shy look as you approach him, “jaemin…”
he smiles at you, “hey, angel. what is it?’
“can we… can we do what we did the other day again?’
“what do you mean? what did we do exactly?”
you’re not dumb to not notice his sly smirk, a cat-like grin growing on his face. he knows exactly what you mean, but he’s trying to get you to say it. your face heats up, murmuring out words that you can’t even understand.
he moves to sit on the corner of the bed, his head tilting at your mumbled words. he reaches his arms out towards you, “you’re gonna have to tell me what it is that you want, baby. can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
without much thinking, you move to sit down on jaemin’s thighs. he didn’t expect you to move like that on your own, shown by how his breath hitches in his throat. his hands don’t hesitate to move to your waist, bringing you closer to him before they drop to your thighs. his thumbs move to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, causing you to shiver on top of him.
he chuckles at the sight of you, likes how your shorts have ridden up, giving him all access to your thighs. he pushes you right on top of his bulge, and slowly grinds you down on top of him, “i had my baby waiting for too long, hm? i should’ve known you needed me, right?”
you’re already feeling dizzy from his words, trying to grind down on him already, trying to chase the feeling from before. his hands stop you, though, keeping you in place. he bites back a groan when he feels you squirm on top of him, “won’t you tell me how much you needed me?”
your voice comes out breathy, “i- couldn’t stop thinking about you. i tried touching myself, but… it just didn’t feel right without you.”
jaemin’s grip on you gets tighter, his eyes shutting at the thought. imagining you stuffing your hands in your shorts, trying to make yourself feel just as good as he made you feel. he lurches forward, caging you in a heated kiss. he can feel you try to keep up with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you do.
he can feel how desperate you are, no restraint shown in how you moan into his mouth. you’re more unrestrained, and he loves it, loves how he’s made you like this. he’s just as needy as you are, probably even more than you are. he’s the first one to start moving, his hips grinding up into yours. he’s practically using you like a toy, groaning in your ear at the feeling.
his grip loosens, allowing you to move with him. you drag your clit along his hardening cock, clenching around nothing as jaemin peppers kisses along your shoulder. it feels just as good as last time, but you can't help but feel like you’re missing something. you want him, you need him to help you make you feel good. “jaemin, i-” you whimper, “i w-want more, please.”
he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding up to you, focusing on your words, “what do you want me to do?”
you grab one of his hands, looking at his fingers before placing it back at your inner thigh, “i-i want you to touch me. like how i tried touching myself.”
jaemin’s head tilts back, eyes shutting at your words. you can feel him twitch under you, his hands balling at his sides. he takes a breath before refocusing on you, “can you stand up for me?”
you do, moving off of him, immediately whining when you’re not close to him. he shushes you lightly when he rests against the headboard of his bed, his legs spread, eyes filled with need as he looks at you. “come here, angel. i’ll make you feel good.”
you crawl over to him, and as you’re about to face him, he turns you around so that your back is towards him. he pulls you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder as he coos at you, “can you take off your shorts for me, baby?”
you’re a bit shy, but do so nonetheless. you struggle, too eager for him to continue. he watches you, eyes zeroing in on the expanse of skin being exposed to him. this is the most he’s ever seen of you, and you’re not even fully undressed. without thinking, he says, “you’re so pretty, angel. so pretty, just for me, hm?”
you’re quick to agree, your back pressing against his chest. you can feel his cock twitch under you, and it makes you more eager. his fingers leave featherlight touches along your thighs, inching close to where you need him most. he hums in your ear, “needed me to feel good, couldn’t touch yourself without my help. you’ll let me help you, right?”
you let out a whine at his words, squirming on top of his lap to get him to continue. he lets out a low chuckle, “my eager baby, i’ll make you feel good. just be patient.”
his fingers trace circles on your inner thighs, enjoying the small noises you let out at his teasing. you don’t try to rush him anymore, trying your best to stay still on his lap. you’re biting down on your lip when his fingers rest on the edge of your panties. he’s sitting there, so close to your heat while pressing kisses to your neck, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.
“jaemin, please touch me. i wanna know how it feels.”
he traces his fingers along your clothed slit. he immediately lets out a shaky breath when he does, realizing just how wet you are from the little touches he’s offered you. you’re like this because of him, and he knows you’ve never felt like this for anyone else. he’ll make sure you’ll never want anyone to do this to you.
“you’re dripping, angel,” his fingers press against your clit, “is it all for me?”
you gasp, hips twitch at the feeling, “y-yes! all for you, please keep going.”
he can’t say no when you ask so nicely, your sweet voice taking over all of his thoughts. his middle finger makes slow circles on your clit, enjoying the way whimpers easily begin slipping out of you. you hold onto his arm for support, your hips trying to rut up in his touch, unknowingly trying to gain more stimulation.
his other hand that’s not touching you pries your leg open, keeping it from trying to shut around his hand. you’re so sensitive, responding to the light touches with high pitched moans, whimpers of his name rolling off of your tongue. he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding into your ass, biting the inside of his cheek when he can feel himself twitching. 
he knows you need more when your nails begin to dig into the skin of his arms. his arm has a hard time trying to keep your legs open for him, caught up in all the sensitivity of his touches. you break when he speeds up the circles on your clit, “j-jaemin, hold on! i might- i might cum!”
“isn’t that what my angel wants?”
you feel embarrassed asking, but if you don’t tell him, he’ll never know, “can we… i wanna feel your fingers on me- or in me.”
jaemin’s head tilts back onto the headboard, all of his restraint lost at your words. “i’ll help you, wanna show you just how good you can feel. is that okay with you?”
“yes… please, jaemin.”
his fingers move to pull your panties to the side, exposing your dripping pussy to him. he bites down on his lip again to contain the moan that threatens to slip out. he can look over and see how wet you are for him, how you’re on display for him. “my angel has the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” he lets out a breath at the whimper that comes from you, “so needy just for my fingers.”
you let out a whine, your hips bucking into the air as you try to search for any friction. he finally gives in, two fingers moving to circle at your clit. you melt immediately, head lolling onto his shoulder, loud whimpers filling the air. he mumbles in your ear, “wanna get you all wet for me before i try fingering you, okay?”
“please keep going.”
he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, fingers speeding up on your clit. he can feel you begin twitching on top of him, legs threatening to close on his hand. you try to keep yourself spread open for him. jaemin’s other hand slowly trails up your body, reaching under your shirt to one of your boobs. he groans when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, fingers meeting a hard nipple.
with jaemin’s fingers on your clit and tugging on your nipple, it doesn’t take long for you to begin dripping all over the sheets. your moans have raised in pitch, calling out to him, begging him for more. “you’re ready for my fingers, angel? wanna feel them inside you?”
a moan of his name slips out of you, pleading for him. he plants a kiss on your shoulder, licking at the spot right after, “of course, baby. gonna take it slow for you.”
his hand slides down, his middle finger making it to your entrance. he shushes you when you start squirming, his finger slowly sliding inside you. it feels different, but good. your legs shut around his hand, and he lets it happen as he watches in awe. you’re so tight, he thinks. he wonders how he’s gonna fit himself inside of your tight pussy.
the thought makes him twitch in his pants, bringing himself back to the task at hand. your legs slowly open back up, your hips rolling in time with the movements of his finger. he didn’t expect to see the sight of you like this this fast. you let out a moan, “wan’ another finger, jaemin.”
“angel’s ready for another?” his ring finger moves to your entrance, slowly entering inside along with his middle finger. he can feel you tightly clench around his fingers, letting out a cry when his palm rubs against your clit. it’s too much, the sensation bringing you quickly to the edge. it’s only intensified when jaemin curls his fingers inside you, finding a spot inside you the sends shocks along your spine.
“feel good, baby?”
you can barely hear him, thighs beginning to shake as he presses he continues presses his fingers against your sweet spot. you’re falling apart quickly, his fingers plunging deep inside you as his other hand moves back to your boob, groping at the flesh. you let out a sob, “gonna cum, jaemin. wanna cum so bad!”
“yeah, gonna cum all over my fingers? go ahead and cum, pretty.”
your head falls back onto his shoulders, a wail leaving you as you cum, clenching on his fingers. his watches you intensely, watches how you’re left a mess because of him. he gives up on keeping your legs open, liking just how much you show how good he’s making you feel. 
he leaves kisses along your neck, his hand thumbing over your nipple and his palm slowly rubbing into your clit. you ride out your orgasm, letting out a squeak when the stimulation feels a little too much. he removes his hands from you, choosing to wrap them around you as he whispers in your ear, “did so good for me, angel. loved watching you fall apart because of me.”
while you’re coming down from your high, jaemin subtly brings his fingers that are wet with your slick to his mouth. he almost wants to moan around his fingers, realizing that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. he likes the taste of you on his tongue so much, realizing he might just have to do more than finger you next time.
your breaths begin to even out, your mind becoming clear from the haze you were in. you can feel jaemin nuzzle into your neck, but more importantly, you can feel his dick press into your backside. he’s still hard, and you realize he hasn’t cum yet.
jaemin watches as you slowly turn your body to face him, sliding down to your knees. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, your dazed eyes following his every move. your head moves to rest on his knee, looking up at him with a pretty smile on your face, “are you gonna teach me how to make you feel good?”
he follows your hand that trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his bulge. his angel wants to make him feel good. his hand cups your cheek, thumb sliding across your skin, “gonna be good for me, baby?”
-
over the course of a few weeks, jaemin has been seeing a change in you.
you’re more touchy now, easing into his side as you cuddle on the couch. you don’t shy away when he touches you either, choosing to go along with his antics. you tease him, a playful smile on your face when you let yourself sit on his lap.
now, you try to initiate more intimate acts with him. you’re still a little nervous, jaemin helping you along the way as you lay back onto his bed, fingers moving inside you. you always return the favor, jaemin liking the way you look with his cock in your mouth way too much.  he’s also had the time to eat you out, easily folding when you ask him to use his mouth one day.
which is how he finds himself today, harshly sucking on your clit while his fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. your whimpers and moans fill the air, almost covering up the lewd sounds of jaemin eating you out. every time he does this, he acts like a man starved, licking at your entrance just to get a taste of your slick.
one of his hands makes it to your boob, kneading at the flesh just to get you to moan out for him, just to feel you clench harder around his fingers. you whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, his tongue moving to lap at your hole. what’s different is that his tongue slips in, pressing into your hole.
your hips jut into his face, his nose rubbing against your clit. it feels so new, and it sets off a desire in you. your mind is now needing to be filled up with something more, something that jaemin can easily provide to you.
one of your hands wraps around the one on your boob, moving to interlock his fingers with yours. you can feel him smile against you, speeding up his movements. you call out to him weakly, getting his attention as he hesitantly moves away from your pussy. you try to ignore how his mouth and chin are wet, his low voice asking, “what is it, baby?”
you try to put yourself together, your voice coming out shaky when his other thumb rubs against your clit, “i-i’m ready.”
“ready to cum? i’ll make sure you do.”
before he can plunge back to your cunt, you call him once more, “not for that! well, to cum, but… i think i’m ready to have sex with you.”
at lightning speed, he sits up, eyes bulging out of his head, “really? are- are you sure? it’s not too soon?”
“no,” you smile, “i-i mean, i trust you. i trust you to, um, take care of me.”
he watches as shyness takes over you, avoiding eye contact as you talk. there’s a soft smile on your face, your words being genuine. “you should’ve told me so i could’ve made today more special,” he nags, “i could’ve had a whole day with you, angel.”
you let out an airy laugh, “any time i get to spend with you is special, jaemin.”
he huffs, “if you say you’re ready, then you’re ready. if at any point in time you want me to stop, i’ll stop. we can do anything you want, just say the word.”
“want this, jaemin. want you.”
he lets out an affirming okay, quickly sliding off of the bed in order to take his sweats off, choosing to leave his boxers on for now. he quickly rejoins you, “i’m gonna finger you some more, alright, baby? wanna make sure that you’ll be nice and ready for me.”
you nod, choosing to sit up a little more as you watch two of his fingers slide into you. you’re still so wet, his fingers easily plunging inside you. he scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. his thumb hooks around to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that has your head lolling back. 
“doesn’t take long for you to get ready for me, hm? my baby just needs my help, right?’ his words shoot straight to your core, pushing you close to cumming. he can feel you clench tightly, adding a third finger as he continues. 
you tell him that you’re close, whining that you want to cum with him instead. he smiles at you, cooing, “want you to cum now, then i’ll know that you’re ready to take my cock.”
you immediately let go, cumming all over his fingers. he knows what sets you off now, how to get you to cum quickly with just a few motions. he grins at the sight of you, “so good for me, my baby is so good for me.”
you swat him away when he tries continuing, a small laugh leaving him as you do. his hand smoothing over your thigh calms you, bringing you back to look up at him with a certain look. he bites down on his lip when you speak, “i think i’m ready- think i’m ready for you, jaemin.”
“yeah?” jaemin tries not to sound nervous himself, “my baby needs me already?”
you nod, covering your face in embarrassment at his words. it’s even more embarrassing when you ask, “you have c-condoms, right?”
he reaches over to his nightstand, fishing one out from the bottom of his drawer. since he started dating you, he hasn’t found the need to buy anymore. he thanks his past self for leaving just a few behind, he would’ve died if he had to say no to you now. a bright smile shines on his face when he shows it to you, laughing at you when you look at it weirdly.
“wanna watch me put it on?”
you laugh at his words, thanking him internally for trying to lighten the mood.
as jaemin slides the condom on, he realizes he wants this just as bad as you do. he notices how his chest is heaving with every breath he takes, and he’s not even inside you yet. his eyes glance up towards yours, looking back at him, pleading for him to just do something. “i’m gonna start moving. angel, need you to tell me if i need to slow down or stop moving.”
you nod sweetly at him, hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i love you, jaemin. you can start.”
your sweet words and action has his skin burning up, his cheeks turning red as he lines himself up at your entrance. he can feel how warm you are, his tip sliding over your slit a few times, working the both of you up. his body hovers over yours, moving to press kisses on your neck when he slides in.
your nails dig into his shoulders when he presses in. he lets out a grunt, “s-so tight, need you to relax, baby. can’t move if you’re not relaxed.”
“s-sorry! i just- you’re so big.”
he groans at your words, his head falling to your shoulder again. he slips out of you, giving you a second to relax before you give him the go ahead again. he slowly slips his tip in, wincing when he feels you clamp down on him. he bites down on his lip to stop any embarrassing sounds from coming out, hand soothing your side as he pushes more of his length in.
it’s a weird feeling for you, it doesn’t exactly hurt, but he is stretching you open. nothing this big has been inside you, so used to his fingers. you let out broken whines, asking him to stop at certain points. your nails lightly scratch down his back, 
his hips finally are flush against yours, his cock buried deep inside you. you can feel him twitch, slightly shaking on top of you. he’s trying to calm you down, soft words being whispered into your ear, followed by soft kisses. his thumb snakes between your bodies, tracing light circles on your clit.
if only you knew how much he was struggling not to buck his hips into your cunt. you’re so tight, so warm, clenching down on his cock. your walls are getting used to the intrusion, soft pants fanning across his face. you call out his name, his hips accidentally pushing closer to you as you clench around him. he quickly apologies, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling.
“i-” you let out a breath, “i want you to s-start moving. s-slowly, please.”
“of course, angel. like i said, tell me if i need to stop, if i need to slow down, or anything, okay?”
you nod quickly, jaemin leaning back up, his eyes staring down at where you two are connected. you spare a look, getting embarrassed at the sight. he starts slowly moving, pulling slowly out of you before pushing back in. you can feel every inch of him, your warm walls inviting him in. it’s so easy for you to just let him take over, the feeling slowly bleeding into pleasure as he gets a rhythm.
while you’re getting used to the feeling, jaemin seems to be losing himself in you. every time he moves his hips, he can feel how wet you are. it’s like you try to suck him back in when he tries pulling out, like you need him to keep on fucking you. your arms are wrapped around his shoulder, bringing him closer to you. he’s surrounded by all of you, your scent, your cunt, the pretty sounds you’re making.
when you start moaning his name, he has to stop, head falling to your shoulder as he tries to keep his composure. he knows he can’t just yet, but he wants to fuck into your cunt, wants to have you fucked stupid just because of his cock. the thought makes him twitch inside you, the feeling of his orgasm already bubbling up in his abdomen.
he lets out a shaky exhale before he starts moving again, a little faster than before. “how’re you feeling, baby? tell me how it f-feels for you.”
“feels so good, jaemin! your cock feels so good inside me!”
you clench down on him, your hips rolling up into his. you’re moving in time with his thrusts, your nails raking down his back, leaving trails of red marks for later. he doesn’t care though, not when you’re wrapped tightly around him, not when he gets to hear you moan his name. all he can think about is you, and how badly he wants to flip you over and really fuck you.
“so tight, you keep clenching so tight around me, wanna make this pussy mine. tell me it’s mine, angel.”
“please! ‘s all yours, i’m all yours!”
he lets out a growl, he’s quickening his pace, hands gripping onto the sheets near your head. he needs to kiss you or else he might think about how bad you need him, how he’s been the one to show you all this. you kiss him back, whining into his mouth as your chest arches into his. he can feel your hard nipples against his chest, letting out a low fuck.
he can feel himself getting close, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit. he can start feeling you clench around him, your voice rising in volume as you start babbling out to him. he prays that your close, too. he doesn’t think he can last much longer, not with the way you’re wrapping around him.
“gonna cum, angel? you wanna cum, gonna cum with me?”
he sounds so needy, just as fucked out as you are. you can barely register his words, but you know you need to cum just as bad as he does. he picks up his pace, his hands gripping onto your hips as he pounds into you. his low moans join your whines and whimpers, jumbled praises leaving his mouth as he gets closer, “s-so good for me, angel. pussy made just for me, only for me. no one else will ever have you like this.”
you nod, tears pricking your eyes as you come undone, cumming all over his cock. he’s quick to follow, unable to stop himself from cumming when you clench down on his cock. he’s groaning in your ear, quickly moving to messily kiss you. he licks into your mouth, moaning when you start milking his cock.
he slows down, quickly sliding out of you. he sits back on his knees, eyes staring at your spent pussy. he’s broken from his trance when you let out an embarrassed whine of his name. he chuckles when you shut your legs, sliding the condom off before tossing it in the trash.
you’re so tired, all of your energy being used up. jaemin rejoins you in bed, hand smoothing over your thigh, admiring the glow emanating off of you, almost wishing he could take a picture. maybe for another time, he thinks, he’ll bring it up later.
it’s quiet, enjoying the presence of your boyfriend as his light touches move all over. before you can fall asleep, his voice calls out to you, “angel, we gotta get you cleaned up.”
you whine, “but ‘m too tired, you did this to me.”
he laughs, hand moving to hold yours, “i know, i know. let me make it up to you, let me take care of my baby, hm?”
you sigh contentedly, “in five minutes.”
he can’t ever argue with you, easily giving up when he lays right by your side, “five minutes, baby.”
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amerricanartwork · 2 days
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RW Headcanon: "Pebbsie Privilege"
Here’s a headcanon I’ve had in the works for a while, and now I finally want to share it! It's shorter than some of my others, but I hope you'll still find it amusing!
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So firstly (and I plan to expand on this more later) I headcanon Five Pebbles is someone who cares a lot about his appearance, though not in a prissy or snooty sense and more in a “likes being the smartest and most sophisticated one in the room” sense. That means, more so than the average person, he generally doesn’t like being teased, ignored, belittled, condescended to, or otherwise disrespected, and very understandably so if you ask me! But it also means there exists a very special ability when it comes to interacting with Five Pebbles that almost no characters have. 
It’s no more than the ability of someone to refer to Five Pebbles as “Pebbsie” while he’s in earshot without getting death-glares from him. Looks to the Moon, who first started using it, affectionately calls this ability “Pebbsie privilege”, and she ends up being one of the only characters who has it (besides Innocence, who in my portrayals eventually gets it too). Though even so, Pebbles originally got rather flustered when she called him that alone, much less in front of others, considering it's definitely a very cutesy nickname. In fact, poor Pebbles really didn’t like being called “Pebbsie” because one of his least favorite ways of being treated is like a child (which includes being thought of as "cute" in any way). This unfortunately happens to him a lot though since he’s part of the newest iterator generation and tends to have lots of uncommon ideas rarely taken seriously by the older models, and this treatment only amplified as he grew more stubborn and arrogant. 
To elaborate on the origin, Moon developed the nickname pretty much on an impulse — quite a rare thing for her to act on actually — of wanting to hearken more to her role as “Big Sis Moon” and show love to her little brother. Soon after she started using it though Pebbles would pull her into private chats and urge her to drop it to save his dignity. Not wanting to hurt her brother in any way, it didn’t take long before she apologized and stopped using it, and basically got her "Pebbsie privilege" revoked. In the current time she secretly still likes calling him that in her mind, but knowing how much he dislikes it she always feels pretty guilty afterwards, despite them being no more than thoughts at that point. While not a major issue in-and-of itself, this situation was actually a small step in worsening a long-time fear Moon has, though that’s a headcanon for another day…
On a (marginally) more positive note however, after Moon’s collapse and the worsening of Five Pebbles’s rot, along with him generally reminiscing about the things he used to have (as part of yet more character headcanons I’ll elaborate on some other time), he actually began to grow fond of the nickname more and more. Yet he also couldn’t also shake the growing heartache the memories brang, as he came to see it as a reminder of his sister’s never-ending love for him and the better times he now regretted taking for granted and trying so hard to escape. While I headcanon he handles it differently in Downpour’s canon, in the worm-off-the-string AU story I’ve got so far, Moon slowly regaining her “Pebbsie privilege” and Pebbles appreciating it and no longer taking it so seriously (though he still forbids its usage in public) could serve as a small, yet sweet indicator of character growth for both of them.
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Aaaand another RW headcanon done! I wanna mention, though, now that I’ve got more of an idea for the aforementioned AU I really want to start posting more of my headcanons for the Local Group, since the character interactions, histories, and ultimate character growth is perhaps one of the most important elements of that story so far. I’ve spent at least a couple weeks creating almost 40 pages worth of character notes, and while this particular one started out as just a little side-headcanon, I ended up tying it into all of that. Hopefully I can start sharing the main parts of these headcanons soon!
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nana-au · 3 days
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥JJK bfs take care of their sick gf
  。・゚゚・Nanami & Gojo・゚゚・。
Word count: 1.1k
Nanami:
The moment your throat so much as tickles, Nanami does his damndest to get you back to your usual self. It feels strangely paternal how attentive he becomes, not allowing you to lift a finger for yourself. 
You first notice that you woke up sweating, your throat dry, and your eyes heavy. You check to see you still have another 3 hours before work but God you need some water. It’s all you can think about and you stumble into the kitchen, filling a glass. You drain the cup of its lukewarm water clearing your throat repeatedly as you notice it doesn’t go away. You fill it up twice. Then thrice. You begin to panic, realizing you feel freezing cold and boiling hot all at once. 
“Baby? Where’d you go? Come back to bed sweetheart.” He stumbles out, entering the threshold of the kitchen. You hate the fact you are trying to blink back tears, you always become such a baby when you get sick. “What’s wrong doll?” he asks you, pulling you into his bare chest. You babble out that you don’t feel good and his big hand goes to check your temperature. His cool palm feels good against your burning forehead and you can almost make out the concern in his eyes. He clasps his hands in yours and walks you into your shared bathroom, helping you down on the toilet seat before rummaging in the medicine cabinet. He pulls out the thermometer and you stick your tongue up for him to place it under. While you two wait he strokes your hair wordlessly. You can tell he is barely awake, eyes squinting and his hand in your hair forgetting to move. 
The thermometer beeps and he pulls it out from under your tongue. He puts the results up close to his eyes, forgetting his glasses on the bedside table. He doesn’t tell you the number because he knows it will only make you upset. “Looks like we’re gonna spend the day at home.” 
The two of you call out of your respective jobs and Nanami gets to work. He draws you a warm bath with lavender soaking salts, helping you strip from your night clothes. You sniffle and you hardly notice the fact you are giving him pathetic puppy eyes once your shirt comes off. He clicks his tongue at you, telling you that you have nothing to worry about. “I’m here,” he reassures you. 
While you soak he sets up the couch for you with a pillow and blanket. When you're out and after he assists you in putting on clean clothes and fuzzy socks he already has your breakfast on your lap. “Do you need me to feed you too?” he teases, squeezing the plump skin of your cheek. He puts on your favorite show and rushes to get you a pain reliever and vitamin c gummies. He makes sure to sit on the couch with you so you don’t become lonely but is quick to get up when you need a cold cloth against your face. While you nap he runs a few errands, grabbing your favorite sport drinks for extra hydration and the soup from your favorite place. He spends the rest of the day with you, tending to your every need. Nanami refuses to entertain you when you babble about how guilty you feel that he is taking care of you. “Focus on getting better and I’ll focus on making you better,” he promises.
Gojo:
Gojo knows that he can’t take away your cold, but he will make sure your high-strung personality doesn’t get in the way of you getting better.
He can’t take you seriously when you throw your head back and groan. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought you got news the world was ending. You went to the doctor for your yearly check up when they discovered a fever and swollen lymph nodes. You were shocked, you felt completely fine. That was until you woke up the next day with the worst sore throat of your life, paired with a perfectly obnoxious cough. When Gojo called you that morning you made a huge deal about it, telling him not to come over and to cancel your plans for the rest of the week. He mentioned dropping off some cough syrup and you frantically told him to skip it. You would be fine! He just had to stay away. You would die if you got your boyfriend sick. 
At around 6pm, the white-haired sorcerer was at your door carrying a grocery bag of goodies for you. You groaned, exasperated that he showed up. You were fine! It was him who needed to stay away. He flashed his teeth at your reaction, pushing past you and setting out the supplies he got you on your coffee table. “I got you the cherry flavored cough drops, I hope you don’t mind. I wasn’t sure what you would like.” You made sure to thank him before feebly attempting to kick him out. He crossed his arms at you, eyebrow raising, “Or what bunny?” You throw your hands up and sit down on your couch in a huff. The abrupt action causes you to break out in a coughing fit and Gojo rolls his eyes. He unwraps a cough drop and once your coughing fit calms he pushes the red menthol past your lips. You start to speak up before his finger hovers over your mouth, “Quiet,” he commands. If you felt even an ounce better you would have rolled your eyes, but instead you obeyed. He began moving the couch pillows down to one end before sitting down, leaning against them. He pulled you close into his arms and laid your head against his chest. Grabbing the remote, he turns up the volume of the movie you had playing and sits there in silence with you. You two hadn’t been dating for very long and it was odd to be quiet with him. Your relationship was founded on the chaos you two thrived on. But here the two of you were, dead silent with his slender fingers rubbing soothing circles on your skin. You grew incredibly sleepy from soaking in his warmth, the dialogue in the movie turning into radio static in your mind. Satoru’s chest was moving you up and down to the rhythm of his breathing and his left hand was tangled in your hair, massaging your scalp. You were probably drooling from how relaxing it was but you couldn’t muster the strength to bring your hand up to wipe it. “Just rest,” his voice broke out from your fading thoughts, “Satoru’s got you,” if you were any more conscious you could have heard the smirk that his words broke through. 
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justivik · 2 days
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; italian boyfriend! yandere x fem! reader
english isn't my first language
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You have been in a relationship with Matthew for 7 months. You have lived very nice moments like going out to fancy restaurants or cooking together on a Saturday night, no doubt you felt very lucky to have him by your side but there was something that caught your attention about him.
His pathological jealousy.
He would tell you that he trusted you but not others, it seemed like all day long he was suspicious of all the men and even women who surrounded you and maintained a friendship with you. It seems like an endless loop when you two fight, it was always suspicions on his part against you. The two of you would fight, make up and end up getting intimate. Almost like that Katy Perry song; you loved your boyfriend and you were determined to put an end to that intense jealousy so you could have a stable relationship…. Or that was your idea. You two went back to the same fight with the same theme, his distorted suspicions showing with every word and look he directed at you.
“Understand me, coure mio. I feel that your new coworker is trying to flirt with you, I've seen how he looks at you and how he tries to have some friction with you and that makes me feel…. disgustato!” He shouted whispering the last word so as not to attract the attention of the next door neighbors, with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw tighter.
“He has no other intentions, Matt. He's already engaged to his partner and he was just being nice.”
“Being nice, being nice! You're lying! He was looking at you with other intentions and his touches were not friendly. No touch from a man who is not me is friendly.” He said.
You watched as he brought his left hand to his face with an annoyed sigh, his eyelashes pointing downward as his lips traced inaudible whispers. You stood in silence as Matt tried to calm his fit of jealousy, his hands clenched and his jaw went back to the same tense state. He sat down on the couch closer and looked at you, his sweet eyes were now darkly bitter, he opened his lips to say something again.
“Ti amo, e ho bisogno che tu mi capisca that he is not a good man, stay away from him and don't talk to him anymore. He is not a good influence and look at the problems he is bringing.”
You love it when he speaks Italian and he knows the power of saying sweet words to you in his native language. He knew how to manipulate you quickly and easily, making you nervous and blushing but this time you weren't going to let him, you were tired of the same arguments.
”He's not guilty of anything, Matt. Work on your fucking jealousy before we break up this relationship and we're more broken than anything.” You looked into his eyes and how they turned from angry to scared of losing you.
Desperate babbling was coming out of his mouth, head tilted from side to side in a no.
“If you leave me, I'd die! Don't think stupid things, coure mio.” He kept flattering you with words as soft as a rose but painful as its thorns.
“Stay with me, please. I love you, not anyone else. You!”
You felt Matthew's arms around your waist, his face on your stomach and his tears staining your shirt. You sighed deeply and then stroked his messy hair and promised him that you would never leave his side. This time your fight ended in something more than fucking…It all happened so fast, but you were glad your fight didn't last more than an hour. You would have to do a lot of work with your boyfriend on his jealousy and insecurities.
“I'll never leave you, honey”
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My first post & open request!!!
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chastiefoul · 22 hours
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mischievous streak | neuvilette
just another day of you pining over neuvilette and poor wriothesley has to hear all about it. (dw neuvilette makes an appearance!!) fluff. crack. this one is so unserious. 0.7k words
“and when he said ‘oratrice oratrice mecanique d'analyse’ did you hear it, wrio?” you swooned, another day of fanning over the iudex of fountaine to your best friend,  wriothesley.
“did you?” the duke replied increduosly, as if not really getting the reason why that was the part you’re fawning over. “oh and when he declared ‘guilty’ verdict with such conviction and charisma to that person, i wished that was me.” you went on, the conversation was most definitely one-sided.
“...you wished that you’re in a court and getting a ‘guilty’ verdict?” he blinked, not knowing how to react when the things you’re saying gets more insane as each day passed. “well not really, but i am certainly guilty. guilty for wanting to climb him like a-“
wriothesley cut you off with an exaggerated cough.
“you finish that sentence and i’m sending you to the authorities.” you crossed your arm, “you’re the authorities.” he sighed, “yes and i’m not above putting cuffs on you and throw you to one of the cell.”
you gasped, “you wouldn’t. you’d put me in jail because of love?”
“insanity is what you are, (y/n). seriously, just talk to him.” he picked up his cup of tea wanting to take another sip. “and what do i say, that i’ve been in love with him since forever and that i’d give him a limb in exchange for a date?”
“sure. or, you could say you want to get to know him a little better, and ask him out for some lunch?” he said, his pen not stopping on checking the piling documents on his table. “but that’s like super obvious!” you retorted.
“and saying you’d give him one of your limb isn’t...?” he gave you a side-eye before getting back to his paper. “hmm, fair point.” you tapped your chin with your finger. “but he doesn’t seem like the type who’d just go out with anyone, no? i don’t think i’ve ever seen him with someone,” you claimed, thinking back to all the times you passed him accidentally by remembering his schedules.
“you’re right, but i don’t think that’s by his choice though. i think some people just got really intimidated by the idea of casually hanging out with the iudex of fountaine.” he shrugged. “what?! that’s not fair, even though he’s really kind hearted?”
the man in front of you gave you a mocking smile. “yeah, and you’d know hm? since you hang out with him so much,” he teased. “i don’t like you, you’re attacking me for no reason.” you grumbled. wriothesley just chuckled good naturedly before you continued.
“gosh but seriously, he should have someone by his side, don’t you think? someone’s who’s supportive, who will stand by him no matter what. you know, someone like me? i would treat him so good. i would make him food all day, draw him a bubble bath-“
a cough cut you off, you’d think it’s wriothesley and his unwillingness to hear your sincerity about your feelings towards neuvilette, but when you see that his expression was just as startled, you shut your lips.
both of you turned your heads to the end of the stairs and there he is.
neuvilette.
yes, the very one you’ve been crushing on since forever, oh and did i mention you just said you’d draw him a bubble bath?
the tip of his ears was visibly rosy, as he looked like he tried so hard not to look embarrassed or even phased. “i was let in by the guard, i didn’t realize there is another guest.”
you closed your eyes, counting slowly to three because perhaps it would be able to turn back time, even just a little. wriothesley was just covering his mouth, and you’d bet the other limb you have that he’s currently trying his harderst to hold back a laugh.
this is a situation. a situation you need to diffuse fast with your quick thinking.
you turned to wriothesley. “that’s why i said duke, not only you don’t need to reduce my sentence, please don’t let me out from this jail forever. i would endanger the civilians. thank you for your time duke wriothesley, i am now going to go back to my cell.”
hearing that was just the last straw for your best friend, he laughed out loud. doubling over and all that as he clutched his stomach. after a solid two minutes of him just laughing and you facepalmed yourself, wriothesley gained his composure.
“neuvilette, meet (y/n), the all-over supervisor of the fortress of meropide.”
you glared at him before giving the long-haired man your sweetest smile.
“hello, it’s nice to finally see you down here in the flesh, monsieur neuvilette.” you nodded at him in which he replied with a slight smile. “likewise and please, just call me neuvilette.”
neuvilette gave wriothesley a document as he immediately skimmed through it. “i see, well there’s nothing here that i can give an input on better than (y/n), this is more of their expertise.” your head turned so quick as if you heard a blaring alarm. “then, i would appreciate your insight on this matter if you have the time,” neuvilette said as looked at you and there’s no way you could say no.
“of course! perhaps over lunch? it’s the right time, no?” you bounced back, now feeling excited than nervous. he chuckled at the enthusiasm as he agreed. “yes, you’re right. but perhaps you should know i’m not ready yet for someone to draw me a bubble bath after just one lunch.” he put his fist over his mouth, covering his smile. so turned out the iudex of fountaine has a mischievous streak in his personality after all.
that’s nice. not for your already beyond embarrassed state, though.
“wriothesley, just arrest me right now please.”  
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megistusdiary · 15 hours
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the new teaser?!? hello!!!!!?? while one of arle's children was dying, all i could think about was how she could absolutely choke me and step on me like she did to that dumbass man...
^ and this 😊😊 gets my brain going 😊😊 because i'm very guilty of wanting to be her prey in all senses of the word. chase me down and fuck me until i can't form a coherent thought pretty please 💓
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snezhevna deserved better :( all of arle's story so far has made me a sappy mess. i feel so bad for her. obviously it's pretty traumatizing, but i'm just. oughhh
but, also, she's so gorgeous and i love her sm. and she would 100% be into that with you.
(nsfw utc - tw transfem!arle, rough sex)
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"where are you hiding, bunny?" she asks softly, heels clicking on the hardwood floors of her office, doors shutting with a dull thud behind her.
"i don't have time for your antics. come out now, or you'll be sorry." she warns, but you stay put, hiding inside of the wardrobe of big fluffy coats.
of course, this was all a little game between the two of you, but the way she would fuck you after finding you certainly made it feel one-sided.
you try to breathe quietly, pleased with how much you've improved your hiding.
only to realize her footsteps have stopped.
"get out of that closet or you'll ruin my furs." she snaps, opening the door and letting you tumble out into her arms.
you let out a soft squeak, trying to squirm away, but her grip is firm as she holds you in place. she drags you to her desk, messily sliding everything to the side and laying you flat.
you're already dressed up for her in a tiny white dress, perfectly easy for her to slide right up and expose your dripping cunt.
"whore." she scoffs, bringing her hand down harshly against your clit, indulging in the way your body jolts with the sting. her other hand cages your throat down to the dark wood of her desk, squeezing lightly. "you're squirming too much for someone leaking onto my desk."
your face heats up beneath your skin, radiating to your neck under her hand, and she sighs.
her fingers slide up your cunt, collecting your slick and sliding two of them into you. the way your back arches, your dress straps sliding to the side and nearly exposing your chest is intoxicating.
she fucks you with her fingers to the brink of orgasm, withdrawing them quickly and slapping your pussy for good measure.
she drags her soaked fingers to your lips, making you lick your own slick off them while the hand on your throat instead busies itself with the button of her pants.
she frees her cock, hand wrapped around her base and stroking herself to full hardness. her thumb swipes over the beading pre-cum at her tip, hissing through her teeth as her fingers practically fuck your throat.
soon enough, she's pushing into you, folding your thighs to your chest, taking you hard and fast in her office. the desk groans and grunts along with the both of you, letting everyone know exactly what's going on in the knave's office.
and to steer clear for the next few hours.
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aboutwerewolves · 22 hours
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@lulz-nematode-belmont ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 and i'm sorry this took soooo long.
Since you were little you've always feared monsters and the dark. Especially the monster under your bed. But as you grew up, you managed to convince yourself that it was just a myth. But now, as you've moved to your new house, over the course of past few months, you feel that the monster under the bed thing wasn't just a myth to scare children.
You wake up in the morning, not even remembering when you went to bed, with bruises on your thighs and your pussy sore. You tried setting up a camera, but "somehow" the camera didn't record anything except darkness.
This time around, you're prepared to stay awake the entire night, so you get in your bed and close your eyes. After almost an hour, you feel your blanket being pulled down from over you. You remain still, and you feel giant hands on your thighs spreading your legs apart.
You feel a presence hover over you, and suddenly you switch on the lights, just to see a tall dark figure, he looks almost like a human, except he has a skin that matches the darkness of the night, his hair as white as snow. His face is pleasing to look at. Even the razor sharp teeth, you feel safe with him around, he starts to retreat wide eyed, but your voice stops him— "You've been visiting me?"
"Yeah" he replies kind of guilty. "I'm not....mad, just surprised" you laugh. "What have you been doing in your visits?" you add on. "I've been fucking you with my tongue. Couldn't resist" he speaks softly.
You blush at his straightforwardness about what he had been doing. Honestly you didn't mind, just hoped that you could've stayed awake while he was busy eating you out. "You're aroused?"he grunts. Your eyes widen, how could he sense that? You, yourself couldn't. "Am I?" you ask to no one in particular.
"Yeah, more so than the other days." he replies anyways. "Now what?" you question to him. "I can leave if you want me to, but if you want me to stay, just know you'll never get rid of me. You will be mine and I will be yours." he replies, his voice turning dark at the end.
You pause for a bit and then just say one word, "Stay." And all hell breaks loose, you're on your back, legs spread, shorts ripped apart and him face to face with your cunt. You try to close your legs out of shyness but he holds them apart, his voice rough as he speaks "Don't try hiding yourself from me, sunshine. You're all mine."
He then wordlessly licks up your pussy. His teeth carefully toy with your clit. He eats you out with so much vigor, it makes your back arch off the bed, and he pins you down by your hips to the bed. He gets so messy, it's like he's eating you out for his own pleasure rather than yours. He continues his ministrations on your poor cunt and you cum around his tongue. He keeps on going until you come 3-4 times more.
"I think that's enough for you tonight. yeah?" He speaks. You're too tired to say anything and wordlessly pull him closer to you to cuddle him.
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dinogoofymutated · 2 days
Note
Hey not sure if your currently taking requests but I just wanted to I soooooo stoked that you write for Remy! I've been starved for years cuz there's like no fan fics for him😭.
anyway I was wondering if you could do like a fic or headcannon where gambit somehow got hurt on a mission and is on bed rest but is also like really horny because you wont have sex with his since hes hurt.
If not that's fine I just thought it up and thought it would be hilarious 😂. Anyway luv your work, keep it up😘
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NSFW!Gambit/AFAB!Reader
MMMMMHHHMMMMMM BESTIE UR MIND. ABSOLUTE GENIUS. I hope that you don't mind I did make it NSFW there at the end but the majority is just teasing our favorite gambler. Also, This is for the folks who were also really attracted to that one scene in criminal minds with the bulletproof vest. iykyk.
TWs: teasing, sexual innuendos, explicit smut, Handjobs, Mutual masturbation, PNV sex. Raw sex. (Wrap it bf you tap it yall) Creampie. Reader written with Fem! pronouns.
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"Asolutetly not." You're quick to say it. Gambit pouts as the words leave your mouth, still on the infirmary bed with all the wires and doodads still hooked up to him. He's giving you those scoundrel puppy eyes that he knows you usually give in to, but you're not willing to budge this time.
"No, Remy. I will not be-" You take a quick glance around the room, leaning in a little closer as you begin to whisper-yell at him. "-I will not be having sex with you right now!" Remy sighs in a pitiful way leaning against the headboard in your direction. You can’t begin to look him in the eyes right now, instead lightly pushing his face away from your spot, sitting close to his bed on a chair that you had moved from the corner. His pout turns into an amused smile, as he instead takes your hand in his own, moving it down to press a kiss to your palm. You try not to blush at him. You’re supposed to be standing strong, dammit! 
  "Come on, Chère. S' not like it's gonna make Gambit hurt any worse-” You cut him off by lightly slapping his abdomen. Remy immediately flinches, curling in on himself with a pained groan. You feel a little guilty afterward, flattening your palm to rub the area soothingly.
    “Yes, it would. Remy, I could seriously hurt you. You heard beast, any vigorous activity could rip your stitches.” You say, moving to where you can sit on the bed, facing him. You cup the side of his face, gently moving stray locks out of the way. He rolls his eyes, not at you, but at the memory of the talking-to he got when he had woken up in the infirmary. 
    “Never stopped me before. Since I been with the X-men it’s like everythin’ become a big deal. So what if I rip a few stitches here an’ there?” Remy grumbles. You give him a stern look, before leaning in to kiss his temple. He melts into your touch.
    “It is a big deal, Remy. You need to heal. End of discussion.” You say gently. Remy thinks on it for a moment, before giving you a slight smirk. 
    “And by “end of discussion” you really mean “Until Gambit tempts me into bed”, Right?” He says. You roll your eyes at him before standing. If that’s the attitude he’s going into these next weeks with, you know for a fact he’s going to be insufferable.
    You were right. The incoming weeks were almost as much torture to you as they most definitely were to him. Wherever you went in the mansion, Gambit was sure to follow. He’d be in the kitchen while you would be cooking, unable to help due to doctor's orders, but no one ever said that he had to stay out of the kitchen. He’s come up behind you, snaking his arms around your hips as he’d “Give you pointers”. He’d lean close and whisper in your ear, sometimes giving it a tip or two. But one thing about Gambit is that every time you turned him away, or laughed at him and told him to sit down, he’d get pouty. 
    That was a trend that continued. He’d deliberately go out of his way to tease you, on movie night, in the library, in the showers even. And every time, despite how hot under the collar you might have been, you turned him away. The more bothered you seemed to be however, his pouts turned into smirks. Eventually, you got fed up with it. You were trying to be a good girlfriend and make sure Remy didn’t hurt himself, but if he was going to be a brat about it, you could be a brat too.
    You started off a little more subtly than Remy did. Lingering touches here and there, kissing him just long enough to leave him wanting. You’d wear just a tad less clothing around him, or wear slightly lower-cut tops. You were beginning to realize just how easy it was to get him riled up.
    One particular day, the tension was thick in the air, having coalesced into something barely breathable. Remy was lying back on the bed on his elbows as you redressed his wound, making sure to spread ointment onto the healing stitches and care for the skin. You frequently found yourself drawn to the sight of his lower abs, the large bruise having begun to yellow as it healed. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't seen his skin in a while, but the sight of him had you breathing a little funny. Remy was also a little quieter than normal, unable to look away from your gentle hands as you took care of him.
    Once you finished, you lingered by his side, a hand pressed against his chest. You look up to find him already watching you, but neither of you says anything. You purse your lips, debating on whether or not you’re doing what you think you’re about to do. Remy tilts his head at you questioningly. He opens his mouth to speak but fails to do so as your hand trails down to his waistband. He takes a shocked breath through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he’s looking at you again through a lustful haze. 
    “Thought you said-”
    “Shut up.” You sigh, cutting him off. Remy smirks at you, biting his lip. You roll your eyes, caressing the crotch of his pants a few times before you begin to slip them off of him.
    “Don’t get too excited.” You whisper, but really it sounds more like a needy sigh. “Just a handy, okay?” Jambit huffs a laugh at you, but doesn’t tease. He's practically bucking his hips into your hand when you finally take hold of his cock, stroking him to hardness. You can’t seem to look away from the sight, watching as his abdomen clenches with every stroke from base to tip. You twist your hand on the upstroke, listening as Remy lets out a curse and a sudden moan just as you thumb his head, collecting his abundant precum as you use it to stroke back down again. 
    “You’re really pent up, huh?” You ask in a heated whisper. Remy’s head is tilted back in pleasure, and he huffs in amusement as he cracks an eye open at you. His hand slides up your thigh, Your legs being pressed against each other tightly to find some friction. You gasp as he suddenly slides two of his fingers up the inside seam of your pants, and you can practically feel yourself get wetter at the touch. 
    “Looks like I’m not the only one.” Remy hums. You can’t seem to pull away from him as he continues to stroke you. The air is hardly breathable, and the burning in your chest and your core starts to become too hot to ignore. 
    “Fuck it.” You say. Remy is confused when you let go of him, only to break into a wide smile when he realizes you were beginning to strip. The shirt is first to go, before your bra, and then your jeans and underwear. Remy wolf-whistles at the sight, and you wave him off, embarrassed. 
    “Couldn’t stay away from the temptation of Remy LeBeau, Now could you Chère?” Remy muses. He’s such a goof. You try to hide your smile as you carefully straddle his legs, making sure to avoid his sore spots. One of his hands holds onto your upper thigh, the other making its way to your center. He strokes you languidly with his fingers before circling your slit and pushing two inside. You suck in a breath, careful to set your hands on his shoulders without putting any weight onto them. 
    “Looks like this pretty pussy missed me as much as I missed you,” Remy says breathlessly. His eyes flicker from your cunt up to your bare breasts, and then to your flushed face. You feel like you’re falling apart too quickly, already climbing that high as he fingers you with those hands you love so much.
    “Remy,” You call for him breathlessly. “ m’ not gonna last too long.” Remy can't help himself any longer, and pulls you closer to catch you in a passionate kiss. He drags his teeth across your bottom lip, letting go of the plush skin. He doesn't withdraw his fingers until your thighs begin to shake and you start to clench down on him. You whine as he does so, barely holding your composure. Remy takes your hand off of his cock, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before gently dragging your hips further into his lap. Your mind is hazy, but you know to be careful as he lines himself up.
    “If we're going to do this, we're taking it my speed, okay?” You say. Remy nods, barely taking in the information. He was ready to be inside you. After weeks of nothing- all he could think about was you. Your giggles, your smiles. Your body. The way you taste on his tongue. The feeling of your thighs clenching around his head.  Remy would do anything you asked of him at this moment.
    You take it slow as you lower yourself down on his cock. The stretch of him feels delicious against your inner walls. Remy leans in, kissing and sucking on your breasts as you take your time. He bottoms out with a wet sound, his hands resting against your upper thighs.
    Remy curses as you begin to move, bouncing on his cock somewhat slowly. Even in the haze of your lust, you're worried about hurting him. Remy, on the other hand, doesn't share the same sentiment. His hands clench around your thighs, and when he can't seem to take the slow speed anymore, he slams you down onto him.
    You gasp at the action, and apologies spill from his lips as he tilts you forward, knocking your balance so you're forced to lean onto him as he controls the pace, eagerly thrusting into your heat. 
    “Remy-” Your protests are cut off with a kiss as your favorite scoundrel begins to take exactly what he wants. His grunts and moans beneath you send another trickle of warmth inside of you. To be honest, seeing him take control like this was hot- almost hot enough for you to forgive the fact that he was certainly overexerting himself- but it was hard to be mad at him when he's fucking you so good.
    One thing about Remy is that he's a talker in bed. If anything, you were surprised he was as “quiet” as he had been the majority of the time. But once he started to get closer to his peak, Remy began to ramble. 
    "You think you're smart? -Ah! Teasing me like that.. mmh… expecting me to just take it?" You're not really paying attention to his words, nodding in response while only thinking about his steady grip on your thighs and ass and the peak you're reaching so quickly. Remy squeezes you harder, almost harshly as he begins to take you faster. His hips begin to stutter, thrusts starting to do him in one by one. 
    Remy lets out a loud groan as he reaches his peak, burying himself deeply inside you and thumbing your clit. He continues to thrust as he helps you reach that white-hot peak of pleasure, pressing kisses to your temple as you ride it out on top of him. By the time you're both fully finished, you're panting for air. You're fully collapsed onto Remy's chest, Remy being absolutely boneless as he rests against the headboard. 
    “You’re such an idiot.” You say when you finally have enough sense. Remy just chuckles, continuing to press kisses to every part of your face and neck he can reach. You sigh happily as he does so, pressing some of your own kisses to his shoulder.
    When you finally peel yourself off of his chest, the first thing you check in on is his bandages. You scowl when you see that they've been soaked through with sweat, but more concerning is the spot of red that has started to form. You look up at Remy with narrowed eyes, and he quickly looks down as well, before looking back up at you and simply shrugging with a gleeful smile.
    “Casualty of love, Chère.”
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alltheirdamn · 2 days
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)
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Chap. 5 Nevermore
Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3
Masterlist | Ko-fi
I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—
“Miss Smith?” 
Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.
“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”
Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him. 
“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.
“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.
“You’re a distraction.”
“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.
The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.
It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.
The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown. 
Fuck. 
You wanted the day to be over. 
The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right? 
Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.
“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”
There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation. 
“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”
Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.
“Yes, Georgia?”
“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.
“Good,” you smiled. “Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”
“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.
“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”
You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart. 
“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”
Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak. 
“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.
Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return. 
“Good,” you choked out.
You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do. 
Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness. 
“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked. 
To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.
“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.
“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”
“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.
“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.
“And why does it drive him mad?”
Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.
“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”
You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.
“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”
Sarah raised her hand again.
“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.
“Who?”
“Poe.”
“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”
The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.
One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye. 
Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out. 
That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.
You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.
Seven missed calls from Joel
Two voicemails from Joel
With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.
“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”
Then you played the next.
“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don’t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”
You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault. 
Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day. 
Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school. 
It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand. 
“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee. 
She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows. 
“Nothing, Maria,” you lied. 
She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. 
“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”
“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. 
“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow. 
You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now. 
“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”
Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words. 
“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly. 
“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?” 
“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”
“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected. 
“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished. 
Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee. 
“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly. 
“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”
“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”
“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.” 
You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft. 
“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”
You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly. 
The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine. 
Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash. 
You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you. 
“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes. 
“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”
“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”
“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away. 
“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.
“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed. 
“You’re not mad at me?” 
“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”
“I’m s—.”
Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist. 
Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body. 
“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck. 
“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone. 
“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”
“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.
“Wrong name, baby.”
With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar. 
“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”
You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs. 
“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.
“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.
“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.” 
You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.
“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”
“Okay,” you exhaled. 
Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.
“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.
“Anythin’ you want, baby.”
That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine. 
“Joel,” you whined. 
You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.
“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.
He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours. 
Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat. 
“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”
You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure. 
“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear. 
You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface. 
“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”
Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear. 
“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.
“More,” you heaved. 
“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.
“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.” 
You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing. 
But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless. 
“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”
“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”
You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing. 
“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair. 
You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek. 
“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”
“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you. 
You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly. 
“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”
You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him. 
“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand. 
He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together. 
“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered. 
“Only if you tell me something in return.”
“Of course, baby.”
You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you. 
“I hate pancakes,” you said.
Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch. 
“Pancakes? Really?” He teased. 
“I just don’t like them!” You defended. 
“Y’gonna tell me why?”
“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”
“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”
“Don’t tease me, Joel.”
His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms. 
“Your turn,” you sighed. 
“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”
“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned. 
“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”
You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face. 
“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.” 
“That’s cute,” you smiled.
You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected. 
“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.
“I think you’re really handsome.”
It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften. 
“Handsome, huh?”
“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”
“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”
You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest. 
“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.
Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you. 
“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”
“Baby,” Joel whispered. 
“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”
“Tell me,” he urged softly.
“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.
“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”
Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you. 
Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks. 
“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”
“It’s real,” you echoed. 
“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”
“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled. 
“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”
You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier. 
“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence. 
Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.
“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”
Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.
“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room. 
Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.
“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.
Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.
“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.
“Pain,” you cried softly.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”
“Baby?” Joel said cautiously. 
“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”
Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.
“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”
“I—I need a minute,” you cried.
You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.
Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it. 
“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”
You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe. 
“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”
The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it. 
Beth
“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”
“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand. 
You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head. 
“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”
Silence.
“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.
“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.
You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver. 
“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking. 
“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”
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hariboz · 3 days
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“forget? you?” — shb x gen!reader
a little something i wrote to get back into my writing flow!
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ex!hanbin has been plaguing my mind for a while now. the type to make the heart wrenching decision to break up with you to follow his dreams in hopes of finding what he wanted in the spotlight, ready to sacrifice the comfort of your embrace to chase what he has been dreaming of for years.
“thank you for always being by my side, but i don’t know if i can be happy if i don’t try one last time. i don’t want to break your heart, angel, but will you let me go?”
and you did. of course you did, how could you not? you could always see the sparkle in his eyes when he showed you a new choreography he made, the longing in his gaze when watching others dance on the same stages he could only dream of being on. you knew he was happy with you, you knew he loved you. he was happy, loved and comfortable, yet unfulfilled. because while you would give him every single star in the night sky if you could, no amount of your love would sustain his desire to become the shiniest star of them all himself.
so you let him go, gave him your blessing and told him to better make it to the top so your love was not given up in vain.
you had never seen hanbin cry so much before.
“i promise, angel. i’ll carry you with me in my heart.”
and truth be told, ex!hanbin held his promise. he made it. a leader, a highly sought after visual, a mc, a vocalist.
he’s not your binnie anymore. he’s not the one waking up an hour before your alarm to make you breakfast anymore. he’s not picking you up from work with that sweet smile and a smoothie in his hand. he doesn’t try to teach you his choreos anymore. he doesn’t giggle at you while fixing your hair anymore.
on days where it’s especially hard you catch yourself wishing you had refused, had kept him close to you. had begged him to stay back, to not sacrifice all the serene happiness you shared; but then you snap back to reality, the realisation that these selfish thoughts keep crawling their way up making you feel guilty.
it’s a sick twist of fate, you think, when you happen to walk past a wall of support ads for him plastered along your way. you don’t know whether to laugh or cry; whether you should be elated he is receiving an amount of love you could never have given him or whether you should be hurt and bitter that all this meant more to him than you seemingly ever did.
it’s not fair to compare like that, you know that, but it’s not like he’s there to defend himself. he’s never there anymore.
in your inner frenzy, the internal fight between wanting to support the man you still love oh so deeply and the selfish wish to have kept him for yourself, you bump into someone, misty eyes barely focused enough to notice the person in front of you.
you look up briefly to apologise, wanting nothing more than to get away from this overstimulating throwback to your better times, only to realise that the devil — angel — himself is standing right there.
right there, in front of you. sung hanbin. your binnie.
you know it’s him immediately despite the mask he’s wearing. the all too familiar sparkle in his eyes and his pretty lashes that you know all too well blinking back at you in shock, his eyes desperately darting over your face in an attempt to drink in every little change and detail.
you’re just about to speak when he turns at the sound of his name, which is when you finally realise the crowd standing not too far away, observing him like hawks and pointing their phones at him.
right. he’s idol binnie now.
so you bow politely and leave, trying your best to manoeuvre through the crowd. your heart is beating in your ears, your thoughts all jumbled and confused. you haven’t seen him in so long. not in person, anyways, and now you’re running away? what else could you have done?
it’s like you’re on autopilot, not even noticing you’ve made your way back home until you’re stood in front of your apartment. it’s then when you’re about to unlock your door, planning to crawl into bed and never come back out, that your phone vibrates.
first once, then twice.
“i don’t know if you want to talk to me anymore, but i was happy to see you today. even if it was really short.”
“i miss you.”
“you didn’t forget?”
“forget? you?”
“i could never. i love you.”
”did you ever think about dating an idol?”
ex!hanbin who, i think, would give it all up to follow his dream only to realise every single version of his future had you in it. and now he’s here, trying to win you back, hoping it’s not too late. because ex!hanbin is not only a romantic, but also in love. deeply, unabashedly in love.
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152 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 3 days
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guilty conscience (+18)
chapter iii
pairing: rafe cameron x female!reader
summary: when ward cameron, a renowned business man and millionaire specifically requested your services through an escort agency, you assumed it would be just another job—brief and straightforward. however, your entire world shifted when ward disclosed his true intentions and rafe cameron stumbled into your life. there were rules, and rules were meant to be followed.
was money worth breaking someone’s heart?
taglist: lmk if you want to be added (comment down below! if you've already asked me to be here and I didn't tag you LET ME KNOW AGAIN CAUSE IM VERY FORGETFUL) : @haruvalentine4321 @maybankslover
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Your phone buzzed in your nightstand, startling you out of your reverie. 
With a sigh, you fished it out, glancing at the screen to see Ward's name flashing in bold letters. You’d just texted him an hour earlier but spared any details for your sake.
Taking a deep breath, you answered the call, plastering on your most professional tone. 
"Hey, Ward. How's it going?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by Ward's booming voice, filled with impatience. 
"Well? Did you find him? How's it going over there?"
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to tell him you royally fucked up. The truth was things hadn't exactly gone according to plan. Rafe had slipped through your fingers not once, but twice, leaving you feeling more defeated than ever.
But you couldn't let Ward know that. Not yet, at least.
"It's... going." you replied vaguely, trying to keep your tone upbeat.
There was a pause on the other end, and you could practically hear Ward's mind whirring with impatience.
 "Make it faster," he snapped, his tone sharp and demanding. "He’ll be at the golf course tomorrow, 9 sharp.”
The golf course?!
You had never golfed a day in your life, let alone attempted to blend in with a bunch of rich snobs on the green. For fuck’s sake. This was going to be a disaster.
On the other hand, you were nothing if not resourceful. You didn’t know the first thing about golf, but you were a quick learner. And if there was one thing you were good at, it was improvising on the fly. 
“Sofia works there. Get his attention off her.”
Easier said than done. 
“Ward, your son looks at her like she hung the moon and the stars."
"I don't pay you to play matchmaker, sweetheart," he retorted sharply, his tone laced with irritation. "I pay you to get the job done. Now, I don't want any excuses tomorrow. Make sure you're at that golf course bright and early, and don't screw this up."
With that, he hung up the phone.
Fucking assshole.
You slammed your phone down on the nightstand, cursing under your breath.
Ward might have been your current employer, but that didn't mean you had to like him. Dealing with his crap was like dealing with a spoiled toddler throwing a tantrum. Except, you know, this toddler had a lot more money and power, which somehow made it even worse.
You were not some puppet he could just yank around whenever he felt like it, constantly ordering you around like some sort of lackey.
But you were not about to let Ward's ridiculous demands get the best of you. If he wanted you to be a professional golfer, you would give him just that.
The evening turned into a crash course on all things golf. Who knew there was so much to learn about golf etiquette? You spent hours glued to your laptop, absorbing every last detail you could find. And those YouTube tutorials? Let's just say you had never clicked on a video so fast in your life.
Then came the real fun—practicing your swing.
Spoiler alert: it was a hot mess. You must've looked like a total dweeb flailing around with that golf club in your hotel room. 
And let's not forget about perfecting your fake smile. You must've spent a solid hour in front of the mirror, trying out different variations until you found the one that said, "I'm totally a golf pro, trust me."
By the time morning rolled around, you were as ready as you'd ever be. 
You found yourself standing outside the gates of the local Country Club, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. You glanced down at your outfit, a bunch of preppy pieces that you hoped screamed "I belong here" rather than "I have no idea what I'm doing." 
And hey, bonus points for the fact that it made your ass and legs look great. Confidence boost, check.
With a mental pep talk and a final adjustment to your collar, you stepped through the gates, steeling yourself for what lay ahead. The crisp scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of clubs striking balls and polite laughter. You felt like a fish out of water in this sea of polo shirts and khaki shorts, but you refused to let it show. 
Taking a deep breath, you approached the pro shop, hoping they had something available for a last-minute rental. Inside, it was bustling with old men browsing through rows of shiny clubs and chatting with the staff.
You stepped up to the counter, plastering on your best smile as you tried to appear confident. 
“Hi there," you greeted the clerk, your voice coming out a little shakier than you would have liked. "I was wondering if you had any clubs available for rent?"
The clerk eyed you curiously, clearly noticing your lack of golf attire. "Sure thing," he replied with a friendly smile. "What kind of clubs are you looking for?"
You paused, realizing you had no idea what kind of clubs you needed. "Um, just something... basic?" you ventured, feeling completely out of your depth.
The clerk nodded understandingly and disappeared into the back room, returning a moment later with a set of clubs. "These should do the trick," he said, handing them over to you. "Just sign here, and you're all set."
You hastily scribbled your signature on the rental form, feeling a rush of relief as you finally held the clubs in your hands. 
The course stretched out before you, lush green fairways bordered by trees and dotted with sand traps and water hazards. It all looked so pristine and posh, like something out of a magazine. You couldn't help but admire the luxury of it all, even though you felt like a total fish out of water.
Glancing around, you realized you were flying solo. No caddy to show you the ropes, no fellow players to offer tips or cheer you on. It was just you, your instincts, and the vast expanse of the course.
And let's not forget, your sheer power of delusion. 
Taking a deep breath, you placed your ball on the tee and tried to remember everything you'd learned from those YouTube tutorials.
Grip firm, eye on the ball, swing smooth. Easy, right?
With trembling hands, you lifted the club and took a practice swing, hoping to shake off some of the jitters. Then, with a quick scan down the fairway, you drew back and swung.
The ball sailed through the air, arcing gracefully before landing with a satisfying thud on the fairway. It wasn't the most impressive shot in the world, but it was a start. You hadn't missed the ball entirely or accidentally hit someone in the head.
Small victories and all.
You grinned, feeling a rush of pride. Maybe this golf thing wasn't so bad after all.
You continued to take swings, each one feeling a little more confident than the last. It was all about finding that rhythm, hearing that satisfying "thwack" when the club met the ball, and watching it soar through the air.
You got lost in the game, forgetting all about the stress of the morning. The sun was climbing, spreading this warm, cozy light over the course, and all around you, there were these little moments of nature - birds chirping, clubs swishing, and the occasional "fore!" from nearby players. 
It was kind of peaceful, in a way. All you cared about was nailing that next shot. Walking down the fairway, you couldn't help but grin to yourself. Sure, you weren’t exactly a golf prodigy, but who cared? 
Just as you were lining up for another swing, a voice startled you from behind. "Hey new face, need a hand?"
“Fuck!” You blurted out, nearly dropping the club at the sound of his voice.
There he was, Rafe Cameron, looking all cool and collected in his golf gear like he'd just stepped out of a magazine. And of course, he caught you in the middle of your amateur hour on the course. You were hoping to find him during a break, probably around the bar, lurking around Sofia.
"Hey.” he said with a smirk, sauntering over to where you stood frozen in embarrassment. "Didn't mean to scare you.”
You tried to muster up a nonchalant response, but all that came out was a nervous chuckle. "Yeah. Just, you know, getting some practice in."
For the first time in my life, you’d like to add. 
Rafe glanced down at the clubs in your hand, a glint in his eyes.
"Practice, huh? Well, you definitely look like you're giving it your all."
You wanted to die.
You forced a smile, hoping he couldn't see the panic swirling beneath the surface. "Yeah, well, gotta start somewhere, right?"
He chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Mind if I join you?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. This was not part of the plan, but you welcomed it anyway. You couldn't help but feel nervous at the thought of him witnessing your less-than-stellar golfing skills up close. But then again, you weren’t here to become a professional golfer, you were here to woo him off his feet and get paid.
Ward's words echoed in your mind—get his attention off her. And what better way to do that than by keeping him occupied with small talk on the golf course?
You shrugged, "The more, the merrier, right?"
"Exactly.” He said, falling into step beside you as you headed down the fairway. "So, how long have you been playing?"
You hesitated, not wanting to admit that this was your first time on a golf course. "Oh, you know, just getting into it recently," You replied vaguely, hoping he wouldn't press for details. "How about you?”
Rafe ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Been playing since I was a kid," he admitted. "It's kind of a family thing."
Of course, it is. Rich people. Nothing like a little golf for some family bonding time. But it gave you the opening you needed to make a personal connection. Nothing like sharing personal information to establish contact.
 “That’s cute. My family thing was shoving pizzas down our throat every Friday.”
Rafe chuckled at your comment, the sound genuine. “Pizza Fridays sound pretty great, actually."
You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe this wouldn't be as awkward as you'd feared. "Yeah, they were definitely the highlight of the week," you admitted. "But I have to say, golf seems a lot more... sophisticated."
Rafe raised an eyebrow. "Sophisticated, huh? You must be hanging out with the wrong crowd."
You felt yourself relax a little more with each passing moment. 
"Maybe I just need the right teacher," you said, giving him a sideways glance.
Rafe's smile widened, and he stepped a little closer, "Well, lucky for you, I happen to know a thing or two about golf."
 "Is that so?" you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden flutter in your stomach.
Rafe nodded, his expression turning more serious. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If you're interested, I'd be happy to show you."
You could feel every little detail, like how close you were and the intensity in his eyes, like they were trying to unravel some mystery hidden deep inside you. 
No, no, no.
Pull yourself together! You mentally slapped yourself, shaking off the dreamy haze that seemed to cloud your brain whenever he looked at you. You had goals, a mission to nail, and getting all googly-eyed over some suave, wealthy guy was not on the agenda. 
You flashed him this playful grin, trying to play it cool even though your heart was doing somersaults in your chest.
 "Oh, I dunno," you teased, taking a little step back to collect yourself. "Golf lessons? Sounds like it could burn a hole in my wallet. Can't be going broke over a new hobby."
Rafe chuckled, his eyes lingering on you for a second before he backed off, “You think I’d charge you?”
The way he said it, so casually, it sent a thrill through you, but you knew better than to let yourself get carried away. This was part of the game, after all.
“You’re always this nice to strangers?”
His blonde, tousled hair fell just so, framing his angular jawline, while a subtle stubble added a rugged charm to his appearance. And his smile... ugh, it's like he knew how fine he was. Rafe had this smirk that was just... chef's kiss. And his eyes? Sparkling like he was up to no good but in the best way possible. You couldn’t stop staring. 
“Only the pretty ones.” he replied smoothly, his tone dripping with flirtation.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, trying to maintain your composure despite the butterflies dancing in your stomach. But damn, if he didn't have a way with words.
"Well, lucky me then," you quipped, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. “But don't think you're getting off that easy. 'M not just some pretty face, you know.
Rafe raised an eyebrow, gaze fixed on your hands as you moved them to fix your ponytail, “Is that so?"
Ah, you have no idea.
"Guess you'll just have to stick around to find out,” you replied with a cheeky wink, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you. “But fair warning, I'm not exactly a pro at this.”
Rafe chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Don't worry,” he said, his voice softening. “I'll go easy on you.”
His confident demeanor was infectious, and you couldn't resist playing along.
“Who said I wanted easy?”
He tilted his head slightly, his hair shifted with the movement, “You think you can take me?”
With that, he gestured for you to take the next shot. You could feel his eyes on you as you lined up your shot, the weight of his gaze fueling your focus.
Taking a deep breath, you blocked out all distractions and focused on the ball. Grip firm, eyes locked on the target, you swung the club with all the force you could muster.
The ball sailed through the air, soaring gracefully before landing with a satisfying thud on the fairway. You couldn't help but grin as you watched it roll to a stop, a surge of pride coursing through your veins.
Rafe let out a low whistle, his expression somewhat impressed. "Not bad," he conceded. "Let's see if you can keep it up."
“Sounds like you’re scared…”
His eyebrows practically hit the sky when you threw down the gauntlet, his lips curling up. "Scared?" he shot back, his voice oozing with playful doubt, “Of you?”
Oh boy.
“Of losing.”
“Pretty girl, I don’t lose.”
Yeah, we’ll see about that. 
“And you’d swing a lot harder if you arched your back just a little.”
"How so?” you retorted, your tone teasing.
Rafe stepped up behind you, his presence suddenly much closer than before. His large hands gently adjusted your posture, touch gentle yet firm. 
"Like this," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he guided you through the motion.
The warmth of his palms seeped through the fabric of your shirt, sending a wave of tingles across your skin. His fingers rested lightly against your sides, the pressure just enough to provide guidance without feeling intrusive. You tried to focus on his instructions, on the proper form and technique, but it was so fucking hard with him standing so close.
Every subtle movement, every brush of his body against yours…goddamn. You bit your lip to stifle a gasp, unable to believe how good it felt to have him so close.
"Alright, let's work on that swing.”
 There was a confidence in his tone, a subtle reassurance that made you want to combust on the spot. The way his voice rose and fell with each word…it was difficult to do anything with the sensation of his touch sending your senses into overdrive.
You tilted your head slightly and threw out the question, "Like this?"
Before he could even answer, you couldn't resist the urge to push the boundaries a bit. So, you arched your back ever so subtly, pressing yourself back into him. It was a total spur-of-the-moment move. 
There was a beat of silence that felt like an eternity. And then, oh my god, you felt his hands tighten slightly on your waist.
“Just like that.”
But then he stepped back and you couldn't help but feel disappointment at the loss of his proximity. You gave yourself a mental shake and got back into the swing of things – pun totally intended.
Grabbing the club again, you were all set to take your next shot. With Rafe's tips fresh in your mind, you took a swing, putting everything you had into it. And would you believe it? The ball actually went where you wanted it to, landing way closer to the hole than you expected.
Rafe's reaction was priceless. His eyebrows shot up again, and there was this look in his eyes like, this time he was genuinely impressed.
Score one for you.
But you weren’t about to get cocky just yet. So, you gave him a smirk and threw down the gauntlet. 
“Funnily enough, I never lose either.”
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cambrinkisbae · 13 hours
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚scary love˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
nika muhl x reader
summary - you've never experienced true love until nika came along and part of you doesn't believe that you deserve her.
word count - 1.6k
themes :
-angst
-fluff
warnings :
-arguing
-cursing
a / n - inspired by scary love by the neighborhood and dedicated to my love (not the bad parts though only the sweet ones!)
Nika's hair always felt nice on my bare chest. I felt at peace when I'd wake up to her lips just barely touching my collarbones. my hands were still tangled in her hair but I slowly twirled some strands in between my fingers. this didn't feel right. it felt right in the moment but in the back of my mind, I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve to have this perfect woman in my arms. it felt like I took up her warmth. I slowly peeled my arms off of her back and slid out from under her. her head gently fell against the pillow I was previously lying on. I watched as she didn't make a single move. I stood there and admired her messy hair sprawled out on the silky pillowcase. her fingers tightened around nothing but fabric, I could tell she wanted me back there. but I still walked to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. brushed my hair and brushed my teeth with the same thought running around my head. the same thoughts.
I can't fuck this up 
yet the moment I felt okay and comfortable, a flip had switched. a couple of weeks after that morning I was feeling amazing. I felt like everything I was blessed with was meant for me. but the second an ounce of doubt ran through my head, I blew.
"Baby who is this?" Nika said holding my phone to my face. her voice was soft and calm but part of me still felt threatened. it wasn't anyone. it was just my best friend and I happened to have her contact as "babe💞" the same emoji I had next to Nika's name on my phone. I knew that it was just my best friend and nothing more but for some reason, I felt the need to panic. as if I had something to hide. "oh. uh, it's just- no one." I snatched my phone out of her hand leaving it empty as if it was searching for something to grasp onto. I held my phone to my face as I quickly changed the contact back to my best friend's name and a red heart next to it. I felt guilty for nothing. when I looked up I saw Nika with watering eyes ready to burst. and suddenly I copied. this is the last thing I wanted. Had I fucked it up? "y-you can tell me who it is." her voice was trembling beneath her lips. I could tell that inside she was fuming and wanted to explode but she had always hidden her angry side from me so she refused to blow. I quickly stepped closer to her body, cradling her jaw. I tried to calm her down without telling her the truth even though I knew that was what would fix things. something was stopping me. She tilted her head in the opposite direction of my hand, ripping her skin from my own. "who was it? just fucking tell me." why didn't I tell her. why couldn't I? I rested my hands against my stomach trying to control my increasing breath. "i-i don't know." my voice trailed off with shaky breaths. what the fuck was stopping me. I held onto my arms pretending it was Nika. the room went quiet after Nika took a couple of deep breaths. Nika finally turned around and showed her damp face. her eyebrows furrowed when she saw that I had been crying too. "why are you crying? what do you have to be crying about?" she pointed her finger at my chest, gently bumping me back. I took a breath, stumbling over my air while wiping tears from my cheeks as fast as I could. I tried to keep it together and not sob out of frustration. "it's not anyone Nika I promise." I practically pleaded between words.
"then why won't you tell me!?" her hands flung through the air drastically.
"Please you gotta trust me, baby." I dipped my head into my palms.
"how am I supposed to trust you when you can't even tell me who you're calling babe?"
"It's just a nickname," I whispered under my breath.
"Jesus Christ." her hands were tangled in her hair as she paced around the room.
"I'm sorry" I croaked out between hidden sobs.
I felt weak.
"do you realize that I love you? more than anything in the world and if you do too you need to fucking show it!" she said with her back faced to me.
I held onto that. She loved me more than anything in the world. and I loved her more than myself.
"I-" I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off.
"no. You can explain to me once you actually know how to"
Nika walked out of the door and to her car. I knew where she was going. she drove all the way back to campus to see Paige. it's where she always went when she was upset. So there I was sitting on the edge of our bed. crying to pass the time that was only filled with hope for her coming back through the door and giving me time to explain. I slowly moved to the floor and sat against the wall instead. My knees curled up to my chest. my jeans soaked up all the tears that came out of my eyes. I held onto my shins and sobbed for the rest of the night. it was only at around 3 am that I decided to get up and change something. I brushed through my hair and changed into sweatpants and a cropped tank top. I changed from my slippers into tennis shoes before leaving the apartment and walking to campus. it took me thirty minutes to get there and about ten minutes to get the balls to knock on Paige's door. the door swung open to reveal Paige staring at me. blanker than usual. she was obviously mad and that made me feel even worse. "uh- can I come in?" I know Paige loved me and Nika together and separately so she let me in and sat herself on her couch. "she's in my room." she spit out blandly while motioning her hand behind her head.
"did you walk here?" Paige questioned while shoving leftovers in her mouth.
"yes," I said while walking down to where Nika was. the door was cracked open enough for me to see her lying on Paige's bed. no covers and not a pillow. just flat sheets. I hesitated with my hand hovering over the door knob before creaking open the door. Nika was asleep, which I was part thankful and sad about. She used to say that it was almost impossible to sleep without me. I could tell that she wasn't completely out though. I can always tell now from the number of times I've walked in on her sitting up waiting for me to come back from the bathroom. She would always have a goofy smile on her lips once I called her out for fake sleeping. I chose to lean against the wall after closing the door instead of sitting on the edge of Paige's bed like how I wanted to. I watched Nika's chest rise and fall with every melancholy breath she took in her sleep. A million things went through my head questioning what she could be thinking about. A small hair fell down the side of her face and I took no time to reach and move it back behind her ear. I guess she's a light sleeper without me. she blinked her eyes open and I wanted to cover my face. her eyes were locked with mine for half a second before she looked down at the pale purple sheets she was lying on. we sat in silence for what felt like forever until I spoke.
"it was my best friend. the girl in my contacts." I explained, waiting for Nika to even look at me.
"We have this inside joke where we call each other babe and it was brought up the night before so I thought it would be funny to change her contact to that but I'm now realizing that it was a bad thing to do while in a relationship and I'm so so sorry, I don't want to lose you and I feel like I just did you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I don't know what I'd do without you-" my words began to trail off before Nika stood up and held her finger to my lips.
"stop." her hand rested on my hip while she stared into my eyes for the first time in 2 hours. I got caught in her eyes. her touch and her breath and everything else. she sighed and looked at the floor then back up to me.
"It's okay," she whispered while wiping the few tears that fell down my face without me noticing. she pressed her forehead against mine while moving her hands to the small of my back. a shiver ran up my spine when I felt her touch on my uncovered skin.
"I love you, Nika. so much more than you think. I'm so" my voice began to break "I'm scared that something will go wrong. that's the only thing that has ever happened to me. I get in an argument and then it's over. if that happened between us, I- I don't know what I'd do." Nika nodded along while I spoke.
"I am never. ever. going to pull that kind of shit on you beba."
Nika's accent calmed me. her words seemed to flow more when her accent was present.
I wrapped my arms around Nika's body pulling her in tightly. I pulled away to see her staring in absolute awe. her hands ran over my hair, slowly twirling strands between her fingers like how I used to.
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her-midas-touch · 3 days
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marylily coming back to their apartment after parties stumbling to the door just full on making out, smiling against messy kisses with their hands all over each other while one of them uselessly fumbles with opening the door and they stumble into the hallway not breaking apart, nearly tripping over themselves with just this giddy wanting to be so torturously close to each other like it’ll never truly be close enough.
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corpupine · 22 hours
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I've been doing a lot of thinking...and I feel like I need to scream this out somehow even though I'm sure it's been talked about before (and I'm putting it under a readmore because it gets long).
No matter what, in any playthrough you do and any timeline you create.
UNDERTALE is a game about guilt.
You have Toriel, so guiltridden she couldn't protect her own children that she devotes herself to never letting another child leave again. And then they do!! over and over again, that guilt compounds until it's the center of her life and every choice she makes!!
And obviously Asgore, so guiltridden that he couldn't protect his own children from humans that he spends the rest of his days trying to get out and get revenge on them--as if that will stop the voices in his head saying, if you had been out there with them you could have stopped it, you could have stopped those humans from killing your children, and maybe he could have!! Or maybe not!! He'll never know and it eats him from the inside out!
Alphys, oh my sweet summer child this fandom does not deserve you!! Alphys, so guiltridden from her own perceived failures as a scientist that she began to try anything, anything to make the King happy, and it seemed to be working at first, and then it was so everlastingly worse, how can you cause something worse than death?? without even trying??
And it shows up in little ways, silly ways, too! Ways you wouldn't even think about as guilt! Undyne! She feels guilty that she won't let Papyrus join the Royal Guard so she gives him cooking lessons instead! Papyrus feels guilty that he's not in love with you after one date so he'll "keep being your cool friend and act like this never happened!"
SANS MY BOI don't even get me started. His guilt isn't as physically obvious but he made a promise to toriel, he promised her he would keep the human safe, and in timelines where you save everyone he follows you pretty much all throughout the Underground (even if he doesn't do anything to help smh) because he'd feel guilty not doing it, and in timelines where you kill everyone he feels guilty for not stopping you, AND in those SAME timelines he feels guilty for stopping you because it means he's breaking his promise to Toriel to keep you safe I!!! This boy can fit so much cosmic guilt in him!!!!
Asriel! FLOWEY!! Do you ever wonder if he feels guilty about being the one to wake up again? The one to survive, when Chara had to die twice?? He sits at their grave and he will do anything, anything to drown out those thoughts so he befriends and kills and torments and it's all the same and it's all useless!!
And their guilt compounds each others'! Toriel makes Sans make that promise because of her own guilt, which increases his! Asgore's guilt is what pushes Alphys so far past the limits of ethical science, because he increases hers!
And all of this, all of this, ALL OF THIS pales in comparison to you!!!
You!! The player! You return to the Underground after maybe accidentally killing Toriel or a few others because you didn't know, you never wanted to hurt them!! You listen to Flowey and you come back and you save them all!
You! The player!!! You cry at the ending and you'd feel guilty, so guilty about letting them all go, wouldn't you? So you ignore Flowey's pleas to let it alone, and you come back again, you say hello to your dear friends but this time it isn't the same, this time you kill them all because you want to see everything this game has to offer, might as well get your money's worth, the fights are cool, right?? And then you get hit with the most unsatisfying atomic bomb of an ending and the only thing left is your own reflection staring back at you from the black screen of your computer as the horror dawns, what have you done???
YOU!!! The player! You go back again even though there is no Flowey left to tell you to, and you save them all again because I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, nobody deserves what I did to all of you, and it's all good, nobody remembers, and then you get to the end. The game knows what you did!!! It never forgot, and it'll make certain you never forget either!! Guilt!! Guilt, guilt!!! It's baked into the code of this game!!
Anyways tl;dr, maybe it actually did make sense to give this game to the pope
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bluerthanvelvet444 · 3 days
Text
ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆。˚ ⁀➷
(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
tags: sfw and nsfw.
warnings: none.
character count: 7k.
this was a request!
ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆。⁀➷
He LOVES playing games with you.
Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.
He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.
His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.
“Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.
“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.
“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.
“Who said I paid for it?”
He takes you anywhere you want.
You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.
You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.
In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.
He always matches your mood.
If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.
If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.
If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.
He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.
You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.
“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.
“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.
“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.
“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.
“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.
“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.
“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.
“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.
He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.
His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.
“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.
“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”
“Oh.”
ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆。˚ ⁀➷
He’s horny 24/7.
Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.
You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.
“I barely touched you…” You teased.
“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.
He’s such a switch.
You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.
“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.
“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.
He’s open to all types of sex with you.
Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.
Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.
Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.
Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.
No toys!
One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?
He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.
Quickies in public are more common than you think.
With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.
“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.
“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.
He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.
“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind
a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶
all rights reserved!!
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