#not bad like guilty but idk the word for what i feel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinhaler · 12 days

Note

Uf!Sukuna pulling reader into the shower with him after winning a match 😮‍💨

Writing this bc I don't wanna deal with writing the follow up rn LMAO idk if I wanna count this as canon or not but I guess it doesn't really matter either way. Enjoy hotties!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, underground fighter!sukuna, blood/injury detail, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), daddy kink, spanking, pussy eating, male masturbation, hair pulling, showerhead usage (iykyk), oral fixation, praise, mutual pining??, vaginal sex, creampie.

words: 2.6k

It doesn’t take you long to jump out of bed and rush to the front door when you hear a knock. You already know who it is. As you open the door, you see him looking down at your welcome mat, and he’s closer than you’d expected him to be. His arm resting on the door frame and the way his body is hunched over makes it seem as though he’s already inside.

He looks up at you, grinning widely, and the sight makes you gasp.

“You’re bleeding.” you say, doing all you can to stay quiet and composed so you don’t disturb Megumi while he sleeps.

He spits on the ground, a bright red glob soon washed away by the rain almost as quickly as it lands. His chest rumbles with each breath, you’ve never seen him like this before.

You’ve never had to worry about him before.

“You stood me up.” he chuckles darkly, body becoming drenched by the downpour the longer you stare at each other. “Why didn’t you come? Wanted you to see me win.”

“I—” you stop yourself, shaking the explanation away as you look at his features. The way blood perfectly frames his teeth as a bloody cut from his nose continues to pour and trickle into his mouth. “I’ve seen you fight, how did this happen? You’d never let someone land a hit on you like this.”

He moves to come in, but you block his path instantly. And at that, he rolls his eyes. It’s what he likes about you, your stubbornness. It drives him crazy. He knows you aren’t to be taken lightly and you aren’t the type of girl to yield to him without reason.

“You were meant to come watch me win tonight, princess,” he reminds you. There’s a twinge of guilt in your eye that he doesn’t miss, it even gives him an opening to let himself into your home.

He knows better than to raise his voice or do anything to make you worry. He knows how badly you strive to be a good influence to your little brother and how you only want to do right by him. He knows how guilty you feel for continuing to see him behind your brother’s back.

But he can see in your wanton stare as you look up at him so meekly, you feel even guiltier for disappointing Sukuna.

And that is why you decided not to show up tonight.

“I did win, sweetheart, don’t worry.” he tells you, putting your mind at ease. Though it’s hard to feel fully comforted knowing the state his opponent has likely been left in after giving your lover such a gnarly injury. “I did let him hit me a few times.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask him, quietly. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

“’Cause you weren’t there tonight.” he responds, a wicked grin on his face as he tells you. “Wanted your attention tonight, and look how worried you are. Do you feel bad you didn’t come and watch daddy win for you?”

“A little.” you nod. “Your face looks fucked, they really got a good hit on you. You should really get that checked out.”

“And why would I do that when I know the best doctor in town?” he raises an eyebrow. He points at his face and scoffs lightly before speaking again. “This is nothin’, princess. Don’t worry. Think you owe me after you bailed on our plans. And I don’t mean I want you to patch me up.” he smirks as he takes your hand.

You’re a little ashamed that Sukuna has been here enough times to know where everything is, now. He pulls you along to your bathroom like he lives here. Like he’s always lived here. He closes the door as you enter it, locking it behind you as he pushes you against the white painted wood.

Your breathing quickens and your lungs expand. The deep breaths you take are enough to make you lightheaded, but you can’t lose yourself when you’re around Sukuna. He demands your mental presence as well as physical, no matter what you’re doing.

He needs to know you’re with him the way he’s always with you.

“We can’t.” you shake your head. “Megumi will hear.”

“I know.” he nods, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger before he bends down to kiss you. And you don’t resist, you never do. You never can. And he knows that. “I want to shower, ‘n I want you to come in with me, darlin’.”

He pulls away just a little so that he can lift his vest over his head and toss it aside. His muscles ripple even in the darkness of the bathroom. Your hand instinctively searches for the light, eager to see him properly. But he does it for you, easily flipping the switch so that the room fills with a cool blue light. It makes you shiver, although that could just as easily be him.

He's so imposing, so intimidating.

“Megumi will hear us, we can’t.” you remind him, and you’re met with a string of shushes before he kisses you again, the coppery taste of blood stains your tongue, but you don’t mind. You barely even notice as your own blood seems to rush to your head. He’s already pulling at your pyjama top, and you’re letting him. He strips you of the material before threading his fingers through your hair, his tongue tangling with yours as you moan into his mouth.

“I don’t care if he does,” he laughs lightly before kissing you again. “And I don’t think you do either, I think you want to fuck a winner tonight. And I want my prize.”

You don’t answer, you just kiss him again. He laughs into it as he picks you up with ease, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his torso before he carries you towards the shower.

“He’s gonna kill me for this.” you laugh too, a little breathless as he puts you down.

He yanks down your sleep shorts and lifts you into the tub. You watch him as he removes his joggers and climbs in after you, spinning you around so your back is to him. He gropes your tits roughly, lips sucking harshly into your neck as he pinches your nipples.

“Turn on the water.” he breathes into your skin, your back arching from the sensuality of his whispered tone and almost aggressive touches. You yelp as he spanks you, covering your mouth quickly when you realise what you’ve done. “Now.”

He drops to one knee as you do as you’re told, grasping the fat of your ass while you fiddle with the shower head and water settings. You try to supress another yelp as the cold water hits you first, but you’re soon distracted as Sukuna begins to grunt against your soft skin as he kisses you fervently.

“You’re perfect.” he muses, gripping your hips and prompting you to turn and face him. He looks up at you like you were heaven sent. Like you’re a gift from designed to perfectly suit him. It makes you feel like a Goddess, and it makes you moan as he places a hand under your thigh and guides you to rest your foot on the edge of the tub. “Daddy’s perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

He kisses your clit repeatedly before he begins to make out with your cunt. You throw your head back against the tiled walls, moaning louder as you watch him take hold of his length and begin to play with himself. He moans into your folds as he strokes his length calmly.

It makes you heady.

To see him so nonchalant as he touches himself, getting off to your pleasure rather than prioritising his own. You know how good he is in bed. You’ve known what a good fuck he is from the day you met.

But you’ve never been as turned on as you are now.

When he said he wanted to claim his prize, you assumed he meant he wanted to cum. You assumed he wanted to use you so that he could achieve that. But you were wrong; you misjudged him, as you often do.

He isn’t an immature fuckboy who only wants one thing from you. He’s already had it, and he still comes back to you. He wants more. He needs more. You aren’t an object to him, and you certainly aren’t an easy screw.

Fucking you has never been his prize.

It’s you.

It’s always been you.

You tug his hair roughly as your body begins to shudder, overcome with the realisation that he cares for you and not just your body. He releases his hold of himself as he once again decides to prioritise you. He grabs your hips and buries his face even further into your cunt, his licks and laves unrelenting as he torments your clit until it can’t take anymore.

“S-Sukuna!” you cry out, convulsing as your thighs clamp around his head. He doesn’t even mind. He spanks you, but there’s no intent to it. The water makes the slap louder than you’d have liked. But, again, neither of you seem to care.

He continues to moan as he devours your release, humming into your core greedily before he finally frees you. His face shimmers as he looks up at you, a look of contentment as his features are doused in a combination of the water and your arousal.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you again, and you’re soon caged between his body and the wall. You can barely think straight as water rains down on both of you, the shower doing all it can to wash away the evidence of Sukuna’s bloody brawl from his pretty face.

“You taste so fuckin’ good baby,” he mumbles clumsily against your lips, offering you praise to consume before kissing you again. “You make me fucking crazy y’know? Think about you all the time…”

“Shut up.” you laugh.

“I mean it. Don’t laugh.” he smiles down at you as he withdraws from the kiss. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

“We’re just fucking. You’re so—”

“You talk too fucking much. You know that?” he smirks. He turns you around with ease, pressing your cheek into the damp tiles as he sucks your neck and bites your shoulder. “Think I better bury my cock in you, might stop you from thinking so much.”

You don’t say another word, allowing him full control of your mind body and soul as you succumb to his will. There’s nothing for you to grab onto despite aimlessly searching as his cockhead teases your entrance. He notes your desperation, tugging your wrist into the small of your back as he uses it for leverage while he slowly pushes into you.

He snickers as you emit a resounding moan from being stretched to your limit. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, you’ll never get over how truly monstrous his length is. So thick and heavy, so long and suffocating. With each slow rut of your hips, you can’t help but think his cock is closing your airways.

You feel him so deeply, so intimately, you can’t stop yourself from whimpering as he fucks you harder.

Harder.

With no desire to rush, each stroke is slow and purposeful. Your body feels weak, and weaker still as he begins to pepper your bare skin in adoring kisses. It’s almost as if you could slip down the drain and wash away with the rest of the water.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, gruffly, grabbing your jaw to angle your face so that you’re looking at one another. “Tell me.”

“Y-You,” you answer, pathetically, and he doesn’t allow you to say another word. Not before forcing his tongue into your mouth, silencing you with a searing kissing.

“Do you want to cum, hm? Do you want to cum on daddy’s cock?”

“… Yes,” you reply, your voice nothing but a desperate rasp as you long for him to make you feel good the way only he can.

And you’re taken aback as he begins to move, you both do. Suddenly you’re facing the shower again, and you hunch forward as he reaches above you to pull it off the hook. You don’t see the grin on his face as he observes your bewilderment. You watch the metallic head lower with the intensity of a hawk.

You know what he’s doing, but you also can’t help but think you might be imagining things. He’s doing what you had done to yourself for so many years before you knew about sex toys, before you even knew why it felt so good when you let the water massage you there.

But he is.

He shoves the showerhead between your folds, the stream of water assaults your clit in a way you’d almost forgotten could be so satisfying. The pressure makes you scream, but he’s quick to cover your mouth. The shock of the showerhead had distracted you from the fact he’s still pounding into you. His pace quickens and your mind goes blank.

“Thought you didn’t want Megumi to hear? Am I making you feel too good, princesss? You wanted to cum, so you’ll cum like this.”

You nod, pitifully, too eager to finish again to think of a clever retort.

Two fingers penetrate your mouth in a bid to silence you. And you never disappoint him, it’s like he has you trained. You suck, humming contently around his digits as his thighs slam against yours again and again and again.

Your knees give in, finally, as you cum for him. He does his best to hold you in place, careful to not let you fall as your body quivers. You’re weary, he knows.

But he’s more determined than ever, now.

He puts the shower back in its place, the water becomes a blanket for you as you still continue to tremble through little aftershocks.

His movements are quicker and harsher. The warm water contrasts how you feel, how he’s holding you. He’s a behemoth of a man, without really trying you know you’ll be bruised tomorrow. Especially your thighs. The way he’s ramming into you with one goal in mind makes you heady, but all you can do is drool around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he grunts, somehow still finding the energy to fuck you harder. His fingers dig into your hips, and his breathing becomes jagged. He cums hard for you, moaning loudly as he does. It comes deep from his lungs and gives no attempt to stifle himself, it’s almost like a roar.

A beast claiming its kill.

A king claiming his prize.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he murmurs, once again decorating your cold skin in loving kisses.

You feel empty as he pulls out, but he doesn’t care. He pulls your body into his, wrapping his muscular arms around your frame. His lips are on yours and you feel like this is your reward. Feeling so safe and loved in his hold despite knowing what you know.

He isn’t the type of man to hold affection for, and deep down you know what you are to each other. No matter what he says you aren’t stupid. You aren’t foolish enough to think this thing between you is anything more than sex.

But right now, you don’t care.

You do feel love from him and for him.

“Will you stay?” you ask sheepishly. Despite immediately regretting asking, you can’t help but stare into his eyes as you await his answer.

And instantly, he nods. “Yeah, princess. I’ll stay.” he kisses your forehead. “Let’s get cleaned up first.”

#💌 — luxe mail #📨 — requests #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu #jjk x fem!reader #tw blood #tw daddy kink #tw praise

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blue-jisungs · 3 months

Text

making up with them after a fight ♡

author's note. minho’s one is so relatable to me i hate it sm :(( like idk sometimes i don’t wanna be touched but i have struggles wording it out and im afraid ill hurt someone w my reaction… <\\3 sigh… yeah, can u tell it’s self indulgent?

warnings. yn falls asleep in a bathtub,, pls dont do that!!!, cursing, lmk if i missed anything

this is a continuation to fighting with them!!

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

you woke up in your and chris’ bed, which made your stomach turn. he must have brought you here.

suddenly sitting up, you noticed your boyfriend is absent. did he leave…?

jumping out of the bed you rushed to living room and were relieved to see him in the kitchen.

however, guilt washed over you upon seeing him so… lifeless, hurt.

“hi” you whispered, clutching your shirt. chan looked at you and smiled softly, nodding his head.

“morning. there’s some coffee for you, breakfast will be done in a few minutes” he hummed and returned his gaze to the pan.

“chan, listen… i’m sorry i snapped at you yesterday. yes, i was tired but…” you hesitated, voice cracking “that’s not an excuse, really”

“i’m just worried, y/n” he said and his features softened.

“i know, i know” you hung your head low, afraid that tears will escape any second “it’s just… work has been shit lately and it’s draining me emotionally and physically… and i just…”

“hey, hey. it’s okay. i understand it. that’s why i’m here, right? to help you. but to help you, i need to know first” chan walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you. this warm, secure hug made you feel at ease “but i won’t be able to know if we don’t talk”

“i know… i’m so, so sorry. for snapping and for acting like an asshole… i’m sorry channie” you cried, pouring your heart out.

“i forgive you, y/n. i already did. let’s just treat this as a lesson, okay?” chan soothed you gently “let it out, baby. i’m here”

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you and minho became distant. you began touching and kissing him less, head overflowing with worries each time when physical contact involved. eventually, you stopped. you just greeted him in the morning or after work.

and minho hated this.

he knew it was his fault because he snapped you. and if he didn’t do anything about it, your relationship might be on a thread... if it wasn't already.

so one day, when you woke up… you felt a soft kiss being pressed to your arm. you smiled gently to yourself, trying to remain calm. what is he scheming…?

"y/nnie… i’m sorry"

you turned around, frowning. lino’s eyes softened but there was a glint of sadness in them.

"i snapped at you when i had a bad day already. and… it was one of those days when i just don’t want to be touched, even by you. it- it sounds so idiotic but i promise you, it’s not your fault…" minho started and you bit your lip. your hands ached to cup his face and– "i can see you’re thinking about it. it’s fine, i’m fine. no, actually i’m not. i missed your touch and kisses so so much. and i feel like an idiot because i’ve brought it on me but above all…”

he hesitated and tapped your finger. you nodded, granting him permission to hold you. in an instant, he shuffled closer and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

"i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i can’t even imagine how you must have felt, thinking if ill snap at you today too… im so… fucking… sorry… " minho’s voice broke off and you felt his body shiver.

"it’s okay, min. i forgive you, don’t feel guilty. just tell me next time, okay? i understand that on some days you’re feeling like you don’t want to be touched, i respect that" you hummed into his skin, drawing shapes "just tell me"

"i will" minho smiled softly, heart warming because of your words, kindness, and touch.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

with a shaking hand you dialed changbin’s number, looking at the droplets falling in front of you. he picked up instantly.

"hello, baby?" he asked, concern in his voice. you took a deep breath, trying to control your breaking voice slightly at least.

"you… um, you were right…" you mumbled, sniffling.

silence fell and you were expecting an 'i told you so' or 'see?' but none of that happened.

"i’m sorry, pretty. i swear, next time i see them somewhere i’ll talk to them. i’ll pick you up, hm?" changbin asked and even though you knew he didn’t see, you nodded. your heart felt light that you didn’t fight again.

"i… um, i’m sorry. for being so defensive about them but… i was in the wrong…" a soft sigh left your lips and you heard a loud 'yah!' causing you to move your phone away for a bit.

"don’t apologize. i’m the one who should say sorry, truly. i just didn’t want you to get hurt again but… i took it to far, i said some messed up shit. sorry" chanbin’s voice was gentle and then suddenly you heard a honk. eyes widening, you saw his car "also i may or may not have already been waiting here…"

"dumbass” you scoffed, wiping your tears and going to his car with a smile.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

hyunjin entered the house, frowning upon the silence. your shoes were on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, some miscellaneous items scattered around the living room.

"y/n?" he called out. no answer.

you weren’t in the bedroom either. hyunjin, growing anxious, opened the bathroom door.

he saw you sleeping in the tub, head almost barely above the water.

"yah, dumbass!" he yelped and dragged you a bit up, safe enough but still in the water. your eyes opened lazily, gaze unfocused.

"huh?" you blinked at him and saw genuine worry on his face.

"you fell asleep in the tub, y/n. i got so scared" he sighed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. he noticed your eye bags and it hit him like a truck: sure, dancing is his profession and he gets tired. but you, as a cleaning lady move as much as him and have to deal with other - usually assholes - people. you must be exhausted, even more than him.

then his gaze shifted to various scratches and bruises on your arms. you noticed it and smiled softly.

"it’s nothing, you know how clumsy i am. today i knocked over a broom and it hit my arm… it was kinda funny actually" you grinned but only saw sadness behind his eyes "hyune?"

"i… the thing i said the other day… i don’t mean it. i don’t think you’re just a cleaning lady, i shouldn’t say anything like this. and, it’s a bit stupid, but i realized just now… that at the end of the day, you’re probably as tired as me" he mumbled, voice small. you nodded, grabbing his hand.

"i won’t lie, what you said hurt me. but… i get it, you were tired and i got on your nerves–" you started.

"but i shouldn’t have bursted like that. let me take care of you now, hm? do you want me to wash your hair?" hyunjin asked, a cute smile finally blooming on his lips. you nodded energetically, causing him to giggle and place a tender kiss atop your head before proceeding to wash your hair.

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

when he left the party, glad to finally be out… someone grabbed his arm. he turned around and saw beomgyu.

"what?" jisung grunted, looking at the stranger.

"dude, i don’t know what’s your problem but me and y/n were literally talking about you" beomgyu said, letting go of his arm "besides, i’m taken"

jisung wanted to snarl 'so what?' but the sudden reality hit him: he threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat and almost went home without you. beomgyu scanned his face suspiciously, seeing the gears turn in jisung’s head.

"y/n loves you, i can see it in the way her face lits up when she speaks about you" beomgyu said and shrugged, adding before leaving "thought i’d just let you know"

jisung went back, looking for you. it turned out you stayed outside, gazing into the sky.

"um, hi" he mumbled, sitting down next to you. you didn’t reply "i’m… sorry"

"that was fast" you teased, bitterness shining through your voice.

"beomgyu walked up to me. i acted like an idiot, i know. i was just… jealous, i guess" jisung murmured almost incoherently, shy about his feelings. you turned around and sent him a sky smirk.

"you were what?"

jisung rolled his eyes playfully.

"i was jealous, are you happy?" he repeated louder.

"it’s fine. just… don’t yell at me. and let me finish, for god’s sake. if you listened what i had to say, you’d know that we were discussing which guitar i should buy you as a gift" you explained and saw his eyes widen. you couldn’t possibly stay mad any longer at this boba-eyed quokka.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

there was a doorbell echoing through the living room and you sent your friend a puzzled look. she shrugged and went to open the door.

"oh… y/n, it’s felix" she turned around and sent you a pitiful look. you just sighed, nodding. she let him in, scanning him head to toe threateningly, and left to her bedroom to give you some privacy.

"how did you know i’m here?" you asked, eyes avoiding his.

"(friend name) added a picture to the story that you’re here… so… um… i grabbed those and flew"

finally looking up, you noticed the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. felix handed you them and sat down next to you on the couch, hesitantly tapping his fingers on his thigh. he wanted to hold your hand but wasn’t sure if you wanted to right now.

"i’m a bad boyfriend, aren’t i? even seungmin knew you were fired" he sighed with a sad smile "i’m so sorry. there’s nothing that could… be an excuse"

you took his hand in yours, humming in thought.

"will you work on it? i missed you. i know work is busy but at least talk to me, eat breakfasts with me… if we don’t work it out, i’m afraid–" your voice broke, not even wanting to say those words.

felix hugged you tightly, holding you as close as possible.

"i know. i will work on it, i promise. i’ll try to clear my schedule and we can go on a trip to jeju maybe?" he mumbled into your shoulder.

he just got a last chance and he wasn’t going to blow it.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

returning home after three days, you entered the house only to see seungmin sleeping on the couch. the place was neatly cleaned, not even a single dirty spot in sight.

"oh, you’re back" seungmin murmured drowsily, leaning on his elbows "how was the stay?"

"good. why are you sleeping in the couch?" you asked, walking up to the fridge to put in the food your mom gave you. to your surprise, it was full with fresh groceries.

"i… uh, couldn’t really sleep well without you. i also have a thought about what i said and… listen, y/n, i’m sorry" he said "i really like your parents, i really do. i was just tired and… i don’t know what it’s like, that’s true. i didn’t consider your and their feelings… and i just hope your parents don’t hate me now because i’ll cry"

"i think they love you more than me at this point, my mom kept asking about you" you smiled softly, relieved to hear that you made wrong assumptions.

"just tell me a bit earlier if we’re going next time, okay?" he asked and you nodded with a happy grin "besides, it was lonely here without you"

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

"dude, what the fuck?" changbin asked, standing frozen. jeongin frowned "you were supposed to text eunjeong only to get the info about the cake, nothing more!"

that was true – they wanted to make you a surprise party because you passed your exams and eunjeong works in one of the best bakeries in the town, so they figured it’d be the best to text her.

"i got distracted… i didn’t know y/n would make such a fuss out of it" jeongin grunted and opened his phone to see your location on 'my friends'. he bit his lip, sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. if he found out you were texting your ex… he wouldn’t be pleased about it either.

"what are you waiting for? go after her! and don’t spoil the surprise, too!" changbin pushed him out of the dorm.

in no time jeongin caught up with you, grabbing your hand. you turned around, wet stains on your cheeks. he felt a sharp sting in his heart upon realizing it’s his fault.

"listen… i didn’t mean any of that. but i need you to trust me" jeongin said, squeezing your hand. you hesitated.

"why? i trust you i just… don’t trust her" you mumbled, wiping your cheek.

"i know, i’m sorry. you’ll see soon, okay? can you forgive me? i love you so much, i just didn’t think it would hurt you that way" he added shyly. nodding softly, you tightened your lips into a line.

"okay…" you hummed.

hopefully the cake will be delicious enough to regain at least a piece of your trust.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

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httpsserene · 5 months

Note

hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

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oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now.

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate.

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental.

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back.

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives.

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed.

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened).

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science.

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline.

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver.

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch.

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed.

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap.

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

2K notes · View notes

ultravioletrayz · 2 months

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a request? what about your edging miguel and so you let him cum since he begging it however we continuing to do it? and so what about this but with cumplay ? you know,and he.....like into it,like you playing with he cum, on his body.thigh. abs, idk anywhere and just licking it idk?

so a kinda dom/sub!miguel x fem!reader

yea im crazy for a whiny men whos loves anything we do and espically whimper and beg

you with me girlie?

Yes yes yes, totally with you.

The plot for this was inspired by this ask, btw!!

@ce3stvu tagging my bby girl <3

Pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x dom!f!reader

Warnings: 18+, handjob, edging, cumplay, cum eating, dacryphillia if you squint, themes of jealousy

Summary: you remind miguel who he belongs to

A/N: i love dom!migs, but something about imagining that big man all whiny and crying is sooo hot

Word Count: 1K

It’s all that stupid bitch’s fault. The thought is swirling around in Miguel’s head on repeat as his hips pathetically twitch and spasm upwards to try and loosen the grip you have around the blushing tip of his cock. Still, you merely apply more pressure, squeezing his poor head so hard your fingers act as a makeshift cock ring, making it impossible for Miguel to acquire any sense of relief as your other hand fondles his heavy, aching balls with little skill, your only goal being to tease him.

This was a much better way of reminding Miguel of your loyalty to one another than talking it out. Frankly, you didn’t even know how to approach discussing the topic. You were supposed to be Miguel’s angelic, bubbly little girlfriend. You didn’t want to cause a fight over some random spider-woman from work.

Instead, you smile from ear to ear as you watch the beads of tears that cling to Miguel’s gorgeous, thick eyelashes as he sobs and begs to cum, after you’ve denied climax after climax with your possessive grip around the thick circumference of his dick.

There’s no doubt in your mind that other spider-people can hear Miguel’s unapologetic whines from outside his office, and the thought makes your mind a hazy fog of lust and pride. Hopefully, that new girl that Miguel was training, the one that kept running her grubby hands all over his arms and back like you were an idiot and wouldn’t notice her blatant flirting.

You had initially felt guilty when you pulled Miguel away from his sparring session with the girl, leading him to his office with one goal in mind: reiterating that Miguel is yours and yours alone.

But now that he's been forced into becoming this mess of desperation and sticky pre-cum, your worries and shame have vanished. Only your touch can make Miguel feel this way, making him lose all of his self-control and dignity. And he does the same thing to you. Sure, an outsider would probably say all of this jealousy and possessiveness is toxic or overbearing, but you and Miguel can't help but cling to one another. You're each other's soulmates. That new girl could never compare.

"Hah- ah, fuck! M-Mami, por favor… need- ah! need to cum. Please, please l-lemme cum-!" Miguel begs, his tear-stained cheek squished against the smooth material of your spider suit that conceals your tits, but the warmth of his face seeps through the fabric, his breath causing your nipples to perk up at the subtle contact as you lean over him and giggle.

You keep your fingers squeezed around his tip, rubbing his swollen head in circular motions as your other hand cups his balls in the comfort of your palm. The tension around Miguel’s tip is almost torturous, making him curse and thrash around in his office chair as he desperately attempts to make your hand slip even slightly so that his dick can breathe again.

The thick, chocolate-brown hair that adorns the tan flesh from his belly button down to his base caresses your forearm each time Miguel fails to push through the restraint of your fist and thrust into your closed hand.

You feel bad for taking your insecurities out on your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend, who was just trying to be a good boss and do his job, so you decide to give him a break.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, guapo?" You coo teasingly, releasing the pressure around the leaky head of Miguel's cock and instead starting to pump his shaft, your pace fast and sloppy as you make up for the time spent prohibiting Miguel from having any kind of release.

Miguel's climax hits him like a freight train, his back arching drastically and his claws digging into his seat as his rock-hard cock spurts bucket loads of cum up into the air, the gooey strands of his devotion to you hitting his toned abs and coating the hair on his thighs and stomach, creating a pooling mess of semen, sweat, and tears as he slumps back in his chair and splutters.

You watch with wide eyes as Miguel's cum decorates his tan skin, like an abstract painting of your composition. And you couldn't be more proud of yourself. In a hypnotised state of desire and devotion, you scramble to your knees in between Miguel's spread thighs.

With a smile on your face, you lick a fat, sloppy stripe from Miguel's pelvis up to his juicy pecs, gathering his cum on your flat tongue and swallowing. He tastes divine.

No other bitch would treat him like this, using her hands and mouth to worship him like you do. You lap up every thick glob of shimmering cum from Miguel's panting body, not even able to savour it due to your desperation to taste all of him.

"You taste so good, Mig." You moan, eyes fluttering at the salty, decadent flavour of Miguel's cum flooding your senses. Your hand keeps pumping him slowly, milking every last drop of his delicious cum from his cock as you worship his body and devour his essence as it glistens on his stomach and thighs.

Your free hand scoops up some of his mess to watch how the strings make your fingers stick together, before shoving your digits in your mouth and sucking the cum off your fingers.

Miguel chuckles and moans at the sight of his pretty girl so desperate to please him, all to ensure his loyalty. The fact that you're more willing to drag your wet tongue up and down his cum-covered, shivering body than have a conversation about your feelings is a little odd, but Miguel's not complaining. It's sweet to see how much you love him, and how much you hate that new bitch for thinking she stands a chance against you.

Miguel holds your chin in his hands and stops you from feasting on any more of his cum, directing your gorgeous face upwards so that you're staring into his eyes. You rest your tacky hands on his thighs, making him tremble ever so slightly at the way your skin sticks to his, binding the two of you together.

Breathlessly, Miguel whispers to you, his girl, his one and only, the love of his life, with a crooked smile on his sweaty, fucked-out face.

"Sólo para ti, hermosa."

sick and tired of miguel being depicted as the “jealous and possessive” one in the relationship. If I had a man like that, I’d be just as crazy

#ultravioletrayz #miguel smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man 2099 x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara #spider man 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you

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cweampier · 1 year

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leon loves it when you cry, your face covered in tears as he coos at you and licks them away <3 (i know from first hand experience)

god what he’d give. what he’d fucking give to have a cute girl crying in front of him IDK if i stuck with what you asked for sorry if i went off the rails a bit.. hehe

fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you pouted, the way you mewled as leon fucked himself between your thighs, chasing only for his release. he was so mean for that, and he knew it. but he couldn’t help it, seeing you so desperate for his dick enough to shed tears for it really ignited something inside him. an insatiable appetite presented itself to him.. and fuck did he love a good chase every once in awhile.

“l-leon.. please, want you so bad..” you hiccuped, trying to angle your hips to potentially get the head of his cock to penetrate your aching cunt to no avail. he couldn’t help but feel amused by your unrelenting pleads, so oblivious to how greedy you sounded. “poor baby.. so dumb and needy, what am i gonna do with you, mn?” he cooed as he leaned in closer to your face, swiping his tongue over your glistening cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears. he felt almost guilty for enjoying this as much as he was. he decided to continue to chip away at your patience, making sure to calculate his thrusts tactically enough to make contact with your neglected clit, bumping the tip of his pretty cock against it teasingly.

you were so confused, it was like you weren’t being heard. usually he spoiled you rotten, what’s with the sudden change? you stared back at him glossy eyed, in which he responded with a cocky grin before frowning mockingly. “you’re.. g’na finish what you started,” you responded, pathetic. he raised a brow, slowing his hips as he pressed them against the plumpness of your ass, cock slotted snuggly between your folds as he pressed his chest against your back. it earned a groan from the both of you, feeling his breath tickle your neck.

“it’s a good try but i don’t exactly take orders from desperate little brats,” he began, watching another tear roll down your disheveled face in awe, you really were something. “look at you all snotty face just cause you didn’t get it your way. want my cock bottoming out inside that greedily little pussy of yours so badly, don’t’cha? need me to pay extra attention to that clit’a yours? so cute..” he continued to egg you on with a filthy mouth, trying to get you to admit defeat. your lips pursed flatly together, feeling them tremble as more tears threatened to fall. you shut your eyes tightly before giving into his attempts to pester you further.

“inside,” you cry out dumbly, on the verge of tears once more to no one’s surprise. “wan’ your cock inside, leon, please-!” your head spun, leon fucking kennedy. only a man like him could ever hold the capabilities of having a pretty girl wailing for him to fuck her. “fuck me, leon, want it s’bad. promise, i’ll be good for you.. so good.” leon sat there, admiring his work, reducing you into nothing but a beseeching mess before him.

he sneered lightheartedly before parting your thighs swiftly with his hand, positioning himself in front of your sobbing pussy as the cool air brushed against it, sending shivers down your spine. “atta girl, that’s all i wanted to hear. see what happens when you use your words?” he lectured softly before unsheathing himself inside you, relishing in your plush walls as they welcomed him with earnest.. <333 ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#GRAHHHHHHHHH #scold me for being such a needy girl leon please #i hate him BAD. sly little fucker #but he gets me every time #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #cweampier

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jazzyoranges · 7 months

Note

Would it be possible if you could do a Tara Carpenter x fem!reader please? Maybe someone flirts with reader and tara gets mad and pulls reader into a room aggressively which hurts the reader, and starts like making out with her, but tara bites the readers lip out of anger and hurts the reader so she starts crying and then tara feels bad and comforts her and telling the reader it wasn’t her fault and that she shouldn’t have taken her anger out on the reader? Idk if that makes sense but if you don’t feel comfortable doing that then you don’t have to! 🫶

Jealousy - drabble

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Words: 0.9k

Warnings: angst(?), Tara is mean but bbg doesn’t mean it

A/n: lowkey inspired by @rollingsins All hers Tara (as in Tara deals with bad jealousy issues). also i changed a little bit of the request, but blink and you’ll probably miss it

Tara is by your side, yet you hear your name being called behind you. Deciding it’s probably nothing, you decide to keep talking to your girlfriend about god knows what. Unfortunately, the voice seems to keep getting closer until-

“Y/N, hey!” You feel a tap on your shoulder, and you whip your head around to see a girl you took english with. Sadie, was it? Tara immediately glares at the girl, but she’s too enthralled with you to notice her stare

“I didn’t think you were coming to this party! You look really good” There’s a hint of something in her voice, but you can’t figure out what it is. You determine she’s probably just being friendly. The two of you engage in small-talk you really don’t want to be in, but it doesn’t hurt being nice

“So, are you free tomorrow? I need help studying” Sadie winks at you, and you suddenly start to feel uncomfortable in her presence

“She’s with me tomorrow, actually” Tara buts into the conversation, sensing your tiny discomfort

“So don’t you fucking try any shit, you got that?” Your girlfriend points a finger in Sadie’s direction, causing her to take a step back. Tara storms off and you can hear Sadie mutter about how she’s a bitch. You shoot a glare at the girl, and try to spot Tara in the sea of drunk people dancing

“Tara, baby, she was just being friendly” You follow behind your angry girlfriend stomping upstairs away from the party

“Oh yeah, like she wasn’t checking you out. Everyone down there probably now thinks they have a chance, but you’re mine.” Tara practically growls, turning around to face you. You take a step back, but Tara just pulls you into a random guest room in the house

You’ve played this game before. Tara gets jealous, she fucks the shit out of you. But this time feels… different. When Tara pushes you against the door, she isn’t as gentle. When she crashes her lips into yours, Tara starts devouring you like she’s never going to see you again. You really start to get concerned when she starts to mutter words under her breath in between rough kisses

“Mine… you’re all fucking mine. Nobody else’s, all mine.” Tara murmurs, almost like a chant. Honestly, you feel a little guilty at how hot and bothered she’s making you feel

“Tara, stop.” This definitely isn’t healthy. Even though you’re a little turned on, you recognize this isn’t a good habit to have

“Shut up, you’re mine.” Your girlfriend hooks her thumbs into the belt loops of your jeans, forcing you to be closer to her

“Tara.”

“Say it. Say you don’t belong to that bitch.” Your final straw is when she bites your lip hard enough to draw blood. Planting your hands on her shoulders, you have to pry your girlfriend off of you. This wasn’t the Tara you knew. This wasn’t the Tara that would hold you during your nightmares. The Tara in front of you was filed by jealousy and anger.

When the brunette takes a good look at you through the darkness of the room, you can see her face contort into something akin to regret and remorse. Stray tears you didn’t know you had dripped down your face, your lip stung with blood, yet somehow you were still looking at Tara like she was the only woman to ever exist

“…Y/N?”

“Yeah, baby?” You sigh, taking your hands off her shoulders

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I just-“

“I know you didn’t mean to, baby.”

“Can I touch you?” Nodding your head, Tara wipes off the blood on your lip with her sleeve. Next, she wipes the tears off your face. Tara holds your face in her hands, looking like she just killed a puppy

“Tara?”

“Y-Yeah?” her voice breaks

“I’m not mad at you. We’re not going to break up because of tonight.” Your reassurance was enough to make Tara cry, pulling you into a hug. Her tears wet your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns right now. A slew of apologies ranging from “I love you so much, I’m sorry.” to “I’m so sorry this won’t happen again.” escape her lips and into your neck

You knew Tara had a bad problem with jealousy. You happily supported her during her therapy sessions, and you welcomed your girlfriends progress with open arms. Her anger must’ve been building over the past few weeks, because she was never this bad when it came to jealousy

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” She finally says. “I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you, baby. You don’t deserve that.” Tara’s eyes are red, and her sniffles make your heart break at how small she looks

“It’s okay, Tara. I know you’re trying, baby. How about we go home now?”

“Please? I’ll make it up to you, I promise” You pull Tara out of the room, and make your way to Tara’s car. The rest of the night, you two spend your time in each others arms settled in your girlfriends room

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter scream #scream #scream 6

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geminisecrets · 8 months

Text

You First

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! NSFW! Explicit sexual content, coarse language, oral sex, unprotected sex, mild drug and alcohol use, dirty talk idk I think that's it???

Word Count: 4750

Summary: friends with benefits turns complicated when someone's keeping a secret <3

Authors Note: It has been a long time!!! We really are amazed with the writers on here who never lose motivation and always put out the bangers, you guys make it look so easy and that's really cool!! But, alas, we have missed this and are happy to be getting back into the swing of things! We love you guys :')

Y’all are super duper fuckin' rad for telling us what you think about our stuff. ☯️

Requests are open :)

Join our tag list ✨

*disclaimer: apparently the gemini constellation is only seen in Dec/Jan but just pretend you can also see it in July gaslightgaslightgaslightgaskightgaslight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Jake, just tell me!” I laugh as Jake digs his fingers into my side, causing me to squeal louder.

“Some secrets are better kept…secret”, he responds with a grin on his face, finally easing up on me as I push him away. “Trust me.” I sit up straighter on his lumpy, familiar couch, but he doesn’t give me any more personal space. He has a way of doing that. Taking up my space. And I wish I could say it bothered me. “Besides, what if I was the one annoying the fuck out of you until you told me your deepest, darkest secrets?”

“First of all, drama queen, you never said this was a deep or dark secret, second, you know everything about me, I’m sure of it. I’m an open book. A free bird,” I respond enthusiastically, getting up off the couch and spreading my arms out like wings.

“Okay, free bird, you first. Are you going to admit you were faking your orgasm last night?” he asks, slouched into the couch, legs spread and hands folded in his lap. That same miserable grin is back on his face. I feel blood rush to my cheeks, coloring me guilty, immediately.

“Fine,” I shrug, attempting to appear unbothered. “Yes, I did. I was tired and you were taking too long.” His grin widens slightly, but his eyes squint as he reads me. It’s times like these, I wish he didn’t know me as well as he did. I really and truly do wear my heart on my sleeve and my emotions tend to play on my face, like a movie screen. “Your turn,” I shift, crossing my arms over my chest.

Jake stands and closes the gap between us in two long strides. His nose is practically brushing mine, he’s so close before he says, “Nice try,” and walks past me into the kitchen.

“I’ll pry it out of you one way or another”, I say, following him begrudgingly.

Jake and I have known each other for years. He was my first crush in middle school, who turned into my first boyfriend in highschool and after graduation, my biggest heartbreak. We tried the whole dating thing, but it was bad for both of us. Jake is very demanding of time and attention. He’s passionate and jealous and honest. I, on the other hand, have always been more free spirited, tending to go with the flow. We’re completely different. Fire and ice.

I could sit here and tell you all the ins and outs of how he hurt me, how I hurt him, and all of the baggage that comes along with young love, but I’ll spare you the sob story. Just trust me when I tell you that Jake and I don’t do relationships well. Neither of us. I couldn't tell you the last time I had a boyfriend for longer than a month before it crashed and burned. And Jake? Jake’s exact words to me the last time I asked were, “I don't really do girlfriends.”

That hasn’t kept us from ignoring the obvious, though. No, we’re well aware of just how well we do fit together physically. Without saying it in so many words we’d become friends with benefits, fast. When I’m home from school and he’s in town, there aren’t many nights we spend without each other. Jake might be too prideful to admit the same, but I can say, honestly, that he’s by far the best sex I’ve ever had.

“What time is everyone supposed to be here?” I question, as I watch him unload the dishwasher, stacking his coffee cups in the annoyingly particular way he always does.

Jake’s throwing a small party tonight with some of our old mutual friends from home, since most everyone is in town for the fourth of July. The usual suspects will be here, I’m sure of it. We’ll fall back into old habits. Playing stupid drinking games until half of us can’t see straight and have to Uber home with our heads hanging out the window in a desperate attempt to dispel the nausea.

I however, know without a shadow of a doubt, as much as I stand at the mirror and tell myself I won’t, that I will be in Jake’s bed tonight instead of the Uber in question.

As if on cue, the doorbell rings. “Come in!” Jake belts out.

“Long time no see!” Jake’s twin brother, Josh, calls from the front door with a lick of sarcasm under his tongue. He shuffles into the kitchen and unpacks what appears to be half of the entire liquor store onto the counter top.

Followed by Josh are Danny and Sam and their usual posse.They all say their hello’s and waste no time making their way into the kitchen to get the drinks flowing.

An hour later, the house is full and the laughs are loud. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the banter, the blaring music, the escape from reality and the ability this house, this town, has to make us all forget how much distance there really is between the lives we live now and the ones we left behind.

When it’s finally dark enough outside, we gather in the middle of the cul-de-sac and try our best to dodge the sparks flying off the dozens of fireworks Sam and Danny haphazardly detonate. Whoever decided to give control of the explosives to the two drunkest party guests should be criminally charged.

The party quiets down a little bit and migrates to Jake’s backyard. We sit around his dingy homemade fire pit and watch the rest of the fireworks go off all around the neighborhood. The joint being passed around mellows most of us out and we sit there with our heads on the backrest of our camp chairs, tilted to the sky.

“That right there is Gemini,” Sam says, pointing up towards the stars.

“Huh?” I overhear Jake question.

“The Gemini constellation, stupid. The twins?” he scoffs, sounding truly offended, as if this is common knowledge for just anyone.

“You sure you weren't just seeing fireworks?” Jake teases. Sam rolls his eyes into the back of his head and grunts out a rebuttal.

I think in Sam’s past-life he was some kind of hippie astronomer. He knows far too much about the cosmos for someone who decided against post secondary education. However, it’s a helpful tool to gauge just how far-gone Sam is. He always wants to talk about astronomy when he’s had one too many drinks.

The conversation merges into talk of the ‘Good Ol’ Days’ and it’s just a matter of time before–

“Remember when you and Jake tried dating?” Josh yells from the opposite side of the firepit, gesturing to me. There are a few chuckles and eye rolls from the group. Josh loves this story. Loves making me blush and riling his brother up.

I usually ignore it, but it drives Jake insane for some reason. He doesn’t always know how to keep his cool when he is annoyed, especially with his brother. “Is something funny?” he chides.

“Uh oh. Did I poke the bear?” Josh taunts, throwing me a wink.

I am all too familiar with their typical twin banter bullshit, I’ve been around it for years. They like to egg each other on until the other explodes, and if Josh keeps going, he’s going to get exactly what he’s wanting out of Jake.

“Come on, Josh, that topic is so tired, what about your tryst with that one guy…” Danny steps up to save the day and change the conversation as Jake turns to me.

“I’m tired,” he says quietly, yawning widely. Jake has a very small social battery and when he’s done, he’s done.

“Me too,” I breathe, catching his contagious yawn. As we stand to make our way inside, the rest of the party seems to naturally disperse as well. One by one, the party starts to fade out, until there is no one left but Sam.

“I have about $5 in my bank account so uber isn’t an option. Cool if I just crash in the guest room.” Sam says.

“Let me go grab my stuff out of there,” I offer, moving past him to reach for the door handle.

“Oh, shit, sorry I don’t want to put you out if that’s where you were planning on sleeping tonight,” Sam interjects.

“Sam, just go to bed,” Jake orders. I can’t tell if his curt response is due to the fact that I know he’s tired or if he doesn’t want to get into the logistics of exactly where I’d be sleeping instead.

Sam begrudgingly obeys and drags his near lifeless body into the bedroom. I follow him, flicking on the light and collecting my bag off the bed before wishing him goodnight. Before I even have the door completely closed, the light flickers off and we hear a loud thud.

“Jesus, it sounds like he catapulted himself onto the mattress,” Jake huffs out a lazy laugh, wiping away the sleep from his eyes and meanders into the bathroom.

“If I had nine shots of tequila and a rack of beers to myself, I’m sure I'd be doing the same”, I yawn, grabbing my bag and making my way to the living room.

I’ve almost got a little bed completely set up on the couch when Jake snatches the blanket from my hands.

“Come on,” he says, dragging my blanket down the hallway towards his room without muttering another word, let alone giving me half a second to respond. I follow him anyway, stopping in the doorway to watch him shuffle out of his jeans.

“Jake,” I nearly whisper. “If I sleep in here, will you tell me your secret?” I ask as coyly as I can muster at this ungodly hour in the middle of the night. His movements come to a halt when he pulls his shirt over his head, glaring at me.

“I think I’d tell you just about anything to get you to let me sleep,” he groans, but the upward tilt of a smile on his lips reassures you that there’s no real malice behind his words.

I roll my eyes and finally close the door behind me. By the time I take my makeup off and change into a t-shirt, he’s already in bed with the lamp off and the TV on, playing his usual reruns of Shameless. I crawl into bed next to him, and make myself comfortable.

This is…new for us. Sure, I’ve been in bed with Jake before, but not like this. This feels… domestic. Intimate in a way I’m not sure I know how to process. I peer up at Jake, watching him for a few moments as he watches the TV.

“So… this secret…” I coax.

“Hmm,” he barely acknowledges me.

“A deal’s a deal, Kiszka,” I remind him, shifting up on my elbow, my head in my hand, waiting for him to come clean.

“I don’t remember making any deals with you, succubus,” he suppresses a grin as he lazily tosses his arm up and under his pillow, eyes still fixed on the TV.

“I’m in your bed, aren’t I?” I ask, “Now it’s your turn to–”

“I’m pretty sure my exact words were ‘I’d tell you just about anything’. Emphasis on the ‘just about’ part.”

“Are you—”

“You’re gonna have to work a little harder than that,” he breathes out, no longer attempting to hide the smile that’s creeping onto his lips.

I let out a ‘humph’ and fall flat onto my back, arms crossed. I lay there awake for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to the ever soothing sounds of Southside Chicago from the TV.

There’s a kind of tension in the room that I don’t think either of us can really place. Sexual tension is not something Jake and I are strangers to. I’ve felt that with him since the day we met. This is not that. This feels tethered to something much deeper.

I think about giving up and calling it a night, but the longer I lay there the harder it is for me to fall asleep. Jake and I don’t do feelings. We’re friends, sure. Friends who have casual sex, but the boundaries we have in place are all unspoken.

I finally work up the courage to break the silence by rustling the sheets as I change positions to lay on my side, facing him. Lazily, he turns his head to look at me. His expression is blank as he waits for me to say something and I become increasingly aware of how close his face is to mine.

“What are you hiding, Jake?” I ask as I intertwine my leg with his under the covers. I feel my breath bounce off of his lips and back on to mine. He scoffs, turning his face back toward the ceiling and pinching the bridge of his nose as if I’m pestering him like a small child.

I maneuver myself even closer to him, my lips latching on to his neck, peppering kisses in a routeless path between his ear lobe and collar bone. I hear him exhale through barely parted lips as he relaxes into my advances.

“Sleepy?” I ask, not-so-subtly propositioning him.

“Not anymore,” he responds, tucking his hair behind his ear and sitting up on his elbows.

I shrug the covers off of myself and maneuver on top of him until I’m straddling his waist. His hands palm my naked thighs as I reach for the hem of his worn t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

I let him pull mine off as well and his hands latch on to my breasts almost instantly. Shaking my head, I peel them off of me and place them at his sides, holding them down tightly at the wrist. He gives me a look of confusion and I try and fail to suppress a grin as I lean in to kiss him.

His lips move slowly but persistently against mine and part for me immediately as I lick into his mouth. His tongue slides against my teeth and I take the opportunity to bite down on it gently, causing him to groan into my mouth.

“Jake,” I sigh into his mouth, swiveling my hips against his as I feel him, semi hard between my legs. His hands twitch under my grip.

“Let me touch you,” he breathes, biting down on my lower lip as he pleads.

“No,” I whisper back, kissing him harder as I fall into a rhythm with my hips. Reaching between us, I pull my panties to the side and position myself directly on top of his hard dick, the only thing separating him from my wet core is the thin fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, eyes squeezing shut.

“No, no,” I reach my free hand up to take his jaw in my grip, the other hand still holding his arm down at his side. “Eyes on me.” His eyes meet mine again as my mouth falls open. A silent gasp escapes me as I slide my wet core against the material of his covered cock. I release his wrist and jaw in favor of placing both hands on his bare chest. “Oh my God, Jake,” I whimper, closing my eyes and tossing my head back. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t putting on a bit of a show. “You’re so hard,” I sigh.

“Can I please fuck you?” he asks breathlessly beneath me, hands knotted obediently in the sheets at his side.

“Hmmm,” I consider, “how could I let you fuck me when you’re keeping all these big secrets?” He glares at me before reaching up and taking me by the waist, knocking me on my back until he’s hovering over me.

“You like secrets,” he reminds me, lips at my ear, sucking on my earlobe before licking a stripe down my neck.

“Do I?” I question, letting myself fully melt into the feeling of his lips and tongue and hands on me while he’s not seeing just how much I’m enjoying it.

“Mhm…or did you want Sam to know what we’re up to in here?” He asks, right hand tugging at my nipple while the other still holds me around my waist, trapped between me and the mattress. I roll my eyes, causing him to pinch my nipple tighter. The sound I let out is somewhere between a moan and a yelp and I clamp my hand over my mouth instantly. Jake giggles, letting his head drop to my chest, kissing at the skin he’d just pinched. “See, secrets are fun. Necessary, even.”

He continues kissing down my body until he reaches my underwear. Looking up at me through his eyelashes, he takes the elastic between his teeth and pulls them down as far as he can before finishing the job with his hands.

When I’m bare and naked before him, he parts my legs wide enough for him to settle between them. “How do you want it tonight?” He asks. This is new territory for us. We don’t… take it slow. We don’t ask questions and, in fact, this is only maybe the second time we’ve ever hooked up in an actual bed. Closet, car, tent, couch, sure. The bed feels… intimate. Where we’re usually rushed and frantic, simply trying to get each other off, we’re now slowing down, touching softly and intentionally.

“Uhm,” I start, not sure how exactly to answer the question. Feeling out of control, I panic, sitting up and taking his face in my hands. My lips crash against his and he’s caught off guard as I press him back against the mattress.

“Not what I was thinking, but I’m not complaining,” Jake smirks, relaxing into the mess of bed sheets, his eyes still tracking my every move.

I make my way down the expanse of his chest to his cock, freeing him from those damned briefs. I don’t waste time pressing my lips to his tip, gently sucking. I watch as his breath causes his abdomen to flutter, up and down. Admiring the way his hip bones jut out on especially deep or sharp inhales. The second his hands are in my hair, I slide him down the back of my throat.

His hips immediately buck upwards as he thrusts himself deeper into my mouth, and I hear him mutter out words of admiration and praise.

“Oh fuck”, “deeper”, “slower”, he doesn’t stop. He’s always been vocal during sex and I can’t get enough of it.

I pull him out of my mouth the second I sense he’s enjoying it a bit too much; moving back up towards him. His hands are still in my hair, but move down the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. His tongue meets my lips first and then slides under mine like velvet as he slowly repositions me until my back is pressed into the mattress; him hovering over me.

“How bad do you wanna know?” He breathes, eyes meeting mine before his head dips to press wet, sucking kisses to the curve of my neck. I feel myself losing the control I had over this situation, but I can’t seem to make myself care. He lowers himself onto his elbows so that his body is flush with mine. I can feel him, hard, pressed against me.

“Bad,” I mutter, reaching down between us in an attempt to slide him inside of me.

“Ah-ah,” he shifts his hips back, away from me. “Sounds like you’re gonna have to earn it tonight.”

“Earn it?” I ask, trying to focus as his head slowly snakes down my body until I feel his lips press warm kisses on the inside of my thighs.

“Sh”, he silences me. His two fingers dive into my core, and he scissors them, stretching me the way he knows I like. He takes a moment to pull his hair back into a loose bun and he smiles when I make a crack about things getting serious. His tongue finally licks a stripe up my center, pressing hard and flat against my clit, his fingers simultaneously pumping in and out of me.It doesn’t take long for me to get there. I’m close. So close, already.

I feel my legs tense and clench around the sides of his face and my breathing hitches frantically. He uses it to his advantage, pulling me closer by the hips and nearly suffocating himself with me. His palms press against my stomach, holding me firmly in place while I ride out my orgasm.

When he pulls away, he crawls over me and lays his chest against mine. His lips press against the shell of my ear and I feel his breath echo as I stare at the ceiling and try to gather myself.

“I fucking love the sounds you make when you finish”, he whispers as he huffs out a laugh. He uses a free hand to brush the hair off of my neck, tucking it behind my ear.

“Hmmm,” I smile a hum against his shoulder, “probably almost as much as I love hearing you whimper for me.

He scoffs, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “I do not whimper.”

“Wanna bet?” I ask, pressing against his shoulders, pushing him back against the bed.

“Be gentle with me,” he teases. Teases, because he and I both know he prefers me to be far from gentle.

Without another word, I line myself up over top of him and tease him at my entrance. His hips buck up against me immediately, and there's that little gasp. That throaty, breathy puff of air that pours out from between his lips, reminding me that at the end of the day, he really is putty in my hands.

“This gentle enough?” I ask, peeking down through my lashes at him. “Can I make you feel good, now?” I grind my hips downward, my wetness sliding against the length of him as my mouth opens, jaw falling slack, mimicking his. I nod my head slowly, grinning when I finally hear the faintest whisper of a whimper. There it is.

“So impatient,” I grin, only half joking, but he proves my point when, seconds later, he grabs my hips and slams himself into me. My back arches immediately as I let out a loud moan and I hear him gently mock me. He thrusts into me, taking back all that power I had over him, reminding me this time, that I’d do absolutely anything to keep him exactly where he is, inside me, for as long as possible.

Feeling unsteady at this pace, he’s set, I reach behind me to grab his calves for support, hoisting myself up. I let my head fall back as I feel his cock stretch me better at this angle.

“Oh my God, Jake,” I whine, “I c– I can’t–”

Before I can blink, I’m falling swiftly to the mattress below me. I squeal as he grabs my legs behind the knees and folds them up against my chest. He takes his cock in his hand and circles it around my clit, my body pulsing every time I feel the soft head of his cock pass over that ever sensitive bundle of nerves.

“So pretty,” he breathes out, “all of this for me?” He asks, more of a statement than a question, dipping himself into the pool of wetness at my entrance, causing my breath to hitch as he stretches me slowly. I look up to see him grinning and staring at my face, eager for praise and compliment. So I give him just that.

“All for you,” I respond, completely breathlessly. “You’re so good, so so good, best fuck I’ve ever had,” I gasp as he finally pushes himself all the way inside of me, right to the hilt.

I can feel his cock throbbing inside of me, even with the quick snap of his hips. My head starts to bang against the headboard and I would laugh if I wasn’t fully and completely on another planet.

Thankfully he notices without me even saying a word and drags me further down the bed with just one arm around me.

“Sorry, baby,” he grunts, “lemme make you feel better,” his thumb reaches down to press circles against my clit, and I swear to God I see stars.

“Gonna cum again, for me?” He asks, once again, knowing the answer to his own question as he knows my body better than I know it myself. “Wait for me.”

He leans down, breathing heavily against my chest as his sweat slicked forehead rubs against the beads of sweat on my neck. It’s messy and it’s hot and it’s fast as he presses wet kisses to my skin. Somehow, he maintains the perfect pace and I feel him begin to twitch as he lets out a moan, muttering sweet praises into my ear. “Yes, baby. Good girl. So good for me.”

He continues to fuck into me for a moment longer until he feels me cumming again, pushing himself deeper into me, harder, exactly how I like it. He waits a few beats as we catch our breath, enjoying the closeness. He pulls out of me and we both collapse on the bed next to each other until the silence in the room is stiff enough to choke me.

“Can I ask you something?” I question, taking his silence as permission. “Why do you let Josh get under your skin so much?” he turns his head toward me, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I was– inside you, thirty seconds ago and you’re asking about my brother?” A loud laugh bubbles out of me at his blunt response, but I continue,

“Sorry, timing is weird, I know, but I was thinking, like…” I swallow, directing my attention to the chipping nail polish on my pointer finger, feeling suddenly small under the weight of his stare. “I feel like every time he brings us up, you get weird.”

Jake’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head like some kind of unofficial response.

“Okay fine maybe it’s not Josh, but the subject?” I push further, daring to meet his eyes again.

“Damn, you aren’t gonna give this up, are ya?” He huffs.

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk about that, then at least give me my fair share of the deal.” I lift up on my elbow to peer down at him. “I’d say I more than earned this secret.” I smile.

He looks up at me and for a moment, I can tell he's looking at more than my face. His eyes drift to the hollow of my collar bones, the hairs falling out of the disaster of a ponytail it was in, the space between my ear and neck that he’d breathed quiet promises into just minutes ago.

“What if the two are connected?” He asks, finally. When I give him a look of confusion, he continues, “the way we used to be and– and the secret?”

“I’m listening,” I feel my heart begin to beat just a touch faster, my cheeks warming ever so slightly. He leans up to mirror my position, his eyes meeting mine at a direct level.

“I guess I was just hoping it wasn’t really a secret at all,” he says, eyes searching mine, practically begging me to understand what he’s not saying. The air is heavy and thick between us. He swallows hard as I begin to realize what he’s alluring to.

“Forget it, I–” he begins, breaking our eye contact, ready to make up some lame excuse about being tired and choosing to talk about it in the morning.

“I love you too, Jake,” I blurt out before I can chicken out.

And I will never– ever forget his face when he looked back up at me in that moment.

Because I was finally able to answer, in one sentence, the question he’d been asking for years and years. “Do you love me, like I love you?” Yes, resoundingly and conclusively, yes.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@doodle417 @gvfrry @spicedandicedtea @yeehawbesties @samkiszkalover @gretavansteph @mannick @theweightofjake @basiccortez @lallisonl @sammiejane22 @sammyslappers @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @keighoe @myownparadise96 @gretavanbitches @s0livagant @aconfusedhippie @jordierama @writingcold @fuzzybatpersonafan @mamalikes-gvf @laurenlovesgretavanfleet @alwaysonthemend @saoirsemaeve

#greta van fleet fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #gvf smut #gvf imagine #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction #gretavanfleet #greta van fleet #greta van smut

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peterparkouryo · 3 months

Text

rebound iv | ✧.*

✧.*

prompt; You had been in a relationship with Peter for months until he broke up with you. It was tough at first, but over time you began to move on and eventually found someone new. However, Peter couldn't handle seeing you with someone else and it was clear he was still harbouring feelings for you.

warnings: one-sided pining, angst (cuz you love it), guilty peter, very bad person peter, arguments, and maybe fluff idk

word count: 8.0k

a/n: ITS HEREEE!!!! tysm for the love on this series and sorry part four took so so so long to publish! THIS IS THE LAST PART DON'T ASK FOR MORE, PLEASE!! i'm so glad to be back, but if i'm honest? this last part is trash and rushed lol.

part one part two part three

"You should consider Ned."

Betty shows a smile, one to only be described as sarcastic before shrugging, digging through more clothes in her closet.

"Yeah, sure, maybe, but I'm more of a committee kinda girl." She offers, pulling out a black plaid skirt, turning to face you.

You accept the skirt from her hold, scanning the fabric curiously before giving her a nod in approval, to which she claps her hands together in excitement to.

"When's prom anyway?" You wonder, putting the black plaid skirt in your bag with the many other donated clothing your friend had gave you.

"Like couple weeks?" The blonde shrugs, closing her closet door before spinning toward you and made her way to the edge of her bed.

Betty had invited you over her house so she could "put you in something" nice for an upcoming date you had with a boy you had been dating for well over a few weeks now.

It was safe to say that asking her for an outfit recommendation wasn't the smartest of ideas, but it's not like you had many other girl friends to ask.

And your blonde friend was definitely the more expert of boys than you were (obviously), despite her having the lesser advance of dating when it came to them.

"What's his name again?" Betty asks, sitting next to you as she sorts through your clothes and folds them neatly.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at her motherly habit.

"Miles." You answer.

"The junior?!" Betty gasp, you can see eyes light up in excitement and can't help but nod and smile widely.

"Yeah." You confirm.

Miles was the better half of you, probably the best version if you were being honest. He wasn't toxic, a sweet boy, and always knew what the right thing to say was at the most inconvenient times. Of course, he was a nerd, or what you'd call a dork (guess you had a type).

It took you a while to come to terms with the fact that the boy had a crush on you, for...well, many reasons, but once the sun came down and reality settled in, you slowly found yourself noticing him more than just a quiet classmate in your physiology class.

Though it took awhile for you to come to terms with those feelings given the fact you had just gotten out of a relationship at the time, but you deserved to be happy, not wanting to dawn too much on your trouble passed.

"He's been asking you out for like, ever." The blonde points out and you laugh as you give her a nod.

"Right, like I felt bad when I kept saying no, and it's only because I was fresh out of a relationship." You explain as Betty nods, reorganizing the closet she messed up on behalf of you.

Miles tried one last time to ask you out on a date, and you finally gave in, though you weren't full healed from your previous relationship, but you figured you weren't the type of person to lead someone on and deserved to be happy with someone who you knew would give what you craved for.

Miles was the perfect example of providing happiness, even if he himself didn't really know that.

When you said yes, you were your nervous self and immediately asked Betty, who was more than thrilled to help.

"And he's so cute." You sigh dreamily.

Betty laughs, closing her closet before turning back around and made her way to you once again.

"You think he's gonna ask you to prom?" She wonders, and you give her a look of confusion.

Honestly, you had little to no thoughts about prom given the fact that who you thought you were originally going to go with wasn't an option anymore. After the past couple of months, you had not given prom a single thought, because by default, there was truly no point in thinking you were going unless your blonde friend forced you against your will to go.

Had you known you'd be dating someone else as the deadline got closer, you'd given it much more thought, but neither you or Miles had voiced your opinion on it, so you automatically assumed he didn't want to go or just didn't have the right courage to ask you.

"I dunno, not something we really talk about." You say with a shrug.

"You should ask him, you're the senior."

You give Betty a look one would describe as if she suggested something completely outrageous.

"No, no that's not a good idea. I think we'll just see how this goes, and if it comes up I'll see how he feels about it." You quickly explain, Betty only shrugs.

"And if he doesn't wanna go I'll take you." She smirks.

"I figured."

You both let out a laugh.

You knew being the ex of a superhero would eventually come back to bite you in the ass.

It wasn't like you could avoid him forever, he was your Queens hero, so yes, you were aware that you did have to hear high praise about him from time to time.

But it being from Miles, the guy you were seeing was weird.

Of course he didn't know of Spider-Man's true identity, but it was eery having to hear your current boyfriend sing praises to your ex boyfriend.

You weren't a mean person either, so you let him.

"And when he beat up those muggers," Miles reenacts most of the accurate actions Spider-Man does. "It was really cool." He smiles from ear to ear at you and all you do is force one back.

"Yeah, well, that's Spider-Man for you." You begin to pick at your food, wanting more than anything to have this conversation come to an end.

Miles being no idiot, notices your lack of interest into the subject of Spider-Man.

"Oh, am I being annoying? I'm sorry." He deflates and you're quick to stop picking at your food to look at him.

"No, no it's not that you're being annoying, I swear. I just...." You trail off.

You were wondering exactly what would happen if you told him you dated Spider-Man. It probably would end up being more questions than jealousy.

And you were in no mood for either.

"I have a friend who works for the Daily Bugle, so you can imagine how much I have to hear about him." You lie and Miles lets out a small chuckle at your sentence.

"Right, I'll make sure to only mention him when completely necessary."

All you really can do is smile at him. Miles was too good to be true, you really had no idea what you could have done to earn such a perfect boy.

Minus the here and there mentions of your ex boyfriend, you'd like to think the date was going well.

You were so nervous as the days went by, getting closer to this well anticipated date and the butterflies never really left when the day became real.

Miles was no surprise a gentleman, bringing your favourite flowers to you and compliments fell from his lips the minute he saw you. He made you feel good.

You two decided on a pasta date only because you expressed how much you loved Italian food and he was more than happy to take you to his favourite Italian spot with its thankfully cheap food.

After the date, he offers to walk you home, and you accept it a bit too eagerly, hoping he wasn't so observant to notice.

You decide to fill the comfortable silence with a question.

"Got any plans for the summer?"

Miles gives you a look as he holds your hand, absentmindedly swinging it back and forth before deciding to answer your question.

"Hm, not really. I just do whatever my parents have in mind." He shrugs.

You nod, giving his hand a small squeeze.

"I mean, we can do stuff?" You suggest awkwardly, your free hand fiddling with the necklace around your neck.

The boy's eyes light up at your suggestion and you can't help but smile at his look of happiness, and he starts nodding before he speaks up.

"I'd love that, totally." He grins and you look ahead of you as you watch your building become more into view.

You both continue your walk, chatting about anything that came in mind and the more you talked, the more you come to realize how much you two have in common.

It was like fate was falling into your hands, and you couldn't be more than happy. It was all too good to be true and you made the mistake of trusting fate in your previous relationship, only to be severely traumatized and heartbroken.

You prayed to any god above Miles was nothing like Peter, if anything, better.

Peter. It had been a long time since you said that name, let alone thought it.

Your train of thoughts are broken when you reach the entrance of your apartment building and you smile at Miles, watching him return it with his gorgeous white teeth.

"I'll see you at school?" Miles slowly drops your hand as you give him a nod.

"Yeah, today was really fun." You tell him honestly and his smile never really goes away.

Before the boy even has a chance to respond, you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

You two never had any sort of intimate moment, even anything as small as this, so you were a blushing mess when you pull away to watch his reaction, noticing his adorable brown eyes dilated and if you pay closer attention, you could almost see the heat rising to his face.

"That good?" He quips and you playfully roll your eyes.

"Bye Miles." You wave as he gives reciprocates it, turning around with a bounce to his step (which you can't help smile at his dorkiness), walking more and more out of view.

You smile to yourself as you make your way to your apartment, and you only wish you knew this'd be your last time at feeling even remotely happy.

You were starting to believe someone was out to get you. Maybe fate wasn't actually falling in your hands and you just had this habit of attracting bad things whenever something good came your way.

This time around, it was not your fault for the bad things happening to you, it was Peter's.

You thought you two had this silent agreement that after you found your closure, you'd never have to talk to each other again, which was going well for the past few months, avoiding each other like the plague or just simply pretending either or did not exist.

For some reason though, the boy couldn't take the hint and it was bringing back old nightmares you didn't want to relive.

Peter had this habit of sticking to you like a bug (no pun intended) and you were worried it had something to do with the still lingering feelings he clearly still had for you, which is something you did not know until you started seeing Miles.

When you said you hadn't thought about Peter in a very long time, you meant it as three days sober without the boy trying to ruin your life. You really had no idea why it was a problem for Peter to be happy for you when you were more than supportive for his now ex relationship with MJ.

Michelle wasn't too keen on telling. you the details of why they broke up after two months of dating, but you had this feeling it had something to do with you, which is so selfish, but Peter being Peter can't help but make the obvious, well, obvious.

Every conversation you have with him ends in an argument, a petty one at most.

So, when he approached your locker, you were prepared for the worst.

"Are you still coming to the decathlon meeting?" Is the first thing he asks you, and it's not like you're expecting an 'hi, how are you?', most of your conversations nowadays are usually straight to the point.

"Why?"

"Because, you never go anymore? Like, what type of question is that..." Peter mumbles the last bit, but you hear it, and you take a deep breath in to not say anything back.

"We'll see, I might hang out with Miles after school." You shrug as you close your locker and you see Peter roll his eyes from the corner of your eye.

"If you're gonna keep ditching, what's the point in being on the team?" Peter questions almost hypocritically.

"You're one to talk." You argue.

"That's different. I have a reason to, you? Not so much." He shrugs and you let out a scoff and turn to walk away, not wanting to be predictable and provoke an oncoming argument.

And as also predicted, Peter follows you like a lost puppy.

"Do you always have to hang out with him after school?" He quizzes, and you stop in your tracks, to give him a questionable look.

"Well yeah, that's what boyfriend and girlfriends do Peter. Once upon a time, we use to do that exact thing." You narrow your eyes at the boy as he looks anywhere but at you.

Again, you're not the smartest person alive, but it was painfully obvious Peter for some reason still harboured feelings for you and you were all sorts of confused as it was him who broke up with you in the first place.

You just wanted him to leave you alone, you've been through so much because of him, but yet, he can't take the hint no matter what you do.

"I know, and I still feel bad about breaking up with you." Peter sighs and you shake your head quickly.

"No, please Peter, stop while you're at it." You warn, watching the boys face visibly deflate at your rejection.

Peter was not stupid (most of the time), so you knew that he knows just how good he was at being a manipulator. His favourite technique was obviously guilt-tripping and being the best at putting the blame on others because he's "been through so much". You learned that the hard way, and now you were glad you could point out the red flags whenever he tried to do exactly that.

"What? I'm not doing anything." He shrugs innocently and you roll your eyes at his faux innocence.

Before you could voice your comeback, the bell rings and you let an all too familiar feeling settle in your stomach.

You decide to keep the silence in between you both, turning around to walk to your class and dare you even try to look back at Peter.

You both knew this was not the end of it, if anything, only the beginning of something worst.

It had been a week since that encountrment with Peter, and of course things have gotten progressively worst for you. All because of him.

Quite frankly, you had no idea why your ex boyfriend was so obsessed with you. Yeah, most exes are and normally it'd be the other way around but when you two were together he never made such an effort as he was trying to make now.

It was painfully annoying and you keep wishing he'd leave you alone, but its almost as clear as day that he will not do that until you rekindle whatever relationship you had to begin with.

Miles is thankfully unaware of Peter's obsession and he has been the best boyfriend (dare you say you've ever had), and unknowingly helping you keep your mind off of things Peter related or not.

"What if we don't go to the movies and just watch one at my place?" Miles suggested, placing a fry in his mouth after he finishes his sentence.

You look up from your shake and tilt your head for a moment to think about his not so subtle suggestion.

"Y'know most movie watchings at home with your significant other leads to a make out session?" You shrug just as Miles eyes widen at your words.

You were kidding of course but you didn't want to tell him that because his reaction was just so adorable.

"Is that a known statistic or...?"

You shrug again and drink your milkshake.

Miles continues to stare at you, digesting your suggestion slowly before nodding his head rather out of habit or he started to consider what you had said.

"I mean, sure why not?" He smiles and you wipe the whipped cream from the corner of your mouth and retort his smile.

It was rare for you and Miles to have any alone time because you both were just so awkward, more awkward than your previous ex boyfriend but you guess it was justifiable considering Miles was a year younger than you and from what you know, barely had knowledge of how girls worked.

You weren't any better, but you at least had some understanding ono how to have a boyfriend and it wasn't anything to be taken seriously because you two were having fun.

On the plus side, you had a plan to ask him to prom (after the whole make out session), and there was this strange feeling that made you have hope because even to a blind person anyone could see how smitten he was with you.

"Are you saying 'sure, why not' to making out with me?"

Miles blinks rapidly before shrugging. "Yeah?"

You nod and play with a fry, the door's bell ringing indicating someone has entered, but you pay no mind to it.

"So are we gonna like...watch the movie first or y'know, make out..first, I mean." Miles clears his throat as you look up, tilting your head.

"Well its not like a thing planned out so, we can just see what happens." You answer unsurely. Honestly, most of half your movie watching with Peter always lead to make outs on some level, but you never really understood how they happen.

But, this thankfully is not about Peter, who broke your heart because he was in love with someone else, Peter who is your Queens superhero, Spider-Man, and Peter, who was walking toward you?

You blink a few times to make sure your head isn't playing tricks on you and once you have time to think, you realize that, yes he is walking toward you, and you have no time to run or hide.

"Do you think we could do that first?" Miles asks with a small smile and you look away from the approaching Peter back to your boyfriend way too quickly for your liking.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You furrow your eyebrows and show what you hope was an apologetic smile and not a nervous one.

"Hey guys." The tortuous voice you had no option but facing greets and you watch Miles and only Miles as he looks away from you to show a friendly smile towards Peter, who you are surely becoming more loathing towards.

"Oh, hey Peter," Miles spares you a glance as you shake your head.

One thing about Peter is that he's the kind of guy to set his mind on a goal and make it his mission to achieve it, so whatever it was that he had planned that involved you, you knew that all your interactions so far was merely just the beginning, and it scared you.

"Didn't know you two would be here." Peter presses his lips together, something he did when he was either nervous or lying, and you had a feeling it was the latter.

You remain silent, which evidently did not help with the awkwardness, but you weren't going to give into Peter's satisfaction and talk to him when you were here to enjoy your date with Miles and not acknowledge the boy who broke your heart.

You could feel your heartbeat speed up, and not in a good way. It was the kind of anxiety someone experience when something unpropitious lingered, like a bad taste in your mouth.

You wanted to get up, take Miles' hand and drag him and yourself out of the diner, but you didn't want to come off as rude and have your poor boyfriend question the sudden departure from the establishment, but deep down you knew that it was either that or suffer through the presence of Peter Parker.

"You wanna join us?" Miles offers, gesturing towards the table with a friendly smile, you only frown at your plate of fries.

"Oh no thanks, I'm already meeting a friend." Peter declines, shrugging his shoulders with a small smile.

Mentally, you thank god for the boy declining Miles offer, because frankly, things are already awkward enough. You can feel the tension growing more uncomfortable with each passing second, and you're wishing the waitress hurried up with the bill.

Your boyfriend mumbles a small 'oh', and nods his head before glancing at you, probably wondering why you're suddenly so quiet.

Theres another deafening silence that dawdles in the air and you press your lips together to withhold the grimace forming on your face, because you can't stand any sort of undetermined traction.

Peter lets out a nervous laugh and clears his throat. "I should go, nice seeing you Miles." He doesn't spare you a glance (not that you care) and leaves you and your boyfriend alone, finally.

You look up as Miles watch Peter walk to a far booth away from the both of you, shortly after he's done staring down the boy he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"Does he hate you or something? A blind person could point out the tension." He says with a small frown of confusion.

You shrug and play with a fry. You could keep the truth to yourself or just give Miles the honest answer, which could just make things even more awkward. There's a small debate in your head for five more seconds before you sigh.

"I mean, we dated for awhile a couple months ago." You mumble, keeping your gaze on your half empty plate.

"You dated him?" Miles gasps as you nod silently.

"That makes sense,"

You give him a look as he shrugs.

"He seems like he still has some feelings for you if the tension was that awkward." Miles explains as the waitress finally comes to the table with your bill.

You grab the receipt as you replay his words in your brain. The signs couldn't be more clearer, even if you evidently tried to ignore the fact that Peter still had feelings, it was almost pointless to remain oblivious if even your new boyfriend could see how your old one felt.

"Yeah, well its in the past." You shrug as you stand up from the booth. Miles does the same and holds out his hand for you to take and you smile and accept his offer.

As the two of you make your way out of the diner, you feel a pair of eyes on you but you don't have the energy to turn and scan every single face just to find the culprit who's staring you down. Plus it certainly doesn't take a rocket scientist to know exactly who that culprit is.

A comfortable tranquility takes over when you and Miles walk hand in hand, the warmth flowing from his touch is a solace to the chaotic life that is yours and your mind is temporarily at peace when you're with him.

Fall was leisurely making its way into winter as you felt the freezing air ruminate your skin, the comfortable yet small sweater doing almost nothing to shield you from the chilly air.

You're thankful Miles' hand in yours keeps you from completely freezing to death. His fingers were more of a heater than the thin layer you dare called a sweater.

"Why'd you two breakup, if you don't mind me asking?" Miles' voice is soft as he asks a question you'd much rather not ask since the wound of that scar has yet to heal, but you're not going to hold the curiosity of your boyfriend against him.

"Um," You search for the best way to explain the words stuck in your brain. "He kind of just, fell for someone else." You grimace at the memories climbing its way to your mind and you spare no glance at Miles.

There's a sensitive silence that looms in the air and you assume its because Miles takes the time to digest your words.

"Oh,"

"Yeah, but I'm over it so don't feel bad." You reassure and you look over to the boy with a small smile and he unsurely smiles back with a nod.

"Hey, so I was thinking..." He starts and looks down at the pavement the two of you were walking on. You raise an eyebrow, gazing at him as you patiently wait for him to continue with whatever it was he was willing to open up to you.

"I know you're a senior, and I'm a junior but I really think you and I should go to prom." Miles blurts and looks at you just as quickly as you look at him, both of your eyes widen.

"Prom?"

You couldn't help but smile at his suggestion, because you were itching to ask him ever since Betty brought the idea to your head. You just didn't know how to go about asking him, and you did plan to make it all romantic like, since it would've counted as a 'promposal'. Miles most likely asked you because the deadline was just two weeks away, and that gave you no time whatsoever to find a prom dress.

"Yeah, if you wanna go with me, I'd really like that. My mom already bought the tickets so..." He trails off and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

Now you couldn't say no, not that you had any thoughts to reject his proposal. Never even haven met Miles' parents, or mother, and she was already so eager to see her son and his new girlfriend she had no face but a name to, to go to prom together. Your smile that never really went away extends into a grin.

"I think you stole the words straight from my mouth." You nod as your boyfriend grins from ear to ear and you two stop walking, awhile ago you notice.

Miles pulls you into a hug and you laugh whole-heartedly at his embrace, hugging him back as the comfort embeds through your body.

"Thank you." He mumbles before pulling away slightly to stare at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, which makes you blush and smile with a soft hum.

"You're welcome."

You flinch when your blonde friend tightens the string of the prom dress and you glare at her through the mirror as she mutters a apology.

"This hugs your body so nice, I'll buy it for you." She promises for the 100th time and you roll your eyes and take a step back to observe the dress in your reflection.

If you were as confident as you desired to be, you'd say that this dress had been the one from all the other ninety-nine others your friend had made you tried on.

The dress was your colour, it fit you nicely the way you wanted it to, and you felt beautiful in it. Since dresses weren't really your thing you opted to wear a suit to which your blonde friend gasps in horror as if the option was completely ludicrous and off the table. She told you it was fruitless to wear such a thing to a ball because Miles most definitely would already be wearing a nice tux and it'd be corny to have you in one as well.

You agreed to let her put you in dresses and such like a barbie and you went to your local dress store where she had only made you try on a gazillion outfits until you found the one you were currently wearing, making you absentmindedly check yourself out in the mirror in front of you.

"You look like a twenty-five year old model that Leonardo DiCaprio would go for!" Betty squeals and claps her hands together. You shake your head at her weirdly sweet but yet more disturbing compliment.

"Thanks?" You furrow your eyebrows and turn to look at her.

Betty twirls you around like a princess, observing your fit from head to toe. Almost like an artist critiquing its art.

"I think you'll have Miles speechless." She grins and you smile hopefully. "Really?" Betty nods.

The mirror made you look almost angel like as you stare back at it. You really did feel gorgeous in the gown and you really wanted it to make yourself feel good, and you knew anytime of dress, or even a garbage bag would look good to your boyfriend because he really is that perfect.

"'M gonna go see if I can find any shoes," You hear Betty's voice and you nod as you look at the corset of the dress, tracing your fingers across the fabric slowly.

You continue to check yourself out in the mirror and a person behind you clears her throat and you turn around swiftly, surprised to see Michelle standing there with a shopping bag and an almost glare had you paid close attention to the glare.

Your hand fiddles with the necklace around your neck and she looks you over and your self-consciousness arises with her gaze.

Michelle had not been the nicest person, to anyone really since she broke up with Peter and the quiet girl went MIA from school and the decathlon team. You felt terrible for the poor girl, because there were the obvious reasons and maybe even reasons you didn't know about as of why her and Peter broke up.

"Your dress is gorgeous on you." She hums and you look at her with an unwavering blank stare. The confusion must had been evident on your face because MJ shakes her head with a sigh.

The tension consumed the vibe of both your presence. You speak up in a calm manner.

"Look, I don't know if you hate me or something but I'm really sorry, you deserve so much better MJ." You look at her with an empathetic gaze.

"Michelle." She corrects.

Your nose scrunches up in a small grimace.

"Right, Michelle. Sorry." You nod in understanding.

"I don't blame you for the break up, but we both know." Michelle gives you a look, the only thing you can do is nod once again. Your head gazes at her converses with a defeated sigh, nothing coming to your mind to say to her because yes, you do know.

The tension fades away when the bubbly girl who is your friend, Betty returns with shoes that match your dress with a happy grin and holds them up to you.

"Cute, right?" She shows you her pearly whites and you give her a thumbs up, watching Michelle walk past the two of you and Betty catches the back of the girl's head and looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

You shake your head quickly, not wanting to talk about it.

After the whole short but definite straining conversation with Michelle you try to take your mind off it, changing into your regular clothes and both you and Betty buy the dress you're satisfied with as well as the shoes and you suggest ice cream for lunch and she agrees without hesitation.

"Divina!" Mrs. Morales exclaims and takes another picture. You try to keep your smile prominent for the maybe millionth picture? You lost count.

When you arrived at the Morales household, Miles' mother was the one to answer and she had gave your mother a look of disbelief, small praising spanish words fell from her lips with a smile. You were already feeling hopeful and just to hear the praising words from your boyfriend's mother who you did officially meet for the first time, was rewarding to say the least.

Miles came down from the stairs, looking quite handsome in his tux and the way his jaw dropped when he saw you standing there with your mother, looking around his apartment aimlessly had been an out of body experience for you, because no one had ever looked at you the way he did, not even Peter.

"Mama, por favor!" He groans from next to you and you laugh as your mother does as well.

Mrs. Morales finally stops taking pictures, placing her camera on the counter nearby.

"Sorry, sorry. You two just look so good together." She smiles and turns to your mother, showing her the pictures she had took.

You turn your attention to Miles, who now takes the time to hold up the container of which had your corsage in it up to you, a silent question and you nod as an answer.

The boy slowly and yet so carefully opens the container, taking out the corsage and slipping it around your wrist, taking ahold of your hand after he finishes, looking from your wrist to your eyes that had already been staring at him.

"You look really pretty, beautiful even." Miles whispers, but before you can say anything there's a flash and the both of you tear your gazes away from each other, to the culprit at hand, Mrs. Morales and your mother both have their phones in their hands with ear to ear grins as they capture the memory of your little moment.

The two of you groan in annoyance at the ruined gravity of peace.

The dance was like anything you could had ever imagined, from the sequence sparkling chandelier lights dangling from the ceiling, illuminating the gym with an almost elegance aura, to the blue and white decorations to represent your school colours made you feel like you were at a ball rather than the prom.

"This can't be the same gym as our school's." Miles hand was in yours as the two of you enter the gymnasium, and you giggle at his words, watching many bodies chatter or dance with each other.

He was right, the gym you were used to always had a weird smell and it unquestionably had no qualities to hold students for a senior prom, yet you were proven other wise.

The two of you make your way further into the dance and you see Betty with Ned, which you find ironic since she had sung a tune in your ear that she would much rather be helping set up the prom and keep it well done than ever consider having Ned take her as a date. You tilt your head at the girl with a knowing look, her only retort is rolling her eyes.

The night was bound to be full of surprises, you suspect.

"You look great guys!" Ned smiles and fist pumps Miles, an adorable thing the two of them did whenever they ran into each other, and you hug Betty as well as Ned.

"Thank you."

Your gaze scan the dance once again, your anxiety rises when you catch a familiar set of brown eyes walking towards your group.

Never in a million years would you had ever thought Peter Parker to attend a dance without a date. It was a out of character thing to observe, but it was true since every year from the ninth grade, stopping at last year, you two attended every single dance together, even making a promise that if you were to break up before prom that neither of you would participate in said dance.

Times had changed of course, given you now had a new boyfriend, attending with him instead of Peter, but the brown haired boy had no date and that is what you truly found weird. But you had no room to judge him, ultimately, it was none of your business, nor did you care why he was even here.

The way he looked at you as he made his way towards you made you nervous for a multitude of possibilities. He had never made the effort to give you such attention before, but there was something in his eyes that gave you an unsettling feeling, a feeling that you were growing accustomed to since he broke up with you all those months ago.

The gut feeling as if something bad foretold in the air.

Once Peter had successfully made it over to the four of you, his gaze never actually left yours and you had to subtly hide behind Miles to inaudibly declare your uncomfortable state, though sadly it went unnoticed as your boyfriend converses with Ned.

"Peter, you look very handsome." Betty voices, causing the two boys to stop their chatter and look over to the boy who broke his gaze away from you (finally), clearing his throat, giving your blonde friend a small tight-lipped smile and greeted Ned with their signature handshake.

Miles gives Peter a nod and he reciprocates it. You look down at your heels, that were a pain to walk in, avoiding eye contact with the brown haired boy.

Thanking the gods from above, Miles takes your hand with a smile and you look up at him with your own, ignoring, shutting out, whatever you want to call it, Peter's gaze that you sensed form into a glare.

"Let's go dance." Betty quickly drags Ned away, being little to no help with the eye-twitching obvious tension between you, Miles and Peter.

Why had Peter made it his mission to give you an anxiety inducing, gut wrenching run for your money every time you two interacted? You wish you knew, you really did.

You fiddle with the necklace and Peter takes notice of it and speaks his mind, and you wish he hadn't.

"I like your necklace." He nods and you stop your fidgeting to glare at him, watching the boy smile innocently. This, of course draws the attention of your boyfriend.

"Oh yeah, cool spider necklace." He smiles.

Peter could careless if you were glaring at him, and you felt your anger boil through your entire body, ready to attack him had he have the audacity to say something sly from his mouth once again.

You both knew that Peter was the one to had given you the very necklace you wore around your neck, almost everyday and the reason you didn't take it off was unclear, but you knew deep down it had nothing to do with Peter, or maybe it did but it was not like you still had the feelings for him you once had before.

It was a shame that the boy took pride in the gloating fact you still wore it, but it wasn't for him. More so, for you.

"Miles, do you wanna dance?" You look over to your boyfriend with a smile and he quickly nods like you had just offered him candy, Peter frowns and you glance at him before walking off to the dance floor.

The two of you make your way to the centre of the gym, most students still danced or talked nearby, but you paid no mind to it as you wrap your arms around Miles' neck, he was unsure where to put his hands and you smile at his awkwardness.

With pleasure, you guide his hand to your waist, he understands with ease. His hands on your waist was a comforting experience for both you and him. As if on time, the music switched from a Taylor Swift song you briefly recognized to a slow song, an Elvis Presley one at that.

You can't help but notice the way he was looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes held adoration in them, and it was the same look he always gave you, but his longing stare was more amplified than per usual, it made your heart speed up and you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

Your neck begin to itch with anxiety, but it was the good kind and you were so happy that you were able to feel easiness that you had been looking for in the past year.

Miles was the person you were meant to be with, and you felt like nothing could get in the way between you both. No matter how hard Peter tried to slither his way back into your life, the better person will always be Miles.

The solace is beautiful, the two of you holding each other as 'Can't help falling in love with you' (ironic), played in the background, other classmates were dancing as well, but they disappeared from your mind. Everyone but your boyfriend blocked out from your brain, the both of you looked at each other with such protection and warmth that you failed to notice which one of you even leaned closer.

The kiss was short, sure but it was confounding and so very soft. You pulled away with a, looking down as Miles laughed at your behaviour.

"That was nice." He nods and you look back at him with raised eyebrows. "Yeah."

"Thirsty?"

You nod as the slow song comes to an end, pulling away from him, but still close enough to feel his residence.

"I'll be quick." Miles promises and gives your cheek a kiss, turning his back to you and walks toward the punch table, that was more of a buffet if anything, given the unnaturally amount of food and desserts decorating the furniture piece.

You gnaw slightly at the bottom of your lip with a smile, and your fingers trace the spider trinket of the necklace around your neck, a voice interrupts your dreamy thoughts from behind you and you turn around.

"Can we talk? I know I say that a lot for the past three chapters of our conversations, but...please." Peter walks closer to you and you take a step back when he does, your hand falls to your side with a frown.

"Not now, or maybe ever." You scoff, attempting to walk away from him but he gently steps in your way.

This was going to take a turn for the worst, that much you could tell.

"Please!" He gives you puppy dog eyes, and looks at you as if this was the last thing he will ever get the chance to do. You groan before giving in.

"Make it quick."

Peter nods and lets go of your arm, trailing his eyes from your necklace down to your dress, the words spill from his mouth before you could even comprehend them.

"I love you." He breathes, and your heart drops to your stomach.

"Stop."

You try to walk away again, because your head was starting to hurt and you didn't have it in you to deal with Peter's bullshit.

"No, listen to me, just listen." Peter quickly shakes his head and steps in your way once more and you notice his heartbroken stare.

"I get that you hate me, I understand that you want nothing to do with me and you're with Miles, but I love you. It took me way too long to realize that, but I--I do." The brown haired boy runs a hand through his hair in frustration, you keep quiet to let him speak his mind.

You were long gone out of love with Peter Parker, the same boy who broke your heart on your birthday, because he was in love with someone else. He for some reason thinks it'd be a good idea to express his feelings at a school dance that you had gone with, with your boyfriend, that was not him.

The deju vu was eating through your body, you were wondering where the hell Miles was with that punch.

"It's too late to even tell you this, but thats why MJ broke up with me, not because I told her but I mean she's a perspective girl so...y'know." Peter shrugs in defeat as you nod slowly, your head still trying to digest his words.

"Peter, you're so stupid." You finally say and he blinks in utter confusion, but you continue anyway.

"You have no right to tell me you love me, months later and I mean months later. Because its unfair and it's selfish, you put me through hell and back, only to do it again once I find a little ounce of happiness." You ramble in anger, not knowing what else to say as you try to put all your thoughts into one simple breakdown for him.

"I know--"

"No, you don't." You cut him off quickly and held up a finger in his face. "Because if you knew like you claimed, you wouldn't had made it your life's mission to seek out attention from me or whatever the hell it is you're trying to do. I was happy for you and MJ, I grew to accept that, so why can't you do the same for me?"

Peter's face switch from confusion and hurt to a glaring look within seconds, and you almost regret your words.

"You told me you loved me while I was trying to meet ends with MJ, and now you're telling me I can't do the same? To the person who's wearing a birthday gift I gave her, around her boyfriend." He argues and sadly, he does have a point.

You were lost for words for a brief moment and Peter scoffs at your silence.

"That's not fair."

"No, if you throw the ball at me, I'm going to throw it back harder. You claim to not love me anymore but you wouldn't still be wearing that necklace if your feelings changed." Peter takes a step closer to you.

You're paralyzed, not having the energy to fight back as his words sink into your brain. He was so painfully right, you knew deep down no matter how hard you deluded yourself that there was still feelings there, and Peter was your first love, so you can't just completely shut him out of your life, no matter what the boy did or how bad he hurt you.

"I know that...but Peter I'm with someone else. Had you told me this before months ago, maybe things would be different, but you need to stop trying." You're sure these words hurt him more than they hurt you, but you were so sick and tired of the one feeling the rougher end of the stick.

Peter needed a taste of his own medicine anyway.

"Please, stop trying."

He nods his head in a silent bob, the tension simmering down from the screaming steam that loomed around the two of you.

Peter looked like a kicked dog, which kind of made you frown, but you knew better than anything to try and comfort him in the way he hoped you would.

"Okay."

"Okay?" You furrow your eyebrows at the one word after a few uncomfortable seconds of silence.

"Okay, I'll stop. I want you to be happy, and I shouldn't be the reason you're not." Peter slides his hand into yours and you feel the unsettling consolation within his touch, biting your bottom lip as you watch him sigh with a deflated smile.

"Just know that I do love you, even if you don't feel the same way anymore, I know deep down you do."

You didn't think you'd cry on prom night, but the tears had made an unannounced approach, you were just thankful that the mascara you had on was waterproof.

Quickly, you wipe your tears and nod your head with a clear of your throat and take a step back.

"I should go look for Miles." You gesture your thumb behind you to nowhere in particular, Peter's hand slip from yours for the very last time. He tilts his head and looks around the gym.

"Alright."

You had no idea of what to do, so you just stare at Peter for a moment as he stares at you.

This boy was truly the love of your life, you did everything together but sometimes not everyone is meant to be.

When he broke your heart on your birthday, you thought you would never find the kind of connection the two of you had again, and it ate at your heart. Peter had ripped it out, and held it in his hand, maliciously squeezing at it but not intending to, because he was as lost as you were, truly.

The two of you didn't know how to love, and that was evident. He thought he loved someone else, but he was wrong. Karma some might say, but you'd call it a life lesson for him. You on the other hand, didn't have any idea what you were doing. Miles wasn't a rebound from Peter, he was a saviour from him. Though not put so nicely, but Peter was an experience to learn from, to grow from and that's what you did.

From the break up, the who kissed who, and the lingering feelings he had for you, you all but hoped Peter would find someone who wasn't you, someone who loved him for him as he could love them for who they were.

You knew it wouldn't be you, and you were glad. Peter deserves happiness as much as you did.

Even if the two of you wouldn't end up hand in hand.

taglist: @clairebearfr @ietss

#peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

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