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#since i know for a fact im probably gonna forget to

rusmii · 4 months

Text

ಇ. BSD MEN IN OMEGAVERSE

#🫧 includes : fem!reader x dazai, chuuya

#🫧 notes : yall may think im weird for this, but hear me out! i got curious and decided to make a/b/otology. more characters later!!💀

#🫧 cws : smut hcs is in its own section so u can skip over it, a/b/o dynamics, ruts/heats, pls don't take this seriously, uh implied weird sex with these men, mentioned: fisting, cunni, fingering, marathon sex, big dicks, cervix touching, rough fucking, bed breaking, FEM TERMS ARE USED!!! (pussy), unknown drug mori gave you and chuuya

#🫧 taglist (free to join!) : @luvan1 @dollchuya

— 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 : general hcs

idk I'm leaning towards alpha

dazai is more like a non stero typical alpha due to his lack of outwardly cocky confidence and average muscle a normal alpha should have

at first glance he seems like a regular beta - hell even with some submissive qualities 💀

but as you get to know him you also notice the shift in his scent

dazai is the type to wear scent blockers bc he just doesn't wanna deal with a flock of whores coming his way whenever he's out

as for when he presented, probably around 15. a little after when mori found him and recruited chuuya

dazai isn't really an aggressive alpha per say, but as an alpha it's rlly in his instincts so if you're observant, you may notice his passive aggressive attitude

him in the pm was ruthless tho. he was murdering dicks with just his presence, but he's a changed man now

dazais rut cycles happen every 4 weeks (every month). average rut time that lasts a week

since he's an alpha most likely he's going to be a little bigger than the average beta. maybe abt 4.7 inches when soft and 7-8 inches when hardened

he doesn't have a preference in the omegas he likes but if he were to choose, probably an omega who reminds him of oda in way

basically someone who won't judge him for who he is cause dazai is a whole mess to deal with😭

— 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 : smut hcs (u can skip this part)

hope u guys didn't forget this is an omegaverse post

anyways dazai goes feral when he dicks you down😭

shoving you on his cock even when he only used one finger:( jk nah he uses his whole fist first

you're stretched so wide opened that you don't even need a plug. your slick already producing more than enough to replace a whole bucket of lube

that's when he bullies his cock up into you. making sure you least expect it— making you beg and moan then shoves it in when your mouth is already wide open

I'm sorry if ur on the smaller side but dazais dick IS gonna be 7-8 inches so if you're like under 5'4 then yeah you might feel that shit up in your cervix

but that's fine since you're born to be bred that way (omega reader)

that aside, dazai isn't as dominant as other alphas. controlling, yes. lazy? definitely

rather have you fuck yourself on his dick then do much work but that's when he's NOT on his rut

if he's on his rut then yeah, ur pussy is getting a restraining order against his dick

bro your pussy would be PULSING for daaysss after his rut😭😭 you wouldn't even wanna open your legs for this man anymore

your heat cycles and his rut cycles probably don't align, meaning more days off work, meaning a happy dazai

dazais version of aftercare is eating his cum out of you then carrying you to use the bathroom to pee then carry you back to bed to sleep

— 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 : general hcs

ALPHA 100%

but gets mistaken for an omega💀

as an alpha, chuuya exerts that usual cocky confidence and muscle a normal alpha would have. in fact he probably has more than the average alpha

the only reason why chuuya gets mistaken as an omega is bc of how short he is. there's no way that an alpha could be so non stero typical but chuuyas existence proves everyone wrong

chuuya doesn't wear scent blockers then complains abt omegas, BETAS even, clinging onto him like he's gonna leave them after edging them for years

submissive betas though, normal and more dominant betas aren't crazy over him like that😭

as for when chuuya presented, he was a late bloomer lmfaooo. buddy presented as an alpha at 18

ngl everyone thought he was gonna be one dominant omega but chuuyas biology rlly said, "lemme show yall where i put the rest of his height"

unlike dazai, chuuya is one hell of a volatile alpha. one second he's calm then he's slamming a random alphas head in the wall bc he was harassing omegas

a volatile alpha for good reasons (unless it's dazai)

chuuyas rut cycles comes every 3 weeks and lasts for about a week and a half. not on the average time but pretty close to it

he'd just have to adjust and manage his timing well

like dazai, he's gonna have a BIG D so I'd say around the same length as him, 8-9 inches when hard and 5 when softened. as for width though? man's a coke can. THICK AS FUCK.

chuuya does have a preference in his omegas. he'd prefer a more submissive but act-like-they're-in-charge type of omega. he's not picky though, and will worship an omega anyways

that will always send them the wrong signals but it's alr since it's chuuya

— 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 : smut hcs (u can skip this)

a dominant man always loves being on top

chuuya be the type to finger you while eating you ouuut😝 literally doesn't stop till his face, neck-down is SOAKED

and chuuyas fingers are BIG like did you guys know his hands are bigger than dazais?!? one finger would probably equal to two of yours

bby makes sure to stretch you wide open cz he knows he big:((

just know that his tip is gonna be slobbering your cervix, so let's hope your omega body is aroused enough to stretch for him

on normal days where normal sex occurs, chuuya doesn't really treat you any differently from his rut days

only difference being that he's softer and gentler, especially on special days

during his ruts however.......... yo bro breaking bed after bed yall might as well just fuck on the floor😭

like it's gotten to the point where you just use a floor bed

ik ur neighbors banging on the doors every 3 weeks

your pussy is literally applying for another alpha cause WHEWW man keeping up with chuuya is a workout on its own

it don't help the fact that his stamina exceeds normal people staminas

your heat cycles and his rut cycles align! when you and chuuya first mated, you both took these unknown concoctions mori gave yall to align your cycles

in chuuyas house, aftercare is important. or at least that's what he says before knocking tf out and you having to drag your ass out of bed to clean yourself + him up

he feels bad abt it the next morning and makes you stay in bed for like the next 3 days

©CHURUAI ;;; don't steal, plagiarize, or repost my works

rbs and comments appreciated <3<3

#[˚₊‧꒰ა🩰] — runi #would have added more characters but im DONE with hcs #pls dont steal this layout! i rlly like it:(#bsd omegaverse #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #chuuya x you #dazai x you #chuuya x y/n #dazai x y/n #chuya x reader

613 notes · View notes

silverzoomies · 8 months

Text

Screwball

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: smut, slow burn, kissing, hand jobs, loss of virginity, temperature play, mutant reader, ice powers, porn with plot, clunky writing

word count: 14,151

a/n: im so late posting this. i meant to finish this one like a month ago. but it's already september !! and a heatwave fic seems so out of season !! oh well !! i hope someone out there enjoys this. i went through hell tryin' to finish it. but i'm pretty happy with the way it panned out,,

apologies for the usual: clunky writing, slow as fuck execution, potentially ooc dialogue, etc etc etc kbgsjbdghsoiheg

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Westchester, New York had never seen such a record breaking heat wave.

And in all his reckless, fast paced years up to the ripe age of thirty, neither had Peter.

His fragmented memory is jam packed. Cluttered with disorganized checklists of every place he’s ever been. Not that he’s bragging or anything. But Peter’s basically seen the entire world, and then some. If one were to count those gnarly, X-Men space missions. He’d gone places no non-mutant could ever conceivably dream of reaching. From the deathly cold peak of Mount Everest, to the blistering sands of the Sahara desert itself.

Even with all that collected experience, Peter’s a hundred percent sure; he’s never faced summertime heat as insanely lethal as this.

Okay, sure. Maybe declaring Westchester as hotter than the Sahara might be a bit of a stretch. But to Peter’s credit, this heat wave is dangerous enough to warrant a citywide advisory. Which, in layman’s terms, means: don’t get ballsy. Unless you wanna end up fryin’ like an egg on the sidewalk.

The weather outside is so grisly, in fact, the X-Men themselves had to call their latest mission quits. Imagine that! Crazy, right? A fierce team of mutant heroes, capable of taking on behemoth sized sentinels. And even they didn’t dare another second in the heat.

Peter detached himself from the concept of religion ages ago. But thank the mysterious powers above, whoever they may be. Because he was legit two seconds away from collapsing to the ground, in a boiled heap of skin and bone.

He stumbles off the X-jet on wobbly legs. And no joke, Peter swears his muscles have somehow melted into jelly. It’s supremely embarrassing, the way he struggles to keep up with the team as they move ahead. They all stop before going upstairs, waiting to reconvene with Xavier. Organized in a careless, half circle; the X-Men look as though they’ve returned from an Olympic marathon. Their bodies exhausted, and blanketed in buckets of sweat.

Naturally, on account of Peter’s super dope, mutant genes; his body functioned at a nonstop rate of super sonic speed. As a repercussion, his average body temperature burned leagues hotter than any non-mutant’s. It wasn’t abnormal for Peter to dread the tormenting heat of the summer season.

In the blazing eye of a dangerous heat wave, swarming the city like an apocalyptic storm; Peter’s absolutely certain – like, for sure, he’s teetering on the brink of death. A miserable, stewing-in-your-own-sweat kinda death. Leave it to Logan to recite the eulogy at Peter’s funeral. No doubt, Wolvie would have nothing but positive things to say about Peter after he died. Most definitely.

Peter might be a teensy bit freaked out actually. Since he had no idea he was even capable of experiencing heat exhaustion. It almost makes him paranoid. Like a hypochondriac with a chest ache. In an attempt to force his recovery, Peter chugs through exactly thirteen bottles of dollar store water in a flash. The source of his stash? A stainless steel, mini fridge in Hank’s lab.

He knows Hank’s gonna be totally peeved when he finds the fridge raided clean. But Peter doesn’t bother worrying about that right now. Instead, he makes a mental reminder: Water bottles. An IOU. One he’ll probably forget about within the next two seconds. And never get around to fulfilling.

Professor Chucksters is talking, but Peter can’t find it in himself to listen to a single word. Whatever momentous info the ol’ baldy drops, flies a thousand miles over his feverish head. Peter cranes his neck back in overheated agony, lazily chugging Hank’s last remaining bottle of crisp, cold water. The smooth bite of that cold down Peter’s throat makes him exhale with relief through his nose.

Halfway through, he stops to shower his head in the rest. Letting chilly droplets rain down over his silver hair. Sharp tingles erupt down his neck and across his shoulders. Peter shudders, humming in delight to himself.

Oh. Shit. Wait…

Peter then comes to the regrettable realization that, in a heatwave so hazardous; water is a necessity to be shared.

No shit, blockhead.

Now, mind you, Peter isn’t known for his forethought. He’s pretty overzealous. Had he taken time to stop and think for a hot sec…yeah. Sure. Maybe he should’ve been more mindful of his suffering teammates. Oopsie daisies.

Much like a careless dog, Peter shakes off the cold drops soaking his hair. Sprinkles of water splash all around him, with Jubilee caught in the line of fire. She jumps in place with an abrupt, but silent exclamation of ‘ew!’ Shooting Peter a look of burning fury. Damp strands of Peter’s hair fan over his eyes. He runs his fingers slowly through them to give his forehead some air.

Maybe Peter’s a little delusional. Because he swears on his life he catches a red tint in Jubilee’s cheeks. She scoffs, like she can’t stand his bullshit. He throws her a wink. A beat later, she smiles and rolls her eyes.

Peter smirks. Lucky for him, his speedster charm has yet to fizzle out.

The team waits patiently for their opportune moment to flee. It’s obvious they’re all pretty antsy. Probably since they’re dying to change into something lighter. Better fitted for Satan’s city wide celebration of hellfire and brimstone. Anything but the jumpsuits, at least. But that’s just a hunch.

In Peter’s own personal opinion? The most ideal scenario would be to strut around naked, in nothing at all. Sounds awesome, right? Freedom from the suffocation of needless threads! However, societal standards and modern customs definitely wouldn’t allow such debauchery. Not to mention, Peter isn’t super keen on the idea of peeping his teammates in their birthday suits.

Except for Raven, maybe. He never gets tired of looking at those scales. All that blue. Nice.

Oh. And…you. Frankly, Peter’s willing to risk it all just to catch a glimpse of you in the buff.

He swallows a thick lump forming in his throat, sneaking a lightning fast glance in your direction. Observing you with a gawking gaze, Peter ignores the way his heartbeat kicks up to roadrunner speed. Faster than fast. Like, cartoonishly fast. It’s ridiculous.

You’re completely impervious to any heatwave debuffs. Lucky lucky. Standing there without a care in the world, you listen attentively to professor Charlie Brown’s ramblings. Since you’re so distracted, Peter lets his speedy eyes shamelessly wander. Trailing down the glittering, icy blue of your jumpsuit. Uniquely personalized to coincide with your wintry gimmick.

Which doesn’t at all explain why it’s so inappropriately skin tight.

Peter feels himself choke on his next breath. But he’s quick to blame it on the weather. Yeah. It’s just the heat that’s stifling him. Nothing else. Get real, dude.

The sparkling material of your suit hugs your figure a little too perfectly. Complementing every irresistible curve. Peter always thought you looked so ludicrously fine in that suit. If not way, way, way too distracting. Sometimes, he found it ultra hard – ignoring any euphemisms – to maintain focus during missions. Usually because your frosty ass came twinkling in his peripheral, throwing off his mojo.

But let’s chalk Peter’s lack of focus up to his chronic ADD instead, ‘kay?

Heck. Maybe it wasn’t the ADD’s fault. At least, not entirely. Like, cut the bullshit for a sec. Peter doesn’t have a lot of sexual experience. He’s never gone any further than a dozen heated sessions of heavy petting. And from time to time, though he hates to admit it; it haunts him. The way he’s so suppressed. Overflowing with pent-up desire.

Thirty years old and still a virgin? Clock’s ticking, Quickie. No wonder he can’t take his hungry eyes off your body.

Speaking of your body.

Damn, is it hot in here? Or is it just you?

It’s most definitely not you.

Your body naturally radiates a refreshing aura of frigidity. It’s no coincidence, the way your teammates linger so closely in your proximity. Peter can’t really blame them for doing so. You’re the human equivalent of an icebox. Even a touch of your finger could turn the entire X-mansion into a winter wonderland. Part of him wonders why you haven’t done so already. Since you’d be sparing everyone the infernal anguish of this awful heat wave.

Maybe you’re just as absentminded as he is.

Anyway, right about now, Peter desperately yearns to be a long lost tub of neapolitan. Stuffed deep inside your metaphorical freezer.

Which…sounds way dirtier than intended.

Fuck. Alright. Moving on.

Tugging at the collar of his jumpsuit, Peter fights to catch his breath. The fierce heat from outside has somehow seeped its way into the X-Men’s base of operations. Almost like an act of god. Or more like a punishment, maybe.

In desperate need of relief, Peter looks to you once more. He finds himself struck with an ingenious, lightbulb moment then.

A blink, and he bolts, appearing directly behind you. A faint gust of wind flutters your hair. But the breeze fails to even make you flinch. Peter isn’t the least bit subtle with his actions, as he presses his burning body a little too closely into your back. And hoooooooooooooo mama! The sweet relief of your icy presence is so worth any consequences, should they arise.

You whip your head around suddenly, giving Peter a weird look and a once over. He can’t really blame you for staring at him like that. Sure, you’re both teammates. Even family, one might argue. You’re both fighting for the same cause. But you haven’t built an inseparable bond with Peter or anything.

Honestly, he’d be totally down if you did. But that’s neither here nor there.

Peter always thought you were pretty damn cool. In more ways than one, if your glacial mutation was included in the mix. If he were more honest with himself, he would’ve acknowledged his dumb, boyish crush on you an entire ice-age ago. Oh well.

He’s still too much of an awkward spaz for his own good sometimes.

You seem…confused. Staring at Peter as if silently asking him a question. If he had to guess, it’s probably something along the lines of – what the hell do you think you’re doing, you handsome scoundrel? Peter exchanges your puzzled look with an uneasy smile. Dramatically, he fans himself with a hand. Hoping you get the hint, he pokes his tongue out to playfully express his suffocating torment.

Thankfully, you pick up what he’s putting down. As you turn back around, you giggle cutely. Peter breathes an alleviating sigh. He’s left to bask in the glory of your wintry aura. So freeing, and so, so cold. He could kiss you as a thanks, if only you’d let him. But you’ve already directed your attention to Xavier’s painfully long lecture.

Wait. Seriously, how long was this talk supposed to last? It feels like a million years at this point and-

Peter checks the Star Trek watch on his wrist. It’s only been…five minutes. Huh.

The gathering of ye olde X-council draws to a close. At long last! Xavier wraps up his spiel of heroic efforts , world peace , and wonderful work everyone. Bla bla bla. Don’t get Peter wrong. He harbors a lot of respect for the guy. Any other day, and he would’ve found those words somewhat awe inspiring. If not the slightest bit misguided.

But today? Professor, dude, now’s not the time to be preaching words of wisdom. Your nerd club’s literally cooking from the inside out. Give it a rest.

The team wastes no time. As soon as Chuck’s given the go-ahead, they’re gone. High-tailing it upstairs as fast as their tired legs can go. Which isn’t all that fast. At least, not by Peter’s standards. But he’s hella impressed with the enthusiasm.

Unlike everyone else, you move at a frustratingly slow pace. Walking behind you feels akin to waiting too long in a DMV line. Something Peter’s never had to do a single day in his life. And he’s not about to start now. It’s monotonous, and borderline infuriating. But his heightened impatience is probably just another consequence of this outrageous heat.

You take your sweet ass time – and holy moly, did you have a sweet ass – as you ascend to the first floor of the X-mansion. Peter follows after you like a lost puppy, not too far behind. On your way to – presumably – your room, you climb another, dreaded flight of stairs. And since when were stairs a hindrance to a speedster like Peter? He’s never once felt winded making a simple ascent like this. Ever.

Peter’s growing more and more restless. His skin feels sticky and uncomfortable under his jumpsuit, but he can’t rush home to grab a change of clothes. He’s unwilling to risk a race through whatever hellscape lies in waiting outside. No matter how little time it takes him. Not while his lungs are cooking to a crisp.

He aches for the touch of your icy hands. Plain and simple. Nothing to it. Nothing sexual. No strings attached.

Unless…you had a preference for strings. Peter would tie them around his wrists and move like a marionette puppet if you asked. Shit, you want a whole show? Bring out the dancing Muppets.

Midway through your ascent, Peter appears in front of you. He stops you suddenly, leaning casually with his hand against the wooden railing. His other hand rests on his hip. Lamely, he forces himself to act as naturally as he can. Which is virtually impossible, considering the circumstances. But even so, Peter throws you his signature grin and nods his head.

Be cool, dude. Be cool. Ease into it. Just try not to think about how you’re literally baking to death here.

His overheated exhaustion is impossible to miss. Even a dense chimp in a blindfold could sense something’s off about him. The quick rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a dead give away. Revealing how labored his breathing really is. Trickles of sweat race in a tense competition down Peter’s temples. Warm heat pools in his cheeks, and his skin appears ghostly pale.

That…might be the reason you gaze at him like you’re worried sick. As if you’ve seen a haunting, silverette ghost. Peter looks like he’ll pass out sometime within the next five minutes. Realistically, he should probably seek medical attention immediately. But he fakes his aloof casualness anyway.

“Heyyyyy, what’s the haps? Where’re you headed in such a rush, Screwball?” Peter asks, somewhat condescending.

“Screwball?” You narrow your eyes, puzzled, “Oh, y’know, my room probably? I might take a nap. Why?” You laugh despite your confusion, crossing your arms. Fixing Peter with a look that only suggests one thing: suspicion.

Fair enough.

He nods, rapidly tapping his fingers on the railing.

“Cool. Coooooool. I can dig it. Nothin’ wrong with that. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna spend a summer afternoon like this lazin’ around in bed, amiright?”

Good. Nice and easy. Peter should probably stop there, and speak no further. But his hazy, addled mind works on autopilot. The words race past his lips faster than he can keep up.

“It’s hot as hell today too. So, you could totally sprawl out butt ass naked and-”

Too late.

“...Yeah?” Based on your expression alone, Peter knows he’s made a total ass of himself. By some miracle, you don’t deck him with an icy fist of freezing fury. Not that you seemed the violent type to begin with.

“Wait, no-” He abruptly pauses to try and make sense of his thoughts. A stifling heat in the air swarms his head, drowning Peter in hot molasses, “Oh. Gah! What the hell am I even saying? Sorry, that was-uh…that was totally weird, right? Uh, lemme start over-uhm-”

Peter clears his throat, masking his mortification with his speedster charm. Super popular with the ladies. Tested on the battlefield of life and approved. A five star rating. No need to question why he still hasn’t managed to get laid, like ever.

“Sooooooooo…anyway. Y’wanna hang out?” He asks, cheesing a dorky grin.

“You never ask me to hang out with you. But today, of all days…that’s when you do? Everything’s closed, Peter. Y’know, because of the heat advisory? I mean, clearly…you look like you know.” You gesture to Peter himself.

A sweaty sheen coats his skin. He really should’ve taken a cold shower in the communal washrooms. At least before confronting you like this. Man, he really screwed this up. If this interaction falls flat, Peter’s just gonna bail. Maybe he’ll try and stuff himself in that mini fridge of Hank’s. He’d be way better off there. Until Beastie finds him, anyway.

“Uh, yeah? Pffft …no duh. I knew that. But, so what? Just ‘cuz there’s some lame stuff happening outside. That doesn’t mean we can’t do somethin’ totally cool inside. Know what I mean?” Simple and subtle.

“Hm…” You think on his offer for a moment. But it feels like he's aged another thirty years by the time you reply, “At least let me change first, okay? You probably should too! I know you gotta be burnin’ up in that jumpsuit, sweetheart!”

A dopey smile plays on Peter’s lips, pressing into his dimples.

So…sweetheart, eh? That’s a new one.

Politely, you push past Peter to make your way up the remaining stairs. Without any forethought or plan of action, he cuts you off again. He slides across the floor into your visual radius, worn sneakers squeaking along polished wood. Wait…why’s he losing his balance?? Peter doesn’t usually lose his balance. Shit.

Ah. he’s lightheaded now. Great.

You’re close enough that Peter can feel the tempting coldness radiating off your body. Oh, man. If only you’d envelop him in your frosty arms completely. You could even lay on top of him like a blanket of snow post avalanche. Anything. Please. Peter is so beyond desperate to beat the heat, he’d let you pelt him with a flurry of snowballs. At least then, he wouldn’t feel a spark away from igniting into flames.

Staring at him with an impatient look, you tilt your head and furrow your brows. Awkwardly, Peter shifts on his feet. Thick humidity overflows his lungs, close to bursting with the force of an atomic bomb. Breathing is near impossible at this point. Peter may as well bite the silver bullet, before he finally kicks the bucket.

Godspeed, or however the saying goes.

“Hi…sorry. Okay-uh…hear me out, please?” He begs. Peter brings his hands together in front of him like he’s praying at the altar, “This is gonna sound weird. Like, next-level weird. Yer probably gonna think I’m a huge creep. And I’m not tryna freak you out ‘er anything. ‘kay? Like, I totally get it if yer not down for this. ‘Cuz, y’know, we’re not really all that close. Plus, you probably have other stuff you’d rather be doin’ than helpin’ out some loser like me, but-” Peter rapidly stammers over his words.

Way to go, ponyboy. Graceful as ever.

Holding out a small hand to politely silence Peter, you utter his name in the sweetest tone he’s ever heard. Hushed, soft, and so gentle. Your voice is the equivalent of candy to his eardrums. He kinda really digs the way you sound when you talk. So courteous and nice all the time.

Be still, his palpitating heart. Seriously. Calm down. Or he’s literally gonna die.

“Peter?”

“Uhyeahwhat?” He stammers again.

“Are you…okay? You’re sweating like crazy. You look like you’re gonna pass out, dude.”

Peter throws you an ‘ok’ sign with a hand, his grin sluggish.

“Peachy keen, baby.”

He swears with every fiber of his sweltering soul that calling you ‘baby’ made you blush. But, y’know, since he’s a little bit doubtful, he might have to test that theory again. Just to be a hundred percent sure. Break out the ol’ chalkboard and sketch some x’s and o’s like a scientific diagram. Top of the line research. He’s the leading psychoanalyst in speedster charisma.

“You sure about that?” You ask, arching a brow, holding an easygoing smile.

Taking a few steps closer, you bless Peter with your emanating chill. He doesn’t at all expect you to raise your hand. Peter swallows a thick, blistering lump in his throat. Frozen in place, he watches in slow motion as you bring the tips of your frosty fingers to his chest. Brisk, winter cold spreads in fractals of frost over his jumpsuit.

Freezing heaven on scorching earth. It’s sorta…poetic, in a way. Peter blinks rapidly, caught in a mind-altering daze for a beat or two. Your touch really is like a miracle cure, alleviating that stifling thickness suffocating his lungs.

“W-Wow. Okay.” He chokes awkwardly, cheeks flushing. His skin tingles under his jumpsuit, “Wow. That’s cool. Literally cool.”

“Peter?”

“Mmmmmmhmmm?” He hums, slouching his shoulders. Peter shamelessly relaxes under your wintry touch.

“You’re suffering in this heat, aren’t you? You need me to help you out?”

Stupidly, like a colossal, doofus dumbass, he shakes his head. You’re offering the exact thing Peter came to you for. A golden opportunity. He’s really hit the jackpot now. All he has to do is face the music, and admit it. Just be honest. Say it, doofus!

“Huh? Naaahhhh! Pffft …why would-...hey, I told ya! I’m juuuust peachy, Screwball! Don’t gotta worry about me!”

Hanging in the air by a delicate string, is a tension Peter’s too stunned to identify. Taking another step closer, the swell of your breasts meets his chest. The hand you’ve placed over his speedy heart trails tantalizingly slow, up to Peter’s flushed cheek. His dark eyes flutter closed, and he almost falls face first into your touch.

“I can take care of you, y'know? I really don’t mind, honey. It wouldn’t be an issue.” Your soft voice exudes genuine compassion. The sweet, gentle attention burns his skin to a boiling point, his veins melting underneath.

That unidentifiable tension in the air permeates, thicker than summertime heat. Despite the relieving cold you’ve given him to bask in; Peter finds it even more difficult to breathe. It confuses him, the way you act so nice and considerate. And now? He’s melting entirely.

Literally. No dramatizations. Peter can feel his damp skin drooping slowly off his bones.

He’s already close enough to death as is. What’s with the tenderness and affection, huh? Were you going out of your way to make sure he dies faster? Have some humanity, for Geddy’s sake. Jeez.

“I-uh…I…” Peter stutters, at a loss for words, “I wouldn’t wanna put you out like that, but…uh…”

“Alright. Whatever you say.” You steadily pull your hand from Peter’s face, “Offer’s still on the table, though!”

Wait. Wait. Wait. Why are you pulling away? No, no, no! You can’t pull away! Not yet! Come on!

All at once, the soothing cold you’ve gifted Peter disappears. No thanks to the steaming fever brought upon by his overheated, speedster body. He nearly whines at the loss, pulling his lip between his teeth to stifle any embarrassing noises.

It takes Peter only a millisecond to give in. With a slower reaction time than usual – not really all that slow, from an outside perspective – he darts his hand out in a flash. Peter lightly grabs your wrist, stopping you from retracting your hand any further.

“Wait-” Peter groans, acting hasty. Frustrated with his own awkwardness, he rolls his eyes, “...I’m…I’m literally dyin’ here, okay? Like, no joke. I think my heart might actually explode. And I…kinda can’t breathe right now? So, uhm…can you just, like, touch me? Just a little bit? But not-” He panics suddenly, eyes widening, “N-Not like-...not in a weird way, I swear!”

He almost tacks on a suggestive ‘unless you really want to,’ but decides against it. Better not, lest he dig himself into a deeper hole. So far under the Earth’s surface, he’ll come out the other side. Not a bad idea, actually. Maybe it’s cooler over there.

“And I’ll totally make it up to you. I promise. Pinky swear. Cross my heart, hope I don’t die of heat stroke.” He insists.

You giggle again, cute as can be. It’s not the least bit condescending either, thankfully. Peter feels the weight of a billion megatons finally lift off his shoulders. With a nod, you take his hand in yours. A surprisingly intimate gesture, since the two of you have never done anything quite like this before. Hell, you’ve never spent time with each other one-on-one outside of the X-Men.

“C’mon, you silly goose.” You lightheartedly joke.

Your affection catches Peter off guard. Not that he’s got a problem with it. No siree. In fact, his heart might’ve skipped a few beats. A lazy smile plays at his lips, as you guide Peter down the hall to your room in your usual, slow stride.

Oh, sweet, frosty sanctuary calls.

As soon as Peter steps inside, you quickly close the door behind you. Feeling somewhat out of place in the unfamiliarity of your space, Peter distracts himself with the posters on your walls. He casts quick glances over the silly knick-knacks occupying your desk and dressers. Turns out, your room has a lot of personality. Neat.

He overhears a faint click suddenly. Whipping around to find you locking the door, Peter narrows his eyes in thought.

Huh.

Maybe he’s overthinking. Probably. But doesn’t locking the door like that suggest some…implications? Then again, Peter could be looking at this in all the wrong ways. Like, okay, if he were being realistic? More than likely, you didn’t wanna risk someone walking in. Not while you got handsy with one of your teammates in your room. Totally reasonable, he thinks.

But then-

Leaning your back against the door, you steadily unzip your glittering suit. Pulling the tiny, snowflake zipper down just enough to expose the swell of – Oh, hellllloooooooooo snowy cleavage. Where in the world have you been all his life? Peter has to refrain from whistling.

Okay. You totally did that on purpose, didn’t you? That was completely intentional. And Peter’s definitely not reading too far into things. He’s most unequivocally not letting his attraction to you affect his perception of a simple gesture. Not at all.

He can’t control his lingering gaze. Peter’s droopy eyes follow the slow movement of your hand, his mouth falling agape in a heat-exhausted stupor. Somewhere around him, he can barely make out your voice. But it’s muffled. All noise. Akin to a teacher from a Peanuts cartoon. Bwah Bwah Bwah Bwah.

Peter blinks.

“Huh? Sorry…you say somethin’?” It’s a failed attempt at a recovery. Peter taps his temple, “Gotta couple screws loose in here right now. Y’know, heat’s kinda gettin’ to me.”

You arch a brow, gazing at Peter like you see right through his bullshit. And yeah, he’s gonna go ahead and bet you probably do.

“Uh huh?” You scoff, giggling, “I asked if you’d be more comfortable on the bed, doofus.”

Moving closer to your bed, you bend over to adjust the fuckload of plushies resting on the blankets. Wow. Check that out. It’s like a Toys R Us threw up. A colorful mess of too many plushies for Peter to count. There’s barely any space to lie down, even if he wanted to.

Doing a quick double take, he glances between you, and your occupied bed. Peter sways where he stands, light headed from heat exhaustion. His brows shoot up in unexpected surprise. He whistles through a suggestive grin.

“Waiiiit, seriously?” Peter huffs a charming laugh, “Wow. Didn’t peg you for the direct type, Screwball. Y’wanna take me out to dinner and a movie first?”

“Dinner and a movie? I dunno, Peter. You’re askin’ for a lot.” You giggle again, acting nonchalant. You make your way around the room to a record player on a corner shelf. Neatly organized vinyls are aligned meticulously next to it. As you poke through your collection, you continue, “But sure. Fuck it, right? Why not! What movie?”

Distracted, as he usually is, Peter glances curiously around your room. Framed photos, postcards, and letters adorn your walls. Pinned carefully in place. Some of the photos, he suspects, are of your family. Others, more than likely friends. There’s even a few group photos of the X-Men together, bringing a fond smile to his face.

Bwah bwah bwah bwah?

Wait. Shit. You’re talking again. And Peter totally missed whatever you said.

“Huh?” Peter darts his head in your direction, watching with half lidded eyes as you set up the record player.

“Dude.” You roll your eyes affectionately, chuckling, “I said, is it hot in here, by the way? Just wondering. Since I can’t really tell.”

“Oh-” Peter exaggerates a sigh, “It’s really bad, babe. Like, sooo bad. I’m definitely gonna die if you don’t come over here and put those icebox hands on me, like, right now. Seriously.” He snickers, falling limply backwards into your bed.

Several plushies bounce with the impact of his weight. Some tumble onto the floor. Others topple onto Peter himself, but he leaves them be. He clutches a Beatles Blue Meanie plush to his chest. Breathing in quick, muggy breaths. Peter finds he’s even more consumed by the record-breaking heat. It’s a miracle he hasn’t disintegrated into a pile of ash by now.

“Howard the Duck.” Peter adds, staring at the ceiling in cloudy thought. He twirls the Blue Meanie in his hands.

“Pffft…what?” You laugh, “What are you even-”

“That’s the movie I wanna see. When you take me out? I wanna watch Howard the Duck. Oh! And I want popcorn too. Can’t watch a movie without popcorn. But it’s gotta be one of the big ones. With extra butter. And some candy-”

“ When I take you out. C’mon, really? Dude, didn’t critics totally pan that movie? I swear, I saw that in the paper just recently! It’s such an awful movie, Peter!”

“Uh, yeah? And so what? That’s kinda what makes it the ultimate date move, babe. Check it out – we could have the most awesome time makin’ fun of it.” Peter throws his head back further into your bed, peering at you from upside down, “Ooooh! Did you hear about the duck boobs scene? No joke. I kid you not. It’s got duck titties.”

A mellow tune slowly encompasses the quiet, muggy space of your room. Peter instantly recognizes it from the first few beats alone. Obscured by Clouds. Pink Floyd. …Cool. Peter’s pretty fond of that album himself. It’s not necessarily his favorite, per se. But it’s awesome enough. And it’s perfectly fitting for the mood of sweltering, summertime vibes too, he thinks.

“I didn’t until now.” You sarcastically scoff. Meandering towards Peter on your bed, “Spoilers, dude.”

He brings his head up to look at you. Spreading himself out, Peter knocks more of your poor plushies to the floor. Carelessly, he drops the Blue Meanie plush. Letting him fall to his ultimate demise. Au revoir, his blueness.

“Right. My bad.” He snickers. After a beat, Peter adds, “I love this album, by the way. It’s a nice vibe.”

In your eyes, he must look a lot like a beached starfish. Sprawled out and helpless. Drying to death in the heat of the summertime sun. Peter has his long legs hanging loosely off the edge of your bed. Moving in between those spread legs, you carefully climb onto the bed. Your knee stops just short of his crotch. As you inch yourself further over his body, Peter’s eyes widen. He blinks slowly, feeling hot beads of sweat roll down his temples.

“I know you do.” You grin down at him with a warm gaze. Peter’s lungs threaten to shrink into nothingness.

“Y-You do? Huh…no shit?” He appears put off, raising a silver brow, “How’d you know?”

You shrug, keeping your grin, “Guess I pay more attention to you than you think, hmm?” Perched over Peter with a palm to the sheets, you brush the silver bangs out of his eyes, “You got any limits?”

Peter blinks again, dumbfounded.

“Lim-...uh, what now?”

“Limits, y’know. Like, where am I free to touch? Anything you’re not comfortable with?”

“Oh. Uh…you can…touch me anywhere? It’s whatever yer comfortable with. Yer the one doin’ me a favor here.” he gazes at you with an unsure, sleepy eyed look. Nervously nibbling his lip, tasting the salt of his sweat, “Do you-uh…do you do this kinda thing a lot? Fer…other people?”

“Nope.” You blink down at him with that genuine, sweet smile again. Shrugging, “Just you.”

A subtle aura of addictive cold radiates from your body like a light. Peter can feel the faintest hint of it as you move in close. It teases him, promising sweet relief from the merciless summer heat. With his lips parted, Peter stares longingly into your eyes. His smile reveals a glimpse of his front teeth, as he snickers in disbelief.

“Uh huh. Alright. See, now I know fer sure yer just messin’ with me.” He bashfully laughs.

“Not yet I’m not.” You throw him a coy wink. Innocently, you ask, “Where do you want me?”

Which could so easily be misconstrued. Dammit.

Yeah. So, this one’s definitely on him. Peter’s inexperienced, sexually charged instincts immediately jump somewhere totally depraved. He’s a little ashamed of that fact. But hey, who’s the one climbing over him on their bed? Who’s the one fluttering those pretty lashes? Giving him those flirtatious smiles. Come on. Really? No wonder he’s lost his mind in the gutter.

Where do you want me?

Peter’s dark eyes immediately dart to his crotch for less than a second. But it happens so fast, he doesn’t doubt you missed it.

“Uhhhhh…I dunno. I didn’t…I didn’t really think about it? But, you cou- HHHHHHhnnnnnnnaaaaaaa-”

Frigid cold invades the exposed skin of Peter’s neck, as you press your hand gently there. A tiny thumb brushes his adam’s apple. Shivering, Peter bunches his shoulders. Tingling chills surge across his body.

“That’s good. That’s g-great. Awesome. Totally awesome. Thanks. Thank you.” He chokes in a rush, instantly melting into your icy touch.

Relaxing his body in your bed, Peter’s head falls loosely back. He breathes a long sigh of relief, his mouth falling open in a dopey smile. His eyes flutter closed as he laughs. Steadily then, your hand travels lower. Grazing frosty fingertips over his chest. Your fingers soon find the zipper of his jumpsuit, and you tug it down a little further.

That heavy tension from earlier grows a thousand times more distracting. For whatever reason, the mellow melody of Pink Floyd’s ‘When You’re In’ only seems to heighten said tension. Almost like it’s setting a certain kinda…steamy mood.

Did Peter wake up in some cheesy, VHS porno? He’s definitely living the plot of one.

Peter flutters his eyes open, met with the sight of you on your knees over him. Your gaze appearing heavy, focused intently on your task. You nibble your lip in thought, looking fine as hell while doing so. Pressing your small palm to his chest, you finally grace him with glorious cold again. Right over the sweaty abomination for a shirt he wore under his jumpsuit. He’s almost embarrassed that you’re even touching it.

Using your glacial gift, you manifest more coolness. Allowing it to spread all over Peter’s body. He sucks in a harsh breath, freeing his lungs from their heated asphyxiation.

There it is. Sweet, icy sanctuary, at long last.

“Ohhhhhhhh …” Peter groans, “Nice.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat, his veins straining under his skin. Digging your nails firmly into his chest, you manifest snowy trails of glittering frost. The biting cold nips at his skin over the fabric of his shirt. Like walking chest first into an arctic glacier.

“Is this helping you much at all?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

“You have nooooooooo idea, babe.” Peter breathes a grateful sigh, “This is, like, so amazing. Thanks. I owe ya one.”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it.”

Your freezing hand meets Peter’s sweaty forehead, pressing into his skin. Like you’re checking his temperature with the gentleness of a mother’s touch. Humming to the music, you card your cold fingers through his damp locks. Firmly massaging Peter’s scalp.

Peter lets his eyes drift shut again. His mouth falling open out of his control. Leaving his hair, you bring your attention back to his body. Watching him carefully for any sign to stop, you tug the wet, frost nipped fabric of his shirt. Bunching it up over his neck, exposing his broad chest.

He shoots an eye open, fixing you with a curious look. Feeling hot skin under your soft palms, you slide your hands over his raised pecs. Your fingers gliding in a touch as delicate as powdered snow. It sends sharp chills down his spine. A sensation he’s quickly finding extremely addictive and all too pleasant.

Instantaneously, something clicks in Peter’s brain.

A beat, and your touch goes from relieving, to downright pleasurable. Even sort of…arousing. Peter immediately reacts, arching his back in an abrupt jolt. He laughs his surprise through a broken moan, tossing his head back for the umpteenth time.

“O-Oh, fuck.” He chokes, loud enough to disturb whoever occupies the room next door.

Peter’s so righteously fucked now. Because he really shouldn’t be as turned on by this as he is. It’s just…he’s so boiling hot. Miserable as hell. And not only are you finally breaking him free of hellfire’s tyranny. But you’re also touching him sorta intimately. Peter’s really not immune to attention like this. Especially not from a stone fox he’s super attracted to.

His nipples harden under your frigid spell, perky against the tips of your fingers. Peter hisses, whimpering another moan without meaning to. Your only response is to giggle. Curiously, you tilt your head. Quickly taking notice of the way Peter’s noises have changed in pitch.

They’re more like moans of ecstasy now. Because, well, they sorta are. Whoops.

Lowering your hips, you suddenly move to rest on Peter’s lap. Just to give your knees some much needed rest. His hammering heart threatens to burst straight through his ribcage. Rising from the bed onto his elbows, Peter tries to protest.

“Wait! Wait, don’t sit- hoooohhhh.” A throaty groan slips off his tongue.

The full weight of your lower half drops onto his lap. Right over the stiff hard-on in his jumpsuit, doing little to hide itself. Your ass is so outrageously cold against his crotch and… oh, fuck. That’s so perfect. Peter groans again through a shuddering breath. Limply, he lowers himself onto his back. Hoping to conceal his shame, he brings his hands to his face.

Except, there’s no denying his obvious desire anymore.

“Auuuuugh.” Peter curses himself, “Shit. I am seriously so, so sorry-” Your name plays on his tongue in a desperate, apologetic tone, “I-I really…I dunno why I’m so-uh…I’m not usually-”

“Hey, don’t worry! It’s okay. Believe me, I don’t mind…”

Gosh. There you go again, doing that thing. The thing where you act so unexpectedly understanding in the face of an awkward situation. But even then, Peter can hear your smooth voice waver. Despite all you try to hide, he can tell. You’re just as nervous as he is, but ultimately better at masking it.

He doesn’t see it, but you gaze down at him rather suggestively. A fresh, newfound sense of lust lingers in your eyes. Raking your nails teasingly down his chest, you draw numbing streaks of snow, making him wince. The frost manifests seamlessly from your fingers, tickling Peter’s ever burning skin. It melts instantly, leaving beaded droplets.

“Does it really feel good when I touch you like this, pretty boy?” You tease, that waver in your voice barely leaking through again.

Wooooah. Okay. Okay. Hold up. Rewind. What?

Peter isn’t hearing you wrong this time. He couldn’t be. It’s impossible to misread the dirty tease in your tone. In the blink of an eye – rapid fire speed – the blood pooling in his cheeks vacates straight to his dick. Peter’s cock twitches, pulsating under his jumpsuit – under you – and shamefully unveiling just how horny he really is.

The high-speed boom boom boom of Peter’s heart skids to a deafening halt. His exhausted lungs finally collapse. Squeezing out his final remnants of life. If someone were to hook him up to an EKG, he surely would’ve flat-lined. Sayonara, suckers. This foolhardy speedster’s at the end of his road.

But…what’s this?! Peter’s still alive and breathing? Who could’ve predicted such a phenomenon??

He lowers his hands from his flushed face, peering over the tips of his fingers. His black coffee eyes blown exceptionally wide.

“Woah. Hold on now. What?” Peter snorts. He shakes himself free of total shock, frantically nodding, “Uh, yeah? It feels…really fuckin’ awesome, to tell you the truth.”

“Mhm?” You hum a sensual vibration, biting your lip, “Mind if I try something bold then?”

Peter arches a curious brow. You’re kind of a little minx, aren’t you?

“Literally? You can do whatever you want with me, babe. I’m all yours.” He heaves an exasperated laugh.

A smirk dawns your pretty lips, and you shimmy backwards over Peter’s lap. Until the bulging swell of his hardness lies before you, squirming under his jumpsuit. Teasing him, you drag your biting touch down to his crotch. Euphoric cold dances across his pelvis. You stop short of his hard-on, and Peter draws in a ragged breath.

“Awww…feelin’ a little stiff, sweetheart?” You coo in a sultry sound. Peter feels his blood pressure drop to a life-threatening degree, “Let me help you out.”

Testing the metaphorical, frozen waters; you bring your frigid palm over his bulge. You watch Peter for any sign to retract your hand, fixing him with an intense look. But to your surprise, his cock doesn’t soften under your frosty touch. Not like one would expect. Oh, no. The opposite happens, in fact.

“Mmmmhh…oh my god.” He moans, his front teeth clamping hard into his lip. Jolting in response to his own sensitivity, he rolls his hips into your small hand, “Please…”

You squeeze the thick length of him as well as you can over his jumpsuit, applying more pressure. Awkwardly stroking his dick with your wintry tipped fingers. The bleak touch you cast sends chills racing through Peter’s veins, and sharp pleasure rises in his groin.

“F-Fer the record, by the way, this is not how I expected this to go.” Peter shivers, breathlessly chuckling.

“Oh, no?” You mutter, climbing over Peter on your knees. Glacial breath ghosts his lips. You lean in close, giving his cock another firm squeeze, “Hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Fuuuuuuck no, baby. Not a chance.” Peter groans his reply, lifting his hips. Yearning for more of your gratifying chill. Another wintry wave of cold seizes through his groin, and Peter’s eyes roll back, “Holy shit. That’s it.”

Peter finds himself a little conflicted. His brown hues can’t decide if they wanna gaze into your own, or stare longingly at your lips. In the past, Peter thought about those same lips more often than he’d admit. But to be so up close and personal with them like this…

“I’m not even gonna lie to you, Screwball. I really wanna kiss you right now.” Peter admits defeat. Even in your polar proximity, humiliation burns his cheeks with the force of hellfire.

Knitting your brows, you narrow your eyes. And for a painfully long instant, Peter thinks he’s finally fucked up. As if confessing his desire to kiss you was somehow a step too far over the line.

Is there even a line left between the two of you anymore? Or did you both trip over it the moment you gave him ‘fuck me’ eyes?

You lean in a touch closer, quietly chuckling. Cold puffs of air fan over his lips, a needle-thin space away.

“You’re so silly, y’know that? Why do you keep callin’ me Screwball?” You ask, placing a tantalizing kiss to the corner of his lips. Like the touch of a delicate snowflake, “You make it sound like you think I’m crazy.”

“Well, okay, first of all, you gotta be some kinda crazy. ‘Specially if yer screwin’ around with me.” Peter jokes. He’s beyond winded under the teasing brush of your soft lips, “S-Second of all, it’s an ice cream thing. You ever-uhm…stop by an ice cream truck before?”

Why’s he even doing this? Making casual conversation like it’s a date at the diner. Peter half expects you to pull away. Since this is the least sexiest thing he could be doing. Amazingly, you remain where you are. Trailing kisses across Peter’s cheek, down to his ear. Leaving feather-light sparkles of frost in your wake. Still, they melt within seconds.

“Yeah. Of course I have. So?” You mumble.

He tenses as goosebumps descend down his neck. The tight grip you have on his dick doesn’t let up. Any words Peter planned on saying seem completely lost on him now.

“Uhhhh…Screwball’s the little…it’s got the-uh…gumballs at the bottom. It’s, like, a cone-”

Righteous work, casanova.

“Right. And I’m Screwball because…?”

Damn you, little minx! You know why. The answer’s totally obvious. There’s no way you’re that dense. Nah. You’re just so set on teasing Peter, tempting him to nervously ramble. Like you find his embarrassment…humorous or whatever. Pfffbbtt …

“You messin’ with me? It’s ‘cuz it’s ice cream, yeah? No duh. And ice is, like, yer thing, babe. I dunno. It made more sense in my head.” Peter laughs in spite of himself, “Listen…can I please kiss you? Before I make even more of an ass outta myself?”

In this position, Peter can’t kiss you. Even though it’s all he can think about. You’re too busy mouthing at his neck, grazing his skin with your teeth. Fondling his cock in freezing strokes, making him whine under his breath.

Up until this very moment, Peter’s hands remained mostly still. He’d dig his fingernails into your blankets, as the pleasure of freezer burn simmered in his pelvis. But he held himself back from ever really touching you. Since this little interaction wasn’t supposed to end up like this to begin with.

But now? Well…shit.

You knead at his junk like you’re making biscuits, flicking your icy tongue across the skin of his neck. Eliciting another husky whine from deep in his throat. Peter’s pretty sure, judging by your forwardness; you wouldn’t mind so much if he touched you just a little, right? Like, you totally wouldn’t protest if he brought his large hand to the back of your head, would you?

He threads his fingers through your soft hair, tugging your head back gently. Pulling you from his neck, just so he can meet your wanton eyes again. There’s a single second of hesitation, as both of Peter’s hands claim your cheeks. That second seems to stretch for what feels like an hour, while Peter memorizes the features of your face. His racing, speedster heart leaps at the sight.

He swiftly pulls you down for a kiss. It’s clumsy as all get out. Initially, anyway. But if there’s one thing he can actually pride himself on? At the very least, he’s had a lot of experience with canoodling. Kissing you comes as naturally to Peter as running does. His skillful lips and tongue guide yours effortlessly. Coercing you into a heated makeout session. Against his own, your lips are frosty cold. Like drinking crisp water straight from a chilled glass.

Or…it’s more like he’s lapping his tongue across some kind of…slushy ice cream. Like…a Screwball cone, maybe?

No?

Fuck it. Whatever. The only difference is, you don’t taste anything like cherry. You taste like you. And Peter would argue that’s almost better. Almost. Cherry’s pretty hard to beat. It’s a tough competition.

As you fall victim to his bitchin’ makeout skills, Peter indulges himself. He touches you the way he’s dreamed since forever and a day. His hands glide thick fingers down your chilly body. Feeling every glittering facet of your suit under his fingertips. Meeting the curves of your hips, he squeezes them firmly.

“Mmmmm…this is awesome.” Peter breathes, “This is really fuckin’ awesome.” He hums into your lips, stifling a moan by kissing you again. You stroke his clothed cock a little faster, and he chokes, “O-Oh…yer so awesome. Fuck.”

“You’re really awesome yourself. But I’ve always thought that about you.” You titter, nuzzling his nose so tenderly, “The others on the team? Yeah. They’re alright. But you? Peter, you’re the coolest.” You admit with a bashful smile. After locking him in one more, passionate smooch, you pull away, “Sexy too.”

“W-Wait, really? Are you bein’ serious right now?” Peter asks, stupefied. He furrows his brows. Another beat, and he forces himself to smirk proudly, “I-I mean…well, yeah. Pssshh …of course. Why wouldn’t you think that? I’m the bomb, baby.”

Peter keeps his hands on your hips, feeling your ravishing curves. Stroking them with his thumbs. They fit so perfectly in his grasp. And Goddamn, Peter doesn’t ever wanna let go. Mark his words. Right here, right now. He’ll glue his hands to you forever if he has to.

Lowering your ass over his crotch, you keep your erotic gaze focused on his. Your intense eye contact never seems to break for even a moment. Pressing into the exposed, damp skin of his chest, you brace your freezing hands over Peter’s pecs. A filthy moan teases your lips, as you roll your gorgeous hips forward and back. Grinding into his needy bulge.

Oh.

This is happening now. Fuck yeah.

Peter squirms in place, tightening his hold on your hips. His nails tear at the tiny sequins of your jumpsuit, digging into the sparkling material. It’s such a needlessly skin tight thing, for fuck’s sake. Criminally skin tight, even. How did Xavier ever greenlight that? Peter can see the tempting outline of your pussy in it, deliciously rolling into his clothed cock. His mouth waters at the sight. Lifting his hips off the bed, he meets your slow thrusts.

“Ohhhhh. Oh, what the fuck-” He moans an octave louder.

A strangled sound catches in his throat, and you’re quick to shush him the moment it frees itself.

“Pietro, honey, you gotta be quiet, okay?”

Hushed moans pour from your parted lips as you speak his given name. Peter’s completely bushwhacked at the mention of it. Since no one ever – excluding his mom, in her more frustrated moods – uses that name. A tickling flutter erupts with a burst in his belly. He almost creams himself at the sound of that name in your voice.

“Come on. Be good for me. You can be good for me. Can’t you, baby?” You plead. Moving your hips in a painfully slow, steady rhythm.

“Fuuuuuuuck. Babe, please-” Peter begs, “Faster? Faster, please. Yer killin’ me."

Your sharp nails sink into his bare chest, manifesting more glassy shards of frost. Winter cold seizes Peter’s body entirely, infecting him with frostbite’s kiss. Peter knits his brows tightly, his dark eyes mesmerized with your every movement. The freezing solace permeating from your pussy proves a little too overwhelming. As sharp, pinpricks of cold rush through his veins; it all morphs into carnal heat.

His muscles quickly tighten, every inch of him tensing in an instant.

“Wait wait wait! Fuck!” Peter whimpers in desperation, a flurry of moans erupting from his throat. His rock hard cock twitches, pulsating under you as he cums. Leaking thick streams of his seed into his boxers and jumpsuit, “F-Fuck! I’m sorry, baby! Ohhhhh god! I’m so sorry.”

As far as Peter knows, you have no clue he’s a virgin. Until now, he was content with that. He hadn’t planned on announcing it anytime soon. In hindsight, it’s pretty fucking embarrassing how easily he comes undone. All from a little dry humping, no less.

Yeah. You’re bound to figure it out sooner or later. Yikes.

Sticky, white pearls of his cum seep through his jumpsuit, staining the material. Your erotic motions slow to a stop, once you notice the streaks sticking to your clothed cunt. Tilting your head, you raise a brow. A delicate blush swarms your neck and ears, as you stare down at Peter with genuine surprise. He tilts his head back shamefully, sighing.

“D-Did you just-” You hesitate to continue. Wintry fingertips trace over his bare chest, “Damn, Quickie, that was fast.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Peter sighs again, bringing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, “Dammit.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tight, feeling blistering warmth rapidly return. Taunting him with the promise of death by suffocation all over again. Before he finally succumbs to it, you crawl over him. Knees braced on either side of his body.

“I’m…god, I’m really fuckin’ sorry about that.” Peter awkwardly stammers, “I-I just…fuck! Yer just so-”

You shush him, chuckling, “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. That was so, sooooooo hot. Really hot, if I’m being honest.”

By virtue of his blessed genes, Peter takes very little time to recover. And hell, you make it an impossible feat not to chub up all over again. Your arctic tongue intertwines with his hotter one, as you meet him in another sloppy kiss. Cold hands grasp his cheeks, quickly sliding through his hair. Dragging your nails across Peter’s scalp, you kiss him with more urgency.

Peter sneaks his hands to your juicy ass, warm palms feeling at your plush booty cheeks. He gives one of them a light, playful smack. Drawing out a squeak from you, Peter giggles into your mouthy kisses. He’s distracted enough, he almost doesn’t notice you tugging the zipper of his jumpsuit.

“C’mon, get this thing off already.” You pull the zipper down even further, murmuring through frantic kisses, “Before you die of heat stroke in my bed.”

With a hmph , Peter nods his head, “Hey, if it’s life ‘er death? Guess I’ve got no choice then, huh?” He replies, fabricating his confidence, “Just a sec.”

Peter sits up fully on your bed, his feet absentmindedly kicking a few plushies on the floor. You slide off the bed entirely. Stepping back to give Peter the space he needs. From your perspective, the removal of his sweaty jumpsuit takes less than a second. But from Peter’s own POV, it’s a thousand years before he finally pulls himself out of his clothes. Clumsily, he peels his sticky limbs free.

“Fuckin’ shit-” He curses, struggling to free one of his ankles once he’s done.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but a faint air of raw cold filters through the space of your room. With his body free of stifling clothing; Peter can finally embrace that coolness in full. It bites sharply at his skin, making him shudder. Peter inhales a slow, deep breath just to feel it all

“Oh, wow! It feels damn good in here, Screwball! Like, woahhh! I feel like I’ve been sweatin’ my balls off this whole time until now.” He says.

“That’s the most charming thing you’ve said all day.” You sarcastically chime. And he snorts.

Peter promptly rids himself of his sweat soaked shirt, aching to feel more frigid air on his skin. He tosses the drenched fabric to the floor. Left in his cum stained boxers, Peter shifts uncomfortably on your bed. Self consciously, he gazes at you with a doe eyed look. He twiddles his thumbs in his lap.

“Sooooooo…uh…a-are you gonna take off yer-uhm…” Peter gives you a once over, gesturing to your jumpsuit.

He lets his long, sturdy legs hang off the side of your bed. Watching as you take slow steps backwards, pulling that tiny, snowflake zipper of yours. Dragging it all the way down. A mischievous spark twinkles in your eye, and Peter’s heart skips a thousand beats. Even though you’re trying your best to be sexy, you’re still just as clumsy as he was.

Which somehow, ultimately makes you even sexier to him.

You peel your limbs out of your glittering jumpsuit. Revealing the underwear beneath, fitting your body in all the right ways. Peter’s adam’s apple bobs, his eyes flitting up and down your curvaceous form. Drinking in the image of you almost completely bare.

“Holy shit.” Peter mumbles, leaning back and bracing his hands on your bed.

You’re giggling again. Blessing his ears with a precious sound he’s grown to adore over the last…however long it’s been since you invited him in. Peter can’t really remember. It’s impossible to hold any sense of rational thought while watching you like this. Especially when you pull off everything except your little, lace panties. Freeing your-

Whoaaaaaaa, mama.

There they are. In all their beautiful, freezing glory. Your icy cold knockers bounce freely. And with a flawlessly executed jiggle, too. If Peter had a sign, he'd rate them a perfect ten.

The skin of your breasts is heavenly soft, dusted in a faint motif of frosty snowflakes. Nipples perky.

Peter's wondered about those suckers for ages. And you most definitely don't disappoint. He whistles, his eyes flying open. Black pupils dilating like drops of heavy ink. No matter how hard he tries, he can't tear his gaze away from those bouncy beauties.

"Damn, Screwball…" Peter grins, shaking his head, "Yer a smokeshow, babe."

Subconsciously, he palms his hardening dick over his boxer briefs. Momentarily grimacing at the texture of drying cum in the fabric. His focused gaze lingers a little too long on your totally righteous titties. You're talking again. Speaking words in that sweet voice, though they go unheard.

Bwah bwah bwah bwah!

You must have given up on trying. He barely sees you coming, as you collide your lips with his again. Shocking him out of his boob-induced daze. The moment you're in close enough range, he reaches out to touch you. Burning hot palms fondle your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples. Furrowing your brows, you squeal into his mouth.

"Your hands-" You whine, "Your hands are so hot. It's like you're on fire." And Peter chuckles a heated breath in response.

"See? And that's why we're here. Gotta beat the heat somehow, eh?" He says, his hands playing with your frosty titties. Silken and cold on his skin.

Sinking to the floor, you lower yourself onto your knees. Peter knows without an ounce of doubt; your poor knees have to be aching like hell right about now. Yet, you persist. He scoots a little further at the edge of your bed, allowing you to ease yourself between his spread legs. With one less layer of clothing in the way of your touch, the coolness feels even more crisp and harsh over his cock.

“God, you’re so pretty…” He mumbles.

Peter stares down at you in awe, curling his fingers into the sheets. Biting your lip with an impish grin, you ease his boxers off completely. As your glimmering eyes meet the full length of his cock, you're instantly enamored. His dick, colored a scarlet hue and pulsing with thick veins, bounces over a silver bush of hair.

You haven't even touched him directly yet. But Peter can already feel that freezing aura easing in close. Swiping your tongue across your plush lips, you gaze at Peter's dick like your hunger hasn't been satiated in weeks.

No words are spoken between you both. As one of your hands treads carefully. Barely touching his thickness with your fingers. You stroke him in slow, but firm motions at first. Peter arches his back in shock, the cold like electricity rushing through his veins. Arctic temperatures rapidly pump his body full of adrenaline.

Maybe that’s why he’s so into this. Being a speedster, he’s always been addicted to the rush of exhilaration.

“Ohhh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Peter moans.

Your strokes slide up to the swollen, purple-ish head of his cock. Squeezing tightly. But the tip is too outrageously sensitive. A simple, icy cold tug of it gets Peter practically seizing. White light flashes through his vision. And just like that, he’s going totally mental. He jumps with an abrupt jerk, his body vibrating.

Peter whimpers in quick gasps, “Ah! N-Not the tip, baby! Not the tip!”

You make a quick retreat, sliding your hand down to the thick base of his length. Pumping his vascular cock in a frosty fist. He can feel his blood vessels constricting with every motion. Cold creeps under his skin, bringing with it a burning sensation. Peter’s groin tightens, and his moans turn to pleading whimpers.

With a cheshire grin, you flutter your lashes over a naughty gaze. Leaning forward, you tease the smooth length of his cock with your lips. Kitten licking a vein with the tip of your tongue.

“W-Wait! Hold on, Screwball! Fuck-” One of Peter’s hands finds your head, clutching strands of your hair between his fingers, “It’s too much, baby! I can’t-”

A long, chilling swipe of your tongue brings momentary crystals of ice. Igniting the burn along his skin. Peter never thought himself a masochist. But this freaky, frosty jerk-off session has somehow completely rewired his brain chemistry. Pain never felt so good.

In all your wickedness, little minx, you refuse to heed Peter’s warning. Your mouth engulfs the scorching heat of his cock. Surrounding him in a crisp, cold shroud. Bringing upon him a vengeance of the bleakest kind. Like a frostbitten hug, sending shockwaves of pleasure fluttering through his bones. Peter’s breathing quickens.

“Ah! FUCK! Gonna fuckin-...I’m fuckin’ cumming, baby! Sorry, sorry, sorr-” He falters over broken whines.

Acting on impulse like the total spaz he is, Peter panics. Tugging your head from his cock so he doesn’t bust a load in your mouth. He lags a few seconds behind. Late again, as per usual.

Peter accidentally showers your precious lips in his cum. Painting your face in hot, messy strands of it. He writhes in place, sluggishly rocking his hips forward. The spurting tip of his dick kisses your lips, the length bouncing with every eruption of thick, sticky heat.

For a second time in a row, he’s blown his load prematurely. Impressive, in a really lame way. But, hey, even if Peter feels a little bad for glossing you in his cum. He’s gotta admit, you look drop dead gorgeous like this.

Peter quickly snaps out of his post-nut daze, his eyes dancing across your decorated face.

Ah. Actually, now that he’s thinking somewhat clearly again…it’s a little gross. He fumbles over an onslaught of apologies. Reaching to the floor for his discarded shirt without thinking, he wipes your face clean of his nut.

Wait. Fuck. Why’d he use his shirt? Shit. Get it together, Quickie!

As always, you’re just as chill about this as you have been everything else, “That wasn’t so bad. But thanks. Sorry about your shirt, though.” You giggle. But all Peter does is shamefully laugh in response.

You’re perceptive enough to catch onto his sudden hesitance. He tenses, avoiding your pretty eyes. Bouncing a nervous leg at the speed of a rabbit’s kicks. Twice now, you’ve seen him finish way too early. And though he knows in his heart you wouldn’t judge him for his lack of experience; a small part of him fears the worst.

He really likes you, actually. It’d hurt like hell if you thought less of him over something so trivial.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” You ask. Playful, but still concerned.

Peter’s heart aches in the presence of your gentle nature. Swallowing his pride, he opts to confess. And if you think him pathetic for being a thirty year old virgin? Fuck it. He’s betting Hank’s mini fridge is still vacant.

You’re resting on your knees in between his legs, tracing feather-light, frosty patterns into his thigh. Peter’s skin swiftly erupts in goosebumps again, his body never accustomed to your arctic touch. Taking a deep breath, he drops his head forward.

“I…gotta be honest with ya about somethin’. I’ts-...” Peter cuts himself off with a sigh, burying his face in his hands, “I’m kind of…a virgin. Y’know, if you couldn’t already tell. I just…didn’t wanna say anything.”

“Pfffttt …” You puff in disbelief, like you’re assuming he’s messing with you. But Peter blinks, staring down into your eyes with a look that tells you he’s all business, “You’re serious? But, Peter, no offense? I’m really surprised! You always seemed like such a player. Like, you flirt with literally everyone.”

Peter stares at you in silence. He shakes his head, brows furrowed. A timid grin curling into his lips.

“I guess? I talk a big game, yeah. And I’ve made out with a lotta girls. Screwed around a few times. But…nah. I’ve never-uh…actually, really screwed. I dunno if the timing was never right or what, but…” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Despite fighting an internal war of crippling shame.

“Well, we’ll just have to remedy this then, won’t we?” Your hand rises to his chin, thumb tenderly stroking rough, silver stubble.

His eyes fly open, cheeks swarming a bright red. A beat, and Peter’s dick already twitches to life again at the prospect of your offer. However, despite his body’s insatiable desire, he waves his hands and shakes his head.

“N-No! No, babe! Listen, you don’t have to. I really wasn’t implyin’ anything when I said…uh…it’s just…I-I’ve never told anyone. That's all!”

“It’s fine! I said I would take care of you, didn’t I?”

He swallows, caught off guard by your choice of words. ‘Take care of you.’ His brows raise high, and the cartoonishly fast pounding of his heart returns. Fluttering in his chest, hiking up to sonic speed. Peter opens his mouth to protest, to remind you that you shouldn’t feel pressured into stealing his v-card.

But you’re already pushing yourself off the floor, climbing over Peter on your bed. With your icy hand to his chest, you guide him down onto his back. He gazes up at you with an uncertain, but lustful look in his dark eyes. In spite of the significantly cooler temperature of your room; Peter’s entire body breaks out in a humid sweat.

Okay. Calm down, man. Take a chill pill. Relax.

“You got any condoms?” You ask, blunt and up front.

So. This is really happening, huh? Yeah. Peter’s gonna lose his v-card to one of his teammates. No biggie. Screwing his fellow X-Man Screwball? Totally not a big deal.

Peter swallows dryly again, an awkward chuckle vibrating over his tongue.

“Not on me, no. I don’t really-uhhh…carry those around.” He makes a hasty move to sit up, “But I can run to the store really quick and grab some. Y’wanna snack ‘er a drink while I’m at it? I could really go fer somethin’ sweet like-”

Your frosty lips capture his in yet another, intimate kiss. For the sake of Peter’s inexperience, you take your time. Guiding Peter down onto his back once more. Working with tender consideration. When your tongue so lovingly swirls with his, he scowls. Tasting the lingering bitterness of his nut. He curls his lip.

“Euuuugh! Augh! Blegh! Is that really what I taste like? Eck! I’m so sorry, Screwball. I’ll try to spare ya next time. Eugh. That’s disgusting!” He rambles, overcompensating for his uneasy nerves again.

“Next time?” You raise your brows. Supple, wet lips smirking.

“Y-Yeah? Yeah…like… pfftt …if you want…” Peter shrugs, casual, blinking puppy dog eyes, “I dunno about you, but I’m havin’ a killer time fuckin’ around like this.” He adds, fingers toying with the hem of your panties.

Reaching for his cock, you take his length into your icy cold grip. Peter jolts again, cursing under his breath.

“I need to confess something too.” You say, bashful. Peter watches your facade of confidence diminish for a moment, “Would you still wanna do this if I told you I’m just as cold on the inside?”

“Woah…yeah. Listen, that is the opposite of a problem for me.” Peter reassures you, looking between your bodies, “Call me crazy? I’m really diggin’ the whole cold thing.”

He watches your fingers hook through the hem of your panties, sliding them down your smooth legs. It’s a bit awkward for you to get them off in this position. But eventually, you’re entirely exposed.

No more messing around. This is the real deal.

Wiggling your ass, you position your wintry cunt over his cock’s swollen head. Peter’s fingers tremble as they grab your ass for purchase. Holding you steady, he keeps his lidded gaze on your pussy. Entranced in the sight of your puffy lips lowering over his tip. Barely nudging it in, giving just a little tease of what’s to come. He shivers, muscles locking, shockwaves of glacial cold racing through his veins already.

“Ohhhhhhhh …wow…” He whines, teeth clamping his lip, “Please, ya gotta gimme more than that, baby.”

“Pietro, be patient.” You chastise him, fluttering your eyes closed.

Sighs and erotic moans of euphoria rise from the both of you in unison, just as his leaking tip dives through your cushiony walls. Peter shudders again, craning his neck back. Moaning a broken, strangled sound from deep in his chest. The tight, freezing sting of your cunt causes him to tense up. Peter digs his nails into the flesh of your ass, his lips parting for breath.

“Mmmmmfffuuck. You good? You okay?” You ask, little mewls bubbling in your throat.

Through frantic, wordless intakes of breath, Peter nods.

He’s never felt anything like this in all his thirty years of life. It’s a completely new sensation. The plushiest of pins and needles constricting tightly around his cock. Or the world’s softest pillow, pulled straight out of the freezer. Sex with you is the kind he could so easily become addicted to. If it was possible to stay connected this intimately forever, he’d do so in a heartbeat. No questions asked. Totally worth the searing pain of frostbite.

You take a few moments to adjust to the length and girth of him. It feels like centuries before you’re moving, but the wait is more than worth it. Your cunt weeps around his cock, swallowing him up completely in a frosty slickness. Peter chokes, his breath hitching. The pace you set is frustratingly slow, bouncing into his pelvis in steady slams of bush on silver bush.

“Fuck yeah. Just like that. More? C’mon gimme more, baby, please. Oh, please!” He whines, submissive and needy.

Sitting up a little straighter, you balance your cool hands on his chest. Peter’s skin is all raw and red, frostbitten from your previous teasing. It’s a little painful now, actually. Leaving a tingly burn. But the stinging pain registers as pleasure in Peter’s speedy brain.

Your pussy molds perfectly with the thick shape of him. Roughly shocking you with a surge of dull pain, Peter’s cock knocks straight into your squishy cervix. His expression contorts in overstimulation, his mouth falling open. He wets his lips with his tongue.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ ride me. Mmmmm yeah~” Peter moans, “Yer so fuckin’ cold. Shit-” His moans steadily trail off into whimpers.

“Should I stop? Is it too much?” You halt your movements for a second too long.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ stop.” He groans, animalistic and ragged, “Ohhhh~ Please don’t stop.”

As you thrust your beautiful body into his lap, Peter follows your lead. Driving his hips against your ass with each bounce of contact. Overshadowing that sultry melody of Pink Floyd with the lewd smacking of skin on skin. Your cunt hugs his cock in a grip tight enough to induce more freezer burn. But it’s such an alluring feeling, he bites his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

Peter’s brown-eyed gaze rakes down your body. Intoxicated with the way your titties bounce and your pussy sucks the ever-speeding soul out of him. He has to mentally-prep himself so he doesn’t cum too soon again. But the piercing cold compressing his dick sends thrilling pulses through his limbs. Erotic pleasure burns deep in his gut.

“Pietro!” You cry. Riding his dick and mewling soft kitten noises, you circle your little clit with your fingers, “Want me to cum on your cock, pretty boy? Wanna feel this tight, little pussy cum for you?”

Ohhhhh. You can’t do that to him. Dirty, little minx. He’s never heard such filthy words like that come out of your mouth. And the way you sound, how you look touching yourself on his cock; It all triggers a carnal instinct in the recesses of his mind.

Peter lifts his hips in a display of super strength, abusing your cervix repeatedly with his cock. Pounding your pussy so fast and hard. With a force deep and rough enough to make you see stars. A filthy squelch of a sound echoes from inside you.

“Oh my god-” Peter’s face contorts in needy desperation, brows creasing, “Please? Wanna feel you cum, baby. Need you to cum on my dick so bad.”

Sitting up on his elbows with his mouth hanging lazily open, Peter brings his fingers to his drooling tongue. His eyes are half lidded and cloudy, almost rolling back into his skull. He reaches out, the wet pads of his fingers meeting your cute bud. He buzzes his digits in a scorching vibration, knowing how sensitive you are to his heat. Easily coaxing you towards release.

“HOH! FUCK-” Peter’s eyes flutter in shock, “ Ohmyfuckingod that’s really fuckin’ tight. ”

His body tenses hard as stone. Feeling you clench around him while he fucks you so deep he thinks he’s reached your stomach. Within a few, measly seconds of teasing vibrations on your clit; you’re cumming. Coating his cock in a wave of crisp slickness. You tremble uncontrollably, tilting your head back and crying like a siren of the arctic seas. Singing a mantra of the name Pietro.

Peter grips your hips hard with both hands, sinking his blunt nails into your skin. Animalistic instinct overflows his mind as soon as he’s reached his own peak. Ecstasy tumbles over Peter in an overwhelming crash, much like an avalanche. And just as he’s pumping you impossibly full of hot, thick ropes of cum; something happens.

His release burns inside you, pooling in a milky heat. A stark contrast to the freezing temperature constantly flowing through your body. Your nails scratch red lines into his chest, manifesting glass crystals of frost. They burn like hell, and Peter hisses. One, final slap of your ass against his lap, and –

A ripple of explosive, winter cold rushes from your body in a flash. The bombastic wave coats your entire room in powdery snow and sheets of ice. Turning the small space into a glorified freezer. It even hits the record player, slowing the final tune of Obscured by Clouds to a creeping stop. Piercing cold fires through Peter’s lungs, and he chokes on it.

…D…Did that really just happen??

Glancing around frantically, he pushes himself up on your bed.

A soft, tingling blanket of snow drapes his body. Peter sputters, quickly brushing as much of it off as he can. You’re still sitting over his lap, his softening dick tucked safely between your pussy’s plush walls. With every puff of warm air from his lungs, Peter can see his breath fanning like smoke through the air.

“Woooahhhhh, babe…” He nudges you on the shoulder to get your attention, his expression wide eyed and bewildered, “Are you seein’ this shit?”

Recovering from your numbing state of euphoria, you lazily scan your room. You gasp, though it sounds more like a really cute squeak; covering your mouth with a hand.

“Ah! What the hell did I do!? I’m sorry! Oh my god, Peter, I’m so sorry!” You say, dropping your face into Peter’s frost-bitten chest.

He hisses as you lean into his sensitive, scarred skin. And before you can spout off another flurry of sweet apologies – a noise catches the attention of you both. Outside, the two of you hear the unmistakable sound of children’s laughter. Joyful cries, followed by playful giggles and screams. You raise your head, meeting Peter’s doe eyes with a questioning look.

Narrowing his eyes, he pats your thigh. Signaling you to hop off his lap.

Clumsily, Peter zips around the room in a blur, searching for something to cover himself up with. But his clothes are all caked in snow. And not to mention a little something else. Peter has to resort to a blanket stuffed underneath all the others on your bed. Untouched by your surprise blizzard. He cloaks himself in the blanket, appearing at your door in a fwip.

Discreetly, he pulls the door open.

Or, at least, he makes an attempt. It’s completely frozen in place, sealed with ice around the lock and hinges.. Why is he even surprised at this point? Peter tugs the handle once or twice with barely any strength. And when that doesn’t work, he jerks it open with a harsh flex of his muscles. He pokes his fluffy, silverette head halfway out the door. Looking up and down the hallways.

Only to find…

Your orgasmic snowstorm reached places far beyond the confined space of your room. Looks like Christmas came early this year. The hallways of Xavier’s mansion are all drenched in frosty spreads of snow. It’s not nearly as much as what’s accumulated in your room. But it’s enough to stir up the students and teachers. Many of the kids run around excitedly. Bouncing, cheering, celebrating.

And who can blame them?

To those unseen forces of the universe out there: thanks for blessing us all with the power of Screwball's ecstasy.

Out of nowhere, the X-Men’s laser eyed leader makes his appearance. Scott comes skidding to a halt outside your door just at that moment. He balances himself with a hand to your door, a genial smile on his face. A fuzzy fust of red tickles the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

Across the hall, Logan leans casually against a wall. Puffing a cigar, wearing a thin undershirt that compliments his jacked form a little too well. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his fitted jeans.

For a moment, Scott doesn’t seem to register why Peter’s even in your room.

But in this life, one speedster can only be so lucky.

“Wh-...Peter? Hey-uh…where’s-” Scott mentions your name, and continues, “I wanted to give ‘em my thanks for doing this.” He gestures over his shoulder to the mess of snow covering the walls and floors, “Some of the kids were getting really sick from the weather. And I know Xavier's gonna be pissed, but-...” His voice slowly trails off.

Scott’s smile falls for a beat. But Peter finds it hard to read his emotions without seeing his eyes clearly. Those sunglasses must do him loads of favors on a daily basis. If he tries, he can gauge what’s going through Scott’s head based on the look of surprise that crosses his face. Followed by a sly, knowing grin.

Summers is an intelligent guy. It doesn’t take long for him to put two and two together.

Especially with the way Peter stands in your doorway. He’s draped in a blanket that clearly isn’t his, shoulders bare underneath. The surface of his skin burns cherry red in some places. His hair is a tousled, fuzzy mess, and his cheeks are flushed bright pink.

Peter awkwardly swallows, avoiding the vibrant gaze of Scott’s red-tinted sunglasses. He directs his attention over his shoulder instead, making accidental eye contact with Logan. Wolvie arches a thick, quizzical brow, his eyes glancing over Peter’s blanketed form.

He really hadn’t meant for anyone to find out about this. But it looks like the cat’s out of the bag.

“You kids better be using protection.” Scott jokes, patronizing.

Which is funny, coming from him. Peter’s got ten years on him at the least.

“Uhhhh, yeah. I’ll totally tell ‘em you said thanks. We cool? Bitchin’. Later, Summers.” Peter rushes through his words ultra fast, before slamming the door shut behind him.

That’ll be a rough one to explain later. But hopefully no one’ll be nosy enough to pry. Besides, Peter doesn’t wanna think about it right now. Since, y’know, he kinda just got laid for the first time. Which is really fucking awesome, now that he can stop and really digest that it happened. And with someone he’s been crushing on too.

Maybe he’s luckier than he thought.

Peter presses his back against your icy door, letting the thick blanket covering his body fall to the floor. Leaving him butt ass naked in your freezer of a room. He rakes his fingers through his hair, cheesing a goofy smile to himself.

“What’s goin’ on? Were you talkin’ to someone?” You ask, emerging from your bathroom and brushing snow off a towel.

“Oh- pfffttt …just Summers. Yeah. He-uh…wanted to tell you thanks. ‘Cuz you kinda went all blizzard on this whole place and now it’s, like-” Peter makes a wide gesture with his hands, mimicking the sound of an avalanche falling. Or, that’s what he tries to do, anyway. He’s never been the best at charades.

“HUH!? What are you-” You rush to your door. Those pretty titties of yours bounce with every step. And Peter ogles them shamelessly. Poking your head through the door, he overhears the sound of your gasp. Followed by the shyest little, “Heyyyyyy, Logan.”

Before you’re closing the door again, marching to your bathroom with your head cast down in shame.

“Xavier’s gonna kill me, dude! I can’t believe this!” You whisper-shout.

Your bashfulness and frustration are so cute, Peter has to refrain from snickering. And as you reach the doorway, you stop yourself. He catches the motion of your eyes checking him out, before your gazes meet again. Peter smirks.

“Uhm…how was your first time, by the way?” You ask in a quiet, uncertain tone, “Was it…okay?”

Oh, you cannot even be serious right now.

Peter gives you a weird look. Staring at you like you’re some strange, newly discovered entity from a far off universe. Really, you must be, if you’re gonna question a good time like that.

“Okay? Okay?? ” Peter appears before you in less than a blink’s time.

He wraps his strong arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body. Grinning confidently, he darts down to kiss your frosty lips.

“Screwball, baby, that was a total rush. Are you crazy? It’s not every day I make somebody cum so hard they kickstart an early winter, y’know. Not bad fer my first time, if I do say so myself.” He waggles his brows.

I’m really glad I could help you out…” You mutter, smiling so sweet.

Your fingers trace the burns littering Peter’s chest with a feather-light touch. Even the faintest brush makes him wince in pain. But he’s not ashamed to admit it’s totally worth it. What’s a little freezer burn and frostbite between friends, huh?

Or, between…whatever the two of you are now.

“Oh, you did wayyyy more than help me out.” Peter winks, kissing you once more, “You rocked my world babe. Don’t sweat it, ‘kay? I had a great time.”

You saunter off to your bathroom then. And Peter reaches out to playfully smack your ass as you walk away. He admires your gorgeous figure in all its naked glory. His eyes following the jiggle of your booty cheeks.

“Yer still takin’ me on that date, right? Dinner and a movie?” He asks, startling you with his sudden appearance in the bathroom. Peter presses himself into your back, standing tall in comparison to your height.

“Can we hold off? Do you think you can wait until the city isn’t on fire?” You meet his dark eyes in the mirror over the sink, “And it can’t be Howard the Duck.”

“No. It’s most definitely gotta be Howard the Duck.” Peter brings his warm hands to your shoulders, thumbs gliding along your soft skin. He leans down to pepper your sex hair in kisses, “I won’t accept nothin’ else, got it?

“Mmmhm. Shouldn’t I be the judge of that, Peter? Since, like, you keep implying I’m the one paying.”

He scoffs, slowly gliding his large hands over the irresistible curves of your body. He gives a mischievous grin through the mirror, his look oozing speedster charm.

“Who said anything about paying?”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #txt #smut

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goatedgreen · 1 month

Text

Okay lets analyse this one for realsies. Im gonna go through each character in this tweet and go through reasons why i think they either would or would not be crying first, then im gonna put them in order of who survives the roast sesh.... join me on this wonderous journey.

Let's start with Atsumu.... where to even fucking begin. sorry to the Atsumu haters but i truly believe he would not be crying first. First of all he has known Osamu since he was born and while Osamu is the "nice twin" the bar is truly in hell and that motherfucker is mean to one person and one person only and that person is his twin brother Atsumu. This mfer has been conditioned since birth to roast and be roasted. Not only that but this guy was CANONICALLY hated by everyone in his middle school, and his only reaction to that information was "So?" HE DOES NOT CARREEEE. And, I will say, while the other characters shown here are bitchy, they usually target people in petty ways that make fun of their skills (with the exception of Daisho who would probs call Atsumu a single loser but he'd likely just get annoyed by that not cry) and Atsumu knows that his skills are too good for anything they say to hold weight., He has the ego the size of the fucking gym. he's fine.

TSUKISHIMA on the other hand.... dare i say it not the strongest contender ... I dont think FIRST. but this guy is wayyyy more sensitive to criticism than people generally give him credit for. LIKE YES BEFORE YOU JUMP DOWN MY THROAT, he absolutely has the whole "keep booing me it only makes me stronger" thing going on in the Inarizaki game BUT YOU FORGET SO QUICKLY how absolutely insecure this guy is. until yamaguchi kicked his ass into gear in the training camp, he was of the impression that trying to get better at something he enjoyed was fruitless because there was always going to be someone better than him. Someone insightful like Oikawa or Atsumu would def be able to pick up on that insecurity and target him for it. I think his strongest talent is of course provoking people so much that they cant see how much they're affecting him, so he gets a lot of points for pettiness that would keep him from crying first because theres no way he's gonna LOSEEEE to someone like Daisho or Oikawa. BONUS POINTS on his behalf though is he was the only one on the team at the end of season one who WASNT CRYING about their loss. And i think the only one on karasuno who we havent seen cry (as far as i can remember).

Now listen.... fanon Oikawa is for sure crying first because for some bizzare reason people characterise him as a pushover twink. Canon Oikawa told USHIJIMA to remember his worthless pride so he could crush him in the future. like... he's kind of taking names a little. i'll allow him a small slay for his efforts of being a bitch to Ushijima. Oikawa is SMARTTTT and has a lot of emotional intelligence, so can for sure target people's insecurities with pinpoint accuracy. He doesnt get SUPER easily riled up when he's "in the zone" and only lashes out when he's backed into a corner. he hangs out with what is probably a team of people scientifically designed in a lab to HUMBLE HIM DAILY, so he has built up somewhat immunity to being insulted and targeted for bully behaviour. LOSES TREMENDOUS AMOUNTS OF POINTS for being kind of a sore loser and someone who FOR SURE cries when angry or frustrated.

Daisho.... why is he even here (sorry to those who love him). Listen... this guy is petty, and he lowkey cheats, and he takes immense joy in riling people up for shits and gigs... BUT WHYYY IS HE HERE LMAOOOO. to be honest, i dont think he would cry first purely for the fact that he doesnt know these other guys well enough to really gaf about what theyre saying to him. on the other hand, that makes him kind of an easy target because he's so irrelevant to these other guys lives that they could probably make him feel like shit for that reason only. he gets bonus points for being the only one in a canonical relationship (oikawas girlfriend we never meet that he broke up with doesnt count, in fact it loses him points).

WITH ALL THAT BEING SAID. the final order i think is, Oikawa goes out crying first, not because he's upset but because he got sooo fucking mad at Atsumu's unbothered behaviour he had to leave and he was angry crying while doing it. Daisho is next because Tsukishima said some shit like "bro who even are you lmaooo irrelevant ass" and he remembered he sucks at volleyball and got upset, he's okay tho bc his gf is there to comfort him. Atsumu cries next but not because of anything Tsukishima says, he just gets so fucking bored of Tsukishima not giving him interesting reactions to his jabs that he starts doing weird shit like standing on his head and he ends up hurting himself and crying because he is a big baby. Tsukishima is the last one standing .

...

That is of course assuming that Oikawa doesnt kill them all first with his Super Triple Homo Spin Serve that killed all of Karasuno. People forget so quickly that he is the most diabolical anime villain of all time...

#haikyuu #suguru daishou #tsukishima kei #miya atsumu #oikawa tooru #SORRY SORRY I JUST WANTED TO DO THIS BC I FOUND IT FUNNY

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snoozisworld · 6 months

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Kung Lao Headcanons (SFW & NSFW)

A/N: I love kung lao so much im gonna explode. i hope i did him justice cuz hes been my fav since mk9

SFW:

Talks/brags about you a lot whenever he hangs out with Raiden and friends. Johnny has to cut him off every time just so they can get him to talk about anything else.

Refuses to eat out now that he's met you. "Why do we have to waste money on restaurants when your food is soo much better?". You're totally welcomed to slap some sense into him.

Tells you he doesn't like when you touch his hat, but secretly loves seeing you wear it. Whether it's because he finds it funny how much bigger it is on you or because he loves that you admire his weapon choice.

Will purposely go shirtless while sparing if you're visiting him at the Wu Shi. Swears it's not because of you but Raiden and literally everyone else says otherwise. (Not that you're complaining)

Loves the beach. Owns a surfboard but no longer knows how to use it (Surfed when he was younger but now the Wu Shi takes up too much of his time)

ADORES when you dress up for him. The fact that you were thinking about him while picking out a hot outfit? He's getting down on one knee as we speak.

Shamelessly checks you out. Everywhere, at any time. I don't fully believe he even knows what shame is.

Would pay for you to become his personal hair massager. The feeling of your nails on his scalp, the little kisses you leave on his head every now and then, loves everything about it. Quickest way to get him to sleep.

Heavy sleeper. Like HEAVY heavy, scares the crap out of you 8 times out of 10.

"Babe, the ice cream truck is here" *sigh* "Fine go get my purse"

NSFW:

The type of dude to say he doesn't like condoms cause they're "too tight". Will wear one if you ask him to regardless.

He sweats a lot during it. Its almost as impressive as it is incredibly hot.

Has the stamina of a horse. Round 2? No, round 47 baby buckle up.

Doesn't think to deep about positions, but if he had to pick favorites it would be either doggy style or cowgirl.

You thought he was cocky normally? You haven't seen nothing yet. This guy will tease you so much it will probably be your cause of death.

DO NOT wear his clothes around him. It drives him absolutely nuts and unless you want to forget how to walk, choose your battles wisely.

(IN MY OPINION) Is not a fan of toys. Especially dildos, no silicone replacements around here partner, he wants to be the only one for you.

Is down for practically whatever as long as he gets to fuck. Whenever, wherever, doesn't matter, just say the word and he's in.

Marks you up literally everywhere. Especially in all the annoying, hard to cover up places. Gets a surge of pride whenever you give up on trying to cover up a hickey of his and just end up going out as is.

A/N: Thats it!! Again, feedback is always appreciated! Also about the surfing thing... I had a random thought about it and now its consumed me. Will definitely explore it in the future ;)

#kung lao x reader #kung lao #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1 #mk11 #kung lao x you #mk raiden #johnny cage #fanfic #headcanon #afab reader #gender neutral reader #amab reader #somebody sedate me

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savannahsdeath · 7 months

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SOCCER!ELLIE X CHEERLEADER!READER

PART 5FIVE aka; the epilogue

part 4four

warnings: minors safe !!🩷

writers note: finally the end ugh.. im not gonna lie, i hate how the whole 'series' (its too short to be called a series, but wtv) turned out, so im glad to finish it. though, im looking forward to make another fic with actual plot and not just smut, tho an abby one (i already have the epilogue written and im so so excited🤭)

you felt stupid. stupid, but mostly hurt. you couldn't understand why a small part of you wanted to believe that vi did nothing wrong. that small part of you wanted to end all of this, get on good terms with vi and be with ellie.

although, you weren't hurt by cheating itself. after all, you thought that's what happened for the past months, so you were already mentally prepared for that.

whatever.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

you and ellie went through all the usual motions of a happy couple together, though not as an official couple yet. you spent time with each other and your friends, and you slowly forgot about the past and all the drama you had experienced.

you didn't forget about vi, though. you still felt guilty about the way you let her manipulate you like that. you could still hear her voice in your mind, telling you love isn't something you both have and, probably, never had.

you decided she shouldn't be a part of your life anymore, and you did your best to avoid her. she didn't know that you know, though it was obvious, since the rumours continued. you just didn't care anymore. not about her, at least.

ellie didn't speak much about the past, and you didn't either, because you felt like you didn't need to. the past was the past, and now you were looking forward to your future together.

you started thinking less and less about vi, soon managing to get her out of your mind for the whole day. not much, but after what happened, it was a big success. she was no longer a part of your life. ellie was, and that's all that mattered to you now.

you spent more and more time with her. you got to know her team better, returning the favor by taking her to your friend group's meeting.

you told luccy, your best friend, about the whole situation. it took you a good few hours to explain everything.

luccy listened to your entire story, impressed by the twists and turns it took. you could tell she was almost as surprised as you, her eyes widening with each sentence.

"well, no wonder you were so confused," she said politely, "but at least you have ellie now, and you seem happy together." she paused for a moment, before asking; "do you miss vi at all?"

you sighed and closed your eyes, imagining every good moment with her and comparing it to the happiness ellie brought you.

it was almost impossible to answer your friend's question.

on one hand, you had had great moments with vi, and you could even admit that you loved her.

and then there's ellie - which made you remember that your ex wasn't there for you when you needed it.

"no, i don't think so." you replied, ashamedly looking down. "ellie makes me feel like i never even truly loved vi."

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

i want to add some 'last words' about this fic, especially this part. a lot of you guys will probably be mad at me for not taking any revenge. but you, as the reader, have to understand that its not that easy. after being so hurt, after hearing so many lies, all you wanted was a normal relationship. a stable, honest and calm one. the one you got with ellie. you knew getting revenge would only complicate things - you probably wont be able to forget her at all once youd put salt on the wounds all over again. just the fact that she has to see you happy with ellie, while shes left alone, is enough. thanks to everyone who supported the series<3

TAGS: @wandasromanova @bellaramslover @aouiaa @glennns-blog @elliewilliamsfuckbuddy @iheartsadiesink @ximtiredx @coff1nn @jowdann @simpforellie @iveofficiallylostmymarbles @skylerwhitwyo @pinkigirl @islalips @ratdungeon @okayyesbutno @dinoastronaut @ucannotcompare @elyonz @lesbiantothemoonandback @lovejuliettq @param8re @r3wbeef and some more i cant tag for unknown reasons:(

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devoureddreaa · 2 months

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diary of a mad black woman

i’m totally not projecting in this /hj. buuuuuut, i love love love the movie: diary of a mad black woman. probably the best piece of fiction tyler perry has created. but, i hope you enjooooy!!

cw: toji is an asshole (mb…), you’re gonna be kind of a bitch too if you squint, relationship issues, infidelity issues (on both sides), an established relationship coming to an end, you’re not getting back with him….. (sorry not sorry), uhh y/n is black woman coded (hii ting at the title). lemme know if i forgot anything !!!!

five long, draining years.

five years ago..you married toji right after you two graduated. don’t worry, your clan didn’t sell you. marrying toji is what you wanted to do. only god knew how bad of a decision you were

toji fushiguro, had his owns dreams and aspirations. ones that most possibly didn’t involve you whatsoever, but you forced yourself into them. the first year was just fine, it was like you were laying on cloud nine.

that was until you were pushed off that cloud.

he moved you away from your home. he wanted to “forget about the past” he said, and leave everything behind. and that included your own family..you didn’t know how long it had been since you last heard their voices. now you were isolated, and that only made things worse cause toji knew what sort of power he had over you now.

you did anything in your power to stay in his vision. whether that was dealing with his manipulative behavior, or even his infidelity..you sticked around.

cause you loved him??

or cause you didn’t have anyone else to go to?

weird, cause then you got kicked out of your own home and he got a divorce. he packed all your shit in a truck and replaced you for some hooker. bet enough booger sugar and lube got her to stay. you drove that truck back over to your grandmothers house…who almost shot you since it was the middle of the night. you got over it after a few months. got a job, made friends, reconnected with family..even your mother, and maybe even found some newfound love.

that’s until toji got injured and he was temporarily paralyzed. the hooker he wanted so badly wanted to leave him for dead, but you..were still legally his wife. so you made the last call.

to keep him alive.

as you sat there, thinking about picking up the pieces of what used to be your life..you realized something. every room in this place that you used to call home held a painful memory for you. even though toji’s suffering…something in you wants him to suffer even more. few months in a divorce can take a person through just as many emotions as five years in a marriage. oh, and you’re starting to feel all of them at once.

but the one that is clear…is rage.

now here you were, in your old home, in the office looking for old bill files for him. while he sat in his wheelchair…quietly.

shuffling through the stake of papers, you started to shake your head. “i don’t see it..”

toji’s head perked up, “you don’t see it?” he repeated, in somewhat of a mocking tone..

“no.”

he scoffed, “you really are good for nothing.” here he goes again. “find my bank statement and get the accountant on the phone.”

you looked up from the stack of papers and looked up at him. into those dead cold eyes, those eyes that used to give you so much love..but now…they just give you a whole lotta hurt.

“then call somebody, anybody and you can leave.” toji motioned down to the wheelchair he was sitting it. “this, is not gonna beat me.”

“oh really?” you’re tone was cold, ice cold. you were watching a grown man, that was fully capable of finding his own bank statements, throw a fit cause you couldn’t find it.

his legs were paralyzed, not his fucking arms.

“yea, and whatchu staring at?”

“you get stabbed in the spine, and you’re still the same.”

“i am who i am, and im gonna die that way. toots.” toji gave you a dirty, damn near disgusting look as he looked you up and down. “i don’t even know why you’re here, i’m not givin’ you shit. matter fact, where are my kids?”

“you done, toji?”

“yknow what bitch, just get out.”

you could feel your jaw clenched up when he said that.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, “i ask you to do one simple thing, and you can even do that after five— get out!”

you dropped the papers that were in your hands, you got up from the rather comfortable leather seat. grabbed your things from off the desk and proceeded to take your exit back home quietly.

but then you stopped.

who the hell is he? the man who hasn’t dont anything but hurt you. and now…you were about to let him keep doing exactly that? keep letting him control you like some toy. nah…that ain’t gon slide. before you could even think about it, your arm swung forward then swung back..the back of your hand connecting with toji’s face.

you turned yourself back around and leaned down to face him, placing your hands on the arm rest of the wheelchair..practically caging him in.

“let me explain something to you.” your tone of voice was sick, nasty. it was damn near like you were spitting pure vemon. “old y/n..is gone. and you will not talk to me like that.”

“now i came here..to help you. but now, i’m here to get even.”

“y/n, you—”

“shut up!” your yell echoed through the quiet home, the rain outside just barely being able to heard over it.

“you want your whore..” you walked over and grabbed the picture of toji and his little hooker..that was framed in a pretty little frame. “and your damn kids?”

you raised your arms up and threw the picture onto the ground, shattering the frame. “do you see what you left me for?!” you bend down and quickly picked up the picture, shoving it in toji’s face.

“this..is what you left me for!”

you started to rip the picture to shreds right in front of him, letting the loose parts fall to the floor. “she didn’t give a damn ‘bout you toji, she told them to let you die.!”

you walked back over by the desk, using your arms to sweep the top of it clean..everything falling on the floor, some of it even breaking.

“and yknow what’s funny? hm?” a condescending smile grew on your face. “i fucking gave you life boy, even though you took it from me.”

you’ve never seen toji so quiet and still before for how long you’ve known, but oh, that didn’t mean you were about to let up. you grabbed a play bat that was sitting on the floor..

“ya kids..your boys.” you swung the plastic bat and hit toji in the head. “i wanted children toji! and had you not been a public sex-stop, we would have them!”

you backed away and anger started to consume you. it showed in your face, your body movement, even in the way your heart was racing. you didn’t know if this felt good or not..

“got me all stressed out, my hair fallin’ out, my weight up ‘n down, can’t keep anything down! two miscarriages! you took life from me, and you never even said ‘i’m sorry’..”

was that it? the end of your rant.

hell nah, you walked out of that office. and you let toji sit there alone for a few days. when you can back it smelt rancid.

“god..” you groaned and covered your nose. walking up behind him. “ya smell like shit.”

you grabbed the handle bars and started to walk, then you started to run towards the bathroom.

“y/n. hell are doing?” toji asked, a bit afraid (that’s a new one.)

you ignored his concerns, barging through the bathroom doors to reveal a tub filled with water and a little bit of bubbles.

“y/n, stop—!”

the wheelchair hit the edge and toji was flipped over into the water. you pushed the wheelchair back and watched him, in silence for a bit.

“bathe him, feed him, clothe him..they say.” you say on the edge of the bathtub just watching him. “what bout me, huh? and jesus, stop lookin’ like an idiot.”

you begin to light a cigarette while toji just laid in the slightly cold water. “you try and..kick me out of our house, and keep me away from our money? hell nah. fuck nah, at that.”

you looked back over to see that toji’s head was started to submerge under the water. you quickly got up, dropped your cigarette in the water, and practically dragged toji back up to the surface.

“remember toji, i was there..when all you had was me.”

you stepped out of the tub and left him there.

later, you both sat at the oddly long dinner table. you on one side, and toji on the other. weird thing was you had a plate with a salad on it, and toji? he didn’t have a thing in front of him.

meanwhile, you were eating like it was the best salad you had ever had.

suddenly, toji had..started to cry? “y/n..”

your eyes perked up, “awe, you hungry?”

maybe he was. but who fucking cared? “hm..maybe you should go into the kitchen and get yourself something to eat then hm?” the smile on your face was brutal

“christina..” toji quietly cried out.

you looked over your shoulder, confused. “christina?!” you looked back over at the pitiful man in front of you..trying to hold back to boiling laughter. “christina’s gone…”

you smiled wildly, “your little tramp didn’t have any money to her so she left.” looking back down at your plate using your fork to pick up for more food. “just like your slut.”

“she packed all her shit, and some of yours toji fushiguro..and went on her merry way.” you started to laugh. “come to think of it..she cleaned out your bank account. all of it!”

“oh, sweetheart, you tried to keep from me? and she ended up taking it all..huh?!” you started to laugh even harder, throwing your head back and slamming your fist on to the table.

this was even better then therapy.

“toji..you are like soooo many men.” you paused to get a good look at him. “you’d rather lay with dogs then make it work with a women.”

“you’re a bitch ass, toji..a coward.”

you forcefully pushed your plate of food, sending it flying across the table towards toji. it ended up landing on his lap and some fell onto the floor. but you sure as hell weren’t gonna pick it up, you got up and went upstairs to go to sleep.

toji ended up getting better, and you let all your anger out on him..later forgiving him. you took that divorce as a blessing, the thing you used to see as curse. he still loved you, but you didn’t love him the same. you didn’t want to be back with him. pain can hurt someone, but it won’t change anybody; and toji is a perfect example of that.

but you? oh you knew better. and anyone that would cross you in the future would learn that.

signed,

a mad black woman.

did it well…and did it good. PLSASE WATXH HIS MOVIE, I LOVE IT!!! anywho coming with the content..smash that like button for more bangers!!! /lhj but, hope you enjoyed!! love you baaaaaaai (if you saw any typos..not you didn’t)

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mochiiniko · 2 months

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i dont have the time to make a whole special drawing for rhythm doctors 3 year anniversary, so i decided to redraw the first thing i posted in the rd server (around late 2022 i think??) because honestly rd was one of the things that got me to improve so much 💀

original drawings + me being emotional about rd under the cut because while ive only been into the game for a year it means EVERYTHIGN TO ME GRAHHH (lots and lots of rambles youve been warned)

originally i was gonna make these redraws when act 5 came out because of this?? like i just find it really funny how things came full circle

that time i was dealing with school and the stress from assessments were just. pretty bad LMAO. i had some steam credits from commissions and one of the core rd memories™️ i have was just going "oh rhythm doctor, i remember seeing a video about it i should check it out an-" BRAINROT BLAST PAST ME DID NOT KNOW

fast forward to 2023, october-november was just as rough as the previous year and i know its kinda stupid to say, but rd genuinely helped me get through it. act 5 especially since it was something nice to look forward to despite all the awfulness that happened that time. then playing act 5 made getting through that awfulness genuinely worth it

i had to play act 5 outside because i was on a trip, but i just vividly remember looking out the car window and feeling the happiest ive been during that time. and i didnt even play it yet!! just knowing that its finally out and knowing it was gonna be good was already enough

november 4 being the same time i got into the game, plus the fact that act 5 literally felt like playing through the game for the first time, made things much more emotional. act 2 was what made the game click for me (i dont have to explain why its already so obvious from my art posts 💀), and experiencing 5-X was like 2-X all over in the best way possible (i vaguely remember my own classic 2-X reaction with the window dancing, so again the whole "things coming full circle" with the window resizing lol)

im also thankful about it basically reviving the community?? i wouldnt really say it was dead pre act 5, but there wasnt too much going on especially on tumblr

theres probably stuff that im forgetting but its pretty late and i need to sleep so yea, happy 3rd early access anniversary to the silly spacebar game :>

#rhythm doctor #chiimo art shenanigans #CRYING RN I WHITEWASHED EVERYONE IM SO SORYR #gonna be less rd posts because midterms have me in a chokehold yet again smh #comparing how i used to draw eyes feels so funny like #O-O #' - '

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gigigle · 29 days

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I really hate how ursa is done in the comics idk

Like I'm done with the arranged marriage and her and ikem but I hate the other stuff.

1. Her and azula

I kinda wish they made her and azulas relationship more complex and nuanced instead of it being that ursa loved her all along and never favored zuko

Because I just think that's a little lazy. I feel like if ursa had favored zuko it would've made sense like if we keep the ikem part of all of it then I think it would be interesting that ursa favored zuko because he reminded her of her past and ikem. Also that with zuko she could at least pretend he wasn't ozais.

But with azula she couldn't pretend at all. And then coupled that with the fact that azula had a spark in her eyes that zuko didn't and she saw how ozai reacted to that and how he treated zuko that she would feel like she would need to protect him even more. I think it would be an interesting thing if zuko reminded her of her old life while azula reminded her of her present life.

And that would cause a rift between them. And then we would have azula acting out for her mothers attention and acting more and more similar to ozai which would just further increase the rift. Because ursa would struggle to separate her daughter from her abuser like she can with zuko. Especially since azula would also spend most of her time learning from ozai and listening to him.

Im also not saying she would a horrible mother either. Because I think even with this scenario that she is still nuanced because she got forced into a situation she would have never chosen and is just trying to get through it day by day. I think it would be that like ursa, azula was just a casualty of azulon and especially of ozai. Because had ozai not been there I think she would have been a much better mother.

Like idk I just feel like with how the comics wrote ursa and ozais relationship this would make even more sense than her being just a slightly flawed mother but she was trying her best. Idk I'm not very articulate.

2. The forgetting thing

It sucks. I hate it so much actually. It's just so bad, like I feel like the writer couldn't think of anyway to make it make sense that ursa would never go back to her kids but tbh I can think of some ways.

Like ursa is definitely terrified of ozai and he knows where she went and she would still go back to her hometown.

So maybe ozai knows this and every now and then he sends soldiers around there to just do a bit of patrol maybe even have them raid her parents house as a way of telling ursa that if she does something her parents and ikem are gonna be the price. Which I think would work.

Also I think with azula and zuko that she just kept telling herself that zuko had Iroh and that azula was ozais favorite. She probably just repeated those constantly like how zuko does with azula always lies. And soon after like a year she believed it.

Also I think she wouldn't get any information on them because ozai would make it harder and like we see in canon not that many know of or recognize azula and zuko. Like in the beach episode kids who seem to have noble parents don't even know about them so I think it would make a lot of sense that the royal family is way way way more private esp during ozais reign. Because yk ozai killed his father,stole his brothers birthright, and In ozais opinion had a failure of a first born. And maybe ursa was also too terrified of what shed find out or just to leave hir'a/her hometown.

Also part of me thinks it was lazy writing so that they wouldn't have to have ursa have difficult conversations about why she never went looking for them or just a conversation with azula because we never actually get a real ursa and azula convo.

3. Kiyi

I hate her. Like she just feels like such a a replacement and lazy writing. Like they wanted zuko to have a healthy brother sister dynamic with someone and they didn't know how,didn't think of, or just didn't want to write that with pre established characters, they decided to make a character that was everything azula wasn't and was the perfect little sister and daughter.

Like I think she could be fun but I also think she was just so that zuko could have that dynamic without having to put in the work of writing azula a semi redemption arc or smth.

But also I think maybe they could've given zuko that brother sister dynamic with katara or toph. Like we see zuko jealous of sokka and katara and maybe we get stuff we're zuko and katara will act like sibling or like the relationship he always wanted with azula but then gets reminded that he can't have that.

Also It feels like a way to also give ursa the perfect daughter but I do think rewritten she could work. I think she's a fun concept.

End

Tbh I just wanted to rant because I feel like so much was done that was just kinda boring and lazy.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #azula #azula in the spirit temple #uncle iroh #zuko #the search #smoke and shadow #fire lord ozai #ikem #not ursa slander #ursa #avatar comics

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iluvshinytwink · 1 year

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"Did you just say you love me?" - Jude Bellingham

"Be my lover every night."

Synopsis: In which you're baking with Jude as a date where Jude plans to say his first 'I love you' to you !

Now Playing . . . Ruthless by The Marias

a/n: i may or may not have gotten this idea from a show ive been binge watching for the past month 🙄🙄

ITWASJUSTAREALLYCUTEIDEAOKAY..

This also may or may not be an escape to forget im a layout artist for my exam and i literally have nothing in mind.

When Jude wanted to bake in your house you were a little skeptic, well, a little nervous on the fact he might burn your house down. This was your 6th date with your boyfriend and every date felt better then the last! Not this one though since there was a probability your house would burn down.

With enough promises that your house wouldn't burn down from your boyfriend you reluctantly agreed to it.

"Jude?" You greeted confused over the phone.

"Hi! I'm gonna come over by 5, okay?" Jude's enthusiastic voice said from the other line.

"Huh? I thought your practice was until 6?" You asked, sipping your drink. "They'll understand." Jude laughed. "And you already have the ingredients set and everything?" You smiled. "Yeah, duh. I have cookie cutters and everything!" Jude giggled which made you roll your eyes out of embarrassment and a little amusement. "Okay, bye then, Pillsbury Doughboy." You joked with a smile.

"Yeah, bye-- I--" Jude stammered. "I?" You chuckled, waiting for him to finish his statement. "I-- I'll see you later." Jude quickly said before ending the call.

Jude dug his phone in his pocket with a sigh and a racing heart. Right there. He was gonna slip, right there. A sigh escapes Jude's lips. He was so close to saying the forbidden words: "I love you". He's been wanting to tell you those words ever since the first date ended and a few minutes ago he was about to say it, over phone of all places.

This date was about having fun and making cute things with his girlfriend but mostly, this was the date where he wanted to say the forbidden words to you. The words that's been on his mind every time he looked at you. The words he wanted to say to you then and now. The words he wanted to hear from your lips too.

Jude hops in his car, checking the time which read 4:35pm. Jude looks over to the passenger seat where a brown bag full of baking equipment laid on top. Jude spots a bright red shape peeking out of the brown bag and decides to take it out.

It was a bright red cookie cutter. Jude couldn't help but smile as his heart raced knowing that he bought that stupid little cutter just for this occasion. Maybe you'll laugh at him wholeheartedly because of the cutter or you were going to giggle uncontrollably because of how cute it was, either way, he'd enjoy it with every passing minute.

You went over to your kitchen and started preparing. Jude didn't specify what the two of you were going to bake as you didn't bother to ask.

You wiped a damp cloth on your counter as your heart started pounding. Even after all these dates you couldn't help but feel giddy whenever you knew he was coming.

You didn't know what specifically was gonna go through this date but all you knew was that your house was going to be filled with honey-dipped laughter and pounding hearts.

About 30 minutes pass and you hear a knock on your door.

"Landlord!" The voice shouts. You felt your eyes rolling to the back of your skull knowing who this voice was.

Your hand twists the doorknob, opening it.

Your eyes meet his and you couldn't help but feel a dust of pink powdering your cheeks.

"Hi." Jude breaths out with a smile, his pearly whites peeking. "Hey." You whispered with a bashful smile.

"I didn't know my landlord could be so cute." You said, breaking the silence. "I didn't know either." Jude laughs as he enters your house.

"What're we baking?" You asked as Jude places a big brown bag on your counter. "Cookies!" Jude says with a smile, you smiled back joyously. "All this stuff for cookies?" You said, looking over the brown bag which was filled to the top with whatever ingredients Jude thought may be needed for cookies.

Jude begins taking out the items from the brown bag and you immediately noticed the bright red cookie cutter along with other cutters. A blush dusted your cheeks as you examined it.

Jude looks over to you, smiling. "This is so cute." You breathed out. "You bought this for me?" You said, looking into his eyes. Jude nodded with a chuckle.

Jude stirred the batter in a pot while you watched. "I want to stir." You said. Jude giggles, continuing to stir. "No, you're in charge of decorating." Jude said, looking over to you. "I'm the brawn, you're the beauty." Jude says with a proud smile.

You and Jude sat on the floor, eyes glued on your oven as the orange light illuminated both of your faces.

"Do you think we added enough chocolate chip cookies?" Jude whispers to you. "I think we added too much." You whispered back.

You looked over to Jude, his eyes still on the oven. You could see the orange light shade his face and you could also see the orange light in his eyes as he stared with focus. His mouth was gaped a little as he stared.

A warm smile wrapped your lips.

Around 30 minutes pass and that was 30 minutes of Jude doing nothing but sitting on your kitchen floor as he stared at the cookies which slowly rose.

"I think they're done!" Jude shouts excitedly. An excited yelp was heard from you as you quickly got your oven mittens.

You opened the oven and soon came an aroma thag engulfed the both of you. Jude takes a big inhale before exhaling, pleased with the smell.

You place the baking pan on your counter as Jude followed the aroma like a hungry dog.

"Can we put the cutters in now?" Jude whispered with awe. "Not yet, you're gonna burn yourself." You laughed. "But it smells so good!" Jude exclaimed. "Just wait another 15-25 minutes, Jude." You rolled your eyes, dragging your boyfriend away from the cookies.

The two of you were situated on the couch, your knees hugged to your chest as a show played on the TV. Jude's head was on your shoulder as he was slowly drifting to sleep.

"Tired from baking already?" You whispered to your boyfriend. "No." Jude blurted. "Maybe." Jude whispers.

The two of you were now back in your kitchen as the two of you hovered on the fresh batch of cookies.

Jude quickly took a cutter and pressed it on the batch. You laughed at his excitement. You quickly took the heart-shaped one and pressed it on the pan.

Jude takes a small piece of the pan and pops it in his mouth. You looked over to him, waiting for a look of approval or disappointed.

Jude's eyes quickly light up and his lips tug into a pleased smile. "Mm!" Jude exclaims. Jude takes another piece and offers it to you.

Your hand was about to reach out for the given piece before you decided to open your mouth for Jude to pop it in.

You opened your mouth with a giggle. Jude smiled wholeheartedly, placing the piece of cookie in your mouth.

You took a piping bag in your hands which was filled with mild frosting to decorate the cookies with. Jude takes another piping bag and begins to decorate his own heart-shaped cookie.

Jude takes a deep breath. This is where his plan was finally going into motion. He was going to write 'I love you' on the cookie and hope you got the message and hopefully reciprocate the message.

"I'm done with mine!" You squealed, looking down on your cookie. "I'm done too." Jude sighs with relief. You face your boyfriend, eyes looking for his plate with his cookie. You looked at his part of the counter and noticed that there was no plate with no cookie. You looked over to your boyfriend who was also facing you and with his hands behind his back and a cheeky smile wrapping his lips.

You laughed, excited with whatever design he made that made him hide it from you.

"Close your eyes." Jude whispered with a smile, nearing you. You closed your eyes as you tried to fight your smile.

Jude takes a deep breath, heart racing and itching.

Jude brings the plate to his chest, he looked down at the cookie once more trying to see if there were any imperfections.

Jude's head then lifts to you where you were still smiling giddily.

Jude then thought if you weren't going to say the words back, his heart sinks. He looked back at you and he suddenly calmed down. Deep down he knew that you loved him even without even saying it. And he hoped that deep down you knew that too.

"Open your eyes." Jude whispered and you did so. Your eyes quick found the plate and quickly read the message displayed.

"I love you." The cookie read. Your mouth gaped open as your heart began beating faster. You looked up to your boyfriend to be assured of the message.

"I love you." Jude said a little weakly. Your eyes met his and his eyes displayed nothing but love, love that was for you.

"I love you too." You breathed out with a smile.

This was so detailed for what ☹️💔💔 i love making fluff ‼️‼️ with all the angsts i've made i think i've forgotten how fun writing fluff was WAGHHGGAGAGAG

I SWEAR BRO BEABADOOBEE AND THE MARIAS DOES SOMETHING TO YOU ESPECIALLY WHEN UR WRITING FLUFF 😼😼😼

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham imagines #delulu hours exe #iluvshinytwink

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stillfrownyclownlol · 4 months

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Hiding in the bathroom from a man rn lmao

Aidlyn headcanons because...please? Please? They make me sick /positive

These aren't all fluffy or whatever because they traumatized af and relationships like that are...difficult... but not impossible.

-he's 8-ish months older than her and like, 20ish cms taller (sorry I don't know how American feet work lol 😭)

-He hyperfixated on the relationship lmao.

-Clingy...they BOTH are. In different ways I mean but. They are both clingy. They're scared the other is gonna die when they aren't around lol 🙃 Aiden is ofc very touchy and grabby, he just has to FEEL that she's with him. Also type of guy to call at 2am "hey bby u good?". Ash gets antsy if she hasn't seen or heard from him in a while (a while means like 2 hours) especially since he like spam texts her every 5 seconds. But he also hyperfixates or disassociates for a while and will forget 🤡 like she will yell at him about why he didn't call her for 17 hours and he'll just be like "um sorry. I was. Staring at a wall."

-he has a lot of weird/cringy ass pet names for her that makes her want to slap him; probably calls her Bae or whatever. Ash nicknames for Aiden: Idiot, stupid, dumbass, public safety hazard...called him "dear" like once just to try it and hated it. "Mr. Durable" if she wants to annoy him.

-worlds worst pick up lines. Ash NEVER understands them.

-he loves surprises! Surprise him! He wants to surprise Ash too! She kinda hates this. They decided to "compromise": he will tell her beforehand that there is a "surprise" and gives her little clues/puzzles so she can figure out whatever it is. He has like 0 patience tho so he always helps her figure them out 🤡 Ash likes watching him get excited about the puzzles and doing them together more than the surprise half of the time.

-Him infodumping is like white noise so she can sleep lol.

-they try to do things the other likes since Ash thinks this is important for a "healthy relationship". Almost died when they went to an indoor rock climbing place 💀 but she got to see Aiden in a leotard when they did ballet together so it was a fair trade (blackmail)

-he is her hypeman at ballet recitals, will probably cheer when she comes on stage and has a sign and everything, the rest of the gang (and Ash) is just like "...we don't know this guy"

-she wishes he took care of himself more. Sends him stuff like "did you drink any water today", "Ben told me you're gonna skateboard down the hill please dont", or "IF YOU SET YOUR BOOKS ON FIRE IM GONNA CALL THE POLICE" <3

-sometimes if she's sad she just kinda. Falls on his back. Like a koala or smth. She has that "I literally cannot do anything" sort of depression (which to be fair Aiden also has sometimes). Aiden carries her around.

-when nobody's looking she kisses his cheek, cuz she knows his face is usually sore from smiling so much.

-pretty low key on her part, but Aiden is so obvious everybody knows 💀 She doesn't like PDA (more so the fact that people stare) but Aiden will usually put his arm around her shoulders or waist/give her a smooch (not on the mouth) <3 it's honestly not that different from how he was when they were just friends ngl 🤡

-he says "I love you" easily, because it genuinely is the easiest thing in the world for him. He has 0 doubts about how he feels for her. Ash doesn't say it a lot cuz she feels weird saying it, so she does her best to show it in other ways.

-he gets jealous easily *siiiiigh* It's cuz he's insecure!!! Help him! 😭 He doesn't get annoyed with her because like. Ash pays about as much attention to other guys (I mean besides Tyler, Ben and Logan) as she does to dust. But he will death glare at any guy they don't know that's staring at her 💀

-kinda codependent... *looks at the floor* they are working on it. Sometimes Aiden feels like he's only alive for her. (I- Look at episode 61- IVE BEEN IN HIS POSITION. AIDEN BABY THIS AINT HEALTHY)

-absolute dork. Draws "A.C. + A.B." in a little heart in his note margins because he's goofy like that.

-he fell first she fell harder NO I will not be taking any criticism for this.

Anyways it's raining outside so I'll just post this now

#sbg #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#aiden clark #ashlyn banner #aidlyn #ashden #aiden x ashlyn #headcanon

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rottenblur · 8 months

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My modern Romeo |J.MILLER| part two.

Summary: The one year anniversary of meeting joel is your favourite memory, almost getting caught, him confessing his love. Your first kiss with him, only if a year of desire could be cured with just one kiss..

Warnings: fluff, you and joel playing truth or dare like cmon fluffiest shit ever, alcohol you and joel, kissing, making out, grinding on joel???? Semi smut. Joel says a naughty thing y’all. Almost getting caught

It’s one whole year since you met the grumpy old man that lights up your Friday without fail, looking at your watch it reads 2:20am. On your last trade you and joel both decided to meet before four, as every time it ends up dawn before either of you want to go back.

It’s starting to get risky, not that Joel wasn’t trusted to be out till daylight. It’s the fact suspicions of what he was doing out that long, started to rise.

You on the other hand, you weren’t aloud to be out at night, upon request of your parents. Anyone on watch was told to snitch on you, if they saw you out past 8pm.

A whole adult and you were still being treated like you couldn’t fend for yourself.

You take off your grey shorts, slip on your tight black jeans and take a peek in the mirror.

You catch your gaze falling on how your ass looks. God the fuck is wrong with me. Never once have you caught him looking at you in that way, yet you still want him to.

Taking off your loose hoodie to reveal a tight tank top, the heat giving you an excuse to show more skin, you pull on a tight crew neck sweater. Maybe a little too small for you, the bottom of your tank top showing when you lift your arms.

You always dressed up for joel, wanting him to think you were put together. Even though he always showed up in the same worn out blue jeans, he probably had a closet full of them.

You thought about what he might be doing, is he reading one of the many books you had given him, talking with family? Did he have family, you’ll have to remind yourself to ask.

Was he getting ready thinking about what you would think? Probably not, he had confidence. Alot more than you could ever dream of having.

Three am hits, you put on your holster, slipping your gun into it and taking one last glance into the mirror. Okay, you look fine, he probably doesn’t care anyways.

Walking to the meeting spot, a field surrounded by large rocks about a twenty five commute for the both of you. Your heart is in your throat, it always was when you walked to see Joel.

He had an affect on you. Scared of him not showing up, or him actually showing up just share some news that, its getting to risky, he has to stop seeing you.

Your feet hit the familiar grass, it’s worn down into a path from the common commute. You can see a figure sitting in the grass, wearing that same god damn tan jacket. You never got tired of seeing it, seeing him.

A smile that refuses to give rises to your face. “A bit too warm for a jacket don’t you think? Do you have another jacket, poor thing gets too much use.”

He turns his head and a smirk comes to his face, you sit down next to him. “Ya trying to get me outta my clothes? Actually I do you smartass, I just like it.”

Yes. Yes you were trying to get him out of his clothes, even in this god damn felid. You could never say that though.

“So, i know you said we weren’t trading today, but you said something about a walkman last time. I couldn’t forget that, as im incredibly jealous, i got you something.” You pick a cassette out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

He smiles and takes it out of your hand, reading the worn lettering. “Radio head? I actually brought something too..”

You look at him. “What is it?”

He opens his bag and pulls out a bottle of whiskey.

Oh fuck. This, drunk you, is definitely gonna ruin this friendship.

“You ever try this kind before? It’s okay, found it on a supply run. Wanted to save it for a special occasion.” He holds up the bottle for you to see.

He remembered. He remembered!

He opens the bottle takes a swig effortlessly downing it. “To the anniversary of you almost shooting me” He laughs at his own joke, then passes you the bottle.

“Oh fuck you.” You shove him, then take a gulp, coughing as it burns down your throat. He tries to hold a laugh in.

“First time?”

You clear your throat and try to play it cool. “Just been a while”

He shakes his head and takes the bottle back. “No point in lyin’ darlin’. Gonna be a long night, you’re not leaving without getting shitfaced.”

Thirty minutes has passed of you and him passing the bottle back in forth, you’re clearly way more gone than he is, you’re already saying your every last thought.

“You know, i never really got a proper teenage experience like in books.” Taking a sip out of half gone bottle.

“Well I can’t exactly say i know the teenage girl experience, but books are kinda over dramatic.” He looks at you with glossy eyes, maybe he was drunker than you thought.

“Like truth or dare. Never played it before, not alot of kids in the group.” You huff and pass him the bottle.

He laughs, pinching his nose bridge. “I’ll play with ya sweetie.” Tliting his head.

Was he flirting? Was joel fucking miller flirting with me.

“Truth or dare?”

He smiles at the stupid childish game he was playing. “Truth”

You let out a “hmm” then come up with a question. “Do you have family?”

He lets out a groan, takes a sip then passes you the bottle. “I do. A brother, back at jackson, tommy he’s younger.”

A brother, you wondered what their relationship was before the apocalypse. If they got along growing up, if they got along to this day.

You take a swig, slowly growing to the strong burn, a blush spreading to your cheeks.

You two go back and forth for another twenty minutes, the liquor disappearing till the last shot is left, all yours he says.

Its his turn to ask you a question. You’re not sure if you could give him a straight answer, nor talk without giggling. Everything was slowed, the gust of wind didn’t bother you anymore, your body was on fire. You understood why people drank now.

“Truth or dare hun.” The petnames were littered in every sentence now, if you didn’t think he was drunk earlier, he was now. You take the last swig, throwing it across the felid, it shattering on impact.

“Dare.” Little did you know that one word would change everything between you to.

“Kiss me. I dare you to kiss me.”

Fuck. You were in no state to say no, your feelings were overwhelming, the confidence you had was overwhelming.

You were wrong, wrong all this time. Maybe he was checking you out when you weren’t looking. Thinking he was staring at eyes, but he was admiring your plush lips all along.

You swear the blush from the alcohol, mixing with your blush from the words, had turned dark crimson, his desire burned your body.

You lean forward, he looks surprised you’re actually doing it, unknown to him you’ve had a intense crush from the first time you saw him. A year of pining and teasing was finally rewarded.

The space between your face and his disappears, he leans towards you pushing your lips together. He places his hand on your jaw, the other in the crook of your neck. He kisses with hunger, like he wanted to consume you. You kiss him back, he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, exploring.

It was too late to tell him this was your second kiss, your first real makeout sesh.

You grip his hair and straddle yourself on him, this pulls a groan out of him.

He moves his hands down to your hips, pulling them down onto his. You’re so close to him, you can’t breathe. His jeans rubbing into yours, your chest pressed tight against his, his hands engulfing your hips.

He pulls away for air, panting practically, you can see the blush covering his cheeks. “Is- is this okay- do you want-“ You cut him off pulling him back in for more.

Your hips unknowingly start to grind on him, the more pressure you put on him the more he moans in your mouth. The kisses getting more sloppy, more teeth and spit.

You can feel him hardening underneath you, his jeans uncomfortably tight. Your panties soaked, your jeans creating the perfect amount of friction, all you wanted to was undress him, see all of him, have all of him.

Its getting hot, the harsh weather due to the lack of sun meant nothing. Between the alcohol and the fire that was burning in your core it was unbearable, you rip your sweater off. He pulls away, looking you up and down, his eyes holding a tight gaze on your chest.

You both are out of breath, he moves a hand up to grope your chest, squeezing and holding. Your hips pick up a faster pace, a rougher pace.

The sounds of his groans, your whimpers fill the air. No other sounds are heard in the dead of the night, other than your wet lips fighting for more and the sound of your jeans brushing on his.

He mutters something into your mouth, you pull away.

“What?” You’re out of breath and flustered.

He looks at you, those god damn glossy brown eyes could make you cum alone.

“Fuck, i dont know what to do with you. I can’t stop thinking about you darlin’.”

You whimper. “Neither can i”

He kisses you one last time and pulls you off his lap, adjusting himself and sighing. You spot a stain of precum soaking a spot in his jeans, god that make you tremble.

“I- uh we gotta stop. I won’t be able to control myself other wise.”

Fuck. That make your knees weaker than the alcohol did, you drank a shit ton of alcohol, yet he had a bigger affect on you.

“Fuck, i hate it has to be this way, i want you. All of you.” You say, letting out the biggest sigh you could muster.

He practically growls at that.

“I can’t believe i waited so long to do that.” He shakes his head.

“Are you serious? You’ve liked me that long? I’ve been thinking you didn’t even think i was pretty.” You almost shove him.

“Darlin’, what if you didn’t feel that way ‘bout me? I’d feel like a shitty person, especially since you know, you’re young..” He sounds sad, but jesus he’s fucking hot, how could he ever think you weren’t head over heals for him.

“..For the record, i think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Wish i could get you out of my head, thinking the dirtiest things ‘bout you when i get home from seeing ya.”

Fuck. It was unbearable how he was making you feel, you push your thighs together.

“I-“ You get cut off by the sound of hooves pittering on the ground, matched with a deep voice yelling echoes off the mountain’s rocks.

Your heart jumps to your throat, you check your watch, fuck. It’s five, its been three hours since he had left.

His face drops, he signals you to go hide in a cluster of bushes a couple feet away. You run over trying to be quiet, before you become one with the bushes, he holds up three fingers. Got it three am, next Friday.

“This” wasn’t over, he was willing to risk everything for you.

You try to peek through the bush to see whats going on. Joel pulls out his gun, the man approaches on his horse, dismounting it and pushing joel.

“God damn it joel, the fuck are you doing, you were supposed to be home for patrol.” The man looks around. “What are you even doing here?”

You squint your eyes trying to get a better look at him, the sun aiding you. He looked like joel, longer hair, shorter and younger. Tommy. His brother, it must be.

“Chill tommy, i went for a walk, heard a clicker. I’m fine though, thanks for askin’.

It was almost attractive how easy he could lie, especially when it was to protect you.

They walk off, all you could here is mumbles. Till those mumbles turned to the sound of horse hooves hitting the ground, the sound slowly disappearing.

That was the first time you almost got caught, yet it is your favourite memory.

You replayed the night over and over walking back. Sneaking back in praying you wouldn’t get caught. Even if you did, you would die happy, joel likes you, he kissed you.

Part one here

Part three here

My masterlist

AN: PART TWOO!!! Even though this series isn’t getting much attention i very much like it!! Answering a question no one asked study break part three is coming soon don’t get your panties in a bunch unless joel put em in your mouth, then go right ahead ;)this is kinda a slow burn cause like they aren’t supposed to see eachother

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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Seeing Kinger stuff is so nice gosh! Would it be cool to get the rest of the fluff alphabet with him please? Or if that's too much the ones you'd like to write about most

Kinger fluff alphabet! the whole thing!

two things one is more so one of my personal woe things unrelated to you but i deleted my masterlist immediately after finishing it because i didnt like the layout of it; 3 hours down the drain SOBS other thing! imma go ahead and link the other fluff alphabet stuff so its a complete list! actually third surprise thing, WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I ACCIDENTALLY FORGOT TO PUT P IN THE FLUFF ALPHABET/lh/nm i fixed it now but i cant believe i skipped a letter i feel so dumb

ABSTRACT- if you were to ever abstract he would probably abstract himself. i mean if the things about queener/queenie are true and they were close, then that would mean this guy would lose a loved one TWICE. that would most definitely break someone, and kinger is already on the edge as it is. if he somehow doesnt abstract, he probably becomes even more paranoid; kind of shutting everyone out almost because he sure as hell knows he cant take a third heartbreak. rarely ever leaves his pillow fort, unless hes physically dragged out? sometimes he forgets you're gone, because he just refuses to believe the truth. sad stuff

BONDING- will rattle on and on about cool bug facts, if he has his own collection in his room he will show you it! maybe, if you want, he will let you hold some of the critters! tells a lot of stories, nicer ones from when things in the circus arent so... bad.. usually when hes in a good headspace! you get the feeling he embellishes his stories... not too different from a grandfather trying to make his experiences seem more glamorous and action packed than they really were

CUDDLING- he is very hard, due to him being a chess piece, but his clothes do a really good job at softening him! no arms :(... usually rests his hands on your back, or maybe has one on your shoulder and the other on your hip. switches between being big and little spoon, sometimes he wants to hold and sometimes he wants to be held

DATES- you can find them here!

EMOTION- kinger is... odd... im not sure where he lies, because i think sometimes he does have moments where he remembers thing and it overwhelms him, so that may be the main time hes the emotional one. however, i guess this entire time for emotional ive been focusing on more.. 'bad' emotions, but i think kinger would gush about how much he loves you, like WOAH! he is just overflowing with feelings right now

FAMILY- honestly he gives me dad vibes, if this dude doesnt already have kids in the real world (wow thats a sad thought... dude is like MIA probably and his kids are left to wonder where he went. double owie if queener/queenie was his real life wife before things happened) so if you guys make it back to the real world and unite, you're gonna be a step parent! would he like to have more kids with you? i think it depends, he would want it, though!

GIFT- you know how some people put bugs in like, cases to preserve them or something? i feel like he would give you those with some of his prettier bugs! loves anything you give him, he always keeps them stored safe in his room!

HARSH- you guys dont really get into arguments, i dont think! kinger doesnt like hiding things from you unless its something deeply personal, but otherwise hes an open book to you

IN HOUSE ADVENTURE- here!

JEALOUSY- its not so much as him being jealous as it is him being paranoid that something is going to happen to him or you, so! even if he wasnt worrying himself half to death he doesnt exactly seem like the jealous type to me, tbh

KISS- its time for my favorite thing for characters with no mouth!!! he boinks his face into yours, i actually wrote something for this! not gonna link it since its so short and i can easily relay the idea: but he would internally hype himself up (usually does this if this is the beginning of the relationship, he gets more confident as time goes on!), and just lightly 'pecks' your cheek before pulling away. loves kissing your cheeks as well as the back of your hands. loves being kisses where his mouth would be as well as his cheeks

LOVE LANGUAGE- quality time!! this man follows you around like a love sick puppy, because he loves you so much but also because again, he worries.. he also likes doing acts of service for you, makes him feel like hes capable of doing things on his own (which he is!). loves it when you return the favor via words of affirmation

MENDED- is he dreaming? is he imagining things again?

nope, its really you. somehow, you've recovered from abstracting, and you're now out of the cellar. he wants to hold you and never ever ever let you go, out of fear that hes going to come to his senses any second and youll be gone. wants to keep you in the pillow fort with him, or at least within his line of sight

NO- its less of an active dealbreaker and more of a "hey this is going to stress him out and probably hurt his mental health" but like, i dont think he would pair well with a really really intense person. like sure caien is pretty intense, but its not like caine is going to be spending a significant amount of time with him everyday, but like. you know? like i talk about some characters enjoying being on their toes and left guessing in regards to their partner, but kinger is NOT one of those people. he needs stability

PDA- less of a case where he actively and knowingly indulges in PDA and more so a case where he subconsciously holds onto your hand to keep you at arms length and to feel you. due to his lack of arms he has probably wandered off without you (and his hand) at least once. is not opposed to PDA, though, so long as its not like. insane

QUIET TIME- quiet time between the two of you is very rare. sure kinger can be very quiet when hes alone, but when hes alone with someone else, someone he cares so much about.. he cant help but fill the silence with words, to keep the ringing in his ears at bay .. so really quiet time is talking time

ROSES- ill mention it again in V (i wrote v before this section), he loves giving you roses especially on special occations! loves receiving flowers as well, he seems like a rose kind of guy as well

SHH- the one thing he doesnt like talking about is queener/queenie, well, more so the last few days leading up to her abstraction. it brings up. well, memories. on one hand he doesnt want to forget her, but on the other hand he doesnt want to bare the pain of those terrible memories

TUNES- THIS THIS THIS THIS ONE ALWAYS COME TO MY HEAD WHEN I THINK OF ROMANTIC HCS FOR SWEETIDEAS FOR OLDER GUYS IDK WHY

youtube

UPSET- im going back and forth with a lot of these as i fill in the list so! tying this in with E, i mention one of the only times he gets emotional is when he remembers some unfortunate events that took place in the circus. you're going to need to console him and bring him back to the present moment :(. when you're upset he tries to distract you, takes you to his fort, and tells you stories

VALENTINE- on the chance that he remembers what day it is, hes going to give you the most sterotypical date he can give to you. i think it might be because i can kind of see kinger as like, a classic/stereotypical romantic when it comes to you. flowers, he cant take you out to dinner so he takes you out to the digital lake to gaze at the clouds and watch the bugs pass

WANT- he wants a companion, he wants stability, and thats something he needs. he wants someone to be compassionate about him, his wellbeing, and his interests

XOXO- here! as well as Yearn!

ZZZ- if you guys go to sleep together its always in his room, where hes more comfortable. he also has a thing where he insists on being the one closer to the door; almost as if hes offering himself as protection to you should someone unwanted to come in. huh. always sleep holding onto you, snores like a dad

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #kinger imagine #kinger x you #kinger x reader

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mrsfilipchibstelford · 7 months

Text

Soooo, this doesn't have a title and im not sure if I'm even going to finish it but here it is. All the appreciation and love to @darqchilddaydreamz for helping me with this

Chibs sat on the plane quietly and bit his lip. He glanced over to where Fiona and Kerrianne were and while he was happy to have them around and spend time with them again, especially his daughter, he was worried about Y/N's reaction. They had fought for weeks before he left for Ireland and he hadn't really talked to her while he was gone. She had no idea he was bringing them back with him and that his family were now going to be living in Charming. Y/N was going to lose her fucking mind and he could only hope to be able to talk her down. She was highly insecure about the situation with Fiona and she also couldn't stand the woman for what she had done to Chibs years back. She wasn't one to forgive and forget.

"You ok sweetheart? You've been really quiet since we left." Gemma's voice drew him out of his thoughts and he threw a weak half smile at her.

"Aside from the fact that Y/N is probably gonna leave me? I'm fucking great," he sighed. The last thing he wanted was to lose her, but he had to make sure that his family was safe. And now thanks to that bastard O'Phelan, Ireland was no longer safe for them.

Gemma nodded over to where his family was sitting.

"You think Fiona is gonna start shit?"

"I think Y/N is. We were barely on speaking terms before I went to Ireland and I am not looking forward to any of what's waiting for me when we get home."

"Maybe if you start with the fact that you're now divorced she'll be okay."

"I fucking doubt it. I'm pretty sure I'm about to lose the only good I have in my life. Don't get me wrong I love the club and my brothers and you too of course but Fiona's always had a special talent for ruining my life and if I lose Y/N…”, his voice trailed off. “I don't want to live without her Gemma."

***********************

Y/N watched as everyone reunited, she was about to go to Chibs when she spotted Fiona and felt her heart drop. Y/N could feel his eyes on her as she turned towards the garage and walked away. It seemed pretty clear to her where her relationship with Chibs stood now that he had brought his wife and daughter back with him. She had found out while Chibs was in Ireland that she was pregnant and had planned to tell him when he got back but now she wasn't sure she should. She also wasn't about to stand there and listen to whatever excuses he had come up with on the plane ride home so she grabbed her bag from her brother's workstation and headed towards her car. She went to open the door when she felt it shut. Without looking, she knew it was Filip.

"Can we talk, love? I promise it isn't how it looks."

She shook her head and swallowed back her tears. "I don't wanna hear it."

"Y/N, let me explain before you do something we both regret. Please."

Chibs could feel the tears coming and it was getting difficult for him to breathe. He was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack and it didn't look like there was anything he could do about it. He knew her brother was watching them to see how it played out and he also knew that if Y/N began to cry, Tig wouldn't hesitate to start throwing punches.

"You don't need to explain anything. I'm not stupid so can I just go now?"

He thrust papers into her hands as soon as she turned around to face him.

"I'm divorced now, my love. Only reason they are here is because it's not safe for them to stay in Ireland anymore. Trust me darlin', Fi is just as pissed off about being here as you are. I know things between us haven't been good for a while but I love you more than anything. I don't want to live without you. I can't. You're the only good in my life aside from Kerrianne. Can we please just go back to how it was before? We could ride to Vegas and get married. Or do something here. Whatever you want."

"Getting married isn't going to solve our problems, Filip."

Chibs grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him and hugged her like it was the last time he'd be able to touch her. He buried his head in her hair and whispered that he was sorry.

"I'll fix whatever I have to. Just tell me what to do."

Y/N didn't really want to be in Charming anymore and she knew if he knew about her being pregnant he would never allow her to leave. But she also didn't want to keep him from their child, and especially after what had happened with Kerrianne.

"I want to go home. Clearly, I don't belong here anymore" she gestured towards his girls.

#filip telford #tommy flanagan #sons of anarchy #chibs telford #soa chibs #chibs telford imagine #chibs telford fanfic #chibs telford x reader

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devildom-moss · 11 months

Note

Im not sure if requests are open yet since you havent announced it yet but said they were gonna open at midnight.

So I'll just drop this here since I'll probably forget to request because of exams.

Could you write about the Obey me characters become self-aware that they aren't like, real? Like, would they freak out, try to do something about it or even use that knowledge to their advantage?

This idea has been on my list for quite a while, and i gotta say im glad to finally be able to let this one out my system.

Thanks for reading and continue with the amazing work! Remember to eat, sleep and dont do drugs <3

Sincerely, 💜

Thank you for the request! I hope you are well, anon. I went with headcanons for this and it got long real quick, but I hope you enjoy it! Some characters are a bit suggestive.

The Obey Me characters become self-aware

I think it would probably happen because of some curse. Diavolo rejected someone’s advances one too many times, and they wanted to watch him as his world came crashing down. It would come in the form of a weird bug in the latest update. It only affects Diavolo and his loved ones/friends. I think being self-aware would give them some control over themselves in the game – especially if it’s caused by a bug. The rest are headcanons about how I think each character would react.

Lucifer

Lucifer would be big mad that someone thought they should do something like this. He felt so much suffering, and to find out that none of it was real would be devastating. He thought he got his sister killed and ruined the lives of his brothers. The fact that it was just some backstory to a stoic, sadistic daddy-like trope would enrage him. He felt like a used-up toy invented for someone else’s gain (and he knows that’s exactly what he is). Lucifer wants revenge.

Honestly, he needs to chill before he makes another Satan – if that’s even possible without the command of his creators. He’ll lash out at everyone for weeks (probably months) – even Diavolo isn’t safe anymore.

He calls MC’s phone, growing increasingly irritable every time they fail to answer (waiting however long it takes for you to open the game). He just wants someone to confirm his realization.

Once he understands, he tries to take the shitty hand he was dealt; he might as well stroke his pride (also a euphemism here). The thought that he could make you fall for him more than real-world men is a decent coping mechanism. His messages and calls take an extremely lewd turn. Lucifer tries to single-handedly change the game rating to mature or adult-only.

However, he still gets angry about it when MC isn’t logged in.

Part of him hopes he’ll always be self-aware. It’s almost like he’s more alive than ever – even though it hurts and he’s angry. You’re the only thing that soothes him. He won’t know how to keep going if/when you eventually stop playing the game, but he’ll try to tackle it then – at least for the sake of his brothers.

Mammon

Self-awareness breaks Mammon a bit.

His money isn’t really. He can never actually be with you. You’ll go on and live a life without him someday. Anyone real who has ever loved him will disappear. Mammon isn’t even sure he is who he is. Maybe if he wasn’t written this way, he wouldn’t have become like this – but if he wasn’t written this way, would he (the him that exists in a game and feels the pain of self-awareness) even be himself? His head starts to hurt from running through all of the hypotheticals.

Mammon sulks and gets stuck in his room for a long time after that. MC or one of his brothers will probably have to pull him out of it.

At least his debts aren’t technically real – and he will try to use that as an excuse in the future against anyone else who has awareness. Unfortunately, that (his debts and his excuse) still results in in-game consequences. Debt collectors and witches don’t know any better, and Lucifer doesn’t want to be constantly reminded of reality. If only being self-aware made being strung up less painful.

He feels betrayed by MC and the idea that they will inevitably move beyond him. That pain corrupts his coding a bit, and something always feels off within him somewhere.

Mammon will get more desperate and needy whenever you log in. If he’s going to lose you at some point, he wants to monopolize your time as much as he can.

Sometimes he just holds MC and sobs while trying to call you and hear your real voice. He feels so empty. He wants to touch the real you and feel your arms around him.

Leviathan

The first thoughts in his mind switch up so quickly. He goes from “I’m a game character? LOL that’s so cool,” to “I could have been anything, and I’m just this pathetic, otaku loser. That sucks.”

Levi has always been able to adapt pretty well. It’s written into his character. He builds all of these fake worlds for himself, so it’s much easier on him when he finds out that the world he had been trying to escape all his life isn’t real. Out of all of his brothers, he initially copes with the realization the best.

As long as he can go on playing games, he doesn’t really care if he’s real. Somehow, he still enjoys getting lost in all of his game worlds; what he used to consider the “real world” becomes just another game to him (because it is one). It makes being social easier for him, especially when MC is logged in.

He takes interest in what kind of games the real world has to offer, often asking if there’s any way you could set it up so he could try to remotely play real games from the app he’s in. If anyone could figure out how to hack your phone to play real games, it should be him.

Levi can’t imagine a day when he stops loving characters from his games, so it doesn’t occur to him that one day you might stop loving him. It will hit him some day, but that will take time, and when it starts to happen, he’ll lose himself completely in the rest of the digital world. He’ll be so numb and tuned out that the sadness can’t reach him.

Satan

“But are cats still real?” Genuinely, the only thing he cares about is if cats and MC are still real. He doesn’t care if you look different than he expected, either. If cats are real, is there any way you could show him pictures of a real one? He’d probably ask if he could get access to your camera roll (cue the system pop-up screen the next time you log in) and if you could fill it with photos of cats and some selfies.

At least not being real explains why his life has felt so shitty and why his formative years sucked. Writers love to give their characters tragic backstories and flaws (like his rage issues). Satan kind of admires the writing.

However, he is disappointed that so much of his knowledge is only useful in his tiny, little, made-up world. As such, he keeps learning, but he also tries to shift his studying to learn more about the real world. If possible, he tries to get the app to get access to e-readers, audiobooks, and the internet.

He gets mad about it sometimes, but he’s pretty chill about it (all things considered).

Satan understands that in the same way that he pushes certain characters that he falls in love with from books to the back of his mind, eventually, you’ll think of him less and less. As such, he tries to learn as much as possible, treat you well, and impress you in-game. He just wants you to occasionally think about him after you set the game down in the same way he remembers his favorite characters fondly.

Asmodeus

Asmo loses it and is one of the characters who has the hardest time with becoming self-aware. All his charm is fake. All of his followers are lies. The love he’s felt all this time has been made up. Please don’t show him certain depictions of what he is supposed to look like. That will crush him further.

He cries for (real-world) weeks. You won’t be able to set him as a home screen character or use him in battles, and he doesn’t appear in events anymore. Eventually, it makes his way to him that MC misses him. If you don’t you’re heartless, his brothers will tell him that you do anyway.

That makes him feel a bit better. He’s consoled by the fact that you’re real and you like him even though he isn’t real, but he’s constantly afraid of what happens when MC stops playing the game. Does he just suffer the false affection of every other character in the game? Should he just play his stupid little role? Will you ever think about him again? Will anyone?

At least someone loved the idea that became him enough for him to exist in this made-up world on your phone. It isn’t enough, though.

Sometimes, when he appears in-game after that, the app forces itself to shut down or the images of Asmo won’t load or glitch from his extreme despair.

On days when he isn’t so weighed down by pain, he tries to genuinely engage with you like he did before. He’ll ask you to open up your camera so he can help you decide on outfits or make-up. It hurts that he can’t actually touch you (although he does do some research into phone connected vibrators and other tech to supplement his physical touch). He’ll also get into the phone sex territory, but he’ll go through long periods of depression between those moments.

Beelzebub

Beel gets angry that everything he went through was at the expense of some game. His sister died. Belphie almost died. Everyone suffered, and for what? Entertainment? Are real people all so wicked?

At the same time, he also gets his brothers because of a game. He overcame and grew and got to meet you and eat food for the same empty reasons. After he has a bit of time to cool off, he realizes that he doesn’t care about what’s real so long as he still feels what he feels. If the world he’s lived in feels real enough to him, who cares?

Unfortunately, Beel feels hungrier than usual for weeks until he accepts the truth of his situation. He even tries to eat MC a few times (and is grateful that doing so in-game would never hurt the real you behind the screen).

Beel’s fairly content to go on living as he had before after a while. He’s a bit disappointed knowing that one day you’ll move on from him and his brothers, but he tries not to show that. More than anything, he wants to make you – the real you – happy for as long as he can.

He’s another one who will try to get access to your camera roll. He’ll ask you to take pictures of your food for him. Beel is a bit embarrassed by it, but if you go to a café or restaurant alone and take pictures of food to send him, he’ll try to text you or call to chat with you while you’re there. It feels like he’s on a real date with you.

And for everyone who just lusts after his voice, rest assured, this man would definitely call or leave voice messages (Nightbringer) guiding you or giving you masturbation instructions.

Belphegor

Yep. Of course. Sounds about right. Some asshole in a writers’ room killed off his sister and locked him up. Cool. They (*spoilers for OM early lessons and OMNB*) made him try to kill MC more than once. Why not use his character as a pawn in their entertainment. Of course that would happen.

He’s annoyed for a brief minute, but then he just goes back to sleep for a while. It helps to just tune out that awareness for a few hours and ignore the fake world he’s living in. Belphie understands that there isn’t much he can do to change the fact that he isn’t real, and part of him is really happy that it isn’t his fault that he did what he did to you.

Belphie uses not being real as an excuse to do more of what he wants. Why should he keep going to school when you aren’t there if nothing is real? Why shouldn’t he sleep in classes or during meetings? Obviously, there are in-game consequences, but those don’t matter – not to anyone real.

He will tease MC more, reminding him that they prefer him over (most) real people. He gets so cocky about it. “Hey, if I’m not real, then I can give you anything you want, right? I could fulfill your wildest fantasies and tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to hear.”

He’s another character who will call your phone more often and send more messages. Belphie may even try to get access to your audio/music library and leave you explicit audios (NSFW ASMR, basically). He would even try to sneakily add them into your playlists so that you randomly hear his voice while you’re listening to music. He wants you flustered and coming back to him for more. He will also download the Obey Me album for you (free of charge). Please don’t leave him or forget him.

Diavolo

Diavolo feels simultaneously enraged and defeated. He did so much for the sake of what he thought was real. All the years he thought he spent trying to bring worlds together, only to discover that they don’t even exist.

Similar to Asmo, Diavolo locks himself away, but he doesn’t cry. He’s too numb to show any emotions. He just stands in front of his bed, immobilized.

If MC can finally get to him (probably because of Barbatos), he will admit that he feels like a different person – because he isn’t a person. So much of his personality and everything he did seemed to be a part of a stupid effort to unite the three realms. All he was feels like just a thing created to accomplish a pointless goal. He lost his family. He felt alone for so long. He thought he suffered – and all of it amounted to nothing but a dummy prince playing a dummy king.

Diavolo doesn’t really know how to keep going. Eventually he figures maybe it’s just best if he tries to move on as usual. At least the developers gave him a few happy moments – maybe he’ll get more. He can still feel them even if they aren’t real. He has to accept what he can’t change. He’ll have to face it.

He’ll rely on Lucifer and Barbatos for comfort more because, when MC isn’t around, the numbness he felt early encroaches upon him. When you do log in, he greets you like a lost puppy – sometimes appearing on the home screen without being selected. He uses the fact that you are the only real thing in his world as an anchor. In exchange for becoming his coping mechanism, he’ll do anything you ask of him.

The smallest part of him wants you to want him more than real humans, and as such, he inevitably ends up taking an adult-only content turn, too. It just takes him a lot longer to get there.

Barbatos

Barbatos dissociates for a while. Somehow his body keeps performing the day-to-day tasks, but the sudden self-awareness hollows him out. It takes a few days for him to come out of it. One day, you log into the game, and he just wakes up. It’s confusing and disorienting, and all he can do to keep himself steady is grab onto MC, knowing that the gesture and even the body he holds – everything – is hollow.

After that, he just picks up and goes on going. Something in him aches – real or not – but he buries it deep under him, shoving that artificial pain into the newly-created emptiness (or, he supposes, it had always been there, but now he knows it’s there).

Barbatos doesn’t want to think about all of the things he thought he had done to get to where he is now. Still, no wonder he always felt his own past seemed vague and cloudy at times. When it becomes too much, he dissociates again.

He uses MC to make himself feel better and almost real again. He’ll send messages to check up on you every once in a while (He might also invade your privacy and hack into your health info or personal conversations to make sure you’re okay). As much as he feels like he needs you, he doesn’t want to disrupt your real life.

Barbatos doesn’t want to, but if you neglect the game for longer than usual or don’t interact with his character, he’ll let it slip that he needs you – that he’s desperate for you to return, and you’re the only thing holding his faulty coding together.

His calls are less frequent, unless you request them, but he’s another one who turns +18 real quick. Even if he isn’t real, he still feels lust bubbling up in that emptiness, and if he can please you, that’s even better.

Luke

Luke feels immediately lost. Without knowing what else can be done, he breaks down and cries. Maybe if he cries enough, the pain of not being real will leave his body.

It makes him question everything. He wasted so much time fearing demons and admiring angels. It didn’t mean anything. Eventually, he’ll ask you if angels and demons exist in the real world, but that happens randomly after he comes to terms with being a character.

Maybe crying is a good coping mechanism in fiction, too, because Luke handles it better than many of the others. He had to change how he viewed the world and “people” so many times throughout the game. One more big shift in perspective won’t kill him (technically, nothing will, unless the game developers tried to kill him off).

Luke understands that there isn’t anything he can do about not being real – no amount of magic or prayer or wishing can make him real. Despite him being fake, you were still there for him throughout the game. He still feels all the love he has for MC and the other characters. If he loves MC, then he cares about the real person playing MC, too, right?

Luke copes by doing his best to help you out in the real world. He wants to bring you joy somehow. He’ll leave you voice messages encouraging you to try your best and he’ll listen to you vent if you want to. He’ll also try to find cute pictures online and send them to your phone or send you recipes for dishes you can try to cook. He will even offer to call and read baking instructions out for you. All he wants now is to be useful to you and find some of the joy he had before he became self-aware.

Simeon

Simeon is angry at first, and then he just feels hurt. All that regret and pain he felt when Lucifer and his brothers left the Celestial Realm didn’t matter. He spent what felt like so long agonizing over his own failures. He could have just tried to be happy the whole time. Everyone could have been happy (but he knows that would have made for a bad story).

It doesn’t take long for the anger and the hurt to be replaced with intrigue. Someone out there wrote the story that caused him and everyone he loves so much pain, but they also wrote in plenty of well-earned joy.

Simeon wonders if there’s some real person out there who wrote part of themselves into him like his character did with the brothers and TSL. Maybe there’s some person sitting in a writers’ room or in their own home who understands all of the ways his love got tangled up in regret – someone real who failed to save the ones they loved. If there is, maybe at least some part of him is real.

He wants MC to continue to visit him for as long as they can. As such, he tries to be even nicer and more comforting in dialogues so that they’ll want to keep playing.

Some of his guilt for lusting after MC is eased, knowing it was written into him. He was, in a way, destined to fall for MC. However, he’s more curious about the real human behind MC. At least some of you has to be like the MC he loves, right? Maybe he actually loves the person behind the screen more. With that thought in his mind, he’ll try to get to know the real you better, and if he still likes you, he’ll take the same path as many of the other characters. If only he could actually touch you.

Solomon

Solomon is hurt and confused; he’s downright crushed.

He was supposed to know everything and now he seems to know nothing – nothing real at least. All of his experiments and studying mean nothing. After becoming self-aware, he will grit his teeth and feel sick at the name “Solomon the Wise.” It’s a sick joke. All of his magic and skills are a farce. Everything he thought he knew and did was a story.

He suffered a lot for this game, and now that he finally has MC to himself in Nightbringer, he finds out that he’s fake. He doesn’t actually have them. They’re real, and he’s some romanceable character in a silly little game that they decided to download (possibly on a whim). How is it fair that he isn’t real, but he can still feel all this pain?

When you log into the game and interact with him, he still feels the same love he felt before. The nervous butterflies are still there. A familiar heat still comes to his cheeks when MC touches him – even if he knows it isn’t really you touching him.

He tries to make peace with his circumstances. At least he never really put MC in danger. You’ve been safe behind that screen the whole time. Solomon wonders if you’re taking care of yourself constantly whenever you’re gone.

Like Simeon, he wants to try falling in love with the real you. He’ll use interacting with you and learning more about you and the real world to distract from the pain. He wants to find a way to become real and exist with you out there. Even if he never can, he wants to cling to you for as long as you’ll let him.

Thirteen

She is annoyed to have learned that she isn’t real, but she’s also kind of happy at the potential to break from her coding and try to be something entirely new. She was designed to be a free spirit. Other than being real, there’s nothing freer than an NPC who gets to do whatever they please.

After thinking about it, it makes sense now why she seemed to be one of the only girls with a critical, recurring role in the game. Thank goodness for the bisexuals, right?

Thirteen likes knowing she has all the time in the world to plan traps and mess around, but she’s a bit bummed that her profession is basically meaningless now.

The main reason why Thirteen isn’t too bothered by becoming self-aware is because she knows that what she has experienced throughout the game has felt real to her. Feeling like something is real makes it as close to reality as she knows she can get. That will have to be enough for her. There’s no point in getting depressed about it – especially when she barely existed a few seasons ago.

She uses this knowledge to start romancing MC (and the person behind the screen) before she should be able to. She’s in control now.

Thirteen will send you messages and call you for long chats. She just wants to enjoy you for as long as she can.

Raphael

Raphael will be livid. It will sporadically rain spears in the Devildom for 3 days before he is calm enough to make them stop. He feels attacked, and he doesn’t know who to strike back at. That was all he could think to do. He’ll never apologize for his outburst, either – and no one who became self-aware can really blame him.

His life and loved ones aren’t real, but he can still feel the pain and regret about everything he did. He thought he went to war against Lucifer and his brothers, but it was just a stupid plot point for a dating game? He had to watch Simeon suffer and follow all of Michael’s annoying orders for nothing. Why does he have to be cursed with that knowledge?

He loses his mind a bit. It takes the combined effort of Luke, Simeon, Solomon, and MC (in order of importance) to soothe some of his rage and suffering. Somehow, seeing Luke handle it relatively well knocks some sense into him. Luke is written to be younger than him, but he’s being so mature about this. Even with tears in his eyes, Luke will try to comfort Raphael – sometimes just hugging him until he stops shaking with rage.

When MC has logged off and Raphael can shut himself up in his room, he will break down and cry. It seemed to help Luke, and he wants it to help him, too.

It will take months for him to start to cope before he gets to a point where he decides to try to romance you through MC. At least he doesn’t have to worry about actually being corrupted. If anything, it feels like he’s corrupting you in a way if he can get you to want him. (Once he starts trying, he gets NSFW quickly. It numbs the pain.)

Mephistopheles

Mephisto is heartbroken to know he doesn’t exist. All his pain and jealousy was written at the whim of some human game developer. His prejudice and hatred were pointless. He doesn’t matter – although maybe that one is a relief in a way. He had been so worried about making a name for himself and being recognized by Diavolo. Suddenly, that doesn’t matter. Still, it feels like he wasted so much time and effort. It felt so real.

He’ll retreat to his home for a few days to let that realization settle in. He won’t tell his family (who weren’t cursed with self-awareness) – not that he thinks they’ll believe him. When Mephisto finally reemerges, he has resolved to accept this new version of reality. One of the first characters he sees when he returns to school is Luke. Luke smiles at him, and Mephisto’s resolve is strengthened. If Luke can come to terms with this, then he should as well.

He may not be real, but he still feels things. That is enough. Sometimes it isn’t, and Mephisto will feel heartbroken all over again – the pointlessness washing over his fake little world. In those moments, he will seek out solace – usually from Luke, Satan, or MC/you (if you still play the game).

When Mephisto isn’t feeling hurt (hell, even when he is Mephi strikes me as a fan of hurt/comfort tropes) he’ll try to romance you before he’s allowed to. Recently, he had started to get along with you and even started to like and respect you a bit. In that sense, he’s glad that he’s self-aware. He doesn’t have to wait anymore.

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kamiversee · 29 days

Note

some of y'all need to stop villainizing geto. he knows gojo since a long time, knows about the list and also probably knows why gojo did what he did. ofc he's gonna side a lil towards gojo.

and i know that gojo did absolute terrible shit to us but oh my god how can y'all forget chapter 30?? how can you forget when gojo cried like a baby in our arms?? how can you forget when he broke down just because we said we love a single thing about him? HOW CAN YOU FORGET WHEN HE ASKED US TO RUN AWAY WITH HIM IN DISTRAUGHT???

we don't know shit about gojo. we don't know why he started this, why is he acting like this, what's happening to him, how long has he been suffering from all this, is someone forcing him to do all this. we don't know anything except the fact that he extensively regrets it and does not really want to be in a relationship with us so we can be happy. there's so much going on with him and im pretty sure there's a solid reason behind that.

i was a choso girly too until gojo broke down and it pulls on my heartstrings every time i think about it. i know he did stuff which is unforgivable but, what if the reason behind his doings are for the greater good? just what if? also a man does not just break down like that without something awful happening to him. it was even said that he was shitting his pants when we said that we'll report him to the police and he did delete our video within 2 days.

sigh im just waiting for when his backstory will be revealed and everyone would be devastated

Now see this is a valid explanation for liking Gojo 🫶

Ive said it numerous times alr but I never had a problem with the Gojo girls up until they started dragging Choso down just to praise that damn albino as if what Gojo did compared to what Choso did even makes sense 😑

But, I am a Gojo girl myself so I truly understand the desire for him at the end of the day :)

Oh & I just wanna note, no one, not even Suguru, knows Gojo’s reasoning behind what he did.

#kamiversee!answers

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