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bisexualiteaa · 4 days

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Domestic Serenity

Soft Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Fem reader

Synopsis: You and Cooper return to your settlement you set up, it being the closest thing you could call a home on those harsh days in the sun and from the rad storms. After too many close run it’s lately out in the wastelands, Cooper comes home from the market to appreciate the closest thing you guys have to a post apocalyptic little slice of domestic life and show you how much he cares about you.

CW: Smut MDNI! Slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from the show, oral (fem receiving) dirty talk, established relationship, unprotected sex, p in v, irradiated cream pie, p0rn w/o plot, reader has a southern accent, Cooper being a perv, Cooper makes a few crews jokes and one liners to reader

AN: so I’m relatively new to Fallout lore and such, but the hubby and I finished the Fallout TV series a week or so ago and like most others, Cooper Howard’s got me in a grip tighter than his lasso. 😮‍💨 Please be gentle, I pulled a little from Fallout 4 and the TV series in a meshing that I thought felt right. This is briefly proofread but I’m still new to all things Fallout but I hope I did our cowboy justice and I hope y’all enjoy!

You were doing laundry for the day in your house, or better yet, what you could call a house these days, at the little settlement you set up for you and Cooper to live, and some houses for a good few other people you’d met along the way to make it into a nice small town. There was plenty of food to go around from the growing gardens, fresh, clean water, some electricity to keep the gates protected from raiders and things of the like, but also for some street lights at night. It was like a nice little slice of life before the war, or the closest you could get to it anymore anyway, it was peaceful.

It was a particularly sweltering hot day outside, hotter than usual as the sun beat down on the sand, and your skin when you’d step foot outside for even just a few minutes. “Shew, it’s hotter than hell outside” you exclaim, feeling the rush of the hot air that funneled in when Cooper set foot through the door. You were thankful to have chosen a pair of shorts and a tank top to wear out of your small selection of other clothes when you woke up this morning. “Don’t half mind it. Means I get to watch you pad around the house in them lil’ shorts you got on” Cooper said as he shut the door finally, then dropped his saddlebag and things off at his feet, having just come back from a run to the market to grab the essentials like RadAway, Rad-X, Stimpacks and some other chems and things here and there to keep handy for when you both set back out on your travels. You heard his boots clomp heavily against the floor as he drug himself inside, his eyes traveling your figure as you were washing some clothes in a wash bin, watching you bend over and your ass shake a little when you would scrub hard enough at some stains. He gave a crude whistle at the sight, one you were used to him using as a form of expressing that he liked something, making a small grin stretch to your lips. “Somethin’ tells me you’d make one hell of a sexy housewife” he said, coming behind you and tapping your ass playfully to get you to stand back up. You gave a chuckle before swatting at his hands as you turned to face him, making him only grin wider. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. Although I’d miss wanderin’ the desert with you and all the shit we get up to” you said with a grin, putting the rag you had in hand over your shoulder as he stepped closer. “Like annoyin’ the piss outta me and stealin’ my kills?” He asked playfully, putting his hands gently on your hips to pull you into a kiss. You giggled in response as you put your hands against his chest to keep him close. “You love watchin’ me kill things with that big ol’ gun’a mine” you said in between kisses, making him hum in agreement with you, or maybe it was a groan at the thought because you were right, the sexiest thing to him was seeing you with a gun in hand, cocking it back after taking down raiders, roaches, scorpions, or whatever your target may be, with the confidence you do. He loved the excited “oh yeah!” Or “booyah!” You’d say to yourself afterwards too in celebration before you’d both rummage through whatever it was you downed. “Oh I absolutely do. Like it even better when it ain’t my bounties you’re droppin’ there, lil’ missy” he quipped, making you giggle again as he tapped your hip with his gloved hand before parting from you to let you get back at what you were doing. Also to watch you bend over some more, can’t restrain a dog once it’s loose. “Just be a quicker shot honey bun, then it won’t be a problem!” You joked, twirling the rag that was over your shoulders in your hands to wind it tight before cracking it against his ass, making him turn his head to look at you from over his shoulder all slow and intimidating like. “Oh it’s like that now, is it?” He asked, turning towards you some more, making you flash him a wide, deviant smile, knowing exactly what you did and that you’d likely be paying the consequences for it here in a few seconds. “Maybe it is! Whatchya gon’ do ‘bout it?” You asked with a widening grin the closer he got.

Before he gave you an answer, he picked you up, placing you over his shoulder with ease. You yelped playfully as he did, still sometimes surprised by the strength he carried before laughing as you started to wiggle in his grasp. “Fix that lil attitude of yours ya got goin’ on” he said, tapping his hand against your ass again, making you only laugh more as he started to walk out of the kitchen away from your chores. “Cooper! I was in the middle of somethin’ there, put me down!” You ordered through your relentless giggles as he continued to walk, almost slow at this point to torment you. “No can do sweetheart. Not ‘til you’ve nicened up” he said as he brought you to the bedroom and threw you on the bed but not too harshly. Just enough to see you bounce and hear you laugh. “I was in the middle of laundry! Your shirts’ll get all starchy an’ stiff if I don’t do it a certain way” you said, sitting up some and getting ready to get up but he sat down with you, which stopped you. He gave you a grin as he looked at the way your thighs were squeezed by the legs of your shorts, and how short they were sitting on you. “My shirts ain’t the only thing gettin’ stiff, I can tell ya that much” he said, making you swat at him once more as he gave a raspy laugh at your blush and facial expression in reaction. “You fiend. You ever thinkin’ with that head on your shoulders? Or just the one in your pants?” You asked with a smirk, knowing all too well the answer to that question, not that you minded one bit either. “I think we both know they’re about the same, I ain’t ever seen you complain about it” he said, making you chuckle as he leaned in and pulled you into another soft, loving kiss that you knew was going to lead to something much more. “Not one bit” you replied between kisses as his hands rested on your hips once more, giving you a nice squeeze while also doing what he could to keep you as close as he could get. He always had his hands on you in some way, sometimes in a suggestive way, but most times in a protective manner. He had to show the others and everyone out there in the commonwealth that no one fucks with, or gets between him and his girl. “C’mon take a break, laundry can wait. I ain’t seen you all day” he said, and he always did have a way with words that made you weak. “Only if ya promise me you won’t get mad if your shirts get stiff” you said, making him laugh. “I don’t give two shits about how them shirts feel, I just need you” he replied, making you smile as that happy twinkle came to your eyes, and gosh how they lit up every time you saw him. “Then I suppose the laundry can wait” you said with a soft giggle as he started to climb over top of you as you laid back against the bed again. Your hair fanned out around you against the pillows like a halo, your eyes half lidded as you looked up at him expectantly with those siren eyes he swore turned his mind into a frenzy. You smiled up at him with those pretty white teeth before he kissed you, feeling his hands wander your frame over your tank top and moving downward as your arms looped around him to pull him closer.

Your one hand removed his large hat, placing it off to the side as the kiss grew more heated, your tongues tangling in a fight for dominance with one another, a battle which he won. You moaned into it as one of his hands slipped beneath your tank top, surprisingly free of his gloves as he groped one of your breasts, tweaking your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Let’s get this off’a you” he said, bringing your tank top up and over your head then tossing it to the side to be forgotten until later, trailing his kisses down your neck to your chest that now laid bare and exposed to the air. You were always a sight to behold to him, no matter how many times you had sex, or how many times he’d just seen you naked or even half naked, he considered himself lucky that you chose him. When he looked at you, everything felt right in the world again, even out in desolate wasteland. When you looked at him, you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, like he was your whole world, and he was. “My beautiful lady” he complimented before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, working his tongue and thin cracked lips along it as he toyed with the other in his fingers, being sure to give them both the love they deserved. You moaned as he did, your back keening up off the mattress some at his touch. It had been a while since the last time you two had a chance to have sex, so needless to say you were more than receptive to his touches. You shut your eyes as your head fell back against the pillow, soft moans leaving your throat as he switched treatments, leaving behind nice little hickeys as a reminder of who you belonged to. You bit your lip and casted your gaze down onto him as you felt his lips begin to trail down your chest to your stomach, before he was resting between your legs. “Much as I like these, don’t think you’ll be needin’ ‘em right now” he said, unbuttoning and sliding his fingers into the waistband of your shorts before tugging them down and off from you, tossing them aside as haphazardly as he did with your top. His eyes delighted him when he saw you lying before him in lace, a commodity that’s damn hard to come by these days, making him whistle before making another sound of satisfaction at the sight. “And you were just gonna let this stay hidden? You’re like unwrappin’ a present” he said, making you giggle as he was careful with them as he slid them off you, but tossed them aside all the same. “You’re enough to make a man like me go feral darlin’, ya know that?” He said, making you chuckle once more. “Gettin’ you t’ act a fool is my favorite pass time” you replied, making him chuckle before he placed one of your legs over his shoulder, laying teasing butterfly kisses to your inner thigh that trailed slowly down to your aching cunt.

“Thought I’d pick up some RadAway while I was down at the market today for ya, that way I can give ya what you’ve been wantin’” he said as he sheathed himself fully inside, giving you a moment to breathe and accommodate to his size and the intrusion. You gave a happy little gasp that made him give a dark chuckle in response. “How romantic” you said teasingly but you were truly warmed by it, a bright smile on your face that joined with the blush that came from him already prodding at the apex of your cervix. “Anythin’ for you sweetheart. Besides, be a real shame if this sweet ass a yours looked like mine because of my doin’” he said, making you laugh. “Oh hush you, you’re mighty fine in my book” you said, pulling him into a soft sweet kiss. “For a cowpoke anyway” you added to tease, earning a sharp snap of his hips against yours in retaliation, making a loud moan leave your lips. “Wanna try that again, darlin’?” He asked, making you blush a bit brighter. “Was just kiddin’, shit. But if that’s what I gotta do t’ get ya t’ be rough with me, might just have to get on all them nerves of yours” you responded, making him smirk down at you, god he loved that attitude and humor you always about you, it’s one of the things that kept him going through all this. “If you want rough, all ya gotta do is ask. Fair warning, I don’t play nice when I do” he said, snapping his hips once more to hit deep inside of you, making your back arch up off the mattress once more. “Fuck, don’t want you to play nice. Want you t’ fuck me like you hate me” you said, making him chuckle as he quickly pulled out, making you whine at the loss of contact before you were abruptly rolled onto your stomach and his hand reached into your hair to pull your body into a harsh arch. “That dirty mind and mouth a yours’ll be both our undoin’ sweet cheeks” he said, bullying his way back into your pussy, starting a harsh pace that had your eyes rolling back as his hips slapped against your ass harshly. “You and I both know ya wouldn’t want me any other way” you quipped, making him chuckle as he yanked your hair to pull you back some more, earning a loud moan from you. “Look mighty tasty like this, I could just eat you alive” he said in a low growl, his lips and teeth sinking to your shoulder, leaving a bruise and teeth marks behind, marking and claiming you as his. He felt the way your walls squeezed around him as you whimpered pathetically with his bite, and the way you grew wetter as he did. “Fuck…Cooper” you moaned, making him chuckle as his hands gripped your hips, watching as you moved your hips back and met his thrusts hungrily. “Sure is a pretty sight, seein’ you split open on this cock. Hungry little thing, swallowin’ me the way you do. Tell me who this pretty pussy belongs to” he said, making you grin proudly at his praise. “‘s all yours baby, only for you” you replied as you felt the bed start to rock back and forth and heard it creaking beneath your bodies as he found that spot inside you liked so much. For as hot as it was outside, you two fucked like it was the only way to keep warm. “Damn straight. Fuck…” he groaned, enjoying the sight of your ass jiggling each time his cock entered then reentered you and the sounds you made when it would happen. “So close…please, don’t stop” you begged, knowing full and well he never had any intentions to, but the words flew from your mouth as if they were the only thing you knew to say. You felt one of his hands leave your hip, coming to reach and rub tight circles against your clit, making that coil in the pit of your stomach wind tighter. “Cum for me baby” he said, working you closer and closer to your peak that was just around the corner, all you needed was one last push and he knew it, he could feel it with the way your walls hugged him.

He bit down on your shoulder once more, making you moan as you toppled over the edge. Your walls clenched around him tightly, earning a groan from him as your cunt spasmed and milked him for everything he could give you. Your mouth laid open in a wide O shape as your back arched, keeping him deep inside of you as his release creeped up on him from yours. He let out a deep, feral growl as he came inside of you with his teeth sunk into your perfect skin, missing the feeling of what it was like to empty himself into someone again. You hummed contentedly as you felt him fill you up, a pleasant tingle running through you as he laved over the teeth marks with his tongue. “You alright, sugar? Wasn’t too rough with ya, was I?” He asked by your ear, littering your skin with kisses as one of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your side. You gave a giggle. “You always act like you’re gonna break me” you replied, making him chuckle. “I just might if I ain’t careful, certainly ain’t known for being a softy for others sweetheart” he said, making you chuckle as he pulled out of you slowly, trying his best not to hurt or overstimulate you both, allowing you to turn around and look at him. “Maybe I’d like it if ya did, but no you didn’t go rough on me. Was perfect, as always” you responded flirtatiously but with a sweet smile, making him chuckle dryly once more. “Good, I’ll always take good care of my girl” he replied, leaning down to kiss you softly before grabbing a rag and wetting it to help clean you up. As he came back and spread your legs, he watched his seed leak from you, moving down your thighs. He gave a crude whistle. “Now that’s a sight” he said with a mischievous grin, making you roll your eyes with an entertained smile as he helped clean you up, laying a kiss to your inner thigh. “At least give me a little recovery time, I ain’t got that stamina you got yet” you said, making him laugh as he disposed of the rag and climbed back into bed with you. “And don’t worry, I had my Rad-X for the day. Though I gotta say, that’s a feeling that’s totally worth a little radiation sickness if ya ask me” you said, both of you giving a chuckle as you kissed him softly once more, your hand resting on his chest as you did. “Well, just t’ be safe, I got RadAway. Some for me to keep me from turnin’ feral and rippin’ you to pieces, and some for you for those nights you crave that sweet feelin’” he said, handing you the IV bag of yellow liquid from off the bedside table. “What would I ever do without you?” You asked, hooking it up to the rack and putting the IV in to allow it to take effect. “A whole lotta nothin’ good I imagine. Probably spend a whole lotta nights hoping them dainty little fingers a yours can achieve anything close t’ what I give ya every night” he teased with a grin, making you roll your eyes with a laugh but he wasn’t wrong.

His hand came to yours, pulling it to where your fingers would intertwine with his, something he always did when you used needles and medicines on yourself as a gesture of comfort. He pulled his inhaler and a vile of RadAway from his duster that lay on the floor as you let the bag drip slowly. He took a hit off of his inhaler, giving a contended sigh as he leaned back against the pillows and let it work its way into his system. He looked over to see you, admiring him like he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. He gave you a sweet smile, one pulled deep from his heart as you leaned your head against his shoulder. One that said the three words he’d been struggling to try and tell you after all this time being together, a loving look in his usually dark, haunting gaze. “I love you” he said, making you look up at him in astonishment that he’d finally come around to saying it. You smiled at him, that same sweet smile he saw the first time he ever sent a flirty word your way, the same smile he’d come to absolutely adore seeing stretch to your cute face every time you saw him. “I love you too, Coop” you replied back, easing the tightness in his chest as he awaited your response. He gave you a relieved smile as he kissed your head, slinging his arm around you to pull you into his side and hold you close.

The moment was sweet, quiet save for the sounds of your joined breathing and heartbeats but peacefully so. You both stayed like that for a good while, the bag of RadAway already run down to nearly empty. That peace was disturbed when you realized you still had some chores on your list left to do for the day. “Shit, I still got laundry and shit to do” you said, sighing as you realized it and tipped your head back with a groan, removing your IV and bandaging up your arm, getting ready to get up and go back to it. “Hold it there, little lady” Cooper said, getting up and putting his briefs and pants back on. “I gotchya. You rest that pretty head a yours while I take care of it, ‘kay? Let that stuff work its way in ya” He said, making you look up at him. “You ain’t gotta do that Coop…” you replied, making him shake his head at you. “Shh, shh, shh. Don’t you move a muscle there, pretty lady. I got it” he urged, kissing your head once more before placing his hat back on his head, grabbing his shirt from the floor and throwing his duster over his shoulder. “‘s a good look on you” you said with a half lidded smile, your eyes raking his form as he turned and looked at you, shooting a grin your way. “And that is a good look on you” he replied, tipping his head to gesture at you who still laid in bed naked, hair slightly messy, a few bite marks and hickeys littering your otherwise mostly unblemished skin. You gave a grin and a giggle as he stood there, a calculated look in his eyes as he looked you over, resting himself by his arm along the doorframe. “I think I can live without a couple extra shirts” he said, tossing his shirt across the room without a care for where it landed, dropping his duster along the chair in the room. “What are you…Cooper!” You yelped playfully as he climbed back onto the bed, a hungry look in his eyes as he climbed over top of you. “Chores can wait a day, I need you sugar” he said, leaning down and slotting his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft, sweet kiss. “I need this” he added genuinely, his tone soft and loving as he pressed his forehead to yours while he held one of your hands in his. “Been enough days out in that shit hole wasteland that got me scared I was gonna lose you, and that’s somethin’ I just can’t have. So I wanna enjoy this, this little slice of paradise we got right now, with you” he said between soft, loving kisses, making you smile as you gave in and kissed him back. Laundry could wait for another day, he was right, times like these were hard to come by. Needless to say, no other chores got done that day, but it was certainly a night neither of you would ever forget.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #fallout x reader #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader

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baldysgate · 7 months

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A Day Hotter than the Hells

Halsin/ Fem!Tav NSFW || ACT III SPOILERS || NON-DECRIPT TAV || PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP || HALSIN POV ||

WARNINGS: Slight predator/prey, NSFW, Cunnilingus (fem recieving), Forest Sex, Unsafe sex, alcohol mentions, slight astarion/halsin/tav mention:

It’s a day as hot as the hells in Faerun. Half the camp is down to their underwear, poor Karlach is suffering the worst. Unsurprisingly , Astarion seems unphased. Shadowheart and Wyll are nowhere to be seen, likely resting in their tents from the sun. Gale is busy casting spells in an attempt to keep himself cooled. Though the heat is daunting, the threat of the netherbrain still looms over the camps mind, so it isn’t a surprise to Halsin when she calls out for him, Astarion and Karlach to head out. And so, off to the town he goes.

After a few hours of adventuring and not much headway Halsin sighs as he wipes the sweat beading at his brow. It felt like he was being cooked alive and he was one of the lucky ones, being as he was in his druidic armor that gave plenty of room to breathe. He could only imagine how her and Karlach could manage in this high sun. Making their way back on the harsh cobblestoned path through the lower city after a long day, she stops. Halsin trails his eyes towards where their leader's head was turned, a shop with a long flowing dress in the window, god rays casting across the sage colored garment. He smiles to himself.

She is drawn to it and he can see it in her eyes- she wants it. It’s light fabric, perfect for a day as hot as this. Without a word she disappears into the shop and is out before he can think to look anywhere else, green fabric being stuffed into her pack.

“That’s quite sheer, darling.” Astarion says, though there’s no bite to his words, just a purr in his voice.

“And quite a good color on you.” Halsin adds, his voice rolling low and a smirk on his lips. It was his color, the camp had teased that it was. She knew it too, smiling at them both once the dress was safely packed away.

Karlach chuckles at both his and Astarions teasing, “Come on, back to camp. It’s too godsdamned hot out here.”

The walk feels like a desert, but he breathes a sigh of relief as the unnatural surroundings slowly give way to more and more nature, then finally, the familiar clearing where camp was set.Wordlessly they disperse, all dying to remove their heavy armor and into something much more revealing and comfortable. Halsin catches sight of Karlach stripping each piece of armor and heading for a pond and jumping straight in, the water around her bubbling as she sighs loudly. Astarion is quite composed and a lot less rushed, disappearing into his tent after grabbing his book from where it lay on a small table. Halsin passes her tent, there’s a clamoring of armor and he chuckles at the grunts she makes as she is undoubtedly shirking off her armor in a frenzy. He’s impatient to do the same.

Unlike the others, he is not so worried of who sees. It is only natural to be bare surrounded by nature to him and so off comes the top of his armor without much of a fuss. Gauntlets came next, which he plopped into the chest by his tent. Then shoes and the bark that tied around his calves. With a sigh he stretches his arm, reveling in the feeling of the barely there breeze that caresses his exposed torso. He said a small prayer to Silvanus, hoping tomorrow would bring kinder weather.

He hears a ruffle of tent flaps and sees her and it feels the air has been knocked out of his lungs. Oak father, grant him strength! He often preferred her without the social binds of clothing but this, this he would be more than glad to gaze at for hours. The dress is long, but shapely. Every curve suits her perfectly and leaves nothing to imagination. The slits on the side leave her legs bare and teasing, rising almost to her waist before coming together and hiding the stomach he adored pressing soft kisses against. His eyes followed upward to the way her chest pressed against the crest of the dress, almost threatening to spill over. He could see how her budding nipples pressed against the thin cloth as the wind blew and Halsin had to stretch his neck to push down the near growl in his voice.

She turned to him now with a smile pressed against her lips, striding over to him before planting her hands on her hips, “Glad to be back?” She asked.

Halsin smiles down at her, now able to admire her closer, “Quite glad.” He breathes out, though his tone came out far lower than usual. Quick as ever she seemed to notice the change in his tone, dropping an arm and taking one step closer, “Do you.. Like it?” she gives him that sly smile, like she always did when she already knew the answer.

He chuckled, pressing his fingers against the seam of the dress, running his hand down the warmed skin of her upper thigh, “You could put all the goddesses to shame, my heart.”.

“Oh, really?” She said, low and sultry, nearing closer so that her chest pressed against his abdomen, instinctively his arm wrapped around her waist “ Be careful, you may anger one or two with a compliment like that.”

“Then it would be a most glorious last sight. Though I would weep to think I may never lay my eyes on your beauty again, my love.” He drew her in, pressing a hungry kiss against her soft lips.

The heat be damned, the way her arms wrapped around his shoulders had a much different heat in his gut as the kiss grew hungrier. Silvanus help him, he was enamored with every part of her, a mere touch felt as if it could bring him to his knees. He wanted nothing more than to pick her up and head for the forest to find a way to quell this feeling for just a moment, though maybe once would not be enough to keep him sated. Her little jump as his hand graced her backside had him chuckling into the kiss, her hand tugging at his shoulder length hair forces a groan from his lips. It's all too soon when she withdraws from him, cutting the moment short for his liking.. but if Halsin knew anything, it was patience.

“I see you certainly approve of the new outfit.” She said coyly, withdrawing herself from him fully and smoothing the creases of the dress in question.

“An understatement, surely. I did not think clothing could compare to the bare form that nature has blessed you with…but it looks like I may have to make an exception.” he smiled, but there was heat in his gaze even still, "Perhaps later I could show you just how wrong I was."

She gives him a look not unlike a fox as she leans up closer to his ear, "I would love nothing more." it takes everything in him to stop from throwing her over his shoulder right then and there.

"Then I look forward to it." He hums low.

"My my, and here I thought I may miss the druids reaction." The familiar lilt of Astarions voice draws both their attention to him, "not that I mind, of course. I am more than happy to watch." He smiles so wide his fangs show.

"You are more than welcome to watch or even join in if you'd like." She says it before he can and there's a part of him that hopes the vampire would agree. But Astarion scoffs with his head held high, "And watch your animalistic fucking in the woods? No thank you, darling." He pauses as if turning the idea over in his head, "Besides, you know I hate dirt."

"Oh come now, surely you would not let a bit of soil ruin your own pleasure, Astarion?" Halsin chuckles with humor in his voice.

"I guess there's no accounting for taste with you, is there, Halsin?" Astarion sighs out, "You two have your fun, far be it from me to judge.. but I will anyway." He laughs.

"Spoiled sport. I guess you'll miss out on all the fun." She gives Halsin a squeeze on his bicep, a small promise for later before she sets off after Karlach who is still stretched out on the rocks in the pond.

The late afternoon seems to drag on forever and so does the heat. Halsin tries to busy himself, conversing with Wyll who had taken to sitting near a river with his feet in the water just a ways away from camp. Even in their discussions it was hard to pull himself from that memory of her.

The sun began to set and Gale had been adamant to start the fire with his magic, flourishing with a show- as he did with most things. Halsin sat with his back against a fallen log, picking through camp supplies ready to be tossed amongst the fire. He was impatient for his time with her but could not deny the rumbling of his stomach. Now that the heat no longer punished them he could not help but feel famished. She came to rest besides him, having made her rounds of the camp for tonight. Undoubtedly she knew he would keep her more than preoccupied for the remainder of it.

Their leader took the camping supplies and threw them on the ironcast pan as soon as the fire was ready. He watched her wordlessly, the way she still wanted to take care of her companions when she had already done so much. It made his heart sing. And yet he knew she was exhausted, only fueled by the terror of their cranial stowaway. He ran a large hand between her shoulder blades as if to sooth the thought from both their minds, a barely there motion of circles had her leaning back against him as they waited for dinner to cook.

Gale had been regaling his time in Netheril for anyone who would listen. Wyll, Shadowheart, Karlach and Astarion had popped open a bottle of wine and emptied its contents into their chalices. Lae'zel plucked a piece of food far too early from the pan with a dagger and bit into it. But that was typical for her, Halsin had grown to expect. As a bear he'd often do the same but as an elf he would not turn up his nose to some well cooked spices. For a former archdruid this is not where he had expected to end up but now it was hard to imagine being anywhere else. He had grown to enjoy each of their companionship.

His lover traced soft lines into his hand, the druid feeling a shiver run down his spine. He had had many lovers in his time but few made him feel as heard and truly himself as her. How could one not be drawn to such inner beauty? Halsin was pulled from his thoughts when a bowl was pushed towards him, his lover smiling, clearly recognizing he had let his mind wander. He thanked her, taking the plate and taking a bite from the steak. He was quick, first to finish and even grabbing seconds. It's why he always made sure to collect more than an ample supply.

At last full, the others opened another bottle of wine joining in as chatter grew louder accompanied by laughter, the drink finally starting to settle into their tired bones. He suspected with the heat and the wine, it would take very little to addle their minds. Halsin could not savor in the moment, far too preoccupied now that neither heat nor hunger kept his mind elsewhere. Sensing this she looked up to him, nodding her head towards a darkened path that led from camp, "Give me a few moments, then come find me.. if you can. I want to see if the famed Druid Halsin is as great a hunter as they say." she was up so quickly he hadn't even had the time to reply.

Halsin's body felt alight as if every nerve was set on fire, the promise of this little hunt had been a most delightful surprise. His mind was buzzing with anticipation. Perhaps he gave her more time than he should and as he stood the others seemed to cheer him on. It was no secret where he was going and for what, nor did either of them ever try to hide it. He would've even chuckled at their cheering if he hadn't been so enraptured by the chase.

As he broke through the treeline the druid broke into a sprint, his senses heightened by the thrill. Wildshape was something he could do without, at least for now. Her scent still wafted in the air, standing out from the smell of soil and decaying leaves. Sweet, like honey. He stood still long enough to hear the snapping of branches to turn and run in where the noises were loudest. It hadn't been long when he caught the first flitter of that familiar dress, the moonlight that peaked through dense treetops made it too easy. He gave chase, hearing the pace quicken as she must've heard him too. Adrenaline pumping he could feel his eyes glowing with a familiar golden hue, threatening to force him into his ursine shape. No, he wanted to hold back , wanted to capture her as he was now. A clearing opened up, not unlike their first night together- seeing her run down to the lone tree that stood just at the edge of the water. He picked up the pace, quickly catching up so close he could almost touch her.

She stops, only to drop against the forest floor, her back against the lush grass. He halted, just fast enough that he didn't topple over her, but it did not stop him from nearly pouncing on her. He drew her hands upward in his, both his legs trapping her own. "It is unlike prey to merely surrender when in chase." He breathes heavily, watching her own chest heave from the exertion. Again he sees how her nipples press against the fabric, beckoning him to rip away the article of clothing. He resists the impulsive thought.

"Maybe I wanted to be caught." She smiles, her skin kissed by the soft blue glow of moonlight. She is breathtaking to him.

He descends, letting go of her hands so that he may touch everywhere he can as his lips press against hers. Halsin moves his leg to nudge between her thighs, which she happily parts for. It's euphoric, his tongue dipping into her mouth to taste every bit of her as she moans against him. He gives his own groan deep in his chest as she threads her fingers through his hair much like she did earlier and tugs lightly. His hands drift downwards, continuing to kiss her with everything he has, his thumbs finding the slits of the dress before his hand finds its way to that familiar patch of curls. Her body tenses only for a moment, her breath heavy as he realizes she hadn't even been wearing anything underneath.

"My heart…" He rumbles low, like faraway thunder, "nature pales in comparison to you."

"My love," She pleads back, "let me feel you. I have been waiting for far too long."

"Then you shall have me." He pressed another passionate kiss to her lips before peppering chaste kisses to her cheeks and then the warmed skin of her neck. She moans and his hand travels further still, his thumb tracing over her labia to feel her need coat his thumb. It makes him groan, feeling how ready she is for him. Halsin's kisses travel even farther still, taking his time to turn his attention on her covered nipple, then the other, all while his hand continues to circle her clit. The sounds he pulls from her are high and sweet like music, sounds he could not get enough of. She's begging as he continues soft circles, not enough to send her over the edge just yet, but enough to make her legs shake.

"Halsin, please." She says so softly he can barely hear it through her heavy breaths.

His lips have found their way lower, fingers now leaving her clit to push the offending fabric away. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, a soft whine when his fingers leave but let's out a cry when his mouth is there instead. The flat of his tongue swipes upwards before he truly sets in on his work, his tongue delving into her entrance makes her dig nails into his hair as he pulls her leg over his shoulder for better purchase, trapping her thigh with his arm. She is crying out his name with each swipe of his tongue and he can tell she is not far now. He hums and the feeling reverberates through her, pressing her upper back into the ground in attempts to arch her back in his strong grasp. With one arm hooked around the underside of her bent knee and the other pressing against her stomach it is hard for her to escape his hold. She tastes divine, the druid pulling sounds from her with each lick and suck. He could stay here forever, devoting his mouth to her pleasure until the sun rose again. But admittedly even he was growing impatient to finally feel all of her again.

The hand at her stomach ventured downwards trapping her other leg in the bend of his arm and aiding his tongue as he rubbed circles against her clit. Her sounds grew shrill, no longer words, just a desperate cry for release. And who was he to deny her? Now with vigor his mouth and fingers doubled their efforts , her hips canting to meet his mouth before she came with a shout, heel digging into his back and arching her own before falling back into the grass. Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths ,too blissed out to see how Halsin kept his eyes on her face through it all. He gave another testing swipe of his tongue and her hips stuttered, her voice begging for a short reprieve.

Halsin withdrew reluctantly, finding his way so that their eyes met again as he was careful not to put his large weight on her. He drew some of her hair away from her face, stuck to her brow from the heat as she gave him a lazy smile. Silvanus, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever been lucky enough to set eyes on. Chest rising and falling with eyes lit by the stars. He leaned down to kiss her, still hungry for her, but just as softly as she deserved.

“Okay, “ she said between the kisses, “Let me up.” her breath finally started to calm.

Quirking his brow he cocks his head slightly, “You’re.. Done?” there is a measure of reluctance in his voice, almost ready to ask if he had done something wrong when she smiles a sly smile. So he sits up, allowing her to stand up, and he follows. She’s already darting to the lone tree, a large willow with its dropping leaves that hung over with a heavy canopy swaying softly in the night air. She presses her back against the bark and beckons him closer with a crooked finger and it takes him only seconds to be upon her, resting his hand above her head as he stands over her. “Hardly, as if I could ever be done with you.” She whispers and he knows it’s the truth. The dam breaks and Halsin kisses her as if he hadn’t in centuries holding her against the trunk of the great willow, doing his best not to press his body too roughly against her smaller one. Her hands grab for the tassels that hold his pants together and he cannot help but moan into her mouth as she cups his hard length through the leather. Godsdamned constricting clothing!

With a grunt he pulls back, face twisting in conflict for the brief moment he had to part from her before yanking the pants from his hips, nearly tearing it in his need and stepping out. It is mere seconds but it feels far too long as he returns to her, pulling the long front of the dress to the side and letting out a low growl into her mouth as he feels her cunt rub against the length of him. Halsin stretches his neck, eyes an amber glow once again as he bares his teeth. “You intoxicate me.” He rumbles as he pulls her thigh to wrap around his waist with little effort.

“And you, I.” Her breathing is light and airy as he feels her tease against him, still feeling her warmth and wetness rub against the underside of his cock. He feels almost lightheaded and then the chord of his patience snaps. He lines himself up and pulls her into him as gently as he can in this state. “H-halsin!” She whines with a desperate warble that makes his back arch, pushing deeper into her.

“My heart,” he sighs, feeling how she stretches around him as his arms brace her hips, “You are nature’s greatest gift.. as if sent to me, meant to take me..” He groans as he finally seats himself all the way inside her and he can feel the way her breath shakes at every sensation.

“Then take me.” She whines, pulling him in to kiss, “You are driving me mad, don’t hold back.”.

It is enough to have his hips pull back and rut hungrily back into her, forcing a silenced yelp from her as Halsin no longer holds back, pressing his nose against her neck as his hips fight with hers. Through the haze he registers she’s still wearing the dress and he curses to himself, wishing he had removed it earlier before the threat of ripping it to shreds didn’t become more and more prevalent in his mind. He pulls the straps at her arms down, not enough to tear. She loves the dress and his heart could not bear to ruin what little pleasure she was allowed. She deserved at the very least that much. She pulls her arms from the straps to hook them around his broad shoulders, and he can hear her panting in his ear. It’s enough to make his eyes roll back in his head, hands moving from her waist to the hem of her dress to pull the offending fabric down, exposing her bare breasts to him. Halsin's hands pluck and rub against her budding nipples, the whine leaving her lips like a song. Despite the night it is still hot, he feels the sweat roll down his brow, the wind that rushes past his body is cold from the perspiration at his back. It’s a welcomed feeling after the day and it renews him with strength. His hips are rough and punishing, he can feel she’s close and each thrust into her tightness has him wanting more. The sounds, her scent that only grows stronger with the heat and their joining, driving him to near madness. The druid braces his free hand behind her back, hoping to alleviate the roughness of the bark against her from the tree.

“Hells.” She managed out, pressing her head against the trunk “I’m close, my love.” she warns.

“As am I.” he breathes against her throat, “Let me feel all of you, my heart. Do not hold a single one of those beautiful sounds back from me.” At that his hips are even harsher, and he feels her body begin to shake, her leg at his hip squeezed against him as she let out a cry of pleasure, growing impossibly tight around his length. Absolute bliss glimmers in her eyes, and he gives one, two, then one last thrust and follows her into that wonderful afterglow. They both stand there, her body nearly limp against him, his weight pressing back is the only thing that keeps them held against the tree, neither of them moving as he runs a hand soothingly against her hair, only listening to one another's haggard breaths as they slowly come back to the world around them.

“I don’t think I could ever tire of this.” She says and he can feel how the culmination of their joining begins to spill from her on to him.

He smiles, his heart feels full to see her so relaxed in his arms, “The night is far from over, my love.”. She smiles, pulling him in to kiss him once more. Halsin can feel his need for her growing again even as he pulls himself away, missing the feeling of her already. She nearly falls over him as he moves, the druid reaching his arms out to catch her. She laughs, a sweet, soft tone like honey and he can’t help but to do the same. Regaining her balance she stands on shaky legs, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him down with her into the lush grass. She laughs as he is careful not to fall on top of her, laying with her eyes to the night sky. Halsin does the same.

It’s a comfortable silence before she points to the sky, making shapes from the stars. They spend time just relaxing and he finds her arm intertwined with his as he points out what looks like a bear.

“I am not surprised you would find a bear, my love.” She teases.

“Look,” he points, adamant on the ursine shape in the sky, “You cannot look at that and tell me it isn’t a bear.”

She laughs again, rolling on top of him with her hands placed on the planes of his chest, “If you spot a githyanki, let me know.”

His hands immediately moved to her hips, “I am suddenly far more preoccupied with more important things.” he hums as he soothingly moves his hands up and down , tracing her hips to her thighs.

“Oh, you are?” she says with a roll of her hips.

He groans, gripping her hips now. Oak father, preserve him. It was hard to think of little else with her near. Halsin pushes his calloused hands beneath the slits of her dress and began raising the dress upwards. She aids him, pulling the remainder of the dress up and over her body, tossing it into the grass, leaving nothing to his imagination. A soft hum leaves his lips, now able to run his hands where he pleased on her soft and supple body. “Though I enjoyed the dress, this is far more to my liking. Bare, as nature intended.” She leans down, kissing him again. A feeling he would not soon grow tired of. Kissing back the heat returned, feeling her hips move against his. Halsin lets out a deep sigh, arching his back so that his cock presses against her welcoming entrance. She rolls her hips back, leaning her face up towards the sky as his name spills from her lips. He returns in kind, repeating hers in a soft tone into the night air. It was enough for the anticipation to be too much, as she lined herself up with him and slowly dropped down. He winced, she was somehow tighter and hotter, a sensation of hot wax runs down his spine. Halsin raised his hips, meeting her own in a slow rhythm.

She was marvelous, sitting above him and worshiping his body. Nature had truly outdone itself with her, the soft moonlight illuminating her . He reached up with one hand, cupping her breast, then the other with his other hand, watching as her body responded to his gentle caresses. He pulled at one of her nipples and she arched her back into the touch, dropping her hips down against his. “To be blessed with such a sight, it is more than I deserve.” Halsin sighs, drawing her eyes down to him, “Without you I would still be archdruid, still chasing after the shadowcurse to right wrongs from over a century ago. From the moment I met you I knew we were intertwined, my heart.” Her hips keep moving, but slow only slightly, “Halsin, without you I would’ve gone crazy long ago. You, my one sage council, who I can always look for when I need help. Like a tree rooted in deep soil, I can always look to you. That is more than I could have ever asked for.”

“You have my heart, my love.” She says finally.

“And you have my love, my heart.” He returns.

She leans down, kissing his lips in a neediness he often doesn’t see in her. He returns in kind, feeling her tongue slip into his mouth and he can’t help but push against her as she starts to pick up the pace of her hips, wanting this moment to feel like eternity. She pushes his shoulders, forcing him back into soft grass and he can't help the chuckle that leaves him. But her dominance makes him groan, raising his hips harder as her thrusts come down to meet his. She bounces now, and he is transfixed with how her body moves, his hands at her calves, drawing soft circles with his thumbs.

“F-fuck” she whimpers arching backwards, her hands on his knees and rising up just to fall back on his cock.

If he could ask for anything it would be to live within this moment forever, to feel this pleasure, to know her body in this way from here until the Old Father took him from this world. The memory of her rising and falling against him would be etched into his brain for years to come. Her name left his lips once again, feeling the rising of his pleasure like the waves that crashed amongst banks of sand. As her hips canted he braced against her own, desperate for the inevitable end. Sensing this she sped up, her nails digging into his chest which only further heightened the pleasure that coursed through Halsin’s body. With a low and rumbled groan he came, his head hitting the soft ground as he spilled his pleasure into her. She followed soon after, a keening groan leaving her beautiful lips, pressing her body fully against his with a sigh escaping her lips. She kissed the half crescents she had left in the muscles of his chest, forcing another sigh to leave the druids lips. She lay atop of him, spent and utterly bear both physically and emotionally and he did his best to aid her, a strong hand running up and down her spine.

They lay there in silence, only listening to their heartbeat and labored breath. “We must return soon, my love.” Halsin whispered against her hair, though he did not want to leave their little oasis he knew dawn would come and once again the threat of the Netherbrain would be at the forefront of their minds..

“Let’s sleep amongst nature tonight. We can return to saving the world in the morning.” she sighed, moving so that she lay in the crook of his arm, spent and satisfied.

“In the morning, then.” he said against her, his arm bringing her in so she rested close. Halsin could not argue, to be amongst her and nature is all he ever needed.

The morning rays stir him awake first. How long they had stayed up enjoying one another, he was not sure. But what a night it had been, fully embracing their desires. He stood up, stretching and smelling the earthy wilderness around him, if only it had not been eclipsed by the rising towers of the town just a ways away. The water glistened in the early rays, fog still resting against its surface. Enticing enough to take a dip and from the way he felt, and surely she did as well, it was probably for the best. “My heart.” he roused her slowly, smiling in the way she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, “Let us enjoy the waters before returning.”

“Yes” she sighed with sleep still heavy in her voice, “that sounds delightful.”

They spent far too long enjoying the cleansing waters, both redressing reluctantly and returning to camp. Wine bottles littered a ring around the campfire, the camp still asleep as they walked through. It seems their companions had found their own fun in their absence. It was quite the night to be had by all.

#halsin smut #bg3 halsin #bg3 spoilers #halsin x tav #fem!tav x halsin #implied astarion/halsin/tav #bg3 smut #halsin x reader #reader x halsin #halsin #halsin pov

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joeloverture · 3 months

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sea-cret obsession | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dad's enemy!yachter!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession. warnings: (18+ mdni) yachter!joel, dad's enemy!joel, age gap (mid 20s/mid 50s), alcohol, joel is implied to be older than reader's dad - don't read too far into it, reader wears a bikini (anyone can, i promise!), fantasizing, creepyish joel but reader's into it, soft!dom joel, porn with a paper-thin plot, m!receiving oral, throatfucking, facial, cum-eating, f!masturbation, blowjob in the captain's chair, daddy kink (oops), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, degradation, pet names, aftercare [no use of y/n] word count: 2.9k a/n: this was supposed to be a ficlet for @iamasaddie's ✏️game. this is not a ficlet. please suspend your disbelief, this concept simply fell into my lap the moment i saw the wonderful moodboard aly put together for me. go check out the other fics, most of which are much shorter than mine and are absolute brain candy, that stemmed from aly's game!

Austin is hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell, and you haven’t stopped sweating bullets since climbing out of Lake Travis. After an afternoon of floating belly-up in your bikini off of the dock of the yacht club your dad frequents, your need for a drink finally outweighed your need for aimless swimming.

Your bare feet are still burning from the hotfooted walk across the wooden deck into the bar. Water droplets cling to your skin and leave a pattern of stippled concrete in your wake. It’s been a few hours you’ve seen your dad around the club, having already gotten into a pissing contest with new club members over horsepower and amenities. Your dad’s the type to always want the biggest and the best: the most decks, the biggest wine fridge, the nicest galley — because God forbid he lose his running ten-year superiority to a newbie.

So yeah, you need a drink. You don’t even have to order; the bartender, Callie, simply slides your usual order over, which you nurse while watching a preseason football game. You haven’t bothered to sit down, your hip popped out with your elbows propped up on the granite countertop.

You don’t even notice the wolf whistle from behind is directed at you until a man sidles up next to you, flashing a smile at Callie. He looks like he belongs in a yacht club, curls styled and sculpted neatly around his face down to where the collar of his blue blazer begins. Some of the buttons on his striped shirt are undone, and your eyes, much to your chagrin, linger at the slice of tanned chest peeking through the fabric.

He looks you up and down, unabashedly licking his lips when he sees the crease of your thighs. “Sweetheart, you’re much too pretty to be entertainin’ the ragtag kinda men around here.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by the yachters at this particular club, but it is the first time one of them has caught your eye. “I’m not–” you start before you hear the telltale sign of your dad’s laughter coming from close by. You turn around, drink in hand as he rounds the corner, sunglasses on and a towel around the back of his neck.

Your dad’s expression immediately sours with a speed you’ve never seen in him before. His lips draw tight at the sight of you – or maybe the sight of the man next to you.

“Joel,” your dad says, separating from his entourage. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Seems it,” the man, presumably Joel, nods, flagging down Callie for an old fashioned. The glass sweats condensation along his sturdy hand. He holds eye contact with you while he sips, only looking away when he runs his tongue along the rim of the glass. “Oughta let me take ‘er for a ride one day. Bet she’d appreciate the fine machinery of a real boat.”

You don’t miss the innuendo to his words even if your dad doesn’t. You scrub your hands along your sides, your sunscreen-sticky skin dewy beneath your palms. You shush the part of yourself that bets you’d appreciate it, too.

“Your boat is maybe good for getting to the retirement home across the lake,” your dad snaps, squeezing your shoulder. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s head home.”

You find your flip flops at the bottom of your beach bag, barely having the time to kick them on before your dad is practically pulling you out of the yacht club. He gives half-hearted waves to his usual boating buddies until you’re in the parking lot, surrounded by heat shimmering over the blacktop. The scalding hot leather seats burn the backs of your thighs and the small of your back as you settle in. With a purr, the air conditioner blows a fresh burst of wind in your face.

“What was that all about?” you ask when he starts the engine.

Your dad clips his sunglasses on his polo shirt, gripping the steering wheel ten and two with a winded sigh through his nose. “Fuckin’... rookie with his triple-decker Ferretti.”

Joel looked rich. But not Ferretti rich. “Who the hell in Austin owns a Ferretti?”

“That son of a bitch, that’s who. I don’t want you runnin’ amok on Joel’s boat, you hear me?”

“Ain’t planning on it,” you respond as if you don’t already know what’ll happen if Joel propositions you again.

You see Joel again soon, but only in passing. A wink behind your father’s back, a drink from the gentleman across the bar that was only coincidentally Joel. The locations of these run-ins are always different. Sometimes you walked by each other on the dock. Sometimes he’d give you both a quick wave from across the water before he sped off, leaving the boat rocking on the stirred up tide and your dad cussing up a storm.

Today’s almost-tryst happens on the dock. You’re walking past Joel’s designated dock in a bikini that you’d nearly thrown out because of its snug fit. You have to smother your disappointment when you don’t see him on the top deck sipping a beer. You know better than to be disappointed over the man who your dad has not only claimed as a mortal enemy, but also claimed as the antichrist. With the thoughts Joel gives you when your hand is between your thighs, it might not be too far from the truth.

You think you have most of it figured out – he’s rough, he has to be. With how relentless as he is on the waters, it makes no sense for him to be anything else. His fancy, custom belt buckles snicking as it comes undone so he can yank his jeans down and get inside of you. Those chains he always wears would hang in your face, swaying with every roll of his hips into yours as he chases his pleasure deep inside of your–

“Woah there, darlin’,” a honeyed voice coaxes you, a muscled arm darting out to stop you in your path. “Almost walked right into the lake.” Your head snaps up to look at Joel, the very inconvenient object of your fantasies. You swallow the quickly-forming lump in the back of your throat. “You sure you ain’t had too many?”

“Positive,” you say. You haven’t even done a shot s0 far today.

“Mmm, alright.” The playful glint in his eyes doesn’t seem too convinced. It makes your heart stutter before you remind it to keep beating. “Tell ya what, you’re welcome to ‘sober up’ on my boat.”

You look between where your dad’s dock sits empty. He’s out with his co-workers today, shooting the shit too much for their own good. Then you look between Joel and his boat, the beauty of a Ferretti that’s just two steps away.

Mouth already watering at the possibilities, you say, “I do remember you promising me a ride, old man.”

Joel’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he makes the long step from the dock to the boat, hand held out for you. You don’t hesitate to let him help you aboard.

You’re on your knees in front of the captain’s chair before he gets to the middle of Lake Travis. “Old man,” he mocks above you with his legs spread as far as they can go. You kitten-lick his hardened cock, making sure to lap up the obscene amount of his precum. There’s certainly one part of Joel that doesn’t need to go to a retirement home, and it’s in your mouth. You suckle at the leaking head of his cock while his strokes your cheek, only pulling away to spoon a drop of his precum from your lip onto your tongue. “You like suckin’ an older man’s cock, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, taking him deeper so you can tongue the vein along the underside of his cock. From that, he groans, head slumping on the headrest so he can gather himself. You spit a generous amount into your hand, wrapping around the base to properly suck him.

“Bet there’s a whole ‘nother lake in that skimpy lil’ bikini of yours, ain’t that right?” You nod around his length and go a little deeper. He’s heavy on your tongue, long and girthy all at once. He presses lightly against the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him, but you wouldn’t pull away from him even if the yacht itself set on fire. He moans as you start to bob your head up and down. You rub your thighs together just thinking about what his cock could be capable of between your legs. “Mhm, I know, baby. You wanna push that outta the way and give it a rub for me? A rub for your real daddy?”

A choked whimper punches its way out of you. His hips jerk from the vibrations, unintentionally pushing himself further down your throat. You expect it to be too much, but it isn’t. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath as you wrap your hand around the wide palm seated on his thigh and raise it to the back of your head. “Please fuck my throat, daddy,” you pout up at him, a mixture of your spit and his precum dripping down your chin and into your cleavage.

Another groan tugs its way out of him when he looks down at you. He cups the back of your head and brings his cock back to your mouth. “Can’t say no to such a gorgeous fuckin’ face. Gonna look so damn good covered in my cum.” You keep licking his tip, not wanting to miss a single drop of him. “Go ‘head and put a hand on your pussy, baby. Rub that clit that daddy’s got all throbbin’.”

And how could you ever say no to him? Your hand is down your bikini within seconds, peeling your tacky panties away from your cunt so your fingertips can rub circles along your clit. A circle against your swollen core pulls a moan from you right as he thrusts into your throat. He starts out slow, tentative as he pushes all the way into your throat and then pulls all the way out. His second thrust is much harder, stifling your breathing for a moment as a strangled noise of pleasure leave his parted lips.

He nudges you further down onto his cock, burying your nose into the triangle of skin exposed by his rumpled button-down. You force down the gag that builds in the back of your throat. Joel keeps your mouth speared on his cock with shallow rolls of his hips into the warm wetness of your mouth. You whine, prompting a hearty chuckle from him. “Good girl, daddy’s good little girl. Keep playin’ with yourself for me.” He smirks down at you. “Ain’t much different than what you do in your own bed, huh? Pussy just cryin’ for some cock, I bet.”

You moan in agreement as your eyes flutter shut when you rub your clit harder, harder, harder until arousal is smeared all over your knuckles and across your mound. “Nuh-uh,” he says with a punctuating adjustment of his hips. You gag, spit webbing through Joel’s happy trail. “Eyes on me.”

You’re satisfied to find him just as debauched as you feel. Strands of his usually put-together hair are out of place along his forehead, and his golden chain glistens with sweat. His hands grip the arms of the captain’s chair, spread on the tanned leather and exerting dominance over your kneeling silhouette. But you aren’t fooled. There’s a certain rosiness to his cheeks, a flare to his nose, that lets you in on the secret: he’s just as wrecked, just as in deep as you are.

You pull up and immediately sink down on his cock again, pleading eyes looking up at him, asking him. I want it daddy. I want you. And then he’s fucking your throat in earnest. His hips buck up to meet the back of your throat. You struggle to keep up with his size, his pace, but you suck his cock even with the knowledge that you won’t know how to explain your sore throat or raspy voice to your dad.

Joel squints down at you, absorbing the seeping spit from the corners of your raw lips, your droopy, ecstasy-laden eyes. He sighs, sinking down into the chair as he grinds his cock into your mouth and moves your head up and down his length. You take the hand that isn’t playing with your clit and reach to grab at his balls, kneading them. A narrow breath trips out of his lips. “Nasty bitch. Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close. Keep – keep doin’ that.” You drag your tongue along that bottom vein again, kneading one of his balls and making sure that when he pulls you off of his cock, you treat the head to one final taste.

“Open up, slut,” he coaxes. His cock twitches. He jerks himself once, twice, and then cums, rope after rope hitting your damp skin. His cum is hot, sticky, and you’re too preoccupied with trying to catch some of his release that your hand stalls over your cunt. You whimper when his cum lands on your tongue and follow it up by swallowing. Joel’s breath is unsteady as he looks down at you, cock softening in his lap. “Good girl,” he praises, reaching out to run his thumb along your stained skin. Drop by drop, he feeds you his cum, and you lap it up just as eagerly as you’d lapped him up.

You pull your hand out of your bikini when he’s done, tacky arousal stretching between your fingers. Going back on your haunches, you suck in a deep breath through your abused throat.

Joel pats his wide, thick thighs above you, the same ones you’ve been fantasizing about since that first day in the bar. “I promised you a ride, didn’t I?” A familiar, hooked smirk pulls at his mouth. Your face lights up in recognition and you practically scamper onto his thigh, stumbling as you tug your bikini out of the way to settle yourself on the linen coral shorts he has on. Joel laughs, a noise that has your cunt leaking onto the fabric, clit fluttering from the friction. Heat pulls tight in your stomach.

His hands land on your hips, guiding you back and forth when you hesitate at first. “Grind on daddy’s thigh, baby. Wanna see you cum on me.” Your head tips forward, forehead slotting against his shoulder when you start to push your hips into his. Need springs awake in your stomach when he drags you forward. A frayed moan tumbles out of you from his near-manhandling. You rut into Joel, bouncing, grinding yourself on him in the same way that you’d imagined yourself doing at least a dozen times before this.

“Daddy,” you whimper when the muscle goes taut underneath you, plucking something in your cunt. At the same time, a speedboat passes Joel’s yacht outside, leaving the ship rocking on the water in time with your movements as you ride his thigh. You yelp, a strained noise as the pressure intensifies on your clit. “Close!”

He grips your hips even tighter, bounces his thigh up against you. “That’s it, that’s it. Let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

You come undone with the taste of his cum still rich on your tongue and his words ringing in your buzzing ears. Your orgasm whips through your body and leaves you shuddering against his center, halfheartedly continuing to roll your hips up against him. His thumbs rub circles into your skin while you come down. You suck in a shaky breath, Joel’s palm stroking the small of your back. “Did good for me, baby. Look real pretty when you come. Real pretty.”

You give him a shy smile, and he leans forward to kiss you, a brief moment of gentleness amidst his usually ubiquitous harshness. He pulls away with a tiny pat to your ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stumble off of him on shaky legs, leaning against the captain’s console. Joel pulls his shorts down his thighs and tucks his cock away, the wet spot your cunt had made on him beyond visible as he stretches himself out. He fishes around in a drawer in the galley for his baby wipes and joins you back at the console. He takes them to your face, wiping down where his cum had hit your skin. He even dabs gently at your thighs. Orgasm bliss clings to the edges of your vision still, and you can’t help but lean into him as he takes care of you.

“Could take you for a real ride, now,” Joel says with a moderate shrug. “Nice cove on the west side of the lake, good for a quick swim. I’m sure your dad would throw a fit if he knew, but I’m sure you’re good at keepin’ secrets, too. Got a real good mouth on ya.”

You playfully punch his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, and in that moment, it feels like you’ve known Joel much longer than you have at all. Like this isn’t your first time on his boat, and this wasn’t his first time being in your mouth. “Alright,” you begrudgingly smile at him. “Whatever you say, old man.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he starts the engine.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #✏️ game club

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frracturedjaw · 1 year

Note

Hi Hope u already did one but maybe s/o sleeping without pants because it's hot af and I am dying here :,)

Have a great day/night/morning :D

unspecified so i just did a few short ones for bo, vinny, and tommy.

warning(s): a little suggestive in some places

a/n: sorry this took nearly four months teehee

bo sinclair

* he could care less about nudity. he grew up with brothers, louisiana is hotter than hell. he gets it. however…

* he sees you half naked in any context and his mind is already going two hundred miles an hour into everything he wants to do to you. zero filter zero hesitation.

* assuming you’re already asleep, he’s not going to act on those thoughts. but he’s definitely chewing his lip and gripping the front of his jeans like the pervert he is.

* when you groan and twist around on top of the sheets, something changes, though.

* he’s still imagining himself pressed up on you. but he’s thinking more about how your legs would feel tangled up with his own.

* the twin pumping of your hearts. the feel of your breath fanning across his chest. each other’s hands curled up into one another so hard that his knuckles get sore.

* he wants the marks he leaves on you to be not from his tools, his pliers or his tape or his knife, but from him. his skin on yours. the pressure of your weight on him.

* you wake when he drops his belt and it clinks loudly in the little bedroom. there’s a mild panic in your expression that makes his chest twinge.

* but when he slips into bed and you shift to press the entire length of your body against him. when you fit your chin over his shoulder and hook a leg over his hip. when your breathing returns to the slow in, pause, out.

* that night he dreams of the usual things. his parents, the tourists, the museum. but also of you. just you.

* you making breakfast

* you sitting on the back porch

* you laying with your head in his lap

* for the first night in a very long time, bo sinclair sleeps peacefully.

vincent sinclair

* you’d been wandering around the basement all day in an effort to stay cool, but all the hot wax made it fruitless. eventually you’d vanished upstairs to one of the empty bedrooms.

* he comes up to find you later on, finally peeling off his sweater and tying his hair back for a moment of relief.

* he walks into the bedroom and freezes at the threshold.

* you look straight from a botticelli painting. you look like Bouguereau. you look like Picou and Matisse and Klimt

* you look cut from marble and silk cloth, crystal and soft earth and sun

* you look like sky and sweet and home and being held and warm breath and moving water.

* his breath hitches when the bed creaks under his weight.

* he counts. you breathe two, three, four long lungfuls of the cool blue night air. then you reach up at him.

* vincent gathers you in his arms like you’re quicksilver. like you’re going to dissolve through the bed and deep into the earth if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. like he’ll die without you.

* (he’s convinced he might)

thomas hewitt

* he’s wracked with guilt when he first walks in on you asleep without all your clothes on. Luda Mae taught him better than this.

* but… you’re in his bed.

* he has half the mind to go sleep on the couch, but the heat would be even worse downstairs.

* he says a quick prayer for forgiveness and walks in with his eyes averted and does his best to go about his business getting ready for bed.

* he himself usually sleeps in just a shirt and boxers, but for whatever reason, you doing the same feels… intimate. you’re not exposed in that way, but at the same time, it’s still vulnerable.

* after standing (looming) over the bed for longer than is probably appropriate, he eases himself into bed beside you.

* his eyes wander to the tender apex of your thighs, admiring the soft flesh usually hidden from sight

* you adjust in your sleep, rolling to your back. he watches the lengths of muscle in your legs flex, then relax. your shirt rides up somewhat, revealing more supple skin

* he squeezes his eyes shut and leans back. he shouldn’t be taking advantage of the situation like this. if he has any respect for you, he should be showing it here.

* he tucks his hands underneath his legs for good measure and examines the speckled darkness behind his eyelids until sleep finds him.

* naturally, he wakes up the next morning with you on top of him.

* your head is turned to the side, your ear to his chest. your limbs have fallen to either side of him, but his shirt is clutched tight in one of your hands.

* where your skin meets his, he doesn’t feel the usual startling, crackling sensation of being touched without warning.

* he just feels warm. weight. the pink mark on the side of your face where you’ve been pressed against him makes his mouth twitch with a smile.

#slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slashers x reader #house of wax #thomas hewitt #slashers #thomas hewitt x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader

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erwinsvow · 2 months

Text

when rafe meets you for the first time, he feels something he’s never felt before. you’re surrounded by your pogue friends and his stupid sister, laughing at a joke jj says, pushing pope’s arm gently, making a face at kie. he stares, lost in his own mind, wondering what the hell they’re saying to make you laugh like that, make you smile like that.

he’s leering, he knows—wishing he could pull his gaze away but having more trouble doing so than he expected. you smile all pretty at your friends, lips pink and glossy, shining in the sun enough that he can see from where’s sitting. a beer rests in his hand, droplets of condensation gathering on his fingers. he can’t drink though, he’s too distracted.

the way you twist your hair up and clip it with something silver. the sweat gathering on your neck, along your hairline, how you wipe it with the back of your hand. one of the boys—he can’t tell which one, and he’s glad, otherwise he’d probably go over there and start throwing punches—offers you a hand to guide you into the water, presumably to cool off.

you shake your head to say no, and sweetly is the only word he can think of to describe how you do it. to describe you, everything about you—it’s so fucking sweet, he can taste it from over here. some of the others go into the water. you stay sprawled out on your beach chair, book resting on your stomach. you fiddle with the straps of your bikini top, yellow—that’s all he can make out—before you stand up, settling the book on the chair and walking towards him.

he’s under the shade of the little bar on the beach, watching shamelessly, thinking he should look away now that you’re walking over, at least try to play it cool. he doesn’t. he takes a long sip of his beer, putting it down with a slam, harder than he intended.

as soon as you enter the cool shade, you sigh with relief. you take out the clip and let your hair fall down how it was, strands sticking to your neck where he wishes he could lick it off. you’re not two feet from him now, can’t really ignore how he’s staring at you either.

“can i get a lemonade, please?” you ask the bartender politely, glancing over quickly at rafe. he’s still looking, making you flush and feel even hotter all over. you turn away within a few seconds.

“spiked?” the man behind the counter asks. rafe does move his gaze, finally, to stare at the guy—trying to make sure he’s not making you feel uncomfortable.

you shake your head and the bartender turns back to get your drink. your eyes keep wandering back to rafe—big, bad, evil rafe. the one your friends always talk about. he’s cruel, they say, violent and angry and treats them badly. just for the principle of the thing, you should hate him. so why can’t you stop your eyes from flitting back to him every few seconds?

“that’s a good idea,” rafe starts. he’s quiet, just so the two of you can hear him, but you have to lean in further. the gap is shortened to just a foot now.

“hm?” you question innocently, not hearing exactly what he said. you’re surprised he’s even talking to you.

“s’good idea, not to get it spiked. with this sun, you’ll get sick an' tired.”

“but you’re drinking,” you comment, gesturing to the beer in his hand. it looks almost empty.

“i’m not a fucking lightweight, though, that’s the difference.” he turns to see the bartender, chopping up a lemon for your drink. he thinks he has another minute, maybe two, with you.

“how d’you figure that? you don’t even know me.”

“you can just tell.”

“yeah?”

“yeah, kid.” he holds eye contact for a second too long, and you turn away smiling, face feeling so hot, like you’ve been basking in the sun for hours. rafe thinks mission accomplished for a second, smirking, but it dissipates quickly—your drink is ready and he sees jj walking up to where you are.

“can i get a straw?” you ask again, smiling all friendly at the bartender. he grabs you one from behind the counter and peels the wrapper for you.

“kie’s not gonna like that,” jj says, smiling down at you. you look at rafe though, which makes his heart thud in his chest. he likes that, a lot, more than he should.

“well it’ll just be our little secret, then,” you say, thanking the bartender and then taking a sip of the cold drink.

“you ready?” jj asks, ignoring the entire situation in front of him.

“yeah, just need to pay-”

“i got it, kid,” rafe says, grabbing his wallet before you can move. you look at him curiously for a second, eyes big, pretty smile shining again.

“wow, how generous from the millionaire. c’mon,” jj says, and you get up but you don’t want to.

“thanks, rafe,” you say, even sweeter than before. he enjoys how your name rolls off his tongue, wishes he could hear you say it again.

“no problem,” he says quietly. jj puts his arm around your waist to guide you away, which would normally be enough to warrant at least a single punch, but you look back once, then twice, sneaking a glance back at rafe, still smiling big, bringing the straw to your mouth and sipping. “i’ll be seeing you around," he says, under his breath, just to himself.

#hmmm what is this? who knows #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #the implication of the clip is that reader has hair long enough for it im sorry!#please ignore if this doesnt apply to u. in that case it's a barrette. rafe just doesnt know what that is.

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msbyslilbimbo · 5 months

Text

toji!!! with a piss kink who is so mean to you :(

he forces you to drink water bottle after water bottle, lemonade after lemonade, then only two hours later, when you try to sneak to the bathroom, immediately snarls at you "the hell you think yer going?"

"...bathroom?"

"i sure as hell don't remember telling you you could," he snaps, standing up and stomping over to you. you cower at his raging dominance, but you can't help but moan as he grips your chin in his meaty fingers and dragging your face closer, "in fact... you don't piss until i tell you to."

memories flood back at the last time he made such a command, and you whimper in distress and try to talk despite the smooshing of your cheeks, but all he does is smirk, "that's not a negotiation, brat."

"toji no please-"

"don't make me repeat myself."

and that's where it's left. you, whimpering and caught under his feet the entire day until he takes mercy.

there seems to be no mercy for you. you're not even sure if this isn't a punishment anymore, his cruelty is harder than it has been in weeks, and you're not even sure what you did.

when you're cuddling, a warm hand rests on your bladder, massaging slightly while you squirm in discomfort. when youre play wrestling, his hands dart under your arms and tickle you furiously, and you physically have to cross your legs in between shrieks to make him stop- which he almost doesn't in time, and you nearly sprayed the couch with everything your body holds.

close. too close.

and it continues for hours- drinking, massaging, another form of stimulation. drinking, massaging, another form of stimulation.

this is it. this is the time you're going to piss your pants. you're positive.

"'c'mere babygirl," he finally calls, and you shift over as quick as you can despite your circumstances. you give him a set of puppy eyes and he looks you up and down. he smirks, "you look so defeated. is not letting you piss yourself really so bad you could cry? is that it?"

"you're so mean," you whimper.

"you don't even want to know how mean i can be, dollface. knees." his dark eyes flick at the floor, and you take a grounding breath and slowly sink to your knees in front of him. "i am impressed though," he confesses. "i thought for sure you'd've safe worded by now."

"i can't hold it anymore," you sniffle, stuck to the floor in fear of relieving yourself when you try to stand.

he gives you a dramatic sigh and steps forwards, making direct eye contact with you as the toe of his shoe kicks your knees apart. his shoe then makes the signals in your brain process on hyper drive and presses firmly, hard against your swollen bladder, nestled between your legs.

you sob. he smirks.

"pee. now, before i change my mind." the foot presses deeper, your bladder literally sloshes.

"i c-ant-"

"let it out, babyface."

"toji it hurts please-"

the foot on your bladder pressed harder, and you physically can't stop it. you let out an embarrassed wail and bury your face in your hands while you cry softly, the warm fluid slowly trickling past your pussy lips, over your thighs and onto the floor and into the gaps if tile. you can't even begin to try and look at him, so self-conscious and warmed by your own urine that slowly turns cold under the chill of night.

it takes minutes, literal minutes for the piss to stop dribbling from you, and the whole time, toji says nothing, merely watching your quivering frame on the floor and listening to the dripping of your fluids.

once you're finally done, you hear footsteps slowly approach and scoop you up, pressing a kiss to your temple and walking you down the hallway. you can't even imagine looking at him right now, completely withdrawn from his attentions. you're embarrassed, you're cold, and you would hate him, if you didn't love the praise he whispers in your ear afterwards.

"gets hotter every time," he assures, nudging the door of the bathroom open with his knee and placing you in the tub. "get undressed while the water warms up, i'll be in to clean you in a sec."

and you whimper and slowly remove your clothes, turning the knobs to let the cold water fill the tub before transforming to warm. in the other room, you hear him opening cabinets to clean your mess, and you let a shaky exhale out as you pile your wet clothes and pull the stopper on the tub.

for as feral as toji can be, you can't ignore the thump of arousal that brews as he cleans just a few rooms over, an arousal he'll degrade you for but ultimately relive you with.

you'd be lying if you wanted it another way fnfjfdnkwdjw

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exhaslo · 3 months

Note

Hey, if you're still taking requests, then can I request Farmer!reader x business man! Miguel? It can be nsft or fluff.

Ohhhhh, a different turn of events. I got just the idea for this!!!

Warning: None, just fluff

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun blazed brightly against the hot, humid sky. A large empty field that offered no sign of building to cool down in. The summer humidity making it hotter than it should be. Not a single breeze to give any sort of comfort either. It was truly a day from hell.

This was not how Miguel wanted his day to go. Currently, the business man was leaning against the hood of his car, cussing loudly. The motor broke down in the rental he got for an out of town trip. Now, not only was he late, but there was no sign of a town nearby.

Miguel was fucked.

Laughing to himself, Miguel claimed that this was why he never left the city. It was a damn good thing Lyla told him to bring a case of water and some food for the trip. Miguel had been broken down for hours now and not a single car had passed by.

"And there's no signal," Miguel hissed, tossing his phone into his car, "Fuck!"

It was a bad idea to walk too. Miguel forgot how far the last town was and who knows when the next one would be. Miguel could be walking for hours before spotting a sign. This was true bullshit.

--------

It had been another two hours and Miguel felt like he was going insane. Sitting on top of the roof of his car, Miguel sighed as he wiped his sweat with his tie. It was scorching. Miguel was afraid that the heat would take him at this rate.

Miguel groaned before immediately going silent. He furrowed his brows and stood. It sounded like there was a car coming. Finally. After hours of waiting! Hearing the sound of a car getting louder, Miguel stood on the roof of his car and looked around.

There, off in the distance, was you in your pick up truck. Miguel was relieved to finally see a human. Waving his arms around, Miguel sighed in relief as you came to a stop.

"Oof, how long you've been stuck there, pal?" You asked. Miguel shrugged,

"I've lost track. The sun was to my left when my car broke down," He told you. You sucked against your teeth,

""Yikes. Hop in, next town ain't for a while, but I got enough room for you to crash the night. I'll call my neighbor to pick up your car and get it fixed."

"Thank you. Just tell me the cost and I'll pay it," Miguel entered your truck, buckling up, "Money is no issue."

"From the city, huh?"

"Yes?"

"Got that city smell. I don't need money, my neighbor might. I just like to lend a helping hand,"

Miguel was hesitant, but appreciated the save anyway. It was a quiet ride as you sang to your music. Miguel focused on the area around him. The large farm land that stretched for miles. Honestly, he should have asked if you could take him to the next town, but the heat wasn't make him think straight.

"Do you work in these fields?"

"Yep. All of this land is mine and my family. I tend to the crop that we just passed, but had to watch the animals on my cousin's land for the day. Poor child is sick," You said with a chirp, "Ain't used to this?"

"No," Miguel said honestly, spotting a house in the distance, "Are you sure you're alright with taking a stranger into your home?"

"My dogs bite," You said almost too innocently before laughing, "I ain't no fool. I offer you shelter, but I do expect some help with a few things. Aside from that, you'll be in a guest house behind my main house. If you try to sneak into my house at night, not only will the dogs attack you but also my pigs."

"Pigs can attack?" Miguel asked, confused.

"Mine are very protective of their owner."

Miguel couldn't help but chuckle lowly. You were an interesting character. Honest, king and quite charming. As you pulled into the house, Miguel was surprised to see the mansion you owned. Who would have thought at a farmer would have such a nice home.

"Don't look too surprised. I make good money with my farms. Ain't as fancy looking as you city folk, but I make an honest living."

"I didn't say you don't." Miguel hummed and followed you to the guest house, "I won't lie, I am a little surprised. Now, what did you need help with. I would like to pay you back for giving me a place to stay the night."

You opened the door to the guest house and smiled towards Miguel. Giving him a small tour, you decided to let Miguel into your main home. Leading him into the kitchen, you took off your hat and boots, sighing in relief.

"All I ask in return is assistance with dinner," You smiled and handed Miguel a knife, "Do people in the city cook for themselves?"

"Wow, do all of you farmers look down on us?"

"No, just me." You teased, "You're not the first one from the city to break down on that road, but you are one of the only few to listen."

Miguel didn't have the heart to tell you that he was just exhausted after hours in the sun. To be honest, this was the most he spoke to strangers at all. Well, it was the least he could do since you did get him out of that situation.

----------

It was getting late. After Miguel helped you in the kitchen, you offered him a drink for a job well done. Miguel happily took your offer, but decided to shower in the guest house first. You did the same and cooed in relief once you got comfortable.

Planting yourself on your couch, you started to relax after a long, hard day of work. Your cats, dogs, piglets and ducklings all started to swarm into the living room, demanding your attention. You chuckled towards the crowd,

"You're all so needy today! What, don't like your momma's new friend? Is he that big and scary to you all?!"

"Animals do tend to fear me," Miguel said, knocking before entering your home, "Thank you again for your help."

"Happy to be of it. My neighbor called a bit ago, your car should be good by noon tomorrow."

Miguel thanked you again and took a seat across from you. Damn, he looked fine. There weren't many men your age in town, so you had slim pickings, but the city? Phew, Miguel was a fine catch, but how were you to charm him?

Pulling out the drinks, you offered Miguel first. You knew better than to let a stranger into your home, let alone a man, but there was something different about Miguel. Also, you weren't lying about your pets...they were all ready to pounce on him.

As the night continued, both you and Miguel started to have a few too many drinks. You shared some stories with him and visa versa. It started to feel more like a date if anything. One you were actually enjoying.

"C'mon city boy, tell me more about your fancy little woman. Ain't no way she can be real." You chuckled, nudging his side as a movie played. Miguel scoffed,

"I would introduce you to Lyla, but the signal out here isn't receiving well."

"Oh, sorry about that, let me connect you to my WIFI." You gasped, leaning over him to get your phone.

Miguel closed his eyes as your breasts pressed against his face for a moment. His face heating up slightly upon contact.

"Where's your phone?"

"Here," Miguel muttered, avoiding eye contact with you, "Just don't touch anything but the WIFI. I have important folders in there."

"I won't," You replied, "There."

"Lyla?" Miguel sighed.

You gasped in awe as Lyla appeared in front of Miguel. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the tiny AI. Lyla just smiled as she started to observe you.

"Migueeeeeel, you should have just said you were finally spending time with a girl than going offline~" She cooed. Miguel flinched,

"I was offline!" He hissed and tried shooing Lyla away.

"Fiiiine, I'll leave you two alone."

Miguel groaned lowly as he covered his face before taking another shot of vodka. You glanced at Miguel, resisting a chuckle since you were in the same boat. Taking another shot yourself, you nudged Miguel's side once more.

"So even in the big city there aren't that many fish, huh?" Miguel chuckled as he leaned back,

"Guess not. Had to leave to find a nice catch,"

"Oh?" You smiled brightly, feeling your heart skip a beat, "Well, if I recall I was the one with the fishing rod."

Miguel's lips cracked into a smile as he listened to you. You were truly something else. Feeling something crawl onto his lap, Miguel noticed your pets starting to cozy up to him.

"I suppose you were."

--------

Miguel stared at his rental car with contempt. While he was ready to return to his work and apologize to his partners for being late, Miguel also wanted to stay. He quite enjoyed the peace and quite you had offered him.

"Have I made that much of an impact?" You teased, leaning against his car, "I could always use an extra worker,"

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't believe my company could afford me leaving," Miguel hummed and approached you, "But, I may have to take this road again...soon."

"Oh? Then I better keep a look out for a poor soul in need of saving."

"You just might have too."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel x you

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

Hi daisy (i hope im right on your name) this has been on my mind for a while jake seresin and you going to take a shower and him joining you the water being to hot and you can tell hes not enjoying it "change the water to what you like " and it being fucking cold as hell and maybe he has a 3 in 1 and you forcing him to use your stuff"i dont want to smell like vanilla coconuts" "thats too damn bad you putting that shit on your hair is gonna make your hairline received by the time you're 45" and him allowing you too

You'd envisioned something sexier showering with Jake for the first time. Maybe something to do with being pressed against the tile wall. Well, you are pressed against the tile wall, but it's because Jake has dropped his shampoo (that's also his conditioner and his bodywash), and he has to bend over in the middle of the stall to retrieve it.

"Okay," You grimace as his feet shift backwards, and he smashes you even further against the wall, "This shower is not big enough for two people."

"We can make it work," Jake insists, but when he finally straightens up, moving back into the water's line of spray, he hisses in pain.

"Jesus," He gripes, clutching at his chest, "Do you think the water could be a bit hotter, darlin'? Don't think it quite fried my nipples this time."

"It's not that hot!" You insist, standing comfortably in the stream, "But if it really bothers you, Jake, just turn it to whatever temperature you want. I don't care."

You do care, it turns out. You'd been expecting him to squeak the 'cold' knob further to the right, but when he cranks the 'hot' off and swivels the 'cold' all the way on, you gasp.

"Ah- Jake!" You squeal, chills erupting over your flesh as the water runs ice cold, "Are you fucking insane? If I wanted to take the polar plunge I'd dive into the arctic ocean!"

"It's not that cold," He scoffs, squirting some of his 3-in-1 abomination into his hands, "Besides, 'thought you didn't care."

"I care," You gush, reaching for the knobs and adjusting them to be equal hot and cold. It's a bland, unfeeling temperature, but it's better than frosting over.

Your final straw is when Jake drags the same handful of soap from his armpit to his scalp. You watch in horror as he lathers in bubbles that he'd just smeared under his arms, reaching behind you for your own shampoo like it's a cross that can repel whatever evil spirits reside in Jake's bottle.

"Rinse that out now," You order, and he looks up at you bewildered.

"What?"

"Rinse that out," You insist, and when he's still frozen, you huff and do it for him. You spray him with the shower head at point blank range, successfully ridding his hair of the lackluster shampoo. He splutters and scoffs at the water in his eyes but he manages to wrestle the sprayer away from you, blinking his wet lashes open to glare at you.

"What was that about?"

"I'm washing your hair," You decide, smearing your hands together and spreading shampoo onto each palm, "That stuff doesn't work, you know that, right? Shampoo and conditioner work in opposite ways, so combining them makes them both ineffective. And would you use conditioner to wash your body?"

"No," He grumbles, and you press a kiss to his soaking wet cheek as a reward.

"Good," You hum, reaching for his scalp and lathering in your shampoo.

"Oh," He laments, "Now I'm gonna smell like lavender."

You let out a teasing giggle, scratching just right at his scalp so that his frown drops and his eyes flutter momentarily shut, "You'll be the prettiest flower in your field."

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macfrog · 8 days

Note

hi queenie, love of my life 😌 i’d like to ask the following for 🩵: d’you think there was ever a moment where joel really thought holy shit. she drives me insane… i gotta fuck her. ???

(rly hoping there was 😌)

ily, sister! thanks for the gif. feeling really. normal. about him. right now. oh, yeah. he had his moments. let's get into it.

compensation 1.1k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵 warnings: literally just joel masturbating to the thought of his neighbor. good shit.

she can’t have been older than twenty-five, when she moved in.

hell, she’s not even thirty yet, as it is. she’s too fucking –

you’re too fucking young for him, and that’s the end of that.

at least – that’s what joel’s telling himself, trapped on your front porch. watching you relive the story of the ups driver who almost wouldn't let you sign for his package.

doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, and not the thin tank top you’re wearing.

“…she’s like, how do i know you’re gonna get this to him? i’m like, uh, what the fuck do i want with my boring ass neighbor’s mail? no offense, joel. but c’mon. i’m literally signing for it. anyways.”

you turn, bending down for the box by the stairs, and joel drags his eyes upwards.

his hand shakes at his side. jaw ticks, watching you turn back, the package leaning against your front. your breasts – oh, jesus.

he swallows. his throat feels like carpet burn.

“’s heavy,” you mutter, edging towards him. “rock collecting?”

“mind your business,” joel clips, slipping his hands around the box. the back of his wrists brush against the swell of your breasts, and he stares so intensely at his own address on the label that he hopes it’s burned forever into his vision.

you huff as the weight passes into his hands. a little sigh.

something twitches beneath his belt buckle.

joel sits the box on his hip. “well, thanks for this. and for calling me boring.”

you cross your arms. it only pushes your tits up more. “stay humble, old man.”

he should walk away. right now. he should take his package, and his pride, and the fucking rock in his jeans – and head on home.

but then you slump against the doorpost, one ankle crossing over the other, and say, “s’posed to get pretty hot this summer.”

“’s already pretty hot.”

“hotter, jackass. they’re sayin’ record temperatures.”

“they say that every year.”

you poke at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. the way you always do, when you’re trying to annoy him.

and it’s working.

“actually, uh –” joel shifts between feet, “– i was gonna ask you a favor.”

“mhm?”

his gaze trickles down your figure. each curve and swell of supple skin. the shorts he’s getting a little too used to seeing you in, too used to looking for. your bare legs, and the glow of sun on them.

when he looks back up, you’re smirking at him.

christ, he wants to wipe that smirk clean off your face. wants to twist it into something darker, something…something louder, and filthier, and –

“joel. hellooo?”

you wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps back.

“huh? oh, shit. sorry – i, uh…” a flush rises like an inferno up his neck. he shakes his head, fighting it off. “yeah. a favor.”

“you good? don’t pass out on my porch,” you warn. “wait until you’re back on your own land to do that.”

he breathes a laugh – panting, almost. “i’m good. i just – i need someone to water my, uh – my plants. i’m outta town next week, visitin’ my brother. if you wouldn’t mind…”

he feels like a fucking moron when he finally meets your eye again.

you blink back at him, frowning. head tipped, looking him up and down. “i don’t mind,” you say, something cautious in your voice, “but i expect generous compensation for my time.”

“compensation,” joel agrees, nodding. he’d do anything to be off this goddamn porch right now. “how about i’ll owe you one?”

“works for me.”

“alright. thank you, again,” he holds the package up, “and, uh – i’ll see ya.”

he’s gone before he hears your response.

too young. she’s too young. you’re so young. goddamn it.

you drive him fucking insane. you and your little shorts, the simper on your face. he swears he could see through the white of your top, two perfect circles where –

oh, fuck.

he spills into his bathroom, a heavy hand slamming down on the valve. the water roars from the showerhead, louder than the blood in his ears.

joel hauls his tee over his shoulders, the fabric peeling from his muscles and crumpling in a damp pile on the floor. he shucks the rest of his clothes off, kicking them to the side, and steps straight into the cubicle.

he looks down, and – fucking hell.

his cock sways between his legs, all rosy and already dripping. he can feel his pulse hammering at his tip; hisses when the stream sprays over it.

his hand lifts, curving around air.

shit, he just wants to touch himself. wants to relieve the ache between his hips. he has to.

he balls his fists against the tiled wall. his head drops low between his shoulders. the water pours down over him, pastes his dark hair in soaking flicks around his face. he can taste the salt of sweat and sun as it slips from his skin.

once. if he only did it once, would it matter? he’s hard now, anyways. there’s a quick fix.

you just – you caught him off-guard. he only went over there to pick up a package. he didn’t fucking know you’d be – oh, christ – he didn’t know you’d be in that shirt. no bra, no nothing beneath it.

he can still feel the plush of your tits on his knuckles. the way they moved as you leant against the doorframe. he can still see the summery shine on your skin.

he thinks about slipping his hands under the hem of your tank. up, up, up, across your smooth skin until he’s cupping them. squeezing them; circling his thumbs over the hardening peaks.

the short breaths from your lips, your smirk melted into a delicate o-shape. voiceless, nothing but whimpering and gasping when his teeth take your nipple.

before he even realizes it – he’s stroking his cock.

and quickly.

he groans, lips turning to his bicep. he bites down on the skin, hard.

he’d slip your shorts down your hips; see whatever slutty little panties you wear. he’d pull your thighs over his shoulders, unfold your sweet cunt and –

“shit,” joel pants, hips stuttering. his fingers splay out on the slippery tile.

you’re so infuriating. loudmouthed and fucking bratty. and he could shut you up, he knows he could. he’d sit you on his cock, wrapped perfectly around him, and fuck you dumb. fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, soaking mess.

fuck you with that scrap of a tank top on. tits bouncing beneath it, the fabric riding higher and higher until they’re exposed.

what a good fuckin’ girl, taking all of him. letting him split you open, letting him fuck you raw. so big he’ll leave an ache deep inside you; so hard that he makes you come three times over before he’s even close.

but – fuck, he’s close, right now.

“c’mon, baby,” he mutters into his skin. teeth gritted; fist so tight the skin threatens to split across his knuckles. “make me come, c’mon.”

it’d dribble from your cunt, and he’d push it straight back in. make damn sure you keep it all in there, make damn sure you’re walking around all full of him. the seam of your thighs slick, semen seeping into your panties.

“goddamn,” he groans, and with a throb, coats the shower wall.

his cock twitches, pulses until he’s empty. the ache begins to thaw.

he shuts the shower off, still massaging his softening dick as he steps back out. he lifts a towel and drags it across his tingling body.

and he swears, when he notices the sun dipping below your roof –

it will never happen again.

#another “short” one from me :) will i ever stop rambling about this man's dick #duckie's baby shower #🩵#mrsmando

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anonymouslosersworld · 1 year

Text

♡ Succubus♡

Prompt; Mc/reader armed with the teaching Solomon decided to mess around with magical creations and like Icarus flew too close to the sun before falling... in their case fell victim to horniness.

Fandom: Obey me shall me date

Characters: Mammon, Leviathan, Solomon, Simeon, and Barbatos.

Genre: Smut (M)

Contains: dubcon, unprotected sex, dom reader, sex toys, voyeurism??, and corruption kink.

Credit goes to @asmology . They have wonderful blog and written pieces. I was so in love with their charmed series and just wanted to try my hand at writing it myself. Please don't hesitate and check out their blogs.

[Obey me masterlist]

Prologue; After you had successfully enrolled in the sorcerers' academy and become Solomon's one and only apprentice after a couple of months. He had encouraged you to explore magical items and such. Due to many lonely and hot nights, you settled on magical items. Using your knowledge you created a life-like magical dildo/vibrator of your love interest. Unknowingly to you {or maybe knowingly you did but wouldn't admit it}it was also charmed with your love interest feeling whatever you did to it.

Mammon

He couldn't go out there. Not with whatever the hell was fucking him so well. He had the strongest grip on his couch causing him to ruffle the fabric of his couch. He panted as the feeling intensified with time.

"f-fuck~!"

His well-planned scheme was put on hold as he was getting dicked down on his very own couch. His cum dripped from his balls staining his expensive couch.

"mmph~" His cock pulsed his orgasm nearby.

His body felt hot with sweat accuminating. He was hitting the deepest parts he could, thrusting into the feeling that was fucking him. His shirt was ripped off of him as it kept getting hotter and hotter with each orgasm he gave you.

"fuck me~!"

He could feel his tip hitting a spot that made the walls trapping him pulse around him squirm as he continued his attack on them. He was hungry for another orgasm that you took from him.

The last one was more intense than the rest keeping his thighs trembling. With him more sensitive and panting for more. He knows that whatever was screwing with him woukdnt let up until they were done. Without his cum filling you up.

Leviathan

"w-what kind of n-no-oh normie crap is thisss~"

Levi struggles to say as his face is red with embarrassment. His fist slammed into his desk as the sudden inwrapped feeling on his cocks stimulated him.

He couldn't concentrate on his game or continue to play indifferently when he was getting fucked so thoroughly.

"g-gah~!"

What was worse was it happened in front of his very own live stream. He had yet to get off his stream refusing to neglect the newly released game.

Levi's body wiggles as a way to distract himself but instead made it worse for himself as he accidentally jutted his hips towards the lustful fucking.

"normie trap.f-fuck~!" Levi's forehead hit his desk as he finally couldn't keep it in any longer.

His tight grip destroyed his mouse leaving nothing but shards of plastic with his grasp.

Barbatos

Water trickled down Barbatos leg to his thigh as he raised his leg from the edge of the tub. The warm water undoing some of the knots that had been forming on his back. Little droplet of water formed at barbatos neck before cascading down to his chest into the water at his waist.

He sighed as he took a sip from the costly wine and enjoyed the bath salts he had recently acquired from a merchant. While he was grateful he had a day off and deemed it a good day to just do some well-earned pampering he was bored out of his mind. There was nothing to do.

No one to do.

His mind took him to you

"aah~!"

The glass of wine he had been holding had been crushed from his grip.

Something had wrapped itself around his cock completely engulfing his cock. It was warm and inviting. Whatever decided to land itself onto his cock seemed to clench and spasm around his length.

"ooh~"

Before barbatos could even think of dispelling whatever was happening to him, it had started to move. He bit his lip as the walls around him clenched him in and grinded into his cock. The pace was a bit slow but deep and barbatos couldn't help but enjoy whoever was dumb enough to fuck him.

His grip on the bathtub's edge tighten as the pace began to quicken. His cock was being used like a cheap sex toy, his pleasure was only second to whoever was fucking him. His back arched as his cock was overwhelmed by the sudden spasming of the walls trapping him.

"-ark~! m-more!~" barbatos moaned weakly as his head leaned on the tub. His fingers early working on his nipples wanting to cum and unstress himself already.

Barbatos whimpered as you worked through his orgasm. What a greedy thing you were.

Solomon

You wanted to mess with Solomon just as he messes with you. So you had enchanted a lollipop as well as a sex toy. You could already see that the toy you had shoved into your hole was affecting Solomon's performance.

To the normal eye, you couldn't see anything but to your Solomon-trained eye, you saw that he was getting fidgety. He was hyper-focused on the feeling of his cock. You smirk as you decide to teasingly clench around the toy.

Solomon bit his lip, his fist clenched as he tried to go on with his lesson before you put your plan into action. You unwrap your special lollipop with a smile as you watch Solomon struggle.

You lightly breathe on the lollipop causing shivers down Solomon's spine. Solomon lets out a whimper as you roll the lollipop in your mouth.

"Y-you don't play fair," Solomon grunts as he slides down almost giving into you.

"Whatever do you mean my wise Solomon?" You say as you straddle him on the floor he sat down on. You scrap the lollipop with your teeth. Your smirk was hard to miss clearly you were enjoying this.

"Nngh fuuck~"

" Do you like it, my dear Solomon? How do you feel? hm?~"

"F-feels- fuck! Intense."

"I'm going to make you my bitch Solomon. It's what I deserve."

Simeon

Simeon was taking a stroll with Raphael in the garden in the celestial realm finally coming from the exchange program. He was chatting with Raphael about his and luke's experiences with Devildom before he felt just a whisper of something in his pants.

what was that?

His eyes widen as he felt a firm grip on his non-hard cock. Simeon's legs instinctually closed but it didn't stop the grip on his cock. His cheeks felt warm as the hand on his cock felt him up.

He quickly dismissed himself to the closest secluded room near him. Whatever was in his pants was just solely focused on his cock and seemed genuinely happy in fisting his cock with their hand.

Simeon sat on the toilet as the feeling faded.

Maybe he imagined it? Maybe all he needed was to air himself out?

Simeon unbuckled his pants and pulled them off mid-thigh. The air made his cock feel a little sensitive to the cold temperature.

"A-ah~!!!" In the freedom of the restroom, Simeon finally let out the moans trapped in his throat while you took his cock within your mouth shoving him the deepest you could before going back to slurping his tip.

The slimy tongue had encircled the tip of his cock making him feel the entire length of it . Simeon panted as he was tormented by whatever clung to him in devildom.

"p-please mercy~! I c-can't take it." Simeon begged the tight coil in his stomach tighten and he didn't know what it meant. He didn't know what or who he was begging to but his beg was answered.

"g-god~! So-oh~ good!"

His cock pulsed as his cum splattered around him and onto his clothes. His thighs trembled from the intensity of his first orgasm.

Requests are open! Feel free to request!

My works are only posted here! If you see any of my work anywhere else please report it.

Do not edit, translate or repost my work without my consent.

#sub obey me #obey me smut #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me simeon #sub mammon #sub leviathan #sub barbatos #sub simeon #sub solomon

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auras-moonstone · 2 months

Text

passionate as sin — ethan landry

word count: 2.6k

pairing: camp counselor!ethan landry x camp counselor!fem!reader

summary: ethan and y/n find out that kissing is more passionate when hatred is involved and fraternising is considered a sin.

warnings: none!

The rivalry between Garden Gate Camp and Holiday House Camp was something exciting for the campers and dreading for the owners. Y/N's family camp had existed for way too long, due to it being a family legacy. And then, just a few short years ago, the Landrys appeared in the picture to make their lives a mess by setting their camp right next to theirs. While the newest one was more advanced and modern, the other one was cozier and homier.

To summerise it, the business competition created hatred and enmity between these two families, especially between the dads—although Y/N and Ethan came in close second.

The two teenagers have spent their summers arguing and pulling pranks on each other ever since they met. One would think that now, being 20-year-olds, they would've grown out of a prank war that started when they were 15.

"Nice shirt! Your dad will love it." the curly-haired boy laughed once Y/N stepped out of the dressing room.

"You're a pervert, I was showering!" Y/N hit him with her wet towel, causing him to whimper in pain.

The boy had sneaked into the dressing room and changed her Garden Gate Camp counselor t-shirt for a Holiday House Camp one. "Don't worry, I made sure to hear the water running before I got in. Let me take a pic, this will be good for our socials."

"You put your phone near my face and I'll make you swallow it." Y/N said between gritted teeth.

"Fine, fine." he put his phone back on his pocket. "You look good in that shirt."

"You could've at least given me the right size." she groaned as she tried to fix the shirt that barely reached her belly button and was tight as leather. "I don't think I can get out of it. For real."

"I'll gladly help you with that." Ethan smirked, which motivated her to hit him with the heavy towel again. "Ouch! Y/N, it's a wet towel, it fucking hurts."

"That's why I'm hitting you with it, Einstein!"

"Whatever." Ethan said rubbing his arm. "There's a party tonight, at my camp. You and your friend are invited."

Y/N frowned. "First of all, why the hell are you inviting me? Second, I'd rather die than get caught at your stupid party."

"I'm not inviting you because I want to." he scoffed, as if the implication of wanting her there was ridiculous. "My friend, Anika, is interested in your friend Mindy and she asked me to invite her. I assume she wouldn't like going alone, so you can go too, I guess."

"So thoughtful." she rolled her eyes. "No promises."

"So you won't go?" Ethan asked.

Y/N's shoulders slumped. "I guess I will, but just because Mindy is interested in her too."

"Awesome." the boy said with fake enthusiasm. "Party starts at midnight."

"Can't wait." she showed him her fakest smile.

"By the way, I wasn't lying. You really do look good in that shirt." he said before leaving.

Y/N walked away, cheeks on fire. He was an irritating, infuriating, exhasperating asshole. But he was also hotter than hell, which made him even more annoying because she couldn't help but feel heated by his words.

Y/N and Mindy managed to sneak in through the fence that separated both camps. The owner's daughter still couldn't comprehend why it had been necessary for the Landrys to set a camp just right next to another one. But oh well, it was what it was.

"There they are." Y/N tilted her head towards Anika and Ethan, who were doing their job as counselors in one corner.

"Hey, thanks for doing this." Mindy said as they made their way to them.

“Of course, Minds. I know how much you like her.”

“I was hoping you’d change your mind.” Ethan spoke with an exaggerated tone of disappointment when the girls reached them.

“And pass the opportunity to annoy you in your own territory? No way.” Y/N flashed him a venomous smile before turning to Anika. “Hey, Ani. Nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Y/N/N” she smiled sweetly. Despite the rivalry Y/N had with her friend, she had always been super kind to Anika. “Want to dance, Minds?”

“Sure.” Mindy looked at Y/N, silently asking her if she was okay with it. Y/N sent her a subtle nod, and both girls got lost amongst the campers.

“They’re cute together.” Y/N said.

“They are.” Ethan agreed. He passed her a can of beer, which she thanked with a nod.

“You know, it took two people’s help to get me out of that shirt.”

“And sadly, I wasn’t one of them.” he made a clicking sound with his tongue while shaking his head.

“That’s the second time you mention wanting to get my shirt off me. Are you that desperate?” Y/N smirked, taking a sip of her drink.

Ethan eyed the way her throat moved as she swallowed “And you blush every time I mention it. Are you that desperate?” he mirrored her smirk and took a sip of his beer too. His lips were glistening, soaked by the drink, and for a moment the sight left Y/N in a trance.

She hadn’t noticed how tempting his lips were. They were round and full, and she got the sudden urge to trace them with her finger and feel how soft they were. Y/N looked up and their eyes met. Ethan had caught her eyeing his lips, but he didn’t look smug like she would’ve expected. Instead, he held her stare with intensity and she noticed them turn darker.

The air instantly got thick, their skins turned hot and breaths turned uneven. Their bodies stiffened, feeling their hearts accelerating and a swarm of electricity ran from the top of their heads right to the tip of their toes.

Their magnetic field grew stronger with the passing of seconds, until the mood was broken when something bumped against Y/N’s shoulder, making her fall into Ethan’s side.

“Shit, sorry. Tripped over my own feet.” the guy apologised. He was tall, though not as tall as Ethan. He had short dark brown hair that fell to the sides of his face like a curtain, and an amazing bone structure. He was handsome and Y/N wondered why that camp was filled with such good-looking people.

“It’s okay.” Y/N smiled weakly. She didn’t know if she should be glad or mad that the moment was ruined.

“I’m James, camp counselor.” the guy presented himself. He inspected her face carefully. “Wait, aren’t you Y/N? From Garden Gate?”

“Yup, if you tell anyone you saw me here, I’ll kill you.”

The boy laughed. It was deep and rough, extremely attractive. “My lips are sealed. But I’ll be extra careful if you accept dancing with me.”

Y/N could feel Ethan’s eyes on the side of her face, expectant to hear her answer. James was gorgeous, and in other circumstances she wouldn’t have hesitated, but right now she wasn’t dying to dance with him. On the other hand, if she stayed with Ethan, she’d have to acknowledge the strange moment that happened between them.

“Just for a bit, I’m not much for dancing.” she finally said. And when she felt Ethan’s stare on her back as she walked away with James, part of her regretted her decision.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan asked, leaning against the wall next to the doorframe, when Y/N exited the bathroom. She had excused herself from the dance floor, leaving James alone, and Ethan took his opportunity to get the irrational anger off his chest.

“You’ll have to be more specific, Landry.”

“You, dancing with James. Didn’t your father teach you not to fraternise with the enemy?” his jaw was clenched and his body burning with rage.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Anika is also fraternising with the enemy, yet I don’t see you mad over that.”

She had a point. Truth was, he had wanted to punch James so badly when he saw his hands gripping Y/N’s waist and the way she was smiling up at him as she swayed her hips in such an hypnotic way. Ethan didn’t know what was going on with him, but he knew that he and Y/N had an undeniable chemistry. And he wanted to dive into it.

“You’re right.” Ethan said after a few seconds.

“Great. Can you move?” Y/N asked, as his tall frame was blocking the door.

He didn’t budge. “You’re not going back to him.” Ethan stated calmly.

Y/N scoffed. “Why do you care if I go back to him or not?”

Ethan took a step closer, leaving them chest to chest. Y/N had to tilt her head up to look at him properly. Her confused eyes made contact with his darkened ones. The kind of dark that made Y/N’s insides melt. She set her hands on his hard chest, while his found her hips.

None of them knew who got rid of the distance, nor did they care. The only thing that mattered was that their lips were pressed together in one heated, breathtaking and passionate kiss.

They kissed like they were liberating the tension they had been accumulating through the years, like they were letting out the anger that every prank, insult, glare and hurtful comment had made them feel. They kissed like it was something they had been wanting to do for a long time and never realized—or never wanted to realize.

“Hate you so much.” Y/N slurred between kisses as she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him inside the bathroom, pining him to the now closed door. “You’re so good at this. I hate you.”

“I hate you more. Seeing you with someone else makes me furious, and I hate you for that.” he descended his kisses to her neck, collarbone and shoulders. Those kisses were softer and slower, as if he just wanted to feel her skin with his lips.

“I hate that your lips are soft and that I’m already addicted to them.” she said as she played with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“I hate how many times I’ve dreamt about this, and I hate even more that this is better than anything I’ve ever imagined.” he lifted her up and set her on the counter.

Y/N’s hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him even closer. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, it makes me so mad.”

“Tell me about it. Just my luck, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen is also the bane of my existence.” he squeezed the back of her neck.

“Good thing we found something to help us release our anger.” she bit his lip so hard that it drew blood.

“Asshole.” he cursed. Then, an idea passed through his mind and a grin appeared. Before Y/N could address the weird reaction, Ethan attacked her neck making her squirm.

“Ethan, what the fuck!”

“Have fun explaining that to your father, sweetheart.” he smiled devilishly. Stepping back, after giving her one more short kiss, he opened the bathroom door. “See you tomorrow.”

“This changes nothing, prank war is still on.” she said with a glare.

How he loved when she got all angry with him. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. But it does change things, we can still have our little rivalry, hate each other, but I’m the only one who gets to kiss those pretty lips, understood?”

“I don’t know.” she scrunched her nose and gave him teasing eyes. “I’m kinda curious to know how James kisses.”

“You can try, but we both know you’ll came back to me.”

Y/N was sure that was true, but she wasn’t going to admit that. “Oh, yeah? Why so confident?”

“Because our chemistry is unmatched. And because I know that if you truly wanted to know how James kisses, you would’ve already made a move. You always go for what you want.”

The fact that he knew her so well made Y/N’s heart go crazy. “Meet me tomorrow at the fence after 8pm?”

Ethan shook his head, and Y/N hid her disappointment. But then, he went and made her cheeks flush when he said, “That’s seems like eternity, need to see you earlier than that. Before breakfast? At the fence.”

Y/N tried not to smile. “Okay.”

Ethan couldn’t help himself, and walked towards her again to kiss her once more. Just one kiss and they were both turned into fools. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

The thing that started between them was like a sin. Their parents would never approve, but that’s what made it so passionate and exciting.

#ethan landry #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry fic #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x you #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry smut #ethan landry fanfiction #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion oneshot #jack champion imagine #jack champion fluff #jack champion #jack champion fanfic

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writingoddess1125 · 5 months

Note

Finished reading your Jessica Rabbit series and,

Knowing buggy, he is absolutely the type of man to wander ass backwards into getting a wife 10x hotter than him.

FALLING UPWARD!

As I call it! He courts a way too attractive of wife simply because he has failed right into her loving arms!

However I'll give credit were credit is due- He seems like quite the charmer ;3

Too Good

Buggy wrapped his arms around his gorgeous wife in their shared bed, a contented goofy smile playing on his lips as he holds you close. "You know," he chuckled, "I still can't believe I snagged someone as stunning as you. I mean, seriously! how did I get so lucky?"

You nestled closer, tracing circles on his blue fuzz chest "Oh please, you're the handsome one here. I'm the lucky one."

He shook his head dramtically, a playful glint in his eyes. "Hell No, you're way out of my league Doll. I must've done something right in a past life to end up with you."

You laughed, "Well, whatever it was, I'm grateful for it every day. Besides I still hold my stance your too handsome for me"

Buggy is silent for a few moments, before kissing the top of your head. Pausing as he takes in your scent and the warmth of your body.

"You're gorgeous in every way (Y/N)" he began "from the way your eyes light up when you're excited about something new to the way your laughter fills the room, making everything brighter."

His fingers tracing down your side as he wrapped himself tighter around you "And let's not forget the irresistible way your nose crinkles when you smile. It's like sunshine breaking through the clouds." You looking up at him, your heart fluttering at his gentle words.

"Buggy-" You breathlessly whisper.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, "Your kindness, your intelligence, and the way you carry yourself with such grace—each one of these things adds to your beauty. You're a masterpiece, my love, inside and out. One that is too good for me, but I'm forever greatful to have"

Your eyes water at his words, Leaning up to kiss him gently on the lips pouring every ounce of love you had into it as he happily returned the gesture.

"I love you Buggy Boo~" You whisper softly against his lips, him smiling against your own.

"I love you too Doll~"

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #Jessica Rabbit Effect #masterlist

342 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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