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#{ THE AMOUNT OF SHIT I HAVE TO STUDY FOR IS INSANE }

abouttofillhisshoes · 12 hours

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📚 would love to hear some of ur recs !!!!

oh my god wait wait i came prepared

Touch tank by @sugar-coat-it is my fucking go-to oh my god the amount of times ive reread this is concerning. such good prose and the build up and DIALOGUE (im such a slut for good dialogue) makes me want to rip my skin off /pos

Mine by @wreckedandpolemic is so. insanely good i'm not one for dom matty but this. this is where its at mate. The way you write him is so delicious and satisfying to read i cant even begin to put into words.

YNA // YFL by @drinkurkombucha oh my GOD stop stop fucking i cant do this. The emotional rollercoaster that was this fic still haunts my dreams AND writing. I've taken so much inspiration from them and their writing style, and a lot of MPIND comes from the absolute mess i was after i read this.

The Cellophane House // Lost boys by @vinylandcoffeecollection i need to DIE its not even funny. The amount of tears i shed over this two parter warrants me being compensated for like. emotional damages the angst is so angst here its written like a true novel. Such a icon their other work is also insanely good, please go read it i beg

@haveyouseenherlately her entire blurb masterlist needs to be bound into a fucking book im so serious. So talented i cant even begin to describe it.

@awellposhmagazine YOU LEGENDDD oh my god jaye she is sooo ughhhh i love her writing style so much especially in this blurb holy shit i actually had to take a nature walk after reading that

@toomuchracket her entire masterlist needs to be studied and analyzed oh my fucking christ. Office matty has such a special place in my heart please never kill him off, you're one of the greatest writers i've ever had the pleasure of reading.

@noacfslut we all know and love elle for her Mechanic Matty AU but dyou know what my absolute favourite is? Sleazy Janitor Matty SEDATE ME NOW OH MY GOD????? He's so. i cant do this elle you're amazing and your writing style is so vivid and your DIALOGUE let me die rq.

@abiiors just read the entire masterlist and let me yell at you about it then please xx. my personal fav is corruption do not SPEAK TO ME ABOUT IT holy shit a nature walk was definitely needed afterwards.

i cant even begin to name every single extraordinary writer i know, but everyone and anyone who puts out fics deserves to be on this list. You're all legendary and some of these fics, especially CH/YFL have truly affected me on a deeper, emotional level.

To all fic writers, thank you.

#why am i so emo at the end #but holy shit 75blr is filled with pure talent i cant even begin to list every single amazing writer here #lena speaks #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #the 1975 fanfiction #fic recs #tags are so out of order wow okay

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brunetterightsactivist · 7 months

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i think either my magnesium or multivitamins are giving me headaches but also i have no proof of this but when i forget to take them for a night i get a migraine the next day. soooo idk what that means for me

#i kind of want to abandon the multivitamins #i only take them for the iron anyway #they used to have a shit ton of biotin but they reformulated them i think #probably because there was a study that said insane amounts of biotin is actually linked to cancer oopsie...

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poetskings · 30 days

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@jegulus-microfic | April 18: sock | 1.6k

James is sexiled and decides to spend time with Regulus.

There’s a sock on the door knob.

It’s been a long day and James is tired and there’s a fucking sock on the door knob and if he listens close enough he can hear soft grunts.

He’s happy for Sirius and Remus, really, he is, he just wishes that they’d fuck at Remus’ every now and then, and at least keep it to the bedroom.

Sirius and James share a college flat with Peter, Marlene and Lily, so there aren’t many options when they’re all out. Today, James knows that Peter and Lily have chess club, and Marlene’s training for the women’s boat race, so it’s only him who’d be around.

He sighs and turns around, sending Regulus a text as he goes.

Been sexiled – your dorm free?

He’s walking before he’s received a response – he’s almost positive that the answer will be ‘yes’, and he hasn’t seen Regulus in a week, so they’re long overdue a catch up.

Their friendship was one of the more unexpected things to come out of Regulus bucking centuries of Black tradition and instead following in his brother’s footsteps, choosing Cambridge over Oxford. He settled in nicely to Corpus Christi, flying through his first few years as a history undergraduate while Sirius and James chose Trinity instead.

It took a while but slowly and tentatively Sirius and Regulus attempted to heal their relationship, strained by Regulus’ years at Harrow after Sirius packed up and left when he was sixteen, dropping out and enrolling at a local state school instead. They’re much better now; their barbs at each other aren’t quite as jagged. There’s love there, now, rather than just animosity.

As Regulus and Sirius attempted to mend their relationship, James and Remus had been called in early on to mediate, or sometimes it was Regulus’ friends, Evan and Barty, or even Pandora. From those early tentative meetings in neutral territory, new and interesting friendships bloomed, most of all between Regulus and James.

From early study sessions, it evolved into coffee dates and library outings, and when Remus and Sirius sorted their shit out it became even more frequent – the pair never make James feel like a third wheel, but nonetheless they deserve time to themselves, even if James would prefer for them not to fuck on every and any available surface in their dorm.

Regulus is a comforting presence for James; he doesn’t demand anything of him. James is naturally an extrovert; always the centre of a room, but sometimes he needs to recharge, and Regulus lets him do that. He reminds James of calm waters on a spring day, and whenever James needs to quiet his mind, he finds the youngest Black. He only hopes he offers Regulus some of the same comfort in return.

That, and maybe something more. Maybe he hopes that one day there’s a sock on his door knob, and that the reason is Regulus..

James is drawn out of his thoughts as his phone dings.

Sure – text me when you’re here, will come meet you

It’s a five-minute walk but James makes it there in two, calling Regulus to get him to buzz him in. He’s a familiar figure amongst the second years at Corpus, and he’s pretty sure a few of them will have also texted the youngest Black to alert him to James’ presence.

The college door opens and Regulus emerges, dressed in sweatpants and a Trinity rowing sweatshirt that James left last time he was over. He’s so lovely, James thinks, an impulse he doesn’t know how to control; isn’t sure he wants to control it.

“Sexiled, huh?” Regulus holds the door open as James steps through, falling into step with each other and walking up a flight of stairs to reach Regulus’ dorm. It’s empty, although that isn’t uncommon for Regulus. Barty and Evan hold unsociable hours, and Regulus, Pandora and Dorcas have a frankly insane amount of extracurriculars to attend, so they’re rarely together.

“There was a sock on the front door and I’m pretty sure I could hear noises so I didn’t want to risk it,” James says, settling himself in the kitchen, finding Regulus’ mug and a new one with a deer in glasses; a ‘congratulations’ for James’ performance in the inter-college boat races that’s become a permanent fixture in Regulus’ dorm.

He locates the teabags; Yorkshire for James, organic for Regulus, before turning back to the mugs.

“I don’t blame you – those two seem to spend more time fucking than not – it’s a minor miracle they get any work done,” Regulus chuckles, gently bumping James’ hip to get to the fridge, taking out his oat milk and James’ rice milk.

They settle into the routine like it’s second nature; they’re familiar with each other in a way that’s almost intimate. They stand together waiting for the kettle to boil, perhaps a bit too close for it to be entirely platonic, but James isn’t going to move away if Regulus doesn’t.

He always feels like they’re teetering on the edge of something more than what they are, something better, but for all of James’ bravery, he isn’t sure how to make the next move, and he doesn’t want to wreck this peace that Regulus and his brother have been working so hard on.

“So, how was your day?” Regulus asks, tilting his head to better look at James. He looks unbelievably soft in James’ jumper and James thinks that if he just moves his pinkie he can link it with Regulus’.

“Exhausting. I had rowing first thing and a few readings to do for my supervision that I’d completely missed,” James sighs. He loves his degree but he’s never been as organised as Regulus, who seems to have work done almost before it’s set. “Also, I spent a solid ten minutes looking for that jumper.”

A light blush creeps up Regulus’ cheeks at that. “Sorry, you left it here after practice last week so I washed it but completely forgot to text you.”

A smile falls across James’ face. “You’re fine, Reg, and besides, it suits you. I guess I should get myself a Corpus one to match, huh?” He smirks as the red of Regulus’ cheeks becomes more pronounced.

The kettle whistles and Regulus turns away from James to fill their cups. “James Potter, behave yourself.” He hip checks James again, this time with a bit more force. Except he doesn’t move back. He stays there, leaning against James, and James feels like his entire body’s a livewire.

The tightrope they’re walking is getting more taut, and James finds himself eager for the fall.

“But Regulus, dearest, where’s the fun in that?” He leans forward, entirely too close for it to be platonic, and Regulus is turning, turning-

“Ow! Fuck!” James forgot about the fact that Regulus was holding a kettle of boiling water, and he’s paying for that now. Water splashes over the counter as Regulus rushes to put the kettle down, taking James’ hand and leading him over to the tap.

He turns the cold water tap on, letting it flow over their entwined hands. He is too still, too silent, and James wants to go back to where they were. He wants the tightrope back. He wants to fall.

He can be brave, he thinks, if it means he gets to have something with Regulus.

Regulus is staring intently at their entwined hands, like it’s the most fascinating thing in the universe, and James breaks the silence.

“Reg-”

“What are we doing, James? We’ve been tiptoeing around each other for weeks and it’s driving me insane and I want to be around you all the time and I think I’m already half in love with you so I’d love if you can clear up what this is,” he states, false bravado injected into his tone, but James can hear the tremors. He’s so nervous, but so brave. Regulus Black, the Lion Heart.

It takes a while for the words to register in James’ head.

Oh.

James removes his hand from the running water, ignoring the slight sting and the inevitable burn that will be left. He cups Regulus’ cheek, forcing the younger boy to look at him. Regulus is terrified, but so hopeful.

“Reg, I- I want-” James runs his hand through his hair in frustration. He can’t get his words out.

“Jamie?” Regulus’ voice is so soft, as though he’s worried he’ll scare James off, and the only thing James can do is kiss him.

Regulus’ lips are rough, a bit chapped from where he nibbles on them when he’s nervous. He tastes of tea and cinnamon and James wants to devour him. There is nothing soft about it. James’ tongue darts out, soothing Regulus’ lips, and the younger boy lets out a moan that’s pure filth and ecstasy and James is falling, falling, fallen.

He wants to do this forever.

His hands find their way to Regulus’ waist, tracing the skin underneath the Trinity sweater that’s been driving James insane since he first saw Regulus wearing it. It’s his, it’s him.

They break apart to breathe and James attaches his lips to Regulus’ neck, marking, claiming. He can’t think beyond this moment, beyond the boy in front of him.

“Jamie, we should- we need to-” he cuts himself off, broken sighs escaping his lips as he tangles his hands in James’ hair.

James reluctantly removes himself from Regulus’ neck, taking the boy’s face in his hands. “Do you want this, Reg? Do you want me?”

Regulus’ eyes trace James’ face, and whatever he sees softens him.

“Always, Jamie.” And James is lost.

They’ll talk about it later, as the sunlight paints the walls of Regulus’ room, but this is enough for now. For ever.

And if Barty finds a sock on the door knob when he comes back from the library, well, that’s between him and Regulus.

#jegulus #regulus black #James potter #starchaser #marauders #marauders era #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #dead gay wizards #si writes #will I ever figure out how to write a microfic that's actually micro? doubtful.

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hallowxiu · 4 months

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How the Brothers Would Deal with MC's Mortality

Mammon:

You casually brought it up as a joke

Probably something like “i’m here for a good time, not a long time” or “why should i care what happens in 100 years? It’s not like i’ll be around to care”

Would probably confuse Mammon at first as to why you wouldn’t be around, but he would put the pieces together in the middle of the night when trying to sleep.

A whole, eyes snapping wide opening and flinging out of his bed kind of moment.

Mammon would worry himself sick

Yes, he knows humans can die, hell, he used to mock you for being so frail when you first came to the Devildom, but now?

Well, now things are different. How he feels about you is different

He's spending all his money on ways to keep you kicking longer.

Anything he can think of that’ll help, he’s buying it. Vegetables, fruits, protein powder, comfortable clothes, a nice pillow, vitamins, shampoos- anything. He has no idea where to start, so he just starts grabbing everything.

I mean, something will have to help, right?

If you notice he looks panicked, don’t point it out, it’ll only make it worse. Unless you want to be smothered to death from his affection and worry, then by all means. ;)

Leviathan:

Look, he can barely handle his favorite anime characters dying, so you? Yeah, no, that’s way too much.

Nothing actually popped up to remind Leviathan of your mortality, it was because of Satan throwing his books all around the house that did it.

Suddenly, it was all he could think about. How did he not think of this before?

Leviathan is no Satan though, and he’s certainly not Lucifer. Researching medical documents and trying to think of things to keep you alive longer are a little over his head. That being said, there were some things he could do.

Leviathan dove into his own research that would be within his realm of understanding, studying that humans who have more positive mindsets and who are less exposed to depressing forms of media, may live longer than the average person. This- this was something he could work with.

Suddenly, you were constantly being invited to his room, Leviathan having a variety of slice-of-life anime for you to watch with him, all of which had happy endings to boot. If an anime was even remotely depressing, he made sure to keep that out of reach.

Video games? He’s keeping it safe; he’s not risking anything here. If it’s not similar to Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, Dreamlight Valley, or The Sims (which must be on a good day), you’re just not playing it. Kingdom Hearts if you’re lucky.

Satan:

Would do an insane amount of research

Likely overheard the topic on a news segment about the tragically short lifespans of humans before it all clicked together.

Satan, unlike the other brothers, has never experienced death before, so while it sounds silly, he never had reason to think of you dying.

Looks up humans who had long lifespans to see how he can implement those things into your lifestyle.

Books will be littered everywhere (although that’s not really unusual, but what is would be the topic of said books- The Long Lives of Humans, Human Lifestyle for Dummies 101, The Road to Human Immortality, etc. etc.)

This is when Satan learns just how easy it is for a human to kick the bucket.

Heart attacks, brain aneurysms, strokes, seizures, cancer, the list goes on and on and it’s starting to scare him. He didn’t know humans could just drop dead.

He’s going to start researching curses to increase your lifespan, or at the very least he’s going to make sure you’re careful as hell.

You won’t even get as much as a cut without him being aware of it; he’s going to hover around and mother hen the absolute shit out of you.

Try not to get too annoyed with him though, it all stems from good intentions.

Asmodeus:

He’ll be damned if his shopping partner for life is going to die on him.

Asmo isn’t stupid; if anything he’s pretty emotionally aware. He's known for a long time just how short the lifespan of humans is.

But still, it came in the form of a nightmare. One where he couldn’t save you, despite giving his best efforts. The way you died was tragic, long before your life should have ended.

This sent Asmo somewhat into a frenzied state trying to find things to keep you alive once he woke up.

Vitamins, vitamins, vitamins

Humans benefit from vitamins, right? Surely you’d benefit from Devildom vitamins then. If it’ll increase the lifespan of a demon, he sees no reason why it wouldn’t increase your lifespan.

Of course, it really only gives you nicer nails and shinier hair.

He’s 10x more intense with your morning and night routines.

He will be unloading all his facial creams on you, and telling you the benefits of each one and how it might add a few years to your lifespan.

You want to stay up late at night to finish homework? Maybe watch a movie? Yeah, no, not on Asmo’s watch.

Your ass is going to bed every night at 10pm, right along with him. You do realize you’ll be getting exactly 8 hours of sleep each night, too, right?

Beelzebub:

Regarding his trauma with Lilith, it came as no surprise when he started to fret over your well-being.

Poor Beel saw an article that discussed how tragically easy it is for a human to die. The cherry on top? How they could die from simply overeating.

Overeating isn’t a concept Beel is overly familiar with (because to him, it’s never overeating), and while he knew most people couldn’t keep up with his eating habits, he didn’t think it could actually cause harm to a human, let alone kill them.

Grocery trips are now a more anxiety-inducing event.

He’s suddenly paranoid that any of the Devildom food could and will kill you. Are you allergic to anything? How would you even know?

What if one day he serves you his favorite boiled dragonhead and you just drop dead at the dinner table?? No, that will never do.

There’s a list of Devildom foods that he knows for sure you can have without dying, but then comes the issue of portion control. How much is too much for a human?

Beelzebub swore he would never lose another loved one again, and it’s a promise he intends to keep. From now on, you will only eat what he deems safe.

You want to try a new food in the Devildom that you’ve never had before? You better get some seriously good convincing skills if you want him to cave in. For someone who only ever thinks with his stomach, he’s surprisingly stubborn.

Belphegor:

He’s still plagued with nightmares about Lilith, especially since he still thinks it’s his fault. Tack that on to the way he blamed you and the rest of the human race for it? The man is walking trauma.

Like Asmodeus, this was brought on by nightmares about you dying. Different from Asmo’s, however, you usually died by his hand. Naturally, considering your tumultuous history.

Belphegor, unlike his brothers, takes a different approach. He just doesn’t approach you at all.

What better way to keep your lifespan long than by staying away from you altogether?

Is it something that he wants? Of course not! But how can he trust himself to never hurt you again? To never kill you again.

He can’t.

So, he locks himself away in his room, sleeping most of the day or just avoiding the areas you normally like to lounge.

On a normal day, almost everyone in the household, including yourself, would notice this behavior change. However, since you’re now being cornered by all the brothers and their concerns about your lifespan, it’s easy for Belphegor’s absence to slip your mind.

This hurts Belphegor, but at the end of the day, he believes this is for the best.

Lucifer:

Lucifer didn’t need a reminder of your short lifespan; if anything, it’s something he’s thought plenty about.

Lucifer has trauma, we all know that much. After Lilith, he’s absolutely terrified of losing another loved one to something outside of his control.

And your lifespan is not something that’s out of his control. At least not how he sees it, anyway.

If you thought he was overbearing or overprotective before, brace yourself. He’s going to step it up several notches.

No excess of junk food, no more pulling all-nighters, no more sitting around the house gaming all day, and definitely no more overexerting your use of magic. He’s no fool, he knows the toll your magic could eventually take on your body.

Honestly? He wasn’t this bad until his brothers started to panic about your mortality, and though Lucifer told himself he was above such nonsense, he quickly found himself taking all the precautions they were taking (and then some).

Fortunately, if you find yourself becoming overwhelmed, they’ll be more than willing to listen to you (granted you take some of their concerns into account).

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fashion-runways · 7 months

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okay it's been over a year and i keep saying i'm going to make a new post and it's too exhausting to even think about the whole thing so i keep pushing it-- here's the link to the old post if you want a more detailed thing i wrote back then.

anyway, a year ago, out of the blue, our apartment got raided by the police, they broke our front door, they broke a bunch of shit inside, they took a bunch of our stuff, they barely gave us answers or an explanation, they took my dad and made it seem like he would have to sign some stuff and answer some questions and come back, but it's been over a year (since june 2022) and he hasn't come back, and his case is still up in the air. they're barely working on it. they didn't pay for all the shit they broke, they haven't returned all the shit they took, we had to spend a lot of money on that, i had to take a loan to buy a new computer so i could keep working and studying, on top of spending even more money on basic needs for my dad in jail and lawyers, plus blood pressure and anxiety medications, plus he's old and he was scheduled an eye surgery that he obviously couldn't go to so he's like, practically blind in one eye now, also new clothes for him to wear there (there's a bunch of rules for that), honestly i already lost track of how many things we had to pay for. it's been incredibly stressful and it still is even now that we've gotten used to it. he's been detained for a year for something that they still don't even know if he did and the case is barely moving, i don't know if they're like... i don't know, waiting for the man to die in there since he's already old so they don't have to admit they don't have enough proof for all the mess they made? i don't know. like i said back then, please don't ask me for details on the case or show up in my inbox trying to play tiktok true crime and guess what he did/didn't do. it happened a few times and it's extremely triggering, please don't. please.

this blog is basically my job. it's my primary source of income, i don't have anything else, no matter how many interviews i go to, in the country/city i live and in the state our economy is, if you don't have contacts it's impossible to get a job. i'm always signing up to free programs to learn new things while i don't have a job, try to make my cv bigger, but it doesn't matter. if you don't have someone saying “please hire my friend/family member” or you don't have 500 years of experience, they won't. so like i said, donations people make to this blog are how me and my mom (and my pets) stay afloat. it's what we use to pay for food, general groceries, transportation, electricity, wifi, water, gas, health insurance, stuff for my dad in jail, meds for my mom who has diabetes, food and meds for my pets. i don't go out much, i haven't gotten a haircut in a year, i barely spend money in anything that makes me happy except once in a blue moon when i stop feeling guilty lmao i had a redbubble account also that helped a little too, but last week it got suspended without an explanation as i was uploading new designs, so i don't even have that now. i made a new account on teepublic, but all my designs in high quality are locked behind redbubble and i can't even log into because of the suspension. it's... complicated, and it's a lot, but it is what it is.

i'm always keeping an eye out on new collections, new designers, new cool things. like i said, i love fashion, i studied fashion, and i know a lot of you use this blog as inspiration whether it's for yourselves or for your art, so i don't want to post all similar stuff all the time, i want to post all kinds of styles and brands as much as i can. which is why when i say if you like this blog, if you want to support me, sending even the smallest amount of money helps me keep going. living in latin america, the exchange rate is kind of insane, so truly any amount of money donated helps. unfortunately, i never stop needing money to survive and help keep my family afloat, but in the past year more than ever.

as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my (new) teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. if my redbubble account gets reinstated, i'll add that link eventually too. and as always, thanks for loving this blog and for loving fashion like i love fashion, even when i post crazy looking stuff, and thanks for helping. you have no idea how much your support helps, but it really does, i don't even know if i'd be alive right now if it wasn't for this blog.

#text posts #long post.

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hausofneptune · 5 months

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"spicy" takes / unpopular opinions

[astro notes no. 002]

IF IT DON’T APPLY LET IT FLY. everybody’s chart is different, if you have any aspects or placements mentioned in this post that don’t resonate with you, that means the energy didn’t manifest the way that i described due to other influences in your chart (or you being delusional, idk, you decide). also, when i speak on certain signs i'm referring to their archetype and the innate energy they express. just be mindful that there's a variety of ways these energies can manifest from person to person.

disclaimers | masterlist | ask

y’all stay talking about how hard scorpios have it but y’all don’t talk about the struggles capricorns face. especially capricorn moons?? have y’all ever encountered a capricorn moon that wasn’t in therapy or didn’t desperately need it??? they be facing the most insane level of emotional distress and then turn around and pick up more shifts and start studying harder like that shit finna help lmfao

the discourse surrounding 8H synastry is... odd to me. i feel like some people (specifically the tumblr/tiktok girlies) are romanticizing trauma bonding. y’all can talk about how good the sex is all y’all want, but unless you and the person involved have a good amount of self-awareness and are spiritually evolved enough (especially if y'all have your own 8H placements in your own charts), i feel like you’re just setting yourself up to be in a “toxic” relationship with somebody. it could just be my aqua venus talking, but the whole “baring your soul” to someone and developing a possessive/jealous bond with them don't sound fun to me. i would rather perish.

everyone talks about how dramatic your saturn return is but why does no one bring up how traumatic your 12H profection years are? being 23 was literally one of the most unhinged experiences i’ve ever had

i be tryna advocate for geminis because i know they’re just lil creative mercurial sponges and wanna have enough knowledge to see everything from every side… but why do some of them act like that? and you know what i mean. especially the more “unevolved” gemini placements, they be doing the most insane level of mental acrobatics and be contrarian just for the sake of being contrarian

i have to say this as an 8H moon, i understand what y’all mean when y’all say 8H, scorpio, and plutonian placements usually face a lot of vitriol from others for no reason, but honestly, some of y’all be using that as a justification for being paranoid and manipulative. operating from a place of pain, assuming that everybody is out to get you, and being hyper-vigilant of people’s intentions isn’t the type of behavior anyone should be trying to normalize. let that hurt go pookie <3

i feel like this has been spoken about before but i’ll never understand why water signs are constantly stereotyped as the emotional crybabies of the zodiac but fire signs aren’t? water signs can definitely be sensitive and existential but prominent fire placements will literally lose their mind over the smallest shit and then be cool 10 minutes later… yes i’m looking at you aries

speaking of aries, can we address the way that they’re literally the toddlers of the zodiac and very much so behave like it? idk as a pisces i have a soft spot for them, i love their childlike, carefree spirit, and the way they be throwing tantrums for fun tickles me

this note doesn’t pertain particularly to signs/placements but astrology in general. i am begging y’all (specifically the people who are newer/beginners to astrology) to use traditional studies as a starting point and to stop taking notes from these tiktoks and tumblr posts. there are astrologers on these platforms who have done the work and studied (love y'all), but there are a plethora who haven’t. i saw a post the other day where somebody said squares/oppositions don’t indicate conflict in a chart and i felt like i was losing my damn mind. i definitely recommend the astrology podcast as a starting point for beginners, chris brennan is amazing and i still find myself re-listening to a lot of his content

i talked to one of my mutuals the other day about this, but astrology is such an amazing tool, and y’all should use it for so much more than self-validation. y’all do not need to have a certain venus placement to be considered pretty. y'all do not need certain mercury or uranus placements to be considered intelligent/creative. y’all do not have to rely on [insert random asteroid here] to know what your future spouse is gonna look like, when/where y’all are gonna meet, how they’re gonna perceive you, etc. etc. etc. i understand the hype around shit like that is due to social conditioning/constructs, but there are so many more important, relevant things you can learn about yourself through astrology that don’t revolve around "aesthetics"

the girls are gonna hate me for this one, but i don’t understand the hype around lilith. and i say this as someone with a tight sextile between my sun and BML. there’s three versions of it, two of which don’t even technically exist, and then there’s a mean/true version that affects the accuracy. if anyone has more knowledge than me on the subject feel free to give me your input, because i feel like the insane amount of attention lilith gets has to do more with the whole “dark feminine archetype” trend that the tiktok/tumblr girlies love and less to do with its relevance from an astrology/astronomical lens (i feel this way about most asteroids honestly, but we’ll wake up that tea another time)

i don’t wanna get dragged so imma end this here, as always let me know if y’all have any aspects/placements mentioned and tell me how they manifest in your life/personality! and if you have any insight feel free to let me know as well. and don’t be messy. you will be blocked expeditiously. <3

click here to read part two!

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noproofread · 6 months

Text

King of the Pirates

this took fucking forever because i have been exhausted for the past 4 days but i finally finished it.

nothing is proof read and i was high while writing half of this😭

Luffy x afab!reader. penetration, fingering, oral (male recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), praise kink, inexperienced luffy, inappropriate use of gum gum powers.

word count: 1,818

You enter the kitchen of the Sunny, plastic bags in both hands carrying the insane amount of food you brought for the crew. Although most of it for Luffy. “Can anyone help me? This shit is heavy.” You whine as you look at Sanji. He floats over to help you, muttering a thousand compliments and scolding himself for allowing such a pretty delicate lady to carry all those bags. As if on cue, Luffy walks into the kitchen nose first. “Ahh, how did you know I was hungry? That smells delicious!” He exclaims as he snatches one of the bags from Sanji. You laugh at the straw hat pirate. “Well, you liberated yet another country so I figured your appetite would be insatiable. I bought at least 2 of those bags full of food for you.” You admit. You made it your mission to be Luffy’s favorite crew member. You knew it wasn’t a competition, you were all friends. You just loved when he thanked you, when he smiled because of you. You wanted to do everything for him.

You watched as he inhaled copious amounts of food, rarely stopping to breathe or take a sip of water. You didn’t even notice when the rest of the crew finished their meals and left the kitchen, leaving you two alone. Luffy finished his meal and shrunk in his chair, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Thank you for the food. That was very delicious.” Luffy smiled at you. You felt your stomach do a cartwheel. “Anything for you, Luffy.” you said as you massaged his shoulders. He relaxed to your touch. “All I ever want to do is make you happy. Make sure you are always taken care of.” You blabbed. You weren��t even sure if he was listening, but you didn’t care. Luffy threw his head back, making eye contact with you. You stopped massaging his shoulders and a faint blush washed over your face. He just looked at you blankly, sort of studying your reactions. Your breath hitched as you realized how close you were to him, and how nobody else was in the room. The blush on your face deepened and Luffy noticed. He grinned widely as he looked at you. “Why is your face so red?” He chuckled as he spoke. Luffy was never one to read the room correctly, you loved that about him.

“Oh um… I guess it’s because you’re looking at me like that…” You stuttered. Luffy turned around in the chair, sitting backwards on it. “Looking at you like what?” he asked, his eyes wide as he scanned your face. “I’m just looking at you normally.” He stated, cocking his head to the side. “Yeah well, it’s also how um… close you are…” You gulped, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you continued to talk to him without changing the distance between you. Luffy blinked at you and reached over to place a hand on your shoulder. He brought his face closer to yours, keeping eye contact. Your breathing accelerated and you felt nervous as you didn’t know what he was doing. Luffy smiled again and laughed lightly. “Hey, you seem nervous now. So I guess it is because of me… Why?” He questioned. You sighed, realizing that if you were going to get through to him, you would have to be blunt. You took a deep breath and looked at him for a moment. “Luffy… Can I try something? Something that might make you feel how I feel right now?”

Luffy looked at you slightly confused but nodded his head yes. “Alright.” He smiled. You made him turn around on the chair again and walked over to him, pulling the chair back so your body could fit between him and the edge of the table. You bit your lip and sat on his lap, facing him. Luffy gasped lightly and looked at you. You placed your hands on the backrest of the chair, your lips slightly parted as you leaned into him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. You pulled back to analyze Luffy’s reaction. His face was a soft shade of pink. You felt him shift under you, gasping as you felt something hard graze your thigh. You saw him bite his lips as his eyes met yours. “I feel uh…” Luffy started to speak before getting cut off by a groan escaping his lips. You began slowly grinding into him, feeling his arousal grow beneath you. You gasped, chasing more friction with the straw hat pirate. You feel a heat pool in your lower stomach, feeling hotter as you look at him. His eyes closed, focusing on the feeling of you on top of him, the feeling of your lips on his, trailing down to his jaw and his neck. Luffy felt overwhelmed with feeling. He found himself bucking his hips into yours, wanting more.

You hopped off his lap, earning a whine from Luffy. Kneeling in front of him, you reached to take off his shorts. Luffy’s eyes followed you, curious to what you were doing. You met his gaze, maintaining eye contact as you unclothed your captain. You noticed the bulge in his underwear grow. You smiled as you took off the last barrier keeping you from fully seeing Luffy. His dick sprung out, a bead of precum forming at the tip. You took the initiative to lick it off, earning a moan from Luffy. “What- Ahh” He threw his head back, moaning at the sensation of your tongue on his tip, moving down the shaft before making its way back to the tip. You smiled, seeing how he unraveled thanks to you. “You like that? You’re doing so good for me Luffy~” You cooed, biting your lip at how your touch had him reacting like this. He turned to look at you, a deep blush on his cheeks as he saw you. Feeling your breath so close to his cock, your hands on his thighs. His breathing was heavy, he felt hot.

“Look at how good you look, shivering at my touch.” You continued to talk as one of your hands moved to grab his cock, making Luffy groan and buck his hips at the contact. You take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to accommodate him. Luffy hisses and reaches for your hair. You’re almost surprised at his actions but you get distracted by the moans falling out of his lips. Luffy’s moans and whimpers are like music to your ears, you feel your own arousal pool at the bottom of your stomach. You reach over and grab Luffy’s hands. Feeling bold and impulsive to chase your own high, you place Luffy’s hands under your skirt, stretching his arm on the way. The feeling of Luffy’s fingers as you press them onto your clit is almost enough to send you over the edge. Luffy’s eyes had opened, you could see his eyes were asking you what to do. You locked eyes with him as you used his hand to rub your clit and bobbed your head up and down his cock. You pushed your panties to the side using Luffy’s hand before placing it back in its previous spot. You moaned on his dick as you felt Luffy’s fingers on your slit. The vibrations made Luffy push your head down, allowing his dick to enter your throat.

You gagged slightly. You decide to insert Luffy’s fingers into you, nudging him to pump them in and out of you. Luffy learned fast and he began exploring you with his fingers. He stretched them to reach deeper inside you. You start grinding your hips on his arm, your movements becoming sloppy as Luffy’s fingers continue to explore inside of you, hitting every spot. Hesitantly, you take Luffy out of your mouth. Luffy gasped at the sudden cold air now hitting his exposed erection. Whining, he looks down at you. “Why’d you stop?” You take his fingers out, shivering at the lack of contact. You smile at Luffy, making your way to sit on his lap again. He hisses as you grind your hips into his, making the shaft of his dick rub against your clit, coating it in your wetness. Soft moans fall from your lips, gripping onto Luffy’s shoulders.

Luffy closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of you rubbing onto him, how soft you felt and how you moaned his name. You took one hand off his shoulder and grabbed his dick, positioning it underneath you. You lowered yourself onto him, his dick disappearing inside you. A loud moan spilled from Luffy at the sensation around him. “Fuck, you feel so good inside me Luffy.” You breathe out in pleasure. Luffy’s eyes open and look at you. You begin riding Luffy, taking his hands and putting them on your hips. “Touch me however you want, Luffy…” You moan as you ride him. Luffy’s hands travel up and down your sides, he moves them towards your chest. You grab one of his hands and guide it under your shirt to cup your breast. He gasps, unable to form any sentences as his groans continue to emerge from him. “Just like that Luffy” you whisper, feeling his hand massage your breast on its own. He groans loudly at the sound of you moaning his name. “You’re doing so good, Luffy.” You pant, looking down at him. You lean down to his ear and whisper “Can you stretch it further?”

Luffy gasps, blushing deeper as he hears your words in his ear. You feel his dick travel deeper inside you, the feeling almost makes you lose yourself. “Fuck, Luffy~” You groan in his ear. “L-Like that?” Luffy whispers, struggling to speak. “Just like that, Luffy. Fuck~ you’re so good.” You moan, sinking your head into the crook of his neck. Your movements become messy against him, chasing that high. You feel Luffy's dick twitch inside you as his moans get louder. “Fuck me like the king of the pirates would” You groan in his ear again. Luffy bucks his hips into you, matching your speed. The sound of your moans together floods the room. Luffy feels you clamp around him as you reach your climax. You moan out Luffy’s name as you finish, causing the straw hat pirate to reach his own high. He fills you up with one last loud moan. You ride out your orgasm and kiss his neck as he catches his breath. Your own breathing is heavy as you feel his arms wrap around you. “That was- wow.” Luffy finds his voice. You look at him and place a gentle kiss on his lips. “You liked that? We can do that whenever you want. I’d do anything for the future king of the pirates.” You wink and chuckle, noticing Luffy smiling at you widely. “I’ll take you up on the offer.”

#monkey d luffy #one piece #one piece fic #one piece smut #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #x reader

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quickandsilvers · 3 months

Note

Consider: something like this w/Peter.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGed5Ysh5/

Like, Peter gets hurt on a mission and he comes back with just a couple bruises and he's like, "it's just a bruise, I was shot in my costume".

[Cue the touch bit here]

Idk, I'm just,,,,, thinking,,,,, 😳😳😳

A/N- I made this wayyy longer than it had to be but.. sue me? I decided to do Reader/Peter’s introduction too because why the hell not! Also, whats a fic of mine without smut, huh?

Medical Malpractice and Awkward Interactions🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT 🔥

Summary: Many times Peter Maximoff embarrasses himself in front of you, and one time you patch him up… and screw him against a shower wall. It’s standard first-aid procedure, right?

Warnings: slow burn (kinda), pining, blood, wounds, LOTS of sexual innuendoes, Nurse/Patient role-play, handjob, p in v, oral (Peter receiving), dirty talk, grinding, public humiliation, creampie, shower sex

Word Count: 9905

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 @pretzel-bunnie (Please ask if you want to be added/removed!)

—————————————————————————

For most of his thirty plus years of his life, Peter Maximoff considered himself as a relatively easy person to get along with. He had friends who were somewhat happy to have him as company, despite his overly-outgoing nature and lack of social cues.

Magda had raised him to the best of her ability, or at least until the damned speedster mutation kicked in at twelve. After school nights of pretend tea-parties with Wanda or playing kick-the-can with the neighborhood children turned into petty-theft and a challenge of sending poor mama Maximoff on the brink of insanity and financial instability.

So yeah, said mutation sorta sent Peter into a boisterous, thieving tailspin. But hey, at least he wasn’t a complete jackass.

He never smoked, never drank, and since joining the Xmen, Peter only stole things from major companies that wouldn’t notice it was missing in the first place; and occasionally the few Rainbow or Jimi Hendrix vinyls that caught his attention passing by. ‘No one’s perfect, prof!’ Peter would tell Xavier as he returned to the mansion, only to be greeted by an unimpressed shake of the head.

And yes, he did pay back the money his mother paid for the local police to keep the mass amount of snack cakes in his basement under wraps. Once again, Peter wasn’t a complete jackass.

But then, he met you. You were a fellow professor at Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Children, and were renowned across campus - if you weren't teaching music theory, you could either be found giving study sessions for students falling behind or making your famed lasagna bake whenever the Xmen came home from a mission - and you were loved for it.

And you were pretty. Like, shit! Hella pretty. Whether it was your skill at engaging everyone in your lectures or your jaw-droppingly gorgeous face, you held the unofficial record for the most loved on campus. Peter, as the school’s physical education teacher, was second place, and for once he didn't mind getting the silver medal.

He'd heard about you in the staff room one morning. All good things. A real glowing report card. Everyone loved you and for good reason, apparently. But you hadn’t met yet.

That was until Peter realized your class was in the morning and an hour before his PE lesson began, so he decided to snoop around to check out if you were as good as everyone said you were.

Arriving at the back of the classroom, Peter pushed his goggles up to his head, tufts of silvery soft hair coming with it.

And there you were in all your glory, sitting back on your desk and waving to everyone as they walked in, the occasional student getting 'Love your new look, Cynthia!', 'Ready for class, Michael?' or a giant grin and the sporadic finger guns.

Okay, so you were kind too. Kind and pretty. Kind and pretty and obviously smart enough to get a doctorate. Though, how hard was it to get a degree in music; what did you even have to know? Def Leppard formed back in ‘77, Neil Peart is the best drummer of all time, blah blah blah. Pssht, enter Peter into an exam and he’d have a degree in lickedey split!

The fact you had devoted your life to getting a music doctorate compelled Peter to wonder what your taste in said music was. Admittedly, he wasn’t so keen on the idea of you lecturing if Charles had formulated the curriculum himself. What did that old man even listen to? Peter found it hard to imagine his higher up rockin’ it out to Journey.. and God forbid- Black Sabbath?!

Definitely not. Xavier would be limited to the likes of Beethoven. Peter's skin crawled at the thought. Expand your horizons, you powdered-wig wearin’ maniacs!

No matter. If you did turn out to be some kind of sonata orchestral devotee, you wouldn’t be able to resist Peter’s charisma and persuasive techniques. Said persuasion would be helluva lot of nagging in your ear until you subsequently cave; and you would, because everyone does. And eventually you would join the light side of the force, and Peter would teach you the music ‘way of the jedi.’

"Hi! Hello everybody!" You greeted cheerfully and stood up, waving your arms around for emphasis. “It’s great to see you all back looking nice and refreshed!”

Peter normally would have snorted in irony. In most cases, an hour-long lecture at six am in the morning wouldn’t have people ready to learn and raring for the day ahead. In Xavier’s literature lectures, one could easily mistake the students to be flesh-eating, grumbling zombies who hadn’t seen a ray of sunlight in a millennium.

However, as he looked around the room from his seat in the very back, the students filing in had almost cheshire grins on their faces, smiling eagerly at your buzzing figure and sitting up straight in their seats.

Peter’s eyes flitted back to you. The bell bottom jeans you were wearing were dark and fit you perfectly, the flare swishing around as you slowly paced around the room. For the first couple of minutes, he didn't hear a thing you were saying because the swaying was far too distracting.

His eyes trailed upwards. A faux shearling collared leather jacket hung off your frame, belt loose at the hem and clashing against your hip when you took a step. You looked like something straight out of the 60s: and Peter was totally diggin’ it.

The zip was undone, allowing a slither of your t-shirt underneath to show the letters “ardbi” peaking out in a red font. His heart leapt. The Yardbirds, nice, and fitting. Right this second Peter’s walkman hummed the tune of ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton through his headphones. Quiet enough so he could hear your voice, but loud enough so his head could bop along to the instrumental. Shuffling in his seat, Peter adjusted his RUSH t-shirt, as if wanting him to catch your attention so you could strike up a conversation about it.

What would he say if you did? He needed to impress you, stat; before Scott could find you and chat you up with his extensive motorcycle knowledge that seemed to be all the rage nowadays. Pfft. RUSH was cooler anyways.

All in all, you didn't look like the stereotypical lecturer. Your outfit was far from professional attire, but it didn’t matter; the kids loved you.

Peter was addicted to all of you; from the browline glasses on your head to the Mary Janes on your feet. It was comforting.

"I know you’ve all been working so hard this past semester," you began, leaning against the podium casually, your arms folded as you eyed the students. "And the lovely gentleman that is Professor Xavier would never allow this, but I've decided we can allow ourselves a breath of fresh air and watch a film today."

Cheers and excited whispers rang out in the room as the students smiled impossibly harder, rushing to shove their textbooks into their bags so the film could start.

“Now hold on!” Your laugh graced Peter’s ears, holding your hands up to settle the class. “We haven’t yet discussed the film options! How do we feel about ‘Bobby deerfield’?”

Groans and scoffs resonated through the classroom, and a girl with pigtails a few rows in front of Peter spoke out. “You’re not kiddin’ anybody miss! Everybody knows that film is wack!”

You laughed and stood off the podium, moving towards the open window that was letting in a cold draft. “You know me too well, Jubilee. No one likes that film.” You bent over an empty desk to reach over, closing the window and turning the lock to the right “How about The Empire Strikes Back?”

In a moment of total stillness in the classroom, Peter let out a choked-off groan. Whether it was the sight of you bent over a desk or the mention of that god-tier film, he wasn’t all too sure.

Silence.

Peter knew he had royally embarrassed himself yet again when howls and giggles erupted in the classroom, some students convulsing in laughter and others wolf-whistling as you paused, turning to look back at him.

Jubilee turned around in her seat to stare at her PE teacher, ponytails swinging wildly as she covered her mouth with her hand and guffawed. Peter’s cheeks burned.

"Excited for the film are we, Mr Maximoff?" You quizzed, bemused.

Oh, you noticed too. Great. But you knew his name. Cool, less sarcastically speaking. You were both staff members of the same school so it wasn't that outlandish, but Peter’s stomach still flipped nonetheless.

"Yeh.. aha.. Erm- yunno Luke became a Jedi master in this film, right?" Peter blurted out instinctively, his thoughts in overload under your stare. He kissed his teeth and nodded his head in affirmation. “Pretty.. Pretty cool stuff.”

Congratulations, you thirty-somethin’ year old virgin. You have well and truly out-nerded yourself. This chick will certainly be beggin’ for you to burrow yourself between her thighs now.

Peter swallowed, waiting for someone to say something. Literally anything. All he was met with was muffled giggles and snorts echoing around him. He teaches people in this lecture, dim-wit! How were they gonna respect him and do laps in his classes now, O’ Jedi Master connoisseur?

You grinned sweetly, amused, silently waving your hand for your students to quieten down "Thank you for sharing that, Mr Maximoff, truly. Although I have seen this film before." You nodded in acknowledgement to his RUSH shirt and then returned your focus to the class before Peter could word vomit anything else.

You began to ramble on again. It made sense. Why would you pay attention to him when you had a job to do?

What could he do? Embarrass himself further by standing on his desk and demanding that you have a conversation that ends with you saying, 'Wow, Peter, you're so smart and fast and criminally handsome. Would you like to go to a record store so you can continue to impress me with the sheer amount of knowledge you have stored inside that adorable silver-haired noggin’ of yours?'

A mumble still traveled across the class, primarily because one of their teachers is a raging airhead, but you shushed them quickly by clapping your hands together. It was a casual movement, but one that got everyone's undivided attention again.

"Can anyone guess what year it came out?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the blur of a hand go up but you weren’t going to call on them, and so, Peter was left with his palm awkwardly facing towards the stage. You reiterated your question, "Can any of my students take a guess? Mr Maximoff, I'd appreciate it if you could give my class at least 2 minutes so they can discuss the answer."

Peter’s hand lowered slowly and he narrowed his eyes at the person snickering next to him.

“Don’t make me give yer extra laps next lesson, Christopher, the weather forecast ain’t lookin’ so good fer this Friday.”

Christopher abruptly stopped and faced back to you.

Once again, silence met your question until it was broken by a timid voice. A boy in the front row with curly brunette hair was looking at you unsure. You smiled encouragingly and nodded for him to speak up louder.

“1980?"

"Like always, Bobby, you are correct!" You exclaimed happily. Bobby blushed, embarrassed by the attention and compliment but smiling nonetheless as you moved on to another question. "The film came out in 1980. Does anyone know who it starred? Don’t be afraid to speak up!”

The film started soon after and for the entire time, Peter was completely transfixed by you. You leaned against the door and peered up at the projector screen, a smile on your face as you snuck a few handfuls of popcorn out of Bobby’s grasp as he watched the film intently. He now understood the enthusiastic compliments from the staff room, and why you were so loved by everyone. You were infectious.

He couldn't help himself, Peter found his eyes wandering over every part of your body, studying every inch of you before he'd had the chance to properly comprehend that he was being a creep. Appreciating beauty was one thing, leering at women he hadn't met before was another. Keep it in your pants, Maximoff.

As the students piled out of the lecture hall, all chatting loudly as they walked out, Peter waited. A group of girls surrounded you and asked you a bunch of questions, and you answered them all like you were their cool older sister rather than someone who was paid to teach them things. Then they left too, and you were alone.

"Did you enjoy the class, Mr Maximoff?" you asked kindly, a smile tugging at your lips as you turned around slightly. You sat on top of the nearest desk and folded your legs under yourself, resting your elbow on your knee and your head on your fist.

Blinking, Peter froze before nodding vigorously. So vigorous, in fact, that his goggles slid from his head down to the apex of his nose. He huffed in irritation and the exhaled breath fogged up his lenses completely. Peter bets he looks so irresistible right now.

Say something- think of something fast, moron! Isn’t that your whole gimmick? Impress her with your natural God-given charm!

Who are we kidding, this is Peter Maximoff. Master of the Jedi’s and embarrassing silences.

He wiped his goggles with the end of his shirt "I would think a music teacher would be lecturin’ about music, not films.. But yes, yer were- the film was.. very entertainin’."

Shit. Your lip twitched. Did he do somethin’ wrong? Of course he did- he just insulted a Professor’s lecturin’ to their face, ewok!

"You're a professor of...?"

"Err, I teach PE.. yunno.. I just make the kiddos run laps ‘n kick a ball around, basically." No shit, doofus! Maybe stop mansplainin’ what workin’ out is and apologize? “Fuck i’m so sorr-”

You cut him off with a simple wave of your hand, that gorgeous smile of yours decorating your face once again. “It’s alright, honest!” You say, observing his exasperated look as his mouth parts, ready to apologize “Jean told me that your mouth moves faster than your brain sometimes, I don’t take any offense to what you said.”

Peter sighs, relieved yet processing your words. “So, uh..” he hesitated, an awkward yet boastful smirk building then “Yer talk about me? All good things, I hope.”

You felt a heat rising to your face immediately and you looked around the room to avoid his intense stare, your eyes falling to another window you had yet to close. The cogs in your head turn and you whip around to face Peter, fanning yourself with your hand and beginning to shrug off your jacket. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” You faux panted, moving away from him to open the window like you needed a cold breeze.

Peter watched as you bent over, much closer now and able to see you from straight behind. His eyes grazed your body with a suggestive smirk.

“Just you, babe.”

Okay, babe?! Not helping your flushed state, at all!

You muffle your sputter by coughing, turning around once again and sitting on the desk. You watch as Peter walks up to you, standing close enough that his thighs force your legs a little wider around him.

The silence is unbearable, so you break it. “I mean, of course I've mentioned you once or twice, dude!” You chuckle nervously, “It’s hard to miss someone that looks like you speedin’ around the mansion.”

You register the confused shift in his gaze and now it’s your turn to run back on what you said, jumping in realization and your knee knocking into his trouser-clad outer thigh. “Not that you look weird in any way! I just meant the whole ‘silver’ aesthetic is totally bitchin’! And obviously I’ve heard about that whole Apocalypse fiasco in ‘84. It was really brave, what you did, and I can’t help but thank you for savin’ the whole world.. and whatever..”

You trail off as you babble yourself into a frenzy, Peter’s delighted grin humiliating you further as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Thanks, babe.” You let out a shuddery breath. Again?! Where was this confidence when he was making a fool out of himself not just a minute ago?

Peter gave in at your pleading gaze and stepped back, a sheepish smile on his face as he looked down to the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets. He swayed back and forth on his heels. “I better go anyway. Places to be, worlds to save.. Y’know how it is, babe.” The uneasiness on his features left as soon as it came, now replaced with a cocky smirk and a sly wink.

“Well, if you come back in one piece, maybe we could, I dunno, go out for a movie or somethin’?” You ask apprehensively “since you seem to like Star Wars so much.”

“Y-yeah!” Peter said almost too quickly, clearing his throat before gathering his thoughts and masking the elated grin battling to appear. “I mean, only if yer gonna be makin’ that lasagna, right?” He quipped, stomach rumbling at the thought.

You nodded in answer, grinning. “Just come stop by whenever you’re free and we’ll figure out a date, yeah?” Your eyes widened. “I mean date as in time!”

Peter wiggled his eyebrows again, speeding to the door and saluting you before making his way to the training room, fistbumping the air. Fuckin’ score!

For the remainder of the day, Peter couldn’t keep his mind off of you and the promised movie date you were set to have after his mission, uncontrollably vibrating in excitement whilst boarding the X-jet the day after.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe, yeah?” You ask him, standing on the runway as you smooth out the wrinkles in his uniform, your palm flat on his chest.

A broad grin spread across Peter’s face as he placed his own hand above yours, running his thumb smoothly over your skin.

“Don’t worry about little ol’ me, ‘kay? A promise is a promise, sweet-cheeks.”

——————————————————————————

Peter’s not a jackass. He would never intentionally go back on his word.

But that was a pretty damn hard promise to fulfill.

As soon as the jet landed four hours too late, Peter crashed into the living room couch, ignoring any questions of passers by for medical assistance. He practically melted into the linen cushions, exhaling deeply.

The kid previously sitting on the couch scowled as Peter stretched himself across the furniture, waving the younger student off with his hand. “I’m an Xman, I have the authority here.” The cushions muffled Peter’s grumble.

All in all, he wasn’t that hurt. In reality, the mission was fairly easy-going. Peter was barrelling through an evacuated suburban village, rescuing any stragglers that had found themselves lost or stuck under rubble, whilst the other Xmen dealt with arresting the rogue mutant. Blurs of grays and browns passed him at rapid speed as he did one last sweep of the area, confident in the fact that all people had been safely vacated.

Leaning onto a particularly large mound of debris, Peter swung his leg in boredom, waiting on Charles to give him the go-ahead to start the X-jet back to the mansion. The wind picked up, sending his tufts of hair back and away from his forehead.

Abruptly, a flurry of white flew into the air, startling Peter as he whipped around, ready to attack.

The sight wasn’t as menacing as he thought, though. Small seeds dispersed across the terrain, each carrying a bundle of fluffy white bristles in its wake. He looked down to the sparse grass and was met with a patch of green stems, like a blossom without its petals. Peters brows furrow. What a funny lookin’ flower.

Crouching down, Peter plucks the base of a stem with all its remaining puffballs, cupping his hand in the direction of the wind so it wouldn’t fly away. He grinned, standing up again and inspecting it. It looked peculiar, and rather outlandish. Just his style.

He was halfway through tucking the flower carefully into his back pocket before something slammed into him, sending Peter tumbling into a jagged pile of rubble and fragments of serrated wood.

Motherfucker! He groaned, feeling a searing pain shoot through his stomach. A pile of dust shot up into the air almost comically, leaving a tangy taste on his tongue. Bleh. With feeble limbs, Peter lifted himself onto his elbows, looking down from his cracked goggles to shakily unzip his uniform halfway, revealing a hefty patch of crimson fluid staining his white undershirt. Scraps of wreckage tore holes through the fabric, revealing shallowish wounds littering his chest and stomach. Fuck!

Peter blinked slowly, turning his gaze to try and detect who or what had struck him. Just to the right of his aching body, a sizable slab of concrete stuck out of the ground, that had presumably collapsed from a nearby building.

How fuckin’ embarrasin’! Peter was probably gonna scar from this incident, and he would have to tell people the ‘heroic’ tale of how it went down? That he was assaulted by a chunk of rock? The students barely respected him from the whole classroom debacle with you the day prior; how were they ever gonna treat him with high regard now?

That’s right. You. How were you gonna react when he tells you? ‘Oh, How am i doin’, sweetcheeks? Thank yer for askin’, i got a real wild story fer these battle scars. What was it, ya ask? Hand-to-hand combat with buildin’ material. Sexy, right?’

Yeah, no. He had already embarrassed himself enough around you.

Once he had been strapped back into his seat, with the help of Hank, Peter now had to endure two hours of throbbing pain, and Scott giggling next to him.

Peter slumped into his seat, whining into his dust-cracked hands. “What the fuck am I gunna tell her, man? I can’t keep on embarrassin’ myself like this!”

“Don’t worry too much, dude, you’ll forget about this in no time.” Scott assured, smiling and placing a hand on his shoulder, before screwing his face up and wiping the dust frantically on his sleeve. Peter hummed, albeit confused. When was Scott ever the one to give Peter actual reassurance?

“All in all, it’s just another brick in the wall, man.” Ah, there it was. Peter slowly turned to face Scott, deadpanning and watching the boy’s shoulders shake from silent laughter.

Scott shrieked as Peter shook his head like a wet dog, showering his best friend in a flurry of dust.

Once the flight had come to a halt, Peter limped through the mansion's corridors, hobbling to the living room couch as he was in too much pain to climb the few flights of stairs to his room.

Peter grumbled into the couch, eyes hooded as he melted into the material, ready to fall asleep.

And then you came barreling into the room. Peter sat up as you rushed into the room, nudging him into the back of the couch and placing your knees either side of his quivering hips, clutching his face. Peter really wished he had showered now.

“Take off your shirt.” Come again? Were Peter’s wounds making him hallucinate some filthy apparatition?

He blinked. “Eh?”

“When did you get back? No one told me you got back and I've been worried like crazy. You were four hours late, Peter!” You stressed, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. “Kurt told me you were injured! Did the mutant hurt you? He said you went flyin’ into rubble and practically got impaled!”

You were speaking in such quick succession that it had impressed Peter by your pace. He merely blinked once more, too caught up with your smooth hands against his cheeks and your frantic words. You were worried about him?

“I’m fine, babe.”

You glance down to his stomach, however you couldn’t see much of anything due to the dark hue of his uniform. “I can’t believe you were impal-”

“Not that I don't appreciate yer concern fer me babe, but 'm fine.” You glared at him “Honest! It’s just a few scrapes. Nothin’ i can’t handle.” he grinned, attempting to ease you up a little.

Despite Peter’s best efforts, you still seem just as on edge as before. Taking your hands off his cheeks, he whined at the loss of warmth, chasing your touch. Instead, you reach down to grasp hold of the zipper at the top of his ensemble, zipping it down to just above his hips. His mouth makes a small ‘o’ before contorting into a lazy smirk, glancing up at you.

“Easy there, tiger.”

A glimpse of his stained undershirt tells you all you need to know. You meet his gaze anxiously as Peter gives you a guilty grin, shrugging his shoulders at being called out. “Okay, maybe it’s slightly worse than i let on but-”

“Take your shirt off.” You urge imperatively, and he flushes.

“I dunno babe, I'm like, supeerrr sore. I don't think I can do it by myself, yer gonna have to help me.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. It was blatantly obvious Peter was flirting, any common idiot could tell. But he looked pretty beaten up, and you were mostly sure that moving him around too much would not feel too great for the speedster, so you obliged.

You lift his shirt up in gradual intervals, keeping your focus on the garment as he grins straight at you, clearly wanting to catch you peeking a glance at his body.

“Normally I'd be buyin’ yer dinner before showin’ off the goods… but-” Peter cuts off as you peel the shirt away from one particularly deep wound, the skin sticking to the material. You whisper apologies, lifting the shirt off his head and discarding it to the side. You glanced back down.

Peter noticed your blatant staring and looked up at you, tilting his head to the side. "So are you goin’ ter look me up and down like that ‘er are yer gunna patch me up?"

“Shush, ‘m not looking at you like anythin’!”

“Mhm, sure yer weren’t sugar.” He beamed. You redden, his thoughts transmitting like a beacon through his facial expression.

“Dont make this sexual..” You mutter, avoiding his gaze as you look around for the medkit you brought with you. Peter follows your movements with his gaze, head leaning back to rest of the edge of the couch whilst you shuffled about the room.

“Now what fun would that be, hm? Can’t I enjoy some attention from a beautiful woman like you?”

With the supplies you return to your earlier position, standing over his shirtless body and desperately trying to keep your thoughts at bay.

Finally taking a closer glance, you see his wounds, shallow, but littering his stomach and chest. There was a fairly large but not too serious cut on the right side of his abs and you lightly gasp, your fingertips reaching for it. “Can I touch you?”

Peter groaned “Ooh, yer can touch me anywhere yer want sugar.”

Choosing to ignore him, you open the first aid box with a satisfying click, taking out a roll of bandages, cotton pads and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, placing it down on the couch next to you. As you do so Peter takes a deep breath, letting him savor the scent of your perfume before the alcohol’s smell eclipsed it.

“So are ya my nurse now?” Peter observes “Kinky. Didn't know yer were into roleplay, but i'm not gonna lie, im kinda diggin’ it babe.”

You choke, smacking his arm. Too far, maximoff.

Peter winces, “Hey! Do ya hit all yer patients? This is medical malpractice right here! I was just sayin- this is like the start to every porno ive ever see-” he hisses as you press down the alcohol soaked cotton pad on his wound.

“Sorry, this may sting a little.” you say half apologetically.

“Well it don't mean anythin’ if yer warn me after, babe!” He whimpers, reaching to grab your hips for support from your position above him. You suppress the urge to rut into his lap, continuing your cleaning as you feel an onslaught of slick ooze from your core. You tried to keep in the sigh, but it fell so easily from your mouth at his touch.

“Ouch. Ow. Ow, ow oW OW!! Babe?! Does the word ow mean anythin’ to yer? Ye- agh-OW!” Peter shrieks, and you wince at the voice crack “Jesus christ! Who taught yer how to tend to people’s injuries? A construction worker with a jackhammer? OW!”

Despite his clear pain you stifle a laugh, swiping more gently this time. “It’s all part of the process, Peter. I’m trying to help you here.”

“Oh really? Are yer tryna help me or finish the fuckin’ job, babe?!”

A moment of tranquility passes, and just before you think Peter will stay quiet and let you get on with your work his voice drops, a sultry tone now teasing your ears. “I've got ter say babe.. when I pictured ya with yer hands roamin’ my chest, the wound was conspicuously absent.” You failed to keep in your reaction this time, a shuddery whimper leaving your mouth as you tense. Peter bites his lip, grin impossibly wide and his hands snaking around your hips.

You feel him pull you in closer and you oblige, facing him as you sit down onto his lower thighs as carefully as you can, not wanting to cause him any further strain. He grins.

“Okay, one more cut to clean and I'm done, yes? Then you can be bandaged up.” Clearing your throat, you await his response.

Peter inhales, screwing his eyes shut in preparation “M’kay, ‘m ready. Jus- FUCK.” You press the cotton ball onto his wound, watching as his muscles tense up and he grips onto your hips for support. Chewing on his lip in anguish, his head throws back once more. You refrain from looking at his adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat.

His tight grip on your hips loosen after a minute and you hum, proceeding to unravel the bandages and wrap them around his torso.

Peter looks at you seriously for a moment, breaking the silence in a much more apologetic way this time. “ ‘M Sorry about blowin’ the whole movie thing, I know yer wanted to go out after i got back.. I guess this will have to be our version of a first date, huh?” He chuckles half heartedly, but his eyes oozed regret and mourning for your date to the theatre.

You move a slither of hair out of his eyes, smiling. “I don't mind either way, we could always go out another time, yeah? And no one predicted you were gonna get hurt like that, it’s not your fault, Peter.”

“Yeah, thanks babe.” your heart clenches as his dimples show through his toothy smile.

Clearing his throat, Peter’s large hands splayed across the small of your back, sliding you from his lower thighs to be flush against his crotch. He grins cheekily as you gasp, feeling his semi hard cock through the soft material of his unzipped uniform.

Hands laying to rest on his bare shoulders, you smooth your thumb over his collarbone. You move your other hand down from his left shoulder, your fingertips grazing down his arm before reaching his hand. Gently coaxing his grasp away from your hip, you interlace your fingers, clasping them together as his other hand frames your jaw.

“Hey.. uh, I think I might have a little scratch up here on my lip. I don't s’pose yer would be interested in checkin’ it out, doc?” Peter’s sweet, chocolate browns shed a spicier shade when he captures your gaze.

Your body answers before you can talk, tongue wetting your lips, leaving him in suspense for a moment.

You faux sigh in thought, “I guess I can’t leave a patient suffering. It would be medical malpractice, and I always make sure my patient gets the care he deserves.”

Peter’s eyes dilate then, and you begin to question whether or not he was joking about the roleplay kink. Alas, you had no more time to ponder as he didn’t waste a single second, bumping your nose against his before seizing your lips.

Kissing him sensually, your tongue swims smoothly against his as you move to scrape your fingers across his scalp. Whining in response, Peter’s head lolls back at the stimuli as you nibble his lower lip. You could feel Peter’s cock twitch and you grind slowly against it, eliciting a filthy moan from his mouth into yours.

As you swallow and get over the initial wave of adrenaline, a bitter and rather tangy taste invades your mouth, forcing you to pull back as Peter chases your lips. You place a hand to his chest, breathing hard and scrunching your face up. “Bleh!”

Peter’s half lidded gaze snaps back open as he observes your clear disgust, swiping his tongue over his own lips in questioning. “Uh- yer.. yer alright over there? I know ‘m sorta outta practise but-“

You swipe your thumb over your lips, noticing a few specks of dust covering them. Peter notices and brings a hand to his forehead, slapping himself at his idiocy.

“Shit! Sorry, babe. I totally just crashed here when i got back, forgot about the whole.. grime situation.” Peter grimaces, cursing himself under his breath, “Way to kill the fuckin’ mood, Maximoff.”

To his surprise, you only lean in closer, batting your eyelashes at him. “Patients have to be clean before assessments can begin. Standard procedure. I hope you don’t mind if I scrub you down?”

Your sultry voice forces a heat to pool in Peter’s belly, and he chokes on his own groan, pupils dilating further.

Fwip. You don’t even get the chance to scooch off his lap before Peter had you in his bathroom, shirtless and with his navy uniform dangling around his v-line. Another Fwip and Peter turned on the shower before pulling your back against his chest, tugging at your t-shirt as a silent plea of desperation and unbridled horniness.

Your mouth parts as his head dips into your shoulder. You swore you could hear the faintest of whimpers leave his mouth as he tenderly kisses your clothed shoulder, his lips humming small vibrations of aroused distress.

What choice did you have but to comply?

As you turned around, undressing yourself before him, Peter’s eyes drunk you in, his eyebrows twitching and his teeth sinking into his lip at your little strip show. Down to the last few articles of clothing, you removed your underwear slowly, a thread of wetness connecting your pussy with the soaked fabric.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, his hands quivering as you then slung your t-shirt somewhere around the room, eager to surge forward and grasp at every part of your body.

You smiled, flattered yet unsure of what to do, your eyes too preoccupied with Peter’s uniform, of which was slowly sliding down his hips, revealing the black band of his underwear.

“So.. nurse, I think 'm ready fer my physical.” Peter chuckled, observing proudly as your breathing sped up rapidly, gazing at his torso.

“Need any help undressing?” You asked, motioning to his bandaged chest and bruised arms. “It must be sore.”

“Yes please, nurse.” Peter replied flirtatiously, maintaining his character as patient. You stalk over to him, getting on your knees as you start pulling his uniform and boxers down as slowly as possible without Peter getting frustrated. As you do so, you notice his painfully hard dick slapping upwards from its confines. Smiling, you innocently glance up at Peter’s blushing state, inching forward as if you were about to…

Peter’s cock twitched and he gasped as you surged forward, only to completely pass where he needed you most as you teasingly peck the inside of his thigh, eyes still boring into his own.

“C’mon babe.. That ain’t playin’ fair.” A mix between a whine and a growl left Peter’s throat as you stood up to face his pleading eyes. Taking his face in your palms, your soft lips tease him by brushing against his lips, but not yet giving in to kissing him.

“I think It’s best if I check your temperature orally first.” You mumble. Capturing his lips roughly, your kiss turns into a wet, dueling passion. As you battle for dominance, Peter kicks off the clothing pooling around his ankles, guiding you backwards and into the awaiting shower.

Hot water cascades over you as he pulls you close again, diving in for another heated kiss that you’re all too eager to return.

You have no idea how long your tongues swirl around one another, but eventually a hand grips your wrist and tugs you away. You go easily, and when you look up at Peter, he grins giddily and places a bar of soap in your hands. You lick your lips, this time no longer unwelcomed by the taste of dust and plastering, but of Peter.

The room becomes stuffy as the water from the shower starts to get hot. You sigh as the hot water caresses your skin, or maybe it was from Peter running his hands over your body. They stop on your breasts before gently squeezing them, looking down at you with a dopey grin. You throw your head back as the water runs over your chest.

As Peter prodded and squeezed your tits like they were some new gadget you began the slow, worshipful task of running your soapy hands across his chest, making sure to leave the bandaged areas alone.

"I would really appreciate it if you communicated every ache, any pain that needs tendin’ to, sir." You say, moving to whisper the words in his ear sweetly, the filthy undertones dripping from your tongue.

Peter pauses briefly before managing to regain control over himself, grabbing your arm and pulling you impossibly close. He nuzzles into your neck as he whispers back in a playful manner. "I've got one in a specific place. Maybe yer could help me by usin’ those magic hands of yours, doc?"

"Mhh, or do you need me to kiss it better, Peter?" You tease, licking your bottom lip suggestively before biting the plump flesh with a wink.

Peter’s face turns into a huge blush and his heartbeat starts accelerating even more as he watches you move in close, staring into his eyes. His mind goes absolutely blank and he can only stare at you in shock. His breathing becomes heavier as he looks at your lips and how you bite them; and with that a strange flurry of stammers leave his mouth.

“Nghnaawhaaaaat?”

"Peter? Can you show me where it hurts, honey?" You continue to tease him with a pout. God, you were such a fuckin’ brat.

He can't help but feel both embarrassed and surprised at how forward your question is. He clears his throat "Uh... R-Right here, doll..." He says in a nervous manner as his blush deepens even more, then he points at his twitching cock. You follow his line of sight and smile, watching as beads of pre-cum drizzle out of his tip.

"Aww, poor baby. How long has it been hurting?" You furrow your brows, a mischievous look in your eyes as you place your hands on his chest, traveling downwards.

Peter looks at you with a shocked expression for the fifth time that night, tilting his head much like a puppy as he watches you in awe.

Shiit... Are you really doing this? It’s a good thing you didn’t fully embrace the doctor-patient performance with a stethoscope and all, because you’d certainly be worrying about the freakishly-fast roadrunner beat Peter’s heart was jammin’ to. Fuck.

"Do you want me to kiss it better, baby?" You quiz sweetly.

Peter starts to feel his breath getting heavier as his heart is racing faster, wayy too fuckin’ fast. "Ah... Y-Yeah..." He replies softly, still feeling his face turn into a brighter red as he slowly nods.

Every nerve in his body went on high alert as Peter watched your fingers close around his aching cock and move over the swollen flesh. A tortured gasp escaped his lips, and he threw his head back against the shower wall, panting; it felt so good, your smooth palm creating a delicious friction. He thrust forward into your hand, wanting you to continue, his shame at being naked and aroused gone entirely.

Your face was still close. Close enough to observe his face, fascinated at the raw sensuality flickering across it. Drops of water freckled Peter’s cheeks and forehead; you weren't sure if it was the spray from the shower or his own sweat. His mouth was open slightly, and his rough breathing was causing yours to speed up as well. You smoothed your hand back down his wet length and drew the other hand down to cup his balls.

Peter hissed loudly and pushed his hips forward again, cursing. You couldn't tear your eyes from his profile; he was flushed, his lips dusky and moist, the silver of his eyelashes standing out against his fevered cheek. Simply delectable, and you wanted to have a taste.

The touch of your lips on his neck brought Peter to the surface as you pressed your breasts to his chest, your lips everywhere. They ghosted over his collarbone, shoulder, neck and jaw before closing over his earlobe. He moaned, turning, seeking out your lips.

Peter's eyes opened as you released your hands from him. In no time Peter had locked lips with you once more, in a clash of teeth and moisture; whether it was spit or water you weren’t entirely sure. He raised his hands to your breasts at the same time your tongue parted the seam of his lips, and the two of you moaned together before fusing your open mouths.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Peter ground the raised centers of your nipples into his large palms, then rubbed a thumb over each in rhythm. Your initial intentions were to tease the ever-loving shit out of the speedster, but you couldn’t but melt into a puddle at his tender touches.

Peter’s erection was pressing into your belly, hard as steel. You ground against it, wanting it lower and inside, quickly losing your intention to mess around. Abruptly breaking the kiss to breathe, you quirked an eyebrow at Peter. "So, have you made up your mind?"

"Wha-?" He was adorably confused, his pupils dilated in the shadowy light. You grinned and reached between yourselves to stroke along his cock lightly, picking up the trickle of pre-cum on his cockhead and rubbing it around the smooth, ragingly red area.

Lightly pushing Peter back under the full spray, you sank to your knees in front of him. Handling him gently, you sucked the tip of him into your mouth, savoring the much nicer tangy sensataaion.

"Oh Fuck," The speedster moaned on a sharp inhalation of breath. This was progressing past the realm of sweaty-palm fantasies and straight into the embodiment of every pornographic dream he'd ever had; only those dreams had never felt quite so hot.

Your mouth was liquid fire over him, your tongue circling and teasing, making him grow even larger.

He resisted the urge to grab your head and thrust into your mouth like he had seen in the pornos, giving you free reign over his pleasure. Instead Peter coursed his hands through your damp hair, giving you wordless pats of praise when you traced up a particularly sensitive vein.

Already weak at the knees from your mouth, Peter nearly shot when he looked down and caught you watching him with feverish eyes. The image was so blatantly erotic, he couldn't help but complete it by curling his fingers deeper into your hair.

The slight jerk of his hands on your scalp told you that Peter was close to going completely out of control. His slight grunt and increased participation, in turn, increased your enthusiasm. Releasing your grip around the base of his cock, you tried to take him deeper. This you had tried before with varying amounts of success, usually gagging as the overzealous recipient tried to choke you.

However, with an untried Peter, you were having a great deal more success with the technique.

After figuring out how to time your breathing with the motions, you crept forward and began in earnest, taking Peter in until your nose touched his silvery pubic hair. His hands tightened again, and this time his whimper of pleasure was louder, needier.

He was so close, water pounding his chest, blood pounding in his ears, lips, tongue and friction at the center of it all.

Nearly mindless now, searching for that sweet release, Peter thrust forward a bit, searching for the movement that would send him over the edge. When he encountered no resistance from you, he thrust his hips in rhythm with your mouth until he could take no more.

You could feel Peter's flesh tightening and knew he was ready to blow a load. He tried to push you away before he let go, but you gripped the back of his thighs tightly and sucked hard, an explosion of cum shooting down your throat and tongue.

You gagged a little when the first stream hit the back of your throat, but you recovered enough to hear the incoherent whines Peter made. Another grunt escaped from him as you rubbed your soft tongue over the underside of his dick, moving over the pulsating veins there.

It was all Peter could do to keep from crumpling as he shot harder than he ever had in his life, knees weak from the sheer force of it.

If you hadn't been there to maintain the grip on his legs, he would have melted into a pile of jelly at your knees.

Once you had ridden out his orgasm and released him you stood back up, pushing back the soaken strands of hair that hung off his forehead. Peter grinned, chest heaving as he watched your tongue come out, licking a spot of his release you had missed on your lip.

“Feeling any better, sir?”

Again, Peter felt tongue-tied. He wasn't sure what to say or do. Even though he'd had the most soul-sucking orgasm of his life, his dick was still half-hard. Typical speedster sex drive.

The water was still hot, yet wouldn’t be lasting for much longer. He had to make this count.

Your breasts brushed his chest again when Peter leaned in to capture your lips with his. A slight squeak of surprise escaped you when he separated the seam of your lips with his tongue and pushed forward aggressively. Your tongues duelled, battling for position. Peter could taste the musky odor of his own arousal on your lips, strangely exotic. His hands were tender when he lifted the weight of your breasts in his hold.

Nothing in his fantasies matched the feel of your nipples as he circled over them. Softly puckered flesh dragged under the smooth calluses of his thumbs, causing you to moan softly and push your torso against his.

Straightening up, Peter grasped your waist tightly and with a smirk, swiftly spun you around, pushing you forward into the shower wall.

You let out a hiss as your nipples came in contact with the cold tiles, them becoming painfully hard. Peter gently pushed your hair aside before placing a chaste kiss on your neck; you moved your head to the side, allowing him better access.

Peter rested his forehead between your shoulder blades as the water ran down his back. He took a deep breath in, trailing a hand down your back before pulling back and slapping your ass. The loud moan that fell from your lips made him chuckle, "You've done yer job doc, now yer need payment.”

You nodded your head as you whimpered, feeling yourself become more and more turned on and unbelievably wet. You feel Peter’s tip rubbing your folds, spreading your moisture around as you whimper in anticipation.

You looked back over your shoulder to Peter glancing down at where you two meet. Raising an eyebrow, you went to say something but Peter's quick thrust into you made all the air in your lungs escape. You were wet enough that it didn’t hurt, but the delicious stretch it provided you made your eyes roll back into your head.

Hands slipping as you try to hold onto something, your breasts bounce into the wall as you whimper, legs spreading further so Peter could fully enter you.

Without stopping and with a thoughtful hum, Peter reached up towards the detachable shower head and flicked the setting to a steady stream of fast water, pulling it down.

You could hear him doing something and looked back over your shoulder to see him messing with the shower head, "Are you about to-" You let out a cry as you felt the pressure from the water on your clit, "Shi- shit! Peter!" The pleasure making your eyes roll back.

You attempt to snap your thighs shut, trying to escape the intense pressure on your bundle of nerves. Peter, however, had other plans as he huffs breathlessly, lips dragging up the sensitive skin of your neck. He nips at your ear, using a free hand to spread your legs apart.

“Yer need to keep ‘em spread for me. Y-yer can do that fer me, can’t ya, babe?” He grunts into your ear. You whimper, nodding.

“That’s a- f-fuck.. good girl.”

In a carnal rage, a clatter sounds as Peter drops the shower head, gripping your hips with both hands as he fucks up into you, leaning his bodyweight onto yours to give him more leverage. The faster he fucked into you, the faster the feeling of your climax crested. This one felt different, more intense, and you both knew it.

You make a pitiful noise, again and again as Peter drives his cock into your cunt, hitting your G-spot every single time.

“Therrre she is. Is that it, yeah? That spot feel good, honey?” You could feel Peter’s grin against your throat. “Yer squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. Can yer hear that?”

The slick sounds of his cock fucking into you was loud over your pants for air, and you nodded weakly. You felt slick and pre-cum run down your thighs as Peter moved in and out of your heat in rapid succession, much like an animal in heat. "I think yer might even squirt fer me, doc.”

A shuddered moan fell from your lips before you agree. Sharp, white hot pleasure tore through your body, from head to toe, and you keened as Peter forced himself deeper. "Yer pushin' me out, babe-lemme in, need to feel it," he moaned. "Fuck, yer so pretty; that's it, that- Fuck!"

You felt the dampness of your thighs before you could comprehend the heightened pleasure, and you glanced down to watch Peter’s lower half become soaked from your climax. "Oh-" You turned your head as much as you could to face him, eyes half lidded.

From his position behind you, Peter crashed his lips to yours and forced his tongue into your mouth, fucking it languidly while his hips stuttered in their rhythm. You panted as he pulled back, his breath fanning over your spit-slick lips.

"I need ter cum, baby-" he pleaded, thrusting deeper.

"Please, please-lemme cum in-"

"Yes," you rasped, nodding. “Please- i need you to cum in me so bad-”

Peter groaned and shuddered. He lowered his head to your shoulder and rested his forehead on vour collarbone. You could hear him panting over the slapping of skin and slick noises of his cock in your cunt, and you matched his thrusts in an attempt to bring him closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. Each thrust sent a shock of pleasure curling up your spine, but you brushed it off, intent on making Peter cum - you squeezed around him and circled your hips. The whimpery noises he makes only make you clench harder, wrapping him in a vice you never want to let go of.

Suddenly, the hot spray of water turns cold and you gasp, arching your back and clamping yourself down on Peter’s cock with all the strength you could muster, tipping him over the edge.

“I-ngh.. Shit!” Peter panted and his hips faltered, a warmth soon blooming in your cunt, filling you up to the brim and leaking out of your quivering body.

The slow, rocking rhythm Peter set with his hips soothed you, bringing you slowly down from your high while he descended from his. "Fuckin' hell, babe," he murmured, and he kissed you on the lips, then the forehead.

The room is full of the scent of arousal, and it makes you feel high up in the clouds, filling your head with the syrupy-sweet fuzziness of speedy contentment.

You must have zoned out for a little bit, because the next thing you’re aware of is the sound of the shower being turned off, and strong yet shaking arms scooping you up off your feet. You were deposited outside the walls of the shower, and then a soft towel is being worked around your body, collecting the droplets of water falling off your hair and frame.

"Let's get yer warmed up, babe."

Before long, you’re bundled up in a bathrobe, hair perfectly brushed out, and being placed gently onto the couch you had been making out with Peter on not too long ago. The volume of the TV had been lowered, allowing you to hear Peter's soft mumblings of praise in your hair as he lays below you, arms cradling you to his chest. His sweatpants feel comfy against your bare legs, and your palms rest on the cotton of his white t-shirt he had changed into.

“Can we watch The Empire Strikes Back?” Peter murmurs into your hair, making you grin as it takes you back to the day you met him in the auditorium. Humming contently, you fish your hand down the side of the sofa in search of the tv remote. You furrow your brows however as you feel something rather furry brush against your fingertips.

Pinching it between your two fingers you pluck it out of the couch, inspecting the small… seed?

Peter’s eyes follow your gaze as he gasps softly in remembrance, craning his head to the side to see an abundance of dandelion seeds littering the couch. Peter frowned. He had forgotten about the strange flower he had plucked due to the abrupt slab of concrete disrupting his day. The seedlings must have fallen out of his uniform when you were tending to his wounds.

“Shit! That was meant ter be a surprise, babe.” Peter frowned sulkily, plucking the puffball from your fingertips. “I found these weird lookin’ flowers on the mission and wanted to show them to yer. Thought i discovered a new species er somethin’.”

Despite your heart warming at the kind yet failed gesture, you laughed. “Peter, honey, they’re dandelions. Weeds.” You grinned, watching as his mouth forms an ‘o’ in realization.

“But.. at least they’re rare, right?”

You thin your lips out into a line whilst shaking your head, trying not to laugh as the speedster groans, throwing his head back.

“Ugh, I could’ve totally avoided that wall if it weren’t fer these fuckin’ things,” Peter drops the dandelion seed, letting it float to the polished wooden floor. “All that fer nothin’!”

You snuggle further against him, grazing around his bandages with a confused expression. “I do appreciate the gesture, but I thought you got these from the fight? Not from.. A wall?” You appear more perplexed as you try to imagine the scenario. “Did you.. run into it or somethin’?”

Peter sighed. Another point to add too his ‘you royally suck, dude!’ tally chart. How many times had he embarrassed himself before you now, five?

“No, it-” He grimaced “-it slammed into me.” He watched as you squinted your eyes, picturing how it went down. “Don’t fret though, babe, I totally showed it who’s boss. Knocked some sense into it.” He grinned, stroking your drying hair.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” You grin, tracing further down the trail of wounds and scratches. “Seems like it knocked more sense into you, though.”

Peter scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal before looking down at you, smiling lopsidedly. “Do I get a lolly fer bein’ so brave, doc?”

He smirks at your flushed expression and you still for a moment, before reaching into your bathrobe pocket and pulling out the panties you had strewn across the bathroom earlier. Peter's eyes widen.

“Here, take these.” You say simply, lazily dropping the material into his hand. Peter beams, face dusted pink. He’ll find some use for those, you’re sure. It won’t be a surprise if you find them framed up in his room, next to his Greta Van Fleet poster.

The next morning you change, treading down the corridor into the living room. Scott is slung across the sofa’s armrest watching the news as Jean sits on the other end by his socked feet, reading a book. Kurt and Ororo share a large armchair nearby, also watching the TV as Peter leans against a wall, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Not like he needs it anyway.

As you walk in Peter raises his mug at you, nodding and grinning toothily as you greet him back. You silently hope he hadn’t mentioned the prior events to the others.

You ask Scott to turn the volume up and he groans tardily, reaching down the back of the sofa to fish for the remote. You go into shock, however, when he furrows his brows, pulling out a lacy pair of underwear instead. Your underwear.

Scott holds them up in the air with his index finger and thumb, flushing wildly and looking around the room in search of answers. Jean lowers her book, giving you a disapproved stare before continuing her new read of the day. Ororo squeals in laughter and Kurt goes a deep shade of bluey purple, his gaze anywhere but your panties.

“Well, what do we have here?” You could hear the smugness through Scott’s voice as you look wildly across the room to Peter. He only hums, as if in question, no doubt reminiscing on the memories of last night as he sips his coffee, pleased.

You meet his eyes, desperately searching for something to say as he winks at you, strolling up behind the couch to inspect your underwear like he didn’t know whose they were.

Sighing in relief, you thought you were going to get away with it, the embarrassment slowly ebbing out of your head; that was until Peter’s voice piped up.

“Babe, I swear those are your panties, right?”

Okay, maybe Peter was a little bit of a jackass.

#peter maximoff #evan peters #quicksilver #xmen #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff smut #quicksilver smut #xmen peter maximoff #evan peters x reader

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borathae · 9 months

Text

“His touch is electric, making you sigh. “Relax, princess”, he whispers, running his hands along your body, “I’ll take the greatest care of you”. You close your eyes and fall into him. Falling is so goddamn easy when you know that it’s Yoongi’s hands which will catch you. And they will always catch you, no matter when or where he won’t ever let you collide. Alternatively: You ask Yoongi to take your anal virginity and he is more than willing to grand you this wish.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: soft Dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, the tension in this makes me weak, they are so in love!!, first time anal sex, he is so gentle with her, lingerie, body worship, strength kink, a lil bit of thigh riding, praising & loving petnames, oral (f.receiving), rimming, he fucks her hole with his monster tongue help, gentle biting, anal fingering, use of a buttplug, hand holding, hair pulling (m.receiving), use of a vibrator, he fucks her gently at first then she wants it harder, gentle spanking, he cums too soon but keeps fucking her, creampies, using cum as lube, dirty talk, edging (f.receiving), multiple orgasms for both, squirting, belly bulging, his stroke game is insane, the most loving aftercare, honestly their connection should be illegal, I came outta this smut feeling like someone threw me against a wall, like hoLY FUCK Yoongi is gonna kill me, and the worst thing is that I actually think he’s like that irl, please help me

Wordcount: 9.1k

a/n: I need five business weeks to be able to talk to people again. This made me weak. And weak isn’t a strong enough word to describe the amount of weak it made me feel. It’s like my body felt the gravity twice as strong and I couldn’t get up. I’m talking shit rn, which is yet another indicator of how deeply this shit affected me. Be strong besties, you need that 🧡

You haven’t been home in months. You counted the days. It’s been seventy eight days since you last saw your bedroom. Your plants are well taken care of by the others. You haven’t seen them either, except for phone calls and texts. You miss them, but you know it’s for the best.

You are safe here, in good hands. You aren’t completely alone here.

Yoongi is with you. He took you in one of the cars and is staying with you. Meredith called and offered the two of you her guest bedroom to stay, her library to study and her shed to practice. Of course you said yes. There aren’t many opportunities to practice with such skilled witches and it was an opportunity to go on a lovely summer holiday with your dearest love.

The days are hot and sunny. It’s been summer ever since you came here and it will stay summer for a long time still. You love the weather here, while Yoongi whines about the bright sun on more occasions than one.

Meredith offered you an opportunity to choose from all the different guest bedrooms, but you and Yoongi decided to take the one you had all those many months ago. Violet walls and mahogany furniture, with its window overlooking the garden and ocean. This room has seen so many of your most impactful memories and will therefore always feel like home to you.

Yoongi agrees. He loves this room and on most mornings you have to be the one to wrestle him off of you in order to get out of bed. Truly, Yoongi is such a clingy kitten when it comes to morning cuddles.

You love life here. You love knowing that you can wake up to the smell of the ocean and the sounds of the waves. You love knowing that your fellow witches will be downstairs with breakfast and that you can chat with them about the garden, magic and life here. You love their house because it felt like home and you love knowing that you can experience all of this with Yoongi.

You spend a lot of time practicing your magic with him. Obviously as this was the main reason for this trip. Yoongi wanted to help you with learning perfect control and Meredith’s place was the perfect place to do so. Next to practicing, you also had a lot of free time with him which you spend doing the most amazing things imaginable. On Sundays the two of you take the car to the market to shop for next week’s dinners. He always insists on carrying the heavier bags while you are busy carrying flowers (he insists on paying for them and never takes no as an answer). Whenever you finished practice earlier and the witches were busy with coven duties, Yoongi took you to one of the many restaurants along the coastline. You shared so many lovely evenings in little restaurants, chatting over food for you and coffee for him. You have been getting to know each other even better because of it. Speaking of talking, you do that a lot. Whilst driving around, visiting the market, eating at restaurants or walking along the beach. Also in bed. Be it after a passion-filled night, a lazy evening or a cozy morning. You truly talk a lot and it’s never getting boring.

Yoongi also spends a lot of time playing the guitar. It’s during those nights after practice and dinner and you agreed on healthy alone time, where you can watch him sit with his guitar by the beach or somewhere in the garden. Sometimes the wind blows just right and carries over his melodies while you relax on the patio with a good book. You like those nights as they are filled with tranquillity and somehow the cuddles you share afterwards feel a hundred times better.

You also spend a lot of time swimming. Yoongi not so much, because he hates getting into the water, but you really enjoy it. You spend most of your late mornings swimming in the ocean and sometimes one of the witches will join you and you will chat over life there.

Yoongi would either play the guitar sitting cross-legged on his towel or he would be somewhere inside, most definitely chatting with Jelena.

You like Jelena. She is lovely and sweet and her very obvious interest in Yoongi is still topic of many teasing comments you throw at him. He always whines and pouts, which results in you giggling. He never acted on her interest. One night you dared to suggest that he was allowed to act on them if he wanted to, which resulted in Yoongi genuinely getting mad at you and staying out all night. You made up the next day and he made you promise him to never ever suggest something like that again. You never did again and hugged him for a good hour before you left bed.

Said night was already forgotten and forgiven these days and life has been great. Truly and genuinely great.

You were in the shed. It was only an hour until sunset and the shed was flooded with golden light. The witches aren’t home today and won’t return until tomorrow. Coven duty somewhere in the mountains. A werewolf pack was attacked by werewolf hunters last night and the witches were called for aid. The hunters weren’t from the coast and still haven’t been located.

You and Yoongi stayed back. You for practicing and Yoongi for making sure the house stayed safe. The last time you saw him, he was in the kitchen with his lower arms covered in flour and his waist accentuated by an apron as he baked too many loaves of bread. That was a few hours ago.

A knock on the shed door makes you lift your head.

“How’s it going?” Yoongi asks. He is wearing a white button up and blue jeans. His arms are clean and the apron is shrugged off.

“Good. Did you finish the bread?”

“Yeah, they’re cooling down”, Yoongi says and walks to you. He sits down on the rattan chair next to you, resting his elbows on his knees. He reaches out, patting the top of your head, “show me what you got”, he says as he caresses the back of your head.

Yoongi gave you the task of practicing focus by painting flowers by using nothing but your magic.

You focus hard on lifting the brush and tipping it into the paints. You draw a small flower next to the one you practiced before he came inside. Then you end it with a heart in which you write his initials.

Yoongi chuckles fondly, rubbing the nape of your neck.

You place the brush back onto the ground, turning your head to beam up at him.

“And? That was really good, wasn’t it?”

“It was perfect, my love”, Yoongi praises.

You giggle, turning in your position so you were facing him. Like this, you are sitting on the ground in front him, cross-legged and with your eyes sparkling just for him.

“I’ll be an artist if I continue being that great, right?”

“Of course”, he smiles fondly, caressing your cheek, “you’ll be the greatest artist.”

“You’ll buy my art, won’t you?”

“Of course, my sweet princess.”

You wiggle your shoulders because he makes you feel good. He studies your face with love drunk eyes.

“Hey, Yoongs?” you ask.

“Yes, my love?”

“You know what we talked about on Sunday?”

“Of course. Why?”

“I thought about it and I think I want to do it tonight.”

Yoongi widens his eyes for just a second, before his fond warm gaze returns.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not doing it for you. I want to try it”, you say, reaching out to feel up his shin mindlessly, “when you put your fingers up there, it felt really good and you’re always so gentle. And the witches aren’t here tonight, which means we can be loud. Yeah”, you feel your cheeks heat up, “I wanna try it.”

He smiles gently, caressing your chin as he has it between his thumb and pointer finger. His head tilts to the side, his eyes lower fondly.

“Then we gotta do it”, he says, “princess’ orders, yeah?”

You laugh, nodding your head. Yoongi chuckles and places his hand on the back of your head to tilt it up and kiss your forehead.

“You’re so cute”, he says, guiding his kisses down along your nose until he can claim your lips in a kiss.

You sigh, hooking your arms behind his head and getting to your knees instantly. Yoongi’s body follows your movements instinctively and just seconds later, you are on his lap without the kiss ever turning awkward.

Yoongi runs his big hands up and down your body. He feels up your legs, butt, hips and back, he lingers on your cheeks and switches up between touching you and hugging you against his chest. It feels so good. He feels so good.

By the time, you break the kiss for the first time, your hips are squirming on his thigh and your breathing is quickened. Yoongi looks up at you warmly. His chest heaves up and down as well, his hands are on your hips.

“You got me so good”, you say and giggle.

“I know, princess love. I can smell it”, Yoongi says, smiling fondly.

“God, embarrassing”, you say, hiding away in the crook of his neck.

“Why?” Yoongi says and chuckles, patting your butt, “I like it. Why’s it embarrassing?”

“Because I can’t even be secretly horny with you.”

He laughs, “why you wanna be secret about it? Don’t hide that from me”, he says and grabs your butt just so he can tug you snug against him. You gasp because of it, writhing from the sudden pressure on your warmth, “I love that smell, don’t you dare tryna keep that from me”, he rasps, moving your hips back and forth.

“Yoongi”, you sigh, feeling deep tingles in your tummy.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Feels good.”

“Mhm, I know”, he whispers and stops even if you whine in complaint.

“Don’t stop.”

“Mhm”, he hums, getting to his feet with you in his arms, “let’s get you inside. It’s getting too cold.”

You know what will come soon and it makes you press yourself closer to him.

“But you have to go somewhere else when I get cleaned. It’s embarrassing”, you tell him.

“I promise. You can have all the privacy you need.”

Yoongi goes downstairs as you get cleaned. Of course he does, because when he promises something he actually means it. You don’t feel stressed or nervous about getting yourself ready for him, because you know that he will give you all the time you need.

You don’t bother to put on clothes once you are happy with the result. Instead, you pick out a set of lingerie with matching stockings and the necklace Yoongi got you. A droplet of his blood was infused into a blue gemstone and the purest gold frames it in a delicate heart shaped pendant. Knowing how much such a present meant with him makes you want to cry each time you put it on.

You feel really pretty, making your way downstairs with a skip in your steps.

You find Yoongi in the kitchen, humming to himself as he listens to music through his ear buds and washes the tomatoes he picked from the garden. He will make dinner with them later.

You close the distance between you and him, snaking your arms around him from behind.

“Mhm”, Yoongi lifts his head and presses back into you.

He dries his hands, takes out his ear buds and touches you.

“Don’t mind me”, you say.

He turns in your arms, showing off the smile he sports. It grows as his eyes land on your body.

“Oh, princess”, he says, picking you up just to lift you on the kitchen counter, “look at you. You shouldn’t have dressed up.”

“Why not?”

“Because”, he presses his hips against you, feeling up your lower back, “now I gotta rip this off of you. You are so beautiful, fucking shit look at you.”

You laugh, feeling your heart flutter.

“Do you like it?” you ask, posing for him.

“I love it”, he says, running his hands over the fabric of your panties and stockings, “where’d you hide that from me? It’s fucking beautiful on you.”

“In my suitcase.”

“Mhm princess”, he purrs, running his hands up your torso until he can trace your bra, “I should spank your cute butt for keeping this from me for so long.”

You draw closer, tangling your fingers in his long hair.

“Fuck it instead”, you whisper.

Yoongi’s eyes flit to your lips. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a lopsided smirk tugs at the corner of them a second later.

“Deal?” you ask, gazing at his lips.

“You already know my answer, princess”, he rasps, drawing closer until his kiss is just a tilt of your head away. The tension twists your stomach addictively.

“I need to hear it”, you sigh.

“Fuck, don’t tease”, he rasps with heavy eyes. One more second without your kiss will kill him.

“I’m not. Say it”, you whisper, feeling dizzy from denial.

“Deal”, he breathes, placing his hand on the back of your head, “now fucking come here and let me seal it.”

You let him pull you in with a moan of his name and your legs closing around his waist instantly. He growls deeply, picking up from the counter to carry you with one arm. His hand never leaves your face, except for when he feels up your torso hungrily.

He knows the way upstairs, using his senses to walk safely while his lips are lost in you.

He nudges the door closed with his foot and carries you to bed. He doesn’t stop kissing you as he lays you down on it, claiming the emptiness between your legs for himself. Your legs are over his thighs, his knees are digging into the mattress. Like this, he can grind his clothed cock into you. The dent in his jeans is so unbearably noticeable to your sensitive pussy.

Yoongi breaks the kiss to instead dance his lips over your jawline and neck. His hands are feeling up your legs.

“You feel so good”, you sigh, writhing under him sensually. Your hands are on his chest, trying to open his shirt.

“I can’t get enough of you, princess”, he whispers, changing sides of your neck, “my beautiful love, fucking look at you.”

His fingers play with the hem of your panties and slip inside. Not in the front but at the side of your hips, where your skin is so sensitive. He tugs slightly.

“Don’t rip them”, you say, squirming away, “I really like them.”

He smirks against your neck.

“Fine”, he says and without warning picks you up just enough that your butt is off the mattress and he can pull down your panties.

You laugh, writhing in his hands with your eyes glued to his face. You get so giddy whenever he shows his strength. It’s so nice to know that you are in such strong and safe hands with him.

Yoongi chuckles, “cute.”

“It’s so hot when you lift me.”

“I know princess, I can smell it”, he says and guides your panties to his nose to take in your scent. He growls playfully, flashing his eyes ruby, “so sweet”, he lulls, letting the panties disappear in his front pocket a second later.

“Touch me”, you choke out, feeling lightheaded. There won’t ever go a day by where this shit doesn’t ruin you.

“Patience. I gotta savour you”, he says, placing himself over you again. He lowers himself to your collarbones, touching your sides, “I’d be a fool if I didn’t”, he adds in a whisper before he runs his lips over your skin.

The touch is electric, making you sigh. You close your eyes and fall into him. Falling is so goddamn easy when you know that it’s Yoongi’s hands which will catch you. And they will always catch you, no matter when or where, he won’t ever let you collide.

Yoongi lifts his lips when he is between your clothed breasts. He glances up at you, finding heaven in how blissed you look.

“You’re so beautiful”, he says honestly and lowers his lips to your soft breasts to kiss them, “so fucking beautiful.”

“There…” you sigh, arching your chest into him.

“There?” he whispers, sucking on the spot of before. The one which made you arch so cutely and which makes you arch even cuter right now.

“Yoongi”, you squeak in a giggle, writhing between his hands.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asks in a smile, feeling up your sides.

“It’s just…good.”

“Cute”, he says, changing the paths of his kiss to feel up your tummy instead. There is no other tummy on this earth which is as perfect as yours. Yoongi loves every single inch of it, memorising the paths of it with his eyes closed and his tongue tasting your skin hungrily.

By the time he reaches your lower tummy, your skin isn’t the only thing wet. You already were before, but now you are soaked, filling Yoongi’s nose with the sweetest scent.

“Your scent, holy fuck”, he murmurs into you as he buries his face in the softness of your inner thigh.

You reach down and twist his hair, bucking your hips up. His eyes open, meeting your gaze.

“Please”, you beg.

“Don’t rush it”, he whispers and switches legs, “relax princess, I’m getting there.”

“Oh god, I need it so bad”, you whine, tugging on his hair.

“Mhm, me too. Need to taste you so bad”, he lulls, running his tongue down your thigh. The contact is wet and hot, leaving you to throb around nothing.

He turns his head.

“Ah”, you moan without needing to be touched. The aspect of it is already enough to turn you weak.

“So fucking sweet”, he rasps, letting the words swirl over your pussy.

“Please”, you beg.

“Mhhm”, he purrs, drawing closer until you can feel his warmth radiate of his lips.

“Yoongi”, you moan, tugging on his hair.

“Cute”, he rasps, putting distance between you and your sweetest pleasure.

“No, back”, you beg, trying to push him down but he is stronger.

He chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he rasps, doing the unthinkable of sitting up.

Your fingers slip from his hair this way, gripping his belt loop instead.

“Please don’t”, you beg.

“Patience. I’m just getting the toys.”

“I just wanna be touched, please”, you whine, knowing that it is fruitless to beg.

“You’re adorable”, he says as he is busy with retrieving the bag.

Waiting for him to get the toys from his suitcase and return to bed is torture. You need his touch so bad.

Yoongi sits down next to you, opening the toy bag to look through it. Not that he has to do a lot of looking as he has all the toys sorted into their own compartments. He is organised like this. It’s so attractive that he is.

He opens the buttplug compartment and takes out the silicon toy. You eye it and gulp.

“You can stop this anytime you need to, yeah? I won’t be upset with you”, Yoongi says, who watches it happen.

“I don’t wanna stop. I’m just really excited.”

Yoongi smiles, “I’m excited too, my love”, he says shimmying down your body with the plug and lube equipped.

You open your legs without needing to be told to, looking at him with a racing heart.

The lube bottle opens with a click. Yoongi makes sure that he covers his fingers thoroughly.

“Relax”, he says and connects his lubed up fingers with your hole.

“Fuck. Yoongi”, you get out, closing your legs in reaction. They fall open again a second later, your hips squirm needily.

“You’re so perfect, my princess”, he praises, rubbing slow circles. You whine in reaction and buck your hips up. Yoongi understands instantly. It’s time for him to take the next step. With a little bit of pressure, he lets his middle finger slip inside.

You inhale sharply, releasing it as a shaky “oh god”, a second later. Your eyes fall closed and your nose scrunches up.

“There we go. All relaxed around me”, he praises, pumping his finger in and out slowly, “you’re doing so well.”

“It feels really good.”

“Yeah? It feels good for me too, princess. You’re so soft inside”, Yoongi says, curling his finger.

“More?”

“Already?”

“Yeah, please. I’m horny”, you giggled the last words, earning yourself a soft chuckle from him.

“Gladly”, Yoongi says and pushes his ring finger inside. You tense up, whimpering softly. He places his hand on your lower tummy and rubs slow circles on it, “relax your muscles, you’re too tense.”

“Sorry, it surprised me”, you say and follow instantly, shuddering because of how good it feels to relax. His fingers are filling you out so well, giving you just enough of a stretch that you are experiencing a constant wave of warm tingles.

“There we go, that’s so much better”, he praises and begins scissoring them carefully, “you’re doing such a good job, my lovely princess. Relax, my love, so good”, he talks you through the amazing sensation, switching his fond gaze between your wet pussy and glowing face.

“It’s so good”, you sigh, “I like it so much.”

“I love it too, princess”, he says and slips his thumb to your clit as a reward for being the most perfect.

And there you go, tensing up again. But this time for different reasons. You mewl, tilting your head back as your hips buck into his hand. All the teasing he did before left you feeling so sensitive that this simple touch is already too much.

“Relax for me, relax”, Yoongi says softly, rubbing your clit slowly.

“It’s hard when, when you m-make me wanna cum”, you stutter, writhing on the sheets.

“Cute”, Yoongi says, slipping his thumb from your clit even if that makes you whine for more.

“Edging noo, is…no”, you mumble, cracking him up.

“Whiney baby”, he teases, slipping his fingers out.

“Yoongi noo”, you whine, “I don’t have to cum, I lied.”

He laughs, “yeah sure. Relax princess, I’m getting the plug. Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you say, glancing down at it, “oh god, I’m so horny.”

“Me too, love.”

He rubs lube on it and connects it with your hole. He places his hands back on your tummy, sending you a comforting look.

“This will stretch you more than my fingers, but I believe in you”, he says and smiles, “but you can stop whenever, don’t forget that.”

“Just push it inside, please”, you beg, opening your legs wider.

Yoongi lets his eyes flit down to your middle. He applies pressure and after a second of struggle, the toy slips inside.

“Oh? Oh yeah that hah”, you chuckle and drop your head in the pillow.

“Too much?”

“Don’t stop, I’m good. It’s new, but I’m good”, you say, pushing into him. The toy slips deeper into you, faltering again when you reach the thickest part.

“Just one more time”, he encourages you and pushes gently.

“Yoongi”, you get out and then you reach for his hand to hold. He intertwines his fingers with you, looking at your face with his brows furrowed in concentration.

The plug slips inside, filling you out completely.

“Oh fuck”, you press out in a whisper, squeezing his hand.

“It’s bigger than my fingers, isn’t it?”

“Yeah?” you get out and mewl.

“You’re doing so well taking it that easily. I can take it out if you want.”

“No just…let me get used to it.”

“Okay”, Yoongi says and places himself over you. Like this, his hands are on each side of your head dimpling the pillow and his black hair hangs into his face. “I’m so fucking proud of you, princess love.”

“Yoongi…kiss me”, you plead, feeling how deeply affected you are by his praise. You relax around the toy and your tummy tingles like crazy, “I’m, I’m serious if you don’t kiss me soon I’ll, I’ll start cry-”

Yoongi interrupts you by kissing you deeply. Your brain turns off, your body shudders in relief. You are kissing him. You are kissing your Yoongi. And it’s paradise.

You reach for him with a whimper of his name, twisting the front of his shirt. Yoongi lowers himself to his elbows, bending his arm in a way which allows him to cradle your head and play with your hair. The kiss to your lips breaks, but he litters your face with kisses and that makes up for it.

“Don’t cry, princess”, he whispers, “I’m right here”, he promises, nuzzling into your neck. Neck kisses feel like heaven on normal days, but he’s got you so charged that you could cry out for him right now.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, grabbing a bundle of his hair.

“Keep me close, princess”, he sighs, kissing a path to your cheek, “you’re doing so well with everything, I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

You spill tears. They were happy tears. Yoongi doesn’t notice them, kissing a path to your lips. He claims them, swallowing the whimper you let out. His right hand smoothes over your hair while his left arm snakes under your back. With a small show of strength he lifts your upper body, pressing you against his chest. He uses enough pressure that you can feel how all those tight knots in your chest burst. You didn’t even know that you had them, but feeling his warmth on your chest in a gentle and constant pressure relieved you of stresses you had sitting deep inside you.

“I love you”, you press out because this is all you get out. Yoongi smiles against your lips, kissing his way back to your neck.

“I love you too, princess.”

He lowers you back to the sheets and slips his left hand to your side instead.

“I love you so much”, you press out and sob softly.

“I love you so much too, princess”, Yoongi says, kissing his way down to your tummy.

You don’t like that he stops cradling you like this, but you can’t even complain because he is worshipping your tummy. His big hands are gliding over your waist, holding you safely, while his tongue and lips take the paths they already took before. But unlike before, it makes you twist the fucking pillow in desperation.

“I’m gonna go insane, princess”, Yoongi lulls, “you smell so fucking sweet. You know that?”

“Please don’t pull away again”, you beg, writhing in his strong hands. He is mere inches away from your pussy, “if, if you pull away I-I’ll cry.”

He chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he says, “relax, my princess. I won’t pull away”, he whispers and buries his tongue between your folds.

“Oh my god! Yoongi!” you squeak put, closing your legs around his head and grabbing his hair with both hands.

Yoongi purrs, pushing your legs apart gently. He keeps his hands on your shaking thighs to rub them, purring around your clit as he sucks on her slowly.

“Yoongi!” you mewl, digging your head into the pillow as you arch your back. Your legs slip over his shoulders and kick his lower back.

“Mhm”, he grunts, punishing you by burying himself deeper.

“Yoongi please, holy fuck”, you sob, tugging at his hair to both push him closer and pull him away. You have no idea what you need more. A break or for him to never ever stop. And he barely even does anything. He merely purrs and sucks on your clit, includes the occasional lick and squeezes your thighs. Yoongi could eat your pussy differently. Trust, that he could be very different right now and yet this mere appetiser of what he could do is already enough to make you act like a pleasure dumb idiot.

“Yoongi”, another mewl of his name comes easy to you.

Yoongi answers you by breaking away from you and forcing that addictive fire in your pussy to die down again.

“Why?” you croak and sob, “Yoongi why?”

“You’re so cute, holy fuck I gotta fucking put you in my pocket, you cutest princess”, he babbles as he kisses a path down to your plugged hole.

He wraps his fingers around the base of the toy and with a kiss to your buttocks pulls it out of you. It feels warm and makes you moan. The girthiest part doesn’t hurt at all and the sensation of your hole closing up in sync with the toy getting thinner is unfamiliar but fucking addicting.

Yoongi wastes no unnecessary time. He is a smitten man on a mission. A mission to make his dream girl scream on his tongue. He dismisses the toy and grabs your hips. With just a little bit of his strength, he picks them up and tilts them so he can bury himself between your legs.

Your hole is still relaxed enough that he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He lets it grow until it’s a little longer than the plug was and it fills you out so well that he can feel your muscles trying to fight him.

“Yoongi”, his name slips off your tongue again and Yoongi feels your walls pulsate around his tongue. Your taste is richer than that of your pussy. Yoongi has to hump the mattress because of it, growling into you as he fucks you with his tongue.

“Oh god, holy fuck”, you moan, panting like crazy.

This feels as if you are getting the wettest and hottest toy stuck into you. You thought that getting your pussy fucked with it feels intense, but this is on a whole other level. You are so stretched out like this. Even more than you were when he plugged you. It doesn’t hurt at all. The kisses and touches and sweet licks made you so incredibly relaxed for him, his praises did the rest. So having his big, long tongue fuck your hole doesn’t hurt and yet it still feels as if you can’t do it. You shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t be allowed to feel so goddamn good. Your legs shake and try to close on him, but Yoongi shakes you off, burying himself deeper until the tip of his nose is buried in your pussy.

“Fucknmgn”, the curse is muffled by your body, but it still reaches your ears. Your scent is quite literally suffocating him and Yoongi lets you know just what this does to him by wiggling his tongue quickly and using his neck muscles to grind his nose all over your pussy.

“Why are you doing this?” you keen, throwing your arm over your eyes, “please stop, Yoongi. Please stop, please.”

“Hey”, he is off of you instantly, “hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“Please don’t do this, please just fuck me”, you beg, spilling tears, “I can’t take this anymore. Please just fuck me, please.”

Yoongi relaxes, slipping your legs from his shoulders to caress them instead.

“Don’t talk like this princess, I was so scared that I hurt you”, he whines, nudging you.

“It’s so good, I can’t breathe”, you whimper, sending him a blurry look, “I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.”

“Never”, he says, leaning down to kiss your tummy, “fuck, I just really fucked it for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Now I know how you taste in both holes”, he chuckles deeply, “fuck baby, don’t expect me to be normal from now on. I’m gonna fucking live between your legs from now on.”

You mewl, “please fuck me. Please!”

“Are you sure?” he asks as he nibbles on your inner thigh. He is so close to your pussy that he brushes against you every now and then, “can’t I taste you more? Please?”

“I, I’ll cum if you do”, you stutter.

“Mhm, you’re torturing me”, he rasps and bites you just hard enough that you squeak.

“Please”, you giggle, twisting his hair.

He chuckles, kissing the sensitive spot, “fine, I’ll get ready.”

“Please.”

Yoongi breaks away from you to undress. Finally his tight jeans stop squishing his swollen cock. Yoongi throws them on the ground angrily. They were so painful to be stuck in. He steps out of his briefs and slips his shirt off. Then he runs his hands through his long hair. It falls prettily, framing his features.

“Jeans are products of demons, no fucking joke”, he says, climbing back on bed, “I think I bruised my cock.”

You snicker, “oh no, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, just glad to be with you again”, he assures you, connecting himself with you by caressing your hip, “let me fix you, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Yoongi lifts you and places you onto the mattress with you resting on your side. He pushes the leg, which rests on top, up the mattress, making sure that it’s bent by the knee. He runs his hand along your stockings and then up to your ass at the back of your leg.

“There we go. That’s better, isn’t it?” he speaks softly.

“Yeah…” you croak, twisting the sheets. You need him so bad that it hurts.

“Tell me when you need a pillow”, he says and breaks the touch for the sake of getting his cock ready.

“I’m comfy”, you say.

“That’s good. Fuck ___, I’m so fucking hard you have no idea”, he lulls his words and a wet squelching sound fills the air. He is definitely jerking himself off with the lube. The thought makes you leak.

“You won’t grow, will you? I don’t think that I can handle this yet”, you ask shyly.

“No princess, I won’t grow. Don’t be scared”, he assures you.

“Okay, thank you for telling me that”, you say and turn your head. He is close enough that you can reach behind yourself and touch his hip, “please don’t hold back anymore.”

He smiles and lets you tug him closer, placing his hand on your hip.

“I love it when you’re acting this way”, he says, holding his cock by its base so he can guide it to your hole. He pushes at your hip, fixing your position gently. Like this, you are exposed to him. Yoongi stares at it with ruby eyes, rubbing his wet cockhead against your hole.

“So pretty”, he lulls, licking his lips, “can’t believe I had my tongue in there. You’re so goddamn pretty.”

“Please”, you beg, arching into him.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Perfect. You’re fucking perfect", Yoongi says and pushes into you.

The breach doesn’t hurt, but it’s unfamiliar. His cock is definitely bigger than any of the other amazing things you took up your ass tonight. His fingers were nice, the plug intense and his tongue maddening, but his cock is filling. The word isn’t the sexiest, but it’s the truth. You feel so whole now that he is slipping inside. Like a part missing has finally returned to you. You whimper and tense up, reaching for his hand instinctively.

“Hurts?” he asks.

You shake your head, giving him a pleading look to please keep going.

Yoongi smiles and squeezes your hand. His eyes flit back to where he disappears.

“Relax. I’ve got you”, he says and pushes deeper. His tummy tenses, and his brows furrow, “fuck. Relax my love, yeah? Relax”, his voice is shaking just a little.

“Yoongi, I’m so stuffed”, you mewl, looking at him with teary eyes. You are so glad that Yoongi filled you with his tongue before he did it with his cock. You don’t think that you could have handled how it is to truly feel him if it wasn’t for his tongue giving you the most intense sneak peek of it.

“Breathe for me, love. B-breathe oh fuck”, he falls to his hands, letting out a shaky moan. His hair falls into his face, “breathe. You gotta, gotta b-breathe.”

You can’t stop staring. His brows are furrowed, his lips curled back as he shows his fangs in a grunt. Being filled up by him starts to feel a million times better instantly. Which means a lot, because it already felt like heaven before that.

“Breathe baby, fucking breathe”, he gets out and moans, filling you with his last inch. “Mhngn”, he lets out, scrunching his nose up, “breathe”, he squeaks.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Mhm yeah, I’m fine. You just have the tightest ass ever, I’m fine”, he says in a pitched voice, making you laugh.

“Oh god, this is so funny”, you say.

“Don’t laugh, holy fuck”, he croaks and moans, grabbing your hand just to slam it into the sheets and pin it down. He rolls his hips into you in an involuntary thrust, his throat produces a little whimper.

“I can’t help it. I’m taking your cock, I’m happy”, you say between giggles.

“Fucking fuck, you’re gonna fucking kill me”, he presses out under his breath and somehow forces his eyes to open. He turns his head, looking down at you, “you’re such a fucking goddess. Holy fuck.”

You squirm, clenching around him. You try to reach for his face, but can’t as he pins you down. So you end up holding his wrist with your other hand, mewling his name as you tense around him again.

“Wanna move”, he lulls.

“Please move.”

Yoongi pulls out halfway so he can roll into you smoothly. The sensation feels electric, forcing an honest and loud moan out of you.

“Yes princess, keep moaning for me. I fucking love it when you do”, he encourages you, ending it with a small whimper again, “I’m gonna fucking cry. You’re so tight, holy fuck”, he whispers under his breath, chasing you in deep rolls of his hips.

In and out, in and out. Feeling each of those movements so quickly after the other is a whole other experience. When he played with your hole or stuffed it, you didn’t have this constant change. But now you do and it’s making you gasp for air.

“That’s it, princess. Keep breathing”, his voice is hoarse from exhaustion, “I’m gonna have to fucking nut soon, but don’t mind me.”

“God, don’t tell me that, you’re making me laugh again”, you say, having to crack up.

“Yeah fuck, it’s happening”, he says and groans, letting his mouth fall open. His hand squeezes yours as his cock throbs deep inside you, “you’re so fucking mean”, he whines, shaking atop of you.

“Yoongi”, you gasp and moan, “Yoongi, holy fuck. Are you actually?”

“Yeah…baby”, he purrs.

It sticks to your insides warm and wet. He is actually cumming right now. Two minutes and he is a goner. The thought that it is your ass which broke him so soon, makes you dizzy. You chase him with rolls of your hips, tensing up at the feeling. You’re so tight and now you're spreading his cum all over his cock, getting messy in the process. He slips in and out of you so much better, filling your veins with ecstatic pleasure.

“Yeah, yah, mhm”, he lets out, lowering his head to kiss your cheek, “fuck”, he chuckles, “sorry for that, I’d have died if I didn’t let go.”

“It’s fine. Just…I want more.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good now. Fuck princess”, he straightens up, grabbing your leg to bend it and open you up for him, “imma fuck that bred, little hole until you’re screaming”, he rasps, finally moving his hips. He starts off in a slow, yet deep rhythm, spreading you open for him with a strong hand pushing down on your hip and therefore keeping it tilted just for him. It gives your muscles a gentle stretch and opens you up so well for him that you can feel how you move around him.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, tilting your head back as your mouth falls open.

“Does it hurt? I can slow down”, he speaks with a deep rasp on his voice. You know that overstimulation is keeping his cock sensitive, but because you’re dating a literal maniac he uses the pain as motivation to get you off.

“Don’t slow, please faster”, you beg.

He speeds up, putting a smooth roll of his hips into the movements. His fingers dimple your flesh, his naked thighs collide with the back of your legs and his cock shapes your creamed hole. Like this, his hair slaps into his face each time he moves, forcing him to keep his eyes closed in order not to the get it all in them. He grunts each time he bottoms out, giving you glimpses of his fangs whenever he pulls his lips back.

“More, I need more”, you beg.

“Yeah? Reach into the bag, there’s a vibe in there.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You know exactly where to look. You used the toy on too many occasions to count. With trembling fingers you turn it on and press it to your clit.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, writhing under him.

“That’s it, princess. Make yourself feel good. Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect”, he praises, using the grip he has on your thigh to pull you onto his cock. He meets his own movements in the middle, rolling his hips into you.

“It’s a lot”, you mewl.

“Yeah? I’ll slow down”, he assures you, but you start rutting back into him instantly, “fuck princess”, he is laughing lazily, “stop whining ‘bout it bein’ too much when you don’ mean it”, he lulls, connecting his hand with your buttock in a gentle spank, “so fuckin’ naughty.”

“More”, you beg, “you’re making me cum. More.”

Yoongi spanks you gently, gripping the flesh afterwards to part you and stuff you with his cock. His creamy cum is leaking out of you and covering his cock. The quick movements of his hips turned it all white and milky by now. Yoongi fucks it right back into you, covering your stretched rim with it and parts of his dark pubes. The view motivates him to fuck you deeper, harder, better.

“You’re so fucking perfect being all bred by me. My own perfect cum goddess”, he pants, slamming into you so hard that his balls slap your ass.

You mewl for more, clenching around him. And so Yoongi gives it to you. He spanks your ass, holding you open afterwards to watch his cock disappear inside your tight hole.

“Now”, you croak and yelp up.

“Yes fuck”, Yoongi growls, burying himself to the hilt and staying right there so he can feel you pulsate and throb, “you’re so fucking perfect, shit princess so perfect.”

“It feels so good”, you mewl, shaking like crazy as your body fills with warmth, “Yoongi, it feels so good.”

“I know baby, I know. Keep it right there, you’re not done yet”, he says and begins moving again. Slowly at first because he is aware that you never experienced cock up your ass so soon after your high. You are tight. So goddamn tight that if Yoongi hadn’t climaxed already, he would have done so right now. He grinds his teeth and growls deeply, dimpling your flesh from gripping you so tightly, “keep breathin’ baby, I’m not done. You gotta get fucked more, my perfect woman.”

“Yoongi”, his name leaves you like a prayer. You push back into him, thanking yourself for doing so as Yoongi uses the opportunity to tug you into another position. Resting on your tummy and with your hips held up by him. You use zero strength, shaking in his hands as Yoongi keeps pulling you onto his creamed cock.

“Such a pretty princess, you’re made for my cock. It’s fucking insane how good you feel”, he praises and moans in a deep growl. His hips are angled differently this way.

“What are you doing?” you mewl, kicking the sheets. You try to writhe away from him for the sole reason of being scared of how hard you are falling. You can feel his cock hit your g-spot this way. You know that he is still in your ass, as you feel stuffed to the brim, but he is still hitting your g-spot. He shouldn’t be able to do this to you and yet he is. You can’t handle it, it’s too good. You can’t handle it. “What are you doing?” you sob, barely holding onto the vibrator by now.

“Keep the vibe there, princess”, Yoongi orders you, eyes glued to your ass. He can’t believe how beautiful you look when he fucks you.

“What are you doing? Yoongi please”, your voice is pitched in pleasure, your legs are shaking like crazy.

“You know what I’m doing. I’m giving it to you how you fucking deserve it. Feel how I give it to you?” he says, slamming his hips into you. Your ass is filled to the brim and your g-spot gets hit.

You moan his name, arching into him. This is going to break you into a million pieces.

“Yeah you do. You’re such a perfect, fucking woman, you deserve everything. Fucking everything. Fuck”, he growls the last word, throwing his head back as his body falls into the sensations. His hair tickles his shoulders this way, reflecting the deep shine of your bedside lamp. His lips part, glistening in the lights and looking especially pink.

Not that you can see any of this as you are falling right with him with your face buried in the pillow, moaning like crazy as he scrambles your insides in the best way possible. Night has been kissing the earth for way too many minutes to count and yet you haven’t noticed yet. He makes you see the brightest colours behind your closed lids. A warm summer rain has started to fall on the earth and even that you didn’t notice as all you can hear are Yoongi’s ecstatic grunts and your bodies connecting in sinful movements. Also the hum of the vibrator and it’s fucking taunting it. Your clit is going to burst if you keep pressing it on there and yet you don’t want to take it away. You rub a small circle, regretting instantly as you feel how this forces your body to fall even harder.

“You’re making me cum”, you mewl with your pussy throbbing around nothing and his cock drilling your ass so good it feels like he is rewriting your definition of pleasure.

“Don’t hold back, love. Fall into it, I’m right here. Fade into me, baby”, he encourages you, fucking his cock into you as deep as possible and hitting your g-spot exactly where you are the most sensitive.

“Yoongi!” you yelp, breaking around him.

“Yes princess, that’s what I want from you”, Yoongi growls, picking you up even if you are shaking like crazy. He sits back onto his heels and bounces you on his lap. You are kneeling, barely holding your head up straight, “you perfect fucking goddess, cum for me”, he spits and presses his hand into your tummy with just enough pressure that you can physically feel how he is squeezing your g-spot against his cock.

It feels like there is no barrier between him and your favourite spot. You scream up, dropping the vibrator. At least you try to as before it slips out of your fingers, Yoongi takes your hand and presses it back against your clit. He hugs your waist this way, slamming his hips into you so harshly the room fills with loud sounds of skin slapping against skin and the bedposts croaking for help.

“Don’t stop”, he growls, “you perfect woman are gonna keep that pressed there until you’re wetting my fucking thighs.”

“Yoongi, I can’t”, you sob, reaching behind yourself just so you can grip him. You manage to grab a bundle of his hair, twisting it painfully.

Yoongi moans against your neck, squeezing you closer by your tummy. The pressure in it grows, now it actually feels as if he was fucking you without any barriers. But you know that he is. You know because your stretched hole has been convulsing around his cock ever since he started drilling you this way.

And you can’t take it anymore. The vibrator on your clit hurts so much, the pressure in your tummy is too much and his cock is ruining your ass. And there is this addictive feeling of having his naked, sweaty and hot body pressed against yours.

You break apart, screaming his name as you almost rip out his hair. And Yoongi growls like a fucking animal, fucking and squeezing and holding you hostage until you finally act how he wants you to act and you wet his thighs in harsh, strong spurts of warm pleasure.

“Yes princess. Fuck, ___”, he moans and fills you with his cum. You smell so good and feel so tight around him, Yoongi just has to make sure that the last thing your hot walls feel is his creamy cum marking you as his’. They should remember who can stretch and fuck and drill them so good. Moaning and panting like crazy, he fucks you both through your highs, milking your bodies dry until they can’t give any more.

“No more, please. Actually stop”, you beg once the fire of pleasure turned into the painful burn of overstimulation and his cock feels painfully big in your tight ass.

“You’re already done”, Yoongi speaks gently, turning off the vibrator and throwing it to the side, “take a deep breath, I’m lifting you.”

You follow, releasing it in a loud gasp as he slides you off of him. His cum squirts out of you instantly, ruining even more of his lap.

“Sorry, oh god”, you whimper, trying to clench.

“It’s okay, let it happen”, he soothes you, “you did so well, my love. Don’t worry about the mess, just relax”, he says and places you in the sheets as gently as possible.

He drapes his arm over you, resting on his hand so he can nuzzle into the side of your face and kiss you.

“I’m so proud of you, you did amazing”, he praises.

“I’m, I’m”, you stutter, shivering like crazy.

Yoongi presses himself closer, warming you with the naked skin on skin contact.

“I’ll get something to clean you and then you can already slip under the sheets, yeah?”

You nod your head, looking up at him with teary eyes. He dries your cheeks, holding your face safely.

“Does anything hurt?” he asks.

“No”, your voice is hoarse, “Yoongi?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I felt you against my g-spot.”

He smiles, “I know. Did you like it?”

“Yes”, you whisper and giggle.

“I loved it too, my princess”, he says and kisses your forehead, “you did fucking amazing for your first time. You took me so, so well.”

“It was the best first time ever”, you say, wiggling happily, “you’re the best person ever, Yoongi Boongie.”

“Mhm”, he pecks your cheek, “no, you are. Now excuse me for a moment, I’ll clean us up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course, my love.”

“I’m so happy with you.”

Yoongi feels his tummy flutter, “I’m so fucking happy too, you have no idea.”

He cleans your bodies, brings you water and changes the sheets. He talks about the experience with you in great detail as he does all those things, listening to your words with great interest and speaking his own with a warm sparkle in his eyes. You both come to the same conclusion that you really needed to do it again in the near future. Afterwards, he tucks you into bed and plays with your hair because you asked him if he could. And you feel so well taken care of that you could burst into the most colourful of fireworks.

The rain is loud on the roof above your heads, filling the room with a constant pitter patter. His face is mere inches away from yours as you share a pillow. Your heads are almost hidden under the blanket, looking out just enough that you can still breathe. He is still caressing your face and head. You are this close to falling asleep, but don’t want to close your eyes. You don’t want to miss out on his face. His hair is all messy, but in a pretty, breathtaking kind of way and his features are looking so pretty in the dim lights. He is truly the most beautiful person ever and your heart races like crazy when you think about the fact that he is yours.

“Should we buy a house here?” he breaks the comfortable silence in a soft spoken voice.

“What do you mean?” you answer him with your voice lowered as well.

“We could buy a house here. With a view of the ocean and a sun flooded kitchen overseeing the garden”, he says, “let’s buy one that needs renovating, so we can do it together. I have ideas for the living room. I’m thinking conversation pit with a huge sofa to cuddle on. Maybe mould it outta clay, paint it blue, but you’re better with colours so I need your advice on that. And I want a bathtub in the bathroom, a big one so we both fit.”

“You wanna buy a house with me?” you ask in a trembling voice.

“I’d buy a castle with you, but we already have one”, he says, making you giggle and sniffle at the same time. He chuckles, booping your nose with his pointer finger.

“Yoongs, I don’t know what to say”, you get out, blinking rapidly.

“Yes, maybe?”

“You know my answer already, my beloved.”

“Please say it, it’ll feel so good.”

You smile, spilling tears, “yes Yoongs, let’s buy a fucking house here and get a goddamn conversation pit in the living room and a huge bathtub in the bathroom and, and let’s plant food in the garden and goddamn build a path to the beach. Goddamn it.”

Yoongi smiles, tearing up without ever spilling them.

“My love”, he whispers, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over your skin, “you’re my fucking everything.”

“You’re my fucking everything too, my love”, you say, closing the distance between you and him to kiss him.

Yoongi wraps his arms around and rolls you to your back, getting lost in the kiss with you as happy giggles rumble in his chest.

Days here at the coast are good. Great. Perfect. The days here are perfect.

499 notes · View notes

hannie-dul-set · 4 months

Text

karma comes in the form of vehicular accidents and designer leather jackets. — [preview].

SYNOPSIS. when you’re nearly run over by a car, and said car happens to be a porsche 918 spyder, your broke ass knows better than to let this one in a million miracle slip by.

PAIRING. shen quanrui x female! reader. GENRE. emotionally-stunted idiots to lovers, implied college! au, rich boy x not-so-rich girl trope but neither of them are normal! they’re both not well adjusted! mc is an actual scammer and ricky’s love language is throwing out exorbitant amounts of cash, romance, humor, angst if you squint but i prefer it when things are stupid, suggestive. WARNINGS. swearing, probably a number of illegal things, dubious medical practices, scamming, gold-digging, mild manipulation, a not very healthy dynamic at first but we’ll get there, more tba. WORD COUNT. teaser: 915 | full fic: est. 15-18k.

RELEASE DATE. within january, maybe. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.

NOTE. hello riyangi nation i have another insanity-driven wip to offer. hopefully i go crazy again and write 4-5k a day like my last ricky longfic HAHAHHAHAH. this one has a bit more plot, a bit more seriousness, but still on the spectrum of unhinged!!! hope u enjoy.

preview under the cut.

IT’S A DOG EAT DOG WORLD OUT THERE. You’ve learned this lesson time and time again, ever since the early age of six— when your father got kicked out from his own start-up thanks to his greedy cousins, when you got in trouble for punching a classmate in first grade because he lifted up your skirt but the fucker was the grandson of your primary school’s dead, and when your high school scholarship got screwed over because “your parents unfortunately don’t support the school enough,” and you flipped off your home teacher all while calling him an ass-kissing, money-grabbing piece of shit.

Well, you were forced to transfer after that.

At least your new school didn’t base their scholarship grants on fucking PTA donations instead of grades.

From then on, you’ve learned that the only way to survive is to screw people over before getting screwed over yourself. There’s no point being nice. You can’t bother being a doormat to people who don’t even contribute a cent to your rent. You’re not wasting your smiles for people you can’t use.

Maybe it’s how you’ve grown to be so opportunistic, because the moment you and a friend were told that only one of you could get a full ride to Yonsei University— you didn’t think twice to cut him off. You stopped sharing your notes. You stopped studying together because why should you be nice to your competition? He was more well off than you anyway. His future doesn’t rely on handouts like it yours does.

Bottomline, yes, you’re not the nicest person in the world. Sure, you screwed over some strangers opting to go to the same job interview as you by giving them the wrong directions. Maybe you cut yourself off from your parents the moment you turned legal when their debt started getting to them and they started relying on you to get out of the pitfall instead of pulling their own fucking weigh. Yes, you’re not a good person. You’re fully aware of that.

Which is why you can’t exactly say fuck you to god when karma comes to bite you in the ass via a car accident on your way to your weekend work shift.

The dead and quiet road you usually cross is now filled with noises of panic.

“Oh my god— dude! Call an ambulance!”

Your lungs hit asphalt and your head starts ringing. A pained hiss slips through gritted teeth. Something’s broken, you grunt, or at the very least not how it should be based on the sharp pain you’re feeling on the arm wedged between your body and the rough and dusty road. “Are they dead?!” you hear someone yell, followed by a car door swinging and footsteps running closer, yet your eyes remain squeezed shut from the blinding headlights and the aching of your entire body.

But it’s not the pain you’re dwelling on. No. It’s the hospital bills and the inevitable days off you’d have to take thanks to your god forsaken fucking luck.

The car should’ve just killed you on the spot.

“Are you okay?!”

However when you finally open your eyes and recognize the embodiment of your karma body slamming you into the ground in the form of a freaking Porsche, your worries suddenly get washed away into oblivion.

Holy shit, you’re fully conscious now. You’ve just hit the jackpot.

“O—oh, she’s awake, she’s awake! Gyuvin—”

Whoa.

There’s a person hovering above you. Rather, the person’s gold gilded necklace is dangling in front of your face. This is more than a jackpot. This is better that the fucking lottery.

“What—what do I do?”

“Is she responsive?!”

“U—uhm— are you okay?” Pretty boy that you assume is the one who nearly killed you is flitting his eyes in panic and is unsure with what to do with his hands. His face aside, the guy is decked out in designer clothing. You don’t miss the engravings on his jacket, the shiny glints of gold coiled around his panicked fingers. You’re not letting his chance slip away. You let out a grunt of pain and start folding into yourself. “Ahh, I don’t think she’s okay! What’s the number for 119?!”

Half acting. Half actually fucking hurting because ow. Maybe you did break something.

“I don’t know! Taerae, what’s the number for—”

“Are you two stupid?!”

Well shit. The pain stops paining because if they bring you to a hospital different from the one you have in mind, it’d be a loss for you. So you play it up even more. “A—ah, I think something’s broken,” you wince. Pretty boy drops his phone and tries helping you prop yourself up.

“Crap. I think it’ll take too long if we call an ambulance,” says one of his companions behind him. “H—hey, do you mind if we just take you to the hospital right now?”

Now, this doesn’t sound safe. Around three men in their early twenties with very evidently no first aid experience delivering an injured woman to the hospital with what you think is a two-seater car is a recipe for disaster. You’re still on the dirty ground, arm definitely broken, with a rich guy looking like he’s about to start crying at any moment very hesitantly trying his best to help you sit up.

They’re waiting for your answer. And the answer is pretty obvious.

“Yes, please. Thank you!”

Because if you get even more injured along the way, that’ll simply be an extra bonus for you.

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