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#It was... funny.... never want to experience the same again and hope you will not too
tapakah0 · 5 months
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eustasskidagenda · 6 months
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anon asked: Hi! Jumping into your ask box to continue the 'afraid of having sex' series. Still with a female reader and the exact same prompt. But this time, with Usopp & Sabo because they are underrated. And also with Ace, Shanks and Mihawk. We need the whole cast with this headcanon! Ty and anon <3
Oh damn, let's go for a round 3 with some soft/dilf/underated boys! I'm so happy to receive a request with Sabo ♡ And sure, a round 4 with more underrated characters would be funny, especially with Killer & Marco. Anyway, for the moment, let's go for Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk :D Thank you for requesting, I hope the outcome will match your expectations!
☆ Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk with a s/o afraid of having sex
CW (generals): MDNI, smut, v!sex, f!reader, more are listed under each character 
WC : 3K
⇢ You can read the part one here and the part two here 
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Usopp 
CW : virgin!Usopp, fingering (reader receiving),  oral sex (reader/Usopp receiving), slight pet name (babe), slight dirty talk, protected sex 
(Aw, poor Usopp is probably really stressed too)
Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Due to his lie about his experience, he would feel extremely anxious. He claimed to have had sex many times, but it was a total lie. He's a virgin. When you confess that you're afraid because it's been a while since your last sex, he's relieved. At least you're nervous together, isn't that nice? Nevertheless, he is also ashamed and embarrassed by his deceit. He wants to be honest like you have been with him! But he's so nervous about your reaction.
"Y/N… I lied… I mean… I may exaggerate a bit my experience…" he would babble, avoiding your gaze. "It's possible that… this actually is my first time..." while fidgeting nervously and sweating wildly.
He's confused when you burst into laughter. "It was quite obvious to me. You're a bad liar." 
Poor Usopp is even more flustered. "Still, you have to make it for your lie." 
Even if you're not mad at him, he's still ashamed and jittery. Maybe as much as you, or even more. His lips would gently touch yours, and his shaky hands would roam all over your body. 
Please, guide this poor boy. Tell him how to pleasure you. 
His hands would be a bit butterfingered while circling your clit or fondling your breasts. Luckily, he cares about your needs and has a creative mind, so he would be pretty good at figuring out how your body works. 
Eager boy. He would stare intently at your pussy, astonished by its increasing wetness. He would never be satisfied. The way you squirm, moan and clench around his fingers is mesmerizing. 
"Babe, you're so wet down there. Love how you clench around me. Please do the same for my cock." 
And if you decide to go down on him… damn, Usopp would just turn into a whimpering, whiny mess. Would probably cum because he can't handle how good your mouth feels around his member.
Poor boy would be so embarrassed to cum that fast.
He would make an effort to repay the favor. But finding the right angle with his long nose is quite a challenge. "Ouch, my nose" all the two seconds. 
Again, eager boy. He would remain between your legs throughout the entire day and still crave more. Your pussy tastes and feels so good for his sanity. Please keep moaning his name, it's music to his ears. And if you pull on his hair, burying his head against your folds, he's in heaven. 
He's a conscientious boy, so he would wear a condom, use lube, and make sure you're relaxed enough. 
He would try to be as close to you as possible while slowly burying himself within you. Your walls stretching around his thick girth would be so captivating for him. 
"You're alright? Can I keep going?" 
A lot of shudders, shaky hands on your hips while he slowly starts to thrust into your tightness. "Babe, you feel so good clenching around me…" 
He would absolutely love to watch his cock covered with your wetness sliding in and out of you.
Wouldn't last that long because it's so overwhelming for him. But damn, he's so eager to make you squirm and moan all night (and all the next day...) He's already addicted to your body.
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Sabo
CW : Dirty talk, fingering and oral sex (reader receiving), mention of choking, mention of spanking, slight teasing, protected sex, slight praises, slight pet name (sweetie)
Sabo is probably a very kinky boy. Pretty sure he would enjoy wrapping his claws around your neck and choking you. Or to make you wear his hat while you ride him. Or use his gloves to spank you, or... yeah, the list is endless. However, his soul is also kind and compassionate. He's a revolutionary, a big brother, and a protective person who craves freedom and justice. So if you're afraid because it's been a long time or nervous about getting hurt, he would be really nice to you.
"Sure sweetie, we'll take it slow." with a big, reassuring smile. 
Again, revolutionary boy. He would ensure that you are comfortable with each action and constantly verify your consent. "You're alright?" , "Can I touch you there?", "Can I keep going?"
"You're so beautiful" while looking at your naked body, covering it with a lot of sweet kisses along your collarbone, neck, breasts and lower stomach. He would be delighted to stroke your breasts for hours, as they feel so warm and soft in his hands. 
"Can I take them off?" While reaching for your panties.
Upon your nod, he would pull your panties down your legs with his teeth. Just to tease you. He would look at you, leaving a kiss on your inner thighs. He's good  (and a god) when it comes to anticipation. 
"You look so pretty for me. Want me to go down on you?" 
He would gently massage your legs with his thumbs, circling your inner thighs as you nod. The more you shiver and squirm in need, the more he feels satisfied with himself. "Need me so bad, Y/N?" 
Once more, kinky boy. He would love to spread your legs wide open to get a better look at your pussy clenching around nothing. Before finally going down on you. And damn, Sabo is a god when it comes to eating you out. He's really attentive to your needs and always cares about your reactions. He will follow your leads if you guide him or tell him what you like. Please, bury his head against your wet folds. He likes that. The way your body arching, the way you moan, beg, shudder, cry out while he circles your clit. It's music to his ear. If you cum against his lips, then, Sabo would be in pure heaven.
"Look at how wet you are. Can't wait to fill you up." While pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. And as he pulls them off, oh, sure, he would show you how wet you are because he's a tease. Before licking his fingers covered in your wetness. "You taste so good. I bet you pussy will be amazing around my cock."
If you tell him you're ready for more, Sabo, being a smart and responsible boy, would use a condom and lube.
"Shit… you're so tight. You're okay? Want me to stop?" While slowly burying his length inside you.  "That's my brave girl, taking all of my cock so well."
Sabo would make an effort to stay soft and sweet just for you. But you feel too good around him, how you clench and spasm around his girth, your tightness, and wetness... it’s too much for him.
"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside you."
He would let out a shaky breath, gently steadying you while thrusting into you. Really beautiful moans close to your ears. 
And really clingy during the aftercare. 
(In his mind, he's already thinking about your next round and how his claws would look awesome on your throat.)
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Ace
CW : creative use of DF (in a soft/sweet way), slight praises, fingering, face sitting, protected sex, slight dirty talk
If you explain to Ace that you're always nervous and stressed during sex, his first reaction is to panic. And to ask for help from Marco, because Ace is kind and afraid of hurting you. Or not being good enough for you. So he needs some advice, and well, Marco is a doctor. 
Once he's more informed, the next time you're having a passionate making-out session, Ace would try his best to reassure you and be extra sweet for you.
In fact, he doesn't have a lot of experience. He always thinks he's not worthy. So it's not easy for him to be intimate, and random hookups are not something he's comfortable with. 
He would sit you on his laps and cherish every inch of your body. Your curves are a sight to behold. He feels lucky to touch you. His hands are probably shaking a bit because he's both nervous and excited. He would slowly reach for your bottom and cup your ass cheeks with his hands. "I need you so bad, Y/N" 
He would always make certain that you are okay with every action. Like, asking you before touching your breasts, taking off your clothes etc. Such a sweet boy. 
He would just push your panties to the side, feeling the heat between your thighs. "Can I?" His voice thick with need and adoration. Your tightness and warmth around Ace's fingers would make him mesmerized. He would hold you tight while fingering you until you beg and beg for more.
Even if his cock is throbbing with need, but he would be focused on you, and only you. "You're so pretty. Feel how hard I am for you?" 
"You taste so good. I want more" while licking his fingers. 
He would ask you to sit on his face. Because he's so eager. He loves your body, how you feel, how you taste, and the warmth of your thighs pressed against his face. He would love to feel you squirm as he circles your cheek with his fingers and push the tip of his tongue inside you. 
Would playfully slap your ass or grip it to press your pussy more firmly against his lips.
When you tell him you're ready for more, Ace would feel a bit nervous again. So he would let you straddle him. At least you can control the depth. Plus, your body is beautiful, so cowgirl is an awesome position to watch all of your curves again and again.
"Fuck, you're amazing"
Another responsible boy, he would use a condom. Ace is too frightened to have a child by accident. 
He would hold your hips tightly and the moment his cockhead starts to stretch your walls, Ace would turn into a moaning mess because it feels too good for his poor soul. 
"Y/N, you feel so damn good." The more you impale yourself on his length, the more Ace would moan. The sensation is too overwhelming for him, he can't handle it. 
"You're taking me so well. You're alright? You feel me right there?" While gently rubbing his palms along your lower stomach. And if it hurts a bit, he would use his DF to gently massage your lower stomach, soothing you with the nice warmth. 
Ace will lay you on your back and nuzzle his head on your neck once you feel comfortable and relaxed. Although his thrusts are gentle, you can still feel the force behind them. He’s probably holding back a bit. He would be fond of the way you squirm when the cold pearls of his collar touch your skin. 
Beautiful, really beautiful moans. 
And would randomly fall asleep on you after he cum. With his cock still inside you.
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Shanks 
CW : face sitting, slight praises, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, pet name (pretty girl), slight size kink, teasing
Shanks may be kinky as Sabo, but if you're already nervous due to stress, he won't bend you over the table to fuck you senseless. 
"Aw, my pretty girl is stressed? Why? Because I'm too big?" with a playful smile on his lips. He's such a tease.
He would be a little goofy, with some silly dad jokes that would make you laugh. Shanks is not always goofy. I mean, if you want him to fuck you rough, he can. But if you're nervous, then he won't mind making things extra fun. The more you laugh, the less nervous you are after all, and that's all he wants. He likes when sex is enjoyable and natural. 
"Maybe I'm armless, but at least, I'm pretty good with my last hand. Wanna try?" with a playful grin.
And damn, he's right. He is talented, even if he has only one hand. The easiest position for Shanks is to sit on his face. First, you're pretty and he loves feeling your juice drip on his chin. Secondly, he's sure he won't lose his balance and just fall on you randomly. Keyword: goofy.
Your pussy's taste would be so intoxicating. Perhaps even better than alcohol. With his hand, he would circle your clit with his thumb and push two thick fingers inside you. You can't help but cum as he stimulates you with his hand and tongue. 
"Mh, that's my pretty girl, all wet and open for me. Look at how my fingers are sliding with ease. I bet you're ready for my cock?" 
He would love how you feel flushed and flustered by his words. Such a tease. 
As you look at his thick and long cock twitching in need, he would just laugh playfully. "Aw pretty girl, don't be afraid, it doesn't bite. I'll stretch you out juuuust nice." 
Shanks is probably a bit lazy sometimes and also loves to look at his girl, so his favorite position is always when you're on top of him. He enjoys observing your curves and how you use him for your own pleasure. 
"Ride me, don't be lazy." 
(So sassy.)
"That's it, take me all the way in." As you gradually impale yourself onto his thick length. Despite your nervousness, he did a fantastic job of soothing you. He will try to alleviate your pain with more silly jokes if it's still painful. "Atta girl" as he's finally balls deep inside of you. 
He would love to watch you bounce up and down as you ride him. His gaze would be fixed on your breasts or his throbbing cock, sliding in and out, all covered by your wetness. "Fuck, you're really swallowing me. You like how nice I'm stretching you?" 
"You're riding me so well. You love riding your captain, huh?" He would squeeze your breasts or ass playfully while you're doing all the work. And, because he's a tease, he would circle your clit with his thumb. He would laugh as you squirm and coat his cock with your juice. "What's wrong, pretty girl?" 
Really chatty and playful throughout the whole time. If you tease him about his missing arm, he would laugh first. If you continue, be ready for him to fuck you senseless, pull on your hair, spank you, and even bite you. "Say that again?" 
(Sure, he would know you're unable to answer because of his relentless pounding. That’s too bad, right?)
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Mihawk 
CW : slight size kink, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), mention of knife play, slight praises, slight dirty talk, protected sex 
Mihawk is a gentleman. While he may have some kinks, sex with him is always about consent and respect. Even when he's extra rough.
So if you tell him you're really stressed because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and because of his size… he would be extra careful. 
Mihawk is really classy, so first thing first, he would run you a hot bath for the both of you. And tell you a couple of times how beautiful your bare body is. Gently, he would kiss all of your wet skin, easing your fears, and fondling your breasts. It's probably a bit scary to be so intimate with Mihawk, because his piercing eyes are really impressive. But he's a god when it comes to observing your reactions and learning from them. 
If you lean against his torso, his cock will be pressed against your back. All throbbing with need. But he won't ask you anything: he wants to satisfy you and only you. 
He would love the feeling of your breasts against his palms and sucking on your nipples. "I'm sure you're already all wet for me." Yes, even with the water, he would still know. Again, piercing eyes. "Wanna bet? Let's find out" 
And then, he would carry you to the bedrooms. Extra luxurious and precious bedsheets. The texture is heavenly on your skin. Mihawk would kiss every inch of your body, then spread your thighs. "Look like I was right" with a slight grin, before burying his head between your legs. 
Again, he's all about anticipation and elegance. He won't lick your folds as if he were a savage without manners. His first step would be to kiss your inner thighs. Keyword: teasing. He wants to see you squirm and loves to watch how wet you are already, just for a bit of teasing and anticipation. Perhaps he has a fantasy about running his sword (the small one around his neck) along your inner legs. In a soft way, sure. But he won't do it because you're already anxious.
And when he finally starts to eat you out, damn, it's pure bliss. He would constantly look at you with his hawk eyes to gauge your reactions. Figuring out how your body is working won't take him a long time. Be prepared to cum at least once against his lips. "Stay still." If you squirm too much because it feels too good.
After you cum, he would reach for your face and lips and kiss you. "You like how you taste? Because I do." With a playful grin. 
Another smart man, so he would both use a condom and lube. To reassure you, he would allow you to ride him. As you slowly sink yourself down his length, Mihawk would fall into an exquisite loss of control. 
While holding onto your hips or bedsheets, he would exhale a shaky breath. "You're so tight, I love how you clench around me." While circling your clit with his thumb to ease your potential pain. 
"You're riding me so well. That's my girl." Before giving you his hat. So now, you're a real cowgirl. Seeing his girl riding him with his hat would make his cock throb with need. His hands would tightly hold your hips to help you move up and down his length. The sloshing noises, your moans, shudders, how you clench around him, how your juice is dripping down his cock, how your breasts are bouncing with each thrust… it's too much to handle for his sake. 
"You're so pretty for me." 
He would end up really needy to feel your skin against his. Get ready to stay still on your back as he fucks you with a strong yet gentle pace. A lot of eye contact and intertwining fingers. 
And his deep sighs, maybe even low grunts. A pure delight.
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m00nh1gh · 3 months
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WICKED GAMES
Hyunjin x reader
While doing some cleaning in the house, you were met with a box you hadn't seen in years.
Contains: Spitting, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, a bit of biting, water (???), fingering, cum eating.
Word count: 2.3k.
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It was this time of the year when you and your boyfriend decided to do a massive cleaning of the house, which also meant throwing or giving stuff away. You'd started early in the morning and the sun was already starting to set when you finally moved to the last room: the bedroom.
Your knees hurt from being on the floor for so long. You were surrounded by old clothes to sort out. Hyunjin was in the big wardrobe, also throwing his clothes on the floor to empty the small space. When everything was finally gone from the wardrobe, he found a black box on the floor. Frowning, he crouched down and opened the box carefully.
“Y/n?”
You hummed in response, still folding your clothes on the floor. You heard your boyfriend walking over to you and sitting down in front of you, and only did you look up at him when you saw the contents of the box.
“What's all this?”
Looking back down at the incense sticks, pendulums, crystals and books, a smile crept up on your face. Memories of your teenage years flooded through your mind and you found yourself giggling.
“That's from when Lisa and I were into witchcraft,” you picked your favorite pendulum up. It was a beautiful amethyst. You brought it closer to your chest, watching it shake in your hold. It would need to be charged and cleansed.
“You never told me about this.
- Well, now you know. Now that I think about it, maybe I should get back into tarot.
- I'd like a reading from you,” he smirked and you picked a heart-shaped rose quartz up.
“I miss this so much, you have no idea.
- Why'd you stop?
- I don't know, I guess I lost my motivation. Besides, not everyone believes in all this, so I couldn't really talk about it with anyone. I was lucky Lisa was into it too.
- I see,” he rummaged through the box and picked a small red book from it. “Sexy Answers Book. Interesting,” he chuckled and you rolled your eyes with a stupid smile on your face again.
“We bought it as a joke,” you took the book away from him and you opened it upside down at a random page. Then, you did the same, but this time, the book was the right way up. “The book says I should put my hands on your feet.
- Ew,” he made a disgusted face and you laughed. He took the book again and did the same as you. “Pinch your right hip? Gladly,” he reached out to pinch your hip and you dodged with a squeal.
“Ugh, you should've shown me this book earlier. I wanna try it seriously,” Hyunjin said, placing the book back in the box.
“Yeah, but let's finish this before,” you agreed as you went back to sorting your clothes out.
~
“Y/n~!
- Yes?” You raised your eyebrow at his sudden change in behavior, only seconds earlier he was whining about not wanting to work tomorrow.
He lay on top of you, his strong arms enveloping your waist as he rubbed his cheek against your cleavage.
“Wanna try the book?” Your fingers found their way to his pretty black hair, gently combing it as you hummed.
“You sure you wanna do this?
- Yes,” he left a small kiss on your collarbone and you smiled fondly. He looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes and you laughed before tapping his shoulder.
“Get off of me if you want me to go get it.”
He pecked your cheek three times before standing back up, happily following you to the bedroom and waiting for you on the bed. You both knew this was going to be more of a funny experience, but you were definitely up for it.
“How do we even start this?” You threw the book on the bed and Hyunjin took it in his hand as you sat down in front of him, cross-legged as well.
“Should I just flip through the pages yet?
- Why not. Go,” you said, watching as Hyunjin picked a random page. “spit,” he started, then his eyes grew wide open. “Spit?” He repeated and you both burst out laughing.
“Go on,” you encouraged him and he was still laughing as he flipped the book upside down. “Your book wants me to spit on your cheek, babe.
- Kinky,” you waggled your eyebrows at him and he let out a breathy laugh.
“You sure you want this?
- Yeah,” you lay back on the bed, waiting for Hyunjin to get on top.
“This is nasty,” but he still climbed on top of you, a playful smirk plastered on his lips. He leaned in for a first kiss. It was slow and casual and his tongue swiftly entered your mouth after a small while. Your arms were around his neck by then and he suddenly pulled away.
“Sorry love,” he said before spitting right onto your left cheek, the gesture making you gasp in surprise even though you saw it coming. It felt hot on your skin and before it could drip down your face, you scooped it up with two of your fingers before bringing them to your mouth and sucking on them teasingly.
Hyunjin had been watching you the whole time, lips slightly parted in wonder and pupils blown. “Holy fuck,” he whispered and you giggled, taking your fingers out of your mouth before wiping them clean on his shirt.
“My turn,” you both sat back up, Hyunjin's ears were red, whereas you were completely fine.
Reading what the book gave you as answers, a devilish smile grew on your face. “Wait a little,” you said as you walked out of the bedroom, leaving Hyunjin confused and a little nervous.
His confusion raised even more when you came back with a glass of water and he tilted his head to the side with a visible frown. Kneeling in front of him on the bed, you wondered if you should take his shirt off or not.
“Are you gonna pour it on me or…?
- Yeah. Shirt on or off?”
Hyunjin thought about it for a small moment before he took his shirt off and placed it away on the bed. He laid back on his hands, waiting for you to do whatever. You raised the glass above him and the cold water made his abdomen twitch as he whined at the sensation. You watched the liquid drip down his lower body and onto his sweatshorts, liking the way he reacted to it too.
“What the fuck,” he whined again, brows furrowed as he watched the last few drops hitting his skin.
“That was interesting,” you stated, going to place the now empty glass on the bedside table before going back to him. You couldn't just leave him like that. Lowering your head to his abs, you licked and hummed at how cold his skin had gotten before kissing a trail to his waistband. He stroked your hair while you did so, his other hand grabbing the book again.
Your own hands stayed on his thighs as he flipped through the book. You were watching him again, wondering what he would do next.
He giggled before placing his hand on your cheek delicately, his thumb making small circles on it. He leaned in for another long kiss, this time being more heated and his other hand finally grabbed the other side of your face. You playfully bit on his lower lip and he did it back as his fingers trailed down your neck to wrap around it without any pressure.
“Had to choke me?
- No, I only had to caress your face,” he laughed and you did too after hearing that. You left a few other pecks on his plump lips before getting your “sexy answer.”
“Fucking finally,” you cheered as you threw the book on the side before sitting on Hyunjin’s lap. He put his hands on your hips, not knowing what you'd do, but he knew he’d like it with the way you seemed excited.
You started by leaving wet kisses to the corner of his mouth, down to his jaw and to his neck before Hyunjin felt your teeth on his skin. It wasn't too harsh, but his eyes still closed and he shivered. You could feel him shift under you and you kissed the place you bit before licking and sucking.
“Love,” he breathed out, hands sliding to your ass to squeeze.
One answer led to the other, and now you were both shirtless and in your underwear. Hyunjin had just finished sucking a hickey on your ass cheek when you read what you should do next.
“Alright, this is the last one,” you said and Hyunjin hummed in agreement, waiting for you to read it out.
“Come here,” you said as you went back on your knees in front of your boyfriend. He crawled closer to you before sitting on his knees, too. His cheeks were tinted a soft pink from all the foreplay and his lips had swollen a little from all the kissing. You grabbed his hand, slipping two fingers into your mouth and coating them with your saliva as you made intense eye contact.
“Fuck,” his cock twitched at how warm your mouth was around his fingers, eager to have you sucking on it instead. His fingers pressed down on your tongue, forcing your mouth open. He looked at your face as a whole, you always made the best expressions that made him horny as fuck.
His wet fingers then went to your clothed core, teasing your clit slowly as your thighs separated a little to give him space. You gripped his shoulders for support as you lifted yourself up, his fingers hooked to your panties to pull them to the side as his thumb rubbed you, pulling a sweet moan out of you.
“Finally,” you laughed and he smiled, looking up at you with those beautiful eyes. You pushed him to lay on the bed under you, sliding your panties off in a haste just before. You sat your naked pussy on his dick, feeling how hard he was under the boxers and letting him feel you up.
“Pretty girl,” he commented, one hand sliding down your back to tease your entrance. You lifted your ass up a little to give him access to your sopping cunt, his first finger sliding in with ease. You sighed in pleasure and let him stretch you out, your lips occupied with his the whole time.
“Want you inside,” you whispered against his lips and he nodded, his three fingers sliding out of you before giving a small slap to your ass. You smiled and got off of him so he could take his boxers off and you immediately straddled him again once he was completely naked.
“Slowly, love,” he told you as you sank down on his cock, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he watched you carefully. Once you were fully sat on his cock, you leaned in for more kisses, your tongues tasting each other as you got used to his length.
Hyunjin rubbed circles on your hips as your lips trailed down to his neck, eyes closed as you moved a little to let him know you were ready. He groaned and guided you slowly to begin, your warmth enveloping him perfectly and making him twitch inside you.
“Love you and your cunt so much,” he whined against your ear as he let you roll your hips against him and bounce on his cock, leaving him breathless and fingers digging into your flesh. You were panting against his neck, hands just above his shoulders as you clenched at each of his compliments. It didn't go unnoticed, as Hyunjin moaned each time you’d do so.
He undid your bra and you threw it on the side too, this time full on riding him and his hands going up to grab your boobs; squeezing gently as your own hands slid along your curves. Your head was thrown back as well as his, both of your highs coming quickly.
“Hyune,” you moaned out as he pinched and pulled on your nipple, your hips stuttering briefly before going back to their fast pace. He whined in response, holding your waist tightly as his toes curled. He could feel himself getting closer by the second.
“Love, gonna- please,” you nodded and pulled away from his cock, replacing your cunt with your hand and jerking him off fast. He was soon cumming on your fingers, some of it also dripping on his lower abdomen. His chest heaved as he came down from his orgasm, quickly realizing you didn't get to come.
“Clean that pretty hand of yours for me, gonna make you cum now,” he mumbled as you were the one laying down this time, his lips wasting no time wrapping around your clit to suck and lick. Your hips jerked up at the sensation and you moaned as you licked your boyfriend's cum off your fingers, eyes closed once again and enjoying the pleasure.
His tongue worked wonders, darting in and out of your entrance before harshly sucking on your clit and it was your turn to come, mouth open and head thrown back as your back arched too. Hyunjin was still between your thighs as you tried closing them, but he didn't mind because he liked it. When he knew you had calmed down, he left one last kiss to your pussy before lifting himself up to kiss you on the lips for you to taste yourself.
After having cleaned up and used the bathroom, the book was back in its box and you went to the living room to watch a movie, cuddled up to each other.
“The book is staying in its box for the next ten years,” you joked and Hyunjin laughed, nodding in agreement.
“You better give me that tarot reading soon,” he placed a kiss on the top of your head as you started the movie.
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strawberryblue-blog · 4 months
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She's mine too —Mason Mount.
summary: annoying days of pregnancy with mason
warning: none. pregnancy, vomiting, discomfort.
words count: +1.5k
#SEXYNOTE: Merry belated Christmas and early happy new year y'all 💌 thanks for the support, i hope you are well. love youuuu 🩵
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You hugged the toilet after spitting up all the dinner of the night between sobs, you sighed taking a big breath of air, feeling your stomach churning again. It was the fifth time you had gotten up to vomit in the night and you were really exhausted. For at least a week you had been feeling this way but in the last two days, it had gotten worse and you couldn't even feed yourself properly as you ended up vomiting.
Did your son or daughter hate you? It was practically thanks to you that he or she was coming into this world, and this is how he or she thanked you? By making you spit out everything you ate? By making you feel so fragile and silly at the same time? You wanted to stay cheerful, positive and full of energy but your baby was slowly consuming you. This was nothing like what you used to hear about pregnancies.
You had never been through anything before and it really scared you. The doctor had said it was normal as long as you had constant checkups and you just had to put up with it, even though it was very hard for you and especially for Mason. Sometimes he felt that what he was doing for you wasn't enough and he hated to see you suffer but it wasn't his fault and it would pass. You sighed whimpering a little, anyone would say you were exaggerating a little (and maybe you were) but you were really suffering. Since four months ago your body had changed, your fears had become constant, dizziness, mood swings, tiredness, breast pain, you had even become irritable. Sometimes you felt guilty but it was inevitable, the baby was running your life (Not really).
But you had no regrets.
Being a mother had been one of your dreams growing up, you used to say you wanted to be like your mother and you really hoped you would be for this child. You were discovering this whole new world and you have to admit you thought it would be something else, at least you had a great man by your side. Mason used to make your endless days, the best experience of your life. He would massage your feet, fulfill your every whim, pamper you and take care of you like you were a princess.
You couldn't complain, you were perfect together and starting a family with him was another one of your biggest dreams. Because you loved everything about him, about the relationship, the respect and love you had. Because you admired how strong and respectable he was and how he behaved with you, your family and friends. Because you were in love with him and that your son had him for a father, it was the biggest pride you could feel.
A hand on your back caressed you, pulling your hair back into a makeshift bun. Mason held your hair and calmed your nerves as he appeared behind you. You hated waking him up in the middle of the night with your retching, especially since you knew he'd have to get up early in the morning but Mason was always with you.
"Don't tease me like that" you laughed exhaustedly after a while. "That's the reason i'm here, puking up everything i ingest."
Mason hid a chuckle behind his smile, trying not to laugh at your funny comment because of the situation you were going through. But it was inevitable, even in misery you were saying funny things to him.
"You suggested doing it, honey. If you had stuck it out, we wouldn't be here," he replied, earning a pout from you.
And it was true. Maybe if they hadn't had too many drinks that night and you hadn't been so horny, nothing would have changed and you wouldn't have found yourself right now. But you wanted this as much as he did, because you were talking about this and about the future, and this was the future, you becoming parents.
After a while without nausea, Mason took you in his arms, slowly carrying you toward the bed. He handed you a glass of water and when you drank some, he helped you lie down on the soft sheets, arranging the pillows on your back to make you comfortable.
"I must look terrible" you whispered a little shaken. Your cheeks were red, your forehead sweaty and you sure looked gross right now. Mason quickly denied.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world" he murmured with his eyes sparkling. "You'll bring our child, you could never look terrible" his fingers caressed your face. A smile appeared on your lips as he kissed your forehead softly.
He took his place beside you, resting his head on your belly as he wrapped his arms around you. One of his hands caressed the protruding bump, which was growing bigger and bigger every day. You didn't know the sex of the baby yet but everything was within the norm for a pregnancy, something you were grateful for, and they were supposed to have news about the baby by the next visit.
"Baby, leave mommy alone for a while, okay? She's mine too" he whispered towards her son or daughter, drawing a smile from you. Your fingers tangled in her hair, stroking her chestnut locks. Your chest overflowed with feelings seeing him there and your heart filled with happiness at the image.
Mason on top of his baby, caressing your skin with his warm fingers, his eyes shining in his wonderful gaze. The reason for your happiness in front of you, your whole world. Your eyes filled with tears and you try not to cry but you were sensitive, everything hit you double, more when it was about your son and your boyfriend.
You were both terrified, you weren't going to lie, but since the test had come back positive and after a few months of waiting, you were ready for what was to come. You had learned to love each other, you had each other, you trusted each other and you were walking on the same side. Everything had been easier, since you knew Mason, you were always supporting and loving each other.
"The boys want it to be a boy to teach him to play football but honestly i want it to be a girl" Mason whispered turning back to your chest, still her hand held on the baby, caressing it.
"Is that what you want?" you asked with a giggle. Mason nodded. "Even Summer would take care of her and teach her" you mentioned and your heart fluttered with love as you imagined your boyfriend's niece with your daughter or son.
Mason smiled hugely.
"I want a boy too, of course. But we'll have time to bring him along after the baby girl" he joked with a grimace. You laughed out loud.
You were excited for the arrival of their son or daughter, they were counting the days since they had found out and memories were piling up in their memories of this special time. The wait was going to be hard but it would definitely be worth it when you had him or her with you.
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evanpeterswhoresblog · 10 months
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I love your fics omg you're so talented
Can you make an adult world fic? Alex obviously. Like reader is working with him and Alex keeps pushing vibrators on her skin and laughing n stuff. Then she's sick of his shit right so then she goes to the back and does her thing out there but Alex keeps teasing her and he goes out back with her and he starts to like rub himself on her and put her hand on his boner. Stuff like that. Kinda non con but the reader likes it she just doesn't want to admit it.
Can you make Alex make the reader give him head too? If it's too much just do the teasing. Luv u <3
i tried my best to make this fit your request i hope i did alright, i’ve never really written anything non con i don’t even know if this fits as the category lol but either way hope you enjoy :)
~~~
The Late Shift
Alex (Adult World) x f!reader
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warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, slight non con, oral male receiving, sex toys (not used for sex tho), pretty rough sex tbh, lmk what else if i missed any
summary: as you and alex are doing your last work for the night, things take a different turn than what you expected…
word count: 2.2k
~~~
You’ve never been big on sex. You like it of course. But you’ve never been one to experiment with sex toys or watch a ton of porn. So how you ended up working for a sex shop is a mystery. You were desperate for a job, and Adult World happened to be the closest, easiest place hiring. It’s been an easy job, for the most part. Except for one thing.
Your manager.
Alex is a good person, he’s funny, kind, and when you’re confused on anything he’s a great help. The only issue is how fucking attracted you are to him. You swear he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. His dark curly hair, dark mysterious eyes, he’s perfect. You’ve never wanted a guy more than you want Alex. It makes working with him hard, but so far, you’ve managed. Barely.
Right now, the two of you are unpacking new sex toys for the store. You talk casually, but you focus more of your attention on the crazy shapes and sizes these dildos are. Alex must notice your surprise.
“Would you ever use one of these?” He asks, holding up a glass dildo with patterns on it.
You chuckle. “I think that thing would tear me apart.”
“I’ve seen girls stick way crazier things up their pussy’s, like food and shit,” Alex replies with a laugh.
“So that’s what you jerk off to? Good to know,” you tease.
“Yeah, I bet you wanted to know. Just so you know, ff I go searching tomorrow night and find a video of you sticking a cucumber up your pussy, I’ll cum so hard.”
You feel your cheeks go red at his comment but keep your composer. Sometimes Alex says things that make you a little uncomfortable, but you know it’s all jokes so you don’t care too much. Plus, it gives you hope that maybe he has the same feelings for you.
“Hey y/n, get a look at this,” Alex says.
Before you can look you feel the vibrations on your skin. You flinch and push Alex’s hand away, but he keeps putting the vibrator on you. He’s laughing, you’re not. You don’t find his distractions entertaining right now. After a few seconds of this you slap the vibrator out of his hand and glare at him.
“Stop Alex, I’m trying to work,” you snap. He keeps laughing and with each second that passes you become more annoyed.
“It’s just a joke calm your tits. I’m the manager dude it’s not like we’re gonna get in trouble for talking,” he replies.
You huff. “Just, stop okay.”
“How about you stop being such a buzz kill,” he mumbles under his breath.
You ignore his comment and continue to unpack. Things are calm for a few minutes, before Alex gets his hands on another vibrator. He presses it against your cheek this time. You immediately slap his hand away again, but this time you stand up and try your hardest not to lose your cool. He looks up at you, about to speak, but you cut him off before he can.
“I’m gonna take this box out to the garbage,” you say, picking up an empty box that once contained a number of dildos and walking to the back door without listening to his reply.
You wonder why he’s being so difficult tonight. He typically talks a lot during your shifts together, but this is different. Usually, his jokes and comments aren’t too bad, why’s tonight different? You get to the back of the store quick and stuff the box into the dumpster. When that’s done you lean back on the brick wall, a sigh escapes your lips at the silence, it’s nice not hearing Alex’s voice. You grab your phone out of your pocket and start to text your friends back.
Sadly, your peace is interrupted after only five minutes. Alex calls your name from the door, telling you to come back in and help him finish before you guys have to close up. You silently curse but follow his instructions. You feel a bit bad; you know he’s not trying to make you upset, but he just is. You promise yourself you’ll try your hardest to tolerate him, after all you only have an hour left till the store closes. You can suck it up.
You’re walking down one of the aisles when Alex appears in front of you. You give him a small smile. You feel worse looking at his innocent face. Maybe you were overreacting.
“Sorry for walking out, I’m just tired and I want to go home,” you apologize.
“I get it, I’m sorry if I was being annoying, I really like making you laugh. Sometimes I try too hard,” he replies with a small laugh.
You smile. “That’s sweet.”
“You think so?”
You begin to walk toward him, toward the last unopened boxes. “Of course, I’m very flattered you enjoy my laughter. But anyway, how about we speed through the last of the boxes and go home early? You think they’ll notice?”
“Probably not,” he answers.
You’re close enough to him that you expect him to move aside so you can go to the unfinished work, but he doesn’t. Instead of moving he simply stares down at you, a strange look in his eyes. You know that look, you’ve looked at him like that. He wants you. If it were any other day, you’d be ecstatic. But right now, all you want to do is finish the tasks and go home. You look around him, trying to signal that you want him to move. He doesn’t.
“So, let's get this shit over with,” you say, clear as day about what you want.
He still doesn’t move. “You know y/n, you’re more fun when you aren’t taking this job seriously.” He steps closer to you, only a foot now separating the two of you. “I want that version of you right now.”
You laugh awkwardly. “Come on Alex, I just want to go home.”
“I’ll be quick, but I assumed you wanted something that would last longer.”
He puts his hands on your shoulders and backs you up against a shelf. Your heart rate quickens, is this real? You stare into his eyes, a confused expression on your face. You’ve had dreams of this happening, but in all of them you wanted it, right now you don’t exactly want it.
“Alex...” you say. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t play coy, I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know you want this too,” he answers, his lips curling up into a devilish smirk. He presses his body against you and you feel how hard he is, it makes you gasp. “I want it really bad.”
You don’t know what to say. Part of you wants to push him off you and run out of the store, but another part of you wants to see where this goes. You feel him start to rub himself against your leg, it makes you feel paralyzed. He’s too strong to push away, you think. It would be useless to try. So, you realize your fate lies with what Alex chooses to do.
He leans his head down, softly pressing his lips against yours. You can’t deny how long you’ve wanted this to happen. You just wish it wasn’t happening right this second. Nevertheless, you kiss him back, your mind adjusting to the knowledge that this is going to happen. You let him grope your breasts, squeezing and massaging them through your shirt. You even let him scoop you up in his arms and carry you to one of the desks in the back office. Though, you didn’t have much of a choice to start with.
He lays you down on a desk, his lips moving feverishly with yours. You can’t keep it together. His lips are moving so aggressively, they’re so soft. He bites down on your bottom lip and you groan into his mouth, the pain making that feeling between your thighs grow. He pulls his lips away and starts to kiss down your neck, leaving hickeys behind as he takes your delicate skin into his mouth. You throw your head back and moan, he pushes your knees apart and fills the space with his body.
“Alex... are there any cameras back here?” You ask, your breath ragged as he sucks a spot near your collar bone.
“Course not,” he answers in a hushed tone.
“Are you sure we should be doing this? What if someone comes in?” You’re second guessing this, maybe you should’ve protested more. The last thing you want is to have a customer come in and catch this.
“Just be quiet y/n it’s fine,” he responds.
You’re about to speak again, but that’s when he starts to rub one of his hands up your thigh and right between your thighs. You moan again as he starts to rub you through your pants. He knows exactly what he’s doing and it makes you feel like your body is floating.
He trails his kisses back up your neck until he catches your lips again. You kiss him hard, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. You buck your hips; you need more pressure. Alex understands this and presses his fingers harder on your jeans right over your clit. You’re so wet, you need him. You’ve never felt such desire for another human being.
“I want you to do something for me,” Alex says against your lips.
“Anything,” you reply without thinking, you’re too wrapped up on how good he’s rubbing you.
He pulls back and you open your eyes, he’s unbuckling his belt. You sit up on your elbows and watch as he pulls down his jeans, his hard cock very noticeable. He grabs your hands and pulls you forward till you’re off the desk. You’re confused until he pushes you down onto your knees, his crotch right in front of your face. You look up at him, he brushed a hand though your hair.
You don’t really want to suck his dick, but you’re too afraid of him forcing you that you don’t object. Instead, you pull him boxers down and stoke him gently. He sighs in pleasure and continues to brush his fingers through your hair. You don’t waste any more time. You start by slowly swirling your tongue around his tip, enjoying the way he whispers your name. After that, you lick down his shaft, you don’t like when dicks are dry down your throat.
Soon enough you’re deepthroating him, practically gagging on his dick. He’s a moaning mess, both his hands tangled in your hair. You don’t mind it as much as earlier. You even enjoy certain parts. Like how when you move your tongue as you suck, he’ll praise you, or how when you tighten your lips around him, he groans. With each sound that leaves him your panties become more and more wet.
When he’s close to cumming he pushes you off him, telling you to take your clothes off and lay back down on the desk. You do exactly as he says and before long, he’s back between your thighs, leaving wet kisses all over your body. You can’t handle how much you need him. The heart beat between your legs is all you can think of, and when he brushes his tip between your soaked folds you almost moan.
You grip his shoulders, your eyes locked on his. “Alex just fuck me already.”
“Someone’s needy,” he mumbled, his tone sending tingles throughout your body. He positions his tip at your entrance and leans down to connect your lips. “But your wish is my command.”
With that, he begins to fuck you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your nails digging into his shoulders. He thrusts at a pace that makes your toes curl. It’s so hard, so deep, so perfect. The desk rocks so hard you think the legs might break. You don’t even care. All you care about is that Alex doesn’t stop, not for anything.
He does though, but for a good reason. He pulls out of you and before you can even question it, he grabs you, flips you, and bends you over the edge of the desk. He resumes his thrusts, and you can’t help but moan loud enough that anyone in the store would be able to hear. You almost scream when he grabs your hips and pulls you back, his dick hitting right on your cervix over and over again. It’s almost too much for you to take.
He leans down after a few minutes and whispers in your ear, “You feel so fucking good y/n, it’s so hard not to cum.”
“Alex,” you moan.
“Are you close baby?” He breathes.
“Yes, please keep going,” you answer.
In minutes you cum so hard you swear you see stars. You moan Alex’s name so loud you’re sure everyone in the building next door can hear you. It’s the best feeling of your life. Your legs give out, Alex has to hold you up. Your nails dig into the desk, your whole face turns red, and you feel those orgasmic pulses throughout your entire body. He cums soon after you, pulling out and spilling his seed onto your back. You’re grateful, you forgot to tell him you weren’t on the pill.
“Well,” he says as you’re both still trying to catch your breath. “That was definitely better than unpacking those boxes.”
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xzhdjsj · 13 days
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Iron on my Tongue
Isaac x Reader
Isaac has a bad feeling about your meeting. (Isaac's POV)
Warnings: anxiety, description of blood, death of character
@chilliesillie and @kieran-rhoades created a vivid image in my mind of this scene so here it is written for you my loves<3 I hope I was able to capture this the way you imagined!
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
It’s a dim afternoon, grey clouds are settled in the sky with a promise of rain later and the wind is chilly. My partner isn't with me right now, maybe if they were I would be enjoying the weather more. I hope they make it back home before the shower.
They're out on their own business, a meeting with a client I introduced them to. As much as I'd like to pride myself in my improvements thus far, I still can't quite let them leave the house to meet someone completely unknown to me. Whatever client I hand over to them are well researched and kept on tab to ensure their meeting environment is a safe one and they’ll be able to get back home to me.
I still have my doubts regardless, but I can't control their every move. They deserve to live.  It’s funny because they tell me the same thing, "Isaac you deserve to live, without the worry and torment."
I don't think I'd ever be who I am today without them. The day I met them all those months ago, I'd never believed it if someone told me we'd not only be partners in my field of work, but also lovers. They're the one thing that means the most to me and I absolutely cannot let them get hurt. I trust them, and I know they'll do their best to stay safe but the underlying worry still bothers me.
There's this unusual feeling in my chest, the kind I haven’t experience in a while and worst of all, I'm not sure why it's there. It's bearable, but it's not. A distant but static feeling that hazes over my body and clouds my senses.
I take a sip of my coffee and its burns my tongue. It's hot, way too hot.
"Fuck" I pinch the space between my eyebrows and sigh.
My luck hasn't been the best today, but maybe a shower would wash away whatever this is and I can finally settle down. I push the cup aside and head for the bathroom, peeling the clothes from my body.
I let the water slide off my skin, the only thing on my mind is them. I could chalk this feeling up to just my anxiety, but this is more. This is an additional weight that presses against my chest and squeezes at my heart. An extra burden to carry on my shoulders, one I'm unfamiliar with yet I distantly relate to. Some sort of gut feeling that’s pointed in some unknown direction. I could easily pick up my phone and call them but their voice rings in my head.
"Here's the deal Isaac, no calls from you this time. We have to work something out little by little until you're comfortable with me leaving the house. Instead of you calling me, I'll call you before and after my meeting. Deal?"
I agreed to it of course. I want to be better. For them I want to be better, so each time I think of calling, I turn my phone screen down. I know their meeting started at 3pm and lasts about two hours, so I'm expecting a call at 5.
I step out the shower, tying my robe at the side. The first thing I do is glace at the clock.
4:55
I should be receiving that call soon, and since a shower did absolutely nothing to sooth my nerves, I'm hoping their voice will.
I'm back in the kitchen again, my phone sitting in front of me and I reach for the coffee I had left earlier. I take a sip and now it's too cold. What a day. I dump it down the sink without a second thought, it’s not important right now anyways.
5 o'clock rolls around and I'm impatiently bouncing my knee. There isn’t a single notification from them. 10 minutes. I'll wait 10 minutes and then I'll call. The feeling in my chests grows heavier and heavier and I'm counting down every second. I can't look away from my phone, waiting and hoping to see my screen light up.
5:07
That's basically 5:10 right? If I call now, it wouldn't make a difference. I frantically find their contact and click the small button near it.  I take a deep breath, then exhale. It's okay. They'll answer and say their meeting ran a little late and scold me for not waiting a full 10 minutes like I promised. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m able to fool neither my mind nor my heart.
It rings, and rings, and rings... then disconnects.
There’s no answer. My heart rate picks up and I call again.
Same as before, it rings but no answer.
I attempt to call again, but the phone slips from my grasp. I hadn't noticed it before but my palms are clammy and covered in sweat, cold sweat. I drag them against my robe and quickly snatch the phone off the floor, skipping a call entirely to find their location.
The little icon is not at their meeting location, it’s not at the coffee shop they enjoy visiting, its nowhere close to home. Instead it stays stagnant at a foreign location, a maze-like pathway between a block of buildings.
I’m unsure about almost everything at the moment, but one thing I know for certain is that I need to find them. I leave my house right away. I call until their voicemail is engraved into my skull. I send text after text, but there’s still no response. I check their location again but the only icon that moves is my own as I get closer to my destination.
The rest of the way I need to continue on foot. I have a gun tucked into the waist of my pants and I don’t know what awaits me, or if I’ll even be able to fight it but if I don’t find them I might go completely insane. My stomach turns at the scent, and sight before me. It’s a dirty alleyway, much dirtier than the one I found them in. It makes me sick. The unease in my body casts over me like a giant shadow and it’s starting to make sense. It feels like a rat in my stomach trying to claw its way through my mouth. I hate it. I hate it so much.
I find their phone, their bag and random sheets on paper scattered through path. They’re covered in muddy footprints and soaked in murky water. Something bad happened, that much I knew, but there’s 3, 4, 5 maybe 6 pairs of footprints here. They were outnumbered.
“Name!” I yell. “Where are you?”
I run further and further down but there’s no sign of them. My heart is pounding against my chest and I’m so so scared. I’m looking everywhere but there’s no one here. I grip onto my hair in frustration. Where are they? Did those people take them away? Who were they? There’re hundreds of people who’d want to hurt me but specifically WHO?
“I-Isaac…?” a weak voice calls behind me.
I’m overcome with relief when I hear them, but the state I see them in as I turn around fills me with worry and rage.
They’re holding onto the mouldy walls, sliding down to the ground when they couldn’t support themselves anymore. Their body and clothes are covered in mud and dirt, ripped and bruised. I rush over to them, supporting their weight against my own body.
I’m worried, so worried but I’m relieved they’re still here. I’m relieved they’re still alive.
“God, Pickle” I place a hand against their back, its warm and wet, and they wince in pain at the pressure. “Where are you hurt? Who did this to you?”
“Isaac,” they smile up at me, a hand reaching for my face. “You came. I knew you’d come.”
I hold their hand against my cheek. “Of course, my love. I’ll always find you I promised to protect you always.”
“My knight.” Their voice comes out faint and dull.
“Yours, always yours.” I lean down to kiss them, gently on their lips. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, more as reassurance to my self than them but I taste iron against my tongue, metallic and salty. I pull away abruptly and their body bends forwards choking on coughs as the red liquid spills from their lips. Blood.
It's on the concrete, my pants and my hands? The hand I had against their back… It's covered in blood?
Their jacket wasn’t soaked with water? The warmth I felt wasn’t from their body? It was their blood.
“Isaac.” Their hand is on my face again, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re *cough* spacing out my darling.”
I don’t bother responding, pulling their jacket off their shoulder. Red, it's all red. Their shirt is soaked through and through with blood and ripped in multiple areas. Stabs, fuck they were stabbed.
“No no no!” I panic. “I need to do something, I need to get you out of here!”
“Isaac please, I can barely move. Its’s *cough* gonna be okay, just please stay here with me.”
“How could I let this happen to you? Why not me instead?” I feel tears roll down my cheek and I’m terrified.
“It’s not your ugh fault Isaac. Please, for my sake, don’t blame yourself.” Their voice continues to weaken. I feel stupid for honouring their request of just staying here, but some part of me knows that there’s nothing I can do now.
 “Isaac, I love you”
“Yes, I know my love. I love you too, I love you more than anything.” I feel like a child again, crying my eyes out. I should be the one comforting them, but my voice is filled with fear and my breathing is unsteady.
“Thank you… for all you’ve done for me.” Their voice fades in and out. “Please don’t ever forget me”
Their hand falls from my face but I catch it pressing it back onto my skin. “No, you have to keep your eyes open! Please! Keep your eyes open name! Don’t let go of me!”
“I’m… sorry Isaac. I don’t think I can.” They barely whisper, their eyes struggling to stay open.
“No please, not now! I’ve only just gotten you, you- you can’t leave me yet.” I held them close, sobbing into their hair.
We never made it home before the downpour. I stayed there with them to the very end. I held them in the freezing cold until their breaths slowed. I held them until the warmth drained from their body and they also grew cold. I stayed there until left me for good.
I held my composure, for their sake, wrapping them in my jacket and took them home. I washed their body until they were completely clean before tucking them into bed. One last time, they were by my side. Tomorrow they’d be resting in my garden resting among the flowers, and my mother would finally meet the love of my life. I hope she’d be proud of me, I hope they’d reflect fondly of me.
I hope they’d forgive me for the things I must do in the future.
I hope they’ll shield their eyes and stay blind to the things I will do. Every last breath of mine will be used to avenge them. I will find those who are responsible for this, and I’ll make sure they regret it.
I couldn’t protect as a knight, so I will destroy everything as a shadow.
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selfcarecap · 2 years
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Never Have I Ever [p.p]
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Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: When Peter meets you at college and you two bond over your lack of sexual experience, you quickly become the best friend he’s ever had. But while he falls madly in love with you, he doesn’t know if you feel the same. You hold his hand when you’re out together, talk to him about the vibrator you want to buy and bless him with that beautiful look in your eyes that is reserved only for him… yet he’s not sure if you see more than a friend in him. Little does he know, you’re wondering the same about him, hoping for the same outcome.
Warnings: smut (all first time, oral f + m receiving, dry humping (semi-public? but it’s completely uninterrupted and unseen and in a remote location lol), masturbation (f with a sex toy and m with the reader’s underwear), vaginal sex – the second half of this is basically all smut), a sprinkle of jealous Peter, Professor Garfield lol, a little bit of angst ig bc Peter keeps doubting himself and thinks he’s a pervert but he’s just dumb as shit and oblivious, (all Peter’s pov <3), fic starts off with an awkward and embarrassing story lol, alcohol/drunk!Peter, (btw if first year of college sounds a little young to you you can always imagine they just took a break between hs and college), idk how college works in the usa, also I mention Peter's enhanced senses but it's not a Spiderman fic at all lol
Word Count: 23k omg, the longest thing I’ve ever written (if that’s too long for you i’ve put four ‘dividers’ in total so it’s split into 4 more or less equally long parts (the first is like 4k, second is 7k, then 4k again and the last is 8k) but of course you can ignore that and just read all of it in one go, all 23k are in this post, it’s a one shot)
It's finally here! Thank you for all the love I received for the teaser and just talking about this fic already 💘 This has been on my mind for so so long and I’ve been (sporadically and inconsistently) writing it since like September. I’m so glad it’s finally finished, this was one of my favourite wips I‘ve ever worked on, I really loved writing Peter and the reader and their dynamic and experiences and I hope you love reading it just as much 💖
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚・:*:・。
It’s Peter’s first week of college and so far he barely knows anyone. The guys in the rooms next to Peter’s are cool, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more people, so he decides to go to this party he’s been hearing about all week.
The party is exactly how he imagined it; loud music, drinking games, a pretty girl sitting next to him. So pretty that he doesn’t dare look at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him staring and think he’s being weird.
The game you’re all playing started as a simple never have I ever, but somehow people are now telling their funniest sex stories. Peter doesn’t realise it’s part of the game that everyone tells a sex story until it’s your turn and he notices how the last few people all told a story, one after the other, going around the circle you’re all sitting in.
His heart starts thumping harder in his chest. He doesn’t have a sex story to tell. But if he gets up now it will be obvious that he’s avoiding his turn, right? 
Fuck.
Besides, he wants to listen to your story. He just has to hope that his usually clever brain will help him come up with something when it’s his turn.
“Most memorable sex experience…” you hum in thought as you lightly drum the bottle in your hands against your lips. “Oh wait, this one’s funny. The guy I was with asked me if I peed myself when he took off my underwear because he didn‘t know that women get wet when they‘re turned on. I explained it to him but he wouldn’t believe me. 
“He was sweet about it and told me it happens to the best of us — and that he sometimes pees himself too. So at that point, I just saw it as a second chance from the universe to show me what this guy was like and I left.” 
The students around you laugh and comment on the story and as you look over at Peter a few seconds later he realises the other people are doing the same. 
They‘re expecting him to tell a sex story now. His mouth goes dry and his brain is empty. Think. Think. Think. Think of something. Anything. 
But he has nothing.
You speak up again, pointing at the guy next to Peter, “Oh my god, Brandon, you remember that story you told me earlier? You need to tell that one, that was the funniest thing I��ve ever heard.”
A weight is lifted off of Peter‘s shoulders when the attention simply shifts to the guy next to him.
What felt like overthinking for hours when he couldn‘t come up with anything to say was probably only a short moment, less than five seconds, and not a single person noticed that they skipped over Peter. He lets out a breath of relief as other people tell stories and no one demands anything from Peter. 
He keeps glancing at you, trying to figure out if what you did was deliberate or not. 
The only thing he‘s gotten from you so far is a second of eye contact, your face neutral but your eyes holding something positive. The next time you stand up to refill your drink, Peter follows you into the kitchen.
You smile at him when you see him enter, offering some of the diet coke you‘re pouring into your cup to him. “No thanks,” Peter says, watching you fill the rest of your drink with rum. 
“I don‘t know if you did that on purpose or not but uh.. thanks,” he says, clearing his throat after, annoyed at himself for sounding so nervous. You’re gorgeous, but he doesn’t even know you yet. You’re a stranger, yet he finds himself caring about what you think of him.
You muster him for a few seconds before you realise what he’s talking about.
“Oh. You mean during the.. the sex stories? That was no big deal. You just looked a little uncomfortable so I tried my best to get the attention to shift to someone else,” you smile.
“Thanks, that... that was really kind. Although I was kind of hoping it wasn‘t obvious how nervous I was. I just don‘t have any special or funny sex stories to tell... or any sex stories at all,” he avoids eye contact when he says it but you immediately get what he means. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” You say, taking a step forward to stand closer to him, his cheeks heating up. He nods.
“The story I told? That was completely made up. I‘ve never had sex with anyone either. And I‘m not ashamed of that fact, I mean I‘m so young and there‘s nothing wrong with waiting or honestly I‘ve just never... been in that type of situation with a boy…”
“I get it. You don‘t have to explain yourself. Same boat,” he smiles and nudges your shoulder but regrets it instantly.
Nudging your shoulder? He has never nudged anyone‘s shoulder. Especially not the shoulder of a pretty girl he just met. 
You don‘t take any notice of it though, much to Peter‘s relief, and you continue. 
“Even if I personally don‘t care how old anyone is when they have their first time, I just felt nervous saying it in a room full of frat boys. I know this year has barely started but so far all the frat boys I’ve met live up to their reputation and I didn‘t want them making any stupid comments. 
“If I was my ideal, confident self - or just a little tipsier - I probably would have just said that I don’t have any sex stories to tell but... I don‘t know. I was nervous.”
“I get that. That‘s exactly how I felt too. Only I wasn‘t creative enough to think of a story. My mind just blanked, I must have looked crazy when it was my turn to say something. You were calm though, the story seemed as real as all the others... maybe even more real, I mean what you said sounds very realistic to me considering how little most men know about women’s bodies.” 
“Yeah,” you giggle, “But you didn‘t look nervous either. It‘s just that I knew I might not be the only one too nervous to admit that I don‘t have any experience so I was hyper-aware of it, I guess.”
“Okay, I‘m glad. Thanks again.” The conversation is slowly dying but he doesn’t want it to end yet.
He holds his hand in front of him, “I’m Peter by the way. Biochemistry and computer science.”
His fingers tremble for a second. Who introduces himself like that? God, he’s messing this up before it even started.
But you grin, trying not to laugh and tell him your name and introduce yourself in the same way, “Oceanography and computer science.”
He takes a second to release the breath that he was holding in, “Oceanography? Wow, that sounds really interesting. You‘ll have to tell me more about that.” 
“It is. And I will once college starts. I‘m really excited.” 
“Me too. And computer science? That means we‘ll probably have a few classes together right?”
“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”
He takes out his phone and shows you the picture he took of it, and you lean in to look at it so closely that he can smell your lovely perfume.
“I don‘t have it on my phone but I recognise that professor’s name,” you point at a name on the screen, “I‘m in that class too, I heard professor Garfield is really good. I have two classes with him.”
And that‘s how you two end up talking all night. Peter walks you home and you realise your dorm rooms are merely minutes away from each other and you make a vow to meet each other again. He really hopes you don’t forget about him, or that you weren’t just being nice.
Peter falls asleep with a smile on his face and you on his mind. 
*
The next day, he realises with disappointment that you didn’t exchange numbers. He would like to text you and meet you in front of the lecture hall so it would be less nerve-wracking to go to his first-ever college lecture.
It would help to have someone he already knows with him and in case you were nervous he’d love to be there to calm you down too; make you feel less alone–you can do this together.
He knows one of his first classes on Tuesday is one that he shares with you. But he hopes he can see you on Monday to be each other’s support, or at least to see you for five minutes between classes.
He looks for you all day, but doesn’t see you again.
He’s giddy all night, knowing he’s definitely going to see you tomorrow. His plan is to get up extra early and casually and totally coincidentally lounge around in the hallway that your room is in, and then you can go to class together.
But one missed alarm later he‘s running through the building, trying to find the lecture hall that was shown to him during freshers week, but he didn’t quite manage to remember each one of the hundreds of rooms.
Time is running out and he has one minute until the lecture starts. He runs around the next corner and finally finds the hall he’s supposed to be in.
There are hundreds of students though, and he seems to be one of the last; he can’t even see if there are any seats left.
While his eyes scan the rows for an empty seat–but more importantly for you–he sees some movement directed at him. A wave.
His eyes travel down the arm that's waving at him and soon he’s making eye contact with you. He’s only met you once but he can’t stop a huge smile from taking over his entire face.
Peter blushes while he’s walking up the steps, on his way to you, but once he’s close he can see your bright smile and he’s immediately reminded of why he likes you so much.
“Hi,” Peter plops down next to you on the first seat of the row. You lean in and Peter’s breath gets caught in his throat when he realises you’re hugging him–just a friendly side hug, but it’s a hug nevertheless.
He takes his water out of his bag, trying to calm himself down by focussing on the cool drink running down his throat. It does clear his mind, the water, but he’s more and more comfortable with every second that he sits next to you. Your aura is so kind and calming, and he finds his shoulders losing the tension as you start talking to him.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it or something. We forgot to exchange numbers so I found your Instagram and was gonna message you there. But you‘re private so I couldn‘t.”
Ever since you said goodbye the night after the party, Peter has been worrying that that was all. That it was just an in-the-moment type of thing and you wouldn’t think it was anything special – or worse, you’d forget about him. But now you’re here, keeping a spot for him, telling him you’ve been thinking about him and wanted to message him. The warmth in his chest spreads when you smile at him.
And sure, just because you remember him doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it confirms that Peter isn’t the only one who thought you had a connection that was worth remembering.
Peter most definitely also stalked your Instagram. It’s public but he didn’t want you thinking he was weird for spam-liking all your pictures–which he definitely wanted to do but he stopped himself in time. 
He put a timer on Instagram for the app to remind him when it’s been twenty minutes of looking at your pictures. Not that there were enough to be scrolling for twenty minutes straight – he simply enjoyed looking at you.
He takes his phone out and accepts the follow request you sent him and follows you back.
“Put your number in,” you place your phone in front of him, opened on a new contact card that Peter fills out with his number and name. You look at it and add a <3 behind his name and Peter prays he’s not blushing as hard as it feels.
You text him You up? and if his cheeks weren’t red before then they definitely are now. He can tell you’re just teasing but the fact that you’re already comfortable enough to joke around with him makes him grin.
He feels like he can be himself with you and you’re doing the same. You’re not holding back with showing Peter that you like him and it makes him feel good about himself. 
But his smile fades when he hears your next words
“The professor is so hot, I have no idea how I‘ll concentrate. I talked to him before I sat down and he has a really nice voice too. And that accent… But wait till he turns around and you see his face – or you could just stare at his ass.” 
Peter doesn’t know why it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart. And when he sees you further staring at the man, it’s like that knife is being pulled out of his chest and Peter bleeds out. 
“I-it’s not even that big,” Peter tries.
You look at him and now he feels stupid for having said that. 
“Butts don‘t have to be big to be hot. Little booties matter. And they’re really cute sometimes.”
“W-well yes, of course, but.. he‘s really not that hot,” Peter says, and then Professor Garfield turns around, “...okay he is that hot.”
“Told you,” you sing, a smile on your face, and he can’t be mad at you when you’re looking at him like that. He couldn’t be mad at you no matter what you did. While Professor Garfield, or Andrew–as he tells you all to call him–starts the lecture, Peter tries to figure out what’s got him so mad.
Yes, of course you’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean that he has to have a crush on you immediately. Just because you’re a girl and he’s a guy doesn’t mean that this has to go beyond a friendship. Men and women can be just friends. He can’t just fall in love with the first pretty woman who’s nice to him.
Okay, maybe he already has a crush on you. So what? Who can blame him?
But Peter doesn’t want to rush anything with you. He’ll give you the time to figure out what you feel for him, and he’ll just follow your lead. He may think you already like him as much as he likes you, but it’s still only the second time you’re ever seeing each other. 
That and he just doesn’t want to overthink it all and end up losing the first person at college who genuinely feels like someone he could be friends with.
He tries to ignore how you giggle at every joke the professor makes and tries to focus on the warmth of you next to him instead. Not too much though, he’s already let your teasing get to his head and maybe even to a body part further down.
Even if it means he won’t have to witness you laughing at Professor Garfield’s jokes anymore, Peter is sad when the lecture is over. It’s the only lecture he has today and therefore also the only one he has with you today.
As you pack your things and people swarm out of the lecture hall, you and Peter stay back, taking it slow.
“What’s your next class?” You ask, looking him right in the eyes–like any normal person–but he’ll really have to get used to that. He can’t lose his mind every time you just look at him. But he's so attracted to you.
“I, um, I no. I mean, I don’t have any other classes today.”
You smile unexpectedly, “Cool, me neither. You wanna do something? We could get lunch together.”
You say it with such ease, showing your interest in him like you don’t know how it’s making Peter feel warm and bubbly inside.
Even if Peter still gets nervous around you, simply because he wants to impress you and doesn’t want to fuck this up, he realises quickly that he has no reason to be. 
Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly. 
A week later you’re texting like you’ve been best friends for years and he finds himself too happy around you to worry about what he’s saying or how he’s acting. You like him the way he is and he can feel it deeply and confidently. 
Yes, he still stutters a lot around you - but he does that around most people, to be fair - and once you part ways for the day he overanalyses every little thing you’ve said to him, overthinks every little touch of yours for some form of affection that is more than platonic.
And it’s hard, figuring out whether you like him as more than a friend.
But this friendship is so new and so exciting that Peter thinks it makes him just as happy as an average relationship in the honeymoon phase would. So even if he does crave more intimacy with you, it’s hard to complain when he has a friend like you.
*
You show up at Peter’s door at midnight on a Friday. His sleep schedule has been surprisingly healthy for a college freshman so if anyone else disturbed him when he was already in pyjamas, he’d be annoyed.
But with you, he’s ecstatic. He’s awake immediately, grinning from ear to ear at your surprise visit. You never left his mind but he thought he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.
Peter is more than aware of the contrast between your done up state and him in his ratty old pyjamas. You’ve seen him in pyjamas before and he knows better than to think you’d judge him, but he can’t help but to want to at least try and match you when you’re looking as gorgeous as you are.
“Oh sorry, I thought you’d still be up,” is the first thing you say, ready to leave if you’re bothering him in any way.
“No, no, I am, don’t worry. What’s up?” Peter asks, trying to look cool as he leans against his door frame. He ignores how it hurts like hell where his elbow meets a sharp corner.
“Well… I was gonna ask if you wanna go watch a movie with me,” you give him a charming smile not knowing he’d say yes no matter what you asked of him.
“Now?”
“Uh, yes. Now. But it’s fine if not, genuinely I won’t be mad. I can see that you had other plans,” you smile at his pyjamas.
“No. Don’t worry, I’d love to go. Do you have tickets or…?” Jealousy bubbles up inside Peter when he realises you might have been planning to go with someone else. With some other guy. Maybe he bailed on you and Peter is the second option (which he would still be grateful for, but he hates the thought of you with another guy).
“No, but I checked online and they have plenty of tickets left. It’s the last day they’re playing this film. The one I told you about, the horror one.”
“Oh God.” He’s trying to pretend that you still need to convince him when really Peter just needs a second to realise he was just overthinking again. He is your first choice. Not another guy.
“Pleeeease, Peter,” you grab his arm and pout. 
Peter has been convinced since the moment you showed up at his door.
“Give me a second,” he smiles and you grin back, “Really? You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek enthusiastically and he goes back into his room fast enough to hide his blush.
He picks out an outfit, brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant just in case.
You take him to the cinema with your hand in his. Peter knows it’s not a romantic gesture, you’re just treating him like you’d treat a female friend, but his brain doesn’t know the difference. He’s just happy to be touching you.
When you buy the tickets the guy at the movie theatre shows you the available seats on his screen. He points to one of those love seats where two seats are joined together so you can cuddle.
You nod and when the guy gives Peter a congratulatory smile, Peter’s cheeks heat up. The guy probably thinks you and Peter are a couple. It’s not just good for Peter’s ego and the fake scenarios with you that he’ll imagine before bed, but it’s also better for the guy. Peter saw the way he was eyeing you, and Peter doesn’t know what he would have done if the guy had asked for your number.
“We can cuddle,” you grin as you sit down and pat the seat next to you. You’re almost alone in the theatre, you could sit anywhere you want but you want to be close to him.
While you wait for the trailers to start you take Snapchat videos with Peter, asking him if you can send them to your friends at home. His heart swells when you say that you’ve told them about him.
He takes pictures of you looking all pretty and perfect and he wonders if it would be too much to set it as his phone wallpaper. Your head is on his shoulder as you scroll through the pictures that he just took of you and your perfume is hypnotising.
How is every little thing about you so captivating? Peter has never met anyone like you.
He’s fucking scared during the movie, but with his eyes mostly closed he manages to be the guy you can hold on to during the creepy scenes. Your fingers around his bicep squeeze every time there is a jumpscare and at some point he has to force himself to watch the film after all if he doesn’t want to get hard from your touch. He knows it’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.
You look beautiful in the light of the stars as you two walk home, your hand still around his arm, gushing about the film and thanking him for watching it with you despite the spontaneous change of his plans.
You spend some time in the common area by your dorms. It’s late and everyone else seems to be at some party elsewhere or sleeping. You cling on to Peter, still jumpy from the horror film and he nearly asks you if you want to sleep in his bed.
He nearly says it about five times, but he can’t quite get the words out. He doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression, even if you may be about to ask the same thing.
Peter sits there nervously, gulping as he’s about to ask. He really will say it this time. But before he opens his mouth he hears your deep breaths and notices how your body has gone slack against his side.
He kisses the top of your head in content and soon, sleep finds Peter too. He doesn’t have to dream about being close to you because it’s already his reality.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚・:*:・。
It’s a few weeks into the semester and it’s become a routine for you two to study together. Whether you’re helping each other with the classes you share, or silently working on other things and enjoying each other’s company, your study sessions have even managed to make studying a rather fun part of college. 
Especially when you’re both sitting on Peter’s bed, and your knees or legs or arms are always touching.
You’re not focussed today, scrolling around on your phone instead of studying. You throw your phone to the bed at some point and you hug your legs to your chest in thought.
“You think Andrew will let me suck his dick? For a better score?”
Peter’s heart stops beating for a second. 
You haven’t kissed, you haven’t said anything that should have led Peter to think that this is more than friendship, but it seemed like there could be something in the future. Apparently, you’re not even considering it.
“Who’s Andrew?” He asks, mouth dry and voice weak.
“Professor Garfield.”
“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”
“Is it though?” You tilt your head and give him a deliberately incredulous look.
“Yes.”
“Not if no one finds out. It’s don’t break the rules or don‘t get caught, Peter.”
He’s distracted by you saying his name for a moment. There’s nothing he loves hearing more.
But he has to stop you from doing… that. He can’t entirely tell how serious you are, but he has to make sure to convince you that it’s a bad idea.
“No offence, but what makes you believe you’ll be good enough for him to give you a better score? If you’ve never… you know, done anything like it.” He remembers your conversation from the first time you met, and if you haven’t given anyone a blowjob since then, he knows it would be your first time. Your first time can’t be with a professor, even if Peter disregards the fact that he wants to be the only guy you have sex with, it really is a bad idea.
“I’m a young and pretty student and he’s a kinda old guy. He’s like 40. So I’m sure that I’ll be enough for him.”
Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment, thrown off by your casual tone.
“Don’t you think so?” you press, teasing in your voice.
“No- of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 
“Aww,” you sit up and press a kiss to his cheek, “So are you, Pete.” You hold on to his shoulder as you lower yourself into his lap, your butt right next to his thighs and your upper body resting on his legs, and his breath hitches. 
“Well if you think I need practice, then.. I could practise on you first.”
“Practise w-what on me?” He asks, feeling your hands on his abs.
“Going down on a guy,” you say, looking up at him. Now the feeling in Peter’s belly changes from raging jealousy into something else of equal passion. He’s thought about you doing that before, (and pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it appeared) but hearing you suggest it makes a new flame of desire light up in him. 
The first conversation you ever had was about sex. But anytime you mention anything sexual, Peter doesn’t know how to act.
“I- I mean. I’m not- I feel like, maybe that’s not—”
“Don’t worry, I’m joking. I won’t actually suck that guy’s dick. I just don’t wanna do this stuff right now,” you sigh, sitting up and closing your textbook.
“How about we do something to distract you for the night, and then tomorrow I’ll help you with the next assignment,” he suggests, relief still flooding through his body, happy that you don’t actually want to suck your professor’s dick.
“You’d do that?” 
“Of course. I’ll always help you when I can but I especially owe you after you did my homework last week when I fell asleep.”
You sit up, “I told you it was no big deal. It was just multiple choice and all I did was copy my answers.”
“Yeah but if I hadn’t woken up then I would have missed the deadline and failed.”
“I know you’d do the same for me. And besides, you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t wake you up to do some boring computational linguistics quiz at eleven pm.”
Peter smiles at the memory of last week. When he’s with you, he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to spend time with you. But he was tired and you were studying something Peter couldn’t help you with anyway, and he’s so comfortable around you that he just drifted off to sleep because he trusts you – he wouldn’t be okay with being unconscious next to just anyone.
“Well, it was still a very kind thing to do.”
Not sure what you’re doing yet, you go to your dorm room so you can change out of your sweats and into something prettier–even though Peter thinks you could wear sweatpants 24/7, and you’d still outshine everyone. He nearly stays outside but with a confused look you ask him what he’s doing outside and he reluctantly comes in.
Picking out an outfit, you pull off your shirt with no warning and even if he can only see your back an “Oh my God” leaves Peter’s mouth immediately, followed by a quiet, “Sorry,” as he turns around.
“Don’t worry. I’m just changing. It’s just my body, you can look.”
Despite your nonchalant words, Peter can hear your heart beating loudly and frantically in your chest. He tries not to let it get to him, it doesn’t have to mean that you like him. Maybe you’re just realising that you don’t want a boy to see you half-naked after all but you don’t want to say it now after confidently assuring him it was okay. 
Peter sits down on your bed, turned away from you even though it takes all the willpower he can muster.
A few moments later you jump onto the bed next to him, “So, what are we doing tonight?”
“Do?” He asks, still dazed from seeing your naked back, “Oh do, yeah. Uh yes, we can do something.” 
You giggle, looking at him expectantly. That’s when Peter remembers he was the one who suggested that you go out tonight.
“Oh-well yeah, I was thinking we could take a walk along the river, I heard they have these carnival booths up every Friday night.”
Going out in the evenings has become your and Peter’s thing. Sure, many people–especially college students–go out in the evening. But with you, it feels different. It feels special.
Illuminated by the streetlights and the LED glow from the booths, you and Peter play a few rounds of ring toss and throwing darts at balloons. You both swear it’s rigged because neither of you win anything.
You eat popcorn while Peter gets cotton candy and once again you hold Peter’s hand throughout most of your trip. It’s become a habit of yours, apparently meaningless as a romantic gesture, but platonically it means everything to Peter. You like him enough to constantly initiate physical touch; plus, he’s never seen you hold hands with any of your other friends.
Still, Peter is forever wishing for more. Sometimes he looks at you and wonders how he’s managed not to kiss you yet. But his fear grows with every day; the closer you get the harder it will be to confess his feelings because the risk of ruining something beautiful keeps getting bigger. 
He’s never been this attracted to anyone but he also thinks he’s never had a friendship as good as yours. He simply can’t risk something good, something beautiful, something that makes him as happy as he’s ever been. Your friendship is strong but he’s scared you wouldn’t be able to come back from Peter confessing his feelings for you and you not feeling the same.
It could weird you out, you could take pity on Peter and see him in a different light, or worst of all, you could think he��s been taking advantage of you. He’s never touched you anywhere that would be reserved only for a lover but you two are quite close. You’ve cuddled a few times, or just a few hours ago you were changing in front of him – he doesn’t want you thinking he intentionally got any sexual gratification out of it and for you to view him differently.
He already feels bad enough when nothing but the image of you clouds his thoughts whenever he jerks off. He can’t help it anymore. He used to be able to think of something else or simply watch porn but now that he’s with you so often and you’re so perfect, you’re like an intrusive thought; whenever he’s naked, there’s nothing on his mind but you, just like when a song is stuck in your head – there’s no easy way of getting rid of it.
Peter has never been one to feel shame after masturbating. But if you only liked him as a friend and ever found out what he thinks about when he’s fucking his fist late at night, he doesn’t even want to know what your opinion of him would change into. But the mental image of you alone makes Peter cum so hard, over and over, that he can’t stop, even if guilt plagues him right after as he cleans up the mess he’s made.
He looks down at your intertwined hands while you’re walking home across campus. He wonders what you’d do if you knew that the hand you’re holding right now jerks Peter off every night without fail, thinking precisely of how your hand could replace Peter’s.
On your way home, you walk past a frat house, the vibration of the music reaching Peter’s chest even from the outside.
“Shit, Chloe told me about this party. I forgot I said I’d be there.”
“Who’s that?”
“She’s one of my friends from an Oceanography class. Do you mind if we go in? Just for half an hour.”
It’ll definitely distract Peter from thinking about you in a way that he’s not sure you’d be comfortable with.
You’re dragged away by some of your girlfriends as soon as you enter. They all say something about Peter but you quickly shrug off what they’re saying about you two always being together. He can’t tell if it’s a genuine no or just that feeling of embarrassment that you get when your friends tease you about your crush.
So your friends see it too? The indescribable chemistry between you two? Even with his enhanced hearing, he can’t hear the rest of your conversation because some of his own friends are urging him to go play beer pong with them.
Peter sees you every twenty minutes or so and you wave or smile at him and check up on him every time you walk past. Spending time with your other friends is good for both of you, but it’s also good to know that he’s still on your mind, just like you’re on his.
“Help me find the bathroom,” you tell Peter the next time you see him. He’s getting a little bored at this party so he assumes you also want to escape.
You walk into the bathroom together and Peter doesn’t realise that you actually just need to pee until he sees you contemplating on pulling your underwear down or not, “Can you wait outside?”
“Of course.”
Peter has no interest in being in the bathroom with you while you pee, but the fact that you nearly let him stay in there with you shows him once again how comfortable you are around him. He’s smiling like an idiot, standing by the wall opposite the bathroom until he hears your “You can come in.”
After you’ve washed your hands you sit on the edge of the bathtub and pat the space next to you for Peter to join you and you chat about whatever comes to your mind. So you did want a break from the party too, and Peter is glad to provide that.
“What song is that?” Peter asks. The music is loud enough for you to clearly hear it even upstairs in the bathroom.
“I don’t know, I’ll shazam it. You’re right, it sounds good.”
When you unlock your phone the screen is filled with the picture of a vibrator. You ignore it and go to Shazam the song, but Peter can’t let you off like that.
You always get to tease him so he smirks when he can finally get you back, “Wait wait wait,” he takes your phone from you, lifting it high in case you want to take it from him.
“What is this?” He asks, smiling, teasing you lovingly and in good fun but you look at him as if he’s talking about the most boring thing ever, not embarrassed in the slightest, but once more, that could be a good sign; another sign of your close relationship.
“Oh, it’s this vibrator. But it’s way too expensive for me.”
Peter licks his lips, trying not to freak out. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to you about a vibrator would be a good idea. But he tries to appear as calm as you, “Why is it expensive? What’s so special about it?”
“Well, it basically sucks your clit. But I don’t want to spend over 100 dollars on something like that when I can just go out and find a guy to suck my clit within like five minutes. It’s all those guys on campus think about, I swear. I’m glad you’re not like that, Pete” you smile at him and put your head on his shoulder, completely catching him off guard with your words.
He won’t be able to jerk off without thinking about you for days now; meaning he won’t be able to jerk off for days. Do you mean you’d hate knowing that Peter thinks about you sexually or do you just mean that there’s no pressure with Peter? And that any other male friend would have asked for sex by now?
Peter knows he’s not a perv, but he doesn’t know if you’d say the same if you knew you were the protagonist of his spank bank. 
“Wait, actually, a friend told me they’re way cheaper if you buy them in-store and they’ll have more to choose from... will you go with me?” You ask him with a big fake pout.
“To a.. a sex shop?”
“I don’t want to go alone. And you’re my best friend.”
He can’t say no to you after you call him that, even if having a constant reminder of what you use to masturbate is going to kill him.
“O-okay. But why can’t you just go with your friend?”
“I’m not as comfortable around her as I am around you. Unless you really don’t want to.”
“No no I’ll go,” he nods and you grin.
“I’m sure they’ll have something for you too,” you say with raised eyebrows. And even though his hand and the thoughts about you make him cum hard and fast enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs a sex toy, your words help him feel a little less guilty. You telling him to go buy a sex toy suggests that you’re not grossed out when thinking of him masturbating, so maybe you’d understand that he’s got to do what he’s got to do sometimes, and you actually wouldn’t completely hate him if you found out what goes on in Peter’s mind when he jerks off.
“But we’re not going before we finish our assignment.”
“Deal,” you shake his hand with a laugh and join your friends downstairs to play the last few rounds of drinking games before you go home.
You’re good, but the other team is better. 
You didn’t really want to drink tonight and are only playing for fun but Peter likes following the rules so someone has to have the drinks. You assure him he doesn’t have to but Peter downs all the drinks for you and the ones for himself, relying on his enhanced abilities to drink them like water. He has one drink and then five more and when you two leave the party he realises he’s drunk.
You insist on taking him to your room to make sure he’s okay but Peter is a funny drunk so he doesn’t feel too bad. If he gets to sleep in your bed he could never feel bad, and knowing you you would never offer if you weren’t okay with it.
“I like when you take care of me,” Peter smiles at you when you tuck him into bed and he takes your hand in his, “And I like when we hold hands.”
“I like it too,” you kiss his forehead and Peter practically swoons. You were holding his hand the whole way back home from the party, like one of those people keeping a toddler on a leash and he’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow morning but right now he’s just grateful for the constant affection.
You seem no bit annoyed that you have to deal with a drunk Peter, you’re just spending time with your best friend (he hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him that) who happens to be drunk.
“Will you need a bucket?” You ask as you pull down your skirt and leave on your cropped shirt.
“A what?” He asks, heart beating harder as he stares at your half-naked form.
“Do you think you’ll throw up?” You ask.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
When you walk over to the bed Peter sees everything in slow motion. You stand next to the bed for a few seconds, tapping on your phone, and Peter admires your beautiful body while he can.
“You know how much I love your legs? They look so good,” he says, and he can’t tell if he’s embarrassingly drunk right now or not. He just knows that your legs are perfect. You’re perfect. And that’s something his sober self would wholeheartedly agree with.
You smile and turn off the lights, leaving the window open so Peter can get some fresh air but it also leaves enough light for Peter to admire your legs some more.
“Scoot over,” you tell him and get in bed with him.
“No, you don’t understand how incredible your legs are.” He gets one last glance at them before you pull the blanket over your body.
“Thank you, Peter,” you smile, and he sees by the crinkles next to your eyes that it’s genuine and maybe you don’t hate him looking at your body as much as he’s been worrying you would.
You talk a little more but minutes later the conversation consists more of yawning than talking and Peter sobers up when he realises he will be sleeping next to you. It’s his first time sleeping in a woman’s bed, and he’s glad it’s yours.
He’s taken naps next to you and there was that one time you slept next to each other on the sofa, but this is different. You’re alone in your room, right next to each other, in one bed, sharing one blanket. He can feel the warmth of your half-naked body and before he knows it your familiar presence calms him down enough to fall asleep quickly.
*
When Peter wakes up next to you the following morning, it takes a few moments for it to all come back to him.
He knows there’s no way you slept with each other, Peter was kinda drunk, neither of you have even confessed any feelings and you wouldn’t have a one night stand the first time you have sex. 
But when he gently lifts the blanket, making sure he doesn’t wake you up, he’s met with the sight of your lovely belly and heavenly thighs, and Peter thinks from the outside it could look like you had sex. 
Not that anyone is going to see, but two hormonal college students, both half-naked, waking up next to each other.. It screams something obvious and that thing is not that you two are merely friends.
The thought of it alone makes Peter flustered and he shifts uncomfortably. His eyes widen when he realises that his morning wood is pushed right against your ass. He pulls his hips back as quickly as he can, waking you up in the process.
You’re facing away from him, and the first thing you notice is your and Peter’s interlaced hands. His cheeks warm up as he notices them too. His arm is resting above your head on the pillow, fingers next to your face where they’re loosely intertwined with yours.
He doesn’t remember waking up in the night, so you must have somehow ended up holding hands in your sleep, both finding your way to the other even while unconscious.
You squeeze his hand and twist your body to look at Peter’s face. “Hi,” you mumble, smiling sleepily.
“Hi,” Peter says, opening his mouth minimally just in case he has bad morning breath.
Your eyes flit across his face with a look he can’t decipher. “Goodnight,” you say a few seconds later and you lie back down in your tired daze, pushing against Peter and pulling his arm over your waist.
“Wait,” you turn around again, “Are you okay? Got a hangover or anything?”
“I’m good, thanks. Go back to sleep,” he smiles, partially because he knows you still need rest but also because he wants you to go back to sleep so he can take care of himself. It’s becoming painful how hard he is.
“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”
He most definitely is warm, he knows he’s blushing like crazy.
You pull the blanket further up your body and scoot back against Peter, and the way your ass pushes against his crotch nearly makes him moan. He doesn't know how you're not noticing what's going on.
He scoots his hips back as far as he can and waits a few minutes until you’ve drifted off to sleep again. He carefully removes himself from you and goes to your bathroom. You have a bathtub, big enough for both of you, he thinks, with a showerhead on the wall.
Before he can even bring himself to care about the temperature, Peter turns on the water and pulls his clothes off in a hurry, wrapping a hand around himself before he’s even really in the shower.
He leans a hand against the wall, resting his head against it as his other hand speeds up, jerking himself off while he thinks about you in the other room. You, so pretty, so caring, so sexy in just your underwear and a short shirt. You, not knowing that Peter is about to cum in your shower, so close to you, thinking about you.
The water is only barely louder than the sound his hand makes against his cock, and he bites his lip to stop any moans from coming out.
Peter cums when he hears the squeaking of your bed; you’re getting up, you could walk in any second. While he cums, Peter’s mind wanders to you on your knees, his dick sliding in and out of your mouth as you look up at him with your gorgeous eyes.
He washes his cum off the bathroom tiles on the wall and tries to wash the guilty feeling off himself.
Suddenly the door opens slightly, “Hey can I come in? I won’t look, I just wanna brush my teeth.”
Peter makes sure to slide the shower door to the side so it’s covering him and he tells you to come in.
He peeks out of the shower and you smile at him through the mirror. He catches your eyes drifting lower but you can barely even make out the outline of Peter’s body through the frosted glass. 
Peter casts his own glance at you and how you’re still not wearing anything but panties and that short shirt. You stretch your arms, still trying to shake the tired feeling, and your shirt lifts so that Peter can already see the flesh of your tits. But you stop stretching just before your top lifts over your nipples and he quickly turns to look at the wall in the shower instead.
He quickly washes himself using your shower gel, maybe he’ll smell just like you now.
You hand Peter a towel just at the right moment and he wraps it around himself before stepping out of the shower.
“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.
In his still horny brain a scenario plays out where you said that a few moments earlier and joined Peter in the shower.
This time you don’t tell him if it’s okay for him to look while you’re changing so he diverts his gaze before you slip out of your clothes.
You squeal when you get in the shower, “Peter, why is it so cold? What’s wrong with you?” 
He must not have realised how cold it was, but once he got into the shower he only cared about coming, and he blocked everything else out. By the time he was washing his body, he must have become used to the temperature already and didn’t notice.
Peter brushes his teeth with his second toothbrush that he’s got in your bathroom and quickly goes into your bedroom so he won’t be in the same room as you while you’re naked and he’s only got a towel wrapped around him.
You come out dressed in the clothes you took into the bathroom with you.
“Sorry that I used your shower,” Peter says, sitting on your bed with nothing but your towel.
“You’re welcome here whenever and welcome to use whatever, you know that. But showering that cold should be a crime,” you smile at him, “Should I get you some clothes?”
You go to Peter’s room to get clothes for him and he changes into them in your bathroom.
“I know it’s the weekend but can we get that assignment done today? I wanna go buy my vibrator soon,” you pout.
Peter forgot all about that. How is he supposed to study with you if he knows you’ll go out together to buy a sex toy after?
But somehow he manages. Well, you realise you can do it mostly by yourself once you properly start and Peter is only there for moral support (even though he’s the one who needs moral support; he doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, pretend that he didn’t just jerk off while thinking of you and pretend that it–by far–wasn’t the first time.)
“Hey, are you okay?” You ask Peter as you’re both on your way to buy your stupid vibrator that Peter would love to replace.
He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but your worried look tells him he looks exactly as nervous from the outside as he feels. He’s never been to a sex shop. Are they going to ID you? Are you going to meet someone you know? Is it going to be all dingy?
Normally, you’re like an anchor to Peter, your presence can make him feel comfortable in situations that would usually make him panic. But in this situation, you’re making him even antsier. Not in a way that he would describe as anxious but more like a, he’s scared he’ll get a boner any second. That’s always a risk when he’s with you but that risk quadruples when you’re going to a sex shop to buy a vibrator for yourself.
You stop Peter in his tracks and stand in front of him to wipe his sweaty forehead with your sleeve, his heart beating even faster now. “You know you don’t have to come in if it makes you that nervous. But it’s just a shop.”
“What? Yeah I’m fine, pff, like so fine. I’m just hot,” Peter says, watching your eyes go to the thick winter coat Peter is wearing. You’re wearing one too. Even in his jacket, Peter could do with a bit more warmth.
“Here,” you unzip his jacket, and even if it’s only to assist Peter with his stupid lie, you’re still undressing him. You’re not helping the boner risk decrease at all.
The shop is classy and clean and the employees leave you alone (unlike when you dragged Peter to Lush that one time and he was forced to try out bath bombs and oil that he didn’t know the purpose of).
Now he can tell you’re flustered too, just a little bit. Holding on to Peter’s arm the whole time, you find what you need, pay, and put your gloves on top of the packaged vibrator just in case anyone decides to look in your bag.
Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, the shops aren’t busy so you go to look for some new clothes. Peter thinks you could wear a potato sack and you’d still look pretty, so he’s not the best judge when you come out of the dressing rooms to ask for his opinion on whatever clothes you’re trying on.
“This is so ugly, oh my god,” he hears you from inside the dressing room, laughing.
You pop your head out behind the curtain to make sure no one sees you as you show Peter a top that, yes–even on you, looks ugly. You still look gorgeous, that’s for sure, but even your perfect face and body can’t save the Shrek-coloured thing that is supposed to be a t-shirt.
“You know, you’re the only one who’s allowed to see me in something as ugly as this,” you say absentmindedly as you go back to try on something else and Peter’s heart beats faster at your words.
It might sound ridiculous to an outsider, but to Peter these little things mean the world.
He might not be able to tell if what you feel for him is platonic or more, but he knows you feel something for him. You feel a lot for him. He feels it every time you so much as look at him. 
With you, Peter feels loved.
The love you give him feels like it’s supposed to be for a lover, supposed to be for that one special person. And the lines between friendship and more are so blurry in your relationship that he can’t tell how much is spilling onto the romantic side already.
Peter contemplates paying for your new jeans but in the end, he’s too awkward (and too broke) in front of the cashier to interrupt when you get out your money. Besides things like cinema tickets, drinks and food, Peter has never paid for anything that you bought and it would feel very boyfriend-y.
You get food on your way home and by the time you’re in Peter’s room, it’s dark outside already. Peter was surprised that you even came to his room and when he keeps noticing you looking at the bag with your new toy in it, his assumption that you’d rather be doing something else now is confirmed.
You’ve been so casual when you talk about things like vibrators and getting off, but Peter has never had the courage to properly contribute anything to the conversation. But he decides to put on his big boy pants and before he can chicken out he nods towards his door and says, “Go on, try out your vibrator. I know you’re dying to.”
You give him a charming and apologetic smile, snatching your bag, ready to go. “I’d love to spend time with you, you know that but–”
“I know. But we have enough time for that tomorrow. Just don’t break your–” Don’t break what? Don’t break your pussy? Your clit? He’s never said any of those words out loud.
“I won’t,” you help him out and climb on the bed again to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pancakes as always?”
“Pancakes as always,” Peter smiles, feeling himself blush, “Text me your review of the toy,” he says before you leave.
“I will,” you smile back at him, wave, and close the door.
Peter waits a few moments until he thinks you’ve arrived at your door. Are you going to throw yourself on your bed as soon as you get in? Shower first? Are you going to slowly take off all your clothes, caress your body to turn yourself on? Seduce yourself? Or are you going to push your pants down just a few inches and shove the vibrator between your legs?
Whatever you’re doing, thinking of any of those scenarios makes Peter hard immediately; that, and the tension from today that he can finally release.
He moves to the side of the bed that you were just lying on, and the sheets still smell like you.
Peter unbuckles his belt and pushes down his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers and instantly feeling a sense of relief.
He imagines you lying in your bed, right now, two fingers between your legs. You’re so wet from being with Peter, the guy you’re into, all day, that your fingertips easily glide over your skin.
Peter shifts and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum. The warm, familiar pressure is already building up in Peter’s body, and he slides his fist up and down himself faster.
In Peter’s mind, you’re spreading your lips now, holding the vibrator against your clit. You jolt at the first contact and smile, knowing you’re about to feel nothing but bliss.
Your body relaxes and you let the vibration take over completely, chasing your orgasm that’s so close after only a minute. You throw your head back when you cum, your eyebrows scrunched together. Your legs start shaking once you can’t take it anymore, but you press the vibrator to your clit during the last few aftershocks.
Peter cums at the same time as you do in his imagination. He’s spilling over his abs and his hands, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
He lies in his bed for a few more moments, sighing as he cleans up the mess he just made. He gets a message from you: Had a nice day btw :) Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow <3
He smiles and texts back, too exhausted to feel bad for what he just did.
Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that you’re spending time together and you’re showing no signs of getting tired of him. But at this rate, it seems like Peter will never know what being with you while you orgasm is actually like.
He can be patient, but he doesn’t know if he’s waiting for something that will never happen. 
He doesn’t even care about the sex, he just wants to hold your hand and know what it means, know that it means that you’re in a romantic relationship.
He’ll give you all the time you need, that’s all he can do. He simply can’t confess his feelings, he can plan on doing it and dream about it as much as he wants, but when he’s standing in front of you he can’t risk losing you.
Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough, and who knows, maybe you’re thinking the exact same thing right now, trying to be brave but you just can’t.
Maybe.
*
Peter knocks at your door the next day, ready to get pancakes like you always do on Sundays. There’s a lot of commotion behind the door and you take a while to open it.
“You’re early,” you say, hair messy and overall dishevelled.
“Am I? I don’t mind waiting,” Peter says.
“I’ve just quickly got to shower, you can go back to your room or wait here, whichever you want.”
“No problem, I’ll just wait here.” Peter feels as if that’s the wrong answer because you don’t exactly look thrilled that he’ll be in your room, but you still let him in with a small smile. He knows that you can’t be mad at him and by the time Peter’s on your bed and you're about to go to the bathroom, you’re giving him a genuine smile and say you won’t be long.
Peter gets out his phone as he hears you turning on the water and he drops to his back on your bed.
Just as he’s about to go on Instagram, he hears a quiet, mechanical whirring. He wouldn’t be able to pick up on it without his enhanced hearing.
He hears how you smack your hand over your mouth, but you’re not quick enough. Peter still heard a tiny moan.
So that’s why you didn’t want Peter coming in. You’ve probably been making yourself cum all night and you weren’t finished with the last round.
Peter sits up and tries to stick his fingers in his ears, but even if he can’t hear you anymore he’s still got the vivid image of you in his head, only a wall separating you two.
He stands up and looks for something to distract himself before he gets hard, but to make things even worse, Peter’s eyes land on a pair of panties next to your bed.
He feels like a perv as he picks them up. He can see your arousal still glistening in them, and it’s like they’re calling out Peter’s name.
He’s about to lift them to his face when he hears you turning off the water. Peter stuffs the panties into his jeans pocket quickly and out of reflex. He stiffly sits on your bed, unsure if he still has enough time to pull your underwear out of his pocket again and throw it under your bed. 
He’s too nervous to hear what you’re doing, his ears ringing, and before he can bring himself to quickly put your underwear back, you’re coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.
With your innocent rambling about college he manages to calm down but you and your stupid vibrator are still on his mind. But it’s a good thing that you two can talk about stuff like that, so maybe he’ll get his mind off it once he asks you about it.
“So, is it good?” He asks you as you slide into the booth at the place you always go to for pancakes.
“Is what good?”
“Your, your vibrator thing? You didn’t send me a review,” he says.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” you laugh, “It’s so good, oh my god. I’m so glad we don’t have roommates here cause I did it like six times last night. I get why people pay so much for it. I mean it’s supposed to simulate oral sex and I can’t imagine that it feels the same but I guess I’ll find out one day.”
“You always have me if you want to find out how it feels.”
He can only gather the courage to say that because of what you once said about sucking his dick for practice so you could suck Andrew’s dick for a better score. The only difference is that you turned out to be joking, but Peter is serious.
He probably sounds too serious too because you give him a questioning, “Huh?”
“Well- well I’m just saying if you wanna compare your toy to oral sex then I... you know... my tongue is available to you,” he says it exactly how it comes to his mind, unsure if he should make it sound more like a joke.
You laugh, declaring it a joke yourself, “Okay, thanks. You’re so cute.”
It’s not ideal but the fact that you’re not running away from him and gagging shows him that at least the thought of Peter going down on you doesn’t disgust you. The fact that you made a joke about going down on him first, even if that was weeks ago, gives Peter a tiny bit of hope that maybe his instinct has been right all this time. Maybe you do like him back and you just need a bit more time.
“Um, I heard that next week there’s going to be loads of shooting stars. I was thinking we could drive out of the city and go stargazing. I already asked James and he said we can take his car–the truck, it’s big enough for us to lie down in while we look at the sky, it’s going to be warmer next week too and–”
“I’d love to,” you grin.
He mirrors your smile immediately because it actually took a lot of convincing for Peter’s friend James to let Peter have his car. And more importantly, looking at the stars sounds very romantic. He wasn't sure if he should invite you to something so obviously romantic.
What if it makes you realise that Peter likes you and you distance yourself from him because you don’t feel the same?
What if you do feel the same, but you need your time and it’s too early for a date-like activity?
But what if... what if it’s just the right thing?
You hold hands, you’ve slept in a bed together, so Peter doubts you will be freaked out by stargazing. But Peter can already feel the butterflies just thinking about lying under the night sky with you, and what if you don’t?
But maybe Peter is ready for the risk after all. He’ll see if you’re enjoying yourself, try to see in your beautiful eyes if you’re as smitten as him. He's realised that he’ll have to try one day and now that you’ve agreed to his plan, it feels like this is the right timing, the right thing. Maybe he’ll even ask you how you feel, or make a comment about how romantic the situation is.
And if you and Peter belong together, then maybe it’s time for you. He certainly feels that he’s ready. He’s not expecting a kiss, he’s not expecting anything except the tiniest hint that a romantic night with Peter doesn’t leave you cold. That would be more than enough to keep him going for so many more months to come.
He can wait if you need time but he’s just one man and his passion for you burns so brightly inside him that he just needs something, no matter how small it is.
You two walk home, your bellies filled with pancakes and warmth from seeing your person. No matter if it’s platonic or romantic, Peter would be blind if he didn’t see that he makes you happy and how much you glow and grin and his presence. 
You hang out on campus for a bit more but you tell him you still need to study and you’ll see him tomorrow (he tries not to think about how you’re probably lying and are simply going to use your vibrator over and over).
Peter changes into sweats once he gets to his room and as he’s putting his jeans away he notices something pink peeking out of the pocket. Your panties. He completely forgot about them.
He carefully pulls them out, holding them like they’re a sacred treasure.
Making himself comfortable on his bed, he takes a deep breath before bringing your underwear up to his face.
He doesn’t know what he was expecting your arousal to smell like, not like this, but it’s even better. 
It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.
He bunches your panties up in his hand and presses them against his face, inhaling your scent while he reaches a hand under his sweatpants and strokes himself. 
He’s been hard since he remembered he had your panties and he doesn’t even think about you making yourself wet, your smell alone has him coming undone within seconds.
He does it again before going to bed, this time wrapping the panties around his hand so he’s jerking himself off with them. He bites his t-shirt in an attempt to muffle his moans as the material slides up and down his cock.
He fucks his fist as hard and as fast as he can, his bed starting to squeak from the intensity of it.
Your wetness on your panties has long dried but the thought of your arousal so close to his dick has him–once again–reaching his orgasm pathetically fast. He sighs after he cums, examining the panties to make sure he pulled them away in time and there’s none of his cum on them.
He wants to save them for another time; as many times as they’ll still have your addicting smell on them.
He cleans the mess off himself, his cum ending up in a tissue that he throws into the trash can with all the other tissues. He’ll empty it before you come over the next time.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚:*:・。
You’ve been driving for half an hour now, the city nothing but a few lights in the rearview mirror. 
You find a spot next to a field, not a soul to be seen anywhere near you. You get the blankets and snacks to make yourselves comfortable in the back of James’s pickup truck that Peter borrowed.
“Look,” you point towards the sky, but Peter misses the shooting star. He goes back to looking at your beautiful face, only to find your eyes already on him.
He feels your hand on the side of his face, pushing his head to face the sky again, “Look at the stars, not at me,” you say and he can hear the grin in your voice. You’re enjoying yourself, and that’s all that matters. You want him to enjoy himself too, not knowing that your face is so much more interesting to look at.
After a few moments of staring into the brightly lit sky–it never looks like this in the polluted city–he has to admit, the night sky isn’t bad either.
It only takes a few seconds until another shooting star races across the sky and you share an excited look, “Did you see that?” You ask.
“You’re supposed to make a wish,” Peter whispers, eyes closed as he wishes for a relationship with you.
You’re still looking at him when he opens his eyes, your gaze intense, eyes flitting across his face.
“Did you make a wish?” Peter asks. You nod and slowly divert your gaze towards the masterpiece of nature above you again.
He can’t shake the feeling that your wish also had something to do with him. Something romantic. He always overthinks and doubts himself but this is one thing he’s sure about.
But the moment is fleeting and Peter doesn’t find the words to say. You’re back to looking at the stars, and he doesn’t want to have to grab your face to kiss you.
He swallows down the disappointment and tries to enjoy the time with you, his dear friend. Not many people have a friendship like yours and at this moment he just tries to be grateful for that.
“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.
“Mhm?”
“I’m so glad we met,” you turn to your side, your whole body facing him now. He can hear the raw emotion in your voice, he thinks he can even see tears in your eyes. That’s what your shared love does to Peter too. He could cry just thinking about it.
“Me too,” he says, reaching for your hand, trying to bring the monstrosity of his feelings into words to let you know that nothing has made him as happy as meeting you, but the words won’t come out. 
“Our friendship means so much to me,” you say, and it stings. In this romantic moment, cuddled up beneath the stars, is that all Peter will ever be to you? A friend?
You continue, “I‘m sorry if I ruin it with what I‘m about to do.”
“What–”
You lean in and kiss Peter.
The world stops. Nothing matters, nothing but your lips on Peter’s. He always thought he’d be overcome with great excitement when you first kiss, an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his insides, but he feels at peace. It simply feels right.
“Did I just ruin our friendship?” You whisper, and it’s then that Peter realises that he barely kissed you back. He was too stunned to.
He puts his hands on your face and pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours over and over.
“You didn’t ruin our friendship, you turned it into something better, so much better. And you know that our friendship is hard to beat,” Peter says.
You let out a laugh of joy, “It is,” and you kiss him again, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him as close as you can.
Your lips are soft, so so soft, and even in the cold night, Peter feels warm because he has your body against his.
“Could you maybe uh… slap me?” Peter asks.
“Um, what?”
“Just so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”
You pinch his cheek instead and you both smile. Peter’s not waking up. He’s already awake. It’s not a dream, this is actually happening.
The fireworks come after all, an explosion of happiness shooting through his chest when he realises that this is real.
He hugs you tight, as tight as he can without breaking you.
Peter’s heart drops when you pull away and tears stain your cheeks, “What-what’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing, nothing,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m just so happy.” Your voice breaks as more tears rush down your face but your eyes are full of happiness.
Tonight, Peter was hoping for a hint that maybe in the future you see something more than friendship between you two too. What he got was all of you. A confession of your feelings, a raw exposure of your deepest emotions, vulnerability. But you trust him. And he’s so glad you do. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe and comfortable. 
He starts crying too, just a few tears, either because he’s seeing you cry or because it’s the first time in his life that he’s ecstatic enough to experience happy tears—he’s been waiting for this for so long, unsure if it would ever even happen. All the doubt from the last months tumbles away – none of it matters anymore. You kissed him. 
“I really want to blow my nose but I don’t want to leave you,” Peter sniffles.
You look at him, “Go blow your nose, Peter.”
“Okay.”
“I have some tissues in my bag.”
You keep your hand on Peter’s leg while he reaches for your bag and half a minute later you’re reunited again with you lying in Peter’s arms.
You drove all the way to look at the stars but you can’t keep your eyes off each other, never going more than a minute without kissing. It takes a few more minutes for you to pretend that the stars are more interesting than Peter, and you straddle him once you decide you can’t go any longer without being as close to him as possible.
Peter wraps his arms around your waist, enjoying your weight on him. The kisses turn from pecks into something more, but it’s soft and unhurried. You’re taking your time with Peter, savouring the feel of him while Peter takes it all, takes all you give him.
Your wet mouths on each other is the only sound far and wide; even mother nature is quiet as you kiss Peter in the back of this truck, out in the country with no one else around.
You shift, your lips never leaving Peter’s, and start grinding against him, slowly.
He squeezes your waist harder as it becomes difficult to control himself. The only thing stopping him from ruining his pants is the fact that you’re both wearing jeans, so you’re narrowly missing Peter’s hardness, doing what feels good for you.
You stop abruptly with horror in your eyes and Peter strokes your back, “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”
You look down, a bashful smile on your lips, “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”
Peter stops himself from groaning. He’s getting more turned on with every passing second.
“You don’t have to stop on my behalf.”
After two seconds of contemplation, you kiss Peter again, adjusting your position. You both gasp into each other’s mouths when you’ve perfectly aligned your bodies, and they start moving perfectly in tune with one another.
“I’ve been dreaming of having you on top of me for so long,” Peter says, hands now on your hips, feeling your every movement.
“And I’ve wanted to be on top of you.. for so long,” you’re distracted, pushing yourself up with your hands on Peter’s chest, your voice faltering as you hold in a moan.
Peter feels incredible – everything you do makes him feel incredible. 
So incredible that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t cum yet, but he’s trying so hard not to.
He nearly moans when you grab his hoodie harder and you whimper, “I’m so close.”
One hand is at your jeans, trying to undo the buttons but you can’t, too lost in pleasure.
“Peter, unbutton my jeans,” you say–or rather whimper, “Please.”
And even though he’s on the brink of coming, nothing matters more than your orgasm right now, so he quickly fumbles with the buttons and opens them, your hand disappearing down your pants immediately.
Peter grabs the backs of your thighs as you cum on top of him, your face more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined, so pretty and so vulnerable just for him. He cums at the same time as you, trying to hide it but his hips push up against yours nevertheless.
You let yourself fall to Peter’s side, hiking your leg up over his lap. Peter puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“Did you uh..” you look up at him, half teasing him, half unsure if it even happened.
Peter drags a hand over his face, “Yeah… I.. came in my pants.”
“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”
He looks at you, “No, don’t apologise, that was one of the best moments of my life.”
You give him baby wipes from your bag while you pack the stuff and wait for him in the car. He reluctantly hands you the baby wipes when he gets in next to you, looking at your lap.
“What?” You ask.
“I’ve known how you smell for nearly a week now and I don’t know how much longer I can go without having a taste of you.” He’s thinking about your panties, safely stored in his room but they’ve lost even the last traces of your smell.
You follow Peter’s eyes towards your crotch and figure out what he’s talking about, “How… how do you know how I smell?” 
Shit. 
He forgot that you’re not supposed to know that. 
But maybe, subconsciously, he said it on purpose so he can get any secrets out before you two get serious. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass, but he’s trying to look at the bright side. He’s not capable of any negative feelings when you just kissed him.
“Peter?” You ask. You don’t sound mad, you’re just curious.
“I uh, I took a pair of underwear from your room,” he starts.
“The pink ones? I’ve been looking for them.”
“Yeah, they’re pink. And it was the day after you got that clit sucking toy thing so I kept imagining you using it and then the smell made it so much more real…” he says, head hanging low in shame. You still don’t sound mad or grossed out but you haven’t heard all of it yet.
“Go on.”
“I used your underwear to um… jerk off,” he doesn’t meet your eyes until he hears your next words.
“That’s kind of hot,” you bury a hand in his hair, looking at him like you want to eat him up.
“R-really? You’re not mad?”
You shake your head and lean over to kiss him and Peter feels his blush up to his ears.
“I do want my panties back though.”
He tells you you’ll get them back and starts the engine to drive back.
“Wait,” you say, “Didn’t you want a taste?”
He immediately stops the car and leans over. 
“I- well, I didn’t get a chance to get that wet but..”
“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.
You kiss his nose and unbutton your jeans, your fingers disappearing beneath them. He hears the wetness and is hard at once. And that’s when you didn’t have a chance to get that wet? You pull two glistening fingers out and bring them in front of his lips.
His cheeks heat up when he leans forward to take them into his mouth. 
He moans at the taste. Sweet yet tangy. He wants to bury his face in you immediately; but you seem tired and he’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another time.
Peter pulls you close and kisses you, he’s not that good with words so he hopes his tongue in your mouth tells him how much he wants you. It doesn’t have to be now, he just wants you to know.
“I like you.” It slips out of Peter’s mouth when you pull away from the kiss but his words make you connect your lips to his again.
“I like you too,” you smile, nearly laughing because it should probably have been obvious to Peter as soon as you kissed him. Leaning back in your seat in content, you look at Peter with those beautiful eyes of yours. 
Those four little words could make him cry happy tears again but he pulls himself together when you turn on one of your favourite songs and he turns away when you use the baby wipes. 
Before he drives you two home, a thought pops into Peter’s head; a thought that he’s had time and time again and he has to make sure that you know exactly how he likes you.
“But I um… I want you to know that I really do like you, as a person, romantically. I– of course I enjoyed what just happened–you have no idea just how much–”
“I think it was obvious how much you enjoyed it, Peter,” you interrupt him with a teasing smile that makes him blush and stutter for a few seconds before he continues.
“So, while, of course, I’m into you sexually, the emotional and romantic part is so much more important to me, and I need you to know that. But I’ve had so many sexual thoughts about you and, now that I’ve told you that I had your underwear and everything–”
“So you feel bad that you’ve had sexual thoughts about me?” You sum it up and Peter closes his mouth and nods.
“Well, don’t. Peter, in the last month I’ve spent every minute away from you with my fingers between my legs, imagining–wishing they were yours. I’m glad I was not the only one, it’s nice to hear that you’ve been as affected as I’ve been.”
“Are you sure? Because I remember that time when you said how all guys on campus just think with their dicks and how I’m different from them but I’m really not that different. If I’m not thinking about hugging you or thinking about your smile, then I’m always thinking about getting in your pants. And that is a lot of the time. And I’m sure that, even if you’ve thought about me in that way too, I’ve thought about you way more and I just need to know if you think I’m a perv or something.”
“Peter, hey,” you cup his cheek, “I don’t think that. And you don’t think with your dick. You just said you’ve wanted me for months and you didn’t even kiss me. You’re the opposite of those guys that have nothing but sex on their minds so that they can’t even think straight and ruin friendships with girls. You didn’t do that. You thought about my and your feelings and about our connection rather than getting in my pants.”
“But I did think a lot about getting into your pants,” he sighs.
“I thought about you getting into my pants too. That’s fine. That’s the beauty of liking someone, there’s not just the romantic side but also the sexual side. But you didn’t let the sexual side control you and you cared about my feelings first and foremost. Don’t feel bad for thinking about having sex with me, I’m glad you do. But you do so much more than that. You’re nothing like those guys.”
“I’m not like the other guys?” Peter laughs and then kisses you. (He still can’t believe he’s been kissing you all night). You shake your head, reassuring him.
Hearing you say that helps him immensely. He never felt bad about imagining what having sex with you would be like. It was the fact that it was without your knowledge and he had no idea if you’d be grossed and creeped out if you knew about it because you only saw him as a friend. He was scared of making you uncomfortable if you ever found out.
But you’ve found out now and you’re not just saying that it’s okay for him to think about that, but that you have thoughts about it too. (And now his thoughts are going to be even better, knowing that you might be thinking the same thing as him and his fantasies might turn into more than just fantasies).
The journey back has both of you smiling; what just happened still seems unreal, but every shared grin reminds Peter that it really did happen.
It breaks Peter’s heart when he delivers you back to your room, but he can tell you need sleep and he’s not exactly wide awake either. You kiss him like you mean it and you don’t pull away until you’re breathless.
When he gets to his room, Peter quickly puts your panties in his laundry basket so he won’t forget, and then he throws himself onto his bed and squeals loudly. He doesn’t care if anyone hears, he’s happy and he doesn’t mind if people know.
He gets a message from his next-door neighbour Brian:
Bro, you okay?
I heard a weird noise
He texts back: Y/n kissed me :)))))
Brian: About time, happy for you!
Peter considers going over to talk to his friend and tell him all about tonight. He’s tired but there’s no way he’ll sleep now anyway.
He then gets a phone call from you, and he picks up immediately.
“Peter?”
His face drops at your unsure voice. Did you change your mind?
“Yeah?”
“Did… did that really happen?” He thinks he can hear something positive in your voice but it’s hard to tell over the phone.
“It did.”
“Oh,” you say, “Good. I’m having a hard time believing it actually happened. I’ve been waiting for so long.”
He smiles again immediately, “Trust me, it hasn’t fully sunken in yet for me either.”
“Do you maybe wanna come over?” You ask, “I know it’s late but it’s the weekend so..”
He jumps to his feet and sets off instantly, “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”
You giggle, “Me neither. I guess I was tired, but I’ll just be thinking about you all night anyway.”
You stay on the phone with him until he’s at your door, pulling him in for a kiss before he’s even in your room.
You push Peter onto the bed, lie on top of him, and hug him so tight that he can barely breathe. This would be the best way to go.
You’re both exhausted yet excited and interrupt each other with a kiss every few minutes while you’re talking about anything that comes to your mind.
“How long have you liked me?” You ask.
Peter smiles as he thinks back to the first time you met, “You made me nervous from the start because you’re so pretty, and then we talked about such personal things the first time we met. But I didn’t realise just how attracted to you I was until class a few days later when you were laughing about Professor Garfield’s jokes and talking about his ass.”
You pout and cup Peter’s cheek, “And then later I even made that joke about sucking his dick for a better score. Aw no, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he shrugs, “You just came on top of me and not him.”
You hide your face in his neck at the reminder that you just nearly had sex with Peter outside. His hand rubs over your back as if he’s not blushing at the thought of it.
“When did you start liking me?” He asks and you lift your head again.
“I thought you were cute the first time I saw you and then when we talked in the kitchen I knew I’d have to keep you because I immediately felt comfortable around you. And then… I don’t know. You just did your thing. And then my heart did its thing too.”
“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”
“It worked wonders,” you push yourself up on your hands and kiss Peter again, staying on top of him for a while until his lips feel sore.
“But regardless of this romantic… and sexual side,” you shyly smile at each other, “I meant what I said. Our friendship means a lot to me. And I’m glad we became friends before anything else.”
“Me too.”
He knows what you mean. Being friends allowed you two to get comfortable around each other first without any pressure to do things to make you attractive to the other person. Now you have a solid base of trust and you know each other; you don’t have to worry about only showing your best sides like other couples do in the beginning stages. You know each other inside out, (except for the fact that you’ve liked each other for a while — but that’s different), the good, the bad, the ugly – yet you’re still choosing each other. Happily so. 
You both lie on your sides, Peter’s hand reaching over to rest on your hip. He can’t help but smile the whole time.
“Were you planning to kiss me? Or was it spontaneous?”
“I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to kiss you for months now, but for some reason it never occurred to me to make the first move. I was pretty sure you like me but the time went on and you didn’t make a move and I got scared that I’d ruin our friendship if I totally misinterpreted everything and you didn’t like me back. 
“And I would have never forgiven myself for that. But when we were lying in the back of that truck, underneath the stars, I don’t know, it was so romantic and you were looking at me with so much adoration that there’s no way I wouldn’t have kissed you. My heart was leading me, I only gathered the courage because my body did what it knew I had to do, I was not in control at that moment, but I guess sometimes it’s good to give up control. But it was definitely spontaneous.”
Peter leans down so his face is right in front of your chest and he whispers, “Thank you, heart,” to which he hears your gorgeous laugh. Your whole body moves with your giggles, pushing your chest even closer to his face. It takes a second for him to get the willpower to pull his face away again.
You connect your lips to his a few more times, Peter’s heart fluttering with every passing second.
“Just so you know, I have liked you all this time, you were right. But I felt the same as you and you’re the most important person to me so I didn’t want to take even the slightest risk when it came to us. There were times when I thought our friendship would even survive me confessing my feelings and you not feeling the same, but by not telling you there was always the hope that you did like me. 
“But if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, even if our friendship survived, it wouldn’t have mattered because it would have broken my heart into a million pieces. And I couldn’t put myself through that-”
“I’d never do that. I’ll take good care of your heart, Peter.”
“I know you will.”
You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.
“Okay, looking back, I probably should have known that you like me as more than a friend. Your love for my legs gave it away, but at the time I didn’t realise-”
“How do you know that I love your legs?” Peter asks as he turns red, looking at your thighs and resisting the urge to put his hand on one of them.
“When you were drunk, you told me how much you love them. You were basically drooling because of them.”
“Oh.. I don’t remember that. But I do love them.”
“I know,” you smile as you place one of his hands on your thigh and he squeezes the flesh.
You lie next to each other for a while, breath evening out and Peter thinks you’ve fallen asleep until he hears your voice, “Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“I still can‘t believe that this is actually happening. It‘s like when you‘re at a concert and you don‘t realise that you‘re seeing your favourite artist live and in person, and afterwards you still haven’t realised, and you never really get how lucky you were.”
Peter turns to his side to face you, his tired brain taking a while to answer, but he’s satisfied with what he says, “But a concert only happens once, and we‘ll be together forev— a long time. And longterm. We have plenty of time to realise that it‘s real. Maybe we‘ll realise if you kiss me again.”
You grin immediately and lean in to connect your mouth to Peter’s.
He understands what you’re saying, he can’t quite believe it either. It’s been too long for it to be a dream, he knows that it’s real, but it’ll take a few days for him to realise that he really is the luckiest person on earth. 
He’s grateful that you two have something so beautiful that it nearly feels impossible.
You touch each other for a bit, not sexually, you’re just touching each other’s skin, realising more and more that this is reality.
You lazily make out for a few more minutes until Peter drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had, with you in his arms.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚:*:・。 
It’s been a few weeks since that one eventful night and you’re spending even more time with each other than before. Making out with you has become Peter’s new hobby.
He loves that you’re experiencing all your sexual firsts together. You haven’t actually done anything more than kiss since the night under the stars, and he’s more than happy to be patient if you need it but he’s looking forward to more.
“Is it okay if we don’t go all the way yet?” You ask him while you’re both hydrating and eating fruit between makeout sessions, “I definitely want to soon, but maybe not… not yet.”
Peter pulls you on top of his lap and holds you, “We established that the very first time we met, didn’t we? Of course it’s okay if we wait.”
“Okay,” you kiss him, “I don’t mean that we can’t do anything though.”
Peter licks his lips when he realises you’re planning something. You push Peter’s chest so he lies on his back and you slot your hips over his. His eyes flutter shut when he feels your mouth on the special spot on his neck and you slowly start grinding on him.
He grabs your hips and opens his eyes again when you stop kissing him to focus on that sweet place between your legs rubbing against Peter.
You stop when your eyes meet, “You have to close your eyes.”
“I wanna see you though.”
“It’s different from the first time, we’re not out during the night. And the position’s uncomfortable.”
“Then let’s change it.”
He’s already hard and if you continue like that he won’t take much longer; but your pleasure is more important to him so he pulls his sweat shorts further up his leg and lifts you onto his thigh. 
Your eyes go down and you realise what he wants you to do, “But you–”
“Shh, this is about you right now, okay? And I’ll cum as soon as you do anyway so don’t worry about me. This okay?”
He sees how his words give you confidence and you nod, letting yourself fully sit down on his thigh. Peter knew he liked your pretty skirt for more than aesthetic reasons because the only thing between your warm pussy and Peter’s skin is your underwear. He could cum from the feeling of your wet heat through your panties alone, but he tries to focus on making you breathless with his kisses once you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close.
He holds you as you rock yourself on his thigh, becoming surer in your movements after a while, finding what feels best for you. Peter instinctively flexes the muscles in his thigh when you change your position slightly, and your little gasp tells him to continue doing it.
Your wetness slowly but surely drenches your panties and reaches Peter’s skin. You grab his shirt hard and bury your other hand in his hair, pulling. Peter tries bouncing his leg up and down and is rewarded with the sweetest moan coming from your mouth, followed by a gasp and a whispered: “I’m gonna cum.”
Your legs get weaker while you’re coming but, through his own approaching orgasm, Peter pushes your hips in whatever direction you want them to go and together you try to savour your highs for as long as possible. 
Out of breath, you’re still holding onto Peter tightly. As your hand in his hair slowly lets go, you press a kiss to his head, your hand on his shirt easing too as you smooth down the material.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask carefully but Peter shakes his head and purses his lips for you to give him a kiss, and you smile when you do.
“Oh, wait did you really cum?” You’re glancing down at the wet spot on his pants but your eyes widen when you get off him and realise how much you leaked onto his thigh yourself.
“I don’t know how I couldn’t cum when I have the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world having an orgasm on my lap.”
You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from him while your cheeks heat up. You get off him and he goes to the bathroom to clean up.
You’re absentmindedly biting your lip when Peter comes back and he pulls you out of your daydream with a kiss.
“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”
Peter freezes for a second and then jumps onto the bed. You laugh, “Wait, I need a break first.”
“Okay,” he sits down next to you and swallows. He’s hard already just from the thought of going down on you. He couldn’t be happier that you want him to do it, he’s had daydreams (well, he’s mostly thought about it during nighttime) about it so many times.
“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He asks. It’s something you’ve done for him countless times and he doesn’t return the favour as often as he’d want to because your massages are heavenly and he can barely get up after.
“Yes please,” you lie down on your stomach, “But don’t stand on me.” You both chuckle.
Your massages consist of kneeling or standing on Peter’s back. It sounds painful but to him it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t just like your weight on his lap, he likes you on top of him in various scenarios.
He’s kneading your shoulders for about a minute when you suddenly sit up, “Okay, the break is over, can you eat me out now?”
A smile spreads over Peter’s face and you kiss him, a similar expression on your lips.
You get comfortable on your back and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your skirt.
Peter sits between your legs, speechless, thumb rubbing over the large wet spot on your panties. You gasp when he touches you there but Peter can’t continue before showing you how much he loves your tits first. They're perfect.
He kisses his way up your stomach, inching further up until your nipple is in his mouth and your hand goes into his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of one of your boobs in his hand and the other one against his tongue until you push his head away.
He worries he’s hurt you but you whimper and spread your legs, pulling them up against your chest, “Please,” is all you can manage to say. Peter’s hands wander down your sides and between your legs, his fingers gliding over your panties.
Peter drags your underwear down your legs slowly, a string of your arousal staying connected to your panties momentarily. He licks his lips and kneels in front of the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.
With your legs on his shoulders, Peter kisses your clit once, watching as your eyes flutter shut. He’s forgetting that this is your first time too, so your expectations probably aren’t too high. And you’re wet from your earlier orgasm and it seems to be doing wonders for you; you already start arching your back when Peter licks up and down your clit a few times.
He savours the taste of you on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted, and knowing that he’s tasting you because you’re wet for him makes things even better.
As he plays with your clit, his tongue in your pussy, he puts a hand on your stomach. It’s just because he doesn’t know where else to put his hand, but you grab some of his fingers, holding his hand and Peter’s convinced his eyes must be shaped like hearts right now. He’s always loved holding hands with you.
He makes out with your pussy, your juices all over his mouth, and he starts sucking your clit.
“Peter..” your voice comes out as a whimper and you grip his hand harder. You arch further into him and your eyes squeeze shut, and Peter can tell you’re coming – on his tongue, with his face between your legs, just like he’s imagined so many times but it’s so much better than what he ever could have wished for.
He only pulls his mouth away from you slowly, not wanting the moment to end. You don’t let go of his hand, instead using your intertwined fingers to pull him up so Peter can kiss you. 
You hug him like you never want to let him go again and Peter gladly complies. He wraps his arms around you and lies on top of you for as long as you’ll have him.
“I’m too tired to return the favour,” you say after a while.
“That’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 
He’s glad you said it because then you won’t need to find out that he came in his pants ages ago, yet again, and you don’t need to be reminded of what a loser your boyfriend can be and how you’re the opposite.
Peter lifts his head so you’re looking at each other, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him on the lips a few times.
“I’m getting cold,” you say.
“I’ll keep you warm.”
You smile and kiss his forehead, “I should get dressed. And I need to pee. But you can cuddle me again after.” Peter gets up and scoops you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you.
He carries you to the bathroom and even though he’s completely dressed and you’re naked and vulnerable, he can tell you’re content and comfortable by the way you drop your head to his shoulder and let him hold you.
You’re in the bathroom while gets the clothes you asked him to get from your room, but he changes first so he’s not walking around the student accommodation with a mess in his pants.
You’re sitting on the bed in all your naked glory when he gets back. He stares for a second, smiling softly as he realises how lucky he is to get to see you like this, that he’s the only one in the world who does and that you want him to see you like this.
It’s later in the night and you’re in bed, you sitting on top of Peter, kissing him. It’s not sexual; you’re enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, locking lips over and over and over. Peter couldn’t be happier. There’s a smile on his face the whole time.
“I like kissing you. Like a lot,” you say.
“I love kissing you.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna be my boy—”
“Girlfriend? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He interrupts you, somewhat surprised.
You grin and throw your arms around him, “Yes.”
“Sorry, I wanted to say it. After you made the first move I wanted to do this.”
“Everything okay?” You ask, realising he’s not telling you everything simply by looking at him.
“Well I don’t know, I kind of thought we were together already,” he says and your face softens.
“Oh. I mean we may as well have been. But we never properly talked about it. And just now I realised how sad I was that I couldn't officially call you my boyfriend, so I wanted to make sure that I could.”
“You’re right, now we have talked about it. And now it’s official. The most beautiful woman in the world is officially my girlfriend,” he beams as he cups your cheek and kisses you again. 
You lie down next to him, his arm around you as you cuddle into his side.
After a few moments of looking at Peter, you start giggling, as if you just remembered something funny or embarrassing about him.
“What?” He asks.
“Nothing just, I’m so into you, and you really weren’t sure if I liked you? I know we‘ve talked about how we were both too scared to ruin the friendship but we were both idiots. 
“I mean, I tried to give you the boldest, most obvious signs. I kept holding your hand, talked about me getting off. I changed in front of you, slept next to you half-naked? Peter, I said I’d suck your dick.”
“Yeah but it was only in relation to you sucking professor Garfield’s dick for a better mark.”
“Knowing me, do you think I’d really suck a professor’s dick to get a better score?”
He shrugs, “Well, not when you say it like that, no. But we didn’t know each other that well yet. And hearing the girl you like say she’ll suck another guy’s dick isn’t nice regardless of if she’s being serious or not.”
You pout and cup his face, kissing him a few times, “I only want your dick, promise.”
“And my dick only wants you,” he says, earning a small laugh from you.
“But seriously, I contemplated peeing while you were in the bathroom with me at that party. If there was an obvious sign that I liked you, it would be that,” you joke.
“Just so you know, you can pee in front of me. And as long as you’re okay with that, I’d also feel comfortable peeing in front of you.”
You scrunch up your face, “We’ll avoid it if we can.” You both laugh but you know it would be no big deal and you’d be comfortable with it. It sounds like a weird thing to bond over, but Peter thinks it’s sweet.
“Anyway, I know I brought it up but can we stop talking about peeing so you can go down on me again?”
Peter’s eyes light up, “Yes, yesyesyes,” and he starts kissing down your body.
*
“So,” Peter asks you a few days later, “You know how you said your sex toy is supposed to feel like oral sex? So who’s better? Me or the vibrator?”
You give him an exaggerated pout and scoot closer to him on the bed, ”Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”
You’ve just come back from a date Peter planned. You got take-out from your favourite restaurant and ate it next to the river that goes through the city. You walked for hours, holding hands, talking, getting ice cream and just being with each other.
While Peter loves going out with you, he’s not sure if anything can beat spending time alone with you, in your bed, utterly comfortable and being nothing but yourself. Not to mention that you two can have sex whenever you want to.
“I don’t mind if you say it’s the vibrator, I mean it’s made for making you feel good and I’m just some guy,” Peter says, “It’s literally called a clit-sucker.”
“Sex with you is better but if you’re comparing the toy with you sucking my clit, then the vibrator is better, yes,” you move to his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his head.
“Can I use it on you?”
You bite your lip when he says it, “There’s not much you can do, you just hold it against my clit.”
“I’d love to do that.”
You grin and start kissing him.
He flips you around so you’re under him. He slowly takes off all your clothes and you pull off his shirt. He can’t resist getting a taste of you before he starts, humming as he begins eating you out, tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit.
You whine when he stops but you both remember that you wanted to use your toy. He kisses his way up your body, your arousal on his lips.
“You’re so hot, I don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispers into your skin as he’s kissing your belly. You tug him up to you to kiss him with such intensity that tells him he deserves you, all of you. You’re made for each other. And you feel it too.
You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out your vibrator. Peter smiles as he spreads your legs and lies down between them.
“Like this?” He turns it on and you adjust the setting, lying back when Peter presses a kiss on your clit and places the toy on your pussy.
You put your hand over his, shifting it so it’s in the perfect place. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and rests his cheek against your other thigh, occasionally kissing the skin there. He brings his arm over your body, smoothing his hand over your tummy and grabbing one of your tits, playing with your nipple.
Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, burying your fingers in it as he tells you how pretty you are and how he wants you to cum.
You glance at Peter between your legs, smiling and laying your head back down on the pillow. A few moments later he notices your breathing changing and how your hips slightly buck up.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your back arching, and Peter puts his hand over your lower belly to keep you down. Your hand tightens in his hair as frantic breaths and strangled sounds leave your mouth, not able to form any coherent sentence.
After a few seconds, Peter wants to pull the toy away, thinking you’re done, but you hold his hand in place until your legs shake and he feels your belly convulsing under his hand. You’re coming until your head drops to the side and you let go of both his hair and his hand so he pulls away the vibrator.
“Oh–God. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Sorry if I hurt you,” your hand goes through his hair once more but he kisses your hand instead, “Don’t worry.”
You let your head fall back, your eyes not leaving Peter. The way you’re looking at him is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there, but he takes your hand and kisses you instead.
You wrap your legs around Peter’s waist and pull him as close as you can, “Can we go all the way? I feel so empty, I need you inside of me.”
Peter gulps at your words, pulling his hips away from yours so he doesn’t finish before you’ve even started. “Are you sure? Last week you said you wanted to wait.”
“Yeah, I am. I thought it would take me longer to be comfortable around you when I’m naked but I feel so good, and I like being naked in front of you. I like how you look at me and how it makes me feel,” you smile softly and kiss him.
“I like having you naked in front of me too.”
“I know, that’s why I’m so comfortable. And the fact that I want this so quickly shows me that it’s the right thing and also I just really really need you inside of me.”
“Oh my god,” he whispers, closing his eyes to refocus, “I have to get the condoms.”
“Make sure to hide this first,” your hands go to the front of his sweatpants and he playfully narrows his eyes at you because you know exactly that what you’re doing is not helping his situation.
After another kiss from you, he manages to pull himself away from you and hides his hardness as well as he can. He slips back into his shirt and runs to his room to get the condoms you two bought the other week just so you’d have them.
When he comes back you already have your fingers between your legs, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Don’t apologise, baby,” Peter says before taking off his clothes in record time and joining you on the bed. 
You make out for a few minutes, forgetting everything else. His fingers wander to your pussy, playing with your clit until you can’t keep kissing him anymore, distracted by the pleasure.
He slips one finger into your pussy first, then two.
“Peter, it’s not enough,” you moan with a desperation in your voice that makes him even harder which, up to this point, felt impossible.
“‘M just checking you can take it, get you used to having something inside of you.”
You sigh into his mouth and give him the dirtiest kiss you ever have. “Just so you know.. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warns you, afraid of disappointing you.
“I don’t care, I just need you right now.”
“What if I cum immediately once I’m in you?”
You hold his face in your hands, “Fuck, Pete, that’s so hot. I want you to cum inside of me.”
“Don’t say that because I will.”
“Please, please, I’m ready,” you whisper.
“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”
You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.
“Okay, just checking,” he says, putting on the condom. 
You hold on to his neck as he lines himself up with you, feeling how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you’re okay once he’s inside of you completely, “You okay?”
“Yeah, it feels even bigger inside of me.”
He blushes at you calling his dick big and runs a hand down your cheek, “Should I pull out?”
“No, no. Just give me a second.” 
You both take deep breaths once Peter starts rubbing your clit – you because you’re relaxing, Peter because he’s about to cum if he doesn’t focus.
He has you coming around his dick quickly. You press your chest against Peter’s when your back arches from the pleasure and you kiss the side of his face when you’re coming down from the high.
“Lift me up,” you tell him and you end up pushing Peter down on the bed, straddling his lap.
You place your hands on either side of Peter’s head, leaving him with your tits right in his face. You tell him to fuck you and with his hands on your hips, Peter slowly thrusts into you from below.
Your pussy squeezes him so tight, and you’re so warm, “Fuck, you feel so so good,” he groans. 
You start bouncing on him, meeting his thrusts halfway, now more used to him inside of you.
He closes his eyes, trying to think of something else but your quiet moans and your earlier words about wanting him to cum in you make him orgasm after a few more seconds.
He fucks you until he’s too exhausted to move and you grin down at him, both of you lying down to cuddle. 
You don’t say anything for a few minutes, both exhausted and content, only grinning at each other and occasionally giving the other a lazy kiss before you sit up on him again, your nipples right in front of his mouth.
He takes the opportunity to run his tongue around one, but you lean back, dazed, “No, no, you’ll make me horny again,” you smile, “And I don’t think I can take another orgasm right now.”
He kisses your sternum instead and picks you up in his arms so you can take a shower together.
Peter washes your body for you, taking his time to massage every part of you for a few seconds. He wants to spoil and pamper you and take as much work off your hands as he can. He knows you’d do the same for him.
Once you’re both clean, you stand under the water for a while, Peter’s arms around your waist, your back pulled to his chest. Your breathing is calm and your eyes are closed, completely relaxed against Peter.
“I came in here once,” Peter interrupts the silence.
You slowly open your eyes and turn around to face him, a smile making its way onto your face before it turns into a laugh, “What?”
“It was after that night when I got really drunk. I woke up with this perfect ass right against my crotch,” he squeezes one of your ass cheeks for emphasis. 
“You mean back when we were just friends?” You ask, pulling his arms around your body again, “That feels so long ago.”
“And at the same time like it was yesterday.” “Yeah,” you smile, “I probably would have helped you out if you’d asked.”
“Really?”
“I was already into you then and there’s no way I would have been able to–or wanted to–resist if I found out you were horny because of me. I was coming on my vibrator three times a day wishing it was you instead.”
Peter runs a hand over his face, remembering how scared he was that you’d never like him back, “I was wishing it was me too. I heard you that one time, when you were masturbating while I was waiting for you in there,” he nods his head towards the door to your room.
“You can’t blame me, you saw how that thing makes me cum,” you lean your head on his shoulder, hiding your embarrassment.
The moment you look down and see that Peter’s hard again, he stiffens even more.
“You’re getting harder from me looking at your dick?” You ask, licking your lips.
He nods, putting a hand around the back of your neck and gently pulling you towards him, kissing you to distract you from the blush creeping onto his cheeks.
While your teeth tug at Peter’s bottom lip, your hands smooth down his chest, over his faint happy trail and eventually you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps at the first contact and opens his eyes, meeting your lust-filled gaze, “I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” you say, starting to jerk him off with a slightly unsure look on your face.
“Is this okay?” You ask and Peter nods, “Show me how you do it,” you urge, lifting Peter’s hand to wrap it around your own.
With a firm grip, Peter guides your hand, “F-fuck,” is all he can manage to get out apart from a shaky breath. Your free hand runs across his chest, occasionally rubbing over his nipples, making him gasp. 
“I really need you to cum for me right now,” you whisper, looking down at your hand sliding up and down his dick. Your words make him groan and before he can prepare, waves of pleasure flow through him, his cum splashing all over your tummy. He can’t stop coming, especially not when you angle his cock further towards you, your belly now covered in him.
“Fuck,” you both moan at the same time and then you smile at each other. You step away from the spray of the shower, sliding a finger across your skin and sucking it into your mouth.
If he hadn’t already cum three times today, Peter would be hard in half a second. He shakes his head in disbelief, not sure what he did to ever deserve a girlfriend as sexy as you. He runs his thumb over your belly, picking up the rest of his cum on you and you open your mouth before he even asks you to.
He pushes it into your mouth slowly and you hum as he does it. Grabbing your face right after, he kisses you until neither of you can breathe. “Can I eat you out again now?”
You grin immediately, “Yes, but I’m tired.”
After you’ve dried off, he carries you to your bed, making sure you’re comfortable on it before his mouth disappears between your legs. He’s proud of how you grip his hair, grinding your pussy against his face and how you cum on his tongue.
He gets a notification on his phone just as he’s done kissing you after he made you cum. He ordered some food before you two went in the shower and it’s about to arrive.
“Go and get it, I can wait,” you tell him, but he makes sure to kiss your forehead and give you water and baby wipes before pulling on some clothes and rushing downstairs to get the food.
You eat it on your bed with a towel laid down to make sure nothing gets dirty. Peter likes how you randomly grab his hand while you’re eating or asking him to pass you your drink.
With some quiet music playing, you make yourselves comfortable in your bed, cuddling.
“Thank you,” you say, looking at him like he’s responsible for all good in the world.
“For what?”
“For everything. For taking care of me. For being you,” you slide your fingers between his. He picks up your intertwined hands and kisses yours, “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for being you, and for being with me.”
“There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with,” you lean over to kiss him, leaving your lips on his for a few seconds. “This white shirt looks so good on you, it’s my favourite,” you tell him, smoothing down the material and then resting your head on his chest.
“Thank you,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tight, “You know what looks even better on me?”
“Me?” You ask, already knowing what Peter is going to say and he adores you for it.
“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”
“I like this position, I like hearing your heart beating so clearly,” you say, nuzzling up against him.
“And I like that I can feel a heartbeat as soon as I put my hand here,” Peter smirks, sliding a hand between your legs and immediately feeling the pulsating warmth, even through your panties.
“Don’t blame me for getting turned on when the man I love touches my pussy,” you say, grabbing Peter’s hand into yours and away from your underwear to stop you from getting horny.
It takes both of you a second to realise that you just said that you love him. Probably because you’ve both felt it for a while; first as friends, then as lovers. Even if no one’s said it yet, it was obvious.
“I love you too,” he says softly and that’s when you realise what you just said. You turn towards him and start grinning, meeting Peter’s own wide smile. You start littering his face with kisses until he holds your face in place to kiss your lips. It’s like you melt right into his mouth once your lips touch his.
You spend the rest of the night telling each other that you love the other, giggling and cuddling and kissing until the early morning hours.
  *
Peter wants to sit through this lecture with you on his lap when you get to the lecture hall one minute before the lesson starts and there are no two seats free next to each other.
But you two promised yourselves that you weren’t going to be that annoying couple that has to be together at all times, so you two sit at opposite sides of the room.
Peter’s stomach tingles with jealousy when he sees that you’re sitting next to a guy you know. Brandon. Peter remembers him from the day you and Peter met. When it was Peter’s turn to tell an embarrassing sex story and he had nothing to say, you told Brandon to tell his story instead, distracting everyone and saving Peter.
He smiles when he thinks back to it; who knew that you two would end up in love?
But he hears your giggle through the entire lecture hall, over all the over murmuring, and Peter frowns. He knows it’s stupid if not wrong to be jealous about something so trivial. He’s more than okay with you having a male friend as long as he’s a good person; Peter’s happy about every nice friend you have.
But he’s spent the last few months getting to know you inside and out and you never mentioned Brandon. Now you’re talking to him like you’re best friends. Okay, the thing that bothers Peter the most is that you apparently knew Brandon’s sex story before he told it to the whole party.
Why were you talking to Brandon about sex? And why did you never mention it to Peter?
He knows you’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s ridiculous that he feels like this over a story and you laughing at another man’s jokes. If he was sitting next to you, he’s sure he’d be fine, but it doesn’t help that you’re out of reach.
He’s more curious than jealous, or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, knowing he has no right to feel this way about such a little thing.
He tries to accept the feeling, tries to focus on what Professor Garfield is saying but throughout the whole lecture Brandon is in the back of Peter’s mind.
By the end of the lesson, he’s more mad than anything else – mad at himself for being jealous. He doesn't want to turn into one of those possessive, toxic and controlling boyfriends. He trusts you and he should be okay with you having dozens of male friends.
He waits for you by the door when the lecture is over, and in the sea of students you and Brandon leave the room separately. Peter’s so focussed on Brandon that he only notices you standing next to him once you hold his hand.
“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately. Peter didn’t know he was being that obvious.
He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.
“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.
“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.
You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”
“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”
“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”
“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.
“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”
“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”
“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”
“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”
He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”
“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”
He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.
You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”
Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”
“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?” 
“Really?”
“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”
There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.
“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”
You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”
“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.
“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.
“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.
You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.
“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”
He nods.
“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”
Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”
“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”
“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.
“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”
Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”
“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”
“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again. 
“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.
“Y-yeah..”
“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.
“No wait–”
“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.
A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.
After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.
He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”
You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him. 
“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”
He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.
“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.
Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”
You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”
“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.
He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.
“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.
“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”
“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.
“What?” He sits up straighter.
“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.
“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”
You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.
You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.
Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.
You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.
“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.
He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.
You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.
But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.
“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”
“I don’t care.”
He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.
He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”
You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.
He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.
“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.
You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.
This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.
“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.
“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.
He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.
The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.
He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.
“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself. 
Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night. 
You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.
☆.。.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.。.:*☆
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bloggingboutburgers · 2 months
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Hey, allo anon with an ace partner here. I wanted to say thank you so much for the well wishes! I figured I would send this in here again, so anyone else who is curious about what this experience looks like from the other side can see it.
My girlfriend came out to me a little over 2 years into our relationship. At the time it surprised me a lot, because she'd never given me any signs that she wasn't enjoying what we were doing. After we talked more I understood that she wasn't repulsed by sex and she didn't hate it, but she didn't really love it either and wanted to stop doing it for a while (so a sex-neutral ace).
Honestly, at the time, I did get anxious about it. Not just because of social conventions, but because I had viewed sex as an important bonding part of our relationship. I don't do well with change, and I was super worried about how a lack of sex would change our dynamic. I also had some insecurities about my own body, and my girlfriend admitting that she didn't see me as sexy was upsetting. But after speaking to my therapist, I realized that I was projecting my own issues on to the relationship. So I spoke with her again, and she reassured me that she wanted to be with me, and that she was confiding these feelings because she trusted me. She likes how I look, she just doesn't have the same sexual impulses I do.
So, I realized this was pretty much like cuddling. I love physical touch a lot, and I want to cuddle for a much longer time than she does. I like it when someone lies on top of me. She doesn't want me on top of her chest during cuddling. She still cuddles with me, but she tells me when she's satisfied, and we stop.
A few months went by, and I noticed that she wasn't spending any less time with me; she was actually spending more. We would still call every evening when we didn't meet up in person, we would still joke around, and she still told me she loved me and did everything she could to show it to me. We also began trying out new stuff together, and playing games and watching stuff more often. We also still had plenty of physical intimacy with things like cuddling and kissing, which made me really happy.
I realized that I didn't feel like anything was missing from the relationship. I just needed her to show and tell me she loved me in the ways she normally did. Sure, I am still attracted to her that way, but it wasn't something that would make or break the relationship.
It's been years since she came out, and at this point, I never expect anything sexual. It happens rarely, and I always check in with her multiple times before and during. We stop at any point she tells me. There are quite a few hard boundaries about what is and isn't off limits, and I always keep them in mind. I would rather satisfy myself forever than make her uncomfortable, and she knows it.
It's been over 5 years and we are still going strong. I am hoping to ask her to marry me in the next few years, because honestly, I can't picture wanting anyone else by my side. She is kind, funny, beautiful, intelligent, and treats me well. I could never ask for anything more from a partner.
Thank you SO MUCH for sharing. I myself definitely lack knowledge of what it feels like from an allo's perspective, so this was very educational for me, but beyond that... You have no idea how much hope this gives me.
From you being aware of how much sex meant to you in the context of your relationship and still being fine without it, to just... Heck, even your therapist for not blaming her for the situation. Therapy is still very much, in my country at least, an area where the absence or lower levels of sexual attraction will be hastily labelled as something wrong physically or mentally, so... Yeah, the amount of relief I felt reading that, you have no idea. And I can only imagine how much your partner appreciates it too.
Honestly I teared up a bit reading this - I sincerely wish you guys all the best and I hope you have a bright future ahead! (Also fun fact, seems you guys have been together as long as my partner and I have, it's nice to be able to relate to that too hehe^^)
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lynnlovesthestars · 5 months
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Could you do a Astarion x Tiefling Reader were they are sitting alone underneath there tents canopy in and they are sewing to pass the time humming and doesn't notice Astarion walk up after he was looking for them . ( they could be making something for him maybe for his 'birthday' after learning that it was that day ) .
omg sorry i took so long but my creativity juices flow in funny ways ahah.. to make it a little easier for me, since my tiny brain has been having a hard time in putting words down, i thought it would have been nice to tie this up with a oneshot i wrote a few weeks ago.. i wish i followed better your prompt- though i hope you'll like it.
Ofc reading the part before this won't change the experience, but it was nice to tie them together cause it gave a little continuity and idk anyways i hope you'll like it though it's mostly introspective and a lil angsty when astarion shows up..
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Masterlist.
Part 1. (the one shot i tied this to)
My prompt list for requests.
Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird (i forgot to add it yesterday cause im an idiot, but better late than never ahah)
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Golden.
Pairing: astarion x GN!tiefling!reader
Summary: the huge tear in his shirt caught your eye again, and you decided to give him a reminder that someone cared about him.
Genre: angsty?, lots of thinking, self-doubt, avoidance✨
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You never noticed the tears carefully patched up on Astarion’s shirt until you were retrieving your dried clothes from the fire.
His button up sat up ripped on the stone like you left it on the night before, yet you still couldn’t help but focus on the smaller sewn tears already covering the fabric. It was such a precise job, that you wouldn’t have been able to tell that the fabric was ever broken until you looked closely and the places where the thread was tightly pulled became clearer.
You made a mental note of it as you walked back to your tent, holding up the bundle of yours and Astarion’s clothes.
The camp was lively that morning: yelling, singing, clattering of bottles and pans, along with rustling of the leaves had saturated the air, charging it with an electrifying energy.
In the middle of the chaos, your brain still stirred towards Astarion and the way you woke up curled up in his side, while he was meditating.
The tension that filled the tent the night before was gone. The only thing left from the night before was the ghost of his bite on your neck, and his body holding you to him.
When he broke his trance, he acted like nothing ever happened. Like you didn’t sleep twisted with him, or the way he drove you insane the night before.
You could still feel his lips on your neck as you collected your sewing kit from the tent, which still smelled like him, blood and bergamot.
As you spread the shirt on your lap, you could relive the events of the night before like a bard stuck on encore after encore.
You could feel the warmth of your bodies pressed to each other still spreading over your skin as you carefully prepared the essential to fix the tear.
You studied the tear that spread over the back, you knew it was going to be hard to make it seem flawless like the rest of them, but you wanted to attempt for him.
Worst case scenario, it was gonna stay broken anyways.
As you started to work on the tear, and you noticed how the uneven edges were not coming out nicely, an idea spurred in your mind.
At worst you were already planning on buying him a new one when you reached Baldur’s Gate. You had connections in the lower city, and you knew you could get a tailor to make the same button up if you brought a reference.
You worked on the shirt for what felt like hours, while everyone was enjoying their day, whether they took care of chores around camp or disappeared for walks, but as everyone came and left, the only one you had not seen was Astarion.
It was only when the sun was starting to set that you finally spotted him near his tent as he was looking for something in his bag.
You were just done with the shirt, and you couldn't help but hope he liked it.
You folded the shirt carefully along with the rest of his clothes, and as you were ready to head towards Astarion, he already stood in front of you.
His face was unreadable like he wanted to convey a specific emotion, but couldn't figure out how to. He was tense, his arms were frozen at his sides, so you decided to break the ice.
“I did this for you” You carefully showed him the pile of his neatly folded clothes, and his shirt on top.
“I wanted to fix your shirt, but the tear was too-” You started but before you could explain, Astarion had stopped you almost harshly.
“You didn't have to”He said briefly, it sounded mostly like an admonishment, yet you could have sworn there was some sort of softness to it. 
“I know, but I wanted to” 
“Why?” His furrowed brows were inquisitive, trying to gauge your intentions as he wetted his lips. 
“Cause I care about you, I literally told you yesterday” The words slipped out of your lips just as quickly as your tail was swishing nervously.
He scoffed, folding his arms and turning his eyes away from you. “No one does things for free” You could tell there was something odd from him, as if he was trying to bury something under this indifference he was trying to put up now.
“Count this as a gift then” You jutted your chin towards him and invited him to take the clothes still in your arms.
He was taken aback by the simplicity with which you said those words, almost carelessly, and most of all to the person that deserved them the least, especially how hard he was being with you.
He wanted to quip back but you resumed your explanation before he could even think of a response and he wanted to hate it so much. 
“As I was saying, I tried to fix the tear, but it didn't want to look nice, so I embroidered the shirt with a gold pattern” You explained as you pointed at the button up. Astarion was so focused on shielding himself that he didn’t even look at his clothes, she could have gave him one of her shirts for what he knew and he would have not realized it until he would be in his tent. 
His eyes finally fell on the piece of clothing his mouth fell slightly open. He traced the golden thread carefully, as if it was a creation of his sick mind. “I hope it’s not too much.”You trailed off, your words were warm, almost sticking to his skin like glue. He wanted to shake them off himself, he wanted to yell that he didn’t deserve such attentions, that you were an idiot to do all of this for someone that had planned to use you, but it was like something in his body stopped him from screaming and lashing out at you, the only thing he could manage to do was the simple task he gave himself in the morning.
“I came here to thank you for last night, and for your kindness” He started with a honeyed voice. “But I suppose I have one more thing to add to the list” He clutched the bundle of clothes to his chest, tipping his head forward in thank you.
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strangersmunsons · 2 months
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💖 Eddie Munson x Reader Fic Recs 💖
I just wanna show some appreciation for a few of my all-time favorite Eddie fics! Here’s a handful of the series & oneshots that have really stuck out to me in all the time I've been reading - there's A TON of great writers on here who have posted really stellar work :^)
List under the cut!
june baby by @luveline - luveline jade u are a celebrity to me. this was the first Eddie story I ever read and it is so beautiful. it's tender. it's melancholy. it's realistic. it's gorgeous. it honestly makes me feel something I've never felt reading any other fanfiction.
oh, baby by @inknopewetrust - another one of my first Eddie fics! the feeling that this series invoked in me is what I aspire to invoke in others for my own writing someday. it's just so sweet and funny and made me nostalgic, in the same way that watching '80s teen films do, except it's even better because Eddie is in this one. I wanted so badly to just dive into the story and really experience it for myself.
hoping I'll find [a glimpse of us] by @inknopewetrust - this smashed my heart into 1000 pieces, and then promptly glued it very sloppily back together and I've reread it like six times just to reinflict the pain. I love rockstar!Eddie stories that maintain some realism about what that type of relationship would look like, and this fic does that SO perfectly. masterclass in angst right here.
dancing with myself by @ambrossart - this one hits close to home! and even though it hurts along the way, there's a happy ending that it builds so nicely towards! it's beautifully paced & the reader is very funny. you can just tell that the her backstory & relationship w/ Eddie was so carefully thought out, it really feels like this was written with so much love! and I LOVE that it doesn't paint Chrissy as a villain.
10 things I hate about you by @spideyanakin - so glad that we all collectively agree that Patrick is Eddie-coded. and in this fic the parallels are there, without Eddie sacrificing his own unique character - that part is handled really beautifully! and the ST characters are worked into the original movie's narrative so well. it's the perfect mix of fluff and drama!
freaky friday by @jo-harrington - I adore this series! I love this version of Eddie so much I could cry, he is so sweet and selfless, I want to give him the entire world. and an Eddie & Steve body swap? 10/10. lindsay and jamie lee, eat your hearts out.
to know you're mine by @blueywrites - oooohboy. I almost didn’t read this one (just because I would normally avoid swinging/cheating in a fic) but I'm so glad I did, because it was like being on the homer's odyssey of 18+ ST fanfiction. it’s wild. bluey girl u were insane for this. and i mean that as an extremely high compliment. i was so damn invested!
i will wait by @abibliophobiaa, @blueywrites, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, @fracturedarkness - there's three chapters, it's on hiatus, I don't care, I will literally keep reading these three chapters over and over again and just fill in the blanks myself if I must. it's that good. you guys are amazing. I am totally enthralled.
rumor by @msgexymunson - this is what turned me on to older!Eddie. I love him, and I desire him carnally, and specifically this version of him. when I daydream about Eddie sweeping me off my feet, I think about Eddie in this series. he's everything to me. I even wrote my own older neighbor Eddie fic because of this!
trapped under ice by @munson-blurbs - the iron grip this fic had me in...I'm still going back and re-reading my favorite parts. it's beautifully developed. this version of Eddie is so real and believable. Harris is my favorite kid he's ever been given. an all-time, truly, I can't sing its praises enough.
siren!eddie by @parkermunson - a monster-ish Eddie fic! I'm a sucker for anything that incorporates mermaids and sirens and the like, so I really love this concept. it's a great story, I love our protective, doting fishboy, and hope to see more of him!
use me by @reysorigins - simultaneously the nastiest and sweetest fic ever. smut, but it's interspersed with these moments of such deep-seated love and yearning between Eddie and the reader that it made me want to cry! incredible piece.
mine and yours by @muertawrites - ahhhh this one is so so sweet! dating is so fucking hard, I think we could all use a comforting, reassuring moment with a sweetheart like Eddie, who is especially kind to us in this fic. I love the way he’s written here.
our patron saint of the arts by @storiesbyrhi - I love an artsy, crafty reader! I feel like Eddie would be sooo into someone who’s creatively-minded like him. this is the dream relationship, basically, these two are adorable together! (and Eddie in a dress! 😗)
And this is just a sample of what’s out there! Some of these are fics that I read very early on, even before I started this blog. I was more shy then, too, so I feel like I never showed them the appreciation I should have! You guys are all so talented, these works are very inspiring to me.
To readers: I encourage you to let the writers know how much you enjoy their work! Reblog! Leave a comment, even if it’s just in the tags! Write a reply, or send them a message, even if it’s on anon! I’m trying to get better at doing these things myself, too 💖
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nipuni · 6 months
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OHHHHHHHHH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'LL NEVER BE THE SAME AFTER THIS!!!!!! THIS ENDING?? THIS WHOLE EVERYTHING!!!!! WHERE DO I EVEN START I'M SO STUNNED!!!! WHAT!!!!!
"The end of time" was the most incredible ending I could have asked for!!! We finished watching it all at 3am last night and we spent all of today yelling about it, I can't believe just how good this was!!! I'm so glad we've never watched this show before while this was airing so that we get to watch it all fresh for the first time because we are having the time of our lives now
It was completely devastating and so so inspiring, just exactly how I was hoping for it to be, I already want to rewatch S1 to S4 all over again 😭 the sheer comfort I get from the character of the doctor is insane, I've never rooted for a character so hard and wholeheartedly in my life, he really is the most wonderful being in the universe I'm in tears I'm Wilfred rn what the fuck man I'll never recover from this!!! I feel like a ten year old kid with a new superhero GOD IT WAS ALL SO GOOD I CAN'T ARTICULATE I'd yell about each scene but I'm aware that pretty much everyone has watched this ages ago so you know and I still wouldn't want to spoil anyone that hasn't just in case because going into this unspoiled and knowing nothing about it has been the most satisfying experience ever and I hope more people get to have it too!!! please if you haven't watched this before go do that!! and if you have and it's been a while do it again!!! the acting?? INSANE!! the writing!! incredible!! I have only good things to say!!! I only wish we had 1000 more seasons with RTD and David Tennant I really love this man, I'm so sad to see him go!!! and so happy to get him back for the 60 special!!
When we got to the last episodes of season 4 I was expecting pain and instead I got an unexpected fix-it device that was rather strange but cute so I was somewhat relieved and confused, then the holidays specials were pretty standard and lighthearted AND THEN THE WATERS OF MARS? INSANE EPISODE, I loved it so much, that whole part at the end FANTASTIC they went there and I LOVE them for it!! another favourite episode for sure, and THEN THE END OF TIME?? by this point Nicolas and I were twisted into a single pretzel on the couch bracing ourselves, it went from extremely intense to SO FUNNY to heartbreaking and just...amazing!!! AAAAAA anyway!! I had to get all that out of my system, now onwards to S5!!! I'm curious to meet Matt Smith's doctor 😊
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auras-moonstone · 9 months
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someone requested this but i lost it😫😫 the request asked me to write a story about reader being a streamer and jack and her meeting through one of mason’s streams. i hope you like it! 💖
locked up in your arms — jack champion
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word count: 1,581
pairing: jack champion x streamer!fem!reader
summary: y/n’s crush gets exposed during her stream with mason, but luckily he feels the same.
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Y/N HAD STARTED HER TWITCH CHANNEL PURELY FOR FUN, NEVER EXPECTING SO MUCH PEOPLE TO START FOLLOWING HER. She did pretty much everything—reactions to movies, music, chatting, occasionally gameplays. People were instantly drawn in by her charm, kindness and sense of humor.
And Mason Gooding had been one of them. He absolutely loved her channel, so when he saw Y/N was a huge fan of the Scream movies, he didn’t hesitate to reach out and asked her to do a stream with him. She, of course, said yes. The viewers loved their dynamic, and their shared streams became something they did weekly.
“You have gotten so much better at this game” Mason said as they finished playing Dead By Daylight.
Y/N grimaced “Sure, I still suck. I mean, my gaming experience starts and ends with the Sims”
Mason laughed, and was about to respond when the sound of his phone interrupted him. “Jack Champion just texted”
The girl gulped, hoping that the mic didn’t catch that. To say she had a crush on that actor was an understatement. Her face turned a dark shade of red, and prayed that it wouldn’t be that noticeable through the camera.
“He says, Mason tell the people I say you’re a sussy baka” the streamer read the text, trying not to laugh.
“Did he just say sussy baka?” Y/N pressed her lips together.
“Don’t make fun of my boy!” Mason warned her.
“I’m not! I thought it was ador- hilarious” holy shit she almost said he was adorable.
“And tell Y/N the Sims is a great game, and I bet she builds beautiful houses” Mason continued.
“I do build beautiful houses. Thank you, Jack!” she said, glad the stutter didn’t come into play.
oh god y/n is about to go into cardiac arrest
hey! don’t expose her lmaooo
girl is crushing hard
didn’t we know she had a crush on jack already??? have you seen her scream 6 reaction???
omg yes she totally thirsted over him for two hours straight.
Mason bursted out laughing at the comments. “I need to see your Scream reaction holy shit. Why did no one ever tell me?”
“They’re exaggerating” they weren’t. “And drop it! You’re not seeing the reaction”
“I so am” Mason said. “In fact, why don’t we react to your reaction?”
“Why don’t we end the stream and never talk again?” she frowned, acting annoyed.
“You’re so adorable!” he laughed. Mason actually thought she and Jack would make an excellent couple, and he was so going to make that happen. “Anyways, that was the end of an eventful stream. Now we gotta go, Y/N needs to put ice on her cheeks”
“I hate you” she said as she ended the video call.
Mason texted her a few minutes after the stream ended.
hey ur not mad at me, are u?
no, i’m not. i just am a little bit embarassed
now everyone knows about my crush
did jack say something? pls tell me he was not watching the stream anymore.
i don’t know. he didn’t say anything, so maybe he left before you exposed yourself
very funny
anyways he’s going to find out. people are for sure sending the clips 😫😫
why are you so worried?
it’s not like you’re going to meet him.
no i know
but idk, i don’t want him to think i’m a weirdo
for having a crush??
don’t be silly. he won’t, jack is the sweetest guy on earth.
okay fine
maybe you’re right
i’m overthinking as always :)
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MASON ALMOST LET OUT A SCREAM OF EXCITEMENT WHEN THE TEXT ARRIVED. He had been pretty much hopeless about his plan, so he was caught off guard when Jack told him he was going to LA that weekend. Now, there was one last thing to do.
hey y/n/n
hey mason what’s up?
are you free this saturday??
yeah why?
devyn, jasmine and jenna are dying to meet you, so they told me to invite you :)
we’re doing a picnic!!
yess i’d love to!
GREAT I’M SO EXCITED
why?
BECAUSE😬😬
you’re so weird
thank you
see ya on saturday
Mason couldn’t shake the smile off his face as he opened the group chat he had with Jasmine, Jenna and Devyn.
she’s coming!!!
the ship is about to sail!!! 🚢
she’s going to hate me but it’ll be worthy
i still can’t believe how red she turned during the stream. she’s absolutely adorable
okay but can we talk about how smiley jack was when we showed him the clips???? he’s down bad too
that’s why i’m doing it. i wouldn’t if i weren’t sure they are attracted each other.
i can’t wait till saturday😫 they’re going to be so cute!!!!
he’s going to kill her with adorableness with his dad jokes
he already killed her with the sussy baka thing. i can’t believe he said that. he’s lucky he’s pretty
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Y/N, AT THE SAME TIME MASON WAS TEXTING ON THE GROUP, OPENED THE MESSAGES APP. She had a huge smile on her face as she texted.
he really thinks he’s being a mastermind 😭😭😭 it’s so funny
i know 😭 i bet he’s planning everything on the gc with the girls. he has no idea. i feel powerful😎
you are so cute 😫 i can’t wait to hug tf out of you
cute? so, in your scream reactions you call me hot and say you’d be lucky to have been one of my victims and irl you call me CUTE? 🙄
you’re not ethan landry, jack
he’s top 1 on my love of my life list
what place am i in?
third
THIRD?? who’s second? 🥺
taylor swift
oh yeah. should’ve figured.
well, to make you feel bad, you’re in my top 1.
i don’t feel bad at all, jack
oh… well okay. i am totally fine being in your top 3, tbh. at least i made it.
NOW i feel bad😫
i really want to hug you, like the thought of it brings me butterflies
just a couple of hours left ❤️❤️
we have two entire days alone before we meet with the group
i can’t wait to see your pretty face in person🥹🥹
ughhhhhh
stop being so sweet when you’re not here😫😫
i’ll see you in exactly 8 hours :)
good night gorgeous 💕
night pretty boy 💖
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Y/N STOOD IN FRONT OF THE METAL STAIRCASE, WITH A SIGN THAT SAID LOVE OF MY LIFE #3. She offered Jack to pick him up from the airport, so there she was, waiting anxiously for her boy.
She couldn’t believe it was actually happening. They had been talking for a while now—he sent her a dm only a few days after the stream, and had been talking non-stop ever since. Both of them have been open about their feelings for each other, as they were pretty obvious, and they basically acted like a couple. Even though that had never met in person, until now.
Jack’s heart stopped when he caught sight of the beautiful girl with the sign, which made him laugh a lot. He pushed through the people, muttering quick so sorry’s until he reached her. Y/N was looking up at him attentively, as if trying to take in every detail about him. The sparks in her eyes made his stomach go crazy.
“You’re real” he breathed.
“I mean, there’s this theory that we are actually characters in some big videogam-“
Jack grabbed her by the cheeks to pull her close to him, so their foreheads were touching. His smile could literally light up a whole town “You can tell me all about your interesting theories, which you know I love to hear. But right now I’m deciding if I should kiss you or hug you”
“In that order, please” she said, completely wonderstrucked by his close presence.
And so they kissed. Y/N found out Jack was a slow kisser, which she absolutely enjoyed because she never wanted that magnificent kiss to end. And Jack discovered Y/N was very touchy—her hands wouldn’t stay in just one place, but she explored every inch of visible skin.
“Now I want my hug” she said after a couple of seconds of trying to recover her breath. Jack threw his head back laughing before embracing her in the so awaited hug. “Yup, never leaving these arms” she squished her cheek against his chest.
The grip around her shoulders tightened “Thank god, cause I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re now forever trapped in here”.
“Um, could you please move?” one old woman said.
Y/N sighed as they pulled away “Taylor Swift was right when she said forever is the sweetest con”
“I’m sorry. You two are really adorable but I want to get home already” the woman said.
“No, it’s okay. We’re sorry” Y/N smiled kindly.
“Let us help you with your baggage” Jack offered, taking one of the suitcases while Y/N grabbed one of her bags.
“How long have you two been together?” the woman asked as they walked her to a taxi.
“Oh-uh…” Y/N wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to think they were together even though they never said the word ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’.
“Three months” Jack spoke up. “We live in different states, but we talk everyday. We never made it official, but in case you were wondering, and this is for you too Y/N/N, I feel that we are a couple”
The woman looked at Y/N, waiting for her answer. The girl smiled brightly, feeling the weight of her heart evaporating “I feel that way too, Jack”.
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i-starcreamed · 9 months
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Hey can I get three different scenarios if, Optimus, Mirage and bumblebee from Rotb, had met a tameranean who is like Starfire in a way, and is a princess. How would they react when they meet her and learn how strong and powerful she is, and what would their romantic relationship be like. Also the reader acts like starfire too, but I would find it funny if she kissed the Autobots to learn their language when she too comes to earth cause they were the nearest thing near her. Sorry if this is a lot I just love the idea since she too lives in space, that they may know a little bit about each other. Also I would find it adorable if they had sparklings with her since I head canon tameraneans can practically mate with anything. (I’m gonna scream if you except this, cause I don’t think you will but thank you for at least reading this! 🫶🏾)
i actually thought this idea was super cute, anon. I decided to do long-ish headcanons because I wasn't sure how to fit everything into one scenario for each.
[ tameranean!reader post includes: ROTB Optimus, Mirage, and Bumblebee
OPTIMUS
once he assesses that you're not a threat, I imagine he'd be super curious about your powers and abilities. Once he finds out you're too from space, I feel like he'll be able to confide in you a bit more than he would with humans?? Like, you're an alien like him, possibly stranded on Earth as well
he respects you so much, because wow you're a princess? He admires your bravery, especially if you're willing to help them. Despite being reluctant at first
Just imagined Optimus Prime bowing down to you a little, started going crazy
anyways
The Autobots were the first you came across upon landing on Earth, you didn't speak their language nor did you speak English. You proved you weren't a threat, but they didn't understand you or know your motives yet. You realized you landed on yet another civilization that doesn't speak nor understand Tamaraneans. And so, you did the only thing you could do. Optimus was the closest, so you gave him a simple peck on the mouth. The other autobots around were trying not to giggle at the look on Prime's face. He was shocked, confused, and maybe a bit flustered. You swore he didn't answer for a couple minutes when you greeted everyone.
He's suchhh a big fan of your Tamaranean features, you're so unique and yet so human as well. Again, he admires your bravery and strength and your attitude. Genuinely enjoys your company. If you're somewhere secluded, he'll go on a drive with you maybe flying next to him as you talk :3
I think Prime would be one to want sparklings with his significant other, he could only hope they will live in a world outside of war. He would never want them to experience what he and many others did. Also deep down, the Orion Pax in him that would've never thought about fighting in a war would've wanted to happily settle down somewhere. Knowing that you're a bit stronger/resilient than normal humans (or most types of aliens he knows of) he feels a lot more secure with having sparklings with you. How many? No one will ever know.
MIRAGE
okay so imagine you meet in the middle of a fight accidentally. You've been trying to blend in like a normal citizen of Earth ever since you got here, you were shocked to see that humans were in fact not the only species that lived here. Unfortunately for you, the same city you were staying at was being attacked by giant evil alien robots.
You're in the middle of the street, not really knowing the extent of what these robots can do. One second you see a Porsche, a semi truck, and a camaro speed past you and transform into more alien robots...but this time they're fighting the one destroying the city so they're good you think? The next second, you were too frozen in admiring these aliens when suddenly a car goes flying towards you.
It happens in slow motion, Mirage is the only one who sees it go straight for your face. But he's confident, he knows he can catch it and save you. Except...it slips through his servos. His spark nearly stops. Instead of seeing a poor 'human' go spat on the ground, he can't believe his optics when you reach out and catch the fucking car??
After that whole incident, he's asking you a bunch of questions. You give him a lil kiss so you can answer him in his language, you're slightly surprised when suddenly you know english and cybertronian, whatever that is
Honestly, I could imagine Mirage never letting go of that kiss, like he's going to joke about it for years.
You're a princess? hell yeah, he thinks you're super badass and wants to see you in action tbh. He's still gonna act like a knight in shining armor but he knows you can handle yourself, he wants to impress you fr
Wants you to teach him your language, he will try but it'll sound like gibberish. Either that or he will learn it immediately because uhh cybertronian super advanced robot?
He's definitely an excited father to your sparklings, you will need to make sure he doesn't teach them to be troublemakers because HE WILL raise them into little fuckin risk takers
BUMBLEBEE
Unfortunately he would not be able to learn your language since there are no tameranean radio stations.. but hey you can still kiss him!
once he gets to know you and where you're from, he's a huge fangirl I think
definitely hypes you up and praises you when you chuck a car at a deception or something. Once he knows you're probably as strong as they are, you guys do some cool combos out in the battlefield.
power couple !?!?!
jokingly does a little bow every time he greets you, then crushes you in a hug. Probably plays some cheesy line from some radio station
he lovesss how you're so kind and compassionate to species you don't know and a planet that isn't yours, but also the fact that you're brave in the face of danger. He knows you can defend yourself and still come back to give him a lil kiss afterwards
he asks if you can carry him. you probably lift him up by one hand and he's going crazy that you might drop him.
you will both learn about Earth together, as well as each other's home planets :3
laying out in the middle of nowhere, staring at the stars and reminiscing about your home? of course
he'd be sooo nervous about sparklings, nervous but excited. He'd be the most caring boyfriend and equally as caring father
thinks your sparklings are the cutest ever ever
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astraaa3 · 2 months
Note
How about some headcanons of Velvette x Female or Genderneutral reader who hates confrontation? Is the type that can't send back food when it's wrong. Someone cut in front of them? What are they gonna do? Tell them not to? Yeah, no. God forbid they're being outright spoken down to. Maybe they yell back at someone in an act of defiance as a form of growth but they're in shock immediately after which is so not the right thing to do with the person still in front of them. Velvette would probably dress reader up however she wants to. What happens if reader tries out saying they want to where something they think is pretty or nice? Okay, this got overly lengthy, but you get the idea?
A/N: This one was such a fun writing experience. I literally couldn't decide which way I wanted it to go. Thank you so much for the ask Anon, hope you enjoy it. <33
Feedback is much appreciated and don't forget to ask. (I need something to get the brain juices flowing)
Velvette x Gn!Reader
In which Reader can't bring themselves to say no to people or to stand up for themselves. (aka the Velvette x Pushover!Reader I never knew I needed)
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Initially, Velvette wrote off your compliance with all of her requests as you wanting to please her. And well, she couldn't complain, she liked pushing people around, and her partner was no exception. That said, her sharp tongue was reserved for her poor models. (you got a free pass most of the time since she didn't want to make you cry)
With time, Velvette realized that this was just how you were. She laughed the first time Vox showed her the footage of you helping an assistant carry boxes, only to end up helping with organizing files for one of Vox's assistants. She laughed even harder when she saw you try to get a word in as some wolf sinner cut in front of you in line. And well, it was kinda funny. Until the same shit happened again and again.
Velvette tried talking some sense into you. "Babe, listen. You can't just let any dimwit trample over you." She sighed as you promised to try to stick up for yourself.
Nothing changed after Velvette's 'pep talk'.
Realizing that you were too much of a soft-hearted pathetic idiot to stick up for yourself, Velvette took it upon herself to keep others from pushing you around.
Someone pushed in front of you in the line? Velvette was there telling that cunt exactly why they didn't deserve to even look in your direction.
You were delivered the wrong food order? Velvette would call the restaurant to make sure they knew how utterly useless they were for not even being able to pack a food order.
After laying it on thick whoever wronged you, she would look at you smirking. In turn, you would smile at her happily before kissing her. It turned into a game after some time.
The one time Velvette saw you raise your voice wasn't even to defend yourself. It was to defend her. The moment you calmed down enough to realize what you just said, you were immediately mortified. Burying your face into your hands, you flushed red from embarrassment as Velvette looked at you with wide eyes. Fuck. It was hot seeing you angry…
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Small prompt time~
You and Velvette were walking towards the Coffee Shop right across the street from the V tower. The two of you were holding hands while Velvette was ranting all about how Valentino absolutely destroyed one of her models just before a show when the domestic vibe was ruined by some drunk assholes who came up to them.
"Hey babe, aren't you that cute little overlord with the social media shit? I'll give you something to make a story on Voxstragram with."
As the sinner said this, he made some explicit gestures with his hips. Gagging in disgust Velvette grabbed your hand to walk away from them, not wanting to ruin the cozy coffee date you had planed. However, as you were walking away, all you could hear was the those sinners mocking laughs. You were so angry. You didn't exactly know what made you snap at them. Was it the crass comments regarding your lover? Was it the fact that Velvette refrained from killing them for your sake? Maybe it was both. But before you knew it, you turned around glaring at them before proceeding to curse them into the next afterlife. Velvette looked at you shocked, not expecting you to snap at those no-names. As you calmed down, you looked at Velvette's shocked expression, before burrying your face in your face mumbling something along the lines of: "Let's not talk about this ever again." Velvette pulled your hands from your face, replacing them with hers. As she cradled your face with her hands she smiled at you excited:
"That. Was. Fucking. Awesome. Babe, you were so hot fucking humiliating those pathetic worms."
The first thing Velvette did when they got back to the V tower was spam her groupchat with Valentino and Vox with messages about how cool you were. But you didn't need to know that. After all, she liked taking care of assholes for you. Satan forbid you actually grow a backbone. She dreaded the day you would actually gain the courage to deny her picking your clothes. (as if she would ever let that happen)
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darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 3: Pyre
terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!
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GIF by @hotdcentral
Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)
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Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. You struggle with the passing of your mother.
Hello! My apologies for the wait. My laptop broke, so I had to go get a new one. It took me a bit to set it all up how I like, and then I had a busy time of it at work + a bit of writer's block. I hope the chapter makes up for it! Keep in mind there are some untranslated bits of HV in here, but I'll make a post + link transcribing all that for those who want. Thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for giving this the go-ahead!
TRIGGERS: character death, exploration of child grief, dysfunctional family dynamics.
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It is very quiet now that Mama has died.
Brella is quiet. Septa is quiet. Ana and Peony, the maids who come to make your bed neat again and pick up all the dresses you’ve worn, are quiet. Ser Harrold is quiet—but then, he usually is. None of Papa’s guards seem to want to make a sound now. Neither do Papa’s Councilmen, like Lord Corlys or Lord Lyman, who you sometimes see walking down the halls with very sad looks upon their faces.
You wonder if, when Mama died, she took a part of all these people with her.
She has taken a part of Papa, and of ’Nyra, too. Suppertime is so very quiet that you are afraid to breathe in case everyone can hear it. They both just stare at their plates, eyes puffy and red like yours are when you cry, which means they have been crying, too. They eat their food like someone else is moving their mouths, and when they swallow, it looks like the most painful thing in the whole world.
Papa and ’Nyra haven’t spoken to you since the day of the tourney. You try not to be sad about it, but it’s hard. Now that Mama has gone away, they are your family, and it hurts that your family won’t look at you or say anything to you. It’s almost like they have forgotten all about you.
“They’re grieving,” Alicent tells you, taking your hand in hers as you walk towards the Sept. The stairs are very hard to climb, so she had to help you up, and it was nearly like having Mama again when she pulled you into her arms and held you tight. “Their sorrow has made them blind to all else.”
You don’t really understand what she means. “To me, too?”
“Hm?”
“Their sorrow. It’s made them not see me?”
Alicent stops. Something very soft and sad makes her face droop, and she bends down so that she can look you right in the eyes. “Oh, Princess. They see you. And they love you. But your mother”—she takes a breath that sounds shaky—“she was very important to them. They miss her very much.”
“I miss her, too.” You wonder when Mama will return. How long is ‘never’? No one has ever explained it to you. Hopefully it is soon.
“I know you do.” Alicent stands and grabs onto your hand again, leading you toward the table where so so many candles are.
The room is very hot, all the little fires making you sleepy even though it is only morning time. There are two stools right before the table, and Alicent kneels on one. You try to do the same on the other, but it means you cannot see the candles anymore.
“How about you stand on it instead, Princess?” Alicent asks. She lets you hold onto her shoulder so that you can get up on the stool like she said, which makes it much easier to see. Then, she folds her hands together in front of her chin and bends her head, so you do the same.
It isn’t very interesting to stare at your fingers at first, but after a while, it’s nice. You count all the little folds in your skin—there are a lot—and trace the edges of your thumbnails with your mind over and over. Time goes funny, and you cannot remember why you were ever sad before you came here.
It might be minutes or hours or days before Alicent speaks. “Would you like to light a candle? For your mother?”
“Why?” you ask, frowning. Is candle-lighting how to get Mama to come back? Will she see the light and know it’s me and return with baby Baelon? Is that why so many people pray in the Sept?
Alicent picks up a candle that hasn’t been lit. “To remember her. You light the candle and… she’ll see it.”
“From where?”
“From one of the Seven heavens.”
“Where’s that?”
“I… do not know.” She stares at the candle like she is trying to light it without moving. “Somewhere far away. My mother is there, too.”
“Oh.” She sounds very sad, so you reach out to grab hold of another unlit candle. “Can I light this one? For Mama?”
That makes her smile just a little. “Of course, Princess.”
Alicent takes one of the lit candles and tilts it into yours, making sure not to spill any of the hot wax on you. You hold very still, because fire is dangerous which means you can get hurt, even though you touched it once and it didn’t feel like anything but warm. The little string at the top catches fire, burning orange and gold and swaying gently.
She lights her own, too. “Now, you place it on the altar, like so.” She carefully sets both candles down and closes her eyes for a moment, and you think she must be thinking of her own mama.
You nudge your candle back to where you took it, watching the flame dance about. I lit a candle for you, Mama, so you can see it. Do you? Do you see me?
Where are you, Mama? When are you coming back?
The candle doesn’t answer. It just sits there, the little fire bobbing about and then finally falling still. All you can hear is the sound of your own breathing. When you are done, Alicent helps you step off the stool, and you leave the Sept with the candles still lit behind you.
Just outside, you find Uncle Daemon waiting for you.
While ’Nyra and Papa are grieving and Papa’s Council are planning and everyone else is doing whatever it is they do away from you, Uncle has been making sure that you are ‘well’ by telling you stories and teaching you more High Valyrian and sitting at the table to watch while you and Brella play with your dolls together. He never stays for a long-long time, but it is still very nice.
“Farewell, Princess.” Alicent lets go of your hand and turns to curtsey to Uncle, who bows his head but says nothing, just stares with a not-exactly-kind look on his face. Then, she leaves, her footsteps fading away and then dropping as she goes down the stairs. You listen until the noise disappears entirely.
Uncle’s brow raises. “What were you doing in the Sept with only Hightower’s daughter for company? Where’s your sister?”
He never calls her by her name. You wonder why, sometimes.
“She took me because ’Nyra is napping again from crying so much, and I was by myself. So, we went to the Sept so I could light a candle for Mama,” you say quietly. “So that she’ll see it and come back.”
At that, he softens. He crouches down so you can see his face more clearly. “She’s not coming back, sweetling. You know that, don’t you?”
“Why not?”
“She…” He grunts. “Do you remember the stories about Aegon the Conqueror, and his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Right.” He rises, gripping you below your arms and lifting you high so that he can carry you away from the Sept. It makes him uncomfortable, though you don’t know why. “Tell me what happened to Rhaenys.”
“She tried to—to get Dorne to say that Aegon was their King, so she rode Meraxes to them.” Uncle hums approvingly, so you keep going. Your voice wobbles with each step he takes. “But they were angry at her for burning the grass and the trees and the buildings and the people and the sheep and the horses and th—”
“Yes, yes, she lit Dorne aflame.” Uncle rolls his eyes. He bounces you extra hard in his arms so that it feels like you’re about to fall, and you squeal and wrap your arms tight-tight around his neck so that you don’t. “Leave the boring bits out. Tell me the rest.”
“She—Dorne took a big, big arrow and hit Meraxes in the eye, and Rhaenys and Meraxes fell all the way to the ground from up high and died.”
His lips twist at the way you say the last word. “You’ve been paying attention. Good girl.” You’re out in the courtyard now, away from the Sept. It isn’t any louder out here, which is strange, because it is usually always loud and full of people. “Did Rhaenys ever return to Aegon and Visenya?” he asks, moving towards the doors that lead to Maegor’s Holdfast where your rooms are.
“No…” you say, unsure. You don’t think she did. “Why didn’t she go back?”
Uncle sighs, slowing down so he can look at you properly. “That’s what it means to die, sweetling. Rhaenys didn’t go away. When she hit the ground, her body ceased to function. She stopped seeing, feeling, thinking, moving, breathing. She became… nothing.” Your belly twists. You don’t like what he’s telling you, not one bit. Whatever your face is doing, it makes Uncle keep talking. “It’s like your dolls—you can touch them and see them, can’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“But when you speak to them, do they speak back?”
“No.”
“Do they have beating hearts?”
“No.”
“Do they eat or piss or shit?”
You gasp. “That—that’s naughty, kepus!”
He rolls his eyes again. “No, they don’t. They’re things, not people. And your mother… she’s no longer a person. She’s a body; one we must put to rest today.”
The funeral is soon. Uncle has been reminding you lots and lots, and when you asked, he said a funeral is what people go to so they can say goodbye to the person who has died and put their body back where it is meant to go. And because Mama is a Targaryen like you and Uncle and Papa and ’Nyra, her body has to be put on fire so that she can go back to the wind.
She’s not a person anymore. She’s a nothing. It scares you.
You sniffle. “But… I don’t want her to be gone like Rhaenys did. I want her back.”
“I know.” Uncle hugs you then, pulling you so close that your nose gets stuck in all his hair. When you breathe in, all those hairs go up inside your nostrils and make them itch. You hope he never lets go. “I know.”
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Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the Hill, then stand quiet. Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the Hill, then stand quiet. Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the Hill, then stand quiet.
You keep saying it over and over in your head, just like Uncle had said. He is the only one who would tell you what is going to happen at the funeral, because he knows that you like to know things even when you’re afraid of them. It makes you feel better, makes you feel a little less scared.
Uncle never told you how many people would be here, though.
Everyone comes to watch you and ’Nyra and Papa and Uncle walk through the Keep to the carriage—the maesters, the maids, the pageboys, the lords and ladies that like to stay in the city—but they stay silent as you pass. You wonder if pressing yourself against the wall and thinking really hard about being made of stone will turn you invisible, which is when you can’t be seen. You wish you could. There are too many gazes on you, and it makes all the hairs on your arms and legs and neck stand up. Uncle has to press you forward when you slow down to look for an escape.
You sit in the carriage beside ’Nyra while Papa and Uncle sit at the front, because Papa is the King and Uncle is his heir. She is very pale, almost blending with her hair except for her red eyes. You slip your hand into hers and she squeezes hard, but you try not to show her that it hurts. She looks less sad holding onto you, so you don’t mind at all that her fingers pinch.
It is the first time in a long time that you have been able to see any of the people outside the walls of the Keep. Before Mama died—before Mama’s belly got too big and she had to stay in bed—she used to take you just beyond the gates to where the really poor commonfolk would line up every sennight on the day of rest to get their alms, which Mama says is an important part of being good. She would say that you have to give coin and food and whatever else the people might need so that they are well and happy, because that means they will support the King’s reign and be peaceful. You don’t know what that means, but Mama is always right.
You miss it—giving people things, letting them pat your cheeks or your hair and calling you the People’s Princess. Because Mama is Queen and giving alms is what the Queen is meant to do, no one else could take you when she stopped going out of her chambers. And, when you went with her, the people were always very loud and cheerful and smiling, and they thanked you with tears in their eyes when Mama let you give them the pouches of coin yourself.
As the carriage takes you through the city today, the commonfolk are quiet.
None of them are smiling, or happy. They watch on as the horses take you through the streets, and some of them even cry when they see the long box that the cart ahead of you is carrying. It is the biggest, nicest box you’ve ever seen, made with dark wood and borders that look like real gold, glinting in the sun. Uncle told you that the box has the bodies inside it, the ones of Mama and baby Baelon.
You think that the people miss Mama very much. Maybe they miss her almost as much as you do—but not the same amount. You think you miss Mama most of all, even more than Papa or ’Nyra, because at least they have Lord Otto or Lord Lyman or Lord Corlys or Alicent or Betha Strong or Ser Harrold to keep them company. All you have is Mama and sometimes Uncle, and now Mama is gone.
After a while, the carriage starts to take you up and up, which means that you are almost at the point where you will need to stop and get out and walk the rest of the way. This is because the horses cannot pull so much weight up Visenya’s Hill. Uncle said it would be hard for you to walk, being so small when the hill is so large, but that you have to so that everyone can see how brave you are. “Targaryens don’t show weakness,” he says.
He is right—the walk is hard. At first, when you get out and take ’Nyra’s hand and start to follow Papa up the hill, it isn’t so bad. But then, it gets steeper and steeper, almost so steep that you feel like you need to use your hands to climb the rest of the way. Your legs burn so much that you want to cry, but you don’t. Uncle said you cannot be carried, either, so you don’t ask ’Nyra to pick you up. You must be brave. You must be brave.
By the time you reach the top, the men who were made to carry the box have opened it up and taken out the things inside. There are two funny-shaped objects covered in brown cloth lying in the middle of the pyre that has been built for the funeral—one is big, bigger than you, while the other is very small. They are the bodies of Mama and Baelon, and you have to hold on tight to the memory of Uncle’s words to keep from running over and trying to shake them awake.
“What remains of them will be set upon the pyre, yes—but remember, they’re not people. They’re just skin and bone and meat now. You must let them burn as all Targaryens burn.”
’Nyra’s hand feels like ice around yours as a man in a strange dress with a hood comes forward, past all the lords and ladies and past Uncle and Papa to stand right in front of the pyre. Two other men wearing dresses that look almost the same go with him, but stay one step behind.
“Tubī Arryno Lentro Dārie Aemme se Targārio Lentro Dārilaros Baelon perzyrty mōrqittot…” he says. You don’t know all the words, but you think he must be talking about the way Mama is a queen and baby Baelon is a prince, which seems silly to mention now that they’re not real anymore. “Sȳndor zijosy rēbarose, Dāria Aemma eglio ilvot trēso Dārilaros Baelon zȳhos gūros se tegot…”
Syrax is standing on the very top of the hill above everyone else. Because it would be very rude to look around at the others—Papa’s Councilmen and Alicent and the men who live on Dragonstone, your family’s special home, and Princess Rhaenys too, who is very scary, as well as so so many people you don’t know at all—you keep your eyes fixed on the dragon, admiring how pretty she looks in the sun. Usually, she makes lots of noise and is very mischievous, which is another word for naughty, but today she is quiet like all the rest. You wonder how she knows about funerals when she cannot speak in Valyrian or the Common Tongue or any other words that people can understand.
“Targārio ānogro rȳ ōrbrar ojāris, sētenondi hen ībī iemnȳ nȳmas,” the man says. His dress has what looks like an eye sewn on the chest, which seems an odd thing to want to wear. No one else in the Keep wears eyes.
The two men behind him step up with jugs in their hands, and they walk around the pyre pouring what is in the jugs over the cloth. It turns the brown even darker brown. After they bow, they move back, and no one speaks for a while.
Finally, the man with the eye on his chest says one last thing. “Hen perzȳ sīdas. Va perzȳ āmāzissi. Hen prānot istas, vapār drējī mōrī iksis.”
Something about fire, you think. Maybe he is saying your House words in High Valyrian. Fire and blood.
It is silent then, nothing but the sound of the wind whistling filling your ears. Everyone is still, from the lady with the kind eyes that remind you of your own on the other side of the pyre to the funny men to the side. No one speaks. You wonder what is supposed to happen now.
Uncle puts his hand on your shoulder, leaning in to whisper in ’Nyra’s ear. “They’re waiting for you.”
At first, you think she hasn’t heard him—she doesn’t move or do anything at all, just keeps staring where Mama and baby Baelon are. You nearly jump when her fingers tighten on yours. “Ñurho valonqro paghyro jēdunna, lo tolijī kepa ñuha kirimvī rhēdos pendan.”
My brother lived, father found happy. It makes no sense, but Mama told you once that it is rude to listen to other people’s conversations, so you try not to listen too hard.
Uncle speaks too low for you to hear him, to which ’Nyra replies with something you do understand. “Trēsy dōrī kesan.” I will never be a son.
She sounds very, very sad. Poor ’Nyra, you think. I will never be a son, either. I’m just a daughter, a girl, like you. Maybe Papa would be happier if ’Nyra or you had died instead of Baelon, if your body was wrapped in the brown cloth on the pyre and you weren’t real anymore.
’Nyra lets go of you. She looks to Papa, but all he is doing is staring at the pyre where Mama and Baelon lie. Her face is very red, which means she has been crying. When she steps forward, Uncle takes your hand and pulls you back to stop you following her. He is warm, so you try to hug onto his leg in a way that doesn’t make you weak like he told you not to be.
Syrax makes her chirping noise, all of a sudden paying attention to what her rider is doing. ’Nyra tries to speak, but it doesn’t come out. “Dr…”
She looks at Papa again, so you do too. He still hasn’t looked away from the pyre. You wonder if he knows you and ’Nyra and Uncle are even here, because he hasn’t so much as glanced at you since the night he came to your rooms and told you that Mama and Baelon had died. Not once.
“Drakarys.”
Syrax rumbles, and then begins to climb down toward all the people. For a moment, you’re worried she might try to eat someone, but the Dragonkeepers are here with their spears to stop anything bad happening. She opens her mouth, and fire comes bursting out.
The pyre lights up, and Mama and Baelon disappear in bright-white-orange.
“Mama?” you whisper, eyes stinging and throat feeling strange, like you want to be sick but not. “Mama?”
The only thing that you can hear is the sound of burning.
Papa bends his head, and ’Nyra looks away. You think that you may be the only one who keeps watching the fire as it takes your Mama away from you forever.
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(When you are grown, you will not remember this day. You will not remember the ache in your bones or the wind in your hair. You will not remember the faces of the commonfolk you passed along the way, or the sorrow in Rhaenyra’s voice when she called down dragonfire upon the hill. You will not remember the cold that leached into your blood as you stood beside what was left of your family, a slow freezing that will take its toll over the days and moons and years of your existence.
Even so, the sight of the bodies on the pyre and the smell of burning flesh will remain etched into the very fabric of your person forevermore.
At night, you will sometimes feel as though ash clings to your tongue, the taste of rot lingering in your mouth. In dreams, you will see brown cloth and a faceless babe wiggling beneath wrappings as it burns to nothing. You will wake in a panic, near to choking on the air you cannot seem to make yourself breathe, looking about wildly in search of the horrors that had plagued your slumbering thoughts. Melancholy will follow you, lurking just beyond reach, haunting, nameless.
But you will not remember this day.)
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After the funeral, Uncle Daemon leaves.
You don’t know why, because he didn’t say goodbye and no one will tell you anything. When you ask ’Nyra, she tells you she doesn’t “want to talk about him” and walks away with Alicent. You ask Brella, but she just says, “Not right now, Princess.”
You don’t ask Papa, because he is still grieving for Mama and baby Baelon. For you, that means he doesn’t want to tell you about anything at all. But whenever someone says Uncle’s name in front of him, he gets very, very angry and storms off with his boots making a lot of noise on the ground, so Uncle must have done something very naughty.
A big ceremony is happening today, though, which makes it harder to be sad that Uncle isn’t here. ’Nyra told you that Papa has decided to make her the heir, even though Uncle is supposed to be. Maybe that is why he left. It has been very busy in the Keep because everyone came for Mama and Baelon’s funeral, but they are being made to stay for the ceremony so that they can swear fealty to Papa and ’Nyra. And, for the first time ever, you have a special role, too.
“… promise to be—to be faith–faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhae-nyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall def—defend them against all e-ne-mies in good faith and without de-ceit. I sw–swear this by the Old Gods and the New.”
Alicent claps, smiling. “Well done, Princess! Much better!”
’Nyra comes out from behind her screen wearing a pretty red dress, like the colour of the dragon with three heads on your House sigil. “Just try not to stutter so much, little sister.”
“Trying,” you say grumpily—the words are hard—but ’Nyra isn’t paying attention. Instead, she is looking into the mirror as Alicent helps her with the laces at the back, staring at herself in a way that doesn’t look very happy.
Alicent stops and hugs her. “You will be fine. This is what you were born for.”
“I wasn’t, though,” ’Nyra says, frowning. “Was I?”
They both go quiet, so you say, “You look very nice today.”
That makes ’Nyra smile, finally. “Thank you.”
It doesn’t take long for Alicent to finish lacing up her dress and helping her with her gold cape and jewels. When she is done, ’Nyra leaves the room and Alicent moves toward you so she can take your hand. “Come, Princess,” she says. “Let us walk to the Great Hall together.”
When you get there, the room is full of people. You wonder if every single lord and lady in the whole of Papa’s kingdom is here, all together in this one place. It is only because you are a princess that you don’t have to stand with all of them, and Alicent leads you over to Ser Harrold so that you can stay next to him by the Iron Throne. There is even a little chair just for you there, in case your legs get tired.
“Princess,” Ser Harrold says. His voice is funny, like a growl, and it makes you giggle every time you hear it. And, every time you giggle, he smiles, which makes all the wrinkles on his face deeper, which is even funnier. He does it again now.
A big bang at the door has everyone go very quiet.
“Presenting—Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen!”
No one speaks when ’Nyra comes through the doors all by herself, chin lifted straight up and walking down the middle of the two groups of people. Everyone stares at her, even Papa, and you think that it’s only right that they do because she looks so so pretty today. She curtseys to Papa at the bottom of the Throne, and then turns to face the people.
Without a word, Lord Corlys comes forward and kneels. “I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named…”
You decide to sit in the chair while you wait. All the lords here have to say the same words you do when they pledge fealty, but you are going last because you’re the most important person to say it, which is what Alicent told you.
Lots of men and some ladies come up to the front to kneel and say the words to ’Nyra while Papa watches. It takes a long time, so you spend it looking around at all the different faces and dresses and coats that you can see. There are all sorts of things sewn onto the chests of people’s robes—you see a black stag on a yellow coat, a yellow lion on a red one, a grey wolf on a white one, a flower, a bird, even some boring ones like plain stripes or dots. Some of the ladies are wearing dresses that look very strange—the neck comes far far down so you can almost see some parts that are not proper for a lady to show. When those ones say the words, most of them are actually saying them while looking at Papa instead of ’Nyra, which is very rude because today is all about ’Nyra and not Papa. No one tries to make them stop, though, so maybe only you notice it.
When it is your turn, Ser Harrold taps you on the shoulder. All of a sudden, you feel very scared. So many people are looking at you now, and it makes you feel small and weak like you’re going to be smacked if you do anything.
But you must be brave. If Uncle were here, you’d want him to be proud of you.
You kneel in front of ’Nyra a little closer than everyone else did, but you think that no one will mind very much because you are her sister. Besides, your legs are feeling very shaky, and you might fall over if you have to go any further.
For a moment, the words won’t come out and you panic, but ’Nyra smiles. It is the only smile she has shown the whole time, and it’s just for you.
You find the words.
“I promise to be faith-ful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all e-ne-mies in good faith and without… deceit. I swear this by the Old Gods and the New.”
You rise up, feeling like water is rushing in your ears, almost like it does whenever you have to take a bath. A sound like a heartbeat is all you can hear as you walk back to your spot, but you don’t sit down. ’Nyra said that you have to stay standing for the final part, the words that Papa has to say.
Your sister turns around to face the Iron Throne and bends her head to Papa. He says nothing.
Then, Papa stands, his sword Blackfyre in his hand and pointing down into the ground. “I, Viserys Targaryen, First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm”—so many titles go after his name, you think, glad that you only have ‘the People’s Princess’ after yours—“do hereby name Rhaenyra Targaryen Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.”
Everyone bows their heads, so you do, too. When ’Nyra turns around, all the lords and ladies and knights and guards clap.
Beyond the noise in the hall, you think you can hear a dragon roar.
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aikatoru · 3 months
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hi bby !!! wanted to request if u could write smth angsty where reader has a bad experience with relationships and geto or nanami (or any jjk character u prefer !!) helps experience what love is again (it sounds a lil corny im sorry 🥲 but the plot is based of a poem i made jajejajww)
thank you bby and have a nice dayy !!! 💛🩷
Someone You Love Note: (Hope you like it Riri!!)
Nanami x female reader angst
Word count: 1.5K words.
Warnings: Angst, cheating, kissing, making love, unprotected sex, pulling out, aftercare.
Summary:
When you found out your boyfriend cheated on you, you swore to never love again but fate had other plans when they intertwined your path with Nanami’s.
(Not proofread so please be kind)
Tagging: @planetoshun
Dividers are by myself
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Love has always been such a funny little thing. The very word fascinates you. It’s just a four letter word and yet it carries so much weight. It can make a heart flutter, butterflies appear in your stomach and a smile form on your lips, as you hear your boyfriend told you that he loved you for the very first time.
It made you dizzy and filled with tremendous joy and in your daze, you pulled him in for a kiss. In that moment that was love, cause that was all you knew.
You never once thought that someone could just throw “I love yous” so easily, never once doubted him. In your naivety, you believed him as he held your hand and told you that you were the most beautiful woman in the world, you believed him when he told you that you’re special.
You let him make love to you, cause you were in love. He told you that you’re the best he’s ever had and you believed him. You let your guard down because you believed that you could trust him.
He was your everything. He made you feel safe and loved, he made you feel okay to be emotionally dependent on him. He was your best friend, until he started getting distant.
He stopped answering your texts as often and miss your calls a few times. Started coming by in the dead of the night, always wanting one thing, sex. And you would always give in, because you loved him and you thought he loved you.
It was only when he completely ghosted you, ignoring all your texts and calls, never once coming to see you, that you started to doubt. And yet, you held hope that he still loved you, so you went looking for him.
Hope came crashing down like a ton of bricks as you watch your boyfriend smiling and talking with another woman, reciting the same words he had once said to you on your dates, telling her the same “I love yous” you’ve always loved hearing.
Tears quickly formed and flowed down uncontrollably and you left, afraid of getting spotted, afraid of what he might think if he were to see you like this, because even after all that, you still care what he thought.
Yes, Love was a funny little word. And at that point you were done with it.
No longer will you love again, you swore to yourself.
But fate had other plans when they intertwined your path with Nanami’s.
He was overworked and sleep deprived. You had met him in the bar where you worked, nursing a glass of beer one night. He had just been staring at his glass the entire time and so you felt the urge to ask him if he was alright.
He snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat as he nodded and told you that he was fine, grabbing his glass and taking a large swig.
He ordered two more beers and a couple of shots. By the time he was done, he was stumbling all over himself, struggling to stand even. You managed to catch him just before he falls over. You tried asking him where he’s staying but he couldn’t form a coherent answer, your boss told you to just leave him on the bench outside but you refused and dragged him back to your apartment.
Nanami wakes up with a raging hangover the next day, his head was pounding and he looks around not recognizing where he was, slowly getting up to look around, only to find you in nothing but an oversized t-shirt…if you were wearing shorts it did little to cover your exposed thighs from his wandering eyes.
Your back was facing him as you were cooking in your small kitchen. He cleared his throat to make his presence known and you jumped, a little startled from it. Turning to face him, you gave him a small smile telling him that breakfast was almost ready and to take a seat at the table.
Fascinated by the unknown, he decided to not question it and just do as you said.
After a while he was greeted with a plate of pancakes and a glass of warm milk as you took a seat in front of him. You pass him an aspirin and he said a simple thank you before downing everything, he was hungry, he hadn’t eaten anything since last night.
You watched him eat in fascination. Taking small bites of your own plate, you didn’t quite realize just how good looking he was, you didn’t get a very good look last night.
When he was finished eating, you giggled as you told him that he had some syrup on the side of his mouth. He tried wiping it off but didn’t get it so you offered to help, leaning over the table, reaching out your hand to gently wipe at his mouth, but you lingered there, hand still resting on his face, eyes meeting his, searching, for something you’re not quite sure until finally someone leans in and your lips meet in a tender kiss.
And there it was again, the butterflies. That damn awful feeling again. It was addictive and that was how you find yourself spread out on the table getting fucked by the stranger you had just met last night. Dirty plates crashed on the floor as you continued your sexcapade.
You gasped as his cock pounded into you, scratching up his back, you never had someone as big as him before and the stretch was absolutely delicious.
He couldn’t help but rip your shirt to shreds desperate to see more of your skin, kissing every single inch of your expose flesh.
It was all so good, you were so good and he wanted more, he wanted you. Your tight wet pussy was so inviting as it squeezes around his thick girth.
His hips meeting yours in a sinful manner, his tip bruising your cervix with every thrust, causing you to squirm and moan in his hold.
But the lewd sounds of your increasing slick was a dead indicator that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.
You couldn’t help but scream as you hit your climax, walls squeezing, creaming all over his cock. Nanami chokes, quickly pulling out to spray all over your stomach.
Pumping his cock a few more times to coat your pussy in his cum.
After the high wears off, Nanami was the first to get up and head to the bathroom, coming back with a wet towel to clean you up. And after that he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, lying you down on your bed, getting you under the covers and spooning you.
It was funny, it was strange. You had just met this person and already you felt like he has done so much more for you, than your ex boyfriend ever has. Or probably you were just not used to aftercare.
But being in Nanami’s arms made you feel safe and you find yourself falling asleep sooner than you’d expected.
And that was how your relationship started, you found out that his name was Nanami Kento and that he was a salaryman with crazy work hours and a measly pay, when you had questioned why he continued working there, he kept quiet about it and you didn’t want to push him. You were not one to talk after all, working as a mere waitress in a bar. It wasn’t exactly first class either.
Since you both weren’t making much money, you couldn’t afford to go on much extravagant dates but what you both lack in money was more than made up for in sex.
You literally spend almost every single night fucking each other like rabbits, never getting enough of each other. How could you when Nanami Kento was a fucking menace. Always acting so gentle and sweet but rutting into you so aggressively leaving bruises in his wake.
You started spending more and more time together and on one lazy Sunday afternoon, while you were lying in bed and Nanami was stroking your hair, you finally confessed, telling him that you love him. And you didn’t miss the way he paused in  his movements and sighs before giving you a smile, asking you if you were hungry, diverting the conversation.
Maybe you should have taken that as a warning sign, maybe you should have seen it for what it was, but you were so blinded, so wanting to be loved that you overlooked it all.
And maybe that’s why one day, he stops contacting you altogether. No calls, no texts and no more coming over.
At first you thought he was just busy, maybe work just got way too much for him so you decided to visit him at his workplace, only to find out that he’s quit his job and no one knows where he went.
It was as if he was a ghost, there was no trace of him except for the scent he left on your sheets. And as you sobbed on your bed, wrapping yourself up in the blankets that smelled so much like him, trying to remember what it was like to have him hold you…you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about you too even for just a second…
…left to nurse your broken heart once again, you were just getting used to being someone he loves.
The End
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© Aikatoru - I do not give permission to plagiarize, translate or repost any of my works.
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