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#look its me getting wrecked all over again
nivisdreaming · 8 months
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Kinktober Day 1: Size - Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
WC: 1.1k
CW: Size play, predator/prey dynamics, established relationship, piv penetration, no protection, creampie, teasing, praise, sub!reader, dom!miguel, subspace implied, reader gets fucked so good she passes out, aftercare is included
Notes: first time writing for miguel? pog? also welcome to kinktober everyone its gonna get freaky >:)
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Miguel is constantly pinning you to things. He’s not even doing it on purpose necessarily, he’s just so big.
It’s not his fault that he’ll reach for something over your head, or try to scooch behind you in the kitchen or hallway, and all of a sudden you’re pushed against the nearest surface being towered over by a 6’9 spider hybrid.
What is his fault is how he abuses it once he realizes how flustered it makes it. He’s always been very perceptive when it came to you. He knows how your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, how your breath hitches, and your thighs squeeze together in need, right as you look upward to view him caging you in. It always gives a sickening ego boost. You’re just so small compared to him. Breakable. Fragile. Delicate. Delicious.
He starts subtlety. Sneaking behind you when you’re making morning coffee, hovering behind when you work at your desk, and of course, getting you down on your knees for him whenever possible. It doesn’t take long to escalate however, coming to a head one night before he is set to attend a Spider Society gala with you as his plus one.
You slide the dress up your body carefully, allowing the snug material to cling tight around your breasts in its strapless style. You straighten it out and peered over your shoulder to call, “Miggy? Can you come zip me up please?”
You adjust your hair and makeup in the mirror as you listen to his lumbering footsteps, smiling when he appears behind you, his eyes tracing over your curves in the reflection. He takes a step closer, and the way his shoulders dwarf yours causes your breath to hitch. He slides a hand up your side and another comes to rest on the back of your neck. You open your mouth to make the request again, but the air is knocked out of you as he pushes forwards, pinning you firmly to the floor-length mirror without looking away from his scanning of your body.
“Sweet, tiny little thing. You’re so easy to push around, aren’t you, mi princesa?” He pushes his hips forward to rut against your ass, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head from the combo of his growling tone and his hot erection against you. He leans down to nip at your earlobe before muttering, “I know you love how much bigger than you I am. Does it make you feel all funny? To know how I could wreck you, how I could turn you into my cowering prey, stuck underneath me? It makes your brain all fuzzy. And it makes your cunt dripping wet.” He uses the hand on your side to tug up the dress, exposing your bare ass. He scoffs at the lewdity and gives one of the round globes a spank, forcing a whimper from you.
You watch him in the mirror as he blocks you in on all sides while running a finger down to your folds, teasingly sliding it against your entrance before bringing it to his month to suck off the slick. He hums in approval and moves his arms to sit on either side of your head, leaving you boxed in but free to move against him.
“Spin around. I wanna look you in the eyes while I stretch your tight pussy to it’s breaking point, and if I see you look away I will make sure neither of us sees this event tonight.”
You gulp and slowly twirl around, having to crane your neck to meet his eyes even as he leers down at you. He places a hand over yours and coaxes it to the front of his crotch, using you to squeeze at his bulge before instructing you to undo the zipper and pull him out. You obey without hesitation, allowing him to tug down the top of your dress and reveal your tits as you do. His cock springs eagerly from its confines, precum already leaking from the tip that has flushed a deep purple.
Instinctively you try to drop down to your knees, your clouded headspace demanding that you needed to gag around him as soon as possible, but he manhandles you back up and off the ground with your wrists above your head and legs wrapped around his slutty waist. The rough force has you moaning softly, eyes already glazed over despite the lack of direct stimulation. It makes him chuckle darkly.
He lines his tip up with your entrance and gives no warning before sliding in with a single thrust. The slick dripping down your thighs is plenty of lube as he begins an earth-shattering pace, hips slamming into yours and tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. He leans down and vigorously sucks and bites around your breasts, littering them with hickeys while you cry on his cock, sobbing hysterically from pleasure.
He pulls away from his marking to take in your appearance, at the fat globs of tears gathering on your cheeks make his hips stutter and his abs tense. “God, princesa, feels so good to corrupt you like this,” he switches his grip from your hip to your tummy so he can thumb at your clit, “So ruined for me. Molded this tiny cunt to my dick, so it’s perfect just for me.” You whimper at the praise, jaw dropping open and tongue lolling out as he slides against the spongey spot inside you and rubs fast circles around your bundle of nerves.
“That’s it, my good little girl. So delicate, just gotta take care of you by breaking that poor little brain every once and awhile. Go ahead sweet thing, cum on me, show me how good little prey thank the predators.” His words send you spinning into the abyss, everything in your body pulling taunt and then snapping back as your vision goes from white to black and suddenly you’re so light and floaty that you can’t feel the way you soak Miguel’s cock, nor the way he cums deep inside you as your walls milk him dry. You don’t feel him carry you to the bed, or feel him drag the damp cloth between your legs. You don’t feel how he kisses both your cheeks in hopes of getting your eyes to flutter open, to no avail.
What you do feel is when he pulls your trembling body against his broad chest, rubbing up and down on your arms softly and whispering to you. “Mi amor, you gotta come back to me now. Open up those eyes for me. You did so good for me baby, surprised you made it as long as you did without passing out on my dick. C’mon, wakey wakey corazón.” His words are encouragement enough to float back downwards, settling into his touch until you have enough strength to pull your eyelids open and peer up at him with large doe-eyes. “Aw, welcome back little girl. Te amo.”
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rninies · 3 months
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✮ tales of the heart
౨ৎ gojo satoru x reader. fluff, fem!reader, gojo being whipped for you lol — wc: 508
notes. uni is starting today so it'll take a while for new fics to come out </3
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“babe?” satoru calls out from the other side of the door. “are you ready? we’re going to be late for our reservation. you know how hard it is to get a spot in this restaurant.”
“just a minute, toru!” you exclaim, trying to adjust your necklace but it’s difficult. “actually, can you come in and help me? i can’t put this necklace on.”
“oh, of course.” satoru opens the door and is immediately stunned by how gorgeous you look in your pretty white dress. he does not move an inch, quietly admiring you. “you-”
“toru, stop standing there and help me!” you giggled, finding it funny how satoru was standing near the door, mouth gaping. “you can admire me after you help me put on this necklace, yeah?” you dangle the necklace in front of you and satoru walks over, grabbing the necklace from your hands. “just hook it on the last opening you see.”
satoru hums. when he finishes helping you put the necklace on, he turns you around, squishing your face. “stop being so pretty, it hurts.” your eyebrows furrowed. “you’re too pretty you know that right?”
“shtop, you’re going to wreck my makeup!” you complain, prying his hands off of your face. “ah- you ruined my lipstick!” you pout, grabbing your lipstick from the vanity, and before you can reapply it, satoru grabs it from your hands. “hey!”
“you look beautiful, my love.” satoru whispers ever so softly. “the most beautiful woman in the world.” he gently kisses you, a hand on your hips. your hands find their way to his hair. when he pulls away, both of you are breathless, eventually laughing at how messy the both of you are from the kiss. “we have to get ready all over again.”
“mm, not really.” you gently straighten his suit and hair, returning it to its original state. “there. you look perfect.”
satoru looks at himself in the mirror and then back at your messy lipstick. he grabs a makeup remover, gently removing the mess from the corners of your lips. he then grabs your lipstick, reapplying it for you. “and you look perfect as well.” he smiles and looks at his watch. “oh my god- hurry! we have to leave now!”
satoru grabs your wrist and pulls you out the door, to which you manage to grab your purse in time. “toru-! slow down! my heels!”
“can’t! we’re going to be late, princess!” satoru exclaims, opening the car door for you. he rushes back into the house, grabbing your heels. he starts the car, handing the heels over to you. “here.”
“thank you.” you thanked him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, to which he freezes in his place. “let’s go! we’re going to be late.”
“ah-” satoru snaps out of his daze and quickly starts up the car. “we’re going to have the best dinner ever. i have lots of things planned for tonight.”
“really?” you asked as you buckled your seatbelt. “i’m excited.”
“you better be.” satoru winks at you.
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bandgie · 5 months
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Reactions To You Pissing During Sex
OT8!SKZ x fem!reader
a/n: this ask got me thinking tbh I can't stop myself.
warnings: MDNI 18+, pissing obvi, crying, some degrading
BANGCHAN! - truthfully he's just too good at fucking you. knows where all your good spots are and hits them with precision. he's gripping you by the waist and bringing you down on his cock. breasts bouncing and your hands clutching onto his wrists. - that warm, beautiful feeling builds, but it feels too intense, a little too familiar in your bladder. panic hits you but it's so hard to talk when all you can is moan and squeal. all you do is shake your head back and forth as a signal, but channie is so used to you doing that when he's in your pussy just right that he pays no mind to it - when you pee, he thinks you're squirting at first. then he sees the consistency, the color, the everything. he pulls out real quick, thinking he's hurt you or its uncomfortable for you. which in fact, is completely wrong! it feels so good to pee mid orgasm, overwhelming actually - the realization gets to you that you literally pissed on your lover, and with the high emotions, you can't stop yourself from crying. soft sobs and apologies tumble from your swollen lips, which makes Chan panic. he's soothing you immediately, telling you it's okay and that it's not a big deal. your tears nearly make him cry, he's such a softie!
"No baby don't cry! It's okay, I promise it's okay, im not mad! We can always take a shower yeah?"
MINHO - has you doggy style, hand reaching around to rub on your clit. his chest is completely on your back, the pressure of everything just feels so good. you're able to warn him, telling Minho that you think you're gonna piss. - thinks you're joking, laughs and slaps your puffy pussy. you keep repeating yourself over and over until it finally happens. hot liquid splashing on his fingers. - he flips you over immediately, looking at your hazy eyes and twitching limbs. you're still peeing as your lay flat on your back, and he's looking at you slightly aroused and slightly shocked -minho is very observant, and he watches your expressions to judge whether or not you're able to continue. you have such a fucked out face, your teeth biting on your lower lips as you look up at him shyly and embarrassed. - he laughs breathlessly, surprised by yours and his excitement about the whole thing. thrusts his cock in you a few times to see how you react. your legs immediately wrap around your waist to bring him closer, and your arch your back for him to hit your favorite spot.
"pissing yourself? how old are you again?"
CHANGBIN - oh he doesn't even notice. all he knows is that your pussy is his favorite and he's drowning in it. when he feels that warm splash on his tummy, he pays no mind to it. just adds to the wetness between your thighs - you're repeating his name over and over, but changbin's sooooo lost he just repeats yours the same way. - it's not until you have to reach up and grip his stomach, pulling to get his attention. thheennn he opens his eyes, and registers your wrecked state. soaked and writhing in pleasure. changbin coos and rubs your thighs, gripping the plushness. - he's so stuck on his headspace, that just mindlessly plays with all your slick on your clit and his stomach. changbin didn't hear you say any safe word, so he takes the green light to keep going. doesn't care if you pee more or not. he just adores those pretty little sounds you make. it's not until you're both laying on the bed, coming down from your highs and back down to earth that he finally realizes you wet yourself
"you peed!?! did you like it? I liked it, can you do that again next time?"
HYUNJIN - he loves everything about you, worships you even. you pee during sex? okay and? is he supposed to care? - ofc he would stop if it bothers you that much, but it's perfectly safe to say he doesn't find it gross in the slightest. it just means he's making you feel so good that you couldn't tell the difference. and he basks in the warmth of your piss, he weirdly finds it intimate - makes you feel better with plush kisses and hushed whispers. telling you that it feels nice and he loves all of you. makes you gush with cum this time, ugh he's such a sweetheart - I feel like he would get cocky about it too during sex. like wow he's that good? he lasts extra long when you pee, just watching your cunt flood with piss onto his stomach is a beautiful sight - kinda opens a door for him. doesn't take long before he's asking to pee on you. both of you are covered in absolute filth at the end, and a shower is much needed
"oh you're such a pretty angel for me. just got a little excited huh?"
HAN - hot. like Hyunjin, hannie just loves you down to the atoms. but peeing? oh he's in love - riding him while his hands play with your tits. your hands are splayed over his tiny waist when you feel the impending orgasm, with a little something else. you don't tell him though, you have a feeling he'd rather find it as a pleasant surprise - imagine his needy expression when he sees you pee all over his stomach. he moans at the sight and bucks his hips up into you. he can feel the liquid travel down his stomach onto the sheets, filling his bellybutton - oh he's beggingggg. for cum? for more piss? for you? who knows. but he's just saying please please please with little uh uh uh's and he's squeezing your breasts soooo hard, he's gonna leave little finger marks - cums real quick after that, but you just keep riding him. there's little splash noises and your knees are soaked from the piss stained covers, but he just looks so fucked out and in pure bliss
"Baby, baby oh fuck yes. More! Make me dirty."
FELIX - doesn't say anything about it, just keeps fucking you. he's not sure if it would embarrass you or anything, so he just waits for you to say something first - but he does really like how it looks. your moans are higher and you can't stop shaking. he swears your pussy is softer, wetter. he gets more vocal too, pushing your thighs up to your chest to fully expose your wet clit to him - ugh watching it squirt out of you onto his pelvis? oh he likes that a lot. rubs your sensitive nub to try and squeeze more out of you. smiles mischievously when you squeal and thrash, as if in warning - felix didn't know he could be this nasty, he enjoys that you're marking your territory in the most animalistically way possible. makes his eyes roll back, deep moans when he finishes inside you
"Fuck, you're so wet. Wanna taste you so bad."
SEUNGMIN - oh he's mean. asshole. you're squirming away from his brutal thrusts, pleading with him. oh but he wants you to. wants to see how mortified you get when you piss all over yourself. gives him a huge power trip - he'll go harder, pin your hands above your head so you can't cover yourself. laughs manically when you finally let go. his beautiful smile twists evilly when you softly sob. he'll hold both your wrists in one hand and use the other to grip your face, forcing you to look up at him - man he just loves that humiliating look on your features. the tears in your eyes, the quivering in your lips. makes your lips pucker open so he could spit in your mouth. if you wanna be nasty, seungmin is sure to leave you filthy - your cries turn into choked moans when he starts fucking into you again. it's too much, emotionally and physically, but you love being a good girl for him. he always makes sure to make it up to you afterwards anyway
"Did you really pee on yourself? You really are just a dumb puppy."
JEONGIN - it's really his fault, you wouldn't have peed if it weren't for his actions. he read on the internet that if you press down on your partner's stomach while you fuck them, it makes their orgasms much more extreme. - yes, but at a cost. your release feels beyond amazing, seeing stars in the midst of it. you dont even recognize yourself going pee because everything just feel so good. head thrown back, back arched, eyes rolled, god you're cumming hard - he's in shock. the article didn't mention anything about this. his thrusts slow, but he was soooo close to his own release that he can't fully stop. plus you seem to having a rather fun time, it would be a terrible idea to pull out - you're clenching on his cock repeatedly, pussy fluttering around his cock from your intense orgasm. your cream mixed with piss is surprisingly a good combination to i.n. - everything just sounds so wet, but you hardly have the mind to care. just that pleasurable thrusting in your walls that hit your deepest part numb your senses. are you cumming again? are you pissing? squirting? doesn't matter, you just don't want him to stop - it's after you're both clean and snuggled that i.n shyly tells you of your accident.
"Your pussy felt so good like that. Is it weird that I liked it?"
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hyperactively-me · 7 months
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break in, break down
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"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering. You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him. With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.
this has been sitting in my drafts for like, ever. it's not the best cause its super old, like months old and i lowkey forgot i even had it, but it'll do for now while i'm in this writing rut.
happy reading <3
warnings: home invasion, panic attack reaction (i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything please!)
A loud bang reverberates through your apartment, your peaceful sleep interrupted.
You open your eyes with a start, the volume of the sound causing your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.
You're silent for another moment until the sound of glass shattering causes you to jump. You sit up now, dumbfounded for a brief moment before unshakable anxiety takes over.
There's no way this could be happening to you right now.
You immediately leap out of bed, grabbing a stray hoodie off the floor, slipping it over your thin pajamas. Next, you grab your phone with shaky hands, trembling from the adrenaline and anxiety coursing through your veins. The sounds from outside your bedroom are starting to get louder. You swipe your car keys from your drawer, shoving them into the pocket of your hoodie.
In a frenzy, you grope under your bed for a baseball bat, struggling to steady your shaking hands as you grip it tightly. The rattling of your doorknob nearly makes you pass out in fear. Simon had told you multiple times to keep your door locked when you sleep, stressing to you that it wasn't safe to leave it unlocked, especially at night.
There was no way you could escape through the hallway. Lucky for you, your apartment is on the first floor of the building, meaning that you would be able to safely jump out of your bedroom window without injuring yourself.
You place all your things down quickly, unlatching your window from its locks. You heave it open with all your might, grunting as you hold it up to lock it into an open position. Grabbing your baseball bat first, you throw it out the window and onto the grass below you. Could never be too safe.
Suddenly, the person or people on the other side of your door start kicking at it, the flimsy wood shaking from the impacts. You bite back a scream, prompting you to jump out of your window, dropping onto the grass below you clumsily.
You don't bother looking back as you sprint to your car in the adjacent parking lot, throwing yourself into the drivers seat unceremoniously.
Without another thought, you dial 911. Running on pure adrenaline, you tell the operator your address and the urgency of the situation. The kind voice on the other end tells you that the police are on their way before you hang up.
You bite back a sob as your shaking hands type in Simon's phone number. You hold your phone up to your, chewing your finger as it rings once, twice, and the line picks up.
"Hullo?" a scratchy, sleep-ridden voice on the other end of the line rings out. His accent sounds particularly thick.
"Simon," your voice breaks, the adrenaline now worn off, leaving you a wreck.
"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, now sounding more awake. You hear shuffling on the other end.
"I- I think my apartment got broken into," you sob, fat tears now freely falling down your cheeks. "I'm so scared," you cry, bawling like a baby.
Simon's voice takes on a sharp urgency. "'M coming over right now. Where are you? Are you hurt?"
"I'm in my car, in the parking lot," you say tearfully, trying to wipe the tears from your face unsuccessfully.
"I've already called 911; they're on the way—" you add, clutching onto your phone.
The sound of a door opening and slamming shut crackles through the phone. "Be there in ten. Stay on the line, love."
"I'm scared," you cry again, your free hand trembling as you reach to make sure your car door is locked.
"I know, love, I know. Just hang in there. 'M on my way," Simon reassures you, his voice gentle. The ten-minute wait feels like an eternity as you sit in your car, sniffling every so often as you look out your car windows to make sure no one is coming towards you.
Sirens wail in the distance, the police clearly arriving on scene. Despite the growing fear gnawing at you, Simon's voice provides a source of comfort.
"The police are almost here," you breath into the phone, pulling your knees up to your chest.
"Good, I'm here," he grunts. You look up and see his truck hurtling through the parking lot, stopping abruptly right behind your car. He slides out of his car, rushing to the drivers side of your car.
The moment he reaches your car, you throw open the door and practically fall into his arms. Simon holds you tight as you fall into him, sobs wracking your body.
"Don't cry," he soothes, pulling you tighter against him. "'S alright, 's handled."
He cradles you in his grasp, running his hand over your hair as you sob into his t-shirt, fists bunching up the fabric. You cling to him as if he's your lifeline, the scent of his t-shirt grounding you ever so slightly.
"I've got you," he murmurs, rubbing your back.
Your sobs gradually subside into quiet sniffles, and you take a deep breath.
The distant wailing of sirens grows closer, indicating the police are here. Simon releases you just enough to glance over his shoulder at the approaching vehicles. "The police are here," you whisper, your voice shaky but relieved.
The flashing lights of police cars illuminate the surroundings as officers approach. Simon steps back, maintaining a protective stance beside you.
Two police officers approach you and Simon, asking for details about the break-in. You pull at the hem of your hoodie, trying to cover up your practically bare thighs from your tiny pajamas. Simon settles his hand on your lower back, encouraging you to speak to the officers. You recount the events timidly, telling them as much as you know. After providing your statement, the police assure you they'll investigate your apartment, but advise you that it's not the best to stay there tonight. For obvious reasons.
Upon their insistence of you spending the night somewhere else, before you could even open your mouth, Simon is insisting, no, demanding that you stay with him for the night.
"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering.
You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him.
With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.
As you approach his truck, Simon opens the door for you. He helps you up into the passenger seat, making sure you're settled before closing the door with a determined thud. Simon then strides around to the driver's side, the scent of him lingering in the air as he gets in. The engine roars to life, and you find comfort in the steady hum of the engine.
The drive to Simon's place is mostly quiet. He occasionally glances at you, concern etched into his features. You stare out of the window, the events of the night replaying in your mind. You shiver in your seat, thinking about what could have happened if you hadn't escaped through your window. Simon's hand finds yours, a silent gesture that makes your heart ache with gratitude.
As you pull into Simon's driveway, you're met with the warm glow of his porch light. The familiar sight brings a new sense of relief. It's not the first time you've been to his quaint home. Simon turns off the engine, and without a word, he's at your side, opening the door for you again.
He leads you inside, the click of the door shutting behind you echoing in the quiet house. Simon heads to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets. Moments later, he appears with a mug of tea, a small but comforting gesture. He hands it to you, the warmth seeping into your cold hands.
"Drink this. It'll help calm your nerves," he says, his voice gentle.
You take a sip, the familiar taste of chamomile offering a small respite. Simon sits across from you, watching as you try to steady your trembling hands. The silence between you isn't uncomfortable; it's a shared understanding that words might not be enough to mend the damage that's been dealt.
After a while, Simon breaks the silence. "I'll make up the spare room for you. Take your time. We'll deal with everythin' in the morning."
He disappears down the hall, leaving you alone in the living room. You look around his living room, eyeing his front door for a brief moment. You finish the tea and set the mug on the coffee table, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.
When you enter the spare room, you find it tidy and pretty bare. The scent of clean sheets and the comforting atmosphere of his home a stark difference from your own. You watch as he double checks the windows to make sure they're locked tight. He also shows you the lock on your own bedroom door.
"Everythin' is secure, 've triple checked it all," Simon states, turning from the window to look at you. His concern is evident in his eyes, and you nod in response.
"Thank you, Simon. I appreciate all of this," you say, your voice quiet.
He moves over to the wall, crouching down to plug a night light into the wall. He taps it a few times to make sure it works. When it flickers on, he grunts, satisfied. Pushing himself up to standing, he walks over to you.
He gives you a reassuring smile. "No need to thank me. 'S the least I can do. You get some rest. 'M right across the hall if you need anything."
With that, he leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him. You make sure to lock the door behind him as he leaves. You crawl into bed, pulling the covers over your weary body, exhaustion settling in.
You close your eyes, hoping that sleep will offer some reprieve. As you lay there, the events of the night replay in your mind. The fear, the vulnerability, and the violation of your home weigh heavily on you. Slight sounds make you jump in fear, and all of a sudden you start to breath heavily. You can't be in here, not alone.
You stumble out of the room, practically falling into the hallway. The dim glow of the nightlight casts long shadows, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Determined, you make your way to Simon's door and knock softly.
The door opens, and Simon appears, concern etched on his face. "Everythin' alright, love?"
You can barely form the words, your voice barely a whisper. "Can't stay in there alone."
Without hesitation, Simon opens the door wider, gesturing for you to enter. His room is dark, all lights off. You step inside his room, tugging your hoodie tighter around your body. You settle onto the edge of his bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to ward off the residual fear.
Simon shuts and locks the door behind him, plunging you both into darkness, save for the slight shine of the moon pouring through between a crack in his curtains.
Simon stands in front of you, looking down with a mix of empathy and concern in his eyes. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need. I don't mind."
"Thank you," you manage to say, the vulnerability in your voice more pronounced in the darkness of the room.
Simon hesitates for a moment before flicking on a small bedside lamp. The soft light casts a warm glow across the room, revealing a space that's both lived-in and comforting. You feel a bit more at ease.
He pulls a chair from his desk and sits across from you, leaving a respectful distance. The silence between you is filled with unspoken words, the weight of the night's events hanging in the air. Simon's gaze is unwavering, and you find solace in the fact that he understands what you need without the need for words.
As the minutes tick by, the atmosphere in the room becomes less tense. Simon breaks the silence, his voice a gentle murmur. "I don't want you to go through this alone. You deserve to feel safe, love."
You manage a weak smile, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, Simon. You really don't have to be doing all of this for me--"
"Don't say that, I want to," he cuts you off gruffly, offended as if you would even suggest that you weren't worthy enough of his care.
His response hangs in the air, and you notice a flicker of something in Simon's eyes—a hint of frustration or something deeper. The unspoken tension lingers, causing you to shift slightly.
"I just... I don't want you to feel unsafe," Simon adds, his voice softer this time. He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, his gaze fixed on yours. "Or alone. Fuckin' hell, if you hadn't been able to get out of there..."
He stops, jaw ticking as he thinks. He can't even say it.
The room feels charged with unspoken emotions, and you sense a vulnerability in Simon that mirrors your own.
"Simon," you say softly, your voice a gentle reassurance, "I feel safe with you."
"I've... 've cared about you for a long time, maybe more than I should," Simon admits, his words hanging in the air like a fragile confession.
The vulnerability in his admission tugs at your heart, and you find yourself pushing yourself up off the edge of the bed, cupping his face in your hands.
"I've cared about you too," you confess, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted.
He looks up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of relief and adoration. Simon's hand reaches up to grasp your wrist lightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.
"I never want you to feel unsafe or alone again. I can't stand the thought of somethin' happenin' t' you."
Your heart swells at the sincerity of his words, and you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
The conversation lulls, and for a moment, it's just the two of you in the sanctuary of Simon's bedroom. The emotional exhaustion begins to take its toll, and your eyes grow heavy.
He stands from his chair, grasping your upper arms gently, leading you towards his bed once again. Before he sits you down, he looks at you expectantly.
"Is this what you want?"
"Yes," you nod, "I've never wanted anything more."
With your permission, he lays you down on his bed, following you into the bed with a contained eagerness. He drags you up until you're settled on a pillow. Simon slides into the mattress right next to you, pulling the covers up and over the both of you. You turn on your side to face him, eyes searching his face just before he turns off the lamp, plunging you both into darkness.
Simon's hand brushes against your forearm, seeking permission yet again. You scoot over until you're flush against him, cheeks heating up at the proximity. You feel Simon's warm presence beside you, his hand finding its place on your waist before he pulls you up against him, cuddling you. Simon's fingers trace patterns on your back, a soothing motion that pulls you deeper into relaxation.
"Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need anything, love," Simon whispers, playing with the ends of your hair.
"Thank you," you whisper into the darkness, your voice barely audible but carrying a depth of gratitude.
He tightens his grip on your waist, a silent affirmation that he's here for you, that you're not alone. The warmth of his touch and the gentle rise and fall of his breath provide a sense of security that eases the lingering tension in your body.
. . . 
The morning light begins to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow in Simon's room. As you slowly awaken, the events of the previous night come back to you in fragments. You turn slightly to find Simon still asleep beside you, his features softened by the morning light. His arm is draped protectively over you, and a sense of peace settles in the room. For a moment, you simply revel in the quiet stillness, savoring the moment.
As Simon begins to stir, his eyes meet yours, and a sleepy smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Mornin’," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. The air in the room feels different, more relaxed.
Simon props himself up on one elbow, his gaze searching yours. "How are you feeling?"
"Better than I thought I would," you admit, a genuine warmth in your voice. "Still kinda freaked out that people broke in to my apartment, but better."
He nods thoughtfully. "We should probably get up, check in with the police," Simon suggests, but there's a reluctance in his eyes to let go of the warmth of the bed.
You cuddle against him once more, hugging him tightly. His arm comes to wrap around your back, hand splayed across your skin.
"Yeah, we should," you say, pulling away gently as you push yourself out of bed.
"We're goin' together," he tells you. "And I will be installing a new security system in your apartment."
You manage a small smile. "I don't think you understand how much I appreciate you for this."
He sighs as he leads you to his small kitchen. "You never have to thank me for anything, love."
Before you can retort, he turns to you. "Let's get some breakfast in ya. How do you like your eggs?"
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moremaybank · 22 days
Note
okay I still cannot stop thinking about best friend jj and reader. Its mentioned her parents have body shamed her in the past and her mom makes that comment about her hips. What if it really got to her at one point and JJ is the only one who noticed. Not like a full blown eating disorder thankfully but that he noticed her skipping meals and he had to sit her down on his lap and tell her she was perfect...sorry just me thinking lol
eeek! first in between au request! thank you for the continuous love ♡︎ warnings reader skipping meals, body shaming (r's parents), bsf!jj being a sweetheart as usual [1k]
At first, it wasn’t a big deal. 
JJ was well aware that sometimes, when you were stressed, you’d forget to eat. He’d urge you to at least steal a few pieces of food off his plate (okay, maybe more than a few), and his mind would be at peace knowing that you were now fed and taken care of. 
But soon, he noticed that it became a daily thing. You’d tell him you weren’t hungry, or that you’d already eaten earlier, but then, he’d hear your stomach growling and watch you blatantly ignore it. You looked exhausted all the time, your physical strength was depleting. He’d watch you grow snappy at the smallest things, watch the way you’d pick at your food and move it around on your plate mindlessly every time you two ate together. Then, you’d dismiss his concerns with a forced smile.
After a few weeks had gone by, and your actions had remained the same, he knew something was up. He couldn’t stand to see you become a shell of who you usually were. There was no spark of wonder in your eyes. It was like all your hope had been sucked out of you. 
He also knew that your family was hard on you when it came to your body. And it sucked to admit, but at the beginning, he hadn't thought too much of it. Now, though, something was going on with his favourite girl and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. 
“Hey, you feel like goin’ to the Wreck? I'm feelin’ a seafood boil right now.”
You simply shrugged him off, your gaze remaining on the work in front of you. You’d been consumed in it all day, barely even blinking an eye in JJ’s general direction. 
“Not really hungry. I can come with you, though?”
Approaching you at your seat in front of your desk, his hands pried the pen from your hand, and he placed it down on the wooden surface. Then, he crouched down to get a better look at you.
“What’s goin’ on with you?” 
You turned away from him, scared of looking into his eyes. His tone indicated that you’d been caught. You should’ve known that he would pick up on your change in demeanour sooner or later. 
It was JJ.
Getting things past him simply was not a thing. It never was. 
Still, though, you’d make the effort even if it proved to be pointless. You weren’t sure the honesty was worth seeing the disappointment on his face. 
“Nothing. Jus’ not hungry.” 
“Y/N, I haven’t seen you eat a proper meal in two weeks.” 
“I said I'm good, J.” Your voice was bitter and sharp as you picked your pen back up, breaking free of his hold and trying to continue with your work. “If you wanna eat, go eat.”
He took the pen from your hand again, stuffing it in his pocket so you couldn’t get to it as easily. 
“You really think that by now, I don’t know when you’re actin’ up?” He held your face in his hands, ensuring that you couldn’t look away from him again. “Jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on so I can fix it.” 
“You can’t fix this, J.” 
He sighed softly, his thumbs swiping over the apples of your cheeks. “Try me.” 
You stalled for a moment. You didn’t want the judgement, You knew what he would say. 
Y/N/N, don’t listen to him. He’s a piece of shit. He has no idea what he’s talking about. 
If this was about anything else, maybe you would’ve believed him. But after hearing comments from your parents about your body for almost two decades…maybe their words had some truth to them, right? 
But when you looked into those oceanic puppy-dog eyes, it was as if he was willing the truth out of you wordlessly. Sighing, you broke free of his grasp carefully. You strolled over to your dresser, pulling your phone off of the surface and opening your messages on your way back to him. You handed him the device, the glow of your screen illuminating his face as it showed him the texts you’d received from your father earlier last week. 
You think your mother and I haven’t noticed how you’ve gotten fuller? Everything you’ve worn to our events lately has only made you look worse. A girl your age should be slimmer. We should get you on a diet, up your physical activity.”
If you don’t fix your appearance, you’re going to embarrass us in front of our colleagues. We can’t secure this deal if you’re looking plump.
I’ve had it. You shouldn’t accompany us anywhere for the next few months. Not until you get your weight under control. 
Rage bubbled deep in his core, threatening to swallow him whole. It had always puzzled him beyond belief — how your parents could look at you and see the complete opposite of what he had.
Perfection.
He tried to remain stoic. You’d never been happy when he got upset over things your parents had done in the past, and right now, when you were looking so pained, how could he make things worse?
“Y/N/N,” he said, hands bracing your shoulders. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” 
You couldn’t even find the courage to look up at him. You were too scared, too ashamed. You didn’t want his pity, you just wanted the voices to stop, and though you believed JJ could do anything, you weren’t sure if he could quiet that noise. 
It was too blaring. 
“You’re actin’ like there’s somethin’ to fix, but there isn’t. You’re perfect. I don’t care what your dress size is. You don’t need to be cuttin’ back. End of story.” 
“J, it’s just not that easy—”
His index finger found your lips, effectively shushing you and garnering your attention. “They’re wrong about everythin’ else, right?”
You nodded slowly. “…Yeah.” 
“So what makes ‘em right about this?” 
He got you good. He’d always had a certain way with you, and thank God he did. 
One of his hands abandoned your shoulder, finding your face instead. Blue eyes bore their soul into yours, trying to engrave how he viewed you into your brain. 
“Eat whatever the fuck you want. You’re beautiful, and you always will be.” 
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
Note
HELLO OMG I ADORE U SM LIKE-❤❤
aside from my endless love and appreciation for you, i'd also like to make a request if that's okay!, it's also gonna be NSFW and kinda shameless so my apologies if it's kida weird- IM NEW TO THIS REQUESTING STUFF AND ITS ALWAYS SO AWKWARD ASKING FOR STUFF LIKE THIS😭 (grammar mistakes are also possible, english is my second language and my keyboard is dyslexic)
I'm having MAJOR sub Lucifer brainrot and would LOVE to read anything with my needy boy in it<3 had a specific scenerio where he's being edged to the point he's crying and trashing around a little as he's begging. For what?, he doesn't know, he's just whining and whimpering for anything at this point, just whining for his mommy to touch him and that it hurts so much but it's so good<33 ending with soft aftercare where he slowly comes out of his subspace by sucking on and groping mommys tits, falling asleep in a peaceful cuddle :)
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a/n — I’m so sleepy right now, so apologies for any grammar mistakes. I’ve looked over it twice but i’m genuinely scared for when I reread this tomorrow morning.
summary — Lucifer being mercilessly edged before sucking on the readers tits to fall asleep.
warnings — Fem!reader, use of the word mommy, sub Lucifer, edging, dom reader, obviously
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“Mommy, please, nngh—“ Lucifer squirms on the bed, “I’ve been such a good boy.”
“And you’ll continue to be one, at least until I say you can cum,” you coo down at him all too sweetly. He whines pathetically and bucks his cock up into your hand.
At this point you’d been edging him for hours, sucking him off, riding him, and now giving him a simple hand job. Surprisingly, Lucifer had held strong this whole time.
You couldn’t lie, you were fully expecting to have to punish him for coming prematurely but he had held himself together this whole time. You could only assume he’d just wanted to be good for you that bad.
It almost made you pity him. He squirmed and thrashed around on the bed below you, a slick layer of sweat coating his forehead as he held himself back. His hair fell on his forehead in messy tangles and his cheeks were stained with tears.
He looked absolutely wrecked, ready and willing to do your bidding. Of course, if it meant he could finally cum.
“Ungh, mommy, help me, please. Please—“ He pleaded desperately, sniffing loudly and choking on his own spit, “Please I can’t hold off…”
His sentence trailed off as he found it increasingly hard to form words, let alone coherent thoughts. 
“I know sweetie, and you’ve been so patient and good for me,” you praise, rubbing your hand on the tip of his dick as precum leaked out. 
He whimpered and arched his back into your touch. His crying and sniffling was only interrupted by the inconsistent muttering of the word ‘mommy’ over and over again.
“So pretty like this, absolutely wrecked and desperate. My pretty boy,” you remark, jerking him off faster, “You’re so beautiful, baby.”
He cried out, moaning and sobbing and he through his head back into the pillow.
You shush him, “Have you had enough, sweetheart? Do you think it’s time for you to cum?”
He nods his head vigorously and lets out tears of relief at the thought of finally being permitted to release. 
“Yes, nngh—“ he whines, “—mommy, please. ‘ve been so good.”
“Yes you have, Lucifer,” you caress his face with your free hand, “It’s time for you to let go baby. You’re allowed.”
You barely get your sentence out before Lucifer arches his back, throws his head into the pillows once more, and releases.
Falling back, breathless, he lays there and waits for your touch. 
It doesn’t take long for you to take a spot next to him, brushing his hair from out of his face, “My pretty boy, you did so good for mommy.”
Lucifer whines and curls up, laying his head on your lap and gazing up at you with half lidded eyes.
You stroke his hair and coo down praises at him, telling him how well he took everything and how proud of him you are.
It was only when you were just about to get up and clean the bed, Lucifer lifted his head up and hovered his hand over your exposed tits. 
“May I have one?” Lucifer practically whispers, clearly not at all recovered from his submissive headspace.
You hesitate, but you figure it’d be easier to clean up after he falls asleep so you can just move him to the side. 
Happily, you smile down at him and nod, “Of course, baby. Help yourself.”
He doesn’t waste time before latching onto your tit and sucking lazily. He moans slightly as he gropes the other one with his hand.
You rub his back and pull him closer, “Good boy. You look so pretty sucking on mommy’s tits like this.”
He whimpers against you and his lips start to move sloppily. It was clear Lucifer was being lured into a deep sleep, just as you expected. 
His movements got slower and slower, just as your praise turned into quiet whispers of approval. 
Finally he stopped moving, gradually falling limp against your chest. You take a moment to admire him sleeping before moving him aside to cleanup.
You softly clean Lucifer’s sleeping body in order to not wake him up, and make sure there aren’t any lingering liquids on the sheets around you.
After doing one finale scope of the area, you crawl in bed next to him and pull him into your chest, spooning him gently.
He was so pretty like this, sleeping safe and soundly next to you. 
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a/n — The idea of Lucifer with a mommy kink intrigues me heavily. You guys gotta let me cook on the physiological reasons why he’s into it though.
Can’t think of any at the moment but i’m tired and he’s a fucked up little guy. So i’m sure there are some
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princessbrunette · 1 month
Note
how would pope act is reader asked him to slap her mid fuck 🫠
🌸⋆。°🐻‍❄️°⋆. ࿔*:・💭
don’t be mistaken, pope can get super into it, bordering on rough if he’s feeling particularly pent up. he’s a passionate lover, so it’s to no one’s surprise that the bed is shaking, creaking and thumping against the wall of his bedroom with each roll of his hips.
perhaps that’s why you get so into it, the feeling of your strong boyfriend roughing you up left you with a demand for more. a desire to be left sore, crying.
“hit me!” you groan, half muffled by your own fingers over your mouth, sza’s voice on the speaker concealing the sound even more. in a way he complies, a soft groan leaving him as he smacks the fat on the side of your hip before grabbing a handful of it as leverage for his thrusts. its sexy, but you want more.
“slap me, pope. please…” you pant in clarification, trying to keep your hazy eyes on his. his face screws up as he slows to catch his breath, hovering over you — eyeing you.
“what?” he breathes out, in disbelief.
“just want you to rough me up. please slap me.” you get teary eyed, and at this point he figures maybe you’re too fucked out to really know what you want.
“i think we should talk about this when —”
“please. please.” you plead, chest rising and falling. it’s at this point he hears jj’s voice, a moment shared from earlier in the week where his blonde best friend berated him for always playing by the rules. ‘dude you gotta be spontaneous. that’s what life’s all about.’ so, his eyes darken a little, shifting his hips with his cock still burrowed inside, eliciting a whimper from you.
“really? are you sure that’s what you want?” he confirms, dropping an elbow by your side to lean more weight onto you.
“yes.” you whisper, a look of determination on your wrecked face. your boyfriend leans in, like he’s going to kiss you, even tilts his head a little — breath mingling. just as his lips brush yours, he draws back and in a second gives you a hard slap. your head turns, so you don’t see the few seconds of panic in his wide eyes that he’d hit you too hard.
you smile, bleary eyed when you look back at him.
“yeah? you like that?” he starts to move again, specifically aroused by the way your walls squeeze him.
“loved it. so strong, popey.” you muse, shaking fingertips brushing his biceps and he chuckles humbly, his regular personality slipping through.
“thank you, i try.”
🌸⋆。°🐻‍❄️°⋆. ࿔*:・💭
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cheriladycl01 · 4 months
Text
How the fuck has a bird been the reason I DNFed - Grid x Driver! Reader
Plot: Y/N is racing in Silverstone when a Pigeon flies into her and is stuck to her while she's driving at 200mph around the track until it starts to fly away but gets pulled under the car and causes Y/N to crash out.
Credit to umlewis for the GIF
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"Y/N you are currently P2, Lewis ahead 2.6 second gap" your radio engineer says.
"Copy, increasing" you report.
Sky Sports: Commentator - It's really been a fantastic race at Silverstone, with only 4 laps left to go, it's looking like a Lewis win, Y/N behind him in P2 and Oscar Piastri who just overtook Max Verstappen. WHAT'S THIS Y/N JUST HAD A BIT OF A TWITCH ON TRACK! She remains steady but... was that debris? Commentator - Lets look at that on-board, to me it looks like Y/N's had a bird attack. Oh woah yeah look at that, it flies straight into her. She flinches which is what that twitch was, but she's recovered so well and the birds still in there with her. Commentator - Let's look at that radio.
Y/N Radio: Y/N - A fucking bird just flew into me Radio Engineer - Copy that Y/N - What do you mean copy that, what do i do. It's covering my vision from the left with its wing! Radio Engineer - Go into turn 14, and try shift it off. If not then pull it off on the straight Y/N - I'm driving 200mph and you want me to take my hands off the wheel?
As you swoop round that corner the bird manages to jump out all on its own, without you having to nudge it, where you were slower. However next thing you know as your speeding down the straight is you see a large mass get sucked under you car. You car jumps slightly with the intrusion under the car and you spin a little, recovering it once again.
"Fuck fuck" you mutter to yourself as the car starts to spit the engine.
"Did you just take the bird under the car?" you engineer asks and you let out a small whimper. You couldn't believe you'd just killed a bird with your car.
"The car's fuck-" you start, but something gives out in you car and in a freak accident your car skids as you attempt to break. However with the motion of your car clipping the race edging you car flips over multiple times. Where you car was flipping, the gravel wasn't much help to slow you down, and you colliding into the barriers was the only thing you remembered.
Sky Sports: Commentator - And what a nasty crash that is for Y/N, really unfortunate where she was gaining on Lewis. And i think that's a red flag because of the amount of debris and that crash. Everyone's being called back to the pits and the Red Bull Team are looking extremely worried for their youngest driver. Commentator - this just isn't looking good David, no Marshalls have arrived on scene, Y/N isn't replying to her Engineer... everyone in the pits looks worried. These are those crashes that, you just really don't know the outcome...
Y/N Radio: Radio Engineer - Y/N please come in, Y/N are you okay? *Static* Radio Engineer - Y/N, the Marshalls are nearly with you, if the radio is broken, please just give us a hand gesture of something. *static* Radio Engineer - Christian, she's not replying Y/N - How- Radio Engineer - Y/N! Y/N - How the fuck has a bird been the reason I DNFed
Sky Sports: Commentator - Her voice sounds a little strained but, she's getting herself out that wreck as the Marshalls approach. The car engine has just caught alight as well, so the Marshalls will need to look at that.
You pulled yourself out, before putting a week thumbs up to the fans who were all standing round near the barrier waiting to see if you really were okay!
Marshalls came running over, two of three going to defuse the car and the others coming to check on you.
"You okay kid?" a man asks you, you had your arm wrapped round the front of you, by your ribs. They were most definitely bruised for sure.
"Smells like a fucking fuel infused Christmas dinner" you shout over the loud noises of the crowd and the car being put out before pointing at the roasted Pigeon on the floor next to your car.
The medic bursts out laughing, happy to see that you were okay and cracking jokes.
"Fuck, I just lost P2" you say kicking some of the gravel. You look up seeing the medical car come up to you. You walk over to it explaining your okay, but they refuse saying they need you to come in for observation.
After a long time in observation coming out with a mild concussion, bruised ribs and a sprain you were sent back to see the last few laps of the race. You saw some crew from various new channels film you, making you wave and smile.
You saw Christian and he immediately came from the Pit Wall pulling you into a hug.
"Hey its okay, it's okay! I'm just glad you are okay. That was a freak accident and there wasn't much else we could have done" Christian says rubbing your shoulder.
Everyone was happy too see you, Max ended up overtaking both Oscar and Lewis, coming in first place as a make up for what happened with you.
After the podium you were directed to post race interviews.
"Well, Y/N what a race that was. Could have been a race win but ... talk us through what happened" Will says looking at you and pushing the mic forward.
"Well, its uncommon but yeah. I was driving, pigeon flew into my cockpit and gave me the scare of my life. It hit my chest and helmet hard which caused that spin. And from there on it was a shit show, and I ended up crashing. Considering that wasn't a crash with another car, that's one of the worst I've been in! I blacked out and don't remember too much" you explain and he nods in thought.
"Yeah, you definitely had us all worries there! That's up there with the nastiest crashes I've witnessed. We're just all glad your okay!" he smiles and with that your sent off.
You went online to see everyone making memes of you and the bird and your funny radios.
All the other drivers had messaged you to make sure that you were okay, and you'd been treated to dinner by Max and Christian who felt bad about your scare today.
But overall, if you ever see a bird on the track again, you'll probably cry!
A/N: Just a small little drabble!
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo
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apclyptc · 4 months
Text
paint. smut ahead. chris sturniolo x reader.
warnings: sloppy head, facial, cum eating
“hey baby?” you spoke to your boyfriend chris while you were both scrolling mindlessly on your phones.
chris put his phone down to give his attention to you, “what is it?” he asked you.
“i kinda wanna try something…” you trailed off.
“is it that food recipe i showed you, cause we don’t have the stuff but i can go pick it up at the store–”
“no, no. it’s not that.” despite being with him for so long, you found yourself getting shy at your words.
“what is it that you wanna try?” he reached his arm over to your thigh, caressing it slowly.
“i kinda want you to give me a facial.” you smiled sheepishly. you sounded like a little teenager.
chris’ eyes widened, not expecting that sort of request from you.
“oh. oh, well uh, yeah we can definitely do that.” he made a half-assed attempt to cover his excitement.
“come over here and kiss me, then.” you smiled, innocence in your voice as though you didn’t just ask him to paint your face with his seed.
chris didn’t bother to take his time with you as he normally would, immediately colliding with you, licking into your mouth desperately. a small whine escaped your throat.
“knees on the floor, baby.” he commanded, sending a shiver down your spine as his low-voiced demands always did.
you keenly followed his orders, pressing your knees into the soft carpet of his bedroom.
you nuzzled your face into his pants, feeling his half-hard dick underneath his clothes. chris shuddered a loaded sigh, hips pushing into your head.
“have i ever mentioned how i love you kneeling for me?” he smirked down at you.
“maybe once or twice,” you smirked back, hooking your fingers into his waistband and tugging. it was always such a pleasure to see his boxers stretching around his dick. it was a reminder of the power you had over him, and you were sure the damp patch on your panties did the same for him, though the sight of it was restricted right now.
chris only watched as your pulled his now fully hard cock out of his underwear, admiring its length and thickness.
not wanting to waste anymore time, you stuck out your tongue and licked all the way from base to tip, and he hissed.
“fuckkkkk,” chris moaned above you. you felt him grab a fistful of hair, “so good at this.”
his praise spurred you on, motivating you to make him come.
you moaned around him, licking around him anywhere you could while you took as much of him into your mouth as you could manage.
“oh my fucking god… taking this dick so well.”
chris’ hips edged their way further into your face, feeling his neatly trimmed hair tickle your nose. you gagged around him, half purposefully, knowing it drove him crazy when he could hear you struggling to take all of him.
“that’s it baby, fuck, make a mess.” he groaned lowly, and you watched his head throw back in pleasure. satisfying, but ultimately not what you wanted.
popping his dick out of your mouth, you spoke, “i’ll stop if you keep looking away from me.” he bit his bottom lip as to not moan from your words alone. he absolutely loved when you talked to him this way.
as soon as his eyes were on yours, you slipped his entire cock into your mouth, gagging once again.
“holy shit, y/n.” chris sighed loudly, willing his eyes not to roll back from the fear you’d stop again.
by now he was thrusting into you, carnally fucking your throat like he couldn’t help it.
“ohhh fuck,” he whined once he felt you swallow around him, your throat contracting over and over, giving him the sensation that he was inside your cunt. oh, how he wished he was wrecking your spongy walls.
you could tell he was close, fighting the urge not to come but losing the battle.
“baby, i’m not gonna last, fuck, much longer.” he panted out.
just a little bit more, you thought to yourself since you knew the words wouldn’t come out. adding the finishing touches, your hand reached up to fondle his balls and he snapped.
pulling himself out of your mouth, chris stroked himself over you as his cum spurted out in thick ropes on your face.
there was not much of you uncovered, his seed on your forehead, slightly in your hair, over your eyelashes and finally on your tongue.
you licked the evidence from your mouth, enjoying the salty taste of his load as you felt another spurt on your chin. the sight of your face dripping with cum already had chris half-hard again.
“y/n that was so fucking sexy.” he practically groaned out, watching you drag a finger across your eyelids and sucking it into your mouth.
“i think we should do that more often.” you giggled at your boyfriends stupefied face.
“we’re not done yet. it’s your turn to come on my face.”
a/n wow i wasn’t expecting that new tiktok to make me write so fast. my next draft is going to take a liiiittle longer than this just took me to finish but i hope it’s worth it in the end.
ciao ciao
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© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites
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pedge-page · 3 months
Text
Closer
sub/Himbo!Joel Miller x F!Reader
can be read as a follow up to Safe or standalone
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Summary: you give Joel exactly what you both want, and he feels closer to you than ever before.
Warnings: Sub!Joel, Himbo!Joel, Mommy kink, Breeding Kink, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, face riding, oral F! receiving, premature ejaculation, preg, Joel gets called puppy
18+ ONLY
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He’s barely thrusting in and out any more. Just pathetic grinding and unrhythmic humps with pathetic whines and unrhythmic grunts.
You squeeze the fat around his hips, your legs dangling off to each of his sides. His head tucked low with his sweaty forehead resting atop your breasts his eyes remained glued to the spot where he disappears into your sopping cunt. where the two of you are Joined. Connected. Close.
He lets out a harsh gasp. “I made—mmmmffff—Mommy my cum dump,” he hums proudly. His brows suddenly furrow in concentration when your warm walls tighten.
"Where did you learn that? Who said that?"
His hips slow their pace. Eyes refusing to find yours after such a bold statement. Embarassment washes over him. “Um... Tommy said... you were like my cum dump... because I keep dumping my load inside you.” Joel stills entirely, the downward cast of his face giving way to his guilty conscious.
You squish his cheeks and make him look at you like a grown man. There’s such a thrill buried inside you when he perks up at direct eye contact from you, even when you're scolding him, like you were granting him such luxuries to be acknowledged. “Don't listen to Tommy. Mommy tells you what you need to know.” 
He nods obediently, picking up his frantic thrusts again with renewed security.
Your nails claw against his broad, sun speckled back. The reminder of his muscled form doesnt deter your control over him in the slightest. and he doesn't mind surrendering to you entirely either.
His harsh pants fan across your throat, pulling him closer in to your warm embrace. Your body bounces back and forth with each rock of his cock plunging into you. Soft lips kissing away the sweat under your jaw. You can feel the smile crinkle around his cheeks pressing against your shoulder. Joel feels so capable yet so protected with you. He never wants to leave your comfort.
You can tell from the high pitched puppy noises he’s making mixed with the swell of his cock reaching deeper inside your pussy that he’s getting close. Working to secure yet another generous load of his seed inside you.
“Hey,” you coo, kissing his forehead before bringing his eyes to meet yours. God, he looked so perfect like this—all lost and dazed, not a thought behind those eyes except Mommy’s cunt, Mommy’s pussy, MommyMommyMommy. He’s half listening, so pussy whipped out of his mind, but you know he’s going to love your next words:
 “We're gonna have a baby."
A fat grin spreads over his entire face before his lips are parting in an “o,” slamming into you one last time balls deep. He’s so excited that he cums. His movement stops altogether, groaning with an eye rolling orgasm, spilling his hot creamy spend into your already fertilized womb.
You laugh at him. “Happy, you're making me a real Mommy?”
"Because—because I put my cum inside mommy!"
"Yes sweetie.” yours lips find his, sucking away his pants. "And you're gonna be a Daddy."
"I did—“ he gasps loudly, trying to talk and catch his breath—“I did a good job.” He’s wrecked but trying so hard to recognize the reward of his hard work. The thing you had been promising him for ages finally come to fruition and its because of him. He should be proud. He knows you’re proud.
"Baby will grow better if you keep putting more in,” you tease, hands creeping over his ass and pushing him further inside you, forcing his seed to your cervix.
“Mommy,” he whines, knees rutting forward so he’s grinding against your mound. You can feel each ripple of his glutes flexing underneath your fingertips. 
“Are you being selfish? Doesn’t Mommy get to cum?”
He nods, fearful that you would think he’s leaving you out. Even if he would forget to please you, Joel’s only purpose is to please you, fulfill your needs and empty his balls into you and breed. Only in this case, he's the livestock sperm-bank to your nurturing and greedy will.
“Roll over.”
He switches positions so fast, the back of his head slamming into the pillow, body jittery with excitement. He only briefly misses your warm cunt, worried over the cum that is still there.
“Good puppy boy,” you praise.
If Joel had a tail, it would be sprained from how hard he’s wagging.
You climb atop Joel's face. 
He immediately sees the pearly drops of his cum starting to seep out of from your slit. “No! No no Mommy it's leaving your pussy!"
You pin his wrists down with your knees, and he almost cries at the tortured sight of it slowly dripping from your throbbing cunt, down your folds and on to his chin.
"Then you'll put more in. Shhh. It's okay, don't panic. You’ll have more cum to put in me.”
Joel steadies his breathing as you stroke soothingly over his scruffy cheek. He knows you'll take more and more from him as you please, but he really needs to let this go if that's what you command. you know better than he does, afterall.
Your thumb and finger clench his cheeks tightly, wakening him to your attention. 
“But it's my decision. I decide what to do with you cum. Your body. Your cock. I decide what's best for you."
He nods, mouth muffled as you sink yourself onto his face. He eagerly laps at his messy seed from you like honey straight from the hive. He gets lost in it, the salty thick taste invading his buds, humming with his pretty lashes closed. His gentle hands, all rough on the exterior but so loving with intent, slide up along your middle until he's gently splayed a palm over your lower tummy, dreaming, wondering, hoping, excited to feel it swell so soon knowing he put a child in you. The room is so quiet. Intimate just between the two of you. Your fingers dance over his, layered on top and rolling each roll of your pussy onto his face. His eyes open and you smile warmly at him. You feel his breath hitch at the sight of you, so enthralled to be so much closer to mommy, tied together, physically and emotionally, than ever before.
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dorotheataylor · 1 month
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You are in Love
Pairing- Gojo Satoru x fem!Reader
Summary- The three times he realised he loved you, and the one time he said it. Inspired by You are in Love (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift.
Warnings- Its just fluff, a little angst if you squint? SATORU IS WHIPPED (hes so cute😭), best friends to lovers romance, Shoko and Suguru playing cupids, whipped satoru (yes this warning again), swearing (its only one word but still), no curses!au, modern!au, my poor english :p
Word Count- 3.5k words
A/N- Whenever I listen to Taylor, either this guy or his best friend pop up in my head. Like the amount of times I think about them is so insane and I can’t help it anymore. Anyways, here’s another songfic (is this even a surprise atp?) based on another Taylor’s song coz i love that woman so much. Alsoooo it’s my birthday today! And what is better than writing a fic abt your man on your birthday? So I hope y’all enjoy this little birthday gift from me!
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The first time Satoru realised he loved you was when you were in college together. It was the last day of the semester before everyone bid farewell to each other and went home for the holiday season. You and him were walking along one pathway coming back from your Christmas shopping, snow falling softly around everyone’s body, and a chill in the air that made everyone want to snuggle up beside the fireplace in their houses.
Suguru and Shoko had joined you both too but then excused themselves to leave you two alone, hoping that the romantic ambiance of the holiday season would finally give Satoru the confidence to tell you how he felt.
To say he was a nervous wreck was an understanding. He had spent the whole afternoon talking to himself in the mirror, practicing what he would say so that he won't stumble on his words and ruin the moment.
He didn't have a problem talking to you as he normally does; you were his best friend after all, like Suguru and Shoko, but once he tries to tell you that you make his heart beat faster, make butterflies flood his stomach, it makes him lose all his senses. Suguru had to drag him out of his room, complaining about waiting for 'thirty fucking minutes' already.
Eventually, he met you and Shoko at the front gate of his house and walked with you towards the mall. The entire day, he felt so jittery, like he couldn’t stay still. You remained oblivious to the fact that Satoru was about ready to burst from the inside from how nervous he was.
Suguru and Shoko, on the other hand, couldn’t contain their laughter. By the time the sky began to fade into the night sky, Suguru and Shoko decided that now was as good of a time than ever and made up an excuse to leave the two of you alone. 
Now here you were, walking beside Satoru, bundled up in your white scarf, and the cutest red blush on the tip of your nose. You readjusted your beanie, looking up at him to start conversation. Satoru felt his words get stuck in his throat, unable to remember how to speak with you staring up at him with the twinkle of oblivion in your eye.
"Toru?" you asked bumping your shoulder with him, noticing his uneasy expressions as you wrapped an arm around yourself to get some warmth as the snow had started to fall little more harshly, "am I that boring that your mind had to drift somewhere else?"
"God no." He blushed, finally able to say something without stumbling. Without thought, he wrapped one of his arm around you, bringing you closer to him. You sighed in content, melting into him and Satoru swore his heart swelled three times its size.
The snow crunched under your boots as you walked up the path. The lights lining the cobblestone street gave a yellow tint to the sight. He walked with you in silence but in his head, he was going over exactly what he wanted to say. This was the perfect time.
The snow falling from the sky, little snowflakes tangled in the strands of your hair. You were pressed up against his chest, so close to him that he could smell your perfume, sweet and addicting. There were no other people around, all too eager to find sanctuary in warmth that their houses brought. It was the perfect time.
He stopped walking, halting you with him. He let you go for a moment, taking a deep breath in and slowly let it out. You watched as the cloud of fog escaped his lips and dispersed into the air. His white hair poked out from under his hoodie, matted on his forehead. Satoru looked down at his wet boots, kicking around snow that pooled around the soles.
Finally, he looked up, taking your two hands into his palms in the process. 
You smiled at the gesture, your heart fluttering in your chest. You looked at him, offering a comforting look as you raised your eyebrows up in suspicion, “What’s up, Toru?”
And just like that, all of the words he worked so hard to conjure up, slipped right out of his mind. When he saw you looking up at him, eyebrows raised, cheeks and nose tinted with a light shade of pink, and your lips plump and red, he realized that there were no words to describe what it was he felt about you.
You watched him in silence, studying the way he gave you a lopsided smile when you tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. He leaned into your touch, letting out another sigh of relief. 
“Nothing,” he finally spoke, letting go of your hands. He wrapped his arm around you again, hoping you won’t hear the marching of his heart in his chest. “You’re my best friend.”
-
The second time he realised he loved you was when he found you crying on your couch. He had came to check on you when you didn’t come over for the routine movie night. Every Saturday, you, him, Suguru and Shoko got together at each other’s places for movie nights. Laughter, jokes, entertainment, talks, drinks and what not went on full night and the next day all of you were passed out on either couch or the floor.
Today everyone was coming over at Satoru’s place. Suguru and Shoko were already there but when it kept getting late, Satoru became worried about you. Shoko tried assuring him you were okay, just stuck in some work but he wouldn’t believe it. Because you were time punctual and never missed the movie nights.
So he came over to yours and opened your door with the spare key you’d given him only to find you curled up in your couch, crying.
He immediately rushed over to you and wrapped his arms around you tightly as you held onto him. He didn’t say anything but stayed there, holding you, feeling his heart break as you sobbed into his chest.
A few moments later, when he felt you relaxing a little, he took your face in his hands as he asked, “better?”
You just nodded as you snuggled into him. Neither of you two said anything, a comfortable silence, just sitting there on your couch, engulfing each other, enjoying each other’s company.
“Now tell me what happened?” he asked softly when your crying had quieted down, afraid you might break again.
“It’s nothing. I just- its too much. Work, studies, family, everything. I just got too overwhelmed and just couldn’t keep it in anymore. And I had nobody present here for me to tell me that its okay or listen about what I felt.” You said now realising what mess you had made and quite embarrassed that Satoru had to see you this vulnerable. “God this is embarrassing! I’m so sorry.”
“Hey look at me.” He said, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him when you didn’t. “Everyone in this world has a vulnerable side. Everyone on this planet has things which is maybe too much overwhelming for them that they might just break at any point. Just like you did. But don’t ever apologise for this. Because none of it is your fault. Okay? And I’m always here for you. Even if you’re far away, I’ll always be there. You’re not alone, okay?”
You just nodded and gave him the smile he adored so much. And without saying anything else, he wrapped both of his arms around you once again, letting you rest your head on his chest. He kissed your forehead and hummed in content as you snuggled even closer to him if possible.
And as he looked down at the girl in his arms, he realised this is what he wanted for the rest of his life. He loved you. 
-
The third time he realised he loved you was after summer. He hadn’t talked or heard from you since 4 months.
You left without a goodbye or a message to god knows where. He'd tried searching for you but always ended up getting disappointed. Suguru and Shoko missed you too. They had helped him to find you too but to no avail. It was like you’d disappeared into thin air.
Satoru often wondered if you ever thought about him like he did, if you missed him like he did. He knew you were probably out there pursuing your dream career, which you'd always talked about and wanted to do, but a part of him wanted to be there with you. To support and cheer for you at every step you take, to give you advices, to have late night celebration for your achievements. Call him selfish and everything. Everyday that passed, he cursed himself for not telling you how he felt before you left. Would it have made any difference? He’d like to think so. Even if it didn’t, he, at least, wouldn’t have to live every single day thinking: “What if?”
He kept a picture of you in his office. He often looked at it whenever he was free, always wondering how you were doing, if you were okay or not. Suguru and Shoko always found this sight pitful. They had tried to get him to move on, but all of them knew that Satoru was so in love with you and you were special to all three of them and that nobody could ever take your place.
It wasn’t until six months later when you stumbled into the building, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. A part of you knew you didn’t have the right to be there because you left them with no warning. You wouldn’t blame them if they asked you to leave the premises the minute their eyes landed on you. You knew you deserved the cold shoulder. Because if they were the ones who did that to you, you knew you wouldn’t be so forgiving.
The receptionist had told you to wait while she checked if the three of them were free or not. As you waited, you smiled sadly at the memories of last six months. You had gone for higher studies, as your dad had promised, for your dream career. You knew you should’ve at least informed someone before you left but everything happened just so fast that one moment your dad had agreed on your consent and the next moment you were on the plane.
Surely you enjoyed the studies and training period there, Paris being busy in days and nights, but having really nice places to visit. You would always go to the Eiffel tower, watching the sunset, half expecting for Satoru to wrap his arm around your waist but whenever you turned your head you’d always met with empty space. Whenever you came home exhausted, you always expected Satoru to be there with dinner ready and him greeting you with a welcome home kiss.
That’s why you came back. To be in his arms. To be able to kiss him. To be able to call him yours. Because you’d realise that your life was nothing if Gojo Satoru wasn’t in it.
The receptionist told you to go upstairs at floor 5 but as you were about to click the lift button, you heard someone running on the stairs. You turned to look who it was and your eyes locked with a pair of blue ones which were close to home. He just looked at you and slowly stepped towards you as you did the same.
When you were both closer to each other, he brought his hand up, touching your cheeks delicately as if making sure you were real.
Satoru couldn’t believe it. When the receptionist called him and said that someone named Y/N L/N was here to meet him, he left all his works and ran downstairs. And now that he’d seen you, he was mesmerised and shocked. Shocked because you were really here and mesmerised because you looked even more beautiful than before. He touched your cheeks delicately, making sure you were really here and not another one of his hallucinations. And then without another thought he took you into his arms and held you tight and closer to him, now promising himself to never let you go. All the feelings he still had for you, tripled. His heart rumbled in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Even after all this time, he was still so in love with you.
“No need to tell me where you were. Because I already know.” You were tearing up as you finally felt complete in his arms and realised how much you loved him.
“Don’t ever leave me like that again.” He said as he was starting to tear up too. He loved you so much and the thought of being apart once again was killing him.
“I won’t. Ever again. I promise.”
-
It didn’t take long for Satoru to tell you how he felt after you came back. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Every moment that he didn’t get to call you his, chipped his heart. Both Shoko and Suguru were growing tired of it, encouraging him to just say it because they were sure you felt the same. He tried to ignore them, not wanting to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help but think about how amazing it would feel if you told him you loved him back.
You came over to Satoru’s for dinner that night, Suguru insisted that they all missed you too much to go out to a restaurant. After dinner and catching up with everyone, you and Satoru excused yourselves and walked out in the garden. His hands were in his pockets, unable to look at you for more than a few seconds at a time. He’s been practicing what to say to you since years and yet, he still felt unprepared.
You were walking silently beside him, taking in the silence and calmness of the life you’re living now. You no longer had to worry about anything, just the day to day necessities, and your feelings for Satoru. Subconsciously, you intertwined your fingers with his snuggling up to his side for some warmth.
He froze for a moment. This is it, he thought, this is the perfect moment. So before he lost his confidence, he spoke, “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”
“Yes, Toru?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. “What is it?”
There it was. He missed it. He missed the way you called him ‘Toru’. And now finally hearing it from you made his heart skip many beats.
He held you in your place, stopping in the middle of a field of flowers. The moon illuminated one side of your face, showing off your perfect features. Satoru smiled, reaching over to caress your cheekbone. With tears in his eyes, he said, “I love you.”
You gasped softly, looking up at him, “What?”
“I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Satoru sighed, connecting his forehead with yours. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breathy laugh, “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”
You slowly brought your hand to his face and cupped his cheek as he melted in your touch. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I was afraid of what you'd say. I didn't want to ruin our friendship and lose you. I just thought that maybe if you didn't love me like that, I'd still have you. Even if it's just as your best friend."
"Then why now?" you asked, you voice getting even quieter. He kissed the palm of your hand as he met your eyes.
"Because after all those years of crushing on you, all those months of not being able to see you or be in your arms, made me realise how much in love I was with you. All those six months, you consumed all of my thoughts, your laughter was all I could hear in my silent nights, your smile was all I could see everywhere I went. And not being able to tell you how much I loved you was killing me." He finished, tears flowing uncontrollably from his eyes.
You didn't know when your eyes started tearing up. All you knew was how much you loved him at this moment. Him confessing all his feelings for you, so vulnerably. It made you realise how much you just wanted to hold him and never let him go.
So you said, "I'm in love with you too, Satoru."
At first he thought his ears were playing tricks on him. You loved him back? His eyes shot open, pulling away from you as he stared at you in disbelief. “Y-you love me?”
"Yes, you idiot." You chuckled through your tears, pulling him closer. Your lips ghosted over his, causing him to shiver. "I've been in love with you for a really long time as well."
"I'm really an idiot, aren't I?" he said, laughing a little.
"Yes, you are. But you're my idiot."
And with that, he kissed you. All those years where he hid his feelings came pouring out in this one kiss. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his like there was any more space between the two of you to close. Your arms looped around his neck, his one hand snaked down to your waist to steady you while one still remained on your cheek. He kissed you, pouring in all his regrets, mistakes, apprehensions, into his love, no longer wanting to pass up an opportunity to love you for the rest of his life.
And when he pulled back for air, he had the biggest smile on his face. "I'm the luckiest man on this earth." You pecked him again as you gave him your biggest grin.
On your way back home, you could feel it, you could hear it in the silence, you could see it with the lights out in the garden. It lingered between you two, suffocating you but it was the best feeling ever. Gojo Satoru is in love with you. You are in love.
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bangchansgirlsblog · 4 months
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Keeping up with the Bhangs
This is a one shot from the little series. Read it if you would like it’s on my master list :))
Warning: Angst
Pairing: Bangchan x reader
Summary: Being a mum is hard when you have to constantly play good cop, bad cop.
**
"Chan?" She called for her husband. "Chan come look at what your daughter did!" Y/n called again. The sight infront of her was painful. Her little girl was stood in the middle of the room looking so innocent but she had created a huge train wreck around her. She couldn’t believe it.
She tried to keep her cool, she really did but she couldn’t. She heard the quiet footsteps making their way up towards their daughters room. Her anger was being tested and she felt like she was about to blow.
"What is it Y/n? I have a really important-" he paused when he looked up from his phone as he stared at the sight in front of him. "What the hell?" He let out a gasp.
The room was a mess. There was paint everywhere and crayons all over the wall. The collections of toys chan had gotten Soo-min where spread all over the place and her clothers (Soo-min) was covered in dirt, paint and crayons as she stood there looking innocent with the crayon in her hand. 
"Chan look what your daughter did!" Y/n raised her voice a little causing Soo-min to jump. She took little steps quickly to hide behind her father who was now standing fully in the room. It had been obvious she was scolded before this because her little hands were shaking and her lips were quivering.
Chans eyes soften as he loosened the tie that wrapped around his neck and unbuttoned his shirt. He was determined to keep his wife calm and fix whatever was going on. If he had time of course.
"Hey, Y/n calm down. Don’t stress out baby. Its okay," He picked up his little girl with one hand trying to remove the paint of her face. Her eyes on the verge of tears as she pouted. "We can just get the cleaners to clean it-"
Chan being calm about the whole situation pissed of Y/n to the fullest because why was he so put together? Why was he such a good calm dad.
"Chan! you dont get it! this is not okay, she constantly disobeys, this is a huge mess! i left her for only a few minutes!" Y/n groaned frustrated as she threw the cups she had collected from the ground into a basket. 
"Y/n, its fine. She's a baby-" the glare Y/n gave him instantly made him shut up and look at his little girl that was basically holding onto his shirt for dear life. 
"M' sorry," Soo-min chocked on her sobs as tears started to spill and she Sniffed. She didn’t understand why her mum was being so scary. She only wanted to draw to make her happy cause she knew how sad she had been.
Chans heart melted at her little pout.
"Its okay mama, no need to cry. Daddy's got you," Chan wiped the tears from her cheeks and grabbed the crayon and paint brush from her tiny little hands. "Y/n look what you've done, now she's crying."
"Chan you cant honestly think this is okay-" Y/n was buffled. Chan didn't think this was okay, did he?
"she's a kid! kids make mistakes, she's still learning. You don't scold her, you teach her," His voice was now loud aswell. He was getting frustrated. He didnt want his children growing up in a toxic enviroment where they get yelled at or abused. That was his worst nightmare. 
“Then fine! You raise them if ur such a good teacher,”
“I don’t have time for this Y/n I have a big meeting coming-“
“Of course you fucking do, why don’t you just move into your office and abandon your kids and pregnant wife!”
Her blood was boiling. It was like she was getting everything off her chest and she needed it.
“Y/n that’s enough. Your acting like a child in front of her!” Chan growled. “You can’t even control this situation without calling and crying for me,” his chest was moving up and down as he was huffing. Trying so hard to control himself but he was stressed and tired and it was like she wanted to pick a fight every chance she got.
"Chan! why do you always have to be good cop. Why cant you see this is wrong? Stop being a bad parent and-'
"Bad parent?" He scoffs and looked up at her buffled, "I'm the bad parent? just cause you were abused when you were younger doesn't mean you have to put your trauma on my children..." His eyes go wide. He didn't mean it. He was just angry. He didn't mean any of it. 
The tension in the air wise thick. The shocked gasp that left her mouth was painful. Her head started to spin. Her eyes turning red as her body started to overheat. The emotions she felt were overwhelming. A panic attack was coming on. Her eyes landed on her daughter, the little girl was covering her ears trying to cover her face in her fathers chest. Was she a monster?
"Papa? no fighting," The little girl squealed as she still continued to cover her ears. This made Y/n's heart break. was it true? was she becoming her toxic mother. 
 "It's okay mama," He comforted her shivering body, "I-Im going to get her changed so i can go back to my meeting. I'll tell the maids to come clean up," he so badly wanted to hold his wife and apologize but with the way she stood in one place he knew he couldn't have the conversation, well not right now. 
The door closed behind him as her little girls sniffles slowly faded in the distance. Y/n was in shock. Her brain was taking long to react. Her hands were cold and all of a sudden she couldnt hear anything around her.
Was she the problem? Was she being hard on the kids? she never yelled at any of them unless they did something horrible, she never intended for the father of her kids to call her toxic. To embarrass her like that.
It was too much, she was done playing tough guy. she was tired of the constant fight of depression. She was tired of her husband degrading her as she stayed home while he was out all night partying doing God knows what. 
She wanted her life back. she wanted to be fun again. She didnt want to be tired all the time. She was tired of being pregnant.
Her face felt wet. Her hands automatically covering her eyes. Heart wrenching sobs leaving her body as she placed a hand on her belly. The doubt of being a mother was creeping back up. The sudden urge to run away and dissapear haunted her conscious. Truth is she was tired of the fake smiles and the big parties and important business people.
Yes, she loved the big house her husband built for them, she loved the grand cars and the golden credit cards but she wanted to feel again. She wanted to be loved again. By her husband. She wanted to be a teenager again, falling in love and being young and free.
She laid on the called floor. Her arms supporting the heavy bump she was carrying. The tiled sending shivers down her spine. The tears still spilling from her eyes until eventually she grew tired and fell asleep.
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steddiehyperfixation · 5 months
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don't you forget about me (part six)
(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)
Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 
Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 
They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 
“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 
“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 
“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 
Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 
Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 
He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 
When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 
Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 
“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 
“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 
Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 
Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 
“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 
Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 
“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 
“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.
“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 
“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 
“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 
“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 
“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 
“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 
“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”
“Because I was stressing him out!” 
“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 
“That literally doesn’t-” 
“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 
He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 
“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”
Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”
“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 
“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 
Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”
“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 
“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 
“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 
“God, okay, I get it!”
“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 
“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 
“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”
He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 
Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 
That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.
Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 
Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 
Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 
Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 
They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 
Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.
~
Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”
Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 
“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 
It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”
“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 
“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 
“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 
A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 
Eddie blinks at him. “What?”
“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 
Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 
Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 
Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 
“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”
Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.
Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”
“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 
“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.
Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 
“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 
“What?” 
“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 
“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 
Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 
When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 
And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.
(part seven)
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PREACHERS DAUGHTER- P.B PARKER
Pairing: Best Friend! Peter x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: you and peter were complete opposites, you the goodie two shoes preachers daughter, him the bad boy next door. yet fate has pulled the two of you together, and you can’t help but feel a certain lust for him.
Warnings: ORAL (fem), teasing, kissing, marking, pet names, best friends falling in luvvv, swearing, weed involved, booze mentioned, praise kink, masturabtion mentioned, lotsss of dirty talk, peter blowing smoke into reader mouth
based of the album- preachers daughter, by ethel cain
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It was mesmerizing- the way his fingers moved. 
You felt as if you were under a trance, the watch on the chain swinging back in forth in front of your eyes, hypnotizing you. 
His rings, silver and shining in the pale moonlight the clock hands, the veins that ran up his wrists acted as the numbers that blurred together after some time. 
Each component drew you in as his fingers strummed each string, moving up and down the fingerboard to play each chord, a sweet melody emerging from the instrument. 
Your mind was far, far off from the homework you swore to yourself you would be doing tonight, despite having your best friend over. You knew you couldn't focus on anything but him, yet you let him slip through your window, with the cracked and peeling paint you refused to paint over- because you and Peter were the reason for its damage. 
You refused to change anything he had touched or wrecked, whether that be the broken dresser handle that was hanging on for dear life, or the jumble of photos the two of you had pasted on your walls while drunk out of your minds.
 They looked awful, all crooked and cluttered to fuck, but you didn’t touch them. 
Refused to. If Peter placed them there, that's where they stayed. 
You looked up at them now, gaze focusing on the smiling faces that stared back at you, that watched over your every move- in a comforting sense. Their presence lingered, as you peered back over to Peter, following the sound of strum from the strings, the sound coming to a screeching halt as he suddenly fished for something in his ripped jean pocket. 
He was so beautiful when he was concentrated. 
The subtlety bite of his lip, pearly whites tugging on the flesh with a sense of urgency as his jaw would clench. The way his messy, slightly ruffled russet hair would fall in front of his eyes, rings glimmering as he slid his hand through the locks to push it back into place. 
You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, wanted to tug on them to make him hiss in pleasure, the way he did the one night he had decided to use your thighs as a pillow. Peter's reaction was tenuous, a slight growl escaping from the cage of his clenched teeth.
 You noticed, though. You always noticed, when it came to him. 
“Bunny? You want one?” he asked softly, pre-rolled in blunt twirling between his large fingers, making you stare in awe. 
“Bun?” 
Oh shit, you were staring. 
“N-no Pete it’s okay. I’m good for now.” you smiled, a heat rising to your cheeks as you forced yourself to stare back down at your tattered notebook filled with scribbles and numbers you had no clue what to do with.
 It was better than looking at his fingers and getting caught again. 
Anything was. 
“Alright pretty but you let me know if you want one okay? Your asshole of a father won't find out, if that's what you're worried about.” he chuckled softly, throwing you a wink as he toyed with the drug, a cat with its dinner.
 Of course that's what you were worried about. You were the minister's daughter, a holy saint if there ever was one. The good girl, your father's little angel. 
We have a reputation to uphold Y/L/N. Don't mess it up, or there'll be consequences. Big ones. 
You had followed his words as he did with passages in that dog-eared bible of his, the rosemary beads sprawled out as a bookmark for his pages. 
So, how in the world did Peter Parker- the boy wrapped in sin your father warned you about, end up as your best friend, the man you trusted with your life? You didn't know, but you were thankful for it. 
It made you laugh every time Peter offered you a smoke, he knew your answer had never changed, yet he always offered anyways. He was sweet that way. It was different with weed, you supposed. 
You were always terrified your father would be able to see right through you, be able to sniff the drugs on you like a hound dog. You made excuses for booze. 
Your father provided red wine during Sunday services, the blood of the lord for all to taste, cannibalism in its cleanest, purest form. Counting on two hands the number of times you and Peter had snuck into the old, gothic church your father managed, getting drunk off the wine in the wooden pews under the stained glass windows was impossible. 
You watched as Peter leaned his guitar against the windowsill, grabbing a lighter from his other pocket, the snake tattoos curled and wrapped along his finger seeming to hiss at you in the dim light of your room. 
“Peter?” you called, making his head snap up, the fire from his light diminishing as fast as it came. “C-can I light it for you?” you asked shyly, watching as that boyish grin that you loved so much came to his face, dimples appearing as he took you in, realizing you were serious. 
“You wanna be an angel and help me out eh?” he teased, making you nod frantically. 
Angel. 
The words alone had your toes curling in your thigh-high socks you knew Peter adored, his fingers always seeming to toy with the little black bows whenever he got the chance. He towered over you even more than he already did as he stood, making his way over to where your body was lounging on the ruffled white sheets. 
“Dad’s not home ya know. I forgot about that.” you tugged on your inner cheek, watching as Peter dropped to his knees before you, like a devil about to spread its wings. 
Begging for mercy before you. 
“Does that mean you do wanna hit then?” he asked, blunt between his teeth as your thumb flicked the flame to life, watching the blues and oranges crackle as you lit his joint. 
“Don’t know how.” you shrugged, watching as he exhaled, the sweet sickly smell of weed filling your senses as he exhaled.
 “We can try something if you want bunny. D’trust me?” You nodded, eager to obey his commands. He smiled, rings cold against your chin as he grabbed it lightly, the pads of his fingers slightly calloused from the strings. 
“Say ahh bunny.” You opened your mouth widely, the smoke he had inhaled floating into your mouth as he exhaled, fogging up your lungs. He was so close you could hear the thud of his heartbeat, could feel the soft heat rolling off him in waves to soothe you in a gentle embrace. 
“Atta girl!” he laughed as you felt the sticky taste coat the back of your throat, mouth turning dry as the Saraha.
 “Peter this tastes like shit.” you groaned, coughing and sputtering as he gently slapped your arm. “No swearing. Or else I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” he teased, making you burst out in laughter as he rolled onto the bed, smooshing your lower half with his bodyweight- making you groan as his head lolled. 
You felt your skin warm to the touch with how close he was to you, your legs parted slightly so he could wedge his way between them and rest on you. 
“I gotta do my homework silly.” you smiled as he took another puff, his eyes turning a fair shade of red as he watched the smoke slither upwards.
 “I can be your study buddy if ya want.” 
“I’d get no work done if you were my study buddy. You distract me too much.” you teased, giggling as his hand reached over to tickle your thigh gently. “We’d make such a great team. We could be on the mathletes together bunny.” 
You rolled your eyes at his sly commentary, a hand slipping through the soft, messy tumbles of his hair as he sighed in happiness. Nails began to scratch his scalp soothingly, and his chest began to rumble- purring like a cat as you tended to him. 
Just as you wanted. 
The curtains rustled in the breeze that snaked through the cracked window goosebumps appearing on your bare skin as the papes blew. You looked out through the glass, scoping out the graves that surrounded your house. 
You could map out the entire cemetery as you had lived in this old, creaking house your entire life- could picture every little twisted path and old rusting benches that were scattered. It was peaceful here, the only real company consisted of the ghosts and Peter when he came over to visit. 
Your father was never really present, too busy with the works of the church than his own flesh and blood.
 It was an easy silence between the two of you, one you enjoyed immensely. It was different than the other silences you had dealt with in your lifetime- long and uncomfortable. With Peter, they were pleasant and easy, a place where you could be in your own thoughts and not feel bad about it. 
You were lost in them now, as you looked down at him. 
He’s never looked so beautiful. How did I get so lucky- to score him as my best friend? 
Continuing your head scratches, you let your head lull against the headboard, closing your eyes to tune out the world. He continued to smoke, hand resting on your thigh with each inhale. 
“You got somewhere I can put this angel?” he asked, hand waving as he gestured to the stump of the blunt, the weed diminishing. You hadn't realized how much time had passed, the hands on the clock hoping forward since the last time you had looked over at them. 
“Over there is fine.” you pointed to the little dish on the dresser you had left for him whenever he was over, degrading it whenever your father returned home. 
You didn't comment on how much Peter had smoked, just as you didn't comment on how much whisky your father drank whenever he got mad. 
You didn't care enough. 
He shuffled up, puffing the remainder towards you, the smoke cascading around your cheeks, tickling your eyelashes as the old bed creaked. 
“You’re such a doll, you know that?” You smiled. 
“Maybe. It's not like you tell me allll the time or anything.” you teased, poking fun at how sweet he was to you. No one was as ever kind to you as Peter was. It made your insides tingle, made your skin all sensitive to the touch. 
He smiled that cheeky grin that drove you wild, tapping the ash into the dish before he crushed it with his fingers, rings glittering in the soft candlelight. Your homework was long forgotten at this point, your attention solely focused on the beautiful angel of a man that stood before you at the foot of your bed. 
“Hi.” you waved to him, his hand raising to wave back from across the room. 
“Hi bunny.”
 “Cmere.” you insisted, and he smirked as he crawled onto the bed, the look in his eye hungry as he took you in. You looked at him now, really looked at him as his strong arms slid to each side of you, caging you in his hold. 
He was black and blue, the beautiful melancholy shades in between. The way he loved was different than anything you had experienced before. It was scary, a freefall into the depths of the icy water you were scared to tread. But it was numbing- the way he cared. 
A soft and sweet energy, that pricked you gently like pins and needles. His breath was warm as he refused to break eye contact and you wanted to shrink into the depths of the mattress as you felt yourself cave. 
“I bet you taste so good.” he confessed softly, his words making you shudder with delight. 
You knew where this was going. It was heading down the old beaten path the two of you had stumbled down so many times, when you were both drunk off sin in the walls of the church. 
You liked it. 
“Yeah?”
 “Yeah angel. Mmm god I think about tasting you all the time, your skin, your lips, your fingertips..” he trailed off, head dropping down to your chest, rubbing his nose against the skin of your collarbone. 
You felt your hips wriggle, wetness seeping into your panties. “What do you think they taste like?” you sighed as his teeth gently grazed you, biting into your flesh to mark it as his own. 
“Like cinnamon n sugar. So. Fuckin. Sweet.” he kissed your neck between each word as you gigged softly, his plump lips making you squirm. 
“You’re so addicting baby. The things I wanna do to you…” he smirked, licking a stipe where your silky nightgown dipped, revealing the slight curve of your breasts. 
Heels were dug into the ruffled sheets, the sound of your books falling to the hardwood below echoed as the strong breeze brushed you again. No amount of wind could chill the fire that was burning in your veins right now. 
“But we can’t do them. Cause we’re best friends.” you pouted, running your fingers along the back of his neck, curving them around to trace each vein that pulsed as he shivered. 
“Who says?” he whispered, like he was in a trance, and you felt your dress being pushed up, up, up to pool around your waist, your stomach exposed as his head dipped down towards it. 
“Best friends do everything together bunny. Don't you think about me like I think about you?” he asked mischievously and you nodded frantically.
 “Mmm sometimes.”
 “Cause I think about you alll the time. Think about how good you’d be for me when I’m strokin my dick.” he confessed, shuffling down to trail kisses across your stomach, your legs spreading wider as he found his home between them. 
“Y-yeah?” you whimpered, heart beating so fast you heard the blood racing in your ears, his voice sounding distant. It was hard to focus, but at the same time it was hard to focus on anything but him. 
The human body was a funny thing, sometimes. How yours could bend and contract to his will at the whisper of his voice, at the touch of his skin.
 “Mmm yeah. You make me wanna do such bad bad things. But you’re too sweet for that.” 
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. 
“Peter-” 
“Can I tase you? Please? Just a lil lick, I swear.” 
You moaned at his words alone. How did they sound so sweet, so innocent when there was so much filth behind them? You could never say no to him.
 Never. 
“Please.” you urged, the chill breeze making you tremble as he removed your thong, your knees bent slightly over his shoulders. It happened in a blur, time seeming to jump and snap back again as he had you under his thumb, hanging onto every word he said. 
The first lick sent you into overdrive, body shifting up gears as you crude out his name- hands tugging at his strands of hair as if they were reins. The faint scent of weed trickled through your nose, blemishing your skin and sweat as it trickled. 
You couldn't think. Couldn't move, couldn't speak. 
You and Peter had fooled around before but this…this was new territory. And it felt good. A lick turned into a taste as you heard him growl, tongue stroking through your sensitive folds again. 
“You- you said just a taste-” you panted out, hips thrusting against him as he chuckled.
 “I lied. You should've known.” he teased, eyes meeting yours again- stare so intense you had to look away. 
It was frightening- the eye contact. It was an endless void, a freefall you weren't sure if you'd have a hand to catch you. It was filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, a haziness that made you feel sluggish, like you had drank too much cheap booze, and smoked too many cigarettes. 
You were as breathless as the summer's night outside as he dived back in, malnourished and needy as he devoured you. His lips suctioned around your clit, sucking it sweetly as you wethered and moaned. 
“So so sweet…” he murmured. You felt yourself snap under him as his tongue pushed you over the edge, releasing onto his face as you cried out. His hands tightened their grip around the barricade of your thighs, chin gleaming with your juices as your body shuddered from the aftershocks. 
“That's a girl. My sweet sweet angel.” he sang out, shuffling up to kiss your lips gently, the taste of yourself staining your mouth. You savored his affections, wrapping your arms around his neck, desperate for something to cling to. 
You were scared to let him go, scared he would leave you vulnerable and open like all the others. He sensed your hesitation, rolling over to the side of you, nuzzling his head into your neck as you continued to hold him close. 
“Was I good?” you asked meekly, your biggest fear not being enough for him. 
He just smiled. 
“More than good. The best.” he whispered, kissing your skin. You exhaled a sigh of relief, tension seeping from your bones as you cradled him. 
You heard an owl coo out from the branches of the old oak tree that scratched your house, the wind howling against the old siding. You basked in the emptiness of the room, no one here but the two of you and the peeling posters that peered down at you from the walls.
 He wasn't leaving you. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed and he was staying with you. He wanted to do this. 
It was hard to think about, hard to wrap your head around it as you had been so shameful of your desires towards him for so long. The old wooden cross that was hung above your bed seemed almost mocking as it reflected in your vanity mirror, a symbol of overcoming sin now with a meaning diminished. 
“You awake?” you asked Peter softly, ripping your eyes from the wood, knowing your father's words would haunt you the longer you were left to your own avail.
 There were so many responses you wanted to spew out to him. 
God loves you- but not enough to save you. 
But you didn’t, to save yourself the abuse of his wrath. 
“Mmm.” he mumbled sleepy, the weed putting him a place of serenity and calm as he synced his breathing with yours. “Did you want me to return the favor?” you mumbled, feeling bad he didn't get the same opportunity you did. 
He just shook his head. “Another time angel. Let me just… lie with you. I like when I just get to be with you like this.” he yawned, bed creaking as he slung his arm around your waist to pull you closer.
 “Okay. Whatever you want.” 
Silence. 
You sighed, flexing your feet, then pointing your toes. The red polish glimmered as the shadows of the wax dripping off the candles bounced off the walls, the smell of the incessant to “hide” the weed smelling of sandalwood. 
A truck rumbled in the distance, its tires rolling against the gravel. Peter sat up, eyes flickering to the headlights that beamed towards the house, making you feel anxious as you clung to the bedsheet. 
Was your father home early? He wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow night, and you knew if he walked in on you and Peter- you’d never hear the end of it. 
“Is he home?” Peter shook his head as he moved towards the window, and you readjusted your nightgown. His hair was messy and rumpled as he stood, hands resting on the windowsill as he peered down.
 A grin was on his face as he turned back to face you, your heartbeat slowing its dangerous pace with an exhale. 
He wasn't home. Or else Peter wouldn't be smiling. 
“Well? Who the hell is at my house at-” Your eyes flickered back to the clock. “Eleven at night?” 
Peter just shrugged, a cheeky look on his face as he walked towards the bedroom door, grip on the brass handle tightening as he swung it wide open. 
You heard the front door open, two familiar voices echoing from down the hallway. 
Bucky and Steve. 
“Look who decided to pay us a visit!” Peter laughed, making you shake your head with a smile. 
Look who decided to visit indeed. 
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nickfowlerrr · 11 months
Text
the truth is this
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pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (friends to lovers)
warnings: fluff, kissing, very slightly edging on heavy petting, mention of an erection, no smut but still 18+ only.
words: 2.9k
notes: loosely based on these prompts: platonic forehead kisses starting to give u the feels. LIKE ITS SOMETHING MAGICAL. and "is that really all 'A' is to you?" thank you so much to @anthony-sharma for the request! thank you in advance for reading and as always, feedback and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated!
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"So you're telling me you didn't notice the way she was looking at you just now?" Sam asked skeptically.
"I'm telling you I have no idea what you're talking about," Bucky rebuffed, his brows furrowing in agitation.
"Well I do know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about you and her finally pulling your heads out of your asses and realizing you like each other."
"No shit we like each other, Sam. She's one of my best friends."
"Is that really all she is to you?" he questioned pointedly.
Bucky stopped in his retreat as he took in Sam's words. He instantly knew his answer, but still told himself had to think about it. Because although his thoughts were flowing with all of the things you were to him, all things that went way beyond the scope of just friendship, he was still too scared to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else.
Sam watched as Bucky swallowed hard, his jaw tightening and brows furrowed even more. It looked as if he was blinking away his thoughts when he finally looked back at Sam. An annoyed look taking over his features once again. He didn't say anything, just grumbled in response before he continued out of the room.
For nearly three hours after the little confrontation he had with Sam, Bucky raged with himself in the privacy of his own room. His head was swirling and he could barely keep track of what part of him was winning the argument until a knock came on his door.
Not just any knock, your knock. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was expecting you, he had just lost track of time with the internal struggle he had been trying to sort out.
Something changed, though, when he heard you. All thoughts of not acknowledging his feelings, in part to not wreck what he already had with you, went right out the window.. kinda.
He could accept the true depth of his feelings for you, but he'd be damned if he spoke them aloud until he knew that there'd be no shot at hurting your friendship if you didn't feel the same.
Sam's words came back to him as he considered that you didn't. The way she looked at you...
How had you looked at him? Were all the signs there and he was just blind to them? Well, he'd be sure to pay close attention tonight. See if he could see what Sam saw.
He got to the door and opened it for you, greeting you with a smile as you walked into his room and instantly wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. When you pulled back ever so slightly, peering up at him with sparkling eyes, Bucky swore he felt himself get weak in the knees.
Your smile was the most beautiful thing to him. He'd do anything to get one out of you, though he really didn't have to try all that hard. Your usually stoic demeanor, or resting bitch face as Kate had called it, was rarely ever broken; but as the rest of the team noticed long ago, Bucky seemed to have a knack for breaking it quite easily.
It was like you just couldn't help your smile when he was around. You'd always get more talkative and seemed a lot more approachable than when you were alone. It wasn't like you were a mean person, far from it, you just had a bit of an intimidating presence most of the time. You were a quiet person and weren't typically the most open. It wasn't something you put on, it was just your natural disposition. One of the reasons you and Bucky had gotten so close so quickly was because he was one of the only people to not have been put off by your introversion; he wasn't hesitant to talk to you, in fact, the moment he had seen you, he just had this feeling that you and him would get along swell. And he was right.
He'd gone up to you and introduced himself, and you gave him your name with a small smile in return. You and Bucky had a lot in common and though it took you a little while, you soon found yourself more comfortable around Bucky than you had been with anyone else...ever.
You guys could talk for ages and never bore, or you could sit in each other's silence comfortably for hours on end, not needing anything other than each other's company.
Neither of you realized how close you had gotten or how you appeared inseparable until it started getting pointed out by everyone else.
Repeatedly.
Over and over again.
Whether it was playful jokes at your mutual expense during meetings, or pestering whispers in your ears by your friends trying to bring your attentions to what everyone else could already see, to what everyone had seen from the very start of your and Bucky's friendship: That it was so definitely more than just friendship.
He wasn't sure what it was about Sam's comments this time that finally had him taking it seriously. Maybe it was because he felt it too. And truthfully, he always had, but maybe he just couldn't keep pushing the thoughts away. Maybe... maybe it was because he knew deep down, the love he felt for you was way more than just platonic. Maybe he finally realized that he was well and truly in love with you, and maybe he had a bit of hope burning bright that you felt the same way.
Bucky collects himself as he gazes into your eyes, feeling like if he stares too long he'll lose himself to you completely. But he really doesn't think he'd mind one bit. You pretty much have him already.
"So," you breathe as you begrudgingly pull away from his warmth, "did you decide? Movie or tv show?" you ask as you step past him further into his room.
He shuts his door before turning and following you to the kitchenette where you easily find the stash of candy Bucky keeps for your "movie" nights.
"Uhhh, you pick," he says as you pass him once again, heading to the couch and throwing your stockpile of sweets on the coffee table before you as you get comfortable.
"Okay," you agree, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the titles to find something at least halfway decent to put on.
Your eyes flick over to Bucky and you realize he's still wearing the clothes he had on earlier while you're in your pajamas, like you always are on movie night.
"Why are your clothes still on?" you ask as you peer up at him from your spot on the couch.
Bucky's breath catches in his throat as his heart nearly stops beating entirely, heat rising to his cheeks. In the same moment your eyes widen as you hear yourself and your breath stutters for just a second. Why did you say it like that? you chide yourself. Wishful thinking, some other part of your brain snickers. You push the thought away. Inappropriate.
"Huh?" Bucky asks, though he heard you full well.
"I mean, you're not in your pajamas," you clarify.
"Right, yeah, I uh, I was a bit distracted before you got here," he admits as he absentmindedly rubs the back of his neck. "I'm gonna change, you put something on. I'll be right back."
Bucky changes his clothes quickly and returns to you just as you find something to put on.
You watch him enter the room and laugh as you note that you're kinda matching now. You're both in gray sweats and as you wear a black long sleeve v-neck, Bucky has on a short sleeve v-neck in the same color.
Bucky notices as you do, "I swear this wasn't on purpose," he chuckles as he settles down next to you.
You titter as you start the movie and adjust in your seat to get more comfortable. And by more comfortable, you really just meaning scooting over to be closer to Bucky.
Bucky watches you as you move to be closer to him, smiling to himself as he realizes you're trying to be cool about it, trying to not make it too obvious. It's cute, but he really doesn't mind. In fact, the closer you are the happier he is. Your thigh brushes his as you keep a bit of space between your upper body and his chest.
Bucky fights off the urge to grab your legs and pull them into his lap but he can't fight the urge he has to pull you in closer.
His arm comes around your right side as he pulls you into him. You look up at him in a bit of surprise, but he doesn't return your gaze, he keeps his eyes set on the screen before him.
You blink in wonder before you look back at the screen too. You bite your lip to keep from smiling at his unexpected action and settle into his hold, scootching closer as you recline against him and let his hand rest on the curve of your waist meeting your hip.
You feel like you’d been dropping hint after hint, purposefully, these past two weeks after a long night of talking with Sam and Nat when you were finally able to put a name to your feelings; the realization you had entirely fallen for your best friend was maybe a bit pulled out of you by them but it was true nonetheless.
You’d stopped holding yourself back the way you normally did when it came to touches and hugs lately, hoping maybe Bucky would get the hint and you wouldn’t have to say it outright.. at least not first.
Admittedly, you could feel the tiniest bit of awkwardness - or maybe tension was the better word, between you and him at the moment. Not entirely unpleasant, but still it was there. At least it had been for a minute. But soon as Bucky settled his hand on your hip, that all faded as soon as it appeared. It was completely comfortable, it felt right, being this close to him. Though, truthfully, it always felt right when Bucky around.
As you fought your smile and Bucky’s hand gently squeezed your hip unconsciously, your heart warmed. Maybe he was finally picking up on what you were trying to do and hopefully the reason why.
Sam and Nat had been sure to let you know it was obvious that he felt the same for you, but still you were nervous to come right out with it.
Slow and steady, you remind yourself. No need to rush things anyway. You’d rather him come to the same realization you had on his own time, not yours.
But god, you hoped he really felt the same.
Bucky takes a peek down at you once he feels your eyes are off of him. He smiles to himself at how perfect this is. How comfortable you both are with the more intimate touches, despite neither of you bringing it up. It just feels natural.
So natural, he isn't really thinking much when he leans down and places a gentle kiss to your forehead. When he catches himself doing it, he zeros in on your reaction to it. It's not like he hadn't done it before, but any time he had it was usually in parting, as customary for you guys as a hug.
This was clearly more intimate. A show of affection he wanted to give you, no other reason than that.
He admires the soft fluttering of your lashes and the way you lean further into him, letting your head rest on his chest.
For half a second, he sees you worry you've made a mistake as he pulls his arm from around you but when he gently takes hold of your chin and turns you to face him, time seems to stand still as you gaze at one another.
You wait with bated breath as you search his bright eyes that are gleaming down at you. He can hear the change in the rhythm of your heartbeat and as he lets his eyes flit to your lips, he swears he hears the sharp intake of air you breathe as your eyes fall to his own lips before returning to his stare.
The next thing he knows, Bucky is holding your gorgeous face in his hands before he leans in closer and takes your lips in his. It's slow and gentle as he takes his time savoring your first kiss. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers your hands on his as you return the kiss, and it quickly turns a bit more fervent. Like you've both been waiting forever for this exact moment to happen.
You pull your legs up onto the couch as you turn and move closer to Bucky. You're not thinking as you straddle his lap, the kiss only growing deeper and more intent with each second that passes.
Your hands leave Bucky's as you move them to stabilize yourself without full on sitting in his lap, one hand behind his neck and the other on the couch behind him. Bucky's own hands find their place on your hips before he pulls you down, forcing you down on his lap.
You moan into his mouth as he grabs a handful of your ass and you feel him growing slightly beneath you.
You have to break the kiss to breathe, both of you panting heavily as you press your forehead to his, nose to nose as you breathe one another in. You can't help the smile that breaks out on your face as you laugh breathily, gripping his neck as you shake your head in disbelief.
You place a soft kiss to his lips once more as he holds you to him.
"Sorry," Bucky begins, though he looks to be the furthest thing from it as he smiles that charming smile of his. "I just.. I think I've wanted to do that for a while now. It just felt right."
"You don't have to apologize," you smile softly in turn as you play with the stray hairs curled at the nape of his neck. "I think I've wanted you to do that for a while now. And it did," you breathe with a nod, "it definitely felt right."
"I wanna do more of this," he murmurs against your lips after he places another kiss to yours.
"Me too," you agree with a peck of your own. "I think I wanna make out with you," you muse.
One side of his mouth slants up in a smirk as his hands run up your sides, "I think I want you to make out with me, too," he says, amused before going in for another kiss. You both smile into it and you swear your heart is near bursting as your tummy flutters in your happiness.
"There's something I need to tell you first," he says seriously as he parts just slightly from you.
His hands rubbing up and down your back keep you from worrying as he effortlessly soothes you.
He maintains eye contact as you wait for him to continue.
"I think, - no, I know," he corrects himself. "I love you," he breathes your name as part of his confession.
You move your hand from the couch and gently hold his stubbly cheek instead, thumb rubbing over the skin of his cheek softly.
You smile again, holding his eye as you lean into him before you kiss him slow and deep, trying to get all of the things you're feeling across to him, but most namely, the main one. The love.
You part from him gently as he follows you, mindlessly chasing your lips before catching himself.
He blinks up at you as you perch over him slightly.
"I love you, too, Buck," you nearly whisper as you caress his cheek. "This doesn't change anything, ya know," you add.
He furrows his brow in slight confusion at your words.
You laugh lightly at his expression before continuing, "You're still my best friend. Nothing's gonna change that."
"Wouldn't expect it to," he smiles.
It's quiet between you for a moment before you speak again.
"Promise," you urge softly.
"Promise?"
"Promise nothing's gonna change that," you say as you look down at his chest, moving your idle hand to play with the chain you find there.
"I promise, hey" he says sincerely as he puts two fingers under your chin and has you meet his eye once more, "I promise."
"I don't wanna lose you."
"You won't," he reassures you before suddenly turning you both and flipping you on your back as he leans over you. You gaze up at him a little breathless as you titter.
"Okay," you whisper your trust, your arms reaching up to wrap around his thick neck, pulling him down closer to you.
"Okay," he echos before brushing his lips against yours once more.
The movie is long forgotten as you and Bucky spend the rest of the night completely wrapped up in one another. Talking, touching, just being with each other. The way you were always meant to. It was comfortable, easy. And you couldn't ask for more as you felt entirely whole and at peace in his strong arms promising to never let you go.
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spiderispunk · 1 year
Note
Just thinking about how Peter would totally hump the bed while he eats you out I mean what 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
Pairing: Peter Parker x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Smut [18+]. Oral Sex (F!Receiving). Multiple Orgasms. Pussy Drunk!Peter. Praise Kink. Dirty Talk.
A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble HELP!
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“Fuck, baby,” Peter groans from between your legs. He pulls away from your dripping cunt to suck down a lungful of air. 
He’d been between your thighs for the better part of forty minutes, licking, kissing, and sucking you all over. His movements teasing at first, the faintest suck of his lips against your clit, a barely-there press of his tongue between your folds. Then frenzied, urged by the hot twist of desire in his gut as he listened to the heady pleas and whimpers that dripped from your lips like saccharine honey. 
The first time you came, it was with a choked whimper of Peter’s name. The second time, a scream had wrenched its way out of your throat. The third time you nearly blacked out. Now Peter was well on his way to earning a fourth, with no sign of stopping. 
He looks absolutely sinful framed by your thighs. Dark curls a mess from your fingers. Cheeks flushed red. Spit and cum cover his swollen lips and chin in a glaze. The heavy-lidded look he gives you is lewd. A wicked grin spread over his face, a quick flash of teeth. Hickory eyes dance with mischief, and the shadow of something darker. 
Greed. Maybe even…pride.
If he looked like sin, you looked downright sacrilegious. Fucked out, yet still wanting. Hair a mess, lips parted, eyes wild. Your shirt rucked up over your heaving breasts. Bite marks and bruises covering your skin. 
It just made him want to wreck you all over again. 
“Look at ya, honey,” Peter mumbles, the words slurred. He presses opened-mouthed kisses up and down your inner thigh. 
The scrape of his beard against your soft, sensitive skin makes you shudder. “Pete,” you whine, your voice equally wrecked. 
“Hm?” His grin widens. “Something you want?” His gaze burns into yours. 
You nod, and Peter clicks his tongue. 
“Use your words, sweetheart.”  
“Please.” 
“Please what?”
“Want your mouth on me.” 
Peter raises his eyebrows. “Again? Greedy girl.” His voice is infuriatingly smug.
“It’s s’good.” You bite your bottom lip as Peter bites your thigh. He chases the sting away with gentle swipes of his tongue. 
Peter chuckles. “You really know how to stroke a man’s ego, baby.” He presses a gentle kiss to your sensitive clit. “But, since you asked so nicely…” 
Large hands grip your thighs and pull you back to his face. His lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking as he sucks gently. His eyelids flutter shut at the taste of you. Peter moans and groans, each needy sound he makes muffled by your pussy. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder to open you up more to his mouth. 
“You taste so fucking good, baby. Fuck. Could stay like this, with my mouth on you, forever.” 
Before meeting you, Peter never knew what it was like to really crave something. To want something so badly– all the time– that when you couldn’t have it you felt like a piece of you was missing. But then, he got on his knees and buried his face between your pretty thighs for the first time. Now he doesn’t know how he ever lived without that before. 
He’s addicted to you. Simple as that. Fixation pure and raw. To the taste of your cunt. To the way your hips rock and your thighs tremble when you’re getting close. The way you sigh and moan when his mouth is on you. The sharp pain of his hair being tugged between your eager fingers. All of it.  
He can never get enough of it. 
Peter’s fingers dig into your thighs, nails biting shallow crescents into the skin. He licks you up and down, savoring the taste of the three prior orgasms. He swears he can taste the beginnings of the impending fourth.
His tongue slides into your entrance, thrusting in and out as if he’s trying to bury himself in you however he can. You’re gushing on his face, uninhibited. Each slide of his tongue brings a new wave of wetness. 
His nose nudges against your clit, and he inhales deeply. God you smell so fucking good. 
“Oh shit,” you whine. You thread your fingers through his hair, using your grip as leverage to rock your hips up against his mouth. “Don’t stop. Fuck, that’s it, Peter. God.” 
Your praise is music to his fucking ears. It makes his cock twitch in his sweatpants. He thrusts his hips, desperate for some relief from the ache that’s been building for almost an hour. He groans at the friction, eyes rolling into the back of his head. 
It feels so good. No. Hopped up as he is on desire and the warmth of your pussy, it feels like fucking heaven. 
He sneaks a hand down past the waistband of his sweatpants to squeeze his cock. Precum beads at the head of it, staining his sweats. Fuck, he could come in his pants, like a damn teenager, just from this. From you. 
Lewd noises fill the room. Mingled moans and sighs of pleasure. The frenzied smack of his lips against your pussy. And now, the creak of bed springs as Peter thrusts wantonly into the soft mattress. 
You’re floating on Cloud 9. Body humming with the tell-tale signs of your orgasm creeping up on you. Whimpers fall from your lips freely, your chest heaves. Your thighs tighten around Peter’s head, holding him in place as you chase the high that’s floating above you, just a breath away. 
“Look at me,” Peter pulls away for just a moment. “C’mon, baby. Look. Watch me make you feel good.” 
It takes all your remaining strength to slide your eyes to his. They’re intense. Almost black with lust. 
You hold his scorching gaze, let the fire in his eyes burn into your soul, spread through your blood and render your body to ashes. 
Peter wraps his lips around your clit once more, head moving side to side, and it’s all over. You come with a wail, hips bucking and thrashing. He wraps an arm around your waist and holds you in place, wedged against his lips. Determined to drink down every last drop that you give to him. Wanting to drown in your perfect pussy.
Your back arches off of the bed. Ecstasy shooting through every inch of your body. Your heartbeat thrums loudly in your ears, so loudly that you almost don’t hear Peter’s panting as he himself comes undone. 
But you do. Amidst the stilted exhales, you hear the quiet mumbling of your name. 
Peter’s hips rock faster. So close to the glorious edge he can feel the tingling in his lower stomach. His shoulders flex under his shirt, biceps curling, and then his whole body tenses. Peter lets out a strangled cry. And then he comes. Hard. Like really, earth shatteringly, hard. His entire world flips upside down with the intensity of it. 
Five minutes pass before he’s able to string together a coherent thought, and when he finally can, his first thought is of you. 
“Hey, baby,” he whispers, pillowing his head on your thigh. “You okay?” 
“Uh huh.” More than okay. “Fucked out and tired, but okay. C’mere.”
He forces his jellied limbs to move, and crawls so he’s resting on top of you. You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip, playing with the evidence of your arousal. 
A grin spreads over your face. “You made a mess.” 
“Drove me fucking wild. Couldn’t help it.” Peter smirks. “Wanna taste?”
You kiss him stupid in response. 
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