HELLO welcome, on this tumblr I dedicate myself to writing stories about male readers. The fandoms I write for are: #Supernatural #Teen wolf #Shadowhunters #Vampire Diaries #The Originals #Marvel #DC #Scream queens #American Horror Story #Riverdale #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #iZOMBIE #Disney Boys #Stranger things #Van Helsing #Lucifer #Grey's Anatomy #Glee #9-1-1 #Brooklyn nine nine #The boys #Modern-family #Sex education #Fate: The Winx Saga #The hunger games #Maze runner #The Witcher #Heartstopper #Reacher #The X-Files #Z Nation #Merlin #Doctor Who #Desperate Housewives #TrueBlood
summary: peter struggles to balance between life and work, and it's ruining his relationship with you.
wc: 6.6k.
genre: smut.
warnings: andrew!peter, college au, established relationship, brief fighting, brief injury and blood mention (nosebleed), misunderstandings, peter reveals his identity, dry-humping, over the pants (or suit) handjob, body worshipping, lots of sweat, fingering, frotting, riding, spandex fetish, reader has a thing for peter in his spider-man suit!
You were starting to feel antsy. You could feel it—the nerves kicking in again. Anticipation—a suspension of doubt—made your hands clammy at first, but it was the time that made your hands clutch nothing but air. You rubbed the sweat off your hands onto your pants, your knees not so comforting with their pointedness.
Acceptance—when it was evident that Peter was late, again.
Birthdays have never been a big deal in your family. Sure, it was great that you had the privilege to live another year. To witness yourself grow older, to stand a few inches taller, to live a little more knowledgeable than yesterday. But growing up with parents who had to constantly work, well-late into the depths of night, it had never been more than a birthday wish that had greeted you in the mornings, and bid you slumber in the evenings. Since then, you knew not to expect anything.
If only Peter hadn’t made such a big deal out of it this year.
“Excuse me?” The familiar timbre of a voice speared your thoughts; deep and tunneling as you were transfixed on the glasses of water before you. Yours had been refilled, though a little sparse compared to Peter’s full cup.
Your eyes widened with feigned curiosity, a small smile plastered alongside to hopefully negate any annoyance from the waiter—because you expected what he was about to follow up with.
“Hey… uh,” he shifted on his feet awkwardly, eye bags weighing heavier than the last time he had checked up on you. You looked around, surprised by the amount of patrons who had filled the space around you while you were daydreaming. Laughter and smiles completely lit up the room. The dim lights were practically stationed in the restaurant for decoration, and seemingly to spotlight your ‘dinner for one’ status. “I’m sorry, but… we have no more tables to fill, and if you aren’t ordering soon, then we’ll have to give your table up for the next party...”
It was obvious that you weren’t, you hadn’t even torn into the buttery bread rolls that were piping hot forty-five minutes ago. Now, the fat had solidified into spotty, yellow clumps, though you doubt that would’ve been enough to detract from the quality of the rolls.
“Oh, I—“ You pulled out your phone to check your messages again. Nothing. Swiped down to refresh your conversation with Peter. The loading icon felt like it took forever, you half-expected that your phone was updating the thread with Peter’s messages that somehow got lost in the void of the restaurant’s spotty signal.
And nothing.
“I—yeah… uh. I-I’ll head out.” It was embarrassing. Even if the waiter had given you a sympathetic smile, you hated knowing that you wasted his time. You hated that you selfishly occupied a seat when someone else would’ve been done with dinner by the time you exited.
“Thanks—”
You hated that you had your hopes up for things to be different.
Again.
The night was dreary. Not even the wind had greeted you like the others when you stepped out. Soft and fluttering against your skin, but scolding enough to make you put your coat back on. Luckily, your apartment wasn’t too far from the restaurant, a fifteen minute walk at most if you speed-walked. Shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you then ambled along the sidewalks, wallowing in your feelings with a playlist that belted in your ears once you plugged your earbuds in.
You didn’t have the energy left to hurry home.
Once you crossed the last intersection, you felt a little bit more at ease. Seeing the familiar apartment complex at the end of the block picked your pace up a step more. You paused your music once you neared the entrance, just a turn away before you could finally bury yourself in your bed.
You reached into your pocket to grab your wallet. The weight in your palms instantly reminding you to deposit the cash tips sometime soon before the stretch of the leather had become unbearable to fit in your pocket.
Your walk slowed as your attention was fixated on your wallet, fumbling it open clumsily to retrieve your keycard. In midst, you caught a glimpse of a photo print of you and Peter, standing shoulder to shoulder with the biggest grins as Peter had a peace sign above your head, doubling as bunny ears. Honeymoon phase, they’d call it. Where you were beginning to discover more about Peter, and Peter was beginning to discover more about you. Likes. Dislikes. Hobbies. Memories. It felt like yesterday when you two were spending every second of your day with each other.
Now, it would be a miracle if Peter returned a call.
With the keycard in your hand, you turned the corner, and towards the entrance, the smiles from the photo print reflecting onto yours as you could vividly hear Peter’s pleas to retake them again. The flash of the cameras always made him blink.
If only you had been focusing on where you were going instead of the still image of the first memory between you and Peter, maybe you could have avoided the collision altogether when you approached the door. You suddenly found yourself on your back, facing the night sky as clusters of stars twinkled in laughter. There was a slight throbbing to your forehead, a mark you’d reckon would appear as purple within the next 12 hours despite the painless… pain.
“Oh god— I’m so, so, so, sorry! Let me—“ If the beating your face took to the door hadn’t snapped you back to reality already, the familiar face before you certainly pulled you out of your thoughts like whiplash once he helped you back onto your feet. Your vision instantly cleared of haze, as if his simple presence was your remedy.
“(M/N)?” Peter interrupted himself, his eyes widening. You could see the wheels turning in his head when the dim light spotlighted your features: eyes, nose, lips; flesh and bone that he was well-acquainted with.
“Peter—“ You took a moment to scan him. It was like all the other times he had been late. His fringe; stuck to his forehead with a mixture of sweat and water, the latter being a last resort to clean himself up. His knuckles; bruised and torn with minuscule cuts barely able to conceal the truth behind his scars. His necktie; clumsily done with the knots coming loose. Though, whether the silk unfurled by Peter’s own sloppiness, or by the increasing frailty of his fingers that had become susceptible by even the most delicate material of neckties; it was futile to mention it to him. You knew he’d shut you down with another excuse.
“W-what are you doing here? Are you okay? I-I’m so sorry—I was on my way to you and—Oh god, you’re bleeding!“ Breathless, panting, not only because he was panicking from running late.
But because of adrenaline. You could see it in his eyes. The alertness. The high.
“What—“ You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, only to see a smear of blood blotted across your skin. “Shit.”
Another thick drop splattered in greeting.
“Peter, it’s a nosebleed. You’re acting like I had my arm chopped off or something.” You’ve been applying pressure to your nasal bridge, pinching it tightly to barricade the stream of blood. All while you had your head tilted over Peter’s sink, in case of the blood leaking past your hold. “And how long does it take to find a cotton ball?”
“I’m trying—“ His one-sided game of hide and seek with the bag of cotton balls was leaning in favor of the latter. Medicine cabinet: empty. Bedside drawer: foreign coins and bills. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, a small limp to his step when the lightbulb seemingly lit up overhead and had him dashing towards the kitchen.
“Found it!”
Peter’s touch was delicate. Tender, like the forming bruise on your forehead. He was adamant on taking care of you, even if frankly—you would’ve done it much faster had it been a solo endeavor. Cotton balls were plugged up into your nose, and a warm face towel was laid across your forehead. If an intruder had the audacity to rob Peter’s apartment, you’d imagine you would find yourself lucking out. Peter joked that you looked like patient zero.
“All done. See? Nothing to cry about.” He was joking again, the smug smile across his face a clear indication of it—and the laugh that he couldn’t help but contain.
“Ha. Ha. Thanks, Dr. Parker. Now, how much do I owe you? I’m paying outta pocket.” For a brief moment, you forgot that you were upset earlier. All because of how nice it was to actually see him again. He pressed a kiss to your lips, a comforting gesture if his constant apologies weren’t enough. Stay focus.
“So, about dinner…”
“Oh,” Disappointment softened Peter’s smile. You could see it tightening, even as he was organizing his room. Though, it was really a matter of tossing his clothes on the floor back into the laundry basket. “Listen, my… bike got stolen and—“
“Peter…” You sighed, pinching your nose bridge because you feared another avalanche of a nosebleed incoming. That, and because it helped you maintained your composure. “You said that the last time. Three times, actually.”
“Third time’s… the charm?” He was joking. Again. But even he wasn’t laughing at it because he’d been cornered. Called out. Embarrassed that he thought that would even work on you. Embarrassed that he thought he could get away with it.
Again.
“Peter.” You called out, straightening your posture against the headboard of the bed when he sat at the end of the mattress. Shit, it’s happening.
“I… I don’t know how to…” The veins in his hands, they lined perfectly to the cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his knuckles. Clear as day now that he wasn’t hidden under a dim light. “I just…”
He had his hands around his face, rubbing his temples, his cheeks, his nose, anything that could alleviate the accelerating drill of his heartbeat.
You were hopeful to get an answer out of him. A proper explanation. But it pained you, knowing that in a few seconds—what he would tell you would only confirm your yearning suspicions of his strange behavior.
He doesn’t love you anymore.
He’s cheating.
You’ve become a nuisance, an absolute bore in his life.
Actually, you’re a bad influence on him.
You’re holding him back.
He needs to let go of you to accomplish better things.
He never loved you.
It’s happening. It’s fucking happening. All he has to do is say those words. The dreaded five words you’ve heard once from him in a nightmare.
I want to break up.
“If you want to break up, just say it.”
It sounded softer in your head, but the tears that had welled in your eyes finally bursted into droplets. They ran down your cheeks, and your voice broke during its pursuit.
Something commanded you to let those words slip out.
Maybe it was the ghost that you and him had been theorizing about since the night you’ve helped him move into the apartment floor above you. Carrie; you nicknamed her, and Peter would scold you for doing so because he had the suspicions that giving her a backstory would ultimately reassess his home as a possessing ground. To this day, he swore he saw a shadow looming in the corner of his room on a perfectly stormy night.
Or maybe it was the months of frustration that you had accumulated, snowballed because of your own selfish reasons to continue being with Peter for as long as you could, even if you saw the signs, because you couldn’t bear to see yourself without him. Live, when you two had promised so many futures together.
“What? No, (M/N), that’s not—“ He jolted up at the mere mention of separating from you. There was a chill. The room suddenly felt colder, and then warmer—scorching hot, when the glossiness of your gaze reflected into his. He began joining you by your side. “Hey, hey, I would never—“
He broke into a cold sweat. He’d never seen you like this. And to think that he was the root of this—of your pain—it was all overwhelming.
“Peter, there’s always something going on with you. Y-you don’t text me for days. You ignore my calls. You disappear without telling me. You’re always late. And… you’re always hurt? And you think that I’m dumb enough to not notice that you aren’t? How you’re limping? How you’re always bruised and—For god’s sake, Peter, I’m just as smart as you, we have the same GPA and—“ You took a breather, a gulp because you were rambling now. Your cheeks felt hot, from your sudden outburst and from embarrassment, because the latter half of your rant immediately negated the idea of some kind of affair.
“Okay, maybe you aren’t cheating, but—“ You felt him tug you into his arms, but you wouldn’t budge. Instead, you pushed away, edging to the other side of the bed to face him.
“I would never.” He sighed, his arms dropping as soon as you removed yourself from his embrace.
“Then what is it? You’re leaving me in the dark here. I barely see you anymore, you know that?”
“I know.” He was biting his lips. Chewing, as if he was internally debating something. A decision that could either ruin you, ruin him, or both.
“Then?”
You waited. Watched his fingers fiddle with one another as he continued turning the screws in his head. Your heart would jump whenever he would open his mouth, anticipating whatever had caused so much turmoil in his life, but there was a last minute decision that kept him silent.
Crickets.
Nothing.
“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re doing. But you’re getting hurt and I’m just… worried.” Your gaze dropped to his hands again. Pale, veiny, and full of life yet they’ve looked like they’ve been worn out. Torn. “At least tell me it’s not gambling.”
“Well—in a way with my life, it kind of is like gambling—“ He thinly smiled, hoping it would at least make you crack a smile.
“Peter!” You scoffed, nudged his side with your elbow out of frustration, then surrendered when you brought your knees up to your chest, and buried your head in between your knees. “Not funny.”
“Okay, okay, just… you can’t tell anyone.” His voice softened.
“We all know that between you and I, you’re the one with the running mouth.” Your voice muffled in the space between your legs, hands tucked around your nape.
“I’m serious, (M/N)” Pleading now, he held your hand in hopes to get ahold of your attention again, squeezing so you’d look at him. You do.
“I won’t tell.” It was a promise. Peter didn’t need you to clarify because he could see it in your eyes, honest and sincere. Determined, as if you were willing to protect him.
“Okay… and also, don’t… freak out.” Peter was off the bed now, wandering in the middle of his room as he rolled his shoulders back, relaxing the muscles in his back like a wrestler preparing for his next fight. He gestured for you to follow him out to the stairway, out into the cold.
“Why would I freak—“ There was something around his wrist. No, wrists. You thought they were watches, but there were two devices around him. They were strapped with a similar black leather to your wallet, to Peter’s, and a red button protruded in the middle of it. “Peter, what are you—“
You stopped a few feet before Peter, watching him closely, yet afar. Afraid, yet intrigued. Concerned, because he was on the ledge of the staircase now, perched like an animal. Yet there was a grin on his face. Not crazed like a madman considering he was acting like one, but foolish. Goofy, giddy like the times he’d hide stuff from you, and wait until you’d notice it was gone.
“Like I said, don’t freak out.”
“Peter, what are you even—“
With that, he opened his arms like wings that spanned across his back and flipped into the air as if the wind would carry him across city to city. As if he was recruited as a sponsor to the heavenly gods with the incredible height he’d taken off in, pursuing the clouds, the wind, the stars, and the night simultaneously all in multiple slings.
Into. The. Air.
Into the fucking air.
You raced forward with a yelp, as if you would’ve made it in time to catch him. To catch his hand before he fell. To hold him one last time before he’d land on the ground and shatter every bone in his body.
If he had landed.
No, you blinked once—twice—no, at least in the double digits because this was all a dream. It was all a dream, right? That you caught a glimpse of Peter somehow slingshotting himself from window to window, from rooftop to satellite, like it was a mundane day job one had to endure to put food on the table, to pay the bills.
Right?
You paced around the stairs, raced towards one floor to another, bending over the railings because—Peter disappeared. He was gone. If he had smashed into something, you would’ve heard him. You would’ve heard him in yelp in pain. You would’ve heard the metal railings shake. You would’ve heard him cry for help.
Instead, you heard the sound of wind. Whistling as it sailed leaves to the west of you.
As if it carried a hint along the way.
“Peter?! Peter—Fuck, fuck!” You followed the sound of the whistle. The source of the pitchy sound. Fluttering when your head spun closer to the note, wavering when you were getting colder, then peaking when your gaze lifted, higher, and higher, until it landed on him.
Peter.
Peter, perched over the rooftop of the apartment complex like a bug. The moonlight framed his silhouette, emphasized the texture of his suit; protruding grids that encased him like a nest; and you’ve never been more intimidated.
Red and blue spandex tightly-fitted over the muscles and body of the man you have been more than well-acquainted with. You’ve seen it before. It was familiar. On the news, on the papers, on the internet.
“You’re freaking out!” He yelled out, clearly amused in your frozen state of shock.
He peered over at you with a smug grin, aimed directly at your bafflement before pulling a mask over his head. It was the icing on top in rendering you utterly incapable of stringing up any words. The lens of his mask reflected off of you, mirrored your astonishment in clear display, and you sensed that would be a memory Peter would be carrying to his death bed.
“What. The. Fuck.”
“Okay, so, just to clarify,” You were winded, still recovering from the heart attack Peter had nearly given you after he took you on for a stroll in the night. Into the sky.
Luckily his bed was right beside you. As soon as your legs gave out, you fell back into his mattress, and stared into the ceiling, speechless. Peter joined you after, bringing you into his arms. He’d always been aware that touching you in any way or form brought you back to reality. “You are… not a cosplayer?”
“Honestly? That would make me way more money than what I’m making right now.” You couldn’t keep your hands or eyes off of him. Peter was still in his suit, and that gave you the perfect opportunity to run your hands over the webbed texture of the spandex.
“Just a few more months until my lease is up. I can move in, and that’ll help with the rent. For both of us.” It felt like silicone, or rubber. Whatever it was, it was durable considering how thin it felt in your fingers when you rubbed it in between them.
“Just like that? You’re not mad?” Your hands came to a halt when Peter suddenly took them, and rested your palm on his cheek, coincidentally on the cut that you’ve never noticed.
“Why would I be mad?” Quieter. Your voice mellowed into a whisper as you catalogued the amount of beatings his skin had taken. Caressed the marks you were too selfish to notice. Exhaustion wore on his face, and yet he never looked so peaceful as he gazed into your eyes.
Pretty eyes, Peter thought. Ones that could motivate him to get back up after falling. That feels nice, when you pressed a kiss to his damaged skin. A touch that made him believe there was a reason to suffer, to be great, to be all of this.
“Well, for starters, it’s your birthday and… I completely blew it.” Peter closed his eyes when you began brushing his hair back, knotted in cold sweats, but you fanned your fingers out to undo them until they felt somewhat tidy in your strokes. Smooth and soft. He sighed, “Again.”
“Can’t entirely blame you. How would I look if I were to complain about missing you, when you’re out there risking your life for everyone?” It wasn’t a question, but you wanted him to look at you. To respond. And he does, when you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he returned it with a silken one, a following grin. “All I wish for was that you told me sooner, I guess.”
“Yeah,” He figured he’d save the details of the ‘friends’ he had made along the way some other time. For now, it was all about you. “Wow, you’re not even going to wish for me to be safe?”
“Hey, you know what I mean! That’s a given.” You rubbed at his chest, finding yourself quickly accustomed to the scales of his costume. The red was striking against your palms, comforting almost.
“Still. I want to hear you say it.” Peter rolled onto his side and slipped an arm under your back, scooting closer to you. His signature goofy grin never failed to knock a similar one out of you. And unwillingly drawn out, when he began pinching at your sides in quick snips.
“Stop—“ You laughed, your hands occupying themselves to defend your body from his quick attacks. But Peter was fast, avoiding your arms and hands to find another opening that you’d abandon. “Stop, stop! Stay safe! Happy?!”
Closer and closer, you found yourself beneath him, framed by his body as he took your arms above your head and pinned them secured with his tight grasps.“Incredibly.”
Your legs spread open to make room for his body, only for Peter to wrap them around his waist, to press his body into you, kissing you like he was driven to steal your breath.
“This your way of making it up to me?” You broke apart from the kiss, only briefly, before the taste of Peter, the softness of his lips reeled you back in for another kiss. Languidly paced until one’s accelerating lust for one another had taken ahold of the wheel and shifted gears, into a weightiness that kept your mouth parted open while Peter’s impulse to explore you had become evidently clear.
“Problem with that?” He’d been driving his hips into you, grinding his front with your own. Both clothed, infuriatingly covered, but the pressure in between your bulge and Peter’s was too pleasing to ignore. Too satisfying to make him stop. “I should take this off—“
“No, wait—“ You grabbed his forearm when he reached back to unzip his suit. To be honest, you never thought about how he even got in or out of the suit in the first place, but that was beside the point. Something about this suit, this costume, whatever you wanted to call it; it was a turn-on.
The way it fit snug against Peter’s body; how every fiber of muscle was stretching the material to its limit. Maybe you were just turned on because you associated it with him being a hero. For god’s sake, that was as much of an aphrodisiac one could be if you happened to be saved from a falling tower.
Or maybe, it was simply how Peter looked in it. Unabashedly handsome, yet himself, seemingly courting you further into his webs, as if he hadn’t already from day one.
“Keep it on. I like it.” You muttered, fiddling with the collar of his suit. It was snapped on tight, but you managed to slip a finger or two past, to pull at it with a stretch.
“Then how are we going to…” He abandoned the few inches he had unzipped, providing a small relief to the squeeze around his body while his broad back was bare and tense towards the ceiling.
“Then, you’ll take it off. But for now, I just want to…” One hand was on his nape, pulling him down for another heated kiss, while the other traveled south between your body and his. Further, lower, until you cupped him at his crotch. Rubbing, squeezing, and palming at the thick, growing center. “Want to try something…”
You could feel him smiling, a crooked one flattened against your own grin when he whispered, “I should’ve told you sooner, shouldn’t I.”
“You think?”
You were getting harder, your pants beginning to tighten around the center as you palmed him. It was a heavy handful in the beginning, but Peter’s bulge began to unfurl. It didn’t take long, didn’t take much of a stroke for him to unravel from his tuck and thicken into a full-blown erection towards the left side of his thigh. It pointed downwards, the plump head evident through his suit, and you were beginning to drool in Peter’s mouth at the haziest image of it.
“Come on, I need to get out of this… It’s killing me.” It wasn’t like Peter to beg. It was charming, cute, sexy, all the synonyms that could describe how you felt all day and every day about him, and you squeezed, because he wasn’t being patient with you.
“Birthday boy gets what he wants, don’t you think?” He winched into your mouth, and you swallowed him. Swallowed every ounce of breath, and breathed it back out with a kiss. Sloppy, heavy, your tongue weighing on his because you wanted to keep his lips apart, mouth open to hear his moans.
Peter grunted again once you began stroking his cock, touching him like it was a delicate plate of chin. Fingertips only, dusting him off with little pressure so he wouldn’t shatter.
“What are you going to do about it, hm?” You continued your short, limp strokes. “Just going to take it? Hm?” Your wrist was weak, lazy as it became limp to tease him even more. Peter sucked in a breath, doing his best to maintain his composure, but it was all futile, all those attempts of sucking in his lip to chew, to hold back his moans, because you’d slap his clothed cock, grasp it tight in your hand, and massage as much as you could gather.
“Fuck, baby—“ You had him under your control. Even if his hands were free, you knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on you. He knew that if he did, you’d stop touching him, stop stimulating the blood running down every vein of his cock, fueling his erection. His desires.
He couldn’t let that happen. Not after the day, the week, the months that he’d been having.
You and Peter eventually switched places: Peter resting on his back while you sat in between his legs, marveling at the stretch of his suit. Somehow, his cock looked bigger than you’d remember. Squished and pressed flush against his thigh like this. The suit was like a magnet, inviting your hand back to his cock and refusing to let you go.
“Just relax.” You commanded him. He was watching you slouched up against the headboard, gravity weighing his eyelids lower. With his legs spread apart, he provided you excess space as you began massaging his right thigh with your free hand. “Is this okay?”
“Mm-hm...” He knew you were talking about the pressure on his thigh, but the strokes over his cock remained supreme in his mind. Championed through as you pressed harder into the shaft, massaging tenderly from vein to vein. The protruding webbed texture of his suit pressed into him, rolled against cock like the inside of a fleshlight, ultimately adding onto the already gratifying pleasure.
It was glorious.
“More…” Peter gritted through his teeth, a selfish need for more escaping from his lips in huffs. Grunts, when you’d fulfill his wish with two hands now, kneading his cock like dough.
Thick, stiff, throbbing dough.
Before the complaints could come pouring in, you shimmied your pants off in a hurry, tossing it in the corner before greedily climbing onto Peter’s lap. It was like he read your mind, perhaps another secret that he’d been hiding, because he immediately took you into his arms. An embrace, a tight one that grounded you against his bulge, pressing your body weight until it restricted the blood flowing into his erection, as well as preventing an escape.
“You’re so hard…” You marveled at how rigid he’d gotten under you, grinding your ass against the large mass, beating and throbbing with every rut.
“I’m so hard.” He confirmed, complained, and bragged all in one smile. He then took you by the nape to kiss you again. Hard on the mouth, slow with his tongue to taste you and your desires, his desires. His other hand rested on the small of your back, guiding your grinds at first before his fingers looped into your waistband, tugging once before stuffing the strap under your ass cheeks. Your hard-on was the only thing keeping the cotton material from slipping off while you continued grating your hips. “Just like that…”
To make it easier for you, Peter repositioned his erection so it was facing north, towards his navel, in its sublime mass. Your briefs had been tossed to the side now, completely bare bottomed against him while you mounted over him, and rode in needy strides. It was a sight to behold, something that Peter reckoned he should savor. He folded his arms behind his head, providing a self-made cushion for the weight of it, and watched you. It was entrancing, like a dance. You swiveled your hips to a ghosting rhythm, one that could only be heard between two hearts, two parties, between the two of you, man to man.
“Like this…?” Breathless, you unbuttoned your shirt open, but left it present on your body. Sweat formed over your neck, dribbled down to your bare and exposed chest; it was practically an open-invitation for Peter to ravish you. And so he did, with a haunting groan as he held you, contained you in the warmth of his arms as he simultaneously pulled you forward, and pushed himself off the headboard to meet you in the middle.
He kissed you on the neck, achingly hard when he sucked, and then enthralling, sweat-inducing when he bit into your skin. He couldn’t contain himself. You tasted too good, and it’d been too long since he had you just like this. “Just like that. Your cock against my cock, fuck. I love it so fucking much.” He muttered hot against your neck, panting because he was sweating too. The spandex felt tighter on his skin, constricting against him with every drop of sweat.
“Oh, fuck…” His lips had latched onto your nipples now. Peter’s tongue worked magic on your two nubs, flicking and swirling over their perkiness until you felt swollen. Raw, when he bit, pulled, bit, and bit again. You buried your face into his hair, rocking yourself back and forth with your arms holding him close to your chest, gliding your cock against his print as if a gun was pointed to your head, like your life depended on making Peter come.
You were delirious, humping Peter without a single thought other than to get him off, and you’d reckon that was the goal lingering in Peter’s head as he began rocking back into you. It took a while for him to find your rhythm, chasing after it in slower, sluggish beats, but eventually he caught up to you, snapping his hips against your own, grinding his cock against yours like two crescent moons caressing the other’s curvature.
“Close…” He muttered into your shoulder. Your shirt was hanging off, exposing more of your skin, but Peter made sure you didn’t feel a single chill with the marks he had followed up with soon after. It was like he had done it on purpose. Made you feel safe in his arms, comfortable in the warmth of his body, worshiped with the amount of care he had given your body. Frozen, when you felt something prod at your pucker. Then enraptured, when Peter pushed a wet finger inside of you.
Tremors, chilling tremors ran down your spine as you took the single digit Inside of you with one determined push. “Fuck—“ Your back arched, chest pushed forward towards him, and your hips jolted forward in one strong, and delicious swipe against Peter’s cock. “Peter…”
It was a mouthwatering display of food before him. The perky nubs on your chest, the veins in your neck, the mole on your body, the strain of your thighs on overdrive, the swollen head of your cock; Peter didn’t know what to lay his finger on first, what to mouth on, what to kiss, and suck, and latch onto until you’d scream. Whichever it was, he knew you were desperate for him. Begging, sweating, whimpering, for Peter to lay a finger on you. Another finger inside of you now, and you rolled your eyes at the stretch he was providing you with, a fulfilling wish that startled your hips once more.
“You’re so good, so good for me…” Peter was staring up at you, marveling at the layer of sweat on your body. It glistened with every movement, dripped heavily with every thrust of Peter’s fingers, and tasted just like how he remembered. Salty when he licked up your neck, up your chest, against your nipples, and repeated. Your body was his, and Peter was determined to let the world know. Determined to remind you in case that you’d forgotten.
Your hands were wandering. Grabbing and touching at anything and everything that could linger in between your fingers. Peter’s hair, his head, shoulders, chest, your cock and his, his back. Everything. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Even if he was covered from head to toe, you were touching him. Because he was yours.
“Gonna come—“ You cupped Peter’s jaw to straighten his posture, to kiss him sloppily on the mouth, and he pulled his fingers out of you, resting them on either side of your hips as he joined you once again in grinding hips. The pleasure was overbearing, drilling into each individual brain until the smallest movement would render you both speechless. Panting in slurred moans of each other’s names, of profanities that you two had rarely used in your lifetime on earth.
“Me too…” Peter pushed himself on top of you now. Your arms were tied around his neck, tighter than the necktie he had on prior, and your legs; they wrapped around his waist equally secured, if not even tighter, as he thrusted against you.
You were too distracted, unable to respond to Peter’s constant licks in your mouth. He was desperate for you, suckling on your tongue and chasing after it once it slipped out because of your moans. They were rattling, each breath immediately vaulted in the back of Peter’s throat because he couldn’t part from you. Couldn’t imagine a life where he would. And if he had to, at least he’d have a part of you inside of him. Even if it was a whisper.
He thrusted harder, panting into your mouth, his nose practically smushed flat against yours. He wondered if you could imagine that life, a life without him.
“P-Pete—Shit, I’m—“ Your fingers dug into his nape, grounding him impossibly closer to you when that feeling had suddenly come to stun you in place.
It simmered hard in your stomach, then to a rolling boil as it traveled lower to your pelvis. You squeezed your stomach, clenched your toes, and your eyes widened when Peter’s hips showed no signs of faltering. Your cock swelled and your balls jolted, tightened, until you finally saw stars bursting into flames and let gravity have it come crashing down on you. Shivers had you enclose your arms around Peter, holding onto him tight as you felt yourself crumble and spill all over your chest and his suit. You came with a gritted grunt of his name, sinking your nails into his nape because you had nowhere else to channel your spasms as Peter kept rocking against you, drunkenly astonished by how you came for him. By how much you needed him.
It didn’t take long before Peter came right after. He buried his head into your neck, stifling moans into the heat of your neck, clammy with sweat, yet comforting as he filled the inside of his suit with thick, large loads. You felt his cock throb against you when you reached down to help, to ride out his orgasm to the fullest. His cock pulsed as you’d imagine several thick pumps of his load would gush out and uncomfortably layer his navel. If only his suit hadn’t been waterproof, because there was no doubt that he would’ve been leaking out of it by now.
You’ve never been so jealous of spandex.
He was hot in your ear, panting, breathing you in, then breathing you out as you slowed the strokes on his softening cock. Then a sudden inhale, a jolt of his body, when you squeezed hard, to seal the deal in covering the entirety of his cock in his own cum. It was filthy. It was shameless. It was Peter.
“Driving me crazy here…” Peter sluggishly lifted himself off of you to face you, a sleepy smile plastered across his face as you kept kneading at his cock, increasingly sensitive with every second.
“Not enough to drive you away, right?” You smiled, drowsy yourself as you quickly found your high coming to a crash. Though, you mustered enough strength to hold Peter’s cheek in your palm, tenderly caressing, to which he immediately kissed as soon as it reintroduced itself.
Peter sighed, holding your gaze for what felt like minutes, and yet you wished it could be for longer.
It was different this time, the way he looked at you. The same amount of love and warmth, yes. But they no longer wavered, no longer tried to find something else to look at in case you were prying about.
“Never.”
Instead, they stilled, relaxed the longer you stared into him, into those brown eyes of his, because you were in now.
You were finally in his life.
How much you needed him?
His question had been answered.
nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
request: Captain America falls in love with his fellow big bubble butt Twunk male reader avenger. Steve asked him on a date which leads to Steve and male reader losing their virginity on the first date; which eventually has them both in a long term married life full of happiness, love, and hot steamy sex with the super soldier with his big hung 🍆 and a twunk with the big 🍑.
warnings: smut, both of you are virgins, cursing, and fluff
a/n: idk how I feel about this one, it feels a lil iffy
you had just gotten back from your most recent mission where you had to stop some robbers from getting away with some stolen bank money with steve and lets just say it wasn't the easiest thing ever as it seemed like steve was occupied thinking on something else "hey what was that out there you seemed preoccupied" you say playfully nudging him "oh it was nothing just thinking" he stammers trying to avoid eye contact with you "well leave the thinking for off the field" you chuckle "yeah" he smiles.
just before you get out the door steve calls out "hey y/n would you wanna go out to dinner sometimes" he asks nervously "are you asking me on a date rogers" you ask with a grin "yeah i guess i a-" he says before getting cut off by the feeling of you kissing his cheek "well than its a date" you say smiling before walking away as steve stands there as his heart is pounding so hard it feels like it gonna burst out his chest.
you meet steve at a fancy restaurant and you guys find a table "I just wanna say you look amazing" he says "well thank you I'd say you look rather dashing yourself" you chuckle "thanks" steve says, you order your food and it soon comes out "wow this looks amazing, how did you even manage to book a place like this I heard they always have a full house" you inquire "compliments to tony he pulled a couple of strings" he says "I'll be sure to say thanks".
after finishing dinner you both walk down the street talking about the latest drama in the avengers compound "hey do you wanna go back to my place" you ask him "y- yeah I would love to" steve stammers at the sudden question before you grab steves hand and playfully run to your apartment, when you get to your apartment you show a nervous steve around.
"sorry it's a little messy I haven't been here in a while" you laugh throwing away done trash that was on your counter and kicking some clothes out the way "oh dont worry my place doesn't look any better" he says looking for some place to sit "oh yeah you can sit on the couch" you say moving some junk off the couch before sitting down on it with steve.
"I really enjoyed tonight" steve says with the biggest smile on his face "I did too" you say admiring steve, after a few seconds of silence steve leans in and kisses you before jumping back just as quickly "I'm sorry I didn't mean too do that" he tries to quickly apologize "don't be sorry I liked it" you say moving onto steves lap and kissing him deeper than before, his hands move to you back holding it firmly.
"should we" you trail off "I'm okay with it if you are" steve says with a bigger smile than before him now about to sleep with his first and best of all his crush "I am" you say taking your shirt off leaving your torso exposed for steve, he feels up and down your body watching how your nipples perk up with each light touch from his digits "you okay there big boy" you chuckle "y-yeah just new to this whole thing" steve says still amazed by your body.
"don't worry it's my first time too" you reassure "really" steve says, on the outside he seemed calm but on the inside he was freaking out at the feeling knowing he was gonna be your first and you were gonna be his first "you wanna take this off" you ask tugging at the hem of his shirt, he quickly obliges and takes off his shirt his broad body now on full display for you.
you run your fingers along his chest, tracing random shapes and admiring his figure "you wanna maybe do it" steve nervously asks "id be happy to" you say getting up and putting on a mini show for steve, stripping off your pants and underwear in an erotic way, you watch as steve follows every one of your movements with his eyes his cock now begging to be let out of its confines.
"how about we get these off of you" you say pulling steves pants off and watching his dick jump out and stand up straight resembling the american flag "I didn't expect you to have a dick like this" you say stunned by the mans large dick "well the super soldier serum enhanced some other things to" steve chuckles "well either way it still looks delicious" you say licking his tip slowly watching him shudder under your touch.
"how are you so good at that" steve asks trying to avoid your seductive gaze "I don't know maybe I just learned it" you say licking his slit, "I bet your bussy feels better" steve says choking down a moan "what" you say holding back a laugh "what" he says innocently "did you just say bussy" you ask almost laughing "what I heard it off porn" he says shrugging his shoulders "yeah you're in desperate need of some hole it seems" you say straddling his bare lap.
steves breath hitches in his throat at the bare feeling "can I kiss you" steve asks trying to control his breathing "you don't have to ask me steve" you say pulling him into a kiss "I wanna feel you" steve begs "okay okay" you chuckle before smearing some saliva on his dick "okay three, two, one" you cut down before sinking onto his dick slowly with a moan.
steves hands quickly find their way to your hips and tightly hold them in place, you sit there for a couple seconds and get used to his large size before looking at him with a "are you okay" look and he replies with a nod, you lift up and sink back down in a rhythm with steve groaning at each move, "I feel like I'm gonna cum already" he says with tightly shut eyes before throwing his head back.
"me too" you moan, your moan brings steves head back up to watch you moan all over him, a dream he's jerked off to multiple times in one day "never did I think id have this chance with you" steve scoffs "well here I am now" you kiss steve before moaning into his mouth as you sink down again "fuck" you huff before cumming all over steves stomach him watching in full awe.
"nghhh" he moans next as he cums in you, his teeth tightened together and eyes shut as his hips erratically thrust upwards trying to ride out his high, after a few more seconds steve finishes and lets out a long breathy huff "fuck that was good" you say dropping your head on his shoulder "sorry for cumming so fast" steve sweetly apologizes "you're good you felt to good" you say "well thank you" he smiles.
it may have only been the first date but steve already wanted to marry you he thought of this so hard he didn't even realize he was staring at you "earth to steve, you okay" you ask with a chuckle "yeah just thinking" he reassures with a smile "you sure do think a lot" you say laying your head back down on his chest "you have no idea" Steve says.
Logan was forced to take you on a mission all because of your capability to read minds he was overly capable of going on this mission by himself but you had no choice in the matter. You weren’t exactly having the best time considering how intimidating he is and how overly sarcastic he is over everything. It got frustrating fast, what was more frustrating was how quiet it was in his truck and you weren’t in the mood to try to make conversation.
You could feel his eyes burn into your peripheral vision but you just ignored it and kept looking out the passenger window “Are you scared of me, kid?” You rolled your eyes and looked at him “Am I what?” He leaned back in his seat and kept one hand on the wheel “You look bothered by me, Bub” You messed with the necklace around your neck “Not bothered by you Logan just not in the mood to make conversation.” The smug look on his face gave your lie away. The truth is that you think he’s too attractive for his good and it made you even more annoyed.
The truck finally made its stop to the motel that you guys desperately needed to stay at and you desperately needed to shower and get little to no sleep. You made it out of the truck first and made your way to the entryway “Are you coming old man?” You smiled at him. You could see the look of disgust on his face “I’m not old.” He scoffed at you walking close behind you, You could smell his cologne he was so close to you.
He opened the door for you and waved for you to walk ahead of him you could hear his boots click behind you. You made your way up to the front desk and asked for a room key the worker gave you the key “The last room we have until tomorrow.” The worker said to us. You nodded at him and grabbed Logan’s arm “Come on, big man” you smirked at him
You guys navigated to your room and had Logan unlock it for you guys while you held each other’s belongings, you heard Logan sigh “That’s fuckin’ great” You followed him into the room and noticed how there was only one bed in the middle of the room. Yeah that is great.. you said to yourself
“I can take the floor tonight, you’ve been driving all day I know you need the sleep.” You placed the bags on the floor next to the bed “I’m gonna get cleaned up.” He nodded
You brushed your teeth and washed your face quickly so Logan could use the bathroom after you.
“Hey, Logan-“ you went to say but he wasn’t in the room until you looked by the sliding glass door the Jack Daniel’s bottle in his hand all while he was leaning against the side, Looking outside.
His t-shirt clung to his body and you could see every muscle through it.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked with curiosity. He looked down at you “Nothing” You gave him a look “You can’t lie to me, you know.”
He walked back into the room and closed the door behind him “What do you think about when you look at me, Hm? You look at me like I terrify you.”
You needed to play dumb “Logan you don’t terrify me.” He steps towards you leaving a small gap between you two “Then tell the truth.”
You placed your hands on his stomach trying to put some distance between the two of you “Logan I can’t.” He held your wrists “Then let me.”
You knew exactly what he was going to say before he could even make the sentence out “Logan don’t say it, you can’t” you pointed at the both of you “We can’t do this.” He placed his hands on your face.
his face close to yours “Please just let me show you what I’m thinking” You put your hands on his arms “But we can’t” his face got closer to yours his lips barely on yours just craving to touch you.
You beat him to it and put your lips on his, he consumed everything his lips were so soft against yours, and his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. He groaned and pushed himself away from you “Fuck, we can’t no matter how much we want to. We can’t”
male reader, bunny boy!reader, pet names, praise, subbot reader, slight boot riding, cowgirl, yk how hugh said he doesn’t have a safe word… how he doesn’t like to stop, tail pulling, slightly mean dom!logan, I’ve never seen any of the x-men or wolverine movies so not too much
Days where Logan is just sitting on the couch of the room you two share in the X-Mansion. Wearing a hoodie that isn’t all the way zipped up, displaying his muscular chest that you could just bury your face in for hours. And his cargos that sit a little loose around his waist despite the belt he wears.
When he’s just watching whatever is playing on the TV and you ponder into the room. Your eyes on him and him alone. Oh-so-innocent-shaped eyes with such a lustful glint in them. You just stroll over to him, blocking his view of the TV for just a split second before you’re on your knees in front of him, your chin on his knee and your core resting perfectly on his boot.
He pays you no mind, keeping his eyes on the TV. He’s doing it on purpose. A slight pout forms on your lips. “Lo,” you call out softly, looking up at him with those eyes he can never say no to. You roll your hips slightly, trying to create some friction for yourself.
“What’s up, Bub?” Logan finally acknowledges you when you call out his name, his eyes falling on yours. A small, fanged smirk grows on his face as he feels you pitifully grind yourself against his boot through the fabric of your shorts.
“Want you, Lo,” you sigh, resting your cheek against his knee. Your hands absentmindedly fidgeting with his pants leg.
“Yeah, you wanna play, darlin’?” Logan asks, still smirking down at you. You perk up at that. You enthusiastically nod against the fabric of his cargos. Logan’s eyes trail your body. Not missing the way your little cotton tail swishes feverishly behind you. The way you’re pressing yourself right against his shoe. How could he say no to that?
It’s only so long before his large, calloused hands are holding the soft flesh of your hips. He’s laid back on the couch with your legs straddling him, the muscles in them shifting as you fuck yourself on his cock. His hoodie unzipped completely and the fabric spilled onto the couch.
“Fuck, there we go, baby,” Logan groans, watching the way his thick cock disappears inside of you with each movement of your hips. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you chase that feeling, that euphoric feeling that it seems like only Logan can give you. “Pretty little bunny takin’ me so fucking good.” He says through labored breaths, his head falling back against the couch’s cushions.
Your chest heaving as you suck in him. Your gummy walls stretch around him each time he fills you again, clinging to him so perfectly. You seem to be the only one who can handle Logan and his stamina and he seems like the only one who can handle you.
“Logan~” you moan breathlessly, that knot in your stomach getting dangerously tighter with every little ‘plap’ that comes from your ass meeting his hips. Your pretty eyes hazed over with lust falling shut for a moment.
“Yeah, baby? Want me to help you? Does the little bunny need help?” Logan pants, his eyes glued to that pretty little fucked out expression on your face. And gosh, he couldn’t be happier when you nod through a shaky breath. His hands gripping your hips a little tighter as he helps you up and down his cock.
Logan’s breath quickens with every tug on your hips, every tug that makes you take him deeper. Every little moan and mewl that falls from your lips goes straight from his ears to the pit of his stomach and his groin.
His hands shifted to grab the plump flesh of your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh harshly. His legs shifting so he can fuck up into you. His hips meeting yours roughly, the quick drags of his dick stroking every inch of you dragging heavy grunts and labored breaths from Logan. Your hips stuttered to meet his.
“Oh c’mon baby, no way you’re getting tired on me already,” Logan comments, watching the way you slightly struggle to match him. He knows you too well. Suddenly, one of his hands moves from your ass to grab that soft, wagging tail that sits right where your ass and your hips meet.
“Logan—! Don’t— fucking— hah, do that,” you squeal in breathless whimpers when he roughly grabs your tail. The energy that you had seemingly lost returned as you brought your hips up again, meeting his in the perfect little rhythm.
“Aw, why not? Look how excited you get,” Logan teases, giving the scut a little tug. A weak moan of his name pulls from your throat, your finger pads that sat on his board chest pressing into the skin slightly. “C’mon, bunny boy, you wanted it, now take it like you know how to.”
A shot of pleasure shoots down your spine as you listen to his hoarse words. “Hngh— Logan, please,” you plead, leaning down and burying your face in his neck. Not quite sure what you’re pleading for but the words just mindlessly fall from your lips.
Summary: You found yourself with a group of survivors during this horrid outbreak and it’s pretty obvious one of the younger male members has the hots for you.
Warnings: Dialogue Heavy, MLM, Male Reader, Dominant Ellis, Sub reader, Casual sex, smut
Characters: Ellis
Category: Short Series
Series: Left 4 Dead 2
Word count: 1690
(Part one here!)
Hours had passed already. From the sweet calm safe room to out on the streets of this hell. Zombies came in hordes and that was only the beginning of the bloodshed.
You and Ellis with your collective luck managed to be on the opposite side of an oil truck exploding perfectly separating the two youngest from the three oldest.
“Shit! Hordes coming in Ellis!” You shot at any oncoming infected while the hick mildly panicked.
“Alright! We’re gunna meet you at the mall! Now don’t move on till we—!”
“Ellis we’ve got to go! Now!” You shouted over your shoulder. Bullets flew from your smg as you gripped the trigger like it was a lifeline.
Ellis jumped down to your side, taking out a few zeds with his shotgun. You felt his hand wrap around your wrist. He began to pull you away from the active war zone as best he could. The two of you zipping past cars and buildings until you laid eyes on a gas station.
“Move your ass! Straight ahead!” You were now in the lead. Ellis following straight behind as the two of you booked it towards the quiet station.
Glass broke under your shoes as you ran inside. Quickly ducking back into the “employees only” area of the store. You two stood there for a few seconds, panting like dogs after the heavy amount of sprinting that had ensued.
“Jesus… felt like that was our last breathin’ moments.” Ellis slumped into a wall. Letting himself slowly drag down until he sat on the tile floor.
“Yeah… yeah I… that was pretty scary.” You fell down to rest your beating legs. It felt like you had just ran a mile under thirty seconds.
“I say we rest up. Don’t wanna risk our tails second time round. You down?”
“Down.” You plopped down by his side. Wishing you had something to ease your mind from this unfortunate situation.
Silent moments passed. You had your head resting against the wall while you trailed off in thought. Although Ellis, being Ellis, decided to spark up a conversation.
“You uhm… earlier this mornin’ you said you had kissed a boy before.”
“You’re still on about that?” You turn your head to look into those soft, curious eyes.
“Well I mean. Shit. Look I… I don’t know what I like no more. First it was all about girls. Then I met you n’… things changed— my mind changed?”
“Look Ellis. I’ve kissed tons of people before. Some I regret some I don’t but that’s besides the point. It’s just what I like. Maybe you’re the same way.”
“Same way?”
“You probably like both. Just because you suddenly got the hots for me doesn’t exactly mean you’re gay.”
“Huh…” Ellis flipped off his hat. That cute short hair blessing your view once again.
“You want to find out?” You scooted closer. Closing the small gap between the two of you.
“Yeah I’d… really like that… y’know.” Ellis swallowed back his fears. You huffed out a gentle laugh before reaching out to cup his cheek.
His skin was rough but his features were soft. It was cute watching him clear his throat to hold back his shaken breaths as you crept your lips closer to his.
“You sure about this?” You were one more step away from kissing the hick. Ellis nodded his head before words slipped past his lips.
“You know I ain’t much of a man who’s used to bein’ on the receiving end of a kiss. Not like this exactly… but— but course I done did plenty of kissin’ it’s jus’ with you— mgh!”
You couldn’t help it. Halfway through his sweet little rant you thought it would just be best for your ears to shut him up in the best possible way. Ellis immediately took a liking within seconds though.
The man leaned into it, deepening the kiss as best he knew how. Taken back you fumbled a bit in your kiss as he practically pressed his whole body into you. It was a bit shocking but not really. You had to admit he was pretty damn good.
He was the first to pull away. Eyes widened and a small smirk tugged on his cheek. “Holy. Shit.” Ellis stood up from the wall, taking in the room around the two of you.
“I could work wit this.” Ellis nodded his head while rubbing his chin. You couldn’t help the look of confusion that flooded your features as you looked up at him.
“What are you talking about this time?”
“I was thinkin’ we got ‘Nough privacy don’t we? Well maybe we could…” Ellis dropped his head to scratch the back of his neck. His bigger self shrinking as he grew embarrassed once again.
“Are you asking me to have sex with you?”
“Well don’t jus’ say it like that! I want to make love with you. Not jus’ fuck one another n’ call it a night. Sure this ain’t no romantic rose petal infested bedroom but…” Ellis trailed off. Using his hands in abundance to talk for him.
“Shh, I get your point.” You stood up from sitting on the floor. “I like you too.”
“Just… like? Really…?”
“We’ll figure it out later. I’m convinced you aren’t entirely sure about this.”
“Only one way to find out. C’mere.” Ellis took a step back, sitting on the table behind him. That grin returning back to his face.
…
Your clothes were strung about the small space. Ellis’ hat thrown onto the floor along with your pants and shirt just beside it.
Ellis had bent you over the table, prepping you from behind as you rested your head in your arms. Your stomach fluttered and your eyes felt heavy as his fingers slowly slid in and out.
“Feelin’ good up there?” You could practically hear the smile from his voice.
You nodded and gave a “mhm” with furrowed brows. Getting a bit impatient you began to spread your legs a little more for him, hoping he’d catch the idea.
He did. With a simple click of his tongue his fingers retreated back and you now felt both his hands grip tightly onto your waist. Ellis’ rough callused palms practically dug into the tender bits of your skin. Christ it felt good.
“Now… I haven’t done this in practically a century. So don’t judge me on my—“
“I think it’ll feel good no matter. So why don’t we find out? Tough guy.”
That name set him off like fireworks on the fourth. His grip on your waist tightened and you could now feel him guide himself inside slowly.
You rolled your head forward into your arms again. Letting yourself feel every inch of him connecting with you.
“Fu—ck! Jumping Jesus you feel… holy sh—!” Ellis’ voice choked back with a rolling moan as he fully slid inside. His eyes glazed over where he was inside you up towards his hands. He squeezed and you let out a moan of your own.
“God I gotta start… but— you ready? I… I can…”
Looking over your shoulder you met with his eyes. So soft and caring it made your entire body feel warm despite the cold that crawled up your skin with the lack of clothing. You nodded, reaching a hand back to grab his wrist and squeeze.
“Go on…” you breathed. He nodded while lowering his gaze back down to your ass.
Beginning slow he slid out then back in a few times until he began to quicken his pace. Still looking at him and his adorable expression you began to smile softly.
Ellis had his brows furrowed with a somewhat saddened expression. His mouth hung open a bit with the occasional “fuck” or some other southern curse. Eventually he really got into it.
His hips thrusting into your backside causing that sweet sound of skin slapping against skin. You readjusted slightly, now instead of laying on the table you propped yourself up to get better leverage.
The hick took this as the perfect opportunity to raise his grip higher. Wrapping his arms around your chest as he began to shoot his hips into you. Moaning and grunting like animals.
You turned your torso a bit to face him better. Both of you immediately clashing lips like it was your last day on earth. Few more minutes passed with a few more following thrusts that began to stagger and fall less consistently.
He was close you could tell. And as if he could read your mind his voice blurted out in a groan.
“I’m… so so fuckin’ close—! So close… I’m gunna— shit do you—?”
“Do it—!” You managed to choke out past your constant ring of moans that rolled up your throat with each following thrust that met your skin.
“Fuck fuck fuck!!!” Ellis clutched onto you like a lifeline as he buried himself into you as deep as he possibly could.
The weight of him rolling into you made you both lay onto the table. You felt every string of his slick rope within you. Out of all the bullshit you’d been through both of you definitely needed this.
Ellis lifted himself from off your back, panting like he was before when the two of you had first found this place. You looked over your shoulder wondering what he was thinking.
“We are definitely doin’ this again…” Ellis smiled down at you before peppering your shoulders and neck in kisses.
“No doubt about it…” you exhaled with a smile.
“So does this make us—“
Ripping through the calm silence of the gas station around you was that terrible noise of a car alarm blaring. Both you and Ellis stopped everything to clean up as fast as you could. In the speed of the moment neither of you cared who put on what article of clothing as you both began to sprint out the gas station once again.
BOUNES:
They meet back at the mall and Nick asks why is reader wearing Ellis’ shirt
An hour had passed officially. You and Ellis casually strolling up to the mall like you hadn’t just fought an army of the undead within the past hour.
Rochelle was standing outside the safe room door immediately spotting the two of you and running up with open arms. Clutching into the two with a small sob.
“You boys ain’t never leaving my sight again!”
“Jesus kids what the hell where you both doin?” Coach waltzed up beside Rochelle, just as concerned as she was for your well being.
“Great family reunion.” Nick scoffed. “But can we address the fact that you’re wearing Ellis’ shirt.”
Nick pointed towards you. Immediately feeling the rush of embarrassment flood to your face you also had just realized… you were wearing Ellis’ shirt and he was wearing yours.
do you remember the scene in season 1 episode 3 where Elena catches Vicki in the bathroom brushing her teeth implying that her and Jeremy has spent the night together? Can we get a male Gilbert reader story where instead of Vicki it's Matt and Mel Gilbert reader, and Elena gets judgy and tells Jenna on them but she already knows.
Elena awoke with the sense of dread. If last night was any indication of where the source of her uneasiness came from, it was how she and Stefan left things. How he was keeping something from her, and the more she pushed, the more he pulled away. Not to mention how Stefan's older brother Damon was abusing Caroline. Like, what was that all about?
She slumped against her pillow and looked at the stack of books on her nightstand. One of them was her diary. Elena reached out and grabbed it as she sat up and had every intention of writing down everything that she was feeling in this moment. Her pen touched the page, but no words were written. Seems like she just couldn't write. No matter how much she wanted to, there was something keeping her from doing so. Looks like Stefan had a hold of Elena more than she originally thought.
The thought of Stefan instantly made her feel numb and sad as Elena shook thoughts of the handsome boy out of her head and headed to the bathroom to wash her face. She opened the door that she shared with her younger brother, Y/N. Elena was surprised not to find Y/N nor Jeremy using all the good toothpaste to brush their teeth, but the shirtless and muscular form of Matthew Honeycutt Donovan.
Elena was no stranger to Matt and his physique. They dated throughout their high school careers, but after the death of her parents, Elena just couldn't be with Matt anymore. They were still best friends, and Elena loved having Matt over, but why was he here at 7:00 in the morning? Matt looked like a deer caught in headlights as he's not sure if he should cover his bare chest or his blue boxers with bunnies on them. "Elena? I-I'm sorry, I'm almost done."
Elena looks confused. "It's fine, Matt. Take your time." She closed the door and blinked. What the hell just happened?
A few minutes later, Matt enters Y/N's room with a smirk on his face, a bounce in his step. "I think you might be in trouble." He said, jumping on the bed and wrapping them both in covers and comforters.
Y/N raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"
"Oh, Elena saw me."
"I'm a horny teenage boy with a hot jock in my bed. I'm pretty sure there are worse things that I could be doing." Y/N smiled. Matt smiled and kissed Y/N on the lips as they wrestled until Matt was on top and kissed Y/N into the mattress as he reached down into his boxers and tugged.
Elena walked downstairs to find Jenna in the kitchen. "Jenna! Are you aware of what's going on upstairs?"
"Uh-huh." Jenna says nonchalantly.
"And you have no objection?" Elena asked. How could she act like this wasn't a big deal? How Matt could be here and from his body language, he was definitely sleeping with one of her brothers, and it wasn't Jeremy.
"Y/N could be craftier about it, at least make an effort to sneak him in and out. Oh, and just so you know, I won't be home for dinner." Jenna smiles.
Peter and his bf play fighting and his bf bites his ass
Y/N and Peter were playing fighting in Peter's bedroom. Nothing serious, just two young men rolling around on the mattress. Good thing, Aunt May was out of town a few days, and Peter asked Y/N to stay over and keep him company.
It got to the point that Y/N had Peter turned around on his stomach, and it playfully bit down on his bubbly ass through his jeans. Peter gasped and squeaks with laughter. "Oh, you're such a little shit, Y/N, but I love it." Peter grins and wiggles his ass playfully. "You can bite all you want, baby. It just makes me harder for you." He flexed his firm ass cheeks.
"Yeah? like this?" He leaned down and bit his ass a little harder than before. Not hard enough to break skin, but definitely a little sting in Peter's cheeks. "Oh, fuck yeah! Just like that! Damn, you know exactly how to get me hard." Peter grabs his boyfriend's hand and guides it towards his crotch. "Feel what you do to me, baby? My cock is already straining against my pants."
"Mmm. Tell me what you want, Peter." Y/N's voice was thick with lust. Peter was panting heavily. "I want you to fuck me, hard and fast, against the wall. I need your cock inside me so bad."
"You got it, Tiger." He took off his shirt and stripped Peter of his.
Tony: "Underoos, how would you rate Y/N as a boyfriend?"
Peter: "Uh, pretty good, I guess. Except that he's never remembered my birthday or that he steals all my hoodies. In fact, he usually just jabs me with a big stick." *Y/N jabs him with a big stick* "Ow!"
Y/N : "I'll jab you good, you filthy bug!"
Peter : "Why won't you love me, Y/N? I'll be anything you want me to be!
Soldier Boy's smile is a wicked grin, his voice rough and dirty as he speaks. "Now, that's what I like to see. Two pretty boys making out with my dick... you're gonna be perfect for my fucked up world, aren't ya?" He looks down at Y/N and Peter. Both of them pay lavish attention on every inch of Soldier Boy's cock, hands moving in unison as they each pleasure a different part of his shaft. Their tongues flick over the sensitive head, then suckle on his balls, worshipping his masculinity.
"Fuck, that's good..." Soldier Boy groans out, his voice rough and low as he watches the both of them eagerly suck him off. "You both love my cock, don't you? You two little whores... make me cum..."
Y/N and Peter nod, moaning like bitches in heat as they pleasure Soldier Boy.
Archie smirks as he wraps his arms around the back of his boyfriend's body and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, handsome." Archie whispered into his ear. Normally, that would send a shiver down Y/N's body, but something wasn't right. Y/N couldn't really explain it, but something was off about "Archie."
Y/N must have tensed underneath his because "Archie" frowns and turns him around. "Y/N? What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" He looks at Y/N with those brown eyes of his, but there was no innocent way about them. These brown eyes were sharper. More cocky. Confident.
"You're not Archie." Y/N said, backing up. "Who are you?"
"Archie" furrowed his eyebrows together. "Y/N, what's wrong? It's me." He reached out a hand, but Y/N slapped it away. "I'm warning you. Who the hell are you, and where's Archie? The real Archie."
There was a throaty chuckle that rumbled from "Archie's" throat. He looks at Y/N like a predator looking at its prey. For some reason, Y/N felt like he was being undressed by the red head's gaze. He had to fight the urge to cover himself with his hands as he met his gaze. "Who the fuck are you? Tell me, or I'm calling Sheriff Keller."
"You're pure dynamite, aren't ya, baby? Okay, Archie, you win. He could tell the difference."
Y/N blinked when another Archie came into the room wearing a letterman's jacket. This Archie looked different. Kinder. Softer. That was Y/N's Archie. "What the hell is going on here?"
Archie steps forward. "Y/N? This is Alistair Andrews. My rich cousin, who looks exactly like me."
Alistair smiled. "Pleased to meet you, sex on legs."
Y/N: "Stefan, I'm not saying I hate your brother, but... if I was driving and Damon was lying in the middle of the road, I'd step on the gas and run him over. Then reverse and run over him again."
Kuba: "And I would add heavy metal spikes covered in Vervain to add the extra… spice. Hahahahaha!!!!"
Stefan: "Okay. No more How to Get Away with Murder for you guys."
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