pete crow armstrong nsfw headcanon
a/n: this was a request, i hope you enjoyyy!! thank you for reading!!
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• The quiet, wildfire kind of want.
Pete looks soft, boyish, harmless until he looks at you.
His eyes go darker, slower, hungrier in a way that makes your pulse stutter.
He steps closer, fingers brushing your hip like he’s testing how fast he can break your composure.
“You’re really gonna look at me like that and expect me to behave?”
His voice drops an octave when he wants you.
• Gentle dominance that feels like a trap you want to fall into.
He leads you into them hand sliding down your waist, lips brushing your jaw, breath warm against your ear.
“Turn around for me…that’s it.”
Soft. Calm. Impossible not to obey.
• The kiss that gives him away.
Pete kisses like he means it slow at first, controlled, then suddenly deeper, teeth catching your bottom lip like he’s starving.
His hand cups your jaw, thumb stroking your cheekbone, steadying you through the rush.
When you gasp, he smiles against your mouth.
“There you go…just like that.”
• Hands that explore like he’s memorizing you.
Fingertips skimming your waist.
A palm sliding up your back.
A gentle grip on your thigh as he pulls you closer.
He touches you like he’s been waiting to, like every inch is something he’s been imagining for weeks.
• The moment he gets a little desperate.
You tug his hoodie, pull him closer, or whisper his name, and it hits him hard.
He exhales fast, forehead dropping to your shoulder for a second.
“Fuck…don’t do that unless you mean it.”
He’s trying to stay controlled and failing in the best way.
• Loves being close. Chest-to-back close. Breath-on-your-neck close.
He lines himself behind you, lips brushing the curve of your shoulder.
His hands settle on your hips, firm but gentle, holding you exactly where he wants you.
“Stay right here,” he murmurs, voice warm and deep.
• Praise kink disguised as encouragement.
Pete’s voice gets breathy, softer, and unintentionally filthy.
“Let me see your face, sweetheart.”
Every word hits low in your stomach.
• He gets lost in the little sounds you make.
Your breath catching, your soft whine, the way you gasp when his hips roll deeper he takes it all in like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard.
His hand finds your cheek, tilting your face toward his.
“That’s it. Don’t hide from me.”
He’s soft spoken, forehead pressed to yours as he moves through the last few slow, deep strokes.
“God…babe…you’re gonna ruin me.”
His voice cracks right at the end right when you do.
• Aftercare like he’s afraid to let go.
He wraps himself around you, chest against your back, arms tight around your waist.
Kisses your shoulder, your hair, the back of your neck.
“I got you…stay right here.”
He holds you until your breathing settles and then longer, because he just loves the way you fit in his arms.
