#MJ x reader smut

[abbyromanoff]

MILF!Reader slowly realizing that her son's BFF/GF, MJ, has been flirting with her for a while now.

A DIRTY FLIRT

PAIRINGS: MJ x reader

WORD COUNT: 1815

WARNINGS: flirting, age gaps, small angst, sexual themes but no sex, MJ being a huge flirt and tease and hot as SHITTT, milf!R, R is married but it’s not cheating…yall will get it, MJ is 19!!, think that’s it :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

You turned as you heard the door creak open and your son yelling out to you, and only seconds later he was in the kitchen with two friends you assumed were from school.

“Hey, mom! I hope it’s okay I brought some friends over, this is Ned as you already know and this is MJ, she’s new to the school.” Peter spoke, and you waved to the other boy when his name was addressed as you had already met him years earlier. He was a regular at your house as Peter was at his, but the girl was fresh. She had long curls that were slightly messy, and her outfit was more laid back like the other two.

“Hello, Ned, it’s great to see you again. And hello, MJ, it’s lovely to meet you, dear.” You felt her eyes follow up and down your body twice before a small grin fell on her face and she nodded to your greeting.

“We have a science project so we were going to go and, well, do that. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” The three began walking towards the room until you called for your son. He stopped in his tracks and told Ned to bring MJ to his room to get started before turning to your direction again.

“Just…have fun and,” You looked to where the two were, hoping they were out of ear shot before finishing your sentence. “Keep the door cracked.”

“Mom!”

“What! I’m just saying, you’re in college now and I know kids your age like to, you know, experiment-”

“Please stop talking about sex, I promise MJ is just a friend, I don’t see her in any weird way.”

“Just keep it open a little, it’s not like I’m going to be standing there stalking you three.” He agreed before rushing off. That was the first time you had met the girl, but it would definitely not be the last. She was there for the next three days until they finished the assignment, and each day you felt her watching you like a hawk. Whenever you called them for dinner or she had to go to the bathroom, her eyes would be stuck to you as if she was glue.

You hoped it was only curious glances seeing as she refused to speak to you, but that came to be proven wrong two weeks later when she arrived again. The two boys were out and you received a knock at the door. Confused, you checked the windows before opening it and spotting the college student standing there with a bag over her shoulder. Her eyes fell to your body and that’s when you remembered the messy apron covering you that you forgot to take off.

“Oh, hey, MJ! Uh, Peter isn’t home right now, if you want I could leave a message or…” You led off, not sure what to offer as she continued to stare at you.

“I’m not here for him, I think I left my jacket here the other day and I wanted to grab it.”

“Oh, of course, yeah. Uh, come in.” You awkwardly suggested, opening the door further as she stepped in, and this marked the first time you’d ever be alone with her.

“You can look for it, I’ll just be in the kitchen.” She nodded and began slowly walking around, and it seemed as though she was examining each space the building had to offer. You continued to mix the dough in the bowl without turning, your mind so set on perfecting the consistency that you jumped when you heard her voice.

“You’re married?” She asked while holding a portrait of you smiling with a man in a wedding dress, him in a suit. You were pregnant at the time, and your bump was visibly noticeable to her and anyone who saw it.

“Uhm, yes. Yes, I am.”

“But you don’t wear a ring?” You glanced at your empty hand with tight lips, refusing to look her way and pouring the unprepped bread into a greased pan.

“No, I do not. Me and Peter’s father aren’t entirely, uh, together if you could say so.” You didn’t understand why you shared the piece of information with the young girl who you barely knew, who your son barely even knew, but you found yourself being able to share the words easily.

“But he lives here, does he not? And Peter tells me you two are together?”

“Why are you asking my son if I’m married?” You avoided the question with one, hoping to remove the pressure from your end.

“That doesn’t matter right now, I asked you first.”

“It does matter.”

“It’ll matter once you answer me.” You sighed, giving up as you set the timer on the stove and began walking towards the sink to clean your doughy hands.

“I got pregnant by a one night stand, he was that one night stand. We tried to make it work knowing we had a son on the way and even when Peter was born we were still trying, but we could never find ourselves being in love with one another. We still love each other, we’re just not in love. So instead of having a divorce, we thought it would be easier to stay together and see other people. He has a girlfriend who is okay with the situation, he often stays there or she’ll stay here, we’re actually pretty close. That way I can stay at home to care for the house and for Peter, Peter won’t need to be too affected by a divorce, and his dad can focus on his career.” MJ nodded in understanding with a hum, and unbeknownst to you, instinctively moved closer while you were still in front of the sink. You had not realized how long you had been washing your hands, being too focused on telling the story she asked for. It was only when you remembered the question you had asked her that you dried your hands and turned, only to have the girl standing only inches from you now.

“Uhm, and why- why were you asking Peter if I was married?” She smirked lowly at the thought, her free hand coming to the counter behind you while the other brushed against your hand. Her bag was gone now, and her jacket was still nowhere to be seen.

“Well, I’m interested in you. I’ve always liked, how do I put it,” She stared at your lips as your breath became uneven. You gulped, following her actions and licking your lips as you glanced upon hers.

“Older women?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Or you could say I’ve always liked more beautiful, mature women who know what the fuck they’re doing.” A small hint of red came to your cheeks and you cracked a small smile, causing the younger woman to chuckle softly.

“What about you? Have you ever thought about being with a girl?” Her thumb came to tease your lower lip, dragging it down slowly before she grasped your chin in her hold, not allowing you to look down in fear.

“I- I don’t…I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, I’d love to be your first. Do you want that? Do you want me, baby?” You nodded without a thought, fluttering your eyes shut as she leaned in to brush herself against you. You waited for the kiss you were anticipating, but it didn’t come. She was teasing you.

“MJ, please kiss me already.”

“Mm, I like the sound of that.” Before she could complete your request, you both heard the door open and close and jumped from one another. Your husband entered the kitchen with Peter and Ned trailing behind him, the two too engrossed in their conversation to notice the obvious elephant in the room. Your husband wasn’t however, and he hid a chuckle as he placed his suitcase on the counter.

“Hello, MJ, it’s good to see you again.”

“Hey, Mr. Parker.” He rolled his sleeves up and entered the fridge, grabbing the closest beer and taking a swig while Peter looked up at the noise.

“MJ, what are you doing here?” She shot you a glance before clearing her throat quickly, crossing her arms over her chest as she met his gaze as if nothing had ever happened.

“I left my jacket, I was just looking for it.”

“Oh, did you need any help?”

“No, I found it. We’re all good, thanks though.” He didn’t question her lack of holding the said clothing, and you sighed in relief before leading the attention away from her.

“Dinner will be done soon if you boys want to head upstairs and I’ll call you down soon.” MJ was ready to leave before Peter interrupted, a hopeful grin on his face as he held the new Lego set he just purchased.

“Do you want to stay for dinner? Me and Ned were going to work on this together, but with your help it could go by a lot quicker.” You secretly wished she’d say yes seeing as the interaction you two just held was not one to be left in the dirt.

“You two are such nerds, but fine.” The three went upstairs, MJ sharing one last glance with you before turning the corner and leaving you with your husband who had a large, teasing smirk on his face.

“Really? Peter’s friend?”

“How did you know her already?”

“He introduced me to her a few weeks ago when he stopped by Claire’s to grab his binder and I was there, I just never thought she’d try to fuck my wife.” He shrugged, laughing when you groaned in annoyance and rubbed your forehead.

“I don’t know how it happened, it just did.”

“Hey, I’m not judging, I just think you need to be careful.” You bit your lip in thought at his words.

“You don’t think Peter will be mad if he finds out? And the age gap-”

“Hey, stop that. This was your exact problem when we were dating, you worry and think too much, just let it go with the flow and be mindful of him too. If he finds out and doesn’t like it, that’s when things need to end. But if you’re happy and so is she, who cares what people think.” You knew he was right, but you also knew you had always been much too scared to date while having a son. MJ was his age, how would she handle that? And what if he was mad, upset, or worse, hated you for it? You didn’t know, but you also knew you spent that whole night wishing to relive the moment when her lips brushed against yours and imagining the feeling of them touching. You knew it would be so relieving, so why couldn’t you let yourself give in?

[taegimood]

— my girl (c.yj) ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers, non-idol au, smut, fluff rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 6.1k warnings: unprotected sex, pwp (6k but most of it is smut tbh lol), softdom!yeonjun, inexperienced!reader, dry humping, oral + fingering (f receiving), squirting, petnames (baby, princess, doll, good girl, pretty girl), daddy kink (yeonjun refers to himself as daddy), spanking, creampie, multiple orgasms (f receiving), light choking but not (he doesn’t squeeze), one instance of spitting, it’s established that jun is older than reader so OPPA IS USED AS AN HONORIFIC and idc if people hate it lol as a korean speaker i’m tired of westernizing shit

a/n - pls picture temptation era hair yeonjun 😵‍💫 this is inspired by a dream i had.. dreamt every part in his room up until the actual penetration 😮‍💨 cockblocked by my own brain

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yeonjun’s sheets are soft as you sit observing his bedroom, taking note of all the little details that his strong personality shines through, the first time you’ve seen the other side of his door — though how you even got to this point in the first place is still something you’re going over and over in your head as you wait for him to come back.

his soft smile is met with your nervous one as he enters the room with two water bottles in hand, shutting the door quietly behind him — your eyes follow his lithe fingers as he turns the lock — and you watch as he places the drinks on his nightstand before turning to you.

the air suddenly feels much warmer when he sits down on the bed beside you, so close that you’re almost touching, and that fond look on his face only serves to heighten your nerves as you remember that he knows what he’s doing, and you don’t.

well… sort of.

everything happened only a few hours before.

your best friend kai had invited you to hang out with him and his roommates, a chaotic group of guys who you’ve grown to call your friends as well; even yeonjun, who you may or may not have developed the hugest crush on ever from the minute that you’d first met him.

it’d been a few months of back-and-forth, sometimes convinced that it must be mutual and other times doubting your judgement completely — has he always been this flirty, or is it your imagination when his eyes linger just a little too long? — and it was on this fateful day at their apartment when it all fell apart.

(or should you say, all came together).

everyone knows to watch out once beomgyu’s got a couple of drinks in him, so it was only a matter of time before your unlucky day came when he’d decide that you would be his glorious first victim of the afternoon; and that was exactly where you found yourself as he took it upon himself to announce to everyone in the room that you and yeonjun needed to admit you wanna fuck each other already, or else he’d “just have to do something about it himself” (whatever that meant).

to say you wanted to crawl into a ditch and die would be the biggest understatement of the century.

your wide eyes were pinned to the floor as the room erupted into multiple reactions; soobin groaning with a smack upside beomgyu’s head as he scolded the younger not to say stuff like that, taehyun’s “damn,” as he knocked back his beer to cover a laugh, kai burying his head into his hands with a shriek — he swore he didn’t mean to spill your secret to beomgyu a few weeks ago, it just slipped out — and of course, the culprit in the center laughing his ass off unphased.

the only one who had yet to say anything was…

you steeled yourself and glanced up, meeting yeonjun’s eyes that were already watching you from across the living room.

your own widened marginally.

he didn’t look disgusted. he didn’t look put off. in fact, he looked…..

your breath caught. there was a small upturn to his lips, a confirmation, the hint of a smile that solidified as he quirked a brow as if in question. as if he was asking you,

“well? what should we do about it then?”

and everything changed from there.

~

it hadn’t taken long for beomgyu’s quick-moving attention span to be directed elsewhere thanks to some faithful effort on hyuka’s part, the others following suit to spare you from the spotlight — and it was only about an hour later when you found yourself alone in the kitchen for a breather, the sounds of your friend’s quarreling and laughter slightly less eardrum-shattering now from where you stood leaning against the sink.

a few minutes passed before the sound of someone else slipping into the room grabbed your attention.

your peace quickly morphed into apprehension.

“hi,” yeonjun whispered, a small smile on his face that read somewhere between gentle and amused.

his hands were in his pockets as he came to lean casually against the counter opposite you, head tilted slightly to the side as his eyes trailed over your expression, and you cursed your mouth for going dry at the sight of him.

his simple black tank top and sweatpants combo had you fighting to keep your eyes on his face — his face, pretty and framed so nicely by silky black hair that was grown out quite a bit longer than usual these days, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it as your thighs rubbed together subconsciously.

“…hi,” you whispered back.

he breathed out a small laugh.

“i wanted to talk to you, but i didn’t want the others to hear.. figured this was a good opportunity when i saw you get up.”

“r-right..”

why am i so awkward? what the fuck? oh god wait why is he coming closer-

your hands gripped the counter behind you as yeonjun stepped forward. his voice was low, quiet, meant only for you as he stood in front of you with a look on his face that had you melting in more ways than one.

“listen... i know that we’ve never talked about this thing between us. i didn’t wanna scare you off by being too forward, but now that beomgyu ran his mouth about it…”

with a feather-light touch, yeonjun reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“well, i’m not gonna deny what he said, and i’m pretty sure that i’m right when i say.. i think you want me the same way that i want you.”

you felt heat running down your entire body like a zap of electricity.

your fried brain didn’t even have the chance to fully process before you heard beomgyu shout from the living room, “hey, what’s taking so long?!” and the scent of yeonjun’s cologne was like a drug as he leaned in and whispered in your ear,

“if you feel ready to see where this goes.. stay here with me when they go out.”

and just like that he was gone, random assortment of snacks in hand to avoid suspicion as he called back to beomgyu, “i’m coming, just couldn’t decide what to eat!”

and you slumped against the counter with legs like jelly.

~

you received a chorus of groans and boos when you told the guys you were gonna go home instead of joining them elsewhere for dinner and drinks, earning brief suspicion only from taehyun as he eyed you questioningly for a moment — their focus primarily resting on yeonjun’s uncharacteristic opt-out that he’d blamed on a sudden migraine.

you felt ridiculous as you even headed down the elevator with them to the street outside, going out of your way to be believable, rounding the corner towards the subway station until they were well out of sight before heading back up towards the apartment.

you’d’ve been lying if you said that you didn’t consider leaving yourself; your jittery nerves and quick-beating heart nearly convincing you, until you remembered the look in yeonjun’s eyes and the wetness between your legs returned.

yeonjun, choi yeonjun, one of the most popular and charismatic guys that you know — wants you.

and now here you are on his bed.

when you think about it, in your eyes yeonjun is a lot of things that you’re not; the way he just naturally draws people in, the way he carries himself, always making friends so easily; the fact that he’s genuinely cool, somehow good at everything he does and always looks hot doing it; he’s older than you — not by much, but still — and the number one thing on your mind right now:

he’s experienced.

now you’re no virgin, but your measly 1 past boyfriend is nothing in comparison to the fact that yeonjun’s ability to please a woman is a very well-checked box on his long list of skills (if beomgyu is correct about anything he’s blabbed about, at least. which today so far he seems to be).

and now, as he sits here so close to you with that same look on his face as before, that gentle smile and amused little twinkle in his eyes — well, you know right then that you’re a goner.

“hi,” he whispers, just like he did in the kitchen earlier, and you whisper it back with a shy smile.

this is the first time you’ve ever truly been alone with him.

he looks at you for a few moments, and you wonder if this is what amoebas feel like under a microscope until he places his hand on the bed beside you and rests his weight on it, by default leaning in even closer than before.

“i like you.” he says simply.

in panic mode, you resort to sarcasm - “y-yeah-“ you clear your throat - “um, yeah, i think we established that.”

his laugh sends tingles through you as a real smile not stricken with awkwardness finally blooms on your face, the ice slowly melting for you as you start to remember that right, okay, he’s a friend and not some unreachable deity (for the most part, at least).

“i.. like you too,” you respond sheepishly, and you bite your lip at the underlying shift in his tone as he keeps his eyes locked on yours and says,

“i know.”

the mood has suddenly deepened into something else.

his hand comes up to your cheek, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “is this okay?” and you don’t know when his face got so close to yours but your eyes are already threatening to flutter shut as you hum in response, lidded gaze glued to his full, pretty lips that you want so desperately all over your body.

“words, baby.” he voice is a whisper, breath warm against your lips, his own so close now that you can almost feel them —

“y-yes.”

and just like that, choi yeonjun is kissing you.

whatever you thought a real kiss was supposed to feel like, whatever kisses you had felt with your ex —

none of it compared to this.

you feel his smile when you quietly moan, his lips even softer than you had imagined, moving against yours slowly, deliberately, expertly, the hand that had been on your cheek sliding gently to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

his tongue is warm and soft as it traces along your bottom lip, and you don’t care how eager you probably seem as you let it in immediately, trying not to moan again as he slips it past your lips to caress yours; you melt as he sucks lightly on your tongue before giving a teasing, gentle bite to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

you can’t even imagine how dazed you must look — but his knowing smile tells you enough.

you can’t explain it, but in that moment you gain a hunger-fueled confidence. you want to give yeonjun everything.

fuck, you want him bad.

you’re pulling him back to you faster than you can chicken out otherwise, and the pleased noise he makes as you connect your lips again only spurs you on further to do what you’ve been so badly wanting to:

you touch him, hands sliding from his shoulders up to his soft hair, pulling at it gently as his lips travel down your jaw to suckle at the skin of your neck; you moan, freely this time, eyes sliding shut and head tilting back to give him all the access he wants as you wrap an arm around his shoulders and keep him close.

his hand slides around your waist to your lower back as he slowly guides you down to lay against his sheets, your legs instinctively widening for him as he slots his hips between them, and you groan at the bulge now resting comfortably against your clothed core.

it doesn’t take long before he gently rocks his hips forwards.

you whimper, clutching to his tank top as he continues to kiss and suckle along your neck; your legs tighten around his hips and his lips tilt into a smirk against your skin as your body responds to his like it’s what it was made for, and so he does it again, this time continuing into a steady rocking pace.

the hardness of his cock drags deliciously against your center as he rolls his hips into it again and again, slow enough so that you feel everything, but firm enough that it makes your head spin and your thighs twitch with need.

“oppa,” you whisper, pleadingly, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for but you know that you just need more.

“hm?” he hums back, lips still sucking pretty bruises into your neck,

and it’s like he can read your mind as he asks with another smirk against your skin - “want more, baby?”

you nod quickly with a weak, “mhm,” and your heart jumps as his lips move up to your ear.

“tell oppa what you want.”

the husk of his voice sends shivers straight downwards.

he pulls away just enough for you to meet his eyes and you feel like a rabbit hunted down by a fox, but in your case, you never want to escape from his grasp.

“i.. i-i want…”

you can feel the heat blooming in your cheeks, remembering once again how much you haven’t experienced, and you want to tell him exactly where you want him to put his mouth — but instead your eyes avert from his as you mumble in admission,

“i-i’ve never been… well i’ve never been eaten out before. s-so.. um..”

in your peripheral you can see yeonjun’s brows lift to his hairline in disbelief. “what?”

a finger beneath your chin gently draws your gaze back to his and the genuine bewilderment in his eyes is enough to deepen your blush as he asks, “how could that bastard have possibly survived never tasting you?”

your body buzzes with electricity as your eyes widen; there’s a hunger and determination dancing in yeonjun’s stare that you’ve never been looked at with before.

his intensity makes you shiver in anticipation and it’s like you can taste the honey dripping from his words when he says,

“let me make you feel good, baby. let me give you everything that he should’ve.”

your head spins.

you’ve never felt so desired.

the second that you say okay, yeonjun places one last dizzying kiss to your lips before he’s moving down your body, guiding you out of your shirt as he slowly maps out your skin with his lips — you breathe out a sigh at the way his large hands caress you, intentionality in every touch.

eventually he sits up on his knees, pulling back from a kiss to your navel to reach for the hem of your panties. you shiver when his fingers ghost over your hips.

“lift for me,” he instructs softly, and you do, biting your lip as he begins to slowly pull them down, eyes glued to your cunt, and you watch the way his breath hitches in his throat at the strings of wetness that cling to the fabric.

“fuck,” he whispers, practically groans,

“can’t believe no one’s ever tasted such a pretty pussy before… gonna eat you so good, baby..”

you’re going out of your mind with need, his words alone sending another gush of arousal to your heat, your hungry eyes traveling down to trace the imprint of his rock-hard cock in his sweatpants.

teasingly you ghost your foot over it as he slides your panties from your ankles, and his eyes flicker up to yours as you stare back innocently; his gaze narrows and lips quirk up into a lopsided smirk as his warm hands slide up your legs.

“getting brave, now, are we?” he taunts, stopping at your thighs as he wraps his hands around them and spreads your legs open.

slowly he lowers himself between them, all the while keeping his eyes on yours, and your hips jump at the whisper of his breath against your aching cunt when he says,

“better be careful, doll… any game you try to play, i can play it better.”

and when his fingers spread you open and his lips kiss your clit, you already know that he’s ruined you for any other man.

how could you even dream of anyone else when the tip of yeonjun’s velvety tongue slips out to trace teasingly up and down your slit, or when the pad of his finger circles so lightly around your leaking hole that you might even be imagining it?

no, there’s no way you could be imagining this, not as the warmth of his mouth caresses you as he closes his lips around your clit and gently begins to suck, your head tipping back with a shudder as you whine at the feeling.

“eyes on me, princess,” he murmurs against your cunt, and when you manage to bring your gaze back to his, the sight before you is sinful.

his foxlike eyes dark and dangerous and twinkling as he watches you through his lashes, pretty lips forming a smirk that you can only feel and not see as he whispers “good girl,” - before the next thing you know, his tongue is flattening against you as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy, big hands keeping your jerking hips in place as he begins to ravish you, sucking, licking, kissing, groaning shamelessly at the taste of you and sending vibrations straight through your quivering core as you unravel beneath his touch.

“so fucking good,” he moans, sliding a finger inside of you with ease as he begins to pump it steadily in and out, practically making out with your pussy as you whimper, hands instinctively flying to his hair — you almost pull them away when suddenly he adds another digit, the stretch causing your fingers to tighten in his dark strands as your hips instinctively grind forwards against his mouth.

you’re about to apologize when yeonjun moans even deeper than before.

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts, “use my face. want it so bad, don’t you? go ahead and chase it, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

something unholy snaps inside of you at that.

“f-fuck-” you cry, doing exactly as he said; you can’t help it as you grind your clit down on his warm tongue over and over and over, hands tightening in his hair as his fingers work impossibly faster, and a new sensation takes over you as the dam breaks and you reach your peak;

you don’t realize what’s happening at first as you’re carried through the most mind-blowing orgasm, until you feel the unusual amount of wetness soaking his sheets and hear yeonjun groaning “fuck, fuck, that’s it, baby, that’s it -“ and he’s three fingers deep as you realize you’re squirting.

it’s as though he can read your body like a book the way he can tell when it’s suddenly too much, his pace slowing gradually until he gently slides his fingers from your sopping hole, placing a final feather-light kiss to your clit before his lips and hands move to soothe your quivering thighs.

“you did so good, baby, holy shit..” the bottom half of his face is soaked in your juices as he mouths along your skin, hands massaging and caressing whatever his lips aren’t kissing;

you’re still bewildered, and can feel the raging blush on your cheeks as you’re quick to blurt in embarrassment, “i-i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to-“

“y/n.” yeonjun looks up. “seriously, that was so fucking hot, you have no idea.”

you can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.

“r-really?”

he laughs, finally sitting up; “baby, i- fuck, like, you actually have no fucking idea how sexy you are.” he pushes his hair out of his face and it’s only then that you realize how heavy he’s breathing, the bulge straining against his pants somehow a million times more prominent than it was earlier.

“y/n, i’m so turned on right now that i can hardly think straight. please-“

you meet his eyes again quickly,

“please, i need to be inside you.”

apparently today is the day that you learn just how crazy choi yeonjun makes you, because despite your still-twitching thighs and your pussy so sensitive that you’re sure a slight breeze would send it into overdrive, your body is quick to betray you at his toe-curling words when your walls clench from the emptiness and a fresh wave of arousal gushes from your soaked heat.

“if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna go clinically insane.”

his brows lift only for a moment before he’s laughing, swooping down to catch your lips in a kiss. “well we can’t have that, now, can we?”

he gets off the bed, your eyes hungrily tracking his every move as he peels the tank top from his torso and casts it to the ground; “fuck,” you whisper as your gaze trails down the defined ridges of his abs; “fuck,” you groan when he hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down with his boxers in one go.

his cock is long and slender and flushed pink, the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen as you imagine the weight of it in your mouth.

if it were anyone else, you’d wanna slap the shit-eating grin right off of his face, but this is yeonjun, and the fact that he knows he’s all that only makes him 10x hotter.

you can’t tear your eyes away from his length as you sit up on your elbows to watch, and he enjoys it, pumping himself in his hand and smearing the pre-cum around his tip with a satisfied hum.

but as he reaches for the condoms in his desk drawer, you surprise both him and yourself when you stop him.

“no.”

he pauses, looking over his shoulder at you with quirked brows —

“want you to fuck me raw.”

his mouth goes dry. you can see the fire dancing in his eyes as he slowly straightens, keeping himself under control as he asks carefully,

“are you sure?”

you bite your lip and quickly nod. “wanna feel you,” you breathe, and that does it for yeonjun as he’s back on top of you in an instant, his lips pressing to yours in a searing kiss as you moan around his swirling tongue.

his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just resting there as if to say you’re mine, and you whine deep in your chest when you feel the tip of his cock sliding through your slippery folds.

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy so full of my cum that it’ll be dripping out of it for days,” he rasps as he taps the head of his cock repeatedly over your clit, the lewd noise met with your whimpers as you grasp at his bicep.

“please,” you whine, “want it, please-!”

his hand slides from your neck down to squeeze your tit as he sits up and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder with his free hand.

“so good for me,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and lusting as he looks down at you, dragging his shaft back and forth along your slick pussy; “such a good girl, begging for daddy.”

and when he finally pushes the head of his cock past your entrance, stretching you open as he sinks inside, stars explode behind your eyes and you nearly cum again right there on the spot.

“fuuck..” he groans in a drawn-out moan, eyes sliding shut and head tipping back as your walls suck him in, mouth falling open before he catches his plush bottom lip between his teeth and looks back down at you through hazy eyes, giving another rough squeeze to your tit in his grasp.

he slides his hand down to press against your lower belly as he bottoms out, your hips twitching as you gasp, and with his other hand he grips your leg that’s slung over his shoulder as he begins to grind his hips against yours.

you can’t breathe, can’t speak, overwhelmed by how fucking good it all feels, the head of his cock massaging places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed as he rolls his hips over and over, whispering fucked-out nothings;

how tight you are, how good you feel, how he’s gonna make you forget your own name by tomorrow.

and when he starts really moving, hips separating from yours only to connect again with a lewd slap of skin on skin each time he delivers a slow, firm thrust to your cunt, holding you in place so you don’t jolt up the bed — well, you never knew that something so delicious existed, and now that you’ve had a taste, you’re already rendered insatiable.

you paw at any part of him that you can reach, hands finding purchase on his thighs as his pace picks up into a steady rhythm, your lips moaning and pleading and begging around words that you can hardly get out of your mouth.

“look at you,” yeonjun coos breathlessly, “so drunk on my cock already.. perfect pussy made just for me, hm? taking daddy so well? good baby.”

he looks as blissed out as you feel, face wracked in pleasure as he picks up the pace, his hand so large where it still presses over your lower belly that his thumb is able to reach your clit, and the added stimulation along with the pressure of his palm sends your head lolling as you twitch and tremble underneath him.

“j-jjunie..!” you whimper, and you can’t help the nickname from slipping between your lips; you’ve never called him so intimately before, never said his name so freely, but your accidental drop of honorifics seems to stir something inside of him as he groans and fucks you harder;

“say that again,” he grunts as you gasp out from the sudden increase in pace.

“jjunie,” you keen immediately, gripping the sheets, gripping his arms, gripping anything as a muttered curse leaves his lips and his thumb circles faster around your aching clit.

“love it when you say my name, fuck,” he groans, hips slamming into yours and jolting you like a ragdoll as you cry out for him, the knot in your stomach tightening so fast that you swear it’s about to snap, and when he leans forward with your leg still gripped over his shoulder and his cock pounding into you at a far deeper angle than before, fireworks fill your vision as you cum around him harder than you’ve ever came in your life.

“yes, yes, yes, fuck, that’s it, cream on my cock, baby, fuck you’re so- s-so tight, fuck- just like that, let go for me, baby, good girl-“

yeonjun’s voice sounds far away as you spasm around him, his thrusts growing sloppier as your cunt clenches him so tight that it nearly forces him out; he lowers your leg back down to the bed and slows down a little to let you catch your breath but he doesn’t stop, and your watery whimpers are like music to his ears as you clutch onto him desperately.

“t-too much, too much-!” you hiccup, tears spilling from your eyes at all the overwhelming sensations, but you don’t actually want him to stop and he knows it too — he coos at you, hand sliding up to rest on your throat again as he leans down and licks a stripe up your neck to your ear.

“you can give me one more, baby, can’t you?”

a shiver rolls down your spine at the devilish smile in his voice, sweet like honey as he catches your earlobe between his teeth.

“one more so daddy can stuff you nice and full.”

your pussy clenches. “w-want your cum,” you whimper dumbly in response, too fucked out to think of anything else, and yeonjun smiles as he leans back and runs his hands down your body until they reach your hips and squeeze.

“i know,” his thrusts are still steady as he watches you with twinkling eyes; “and i’m gonna give it to you.”

your eyes widen in protest as he suddenly slides out of you without a warning, but the words die in your throat and are replaced with a squeak of surprise when he flips you over onto your stomach instead.

“ass up for me, pretty girl.”

you obey immediately with what strength you have left in your shaky limbs, a quiet whine escaping your throat over not being able to see or touch him anymore.

his little laugh from behind you indicates that he caught it.

“don’t worry, baby,” he soothes as his hands massage over your ass, “we have all the time in the world.”

your heart doesn’t even have time to skip a beat at the promise of his words when suddenly his tongue is on your pussy, your knees nearly buckling at the heat of his mouth as he licks from your clit up to your fluttering hole, and you gasp as he spits on it before his cock enters you fully in one single thrust.

you cry out, knees buckling for real this time as he holds you up, sheets crumpled in your fists as his hips immediately pick up into a quick, dizzying pace.

“love the way you fall apart around me,” he murmurs from behind you, squeezing your ass, “love how you take me so well…”

you want to touch him so badly, want to see the pleasure pooling in his eyes; you don’t have time to respond before he lands a smack on your ass, your surprised squeak spurring him on as he does it again, drilling into your cute little hole like it was made just for him as he breathes out a moan.

from this angle he can see the way your pussy swallows him so hungrily, and his grip on your hips tightens as he drags you back and forth on his cock.

“love.. l-love your.. love this so much… w-wanna be yours…”

he almost misses your dazed mumbling over the loud sound of his hips slapping lewdly against your ass, but he makes out what you said, heart swelling in his chest and cock simultaneously twitching inside of you as he leans forward, his palm sliding up along your spine to brush the hair from your fucked-out face as he pushes your body down against the sheets, chest pressed to your back now and breath caressing your ear as he continues rocking his hips even deeper.

“you’re mine, baby, you’re mine..” he whispers between kisses along your jaw, a reassurance, your soft whimper of a response causing him to bite back a smile as he continues,

“i’ve wanted you for so long.. can’t believe i finally get to have you.” his hand slips beneath you to toy with your throbbing clit, and your ass grinds back against him as a result as you moan wantonly into his sheets.

“i’ve been yours since the.. fuck.. since the second i s-saw you..fuck, p-please don’t stop..!”

your hips are moving with his now as he works your clit faster, mustering your strength and pushing your weight back as you desperately try to fuck yourself on his cock, on his fingers, chasing the rising wave in your belly that’s threatening to break as he meets your quickening movements with his own.

“touch yourself for me, baby,” he murmurs in your ear before removing his hand and propping himself up on his forearms, allowing for a more concentrated angle as he ruts into you, your choked moan muffled by the sheets as you immediately slide one hand down to rub rapidly at your clit, your other one weakly moving to tangle your fingers with his the best that you can;

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whimper, drool pooling at your lips, the scent of yeonjun’s cologne and the weight of his body on yours like pure intoxication as he fucks you harder, breaths heavy and staggering in your ear as he grunts,

“cum for me, baby, need to feel it, cum all over my fucking cock-“

and when your third orgasm washes over you, you’re too weak to do anything but let it, body going limp as it wracks over you in pure bliss, the warm feeling of your clenching walls finally sending yeonjun over the edge this time as he shoots his cum into you with a loud and drawn-out moan, voice breaking as he spews filthy words and incoherent curses; he presses his hips impossibly deep against yours before stuttering into sloppy thrusts to fuck himself through the rest of his orgasm as your fluttering pussy milks his cock of every last drop.

the room grows silent save for your heavy breaths, both of your chests heaving as his forehead slumps down to rest against your back; you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding onto his hand until you carefully untangle your fingers from his.

he hisses from the sensitivity as he slides his twitching length out of you.

you look at yeonjun as he rolls off of your back and flops exhaustedly onto his side next to you, and when he meets your eyes, there’s only a passing moment of silence before you both giggle.

his smile is fond and blooming with affection as he rubs a hand up and down your back, moving to smoothe the hair from your face and gently brushing his knuckles across your cheek before resting his hand on top of yours.

“hi,” he whispers.

you giggle again.

“hi,” you whisper back.

“so.. would this be a good time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

your heart skips a beat and you bite back a smile. “i was worried you’d just want to stick to the sex..” you admit.

yeonjun shakes his head, lips forming into an endearing pout as he laces his fingers with yours.

“nah, you’re stuck with me now, princess,” he grins. “i meant what i said… i’ve been wanting you for so long.”

an indescribable feeling flutters in your chest as you giddily turn your head to bury your face in the sheets, yeonjun laughing as he shuffles closer, rolling you over onto your back despite your giggle-ridden, poorly-executed attempts to fight him off.

you grin up at him and he grins down at you, hovering over you now with a hand on your cheek as his endeared eyes trail over each of your features as if to memorize them.

“my girl,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you tilt your head up to meet his lips when he leans in and kisses you softly, your hands playing with the long hair at the nape of his neck.

“i meant what i said too,” you murmur against him.

“mine since the second you saw me, huh?” yeonjun’s cocky grin is light and teasing as you scrunch your nose at him, flicking his forehead and sending him into another pout.

“yeah, yeah. whatever, pretty boy.”

instead of responding he buries his face in your neck in a flurry of kisses as you squeal in surprise, laughing as you wiggle around underneath him;“stop, that tickles!”

“gotta make up for all the lost time when i didn’t make a move,” he reasons as his kisses move to your cheeks, your nose, your lips — you’ve never seen this side of yeonjun before, so soft and gentle and sweet; the fact that it seems reserved only for you sends butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

you spend your evening like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as you talk about your relationship, talk about the feelings that led you here, talk about this and that and everything in-between;

“does this count as our first date?” you ask quizzically. he wrinkles his nose.

“no way, i’m gonna do the most romantic shit ever for that.”

you snort. “isn’t that what this is?”

but you don’t have the chance to tease him any further when the beeping sound of his apartment passcode being entered causes you both to freeze.

you were so caught up that neither of you considered the time; nor the fact that yeonjun does indeed have 4 other roommates who would in fact be coming home at some point or another.

that some point apparently being now as the rowdy chatter of your friends erupts into the foyer until you suddenly hear soobin’s tipsy mumble. “what the… what are y/n’s shoes doing here?”

you and yeonjun turn to look at each other as your friends’ voices fall silent.

the seconds pass and you almost wonder if you’re in the clear…

but of course, no peace lasts forever with beomgyu in the house.

“OH MY GOD,” he screams.

“THEY FUCKED!”

[michaelsfavgirl]

through the keyhole

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: While Michael attends to his duties as a devoted husband (taking you to pound town), the maids arrive unnoticed. Drawn by the sinful sounds echoing from your bedroom, they find themselves unable to resist eavesdropping.

Tags: smut, established-relationship (y'all are married <3), OCs, p in v, mating press, voyeurism, creampie, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, lots of drama, legal ramifications, mike being the worlds no. 1 husband.

Word Count: 7.2k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Although I'm proud of this, the writing process for this was hell! But anyway, I need detailed reports on what y'all think about everything as compensation, thank you very much.

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The noise of the curtains fluttering from the warm wind and the quiet chatter of the TV wakes you from your slumber. It's most definitely way past the acceptable time for a lie-in, probably closer to noon, but you don't care. With the way last night ended, with shared moans bouncing off the walls, no one could blame you. He had been so desperate for your touch after shutting himself in the studio for hours, hungrily taking you again and again until you couldn't string sentences together anymore.

Speaking of the incubus himself, as you open your eyes, before you can even muster up the strength to stretch your sore limbs, you're met with a tantalizing sight of Michael sprawled out on the bed next to you, absentmindedly watching the television. He's leaning against a pillow propped up against the headboard, completely nude. This isn't surprising, but what captures your attention is his soft and heavy length resting enticingly against his thigh, looking as delicious as ever. You try to ignore the slickness pooling between your thighs.

His cock is a sight to behold, thick and veiny, with a prominent ridge running along the underside. The head, peeks out from his uncut foreskin, is swollen and glistening with remnants of your previous night's activities. You  can't tear your eyes away from it, from the way it lays there just waiting for your touch.

You groan inwardly. How is he so nonchalant about this? How can he just sit there, so casually, with his massive cock on full display? Doesn't he know what effect it has on you, how it makes you crave him like nothing else?

You keep staring shamelessly, your eyes trailing every little detail. In your already fuzzy state, you don't notice Michael glancing at you, an amused smile growing on his face as he follows your half-lidded gaze.

Teasingly, he readjusts his body, making his hips thrust upwards slightly, causing his thick cock to bounce a little. You whimper quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. That sound doesn't even register in your mind until you hear him chuckle. Your eyes dart upwards to his face, feeling your cheeks grow hotter under his amused gaze.

"Enjoying the view, huh?" he teases, and you quickly turn onto your back, facing the opposite direction to avoid his stare.

"None of that," he murmurs, reaching over to cup your face and gently turn your gaze back to him. "Look at me."

And you do. Goodness gracious, how does he manage to be so gorgeous even with his curls messily framing his face? Your eyes linger on his lips as you try not to look directly into his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk as he gently positions your face higher, silently commanding you to meet his gaze.

His long fingers trace your cheeks as he brings your faces closer together, forehead to forehead, noses bumping. He leaves the softest of kisses on your cheeks before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and unrushed; he doesn't even bother moving his lips much, just softly keeps them pressed against yours.

"Did you sleep well, baby?" he asks after pulling away, making you unconsciously lean in for more. You nod and nuzzle your cheek deeper into his warm palm. "Yeah? I'm not too surprised," he says, trying to suppress a smirk. You had fallen asleep last night while he was cleaning you up during aftercare, that's how thoroughly he had tired you out, but it's not like you're complaining. You playfully hit his chest..

Michael's chuckle rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your skin as you lay there, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He shifts slightly, the movement drawing your eyes back down to his impressive length. He notices and smirks again, his hand moving to gently guide your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze once more.

"I know what you’re thinking about," he begins, his voice a low, seductive purr, “know what you’re craving."

Your breath hitches at his words, the passion in his eyes making your heart flutter. His thumb strokes your cheek, and he leans in, pressing another tender but more heated kiss to your lips. The kiss deepens this time, his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring your mouth with a languid passion that leaves you breathless. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark with desire.

His hands trail from your hips to your naked pussy, cupping it in his large palm, feeling the warm skin against his hand. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, making you gasp. His finger slips through your folds, gliding between your glistening flesh with ease. He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear, "Always so needy, aren't you?"

Before you can respond with an eye roll at his usual teasing, he moves on top of you, spreading your thighs wide. Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him. He groans at the sight of your drenched pussy, marveling at it for what feels like an eternity. His eyes hungrily stare at your already pulsing clit, desperately begging for attention.

 "Do I have to fuck you every morning for you to function properly?"

Your heartbeat quickens at his words, your hips bucking towards him instinctively. He spreads your thighs even farther apart, shushing your whines with an authoritative raise of his brows. "You know what to say," he prompts, his voice low and commanding.

"...Please touch me," you murmur shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He decides to tease you further, enjoying the power he has over you, "What was that? I didn't quite hear you."

"Please, Michael," you beg, a little louder this time, "please fuck me."

"That's more like it," he says with a satisfied expression, taking in your already needy state before reaching over to his nightstand. He opens the top drawer and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount onto his lengthy shaft. He strokes his cock a few times, ensuring it's well-lubricated. Without the lube, it's impossible for him to ever make love to you without unwanted pain; he's just too big. Whatever's left on his fingers he spreads it across your already glossy folds, circling your hole for longer than is necessary. 

He gives you a look, silently making sure you still want this. After you nod enthusiastically he positions himself at your tight entrance, dragging his swollen tip up and down your flesh before gently pushing in the head, watching as your cunt stretches around him. With the events of last night, it's not as difficult as it might have been otherwise. His cockhead slips past your folds with ease, and you already feel yourself clenching around him.

"Needy girl," he murmurs under his breath, his voice thick with desire.

He torturously slowly slides half of his cock into your wetness and pulls out. Repeating this endlessly until his fat length is fully swallowed by your greedy pussy, “There we go,” he breathes out at finally watching your folds stretch around his thickness. His prominent veins deliciously rub against your slick walls, eliciting breathless moans from your lips. Your eyes flutter from the stretch, the sensation overwhelming, head pressing deeper into the plush pillow.

He steals a peck from your lips and squeezes your hips. He thrusts slowly at first, hips grinding smoothly at a mellow pace, savoring every inch of you. Consequently, making you think he's going to go easy on you but when has Michael Jackson ever been predictable?

At a speed that has your eyes widening he presses you further into the bed, folding your legs closer to your shoulders, putting you in a deep mating press that leaves you breathless. Before you can utter more than his name, he drives his hips against the back of your thighs, completely filling you up. “Jesus fucking christ Michael.” you choked out.

He picks up the pace, ramming his meaty cock into your squelching pussy. Your essence creates a white ring around his base, making him groan in pleasure. This new angle allows you to feel every inch of him deeper and deeper inside you. You can't control yourself, your moans growing louder and louder. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open as filthy whines and moans escape.

As he keeps pounding you into the mattress, he looks at your face and almost cums on the spot. The sounds in the bedroom are sinful - a mix of your moans and his grunts blending together, the bed banging against the wall with every hard thrust of his hips, skin slapping rhythmically.

"Look at you, already going dumb on my cock," he awes, his voice full of adoration.

You nod while not quite sure what you’re agreeing to, his words barely registering in your mind through the haze of pleasure. His smirk widens at your response, watching your nails dig into the sheets. The room starts to fill with the smell of sex, the musky scent only turning him on more.

He continues to fuck you fast and hard, his coily pubic hair rubbing against your throbbing clit, making your hips buck, chasing more of that sweet friction. Your moans grow louder, and if his cock wasn't so good, you'd try to be quieter. But all you can think about is how good he feels inside you, stretching you, filling you completely.

Your heavenly sounds drive him wild, he loves how in the mornings your sleepiness makes you more uninhibited, your cries ringing through his ears. But still, he decides to reach over towards the remote, turning up the volume of the TV to drown out the noises. Although he's never cared about the maids or security hearing him, he knows that when you come down from your high, you'll appreciate this gesture. 

As you both lose yourselves in the throes of passion, the maids: Annie, Susie, and Diana make their way towards the entrance of the sprawling estate for their weekly cleaning duties. The warm rays of the sun cast a serene ambiance over the grounds, punctuated by the tranquil chirping of birds, blissfully masking the storm of debauchery that awaits them inside.

"You know, I still can't believe they faked everything," Susie remarks, squinting against the sunlight.

"I'm actually not that surprised, they always seemed fishy to me," Annie replies and smiles at Susie’s scrunched up face.

"Come on now, they named themselves Milli Vanilli, what kind of name is that?" Diana chimes in, adding her two cents to the conversation.

As they ascend the doorsteps and open the front door, entering the home, Annie continues her thought, "I mean, all singers lip-sync now. They're just the ones that got ca—"

Diana abruptly pinches Annie’s arm, cutting her off with a sharp sting, "Ow, what the hell—"

"Girl, shush!" Diana whispers urgently, motioning for silence.

The three maids strain their ears, their attention drawn by the unmistakable erotic sounds emanating from the bedroom—a rhythm of skin slapping against skin, accentuated by soft moans and gasps. Susie instinctively covers her mouth, freezing in place with wide eyes. None of them move a muscle as they process what they are hearing.

"Are they…?" Annie starts tentatively.

"Oh, absolutely." With wide eyes they exchange shocked glances. None of them move a muscle, unsure how to handle the unexpected discovery. Honestly how do you go about stumbling across your boss fucking his wife? 

Diana, always the boldest of the trio, begins to tiptoe toward the hallway leading to the bedroom, prompting panicked whispers from the others.

"Diana! What are you doing?" Annie hisses urgently.

Rolling her eyes, Diana smirks back at them. "As if you two aren't just as curious," she retorts, continuing her stealthy approach toward the imposing double doors that shield a scene of raw intimacy unfolding behind them. Annie and Susie exchange resigned groans but follow cautiously behind.

Pressing their ears against the wood, they strain to catch every moan and whispered utterance, their curiosity piqued despite the scandalous nature of their eavesdropping.

"This is crazy," Susie breathes out in a hushed voice.

Unaware of the maids' clandestine surveillance, Michael drives into you with unrelenting force, his powerful hips slamming with yours in a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the delicious sensation of every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you to your limits. Your back arches instinctively, your slick walls gripping him tightly, sucking him deeper into your warmth.

"Greedy fucking pussy," Michael's voice groans with desire, strained with the effort of holding back. he mutters, the words laced with need. "Squeezing me so tight."

"P-please," you stutter, your voice barely a whisper amid the relentless assault of his powerful thrusts. "It’s too much."

"You can take it," he growls, his breath hot against your skin as he leans closer, his chain dangling temptingly in front of your face. "I know you can. You’re my good girl." His movements are deliberate, claiming you completely.

In a moment of pure instinct, you gently bite his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as pleasure overtakes you. The bed beneath you rocks with each forceful rock of his hips, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall. The murmur of the TV in the background does little to mask the crescendo of your combined moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

He adjusts his position slightly, angling his length to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. Your entire body trembles with the promise of release, his warm breath against your neck adding to the overwhelming sensations flooding your senses.

Meanwhile, outside the bedroom, Susie murmurs breathlessly, "Y’all hearing this shit?" Her pulse quickens with excitement. "I’ve never heard anything like it."

"That damn TV, can’t hear anything," Diana complains, pressing her ear harder against the wall in a futile attempt to drown out the sounds from within.

"They're really going at it, huh?" Annie whispers, trying to stifle a chuckle. "Didn't know Mr. Jackson had it in him." Her eyes widen with playful astonishment. "I mean, I knew he was passionate, but this...?"

"Lord forgive me for sinning," Susie quips, crossing herself dramatically as Diana giggles at her theatrics. "Oh, stop it, you."

"And half the country thinks he's a virgin," Annie adds with a sly grin. "Isn't that ironic?" Their cheeky banter fades as they're filled with arousal and a twinge of envy, listening intently to the man they've all undoubtedly fantasized about, lost in passion with his beloved behind closed doors.

Back in the bedroom, Michael pulls back to look into your eyes, his own darkened with lust. He grips your jaw and "You like that, baby? You like being fucked like this?" His words send shivers down your spine, your gummy walls instantly tighten around him.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice breaking with need. "God, yes."

"I want you to make a mess on my cock," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, igniting a fresh wave of heat within you. "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You nod eagerly, breathless whimpers escaping your lips.

"Listen to how loud she's moaning," Annie murmurs from outside, her voice tinged with envy. "She must be feeling real good."

As you approach the brink of release, Michael grins devilishly, his movements becoming almost frantic to draw out the exquisite tension building between you. With every plunge of his fat cock sliding deeper and deeper, kissing your cervix, your legs tremble, your body quivering as you hurtle toward release. You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, driving you to a point of true wanton. Uninhibited, sinful moans echo through the room as you claw at the sheets.

Unable to handle your pulsing walls clinging to him he pounds you into the mattress, chasing his own high. As your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat you try to calm down but the feeling on his bulbous tip flooding your pussy with his hot spurts of cum pushes you towards overstimulation. He sucks love marks on your neck to stifle his groans, as he feels his voluminous cum fill you up completely. He doesn't slow down, riding out your climax, driving you higher and higher until you're nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

Outside, the maids are spellbound, ears pressed against the door, their own breaths quickening in unison with yours.

"Oh my fucking God," Susie whispers, barely audible over the symphony of pleasure spilling from the bedroom. 

"Shh!" 

The maids, captivated, listen intently to your gasps as you climax. They wait a few more moments, taking in the heavy breathing and murmurs of endearment between you and Michael. Once the sounds start to subside, Diana gestures for them to move. “We should get out of here before they catch us.” 

“Uh huh,” Susie agrees, her voice trembling slightly. They tiptoe away from the door, retreating to an empty room down the hall, locking themselves in.

Once inside, they're all breathing heavily, heart pounding in their chests. The air is thick with anticipation, their faces flushed with arousal.

"I- uh…holy shit," Susie’s voice is hushed but tinged with excitement. "She was so loud."

"No shit," Annie replies, her own breath still coming in short bursts. "I mean, it sounded like he was breaking her in half."

“You reckon his dick is really as big as they say?” 

“Jesus Christ D, give us a moment to breathe.”

“I’m just saying, that girl’s always so quiet and sweet you know? Don’t think she’d be the type to fake her moans unless that dick is real good.'' Diana shrugs with a little grin on her face.

Susie fans herself with her hands, trying to cool down. “Yeah that's true, she’s always blushing and looking down when she talks to us, but here she is taking all that from him.”

Annie tries to be civil about all this but can’t help but add, “you think they go at it all the time?”

Diana’s grin grows wider as she nods. “You know it ain’t just a quick thing either, he probably takes his time too, making sure she’s thoroughly satisfied.”

“Lucky girl. I wouldn't mind being in her shoes,” Susie says dreamily.

Diana leans against the door, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You and me both,” she continues, “I gotta say, we have to do that again."

Annie looks at her, bewildered. "Are you crazy? We can’t just stand outside their door listening to them fuck."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. With how hard they were going at it, it's not far-fetched to think they'll do it again tonight. We should wait till they go back to their bedroom and listen in again."

"Absolutely not," Annie insists, crossing her arms defiantly. "That's crossing a line."

But Diana persists, knowing the curiosity and desire are mutual. "Oh, stop with this fake righteous act, y’all liked it, admit it."

Annie looks to Susie for support, but she just shrugs, clearly intrigued by the idea. Diana smirks, sensing victory. "See? Even Susie wants more." Susie, usually the shy one, surprises Annie by siding with Diana. "I mean… It was kinda hot.”

Annie huffs but doesn't entirely reject the idea. Diana’s enthusiasm is infectious, and deep down, Annie knows she’s curious too. "Fine. But how are we gonna do it without getting caught?"

Diana’s smirk grows wider. "We just gotta be smart about it. We know their routine. Once they’re back in the bedroom tonight, we’ll sneak up and listen. Simple." 

Annie finally relents, though still cautious. "If we get caught, it’s on you, D."

Diana grins, clearly enjoying the thrill. "Trust me, it'll be worth it." The three of them continue to hash out their plot, excitement hanging thick in the air.

The trio finally compose themselves after their illicit eavesdropping and gossip session, deciding it's time to actually get to work. They set about their cleaning tasks, though the air between them crackles with the shared secret. Every now and then, one of them breaks the silence with a hushed comment or a knowing glance, the earlier events still fresh in their minds.

As they tidy the living room, the sound of a door opening draws their attention. Michael and you emerge from the bedroom, your body language relaxed and content, a stark contrast to the intense passion that had filled the room earlier. Michael's arm drapes protectively around your waist as he guides you towards the kitchen, his touch gentle and reassuring.

The maids exchange glances, curiosity piqued once more. "Look at them," Susie whispers, her voice barely above a breath. "She looks so satisfied."

Annie, ever the observant one, nods and without looking up continues to do her job. "Bet she is.”

Diana snickers. "Yeah, she looks fucked out, she was moaning so loud. Damn near broke my eardrums." if they hadn't heard your desperate pleas and whimpers they’d definitely find it hard to question your innocence.

From their vantage point in the living room, they peek into the kitchen. You sit down heavily on one of the chairs, your body spent and exhausted, fingers lazily tracing random patterns on the marble counter as you lean your head on your arm . Michael kisses the top of your head and moves with practiced ease, starting to prepare a quick meal for you. His movements are efficient yet tender, his focus solely on making sure you're taken care of.

As you absentmindedly glance around, your eyes meet Susie's. You smile gently and give her a small wave. For a moment, there's a flash of recognition in her widened eyes before she quickly returns the greeting with a shy nod. She turns back to Annie and Diana, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"She saw me," Susie whispers, her voice a mixture of panic and excitement. "She smiled and waved."

Diana snorts. "Probably too blissed out to care. Look at her. She’s got that post-fuck glow."

Annie rolls her eyes, but a small smile plays on her lips. "You two are incorrigible. But yeah, she does look pretty content."

The trio continues their cleaning, though their attention frequently strays back to the kitchen. They can't help but watch as Michael moves about, his focus unwavering as he prepares something for you. Every now and then, he glances your way, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"He’s so attentive," Annie murmurs, almost to herself. "I mean, he just spent all that time… you know… and now he’s making sure she’s okay. That’s so sweet."

Diana smirks. "Yeah, he’s definitely got enough left in him for round two tonight. I can tell.” 

Susie bites her lip, clearly torn between embarrassment and curiosity. "I just hope we don't get caught."

As they continue to clean, their whispers and giggles fill the room, the earlier intensity of their task somewhat forgotten in light of their newfound entertainment. They dust the same shelves over and over again just because the view of the kitchen is by far the best from that specific angle. The sight of you and Michael in the kitchen, a picture of post-coital domesticity, only fuels their fascination.

Michael, sensing your exhaustion, walks over to you with a plate of food. "Here you go, sweetheart," he says softly, placing the plate in front of you. "You need to eat something."

You smile up at him, your gratitude evident in your eyes. He smiles and sits down next to you, watching you with adoring eyes.

The maids watch this exchange with keen interest. "He’s so good to her," Susie whispers, a note of envy in her voice.

Diana rolls her eyes playfully. "Of course he is. You heard how he was talking to her. ‘You’re my good girl,’" she mimics, her voice dripping with mock lust. "He’s got her wrapped around his finger."

Annie, who has been silent for a while, finally speaks up. "You know, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about them like this. It’s kind of… invasive."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh my god, Annie. Live a little. They’re not gonna find out. Besides, it’s not like we’re hurting anyone."

They continue their tasks, though their eyes frequently stray back to the kitchen. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of lingering arousal and the thrill of having witnessed something so private. As they finish up in the living room and move to another part of the house, they can’t help but continue their whispered conversation. "So, we’re still following through with the plan?" Susie asks, her voice tinged with anticipation.

Diana grins. "mhm."

Annie shakes her head, though a small smile plays at her lips. "You two are crazy. But fine. Just this once more, we’re not doing it again."

The trio shares a conspiratorial laugh, their bond strengthened by their shared secret. As they go about their tasks, their minds are already anticipating the evening, eager to once again be a part of the passionate world they had stumbled upon.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you finish your meal, your energy slowly returning. Michael sits next to you, his hand resting on your thigh, a silent reassurance of his presence.

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice soft.

He presses a kiss to your temple. "Anything for you, baby. You know that."

As the day wears on, You both spend the day lounging around the house, basking in the simplicity of each other's company. The day has been a rare gift of leisure, a precious break from Michael's usually hectic schedule. The sun sets lazily, casting a warm glow over everything.

The trio finds themselves looking forward to the evening, their curiosity and desire rekindled. The thrill of the forbidden being too intoxicating to resist.

As the day winds down and evening settles in, the maids finish their duties and prepare to leave. Michael politely, walks them to the door. "Goodnight, ladies," he says with a charming smile.

"Goodnight, Mr. Jackson," they reply, trying to keep their voices steady. They share a quick glance, the events of the day still fresh in their minds, and attempt to leave casually. As the door shuts behind them they walk down the path they’d usually take to return home but they make a turn to the right, making their way towards the back of the house.

You are already in bed, lounging in a tank top and panties, the warm weather prompting you to kick the covers off playfully. The soft light of the setting sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room.

Michael steps into the bedroom, locking the door behind him, his gaze finding you instantly. You turn your head towards him and smile, your hand constantly reaching towards his direction, the sight of him filling you with warmth. He shakes his head teasingly as he pulls the covers back onto the bed.

"You always do this," he shakes his head, his voice filled with affection.

You watch him intently as he undresses, his movements slow and deliberate. He strips down to his boxers, revealing his toned physique, and you can’t help but feel a surge of desire. Your eyes are hungry, taking in every inch of his body which is draped in golden sun rays.

He slides into bed next to you, his presence comforting. He gently coos, "Are you feeling hot, baby?" His hand finds your hip, kneading it softly, feeling the soft, warm skin under his palm.

You nod, your eyes half-lidded with desire and mischief. Taking his hand, you guide it down between your legs, pressing his fingers harder against your clothed clit. "I am," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper, signaling where exactly you’re feeling hot.

He chuckles, a low, knowing sound. "You're insatiable," he teases, his fingers starting to move in slow, tantalizing circles. The fabric unsurprisingly dampening in an instant.

Your eyes flutter from the slight pressure and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. "You love it," you counter with a small smile.

He smirks and admits, moving between your spread thighs, his fingers hooking under your panties and slowly pulling them off. He casually lets them fall on the floor as his eyes are immediately glued to your weeping cunt, already salivating at the view.

Meanwhile, in the backyard, the maids have been waiting, the anticipation building. Diana, ever the ringleader, whispers, "It’s time." They tiptoe towards your patio which is connected to your bedroom. They crouch down next to the glass doors, holding their breath as they try to peer inside without making their presence known. The house is quiet, the only sounds coming from within the intimate space you and Michael share. They inch closer, their breaths shallow and hearts pounding, the thrill of voyeurism electrifying their senses.

Inside the bedroom, the atmosphere is intimate and calm compared to the morning's intensity. Michael lays on his front, his face inches from your glistening pussy, still leaking with his cum from earlier. He bites his lip at the sight, the raw desire in his eyes making you shiver with anticipation.

He gently slides his middle finger into your hole, pushing his cum deeper inside you. "Look at you, so full of me," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "Such a good girl, taking everything I give you."

You moan softly, the sensation of his finger inside you making your body hum with pleasure. He parts your glossy folds with his fingers, exposing your sensitive clit. Leaning in, he suckles on the bud, rolling it in his mouth with expert precision.

Peering through the glass, their eyes widen as they take in the sight before them. Michael is between your legs, his face buried in your pussy, his tongue working you with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Your eyes are shut tight, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you. The soft glow from the bedside lamp casts a warm light over the scene, highlighting every intimate detail.

"God, seeing it is so much better than just listening," Susie whispers, her voice a mix of awe and arousal.

They press against each other, jostling quietly for the best view. Michael's focus is entirely on you, his eyes closed as he savors your taste, his tongue flicking over your clit with expert precision. The way he worships your body is mesmerizing, each movement filled with intent and passion.

Suddenly, Michael pulls away with a wet pop, your juices glistening on his lips and chin. You whine at the loss of contact, your body trembling with need. "Shh, baby," he soothes, replacing his tongue with his thumb, pressing it against your swollen clit and rubbing gentle circles.

The maids hold their breath, their eyes glued to the scene. Michael prods two fingers against your entrance, teasing you before slowly sliding them in. He breathes in deeply, savoring your scent as his fingers begin to scissor inside you, stretching your tight walls. His wedding band glistens, drenched in your slick, as he pumps his fingers in and out with a steady rhythm, the cold metal adding to the pleasure.

Susie, filled with envy and arousal, leans closer to Annie. "I've never seen a man eat pussy this good," she whispers, her voice tinged with longing. 

"He definitely knows where the clit is." Annie giggles and adds.

Diana, unable to contain her excitement, groans softly. "When is he going to take out his cock and fuck her?" she hisses, her eyes locked on the sight of Michael's fingers disappearing inside you.

Annie glares at her. "Oh, I'm sorry, is watching this not enough for you?" she snaps quietly.

Michael's fingers work their magic, the squelching noises filling the room as you whimper and buck your hips against his skilled hands. He watches you intently, his eyes dark with lust, enjoying the way you respond to his touch. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "My girl."

Your whimpers turn into moans, your body arching off the bed as he brings you closer to the edge. "Michael, please," you beg, your voice a breathy whisper.

He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, leaving hickeys along your inner thighs. "What is it, baby?" he asks, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

"Wanna cum," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

He smirks, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot. "Then come for me, sweet girl," he whispers, his voice a low growl.

The maids watch in rapt attention, their own bodies reacting to the scene before them. Susie's cheeks are flushed, her breath quickening. "I can't believe we're actually seeing it this time," she whispers, her voice trembling with excitement.

"Look at how he handles her. It's like he knows exactly what she needs." Annie breathes, her eyes wide with awe.

Diana, her frustration mounting, shifts restlessly. "I want to see him fuck her," she insists, her voice a low whine. "Wanna see what his cock looks like."

Annie shoots her a sharp look. "Just be patient," she snaps. "Enjoy what we're seeing now."

Inside the room, Michael's fingers move faster, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your moans grow louder, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending orgasm. "I- I’m close" you cry out, your voice breaking with need.

"There there," he murmurs, his fingers never faltering. "Let go for me. Cum all over my fingers."

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, you shatter. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing with pleasure. Michael holds you through it, his mouth and fingers never ceasing their movements, prolonging your release until you are spent and trembling.

The maids are transfixed, their own arousal palpable. "y’all…" Susie whispers, her voice filled with need. "I didn't even know it was possible to cum that hard just from fingers."

Annie nods, her eyes still fixed on the scene before her. "He’s Michael Jackson, what did you expect," she murmurs. 

Diana, her eyes dark with lust, can barely contain herself. "I want to see more," she insists, her voice a desperate whisper.

As you come down from your high, panting, Michael gently withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. "You taste so good," he purrs, his eyes locked on yours. You stretch weakly, your body still trembling. Michael licks his drenched fingers, savoring your taste as his eyes lock onto yours with a smoldering intensity. He leans in to give your clit a soft, lingering kiss, a gesture of tenderness. 

As he moves off the bed to take off his boxers, you whimper from the loss of contact, your body still trembling from the recent orgasm. You always become so clingy afterward, seeking his warmth and touch even if it's scorching hot outside.

“I’m right here, baby,” he coos gently, his voice soothing as he pulls down his boxers, freeing his throbbing cock. The maids, hidden just outside the glass doors, gasp in unison at the sight. Michael’s heavy shaft sways with his every move, a sight both impressive and intimidating.

“Goodness gracious, that thing is massive,” Diana whispers, her eyes wide with arousal.

The others nod, their mouths hanging open in shock. “No wonder she always looks so happy,” Susie murmurs. “It’s hard not to when your man’s packing like that.”

Annie notices Diana’s hazy expression, her eyes glued to Michael’s meaty cock as she licks her lips. Annie nudges her sharply. “Stop drooling, Diana.”

Susie giggles, trying to stifle the sound. “Yeah, you look like you just came.”

Diana shoots them a side-eye, irritated but unable to tear her gaze away from Michael as he strokes his meaty shaft, preparing himself. She unconsciously leans forward, hands pressing against the glass doors, her desire overriding her sense of caution. The door creaks in the silent room, a loud and unmistakable sound.

Annie, eyes wide with realization, hisses urgently, “Wait, no!”

But it’s too late. Packed together like sardines, when Diana pushes forward, the glass doors swing open, and they all tumble into the room with a loud, resounding thud. The sudden intrusion shatters the intimate atmosphere, and for a moment, time seems to freeze.

You gasp in horror, your eyes wide as you scramble to cover yourself. Michael’s head snaps around, his expression shifting from surprise to fury as he sees the maids he had just bid goodnight to, now sprawled awkwardly on the floor. They remain frozen, their eyes wide with horror at having been caught.

“Fuck,” Annie whispers, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of their collective dread.

Michael’s eyes blaze with anger, but his first instinct is to protect you. He immediately grabs the covers and drapes them over your body, shielding you from their prying eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering, “Stay here.”

You try to argue, your voice trembling, “But Michael-”

He cuts you off with a commanding look, one you don’t often see, filled with authority and protectiveness. “I said stay,” he repeats firmly.

Nodding obediently, you clutch the sheets closer to your face, your heart pounding in your chest. Michael turns halfway, careful not to expose himself completely, and fixes the maids with a venomously calm stare.

“Wait in my office,” he orders, his tone cold and tolerating no argument.

The trio stares dumbly for a few seconds, processing his words before they scramble to their feet, tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Broken apologies tumble from their lips as they run out of the room, their faces flushed with shame and embarrassment.

Once they’re gone, Michael turns back to you, his expression softening. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his hands cupping your face.

You nod, though your heart is still racing. “I guess…I'm just shocked.”

“I’ll take care of this,” he promises, his voice filled with a protective resolve. He kisses your forehead again, then stands, pulling on his discarded boxers and trousers. “Stay here and try to relax, okay?”

You nod again, watching him as he leaves the room, your anxiety mixing with a strange sense of reassurance at his presence.

Michael leaves you in the bedroom, his heart heavy with both fury and a fierce protectiveness. As he walks down the hallway, the moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows and illuminating his path. Each step he takes echoes softly against the wooden floor, the sound mingling with the seething rage that burns within him. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, every muscle in his body taut with anger.

In the office, the maids are huddled together, in a state of panic, their faces filled with dread. They had thought themselves clever, sneaking around to watch, but now the reality of their actions is sinking in.

“Oh my god, we’re so screwed,” Susie whispers, wringing her hands nervously.

Annie turns to Diana. "This was all your idea!" she hisses, her voice trembling with fear.

Diana glares back, her own nerves frayed. "Oh, don't you dare put this all on me! You wanted this as much as I did!"

Susie, caught in the middle, raises her hands in a futile attempt to calm them. "Guys, please, this isn’t the time. We need to stick together."

The door swings open, and they all jump, turning to see Michael standing in the doorway, his expression a mask of controlled fury. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that feels like the final nail in their coffin.

“Explain yourselves,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

The maids exchange panicked glances, none of them wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Annie steps forward, her voice trembling. “We... we’re so sorry, Mr. Jackson. We didn’t mean to intrude. We just...”

“Just what?” he snaps, his patience fraying. 

Susie whispers, her voice barely audible, "We were just curious..."

Michael raises his brows, his eyes narrowing. "Curious? Curious?!”  he repeats, louder this time. The word hangs in the air, heavy with disdain.

He loses his cool for a moment, his voice rising as he yells, "Are you out of your fucking minds?!"

The maids shudder, their fear palpable. They are totally fucked, and they know it. “We’re truly so sorry,” Annie stammers, her voice breaking. “We never meant for this to happen.”

Michael’s expression remains hard, his eyes cold as ice. “You think an apology is enough? You think saying sorry will fix this? You’ve breached a level of trust that’s hard to come back from.” Michael’s eyes bore into each of them, his disappointment palpable.

Michael takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “What gave you the brilliant idea to spy on us?”

There’s a heavy silence as none of them dare to speak. Michael’s patience wears thin. “I’m not going to repeat my question.”

Silence fills the room as the maids exchange terrified glances. Finally, Diana stutters, "We... we eavesdropped earlier this morning." Susie starts to tear up silently, her guilt and fear overwhelming her.

Michael breathes out heavily, the sound like a hiss through clenched teeth. "Sit," he commands, his tone brooking no argument.

They scramble to comply, their hands shaking as they take their seats. Michael retrieves a folder from the desk drawer, pulling out several documents and laying one in front of each of them with a pen.

"Sign," he says, the word clipped and devoid of any warmth.

Annie furrows her brows as she reads the document. It's a non-disclosure agreement. It hits her like a punch to the gut: he's making them sign NDAs to ensure they don't blabber about this to anyone, especially the press. Without reading through it, they all sign. Their hands shake so much that their signatures are barely legible. 

Michael retrieves the signed documents, his eyes never leaving theirs. He stares at them, his gaze hard and unforgiving. "Consider yourselves fired," he says, each word delivered with cutting precision.

The maids’ faces pale further, the reality of their actions hitting them like a sledgehammer. 

They swallow hard, nodding silently. Without needing further prompting, they rise from their seats and make their way out of the office, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their actions. As they exit the estate, the night air feels colder. As they walk down the long driveway and the gravity of their situation sinks in.

As they reach the gates, they look back at Neverland ranch one last time, the grandeur and beauty now a stark contrast to their current despair. They exit, their steps heavy and their minds filled with regret.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj

[alwaysformike]

can i request where reader and michael are in rome in 1988 for the bad tour and they go to a museum on a little date and end up getting a little riled up in public because of michael's tedious tour schedule that prevents them from having any "sex time"?

ִֶָ𓏲࣪ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄 🫐༉‧

in which tedious tour schedules force sweet sighs of bliss to fill the sound of people-filled museums.

content warnings: public sex, fingering, p in v, fem! reader, MICHAEL BEING SO SEXY???!

my first request omg??!!! 😣 okay anyways enjoy mls

THE SPRINGTIME AIR OF MAY FILLS YOUR NOSE, DRENCHING YOU IN A WARMTH NEVER FELT BEFORE. Cars zoom past, blowing your hair into your face. Your hand, wrapped thinly around your lover, squeezes.

You are glad people in Rome know how to mind their business, save for the couple of people that clearly don’t get the memo; you and Michael are alone for a reason.

Though, you will admit, you couldn't be sure if the feeling of eyes staring at you in every direction were any better than the constant clicking of paparazzi cameras.

"Well, my love, where to next?" The voice rings through your ears, sending that funny feeling to your tummy again. You blush slightly, ducking your head.

You and the former Jackson 5 member are out for a day on the town, exploring all there is to see in Rome. This, you think, may be the best part of Michael's fame; being able to tour the world with your love.

"Hm," you hum. Of course, it had its downsides, like the schedule that made it almost impossible to see him. "I heard there is a museum just a way down, perhaps we could go there?"

He grins down at you. "The fact you think you even have to ask is blasphemy."

There it was again, that fluttering feeling in your stomach that just would not go away. The two of you make your way down to the Museum, hands still interlinked like chains.

As you walk, it is impossible not to stare at him. Him, with his curly black hair fanning around his face. Him, with his dark eye's cautiously observing as you two cross the street.

It is a crime that you have became so lucky, a sin that he has ended up with you of all people. Because, truly, he was a piece of art that deserved to be in the Museum. Him, with his sharp and chiseled jaw, his lanky but tall figure, his long seductive fingers.

Him.

It is so unfair, the way he floats so gracefully, dancing around with a small quirk of his lips. Your breath catches in your throat.

"Michael." You whisper feebly. The museum was just up ahead, you could see the line following out through door.

"Hm?" He half-heartedly answers. His attention is on moving you through the crowd of people and into the Museum. No lady should stand in line for that long especially not his.

Your throat goes dry and suddenly words have escaped from your list of skills. Your brain, fuzzy and now blank. He pauses in his step, waiting for you to say something. Michael turns, looking at you . Your eyes are staring up at him, those big round eyes that could have any soldier fall to his knees and retreat in seconds.

He was the soldier and the heart was his battlefield.

"Doll?" He questions. It is unlike you to be so quiet, typically yapping about anything that remotely catches your interest.

Your breath hitches. You two are now inside the Museum, statues and paintings lining each wall. "Mike," you whisper. "Something is wrong."

It does not take more than a millisecond for Michael to have you in his arms, hugging you tightly. He cannot help but to worry. "Has something upset you, is the museum too small, was the line too long?" He is throwing questions after questions to you.

Your brain is still fuzzy and woozy, but you mange to peep from his arms and stare deep into his onyx eyes. "Michael, listen. Something is wrong with me."

That does not help. You are back in his thick arms once more, and he is questioning you again. You peel from his arms one last time. You glance up at him, then to his long and vein-covered fingers. Had he always been so sexy? Stupid question, of course he had.

There was something about not seeing him for weeks on end unless it was on stage that made you so feral, so weak in the knees. If it was possible, he looked so much more handsome. Small eyebags rested underneath his eyes but it did not take from his beauty, only added.

You realize now that you sre utterly fucked.

"Michael. Bathroom." You croak, nodding towards the restroom. In seconds the two of you are shoving into the family one and the door is locked behind you.

Michael is frowning, but you can tell he is slowly starting to understand your dilemma. "Need you," you whine out. A smirk unravels onto his face.

"Oh," he nods in understanding. "This is what had my pretty girl all worked up." You agree desperately, hands roaming his t-shirt covered chest.

His fingers wrap around your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the sink. Within seconds his lips are hungrily fighting yours. They dance, a tango of dangerous lust. His hand comes up to hold your jaw, forcing your mouth open so his tounge can slide into your mouth.

You grunt into the kiss. He pauses, pulling away. "Patience, love." You whimper at that, grinding onto the sink.

You would look back and cringe at that, you were sure, but for now, you were desperate. So utterly desperate for anything. You can feel a pool begin to clog your lacy panties. His fingers wander down, they are snakes that slither their way to your garden of eden. Your breath comes out in panted huffs as the snakes constrict your thighs, squeezing with a pain so lustful.

"Michael." You beg. "Please."

"Well, if you insist." He rolls his eyes, bringing his breath closer to your heat. In seconds, the snakes that were once his hands is now his tongue, twisting and twirling around your aroused clit.

You moan, hips rolling against his face. Your hands are white from gripping the sink. He pulls away lustfully and you whine. "Not enough."

He frowns, wiping his face off. "You really are the prettiest idiot, hm, doll? You really think i'm that cruel as to leave my sweet baby so needy, all alone?"

Your doe-eyes peak up at him, and they shine with words you will not say; "but mike, you would do that."

Michael Jackson was infamous for teasing. It'd be no surprise for him to leave you in the dust once again. But after weeks, almost months, of barely seeing him, you know he needs it just as bad as you do.

His mouth is back on you now, and its twisting and twirling everywhere you need. He sucks on your clit, holding there for a couple seconds. Your voice is resonating through the restroom, and reaches it's peak when he pinches your clit with his long fingers.

It hurts so good, and you whimper once again when he pulls away. He chuckles cruelly, turning you into the sink so you can see your fucked out face. Your pigtail braids with bows, now messily drenched with sweat.

"Mike, hurry." You whine.

"God," he groans, unbuckling his fancy pants. "You're so fucking needy. My little needy girl."

He's shoving inside you in a mere second, no room for preparation. It hurts, his thick and veined cock just being pushed into you; though, you don't wuite mind.

Your pretty eyes roll back. Hes moaning into your ear and it's all too much—not seeing him, being so public, your smeared lipstick from all the smooching.

Pleasure hits you like a wave on the ocean, your toes curling in your pretty little mary-janes, hands white from gripping the sink. You feel your orgasm push over you and he presses your cheek into the mirror, letting you watch how his hips snap vigorously into you.

The raw and slutty sound of him over-stimulating you until he finally releases with a grunt is overpowering.

You spend a couple minutes cleaning up. "So good for me, lady-bug. Good girl." He whispers to you sensually, his big hand cupping your cheek.

The two of you exit, eyes widening as the sight of a line fills your vision. A woman is in front of you, her face pulled back in both anger and digust.

"Get a room!" She mutters. As you two walk away, giggling, she yells again. "And not the restroom!"

You and Michael make eye-contact, giggling once again and continuing on your museum date—though you spend the rest of it limping—.

masterlist

[nee-biter]

A night with Miguel, Peter B, & MJ

what it would be like to spend a night with your husband, Miguel, and his hot married colleagues.

warnings: foursome, pnv sex, throat-fucking, degradation, wife-swapping 👁👁, it's just dirty

minors dni please

I feel like MJ would initiate it—

—or at least, influence you so that you'd think fucking with her and her husband would be such a great idea. She'd probably lean close to you, during a double date night, with you and Miguel and her and Peter B. And she'd start asking, "Do you and Miguel have other plans tonight?"

"Consider it, darling," She whispered, her finger grazing your thigh, while Miguel and Peter B fought over who would pay for dinner.

Miguel would pick up on your hints. Telling him that you wanted to visit MJ and Peter B's hotel room. A blush on your face—evident only when you have a favor to ask him. Timid eye contact between you and MJ. "What is it, mi amor?"

Miguel realized that the answer was perplexing. You, in your tight black dress, locking lips with his best friend's wife on the hotel bed.

Said best friend stared in awe, already half-hard at his wife sticking her tongue into you and squeezing your thighs with her freckled hands.

You liked that they were watching. You wished that Miguel would appreciate this display.

Oh boy, he did.

"Your turn," You said, out of breath, pointing between Miguel and Peter B.

The two of them scoffed, in denial of the tension and attraction between them. "If you don't do it, no pussy for either of you," MJ teased. Miguel was about to retort, but Peter B took that opportunity to crash his lips into the tough man's. Miguel grunted, instinctively grinding his hips into Peter B's waist.

'So that's what he tasted like.' Miguel thought.

You and MJ giggled, watching your two men rub their hard-ons against each other. When Miguel broke the kiss, he glared through the three of you. You were in for a long night.

No matter the rules the four of you tried to enforce—Don't kiss the man who's not your husband but you can ride his cock—No incriminating pet names—Keep the noise down—Wear a fucking condom—you still found yourself breaking them bit by bit.

Peter B's lips found yours as he was pounding into his wife's pussy. One of his hands firmly squeezed MJ's tits while he snaked a hand under your jaw to have you look at the way he fucked her.

Miguel, jealous and livid right behind you, pulled your hair back. His cock rammed into you, not giving you the time to adjust to his size. Two of his fingers spread your mouth open, letting you babble incoherently as he repeatedly bruised that spot in your walls that made you squeeze tightly on his cock.

"You whore, see if you like another cock better than this"

As you cried over and over again, MJ would whisper sweet nothings into your ear . "You're so beautiful being used like that, sweetheart." She pushed away the hair falling on your face. Peter B wrapped his hands on her ankles before turning her to you, her back on the bed—her pussy, glazed over with Peter B's precum, in front of you. "Want to please mommy too?"

While you were struggling to suck MJ's clit as Miguel harshly pounded into your pussy, Peter B got off the bed and positioned himself over his wife. "Dear, open up for me, please" She opened her mouth and he slid his cock inside as she lied down. You watched as his cock would disappear inside her mouth, plunging itself in her throat.

You whimpered at the sight, a sudden craving. Miguel once again caught on to your hints.

"You want that too, mi amor?" Miguel asked, his mouth curled upward into a smirk. He pulled out of you, knowing where you want his throbbing cock next.

I'll upload a part two -- here -- soon because this needs more exploration 😮‍💨

[captainpricelover]

Spiderdilf

Peter b. Parker x f!reader

Word count - 2k

Warnings: Profanity, large age gap(18-39) infidelity. Smut!!! P in v sex. Slightly rough sex, Peter cheats on MJ with Mayday’s babysitter

Names used: Angel, Doll

You babysit part-time to help pay for tuition but also lashes and nails. I mean who isn’t a high-maintenance girly nowadays? This isn’t your first babysitting job but it is your hardest. The child you babysit, Mayday is very special she is basically Spiderman but that isn't the hardest part of this job, the hardest thing is probably the thing in her dad's pants every time he sees you.

You never thought you would spend 20 minutes attempting to get Mayday down safely from the ceiling, but here you are. The chair under you wobbles as you stretch your limbs trying to grab the ginger child.  Peter walks in, and the noise from the front door startles you, causing you to lose your balance. Mayday finally decides that she's bored of the ceiling and jumps down into your arms. All this causes you to lose your balance, you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten your grip on Mayday bracing for contact with a hardwood floor. But it never happens instead, you find yourself being carried bridal style by Peter.

“Don’t worry I got you, kiddo,” He smiles while squeezing your thigh before placing you down on the floor and taking Mayday from you. Peter’s hair is slightly messy, and the jacket from his suit is tossed over his shoulder while his tie hangs loose around his neck. 

“Where’s MJ?” You ask slightly tilting your head. 

“Work emergency,” He laughs “Taste of my own medicine I guess, I’m the one usually running off halfway through the date due to work,”

“Was your date still good?”

“The food was delicious, got some in a box in the car, you can snack on while I drive you home if you want to wait in the car. I'll be there in a few minutes,”

“I mean you paid me for a couple more hours so I don’t mind helping you put her to sleep and cleaning  with the uh-mess”

 The house was a state, Mayday’s toys are scattered everywhere, and her costumes completely cover the sofa, crayons on the walls and even the ceiling. It wasn’t a one-person job barely a two-person job but hopefully, you and Peter could make it work. 

“It's also partially my fault your house is like this, so I’ll feel guilty if you make me go now”

“Don’t blame yourself, Mayday is a handful. The number of babysitters who quit within the first few minutes”

“Minutes?” You laugh

“Sometimes its seconds, Mayday is pretty picky but she seems to like you,”

Neither of you has noticed the fact that she's fast asleep in Peter’s arms but when you do your conversation stops, slowly down both of your movements making sure not to make any noise that would wake Mayday up. Peters nods his head, signalling that he's off upstairs. You smile before heading over to the lounge as you begin picking up Maydays toys and putting them in a basket. A few minutes pass before you hear Peter walking down the stairs but he doesn’t come into the lounge instead you hear the front door open. Shit. There's probably a spider-man related emergency, you carry on cleaning but are surprised when Peter comes back through the front door, carrying his leftovers in a white plastic bag

“You hungry?” He smiles slightly lifting the plastic higher into the air

“A little,” To be honest you were staved looking after Mayday drains all the energy out of you.

Peter puts the food in the microwave before pushing some newspapers and files into a pile, clearing a space for you to sit on his island. You happily sit on one of the stools as the microwaves bing. He takes the food before sitting on the stool next to yours, placing the food in between the both of you. You admire the domesticity of the scene, you never had a man cook for you before (Microwaving food is 100% what Peter considers cooking) There's always been a feeling of admiration for Peter, but seeing him now and being alone in his presence, you’re starting to believe you might have some actual feelings for him. 

“So, you got a boyfriend?” Peter asks trying to make small talk 

“Uh- no I don’t” You take a bite of leftover steak

“Good,” 

“Good?”

“I-I mean,” He stutters for a few seconds “It's good because I would feel guilty for keeping you here when you could be spending time with him as well. Any reason don’t you have?”

“I guess I’ve never met the right, all the guys at my school are right dickheads,” He cocks an eyebrow “What? I bet you were the same in school?”

“Oh god no I was a right nerd in high school. I would never even talk to a girl as pretty as you, let alone be mean to one,” He laughs and you join in

“I could never see you being a nerd with the whole Spiderman shebang and the whole dilf thing you got going on” 

“Dilf?”

“You don’t know what a dilf is?” 

“I know what a milf is, so I’m going to guess it has a similar meaning.

You carry on the small talk while you both finish the leftovers. He entertains you with stories about him taking down villains and you get him up to date with all the latest school drama. The rest of the chores are split up between the two of you. Peter’s job is to clean the drawing on the ceiling. A job that's impossible for you since you lack any superpowers. You end up washing the dishes. The conversation between the two of you has died down so you put in some AirPods and listen to music. While scrubbing some stubborn stain you feel a pair of rough hands latch on to you, it's Peter. He gently guides you to the side so he can access the cupboard under the sink. His touch sends an eclectic shock through your entire body, especially to your lower abdomen where you can already feel pressure starting to form. You take out one pod and look up at Peter

“Sorry, didn’t want to disturb you listening to your tunes” He laughs his hands still on your hips

“Oh no, it's fine. You just startled me,”

“Are you tense? It seems that I’m always scaring you. Something on your mind? I’m always here if you need to talk, angel,”

Your heart skips a head at the new nickname he has given you, you stutter out some appreciative nonsense before he lets go of your hips, and your body craves his touch. It was only a small dose but now your already addicted. He squats down and grabs some supplies before shooting a web at the ceiling and launching himself at it to continue cleaning.

Half an hour passes and the house is completely spotless. No evidence of Mayday’s wild escapades is left. Peters decides to head inside the panty to grab a sweet treat to congratulate him on a job well done. You follow him. The pressure inside your lower abdomen has gotten stronger over time instead of going away, so you are most likely blinded by lust when you decide to ask him

“Did you really mean it when you said I was pretty?” You question while leaning against the frame of the entrance to the pantry 

“Of course, I did, your gorgeous,” He smiles as a million impure thoughts appear in his mind “But you’re too young for me angel,” He sighs but before you could feel any sense of rejection his lips crash into yours. His hand attached itself to your hair at the crown of your head while the other one finds its way up your baby tee and being to fondle your breast. He pushes you against the wall, deepening the kiss but as quickly as he begins kissing you he ends it.

“Oh god angel, shit I’m so sorry,” He apologised as he let go of your hair “I don’t know what came over me. I-”

 He is about to remove his hand from your breast when you interrupt him 

“I liked it,” You smile 

This time, its Peter who is shocked

“I want you Peter,” You confess and it sets this man off like a bomb. His hands are back on your body exploring every crevice he can over your clothes. You return the favour as you begin fiddling with his belt, it takes a few seconds but you finally undo the belt and his zipper. Before you could pull his bulge out of his boxers he start humping himself against your hand

“Fuck angel you are so perfect!” He whispers in your ear 

He pulls frantically at your pair of denim shorts, desperately attempting to get them off. It takes a few tugs before he figures out he needed to undo the button but when he does your shorts are off in one quick movement. His middle and index fingers quickly find themselves inside your panties as Peters uses his digits to explore your folds.

“Fuck me, doll. How are you this wet, I have barely even touched you”

You manage to help his cock escape its confinement you were shocked at the size. How was he hiding this thing under his Spider-Man suit? Before you could ask him the question yourself, he's picked you up. Instinctively you wrap your legs around his waist as his fingers dig into your thighs. 

“Are you sure that you want this?”  He asks as he lines up his tip with your entrance. You nod.

“Words, darling.”

“Please, Peter!” You practically beg 

With that, he does a singular powerful thrust into you making sure that his entire shaft entire you on the first time. After a few seconds to make sure that you’ve adjusted to his size he begins to thrust at a fast pace. Your brain is scrambled all you can let out is a set of incoherent moans. 

He moves one of his arms to the small of your back to make sure you are steady as his lips meet yours again and you start a hungry kiss. His lips interlock yours perfectly, he's a pro at this which makes up for your lack of experience. 

Each of his thrusts is more powerful than the last. This man is fucking you like there's no tomorrow. He's needy too which makes you wonder about his current bedroom life. I mean if you were MJ you would never leave your martial bed. He lifts you up slightly which changes the game completely as every time his cock enters and leaves, he hits your g spot. You wrap one of your arms around his neck for extra support as you use the other to rub your clit.

 After a few minutes of thrusting, you are close to reaching your orgasm, Peter knows this. His spider senses are going crazy. He slows down his movements, making sure to drag out the amount of time his cock spends touching your g-spots with drives you over the edge. You cum almost instantly after he does this. Your walls clench around him getting him closer to reaching his high when the front door opens, It's MJ. Shit! 

Peter tightens his hold on you as he ploughs into you with a god-like speed trying to finally get his release. He moves one of his hands over your mouth attempting to quiet down your moans so that MJ won't hear. You listen closely as you hear her taking off her shoes. His movements are rougher. She enters the lounge and Peter finally cum, moving the hand which was located on the small of your back to the crown on your head as he sets you on the ground. He pets your hair gently as he gives you a quick peck before pulling his pants up and going to greet/distract his wife, giving you enough time to make yourself look presentable and to pretend to be preoccupied with something.

[minx-scribbles]

Random thoughts about freaky nerd Armin. Writing smut stories in his journal about his crush

omg freaky nerd Armin... literally my love.

part one | part two

pairing: nerd!Armin x nb!reader

Nerdy Armin who fantasizes about his crush in the middle of class, and can't help but get hot and bothered EVERY TIME

He thinks about you all. the. time. Every second of his day is filled to the brim with thoughts of you: laughing with him, smiling your beautiful smile, moaning his name...

He doesn't have the balls to actually ask you out just yet bc you still make him a little nervous, so he sticks to writing all his thoughts into a special journal that he carries with him.

when you guys hangout, all of those dirty thoughts he writes always come back into his head.

How he wants to lay you down in the car you guys are driving in together and make you feel forget about any other man you've been with

he'd start out slow and careful, making sure you are comfortable and okay. Taking off both of your clothes ones at a time, loving very second, he exposes more of your soft flesh to his eyes

he'd softly kiss you top to bottom, appreciating every scar and imperfection that paints your skin

Nerdy Armin would be so shaky, and you'd feel it through the multiple kisses you'd give each other

He'd mark you everywhere, wanting you to see what sinful things you guys do together. love marks everywhere, especially on your lower abdomen leading down

Nerd Armin must have done his research about person's pleasure, always knowing the right licks and running his hands up your thighs to massage them

the pressure in your stomach fluttering, making you grab onto his thick blonde hair and give it a little tug to warn him you're close.

He wouldn't give up, never relenting and continuing to work his hands and his tongue... man, he would be a master with his tongue

His sharp blue eyes would never leave your face, wanting to see every expression on your face and every sound coming out of your pretty lips

"let it out baby, lemme taste you"

Armin is a king at dirty talk, holy shit, hes always praising you. He wants you to be the center of the world, he wants you to feel everything, but he wants to help you get there

his face wouldn't leave you, wanting to taste every last drop you have to give him

You'd be twitching and he would hold you down, forcing you to endure the longest climax you've ever experienced

Armin would get so giddy to finally be inside you, it is his ultimate fantasy

But this is all just a fantasy, it's all just written in his smutty little journal he keeps locked in his desk drawer

Maybe someday he will get confident enough to finally make his move

[theoraekenslover]

So a while ago I read this multi-part fic thingy, it was a Peter Parker smut, and I was wondering if you guys could help me find it?

(Warning: this is what I remember from it so it’s gonna be inappropriate)

So I don’t remember how it started out exactly, but anyways reader and Peter were alone in his and May’s apartment, and they were doing stuff, and I think it ended with her sucking him off or something (I think maybe they were on the couch) and then May and her parents surprise (I wouldn’t call it a surprise but it was unexpected and spontaneous) them by May coming back with her parents (her mom and dad) and brought pizza. Anyways they might’ve fallen asleep a little after their “activities” and I think maybe his, you know, thing, was still out of his shorts and y/n was on top of him, sleeping but in a very compromising position, and they come in and are like “hey guys guess what I got pizza and y/n’s parents are here!” Or something and they’re caught, and maybe Peter’s shorts were around his ankles or something because he ended up tripping, hitting his head on a table (I think it was a coffee table), and getting knocked out, and her parents are PISSED, especially her dad, and while may is mad she’s not pissed like her dad is, and her parents end up taking her home and taking her phone at some point, so while her dad is out and her mom is in the shower or something, she takes her mom’s laptop to communicate with Peter, and with their flirting and sexy talk whatever, he ends up (idk if it was jokingly or not, probably not) asking for a pic of her ass, because that was some bet or dare they made earlier before May and her parents caught them after doing stuff. Anyways she takes pictures of herself on the laptop and sends them to him, and he’s on his bed looking at them, boner alert 🚨, when her May lets her dad into their apartment so he can talk to Peter and try to sort things out since he acted kinda loco irrational, then Peter is acting weird because he was just looking at (basically) nudes of dude’s daughter, has a boner, then this man comes into his room and it kinda interrogating him, I think maybe he was annoyed because Peter was still sitting in his bed with the blanket covering him like he wasn’t trying to be serious or something but he was just hiding his blunder ⛺️, and he sees that Peter has his phone and is like “seriously? Why do you have your phone after what we caught you two doing?” Like annoyed/ticked that May didn’t take Peter’s phone after everything, then Peter is acting suspicious, like immediately hiding his phone screen when he walked in, and y/n’s dad’s like “give me the phone” and he’s not doing it, and her dad ends up taking it and gets LIVID, and maybe he tried to beat up Peter, probably, and I think May is like “nope, you’re not gonna beat up my nephew” and kicks dude out, but May is PISSED and is like “are you fucking serious Peter? You both get in trouble for getting caught “doing stuff” and you ask her for nudes?” And then she’s like “you’re done”. Anyways y/n’s dad gets home and he’s so angry and he’s like “how did you get this laptop?” And maybe he started accusing his wife of letting her use it, and then y/n says something like “no I took it when she was in the shower”, and they end up not being allowed to see each other (lol of course they don’t listen). And the last part I think is like even though she’s still grounded, her parents let her go to prom, idk if they knew that she went with Peter, and they ended up getting a hotel room (I don’t know if it was already booked or what) and they do, ya know, the nasty, and after all that her dad’s is beating on the hotel door and they’re like “WTF how did he find us?” Because they got the room to be alone and not interrupted since they hadn’t really been able to be together since she’s been grounded, and her dad is like saying “you used MY credit card to get the room, of course I found out about it” and then he ends up seeing a condom (or more 🤷‍♀️) in the trash can and gets PISSED.

Sorry this isn’t the best description, I haven’t read it in a while and I’ve looked for it a lot, but I haven’t found it so I thought “why not ask my peeps of tumblr if they know it” so if you’ve read it and know what it’s called and what platform it’s on (Tumblr or Wattpad) and the author maybe, that would be SOO amazing!

Thanks for reading all of this, love you guys 🙃 💗

[whorxology]

⛧☾༺♰PJO Masterlist♰༻☽⛧

Main masterlist

KEY * = Smut (R) = Requested Bold and Italicized means characters I enjoy writing for and will probably bump on my priority list if requested

❀ Luke Castellan

SFW Alphabet Restless Cabin Fun * (R)

❀ Percy Jackson (Logan Lerman)

SFW Alphabet (R) Red Handed (R)

Late update: 03/02/24 2:16 AM

[liz-allyn]

cw: real life tragedy, immediately followed by fake spiciness

It’s been a long time since I posted anything original. But I’m trying.

I have a ridiculously long peter x honey smut tale about 90% complete. I started writing it in July. Real life is getting in the way.

A friend of mine died a week before Halloween.

My dog died three days after my birthday.

My family’s dog died on Christmas.

Almost a week ago, I found out that my estranged biological mother passed away in a hospice clinic. A medical examiner gave me the news six days after she died. I think the last time I spoke to her was 2017.

All this is to say, I’m having a rough time. That’s a shit ton of unfortunately timed trauma.

But I’m still here, trying to get through one day at a time. One paragraph at a time.

Speaking of which, a sneaky peaky… please enjoy.

@sincericida @moonyslove78 @blooming-violets @withahappyrefrain @mrshipsmcgee @rae-gar-targaryen @p3mybeloved @drew-garfi

A sharp, biting kiss swallowed him whole, stealing the oxygen from his lungs. The heat was as intense as he had remembered. This time, they didn’t melt into one another. She was like a wildfire, her touch scalding him.

Her hands then went to his throat, ebony-painted nails leaving red trails on his creamy skin. Buttons popped as she yanked on his clothes. Her goal could have been to draw blood with her kiss. Her teeth tore at his lips, and he groaned into her mouth.

Clumsy, he fumbled with his fingers—reaching up to grip her by the hair. Finally, he wrenched her head back, detaching her bite from his face.

Immediately, he was met with an open-palmed slap on the cheek.

Sharp gasps cut through them, and they jumped backwards a few feet. Tension and shock reverberated in the gap they created. An eerie calm settled over them, like the barometric pressure plunging right before a storm.

Honey blinked at him owlishly, mouth open and her palm throbbing.

Peter glared at her in silence. He looked a mess; hair unkempt, the top buttons of his shirt torn open to reveal jagged crimson scratch marks across his milky skin. His heartbeat steadily increased as he gently dapped his fingertips at the ache in his jaw. The exquiste lines of his face were stained pastel pink. His eyes were black as night.

Peter watched her, pupils dialating, blood pressure rising. The shadow of a smile curved his mouth. His features darkened into something primal. Something familiar.

There’s my girl.

[taegimood]

2am thought rn is you and bestfriend!soobin constantly toeing the line together, just a couple of perverts swearing up and down that you won’t mess up the friendship, that it doesn’t really count as sex if he doesn’t go all the way in, right? just the tip is no big deal, right?

getting off together as he sits kneeling over you with his big cock slid inside your soaked-through panties, slowly rutting against your pussy, tip knocking into your clit deliciously with each rock of his hips — the friction of being sandwiched between your panties and your sopping cunt causing deep, breathy moans to escape from soobin’s parted lips as his eyes remain glued there hungrily.

occasionally pushing the thick head of his cock into your entrance just enough to make you gasp and shudder beneath him before he’s continuing his ministrations, tip slick with your juices, panties pulled to the side in his hand as he watches the way your wet little hole clenches pathetically around nothing — teasing at your slit and making you whimper.

“so pretty,” he breathes, enraptured, watching with glazed eyes as your hips buck and pussy flutters under his touch while he coaxes you through a gentle orgasm.

relishing in your gasps and whines as he continues to drag his cock head over your sensitive clit, until he cums glossy white between your folds and slows down his thrusts, spreading it around with his tip; bottom lip caught between his teeth as he shivers from the slight overstimulation.

the both of you breathing heavy as he caresses your thighs that remain splayed open for him..

so soft, so tempting.. so dangerous.

your eyes lingering on each other’s just a second longer than the last time, every time,

and every time the line blurs a little bit more.

[michaelsfavgirl]

fast learner

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: (related to/continuation of innocence) After taking your virginity and focusing solely on your pleasure, Michael hasn't asked for anything in return, leaving you doubting your ability to please him due to your inexperience. Determined to return the favour you ask him to teach you how to give him a blowjob.

Tags: smut, oral (m receiving), dom!michael, sub!reader, first time giving, lack of experience, implied age gap, huge pp, coming untouched, multiple orgasms, fingering, cheesy ending.

Word Count: 3.4k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: lipgloss dupe (there’s a part where I wanted to write that so bad but thought it’d ruin the moment so I’m telling you here)

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

It's been a few weeks since Michael introduced you to the pleasures of the flesh. Over this period, your hunger for each other has become insatiable. Who knew sex could be this good? Not a day has gone by without his hands on you, making you cum over and over again until tears roll down your cheeks, and he knows you’ve reached your limit.

He’s been oh so gentlemanly and giving. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to say he’s been eating you out on an almost daily basis. Especially when your poor cunt is sensitive from all the loving and stretching, he just gently laps at your pussy, his warm tongue making you leak more of your sweet juices into his mouth, all without asking for anything in return.

And that’s exactly what’s been gnawing at you. Compared to how experienced he is in the bedroom, you feel slightly embarrassed. He’s always the one doing all the work, always making sure you cum first, ensuring you don’t lift a finger. As much as you love it, it’s starting to make you feel inadequate.

You want to make him feel good as well, but oddly enough, he hasn’t hinted at you giving him oral in any way. How strange. Aren’t men supposed to be obsessed with it or something? It makes you wonder if he thinks you’re incapable of satisfying him since you’ve never done it before. This sends you into a spiral of overthinking.

While this turmoil brews inside your head, Michael, who’s been lying next to you on your shared bed, notices your furrowed brows. Instantly, he pulls you closer to him, your head on his chest and his hands gently caressing your back. Softly, he presses a kiss to the top of your head and whispers, “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Feeling heat rise in your face, you contemplate how to tell him. As soothing as his hands are, they do little to calm your nervousness. You open and close your mouth multiple times before sighing and saying it bluntly, “You’re always doing all the work in bed and... and it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to please you too.” You close your eyes and focus on the low sound of the TV instead of the silence coming from him.

Michael’s hand pauses for a moment before he shifts, gently tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. His gaze is soft, filled with understanding. “Oh, baby,” he says, his voice tender. “I love making you feel good. That’s how it’s supposed to be, I wasn’t playing around when I promised to take care of you always.” he smiles and adjusts his body, ready to continue watching the television but you’re not gonna let this go so easily.

“But…” you start, feeling a lump form in your throat, “I want to make you feel good too. I feel like I’m not contributing enough.”

Michael smiles softly. “Sweetheart, you do, seeing your pleasure, feeling your body respond to me—that’s everything. You don’t need to worry about doing anything more.”

“Yeah, but other couples—” you start to argue, but he cuts you off.

“I don’t care what other couples do,” he says, his tone firm but still gentle. “You’re too precious to me. What kind of man would I be if I made you get on your knees for me, hm?”

“But I want to learn how to do it. Teach me,” you say, while looking at him earnestly.

“Another time,” he replies, turning his head back towards the TV.

“What? No, Michael!” You knit your brows together, determined to gain his attention back. You whine and beg, slightly shaking him, trying to get a reaction.

“Please, please, please!” You dramatically clutch his shirt. A minuscule smile crosses his face before he turns up the volume, drowning out your adorable pouts and begs.

“Uh, how dare you? You’re silencing women!” you say, making him laugh genuinely, his lively chuckles ringing through the room. You take advantage, quickly grabbing the remote and turning the television off.

“Please, Michael,” you plead, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. He rolls his eyes playfully, looking at you for a few seconds, wanting to see if you’ll falter. But no, you seem very sure about this.

He caves. “Alright, fine, but just know that this won’t be a frequent activity for you.”

Smiling triumphantly, you start to get off the bed. He stops you with a gentle hand. “Stay on the bed. I don’t want your knees to bruise.” You blush and lay on your stomach comfortably, watching as he stands at the edge of the bed right in front of you.

Michael's eyes darken with a mix of desire and tenderness as he looks down at you. “You’re sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod eagerly, your eyes sparkling with determination. “Mhm.”

He shakes his head as he sees you impatiently staring at his crotch. “Alright, baby. I’ll guide you through it.”

Michael stands at the edge of the bed, his presence commanding from this angle. Your eyes are fixed on him, anticipation and hunger mixing in your gaze. He begins to undress, his movements slow and deliberate. When his trousers finally drop to the floor, your breath catches at the sight of his girthy, long cock. He’s even more impressive up close, his thick shaft swaying with his every move, begging for attention.

The sheer size of him makes you salivate, but also brings you back to earth, making you nervous about how you're going to manage to fit him into your mouth. Michael notices the flicker of anxiety in your eyes and gives you a reassuring smile, though his teasing nature shines through as he begins to stroke himself lazily.

His hand moves up and down his shaft with a deliberate slowness, knowing full well how it's driving you crazy. You can already feel the wetness pooling in your panties as you watch him, your body reacting to the sight of him pleasuring himself. He pulls back the foreskin that was covering half of his swollen tip, revealing more of the glistening precum that has gathered there.

Michael steps closer, his cock just inches from your face. He swipes a finger through the precum and looks at you with a playful glint in his eye. "Open your mouth," he instructs, his voice low and commanding.

You obey, your tongue sticking out as you wait, your body trembling with anticipation. He places his finger on your tongue. “Suck,” he says seductively. You do so shyly at first, your tongue swirling around his finger as the taste of him makes you whimper, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

He watches you intently, smirking as he sees how lost in it you are. After a moment, he reluctantly slides his finger out of your wet mouth, which is immediately followed by a whine from you, already missing his taste.

"I've got something better for you to suck on," he teases, his words making your cheeks heat up. You look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"First, however, I want you to wrap your hand around it," he says gently. Seeing the slight apprehension in your eyes he gives you a soft smile of approval. You tentatively reach out, your hand wrapping around his thick shaft. You marvel at how warm and heavy it is in your hand, the veins pulsing against your soft palm.

“It’s heavy.” You blurt out of of nervousness and as soon as you do you slap yourself mentally.

He chuckles heartily, “It’s all for you.”

Michael's large hand wraps around yours, guiding you as you stroke his meaty cock. "Just like this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. You feel him swell in your hand, his cock growing fully hard. His guidance helps you feel less nervous, his hand moving yours in a steady rhythm. But then he pulls away, leaving you to stroke him on your own.

You glance up at him, a little panicked, your movements becoming clumsy without his steadying hand. He coos softly, reassuring you, "It's alright sweet girl, you're doing well, go on."

His words bolster your confidence, and you continue to fist his lengthy cock. With each stroke, more precum leaks from his bulbous glistening tip. You so badly want to lick it, but you know you need to be patient. Thus you suppress those needs by rubbing your thighs together, the slight friction making this much more bearable.

"A little faster," he instructs, his voice a gentle command. You nod obediently and pick up your pace. The weight of his heavy cock makes your arm burn, but you push through, mesmerized by the way his foreskin slides over his swollen tip with every motion.

Feeling emboldened by his groans, you give his cock a gentle squeeze. He curses under his breath and smirks, praising you, "Look at you, baby. Didn't even have to tell you to do that."

“So good at this,” he murmurs and throws his head back, “knew you would be.”

You smile shyly, continuing your ministrations. Your hand starts to spasm from the effort, him being the attentive lover that he is, he slows you down, taking your hand off his shaft. Realising what's coming next, you lick your lips in anticipation, your thighs pressing even closer together.

He starts you off slowly, his voice gentle. "Give it a little kiss," he says, his eyes dark with desire. You lean in and softly press your lips against his glossy tip, pulling away you’re left with the remnants of his arousal shining on your lips.

"A few more."

You kiss around his tip, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin. The warmth emanating from him makes your pussy drool. Unable to resist, you give it a hesitant lick. He groans, a deep sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Someone's getting bold," he teases.

You pull away and turn your head to the side bashfully, reaching out, he cups your face gently. "Oh baby, it's alright. Here, open your little mouth."

You part your lips, your heart racing. He holds his cock, guiding his swollen tip to your mouth. Your tongue flicks out, licking the tip of his cock. You sigh at the delicious taste of him, savoring every drop of precum that oozes out. The salty-sweetness leaves you craving more, and you press your tongue against the slit, coaxing more of that deliciousness to the surface. He winces slightly from the sensitivity but lets you continue, his hand resting gently on the back of your head.

Your eyes flutter shut as you lick his tip, lost in the pleasure of tasting him whilst stimulating your clit at the same time. Suddenly, you feel him softly patting his bulbous head against your tongue, drawing you out of your reverie. You open your eyes, clouded by lust, and part your lips wider, tentatively taking him into your mouth. Your lips stretch around him, feeling the warmth and the firmness.

With just the tip in your mouth, you already feel your throat contracting, and breathing becoming much more laborious. He tenderly soothes you, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Shh, youre okay. Try to breathe through your nose…relax."

You nod slightly, focusing on his smooth voice. As you follow his words you feel the pressure disappear and breathing become easier. Curiously, you slowly begin to suck on his tip, the wet noises making you feel a little embarrassed. Michael watches you intently, ensuring you're not straining yourself too hard. He lets you explore at your own pace, his desire for your pleasure evident in his eyes.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and innocent. You whimper around his cock at the sight of his head thrown back, silent pants escaping his lips. You bob your head back and forth, his tip already stretching your mouth full. He shudders, the evident inexperience driving him wild. Without thinking, you try to take more of him in, struggling as his girth overwhelms you.

Michael immediately snaps back to attention, pulling you off him firmly. "Just the tip, sweetheart," he scolds, his tone stern. "Don't ever try to take more, don't want you to choke."

You pout, protesting, "But I want to-."

He cuts you off, shaking his head. "No buts. You can barely take the tip. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Rolling your eyes, you take just the tip back into your mouth and continue to suckle. The taste and feel of him make you crave more, but you obey his instruction. Michael watches you closely, trying his hardest not to buck his hips and fuck your sweet mouth. He reminds himself that it's too early for that, and he wants to take care of you.

“Take your time, I wanna savour this.” He looks down at you with lustful eyes. He never thought seeing you pleasuring him would turn him on so much.

Just as you start to feel more confident, your teeth accidentally graze his sensitive skin. Your eyes widen in shock, and you try to pull away to apologize, but he holds the back of your head steady, keeping you in place.

"Do it again," he commands softly, his voice a mix of pain and pleasure.

Uncertainly, you press your teeth against his skin and give him the softest bite you can. As soon as you do, he moans, his cock twitching in your mouth. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting him to be into something like this. If his fat cock wasn't stuffing your mouth, you'd definitely be giggling.

Encouraged by his reaction, you continue sucking, occasionally using your teeth to gently graze his skin. Each time you do, he moans louder, his hips twitching involuntarily. The knowledge that you're driving him crazy fills you with a heady sense of power. You lose yourself in the act, your own arousal building with each moan and groan that escapes his lips.

Michael's hand unconsciously tightens in your hair, guiding your movements as you suckle and nibble on his cock. "Such a fast learner," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

You hum around him appreciatively, the vibrations making him groan. Your lips stretch around his shaft as you suck eagerly, lost in the sensation and taste of him. Internally, you scowl at the reminder that he won't let you do this very often. He's so protective, always concerned about your comfort and safety. But you want to please him, to show him how much you crave this.

Unbeknownst to him, you keep rubbing your thighs together, adding more pressure to your throbbing clit. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, making you more desperate for release.

Michael's pants grow heavier, and he warns, "I'm close." You can see the wheels turning in his head, debating whether or not he should pull out. Before he can make a decision, you grab onto his thigh, your eyes pleading with him not to.

His gaze softens, and he nods, letting you have what you want. "Alright, baby. You can have it."

Determined to make him proud, you wrap your hand around his stiff cock, trying to stroke it in time with your sucking. He chuckles through his breathy moans, saying, "You're so eager to please."

He pulls your hand off, not wanting you to put in more effort than you're already putting in, and starts fisting his cock on his own. Although your jaw begins to ache, you fasten your pace, needily bobbing your head up and down. You watch his gorgeous face, his hair sticking to his forehead, as he tries to keep his eyes open to look at you. As he nears his orgasm, he can't help but gently buck his hips, the pulsing head hitting the back of your throat deliciously.

Your eyes flutter as you let him take control. Your body shakes as your weeping clit begs for release as well. "I'm coming," he manages to say, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel the hot ropes of his creamy load filling your mouth. You moan around his cock at the taste, eagerly swallowing every drop. He keeps flooding your mouth, the sheer volume shocking you. The sensation drives you over the edge. As you rub your thighs harder together, hitting that sweet little spot you feel your orgasm wash over you in tides. Your hands clutch the sheets for support as you shake slightly, which makes his thick milky cum spill from the corners of your mouth and down your chin.

You do your best to swallow it all while riding out your own high. When he finally pulls out, you look spent—eyes half-lidded, breathing heavily, the bottom half of your face wet with his sticky cum. You look absolutely beautiful.

Michael gazes at you with a mixture of awe and tenderness. "You did so well for your first time," he praises, though his words go in one ear and out the other as you catch your breath. You turn over and lay on your back, staring at the ceiling. He cups your face, gently cleaning off his seed off your mouth. "Hey, sweet girl?" he asks, a hint of worry in his voice. "Was it too much?"

You shake your head but don't say a word, still lost in the lingering pleasure. He notices how tightly shut your thighs are and raises an eyebrow in curiosity. He parts them slowly, watching how they tremble.

He shakes his head, realization dawning on him. "Oh, you naughty girl," he murmurs, slipping his warm hand under your panties and feeling the slickness between your folds. "Didn't expect you to cum from just sucking my cock."

You hide your face bashfully while he slides his fingers through your wetness and feels your clit still pulsing with need under his fingertips. "Let me properly take care of that for you." He slips your panties off, exposing your slick, puffy pussy. His fingers gently part your folds, feeling how slippery and sensitive you are.

Michael's touch is gentle but confident as he explores your cunt. "I’m so proud of you," he whispers, his fingers circling your clit at a teasingly slow pace. You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Please," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "More."

Michael obliges, how can he not when his precious girl did such a good job pleasing him. He slips two of his long finger into your entrance and pumps them in and out of you. His thumb moves to circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moan loudly, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. The sensitivity from the last release helping push you over the edge once more.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple, his voice low and husky. "Cum for me again." You feel the tension building in your core. Your breathing becomes ragged, your body trembling with anticipation. With a final thrust of his fingers, you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity.

Michael watches you with a satisfied smile, his fingers still moving inside you, prolonging your pleasure. "You're so beautiful when you cum," he says softly, his thumb brushing against your clit with less fervour.

You ride out your orgasm, your body finally relaxing as the waves of ecstasy subside. Michael slowly withdraws his fingers from your quivering hole and brings them to his lips, licking them clean. He leans down, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips just as much as he can taste himself on yours.The mix of your essenes making you moan softly into the kiss.

When he pulls back, he looks into your eyes, his expression tender. You snuggle into his embrace as he lifts you and walks towards the bathroom for a much deserved bubble bath.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj @michaels-nonbinary-child @veavixen @elthoughtzos

[athenaderiva]

Noisy Neighbours

Santiago Garcia x Reader

Word count - 350 ish

Smut. Minors do not interact. 

You whimper as Santiago drags his tongue between your glistening folds, his stubble shining with your slick. Your hips arch off the bed towards him and he growls, locking his arms around your thighs to keep you in place.

“Santi, just fuck me already.” You whine impatiently. He looks up at you with a smug smile, loving how frustrated you get when he makes you wait. “I swear to god, fuck me or I’ll finish myself off.” You growl. He tsks, lightly swatting the inside of your thigh.

“Patience is a virtue, hermosa.” He reminds you before he delves back in, sucking on your clit until you cry out. He releases you, moving up your body and slamming his lips against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him closer to you and he chuckles against your lips. One hand wraps loosely around your neck and his other hand snakes between your bodies, guiding his cock towards your throbbing core. He pushes inside, just slightly, just enough that the head is situated snugly.

“What are you waiting for?” You huff and he arches an eyebrow. You wet your lips before giving in. “Please fuck me, need to feel you stretching me out, need you to put a baby in me, please, Santi.” You whisper and he grins, pushing the rest of the way in. and you almost scream at the feeling of finally being full after hours of teasing.

The next morning there’s a note under your door. You wince as you squat down to pick it up and your cheeks burn as you skim what it says.

It’s great that you guys are trying for a kid, but can you maybe keep it down next time? It’s pretty distracting when we’re trying to sleep.

Santiago snatches the note from your hands and laughs, grabbing a magnet and putting it up on the fridge like it’s a source of pride for him. You smack his arm lightly but don’t take it down.

[lieblinqs]

retrouvaille. (n.) the joy of being reunited with someone again after a long time apart.

simon 'ghost' riley x civilian!reader

after getting heavily injured on a mission, simon gets a warm welcome from his beloved - but he needs them to promise him one thing.

//wounds, basic angst, very fluffy at the end! f!reader but only bcs “lass” is used once

word count: 2,134

You never really notice how small your apartment feels when there's no one but you - how comforting it is to finally feel his presence back after weeks and months of an empty house - you couldn't even call it a home until then. Because your home was standing tall in your doorframe, hunched just the slightest bit, dressed in gear and was reaching for your body. "I can't make it if you don't promise me to be okay."

"I don't want to be okay without you."

You've never been so on point with keeping track of time until you've had to wait for Simon to come back from deployment. When the final day arrives, you haven't slept for not a minute. You couldn't imagine not being there for him when he finally arrives — so when you hear the familiar heavy steps and keys rustling from behind your apartment door, your heart completely stops for a second. You've never been up this fast, making your way to your small entryway in a heartbeat - probably hitting your foot against a few tables of yours while running too, making sure everything that you've planned is intact for the moment. But that plan gets thrown off immediately by pure impulse and instinct.

He reached out for your body and you jumped in, like a natural body reaction; your bodies fitting together like a puzzle meant to be, the familiar musky scent of him that you swear you hate, (but, if we're being honest, you truly missed and love) all of it taking over your senses. He held you so tight to himself as if you'd disappear if he let go – like a man starved of human contact.

During all this time of knowing Simon, you've already figured that his actions speak more than words – even with you, he responds in short answers. He's more of a listener, anyways. So that hold told more than any of your words could ever explain, not even those you scripted and waited to tell him. Without words, you both exchanged everything you needed to say. "...Simon." you finally managed to murmur against his vest, yet all you could make out was his name; hands gripping onto whatever piece of cloth you could find on him.

"In the flesh." hearing his voice again is like a nostalgic hit in the stomach. Like listening to an old song you used to cry to before. "Missed me?" His exhausted smug face was wiped off by your lips crashing against each other; It was his voice that took you out of the shocked state and made you pull his Balaclava off completely – kissing him like it was truly the last time you could. Simon laid his one hand into your hair and pulled you closer to him, the other holding at your waist. Both your eyes were screwed shut, just enjoying the euphoric relief of tension

You didn't even know how long you two have been stuck like this, but you could stay like that forever. That is if you weren't mortals, who need air to breathe.

"How many weeks has it been..fuckin’ hell, months even. –"

"67 days."

"...You counted it?"

You decide burying your head deeper into his chest was enough of an answer. You did count it – and his heartstrings were pulled as guilt flows through them. He didn't deserve to come back to this. Ghost didn't deserve to be loved like this, he believes.

Leave wasn't always comforting like this for Simon.

Well, comforting, sure. Depends on who views it. He found comfort — but in the bottom of a bottle instead of your embrace. His apartment was empty; and not just empty in the physical sense. It was empty of life, just dim light coming from the halfway opened windows, unopened mail and boxes scattered around, only indicators that there even was someone living here.

But now he, out of all people, had the priceless privilege of coming back to you. To a warm home with someone who's waiting for him, who's waiting for Ghost to leave and Simon to come back.

"Every single day that you were gone." You never really noticed how small your apartment feels when there's no one but you - how comforting it is to finally feel his presence back after weeks and months of an empty house - you couldn't even call it a home until then.

Because your home was standing tall in your doorframe, hunched just the slightest bit, dressed in gear and was reaching for your body.

"Don't just stay at the door like some jehovah's witness, Please." You give an awkward snort and make your way to close the door behind him. "...How was it?"

"Harsh."

You knew better than to ask about details of his job. You knew where he was, what he was doing, and (about) when he comes back. It was enough for him, because if there's one thing he never wants to happen it's to bring you into the operations. You didn't need to know more.

You were curious, sure, and he would tell you about the Taskforce once or twice - both of you laughing at some dumb thing that happened to a rookie or that one time he absolutely obliterated Soap in training — for the record, he is very proud of that. (Please tell him you are too.) He'd tell you about the impressive shots he did, and some ego-boosting updates on his strength that you're sick of hearing, but that's about it. You were okay with that to some extent, too.

While helping out Simon get out of his uniform and lay off his gear aside, you had to glance back at it twice before realizing what you saw on the side of his stomach.

"Jesus fucking-... You told me you'd be more careful this time!" You hiss out at the sight of his wounds painted with dark, dried blood, practically left unattended except for the basic stitches and what looks like some worn-out bandages. "Not quite easy when you've got targets in yer back love." simply huffing at his remark, you shake your head with annoyance at his lack of care.

Without a word or further complaint, you drag him into your bedroom and sat down with him on the shared queen-sized bed.

Taking a closer look on what you were being left with, you began by cleaning off his scarred skin;

" Fuckin' hell—"

"...Might sting?" A quiet chuckle, that you just couldn't hold in, escapes your lips as well as a soft smile that creeps upon them.

"But whose fault is that now.." The look in those deep, brown eyes that you fell in love with a long time ago, now signal you that familiar sign to what this is going to lead into. Your own face scrunches at the thought of it; so, so close to breaking down at the already overwhelming situation. "Can't always come out without a scratch." "That is not a scratch." "I'm jus' saying. You know what I do and what comes with it. Right? Listen."

"Simon." The first time, it's a warning to him - to remind you avoid this conversation like the plague for a reason.

"You'll live a long time without me —"

"Don't." The second, it's a plea. A begging whine brought in a shaky voice and accompanied by eyes swollen with tears, interrupting what other painful daggers of truth he was about to give you - he always did this in the worst moments.

It's so easy to pretend that it couldn't happen.

"I need to know you'll be fine on your own without me." And there it was. His voice was grating and raised, — if you didn't know him you'd think he was mad. But he isn't. He's frustrated and this is the only way he can deal with it - He's frustrated because It's killing him to talk about it too, tearing at his heartstrings, knowing that he might not come back to you after one goodbye. That after one unlucky mission, one unlucky shot, one unlucky ‘scratch’... he won't come back to your embrace where war and blood find no home. His dark eyes that indicate death and a cold-hearted killer on the battlefield are now yearning for support and understatement in yours. You could've sworn you even saw them beginning to look glossy. His voice now begins to hitch and breaks itself - the grip he had on you now trembling and weakening, eyebrows furrowing; a vulnerable sight that Simon swore to never let anyone see again. Yet here he is, kneeling in front of his love on their shared bed, begging for a single promise. "I wanted that to be the first thing we do when i come back, in case.." He drifts off as he gives you a stern look into your eyes, his hands gripping your arms in a tight hold. "In case there won't be another chance."

"I can't make it if you don't promise me to be okay." "I don't want to be okay without you."

He doesn't know what to say; he wishes he never had to even hear that. But this is what comes with loving Simon.

"And you won't have to. But if something happens —" A quiet, cried-out whisper interrupts him once again. "Don't say that." In return, he can't bring himself to respond with anything else other than an exaggerated exhale and a head tilted to look down. "...If something happens, you promise to live out your life, alright? None of that 'mournin’ for me' crap, yeah?" Simon wasn't one to comfort others, even though he tried his best for you. But god, he does know how to make you cry.

"Tell me you'll stay strong for me." "I don't take orders" a weak smile creeps onto your face as you jokingly scoff, but still linked with that sad expression.

"..."

When silence falls between the both of you and no sign of that hazy and mean playfulness in the dark orbs of his that usually lingers, letting you know he means it when he tells you to confirm. Who are you to disobey the L.T.’s orders?

"I'll try." After a few moments run by, you manage to say something in return with a shaky voice – basically forcing yourself to accept that pill that's so hard to swallow.

"I'll try to Simon. But I don't know how long I can try for." Averting your gaze from his, you finish touching up his stitches and lay off the med kit into some random bedside table drawer.

"I want to know that you're always somewhere out there, that that smile of yours' still goes around." he took your jaw into his hands and his dreary eyes were taking you in, your head immediately melting into the familiar hold of his as the calloused thumbs begin to wipe your tears off your pretty face.

"Come on lass, traveled back to you n' all that, and ya won't even give me a smile? Get me a refund." Losing to fight back a smile, you hit your one hand against his chest lightly and hide your smiling face into the crook of his neck - a heavy weight lifted off your shoulders, and where there were sobs, there are now those warm giggles of yours that Simon dreams of when he's gone.

"I'm tired."

"What's stopping ya?"

"Your need to shower."

"Oi, piss off." He grunts a chuckle under his breath as he throws you over his shoulder and heads to the bathroom; placing a kiss onto the hips that he was carrying. "Barely home for an hour and ya already have an attitude. Gonna have to get rid of that."

"Bet you do."

The water droplets grazing both your nude bodies as he leans his head atop of yours, your hands working their way to his face and gently rubbing it's paint off. — An vulnerably intimate and loving scenario between you two. You have to admit, it took an ungodly amount of time to build that amount of trust between you. But you'd wait for him over, and over, and over again if it meant to be together like this. When you two finally get out, he insists of carrying you into your bed.

His embrace feels so comforting, his bicep curled around you, pulling you into his chest – his heartbeat and the dimmed lights lulling you to sleep. It's a perfect way to warm ones heart after one half of it was gone for so long.

"I've missed this Simon."

"It's what I fight for, love." It's so easy to pretend that it can be always like this.

tags: @lovsavangeline2

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list as well ^.^ pls like reblog or comment!! i love seeing ur interactions, ++ my requests are open for anything a/n : also should i keep the small font or write in a normal one??

[maevesheart]

let’s make a deal

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ she-devil (02)

PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

summary: slapping peter parker has its consequences. but mr stark and your father make sure that this “community service” will work out in both of their favors. but that means asking things neither you nor peter may be able to do.

WC: 2k

TW: swearing

“what?!” your loud voice cuts through the tension in the small office of your principal.

your father’s face is hard and stern, and he hasn’t spoken a word the whole time.

he is sat to your left, peter is to your right, and peter’s aunt may is on his other side.

“there is no way i’m doing that,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“excuse me, mr morita, could you repeat that?” you father asks, raising an eyebrow.

he is just as upset as you are. this is pointless. as far as he can see; you stood up for yourself.

“of course, mr griswold. here at midtown, we do not condone violence of any kinds. miss griswold’s harassment of mr parker today in the cafeteria violates our school rules. since i am the principal, and i am in charge of keeping our school safe, i must give miss griswold a punishment.”

he finishes, looking at the four of you.

peter and you are sat as far away from each other as possible. his aunt has an anxious look on her face, and you feel sort of bad.

maybe you shouldn’t have slapped him…

no! y/n shut up! he spread lies about you! you are in the right, not him.

“i understand, mr morita, but i’m sure a weeks suspension is a little dramatic,” your father put on his work voice, demanding and frightening.

you found yourself wincing at his words. he was the only person you were ever scared of.

“my father’s right, sir, i only stood up for myself,” you defended, putting on your puppy-dog eyes.

“i’m sorry, miss griswold, but if you wish to change your punishment, you must go to the board of education.”

you sigh, pretty much accepting the defeat.

wait! this is peter’s fault, so why shouldn’t he go down too?

“mr morita, if i may,” you start,

“of course,”

“like i said, i was only standing up for myself. i felt attacked by peter’s cruel words and he was spreading lies about me. lies that include activities which i did not partake in. he is practically sexualizing me, which if i’m not wrong, goes against rule 142 of school conduct. surely he should receive some sort of punishment as well.” you reasoned, planting a sweet tone and a charming smile.

you watched the corners of your fathers mouth twitch into a smirk.

“you are right, miss. i suppose mr parker has broken rules as well. two weeks of community service for the both of you. that’s all.” he dismissed the four of you with the wave of his hand, and you and your father exited with grins on the both of your faces.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

COMMUNITY SERVICE; DAY ONE

when your matte black mclaren pulls up into the parking lot where you’re meeting peter, you immediately don’t want to be there.

after you left the school yesterday, peter had given you his number so you two could communicate on where to work. mr morita said the only way he would let you both back was if you did the work together.

you were dreading it.

the minutes felt like hours, so when peter finally walked up to you, you thought you had been sitting there for seven hours.

he eyed you, and raised an eyebrow at your outfit.

you were wearing black tights, a burberry skirt, a white turtleneck sweater, and knee-high black chanel boots. what was so wrong with your outfit?

you gave him a look and crossed your arms over your chest. normally you didn’t care what people thought of you…

“god this sucks!” you breathed out, throwing your head back.

peter rolled his eyes, and sat down next to you.

“listen, y/n, i’m sorry about what you think i did, but i suggest that we somehow find a way to work together to get this over with,” he spoke, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

“whatever, peter, i don’t really care!”

he shook his head and stood up, walking over to the woman with the clipboard.

you watched him walk away and huffed, he was getting on your nerves way more than you expected.

deep down, you knew that he didn’t say the things harry said he did. harry was like that though; he loved drama, and usually started it on his own.

once peter came back, he was carrying two black trash bags, and two metal sticks.

“what are those?” you asked, reluctantly taking them from him.

“our community service. now stand up,”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

“peter! i’m tired. can we rest?” you pleaded, watching him pick up crushed soda cans.

“fine. but only five minutes,” he sighed, shaking his head at your laziness.

he had done all the work, the only thing you could really said you did was complain.

sighing as he slumped down next to you, his head shot up as you squealed next to him.

“gregor!” you jumped up, running to the black bentley that pulled up next to the gazebo the two of you were seated at.

he stood up and hesitantly followed you, unsure of this strange man.

gregor — the man you ran to — offered peter a smile as he got out of the backseat, and extended his hand once peter was within reach.

“doctor gregor mathers. you must be peter parker, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

peter examined the man before giving his hand.

they shook hands for a slight moment before you started practically climbing doctor mathers.

“pleaseee tell me you’ve come to save me! i need to get out of here!” you begged, inching closer and closer to the car door.

“yes, i have actually. the both of you. your father wishes to meet with you both.” gregor said sternly, motioning towards the car.

you climbed in immediately, gregor slid in next to you, and then when peter got in, he was across.

gregor told the driver to head for gris-rise, the building that held griswold tech, the company your father owned.

gregor had heard of peter’s internship at stark industries — the competition for your fathers company — so he was hesitant when your father announced he wanted both you and peter to come to his office.

one thing was for sure, gregor would be keeping an eye on peter.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the elevator ride up to your father’s office was quiet and tense.

peter awkwardly stood opposite of you and gregor, and continuously shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

he watched you carefully as you applied lipstick using the long mirrors along the whole elevator. gregor stood closely next to you, keeping an eye on peter.

the doors chimed and opened wide, presenting your fathers completely glass office. 50 foot walls lined the entire room, completely dark grey glass windows.

his dark mahogany desk sat in the middle, with two grey plush chairs across from it.

your heeled boots clicked on the marble floor as you waltzed up to your father, who was faced away from you, standing up and staring out one of his many windows.

“hi, daddy,” you smiled, giving him a peck on the cheek as he turned around. “hello, darling,” he spoke back, turning around and facing peter and gregor with a glimmering smirk.

“welcome to gristech, peter parker.”

peter’s chest tightened as he lightly squinted, taking in your fathers smile. his teeth glinted white in the bright office, and he looked almost sinister.

peter lightly nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat, next to gregor.

“gregor you’re free to go, my biggest thank yous.” your dad smiled, giving gregor a squeeze on the shoulder.

“of course, ken. i’ll be back shortly,” gregor said, giving you a tight lipped smile and nodding to peter as he walked past him.

the sound of his expensive dress shoes echoed in the open room as you and peter were ushered to your fathers desk.

peter reluctantly sat down next to you, uneasily looking around and trying to find the quickest way to escape.

“i’m very happy you agreed to come here, mr parker. i’m kennedy griswold, ceo and president at gristech, but please just call me ken.” a bright smile once again exposed itself on your fathers face.

“of course, sir.” peter said, lightly bowing his head.

“now, i spoke to midtown, and principal morita agreed to let me bend the conditions of your community service just a bit. i figured you two would quickly tire of the slaving away they had you both doing. so instead, i’ve had both of you transferred here. to be my interns for these 2 weeks.”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

AVENGERS TOWER

tony’s fingers pressed into his temples, listening to peter jabber about what ken griswold had told him.

gristech was stark industries biggest competitor. obviously, tony wasn’t happy, but he figured that this could be used to his advantage.

“listen kid,” tony started, placing a hand on peters shoulder, “ken griswold is no dummy. in fact he might almost be as smart as me. there’s definitely a reason he’s doing this, and it’s not for his daughter; lord knows he’s never cared about his family. especially after what he did to his wife… but that’s besides the point.”

peter gave tony a confused look, wondering where he could be going with this.

“i want you to keep a close eye on ken griswold. see his next moves, what he’s making now. then come tell me. we will always be a step ahead.”

“sir, i don’t know if i’m cut out for it. you know i’m clumsy and sometimes stupid and,” peter awkwardly laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“you’re smart, parker. you’ll do what’s right, you think with your heart. just don’t trust the girl, she’s beautiful, yes, but she’s a little devil. i’ve heard the things she’s done.”

tony was talking about you, of course.

“make her fall for you. make her trust you. make her feel like she can tell you anything. get her to tell you everything. we need this information to get ahead, parker.”

peter shook his head. he wasn’t cut out for that. how could tony expect him to fake feelings for you when he’s loved you for years? how would he live with himself?

“mr stark…”

“i’m counting on you, kid. don’t let me down.” tony gave him a rough pat on the back, and left the room, leaving peter alone with his thoughts.

his jumbled, twisted thoughts. thoughts that were going to eat him alive.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

GRIS-RISE

“no! i absolutely will not be doing that!” you screeched, appalled that your father thought you would ever associated yourself with peter parker.

“y/n arabella griswold. this is not me asking. this is me demanding. you will get peter parker to trust you, and you will get peter parker to tell you everything he knows about stark industries. i do not care what it takes. want a new chanel? consider it done.”

“daddy! i don’t want to! i hate peter parker! how can you make me do this after those things he said about me?” you we’re shocked. your father was a bad man, you knew this, but he wasn’t evil.

this was out of character of him.

yet, as always, you complied. you would do anything for your fathers approval, something you had been seeking all your life.

you never had a problem getting approval from your mother. she was beautiful, and kind. like a ray of sunshine. your father was dark and gloomy like a thunderstorm. they balanced each other out.

ever since your mothers death when you were a mere child, things hadn’t been the same. your father turned dark and cold and shut you and georgie out.

so of course, if it meant you had to make peter parker fall in love with you to make your father proud, you’d do it.

it can’t be that hard, can it?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

[periprose]

Florence - Chapter Six

You and Peter tell MJ the truth about the fashion show debacle. Bachelor/bachelorette parties are held the next day, Peter learns what was bugging Harry so much, and you and Peter start getting distracted by each other (in a particularly lustful fashion). The day after that, there's a massive heatwave and it's only one more night until Harry and MJ's wedding.

Some horny stuff, lavish partying, protective!Logan, mutual pining, lots of mushy feelings and fluff, lots of texting through out events, first kiss (kind of!)

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

MJ’s hard to find. Peter is not even especially focused on finding her, because he’s trailing his hands around you after what just happened, and you are not really inclined to tell him to stop.

You ask around the party- most people assume that MJ is with Harry, but Harry isn’t with her, and her parents are too busy dancing to answer your question, even if you say it’s somewhat urgent.

MJ’s sister laughs when you ask her. “She’s very shy sometimes. Probably hiding away in her bedroom.”

“But MJ’s kinda loud and crazy.” Peter remarks, not in a mean way, just pointing out how your friend can be really out there. “What do you mean shy?”

“She has her moments.” Gayle answers, and you don’t think that’s true.

Just as you thought, MJ’s not in her bedroom either, but as you and Peter exit, holding hands as you’ve become accustomed to, who else would be in the corridor, waiting for the bathroom to open up, other than your father?

The implication is not lost on you. How it looks like you two have just stolen each other away in a corner of the house during the party, taking each other as lovers in horny secrecy- and there’s a little too much evidence proving the fact, you with your still messed up hair, Peter with his partially unbuttoned shirt, the drunken air of heat around you two- and you both just came out of a bedroom. 

You feel a little embarrassed before remembering that you are twenty-six, and Logan can’t exactly punish you for something you didn’t do, and even if you did do it, you’re totally allowed to. You’re not a stupid, unwary teenager- despite what Logan thinks, Peter did not take advantage of you. 

Peter is kind of loosely gripping your hand, and you think he’s going to let go, probably out of fear that your father will kill him- and you hold his hand a little tighter, refusing to let him go.

“Hey, dad.” You say kind of breezily, a little wary of Logan’s eyes flickering from your intertwined hands to your face. “Do you know where MJ is?”

“Ah… Little Wolverine.” Logan’s voice is laced with tenderness as he stares at you, and his face is battling some girl-dad extremes right now- he wants to protect you and be there for you all at the same time, and he doesn’t want Peter anywhere near you, not after how you experienced such heartbreak not so long ago- but he lets it slide for now. He can see that you’re not willing to talk about it right now, and Peter’s staring at the ground with a guilty expression that Logan can’t help but feel a little bad about.

Sure, Peter’s got his hands on Logan’s only daughter- but he’s still one of your best friends, and Logan always thought he would like if you ended up with him, because Peter was another bright kid, a cute scamp that Logan thought wasn’t nearly as annoying as all the other boys that had no right to be near you. He’s seen the both of you grow up together- how could he not be a little bemused about the whole thing?

“I think I saw her heading into the bar.” Logan states, and you nod and pull Peter alongside you, while Logan stares at you, wondering when you had to grow up and wishing he could just prevent you getting hurt.

/

Sure enough, MJ is in the bar, trying to carry like three different bottles of champagne on her own- Peter is quick to grab one as it’s falling and you grab the other that’s still in her arms.

“Ooh, that was close.” MJ pants, and rests against the counter. “There could’ve been bubbly everywhere.”

“Don’t worry, Peter would’ve caught all of them if that happened.” You know very well about Peter’s weird uncanny ability to catch things that are falling, or sense when things are coming towards you- he’s pulled you out of the way of random people several times, despite never seeing them. 

“That’s true. Peter once pulled Gwen out of the way when she almost tripped over the balcony. I think it was in your guys’ first year of uni? I was visiting.” MJ comments, and you realize you weren’t there, because you were starting to refuse Peter’s invitations downtown to ESU. 

It’s not like campus was that faraway, but you couldn’t handle it at the time. Now you feel sad that you missed out on something. And a little stupid.

“Really?” You ask. “I wasn’t there, what exactly happened?”

“Ah… if I remember correctly, Gwen was crying about something that happened during class.” Peter starts, and recognition seems to fall on him. “Oh, right. She thought she was about to lose her scholarship.”

“Yeah, poor girl was crying and blubbering- you know when you cry so hard you can’t breathe? That was her.” MJ nods, pursing her lips as she thinks it over. “I don’t think any of us realized how close she was to the edge. Except for Peter.”

Peter looks sheepish. “It was just an instinct, you know? I heard her foot stumble, and the sound of the wind- her back was leaning over the edge when I pulled her back.”

You imagine Gwen shrieking, her platinum blonde hair flowing in the autumn wind as she teetered for a moment, only to be cut off as Peter’s hands grabbed her. How terrifying- Gwen could’ve died.

You say as much, and MJ nods. 

“It was really scary. She held onto Peter for a while, and he was really nice about the whole thing.” She gives him a soft squeeze of the hand, and you feel like Peter’s actually just so… sweet. 

It’s something you’ve always known, but thinking about it now, you really know that you love him. You love that Peter always seems to be thinking for others, even if he can arguably be a bit dense about his own feelings- you could never say that Peter didn’t put others first, that he always tried his best to make everyone feel a little better.

It’s funny how little realizations like this can just strike you. You know Peter and MJ aren’t aware of how you feel on the inside right now, but some part of you wishes you could stay in Florence with Peter forever. Stay in this moment of being next to him, and being in love with him as he is, and not having to worry about the rest of the world. 

“You’re a good person.” You say, and Peter gets a funny smile on his face.

“You say that like it’s surprising, Howlett. But thank you.” He ruffles your hair, and MJ grins at the two of you. “Another good-person thing incoming: me and Howlett have some news about your Dior contract.”

“Oh, really?” MJ leans forward, placing the bottle back on the counter as she sits on it. “What is it?”

“Bucky and Elektra were the ones behind the email. They never actually told Dior that you were misusing funds, which is fair because Dior would’ve never believed them.” You explain, and MJ tilts her head, somewhat confused. “The entire thing was a sham. Sent by Bucky, probably based off of something that’s happening to Elektra… they sent you a fake email with a doctored balance sheet, for reasons I’m not sure about. Maybe to get back at someone who’s actually in Dior’s good graces?”

“A fake email?” MJ’s mouth is agape, and she scrolls through her phone, and you watch as the power of a thousand suns suddenly light up inside her eyes. “A fake fucking email?!”

“MJ-”

“No. No. That’s literally so-” MJ starts cursing, things you would never repeat to your own mother if she somehow made an ill-advised appearance in your life again. “God, I spent literal weeks if not months worrying and crying about this- it made me feel anxious about the wedding stuff too- and you’re telling me it was basically an elaborate prank? I would’ve just not shown up to New York Fashion Week and then shit really would’ve gotten real!”

It’s starting to make sense to you now. Bucky and Elektra would somewhat benefit from less competition if MJ was blacklisted from Dior’s shows, especially because she dared to just not come after being given the privilege of modelling for them. 

She jumps off her seat at the counter, grabbing your shoulders, and you’re taken aback, sputtering in the face of MJ’s rage. Peter hoists her a bit away from you, or at least- he tries to, his arms coming up under hers, and he’s dangling her up in the air, but MJ has a lot of strength, especially when she’s upset, and her fingers hurt a little as they tighten and squeeze around your shoulders.  

“Lettie. Tell me right now. Should I kick them out? Is there potential for them doing worse since they’re here?” MJ huffs out, and you breathe a sigh of relief that MJ isn’t actually upset at you. 

“Considering Bucky had his hands all over Howlett earlier, I don’t think there’s any lower you can get.” Peter mutters, clearly still kind of pissed over that. His jaw clenches with tension, and then he finally pulls MJ aside, and she stands, crossing her arms.

“Sorry, Lettie. Bucky really can be creepy, but I thought he would know better at a wedding.” She rolls her eyes. “That does it- I’m uninviting them.”

“Now?” You ask, but MJ is already walking towards the backyard entrance, and you and Peter give each other a look before following her. “Wait- MJ, hang on!”

“What?” She stops for one moment and Peter shakes his head.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks gently, and MJ inhales, her chest puffing up, red anger spreading from her heart to her face.

“Of course I want to do this! I feel like killing them, how could they- how could they do that to me? I’m sick of being nice to assholes.” MJ breaks into a brisk run, but you grab her arm, and get yanked forward as you do your best to stop her.

Models and their long legs- Peter swallows a laugh as he watches you, with your shorter stature, attempt to pull back MJ, and he easily helps you just by holding her other arm.

“MJ, listen. Think carefully.” You whisper to her, and she’s still upset but she is listening. “You have a lot of potential notoriety if you kick them out now. There are people everywhere- other models invited, networking people, hell, even Harry’s tech corporation people. You could be infamous for the wrong reasons, and not everyone knows about the email thing.”

“But… But I…” MJ sighs, knowing that you’re right. “God, for just once in my life I wanted to give it to them. I wanted them to feel like they were tiny, small, like I did for the last few weeks. And they really, really deserve it.”

“You can still do that.” Peter remarks, but he looks upset, and rightfully so that MJ had had such a hard time. “Just do it when there are no consequences to you.”

MJ takes it in, and after careful consideration, tells you guys what she thinks. “I’m going to keep them here- I want to be totally in control of how they find out that they’ll be banned from any proper fashion house shows indefinitely. After I tell Dior all about it, of course. Might as well take the high road for now so it all comes crashing down later.”

MJ sounds rather giddy, almost borderline evil, but you have to let her have it for once. The nicest people are the scariest when they’re pushed to their limits. 

A chill breeze enters the Villa as she pulls you and Peter outside- the rest of the night is a blur of dancing, where you and MJ screeching songs in each others’ faces, relief about everything clearly making her mood a lot better than it was previously.

/

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, or when you managed to get back upstairs to your bedroom, but you wake up pretty late.

“What?” You murmur as you check your phone. It’s 4:00 PM. “Oh, fuck.”

You sleepily sit up, and surprisingly, you don’t have a hangover- but it’s probably only because you’ve slept so long. You wonder where everyone is.

Someone knocks on your door, and you tell them to come in. It’s Gwen, her trademark small smile and platinum blonde hair making you feel less tired already.

“Hey, Lettie.” She sits on your bed, and you feel kind of dishevelled for having slept so long. “I thought I’d come by to tell you to get ready.”

“Huh?”

“Oh. I guess you didn’t know?” Gwen plays with a strand of her hair, and looks apologetic. “Today is the bachelorette party, and the bachelor party, but of course we’re going to MJ’s bachelorette party. I hope you’re okay with partying even more- it’s at some swanky club.”

“Oh.” You yawn, and you shake your head. “Meh, whatever. It’s just one crazy week- for the rest of my life I’ll be super moderate and healthy.”

Gwen giggles. “It’s good to see you’re up to it. I can’t imagine what MJ would have said if you weren’t there.”

After a bit of showering and preening and cleaning yourself up, you’re given your bachelorette dress by Gwen. Natalia, Kitty, Wanda, Betty, and Gayle (MJ’s sister) are in your room as well. It’s nice to be with them- you remember Gayle is like uber responsible and she combs your hair back and zips you into your dress before you can even ask for help. Betty is pretty nice, but she’s always in a bit of a mood. Natalia, Kitty, and Wanda are actually a lot sweeter than you would’ve assumed- they only offer helpful tips on fashion and no one is out to criticize you.

You blankly wonder where Elektra could be, if she’s even invited to the whole affair. She must be- but perhaps she’s getting ready on her own. Perhaps MJ is slowly beginning to ice her out.

Everyone is giggling, gossiping, getting ready- and you feel like this is what sisterhood is all about sometimes. The intimacy of the beautification process is one that you’re not sure men understand. By the end of all the dressing up, accessorising, and makeup, everyone looks kinda matching. The style is glitz, sparkle, as much as you could possible adorn on yourselves- there are little gems glued on your face, sparkly highlighter everywhere, and everyone just looks glowing, ethereal, shiny. Like a bunch of fairies.

MJ’s bought eight matching dresses in style- bodycon, spaghetti strap dresses that are mid thigh length, accentuating your figure, and just bedazzled in a million tiny gems. Reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe’s infamous Happy-Birthday-Mr. President dress, just a lot shorter. Yours is in a burnt red colour that screams red hot spice- MJ’s is a deep, sultry midnight-blue, Betty is of course in black as usual, Gayle is in green, and Gwen is in a pretty plum. Kitty and Natalia are matching- they’re in a pretty opalesque seashell pink- and Wanda is in wine. Despite the colours ranging so wildly, the shimmer of the jewels on your dresses unify the lot of you.

“We look like a girl group.” You point out, and everyone flashes a silly pose. You take a picture of the eight of you- just for the memories and all that. 

After just a second of deliberation, you post it to your Instagram story- it’ll be gone in 24 hours, and you haven’t been posting anything for the whole trip. Why not, right?

Peter responds to it almost instantly.

pbp replied to your story: not fair

pbp: you cant just post a picture like this and not expect me to come n see you

littlewolverine: it looks that good?

pbp: better than that. you look gorgeous

littlewolverine: what about everyone else in the picture peter

pbp: there are other ppl in the picture?

littlewolverine: omg stop lol

pbp: just kidding. Everyone looks great but u just drew my attention first. I LOVE the dress

littlewolverine: thank you :) 

pbp: you should do full glam more often lol. Stop hiding in ur giant sweaters in your room

littlewolverine: I’ll do that if u do the same thing lol. Stop hiding ur muscles 👀 i saw them on the beach

pbp: ohhh so u were checking me out? if i had known that i would’ve built more muscle

littlewolverine: no no. you are fine the way you are, promise. 

littlewolverine: so what are u guys wearing?

pbp sent a picture.

You open it, and it’s a picture of Harry, Peter, Bucky (!), Miles, and three tech bros you don’t recognize. They’re wearing fancy dress pants, button up shirts, and suspenders. Very sophisticated, old-money, Italian aesthetic.

littlewolverine: im surprised buck is there

pbp: that’s the first thing u have to say?? wow

littlewolverine: sorry. Are u sure you’re not secretly italian? How do u pull this off so well? Very hot 10/10 no notes. Love the suspenders too.

pbp: i think MJ is gonna let buck and elektra “have” the upper hand for now… and then destroy them later.

littlewolverine: wow that’s dark. But they deserve that

pbp: anyways thanks howlett. Wasn’t really feeling the look but u changed my mind. I think im gonna go become a part of that mafia aesthetic that the youth enjoy so much

littlewolverine: hahahaha

littlewolverine: you’ll surely become a top ten tiktok star or whatever it is. Idk either

pbp: we’re old as fuck. 

/

Although bachelorette parties are fun, and you enjoy conversing and dancing with the girls- Elektra is the only one who’s a bit ostracized and she seems secretly panicked as to why- you spend most of the evening texting Peter. You can’t help it- he’s just that funny and annoyingly distracting. 

pbp: uhhh there’s a stripper dancing on the bar counter now. howlett what do i do

littlewolverine: idk man, look at her, don’t look at her? Up to u really

pbp: but do i look at her bc i respect her as a person and im not shaming her for her work? Or do i not look at her bc i disagree with a world that has normalized female bodies as sexual objects, and has generally coerced women into feeling comfortable w that? 

littlewolverine: uhHHhhhhhh. Okay ask her if she had no other choice but to become a stripper. And then decide from there, you wise philosopher lol

pbp: thanks for the advice. I think im gonna look away because she’s giving some of the tech bros a lap dance… and uhhhhh out of respect to u ofc

littlewolverine: whaaat. im chill w it

pbp: not to make u feel bad. but what about what happened w mj?

littlewolverine: that’s totally different, this is a random stripper. Feelings and best friends are way more heavy. I thought u were emotionally literate lol

pbp: so u wont mind if i get a lap dance from this lady? 

littlewolverine: ah, u got me there. Okay, but only if im allowed to get one from some random male stripper

littlewolverine: I kid, i kid. I wont do that lol. Anyways its fine if you want to, its not like we’re official 

pbp: omg

pbp: howlett come on i was joking too. Why tf would i do that? 

pbp: and we’re not official YET. im not screwing that up for something stupid i dont even care about

littlewolverine: oh idk. I didnt want to screw up either lol. What if i was putting too much pressure on u to commit

pbp: I want to commit lol. Im waiting for the signal from u

littlewolverine: okay. Maybe when things are less busy. and we can actually be alone. then it’ll happen.

Peter sends a bunch of heart emojis and you feel your heart swell with warmth and all those gooey feelings that you swore you’d never feel again.

“You’re totally glued to your phone.” Gwen says as she sits next to you, taking a break from the dancing. She’s sweating a lot, and she takes a long drink of water.

“Ah, well… I don’t know. Maybe parties aren’t my thing.” You try to make an excuse, but Gwen gives you that smile, where she already knows what’s up.

“And Peter Parker is definitely your thing, right?” She jokes, and you blush but nod ever so timidly. It’s the first time you’ve really admitted that this is happening, and Gwen squees and hugs you. 

“I knew it! You guys are so meant to be. Miles always said that you have chemistry with him.” Gwen confesses and you wonder if it’s just been that obvious to everyone else, all these years.

/

Peter, on the other hand, is being pulled into the dance circle by Miles, at their own respective party. He didn’t even get a chance to see you in all your glamour at the Villa, try as he might- everyone was ushered away before he could steal a moment with you. 

He resists the urge to check his phone, and eventually, leans against the bar counter with Harry, who looks solemn. 

“Hey, Har.” Peter tries to be gentle, because of his last rocky conversation together with him.

“Ah. Peter.” Harry wordlessly holds up his fist for a fist bump, which Peter gratefully does. “How’s the party for you?”

“It’s fine… I’ve spent most of the time texting Howlett.” Peter admits, and Harry laughs.

“Did I knock some sense into you?”

“...Maybe.” Peter grimaces and then laughs. “Okay, yeah. I needed to hear it- that I wasn’t treating her right.”

Harry nods, and then decides to be honest. “Actually. I needed to hear some harsh truths from you, too. I was kind of ignoring MJ and what she wanted. And it wasn’t all perfect and fixed until you said something.”

Peter shrugs. “You would’ve fixed it anyways. What happened?”

Harry pauses. “I think I was getting too preoccupied with Oscorp. Dad is really on my ass about taking it seriously, and I am, I just… I didn’t talk to MJ for a bit because I thought she’d freak on me about it. Sometimes we argue about who’s doing what correctly and I just kinda ghosted her about it.”

“Hey, at least you talked to her about, right?” Peter feels bad. “Sorry that I made you out to be some sort of serial cheater. I just remember in high school, and even college, you kinda used to be on-and-off with MJ a lot.”

Harry snickers. “Yeah, that wasn’t very healthy of me, was it? But we got over that a while back. MJ told me if I was really, truly serious about her, I wouldn’t keep leaving her hanging like that, and she had a point. I couldn’t imagine being without her- and that’s why I wanted you to do the same thing with Howlett, you blind idiot.”

“I knew that couldn’t be your own knowledge. MJ really taught you everything, didn’t she.” Peter comments and Harry immediately starts punching him jokingly, before letting go of his fist and admitting that it’s kinda true. 

Peter coughs but he’s all good. He’s happy. He’s glad to have you, Harry, and MJ at his side again.

His phone beeps with another text from you.

littlewolverine: omg look at this

You’ve sent him a picture of a spider crawling up the wall, and the next picture is of it landing on Elektra, and the very last thing is a video of her running and MJ laughing in the background.

pbp: HAHAHAHA

pbp: serves her right i think

littlewolverine: bet she wishes she had a you to come and save her. Remember when we were fifteen and u had to come get rid of the spider in my washroom at the hotel?

pbp: remember??? You think ive forgotten that? you were still wearing your swimsuit and i think i spent the rest of that trip thinking about that

littlewolverine: omg noooo why? That was not a cute look on me… dad bought that bikini for me without consultation lol

pbp: teenage boys are really horny howlett. you think im gonna be picky when that was maybe the closest id ever been to a semi naked girl at that point? nah. 

littlewolverine: wowww so you were only horny bc it could’ve been any girl??

littlewolverine: #blockedandreported

pbp: ok fine maybe it had something to do with you being the girl. 

littlewolverine: Sent a picture.

Peter opens the picture and blinks- you’re becoming way more confident at teasing him, he can tell, and he feels heat rushing from his face to his neck and even further below that. It’s just you, in the washroom mirror of the club, except- just for this private intimate moment captured in this picture- you’ve pulled down your dress, straps and all, so your top half is showing. You’re still wearing your bra, of course, but this is the most erotically charged picture from you that he’s ever gotten, and he’s not thinking clearly anymore, not when he can clearly see your cleavage. 

pbp: show more? Please?

littlewolverine: you can see it in person lol. 

pbp: noooo faaaaiiiir. are u gonna walk out of the washroom like that? do i have to be jealous of everyone in the club?

littlewolverine: no you dumbass. this is a private picture just for u and i already pulled my dress back up. 

pbp: im excited to pull it back down in person lol.

/

Unfortunately for Peter, the partying lasted until 2:00 AM, and by the time everyone made it back to the Villa, he was too tired to come sneak into your room and very possibly annihilate you with all this pent up lust he keeps feeling. 

So now it’s Thursday. July 20th. One day before the wedding, meant to be a chill day of planning and preparing.

But it’s the hottest day of the summer so far, apparently. Almost 35 degrees celsius, or 95 degrees fahrenheit, which is just horrible.

The air conditioning is on max- everyone is sitting around various parts of the house trying to fan themselves, and yet, it’s not enough. The sweaty, sticky feeling is palpable- most people have gone shirtless at this point. You swear you can see the heat waves emanating through the air.

You’re wearing a big tee-shirt, loose cotton shorts, and a cropped tank top underneath the shirt for some modesty. You’re very close to just taking off your shirt.

Your dad is really complaining. He’s shirtless and lying face down on the tiles. “Kid. Throw some ice cubes on me, will ya?”

“Uhhh… okay.” You peel yourself off the leather couch, your bare thighs sticking to the hot cushions, and walk towards the fridge in the kitchen. Every step feels like more heat is wafting towards you and sticking to you. 

Peter’s in the kitchen, and he’s putting his whole head inside a giant bowl of ice cold water. He sees you approaching and pulls his head out, water from his hair splashing over his bare upper body and the floor. 

“Don’t you dare-!” You shriek, but to no avail, because Peter picks you up and shakes his wet hair all over you, and now you’re covered in water too. 

“Isn’t that better, Howlett? You’re not as hot now, right?” Peter holds you close as you try to open the freezer for some ice. “Where are you going?”

“I’m trying to get away from you, you soaking wet monkey-” You dart under his arms and open the freezer. 

“You’d probably feel less hot if you took off your shirt.” Peter slyly attempts to say, and you roll your eyes at how transparent he can be. “Not that I can’t already see through your shirt. Nice neon-green tank you got on there.”

“Ugh!” You take out the ice tray and leave it on the counter. “Thanks, Peter.”

You pull off your now see-through top, and Peter cannot ignore the way you’re glowing, little water droplets attached to your already flushed, sweaty skin, on the little bare stripe of your stomach that the tank top reveals, and he gets this impossible urge to just lean in and kiss you especially because your mouth is just agape because of the heat, and he wants to take your mouth for his own pleasure.

He leans in, and you look up at him- and Peter traces back your hair, and he feels increasingly frustrated that he hasn’t planted one on you yet, (the last time, he recalls with some amusement, is when you were both nine, and he doesn’t think that really counts because you fell on top of him over a sandcastle)  so he pulls your face upwards and kisses you with a deep inhale, his lips gently-yet-firmly plying against your own, and it’s with immense satisfaction that Peter feels you kiss back, and he’s so glad he finally gets to know what it’s like to kiss you after fantasizing about it this whole week, and he feels that you’re so soft and sweet and he just wants to pull you further into his arms, and he’s just beginning to swirl his tongue against your own when he hears a very loud cough in the background.

You pull away sheepishly, your hair all dishevelled from Peter’s insistent hands, and grimace at your father. “Hey, dad…”

Logan takes the ice cubes that you apparently took to long to give to him, and starts rubbing them on his shoulders. His massive, muscular shoulders, Peter thinks with a gulp. 

“Hey, kid. Just leave the room for a bit. Me and Pete need to have a chat.” Logan states, and you immediately turn apprehensive.

“Wait- Dad- It’s not Peter’s fault, if you’re gonna yell at him- you gotta yell at me too!” You cross your arms, and Peter looks towards the ground, feeling much younger than his 26 years of age. “I’m an adult woman. You can’t just-”

Logan goes up-bup-bup-bup and silences you, pushing you out the kitchen door and shutting it. You sit down on the tiles in frustration, and try your best to listen through the door.

“Peter. C’mere.” Logan sits at one of the barstools, and Peter follows, feeling an ominous level of dread. “I’m not gonna kill you for laying one on my daughter- that’s still her choice, even if I question her taste.”

“Oh.”

“But I’m not letting you off so easy.” Logan stares at his hands, and thinks about how you spent quite literally years being depressed over Peter, even if you wouldn’t say as much. “Listen. Lettie might’ve forgiven you for whatever happened between the two of you- but that kid is my whole life. This is the first time in a long time I’ve actually seen her happy.”

Peter nods, unsure of what he could say to that.

“But this comes at a price, alright? She’s happy, yeah, but you have no idea how upset she was without you.” Logan sounds rather pissed off and Peter flinches. “I better not see you using her and then leaving her behind again. Because I will come after you for that, even if Lettie tries to save your ass.”

“I won’t do that.” Peter responds almost immediately. “I’m not saying I wasn’t an idiot back then, but I would never do that. I really- I love her a lot. I just didn’t know it before.”

Peter has to stop himself from looking at Logan’s taken back expression, but he is surprised to find that Logan claps his hand on his back.

“And she loves you. At least I think she does.” Logan admits, and Peter wonders if you’ll ever tell him that. “I’m just saying. Don’t be stupid with my daughter this time around.”

“Yes, sir.” Peter replies, and Logan shakes his hand, before opening the door again.

You’re leaning against it, and you fall back against the tiles, before pulling yourself up in a rush. 

“Dad? You didn’t beat him up?” You genuinely sound confused, and Peter starts laughing. 

“He’s all yours, kid.” Logan ruffles your head, and you immediately start pestering Peter to explain what that means as Logan walks away.

Peter enjoys how you blabber on at him about your confusion and why Logan seems so okay with the whole thing, not that he was ever going to forbid you from dating someone, but he has his moments of being protective, and Peter wonders what he could say to answer your questions, maybe he could really confess his love for you as he had just accidentally done with Logan- but he decides to just lean in and kiss you again. 

Maybe he’ll tell you later.