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songmingisthighs · 9 months ago

Text

Beefcake Raccoon

group : ateez

pairing : yeosang × reader (ft. boyfriend!jongho)

genre : smut

wc : 6.5 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut, unprotected sex, consensual sex, slight m × m (ofc between jongsang), fingering, cum tasting, dirty talk, cowgirl, creampie, mentions and description of jongho's junk, idk what else to tag here ngl

a/n : pt. 1 of an impulsive mini series with @bro-atz and @skteezcursed. pt. 2 and 3 will be added here once they drop! and yes, i call yeosang beefcake raccoon. how can i nawt when he looks like this ??? and yea i kinda went overboard with this because i had planned on writing 2.5-3k but here we are

a/a/n : it's 12.38 am and i'm sleepy and still sick as fuck and i had the sudden raging NEED to purchase all of the aniteez keyring. which i might do. idk if this is my manic episode making a comeback or me having impulse control issue

buy me coffee ?

beefcake raccoon | concrete bear | manwich

Yeosang isn't really one to butt into other people's business, not even when certain things affect him personally.

For example, he never really voiced out how much he didn't like the way Hongjoong would come into his room, steal his supplements, and just leave things a mess. Mind you, he has no problem with letting the older guy take a couple pills or tablets from what could only be described as a collector's mountain. Heck, he's a firm believer in sharing whatever they own especially with people Yeosang already thought of as family. He just didn't like the way Hongjoong tended to leave some of the bottles not properly screwed. He hates seeing things not properly screwed. So he would just take a breath and clean up after the captain.

Another example is when a tornado came barrelling in. And no, it's not a real tornado which would have probably been better. Yeosang didn't voice out his complaints when his best friend of almost a decade suddenly came by the dorm he shared with Yunho only to kick him out. "Yunho and I are in this small gaming tournament and we need to beat this son of a bitch," Wooyoung said as he set up his gaming stuff on the dining table with Yunho who stopped momentarily and furrowed his eyebrows at this frantic friend, "You do know punchpunch483 is 12 years old, right?" which resulted in Wooyoung glaring at him, "A punk is a punk no matter the age, I will not stand the disrespect that's why he and his guild are going down so deep in the ground he can say hi to his grandpa." At that point, Yeosang simply clocked out of the conversation, dejectedly resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to just watch his show in his bed and fall asleep to it.

There were some conflicts in Yeosang's brain, however. One good thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that he lives with a workaholic nomad and an introverted busybody. One bad thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that said dorm is often occupied by a girl Yeosang has a crush on and that girl is dating one of his other best friends.

Yeosang considers Jongho to be one of the luckiest men to be alive to be dating you. You, who in his mind is the most adorable sweetheart of a human being to have ever lived. It wasn't like you were the most polite person what with the names you can throw towards people you dislike and mutter towards rude strangers and the screeching laugh you sometimes let out when someone told you a stupid joke. Everything about you seemed so charming in Yeosang's eyes even when you were being touchy with the friend he was oh so jealous of. Sometimes Yeosang wonders, in his existential crisis-ridden thoughts at 3 am, the chances of the two of you being in the same lifetime. He wouldn't say that he was in love with you, but he wouldn't deny that he would often daydream about what it would be like to be with you, to be the one kissing you and to be the one getting back hugs from you. Well, he wouldn't deny it to himself.

So another good thing about Wooyoung's dorm is probably the fact that he could see and interact with you. But one other bad thing is the fact that sometimes he felt like Jongho knew how he thinks about you and that unnerves him. So he tends to avoid moments where you and Jongho are together because he can never seem to control the longing expression on his face and Jongho would always send him a knowing look and he knew one day he would just crack like an egg under hydraulic pressure.

It seemed like his resolve wasn't faring any better because when he first came by the dorm, he saw you on top of Jongho's lap on the couch, kissing him all over his face and whining. He knew he should at least expect to be met with you and Jongho being all over each other, but maybe not to this extent. The sound of him coming in didn't seem to deter either of you from your... Activities.

Whatever dirty thoughts passed Yeosang's head were almost immediately pushed away however when he saw Jongho pushing you away from him gently and sighing, "I told you I can't do this tonight," he said which earned him a scoff from you, "You've been saying that for the past four days, Jongho and frankly I'm starting to can't do it anymore," you said before pushing yourself off of your boyfriend completely. "That is not even grammatical," Jongho chuckled and you only flipped him off before turning to retire to Jongho's room only to pause when you saw Yeosang.

Yeosang's heart skipped a beat when he saw your frown turn into a bright smile, squealing and hugging him tightly. "Raccoon!" You called out happily. Yeosang never knew why, but you had seemed to start calling him 'beefcake raccoon'. Well, you did explain that it was because he was, in your own words, 'beefy' and his hair for his latest comeback made him look like a raccoon so in a sense, your logic did make sense. What doesn't seem to make sense is how you only call him and your boyfriend with adorable yet odd animal names. To you, Jongho was your concrete bear and Yeosang was your beefcake raccoon which pissed Wooyoung and San off but maybe that's because San is a jealous cat and Wooyoung wanted to be called foxy mama and you scolded them for being so relentless.

Despite his nerves, Yeosang grinned and hugged you back gently, not being able to stop himself from inhaling the scent of your shampoo and enjoying your warmth against his body. "Hi (y/n), is something wrong?" Yeosang asked as you both pulled away. At the mention of something wrong, your frown returned and you snapped your head to glare at your boyfriend who was still just sitting there, smiling innocently as if he hadn't denied you sex for four days straight. "Oh something is very wrong but it's with your buddy Choi Jongho over there. I'm starting to think he's no longer turned on by me or by any vagina-owning creature on earth," you hissed. "Okay you can't say things like that because some animals also own vaginas and I'm not into bestiality," Jongho scolded. At that moment, Yeosang thought he should just go to Wooyoung's room because he felt like he was being dragged into people's business and as fun as it is talking about kinks that could possibly lead him to know yours, he was not about to delve into this particular discussion. Luckily, you threw your arms up in the air and turned to him again, "Seriously Yeosang, if you were Jongho, would you choose vocal recording over sex?" Yeosang's eyes widened and he almost blurted out that he would never choose anything over you but thankfully Jongho beat him into answering you, "I'm telling you, Hongjoong hyung has been riding my ass with this new demo and you know how he is when inspiration struck," Jongho tried to reason. With a roll of your eyes you walked away to Jongho's room but not before yelling out, "Well, at least something's riding you, you cocky bastard!"

Jongho seemed unbothered, chuckling by himself as he watched your figure retreat. "You're not following her?" Yeosang asked, looking back and forth between the couple. Jongho simply shook his head, "Nah, she needs time to just... Cool off and I need to resist the temptation because Hongjoong hyung will be pissed if I come into the studio tired and hoarse," Yeosang nodded in understanding because he does understand what Jongho meant, having been on the receiving end of Hongjoong's wrath in the past for being, in Hongjoong's words, unprofessional, unprepared, and unremarkably disrespectful to people's time. But still, Yeosang felt bad for you and he didn't like seeing you pissed like that which was shown by the way he stared in the direction you went to for quite some time before he excused himself to rest in Woyooung's room, missing the way Jongho was staring at him knowingly with a smug smirk on his face.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeosang thought that his involvement in your relationship with Jongho would end that night but when he woke up at 7 am the next day, he was met with the sight of Jongho's door open and as he passed the room, he saw Jongho tucking you in and stroking your hair and taking particular focus in the way his friend's shoulder drop when he sighed in disappointment.

Feeling like Jongho could use a moment, Yeosang just quietly tiptoed to the kitchen and helped himself to Wooyoung's stash of good coffee and started brewing.

Soon enough, Jongho showed up and sat down on the stool of the kitchen counter while opening his phone to check his text message, waiting for the manager to inform him that the car had arrived. Wordlessly, Yeosang poured himself and also Jongho a cup of coffee each. Jongho quietly thanked his older friend before sipping his cup in a slightly slumped position.

"Are you okay?" Yeosang asked, sensing something. Jongho sighed and nodded, "I feel bad for (y/n) for denying her sex and it's not like I don't want to, but I'm just not in the position to considering the state I would be in would not be conducive for recording and I really don't want to deal with Hongjoong hyung getting pissy at me," he sighed. Not knowing what else to say, Yeosand decided that he should at least be polite in this situation, "That's rough man, anything I can do?"

That particular question seemed to have turn a switch in Jongho's head because one moment he had a mopey look on his face, and the next, it was pure intrigue.

"You know what, hyung, I think there is something you can do," he said, finishing his coffee and straightening up. Sensing Jongho's resolve genuinely changing, Yeosang raised an eyebrow, "Okay? What can I do?" "Do you think you can accompany (y/n) and make sure she has all her needs met?" Jongho asked. The prospect of spending the day with you made Yeosang's eyes blink faster and heart beat harder. "S-sure, I guess. I have no schedules today so I can take her to wherever she wants," he ensured, clearing his throat when he felt like his tone showcased how excited he was even if it was only sightly. Jongho raised his eyebrows and smirked, realizing that Yeosang hadn't caught his drift, "You'll take her wherever she wants? What about taking her... However she wants?" Still not getting it, Yeosang nodded slowly, "Yes? I'll... Do whatever it is you want me to do to help your girlfriend feel better?"

Jongho couldn't believe how adorably innocent Yeosang was being. Knowing him for years, Jongho realized how some things could easily go over Yeosang's head by no fault of his own. He was just never introduced to the more scandalous side of life and it wasn't like he sought out information either.

Yeosang stared at Jongho in confusion as the younger chuckled and stood up, "Yes, that's... Correct in a sense I guess," Jongho then rounded the kitchen counter to stand in front of Yeosang. Jongho's phone buzzed and he momentarily checked the message he received before shoving his phone into his pocket, "But just to make sure both you and (y/n) get my point," All of a sudden, Jongho pulled Yeosang by his shirt and planted his lips on the older guy. Yeosang's eyes widened and his hands gripped the counter to regain control of his body because the impact from Jongho's sudden attack suddenly sent him reeling.

Initially, Yesoang was sent into a panicked and confused state because what the hell was Jongho doing? Why was he kissing him? What if you woke up and saw your boyfriend and one of his best friends kissing?

Correction, making out.

Somehow Jongho had managed to slip his tongue into Yeosang's mouth and at first, Yeosang wanted to protest and push him away. Heck, he had already gotten a hand on Jongho's shoulder but for some reason, he melted slightly into Jongho and as fucked up as it is, his mind drifted to thoughts that he knew he shouldn't be having. Those thoughts were mainly in the area of 'this is the tongue that had caressed and tasted (y/n)' and it got him hard faster than he cared to admit. The thought of you helped relax Yeosang slightly and before he realized it, he was kissing Jongho back with the same fervor which made Jongho unknowingly smirk, pleased that Yeosang was responding to him.

It wasn't until Jongho felt his phone buzzed again that he pulled away, realizing that he had to go. He couldn't even hide the satisfied look on his face when he saw how flushed Yeosang was after their little makeout session. For sure, you were going to like things just as much as he did should things go according to his plan. "Please give that to (y/n)," Jongho said all too simply as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Still blear-eyed and slightly confused, Yeosang was trying hard to make his brain work. "W-what?" he managed out after he felt air filling back into his lungs. "Give that kiss to (y/n), the exact same way, please?" Jongho grinned, a little bit too happily.

Even with Jongho repeating himself, Yeosang was still trying to make sure of things, putting 2 and 2 was for him especially since he was practically mauled by Jongho. Seeing the state his friend was in, Jongho exhaled sharply and stood closer to Yeosang, "I am giving you full permission to do ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER it is my girlfriend wants you to do to satisfy her, okay? Starting with that kiss. Carte blanche, sky's your limit!" he then placed a hand on Yeosang's right shoulder and tilted his head, "Capische?" Just to make things more sexually confusing for Yeosang, Jongho smiled at him, showing off the gums that cleverly hid his perverted agenda.

"I- I- Capische, I guess?" Yeosang answered, kind of getting what Jongho expected off of him but also still in disbelief. "Awesome! Thanks hyung, I owe you this, I'll pay you back when I think of something, okay?" he said before leaving his friend with a pat on the chest and an extra squeeze that made Yeosang's eyes bulge out (and almost made him let out a sound but in fear of sounding like a car being honked, Yeosang somehow managed to keep the sound in. Things happened so fast all at once and it made him slightly dizzy. It was only 7 am and so many things already happened. Part of him thought that he was imagining things and that maybe he was still asleep and dreaming but he didn't even know where to justify himself dreaming about kissing his friend.

"Hey Sangie, what are you doing up so early?"

Yeosang snapped his focus back to reality at the sound of your voice but the blush returned to his cheeks when he saw you oh so casually walking your adorable self out of your boyfriend's room and trudging to sit down on one of the stools, right where your boyfriend had just set which effectively set his mind drifting to what had just happened.

"H-hey (y/n), morning! What are you doing up at 7 am?" he asked with nerves thickly laced in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows and checked the clock on your phone before showing him the screen, "Sangie, it's 8.24," you pointed out. Yeosang had stood alone in the kitchen, so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized that an hour had passed and that time had kept on going while he was making out with your boyfriend in the kitchen. So he turned his back on you after saying a simple 'oh', making it seem like he wasn't flustered by pouring you a cup of coffee before setting it in front of you and heading towards the couch to enjoy his now cold coffee.

For a moment, both you and he were silent, neither of you was sharing anything and just enjoying the silence and calmness of the atmosphere. Even when you moved to the couch when Yeosang turned the TV on, neither of you was conversing over anything substantial.

Well, until you brought up your boyfriend.

"Did Jongho say anything before he left this morning?"'

It was almost comical how Yeosang snapped his head in your direction and blinked twice. "I'm not quite sure but I think he mentioned Cate Blanchett?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, "The lady who played Thor's older sister?" "Yes?" "You sound unsure..." you pointed out, crossing your arms on your chest and turning to look at him fully, "Tell me what Jongho told you and I know he told you something," you pressed.

Now Yeosang found himself between a hard and awkward place. The hard place is between his legs and the awkward place is the position of having to tell you that your boyfriend had practically told him to service you, who is his secret crush, should you request for him to. So he kept stammering, trying to find a way to tell you what he needed to tell you while you stared at him, making him even more nervous than he already was.

"I- I- Well, you see,"

Yeosang sat up straighter and shuffled closer to you, prompting you to do the same.

"W- we- I, Jongho and I, he-"

God, he wasn't even this nervous at his audition and frankly it was starting to annoy you.

"Just spit it out!"

"Fuck it,"

Before you know it, Yeosang pressed his lips on yours, his body no longer at the end of the couch but hovering above you with arms caging your head. The impact caused you to let out a sound of surprise as you were not expecting Yeosang to jump on you like that. There was a nagging voice in the back of your head that was screaming for you to push him away but there was another voice that spoke louder than the former voice. That voice belonged to your boyfriend and it came from the memory you had from earlier in the morning when he woke you up to tell you that he felt bad for disappointing you for the past four days and he was going to make it up to you. Then your brain tried to connect that memory with the text message your boyfriend sent to you, stating that his apology gift has been set up and you can claim it from Yeosang. Was this it?

"Jongho," Yeosang panted as he shifted his lips from yours down to your chin and jaw, "Left you a kiss," your eyes rolled back when he took your earlobe between his teeth and started nibbling, "With me, and he wanted me to deliver it for you," he finished before reconnecting your lips once again. You moaned into his mouth when he slipped his tongue and allowed your own to battle his for dominance.

The kiss was electrifying, breath-taking, and cunt clenching. You couldn't help but spread your legs wider so Yeosang could push your body completely flat on the couch. At this point, his crotch made in contact with yours and you could feel from your short sleeping shorts and his own sweatpants that he was long and hard. Another moan was sent into his mouth and the feeling of vibration made Yeosang grind his crotch onto you, taking it as the perfect moment to let you know the other part of the message.

"A-also," you whined when Yeosang pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on yours, "Jongho wanted me to... Satisfy all of your needs, however you want, wherever you want."

Looking into his eyes, you saw how his pupils were blown and the flush on his face made your heart burn slightly, realizing that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him at that moment. You were not sure if it was because of how needy you were from being denied sex for almost a week or if your teeny tiny crush on your boyfriend's friend was forced to bloom due to the circumstances. Of course, the circumstances are the fact that your boyfriend had allowed his friend to kiss and fuck you should you want to.

"So, Jongho told you to just kiss me or did he specify that you had to kiss me like that?" you teased, starting to relax and opening yourself up for Yeosang who had dropped his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. "He... Left me a kiss but what I gave you is partially from him but mostly from me," he muttered before he dove down to attach his lips to your neck. As he began sucking the sensitive skin, your body reacted automatically to him, your hands curled on the base strands of his hair as your heels hooked on the backs of thighs, allowing his crotch to press closer to yours. "Fuck, is this your way of telling me that you've been wanting to fuck me?" you moaned when his teeth grazed against your jugular, causing your cunt to clench and your spine to tingle. At that point, you were sure that you were soaked but you couldn't be too sure because the warmth pressing on your crotch could Yeosang's body warmth. "No, this is me telling you I didn't like to see you so disappointed because Jongho, your boyfriend, has been denying you sex so I want to help you feel better." As he spoke, you felt his hands creep up to the waistband of your shorts and your breath hitched in both anticipation and excitement, wanting to see just how much you both could go with the fact that you've already gotten your boyfriend's approval in the bag. Toying with the band whilst simultaneously teasing the skin underneath, Yeosang looked up at you with eyes full of hope and desire, "Can I help you feel better?"

It didn't take you long to nod, giving him the confirmation to proceed which he happily obliged by pulling your bottoms so hard he ripped your panties slightly. Yeosang misunderstood the widening of your eyes as a bad thing and he immediately cringed, apologizing profusely as he told you he felt bad and that he would buy you a new pair. So it surprised him when you pulled his face up and hungrily kissed him. "That was so hot, Yeosang, I'm totally okay with that," you said breathlessly, starting to grind your now bare cunt onto his crotch, delighting yourself at the feeling of something hard pushing back against your needy clit. "Jongho has been the only person to be able to do that and fuck did he make such a good decision entrusting you," you whimpered, pulling on Yeosang's bottom lip needily.

Hearing the way you talked about him made Yeosang's heart soar and he suddenly felt the need to show you just how much exactly he had been thinking about you and pleasing you. Confidently, Yeosang pressed two of his fingers against your pussy, effectively trapping your clit between his two digits. His eyes never left your face, enjoying the ecstasy-ridden look on your face as you threw your head back whilst a high-pitched gasp escaped your lips. Wanting to see that expression again, Yeosang began massaging your clit between his two fingers whilst adding more stimulation by moving his fingers up and down. The pleasure was starting to build in you slowly but surely, adding the fact that it was Yesoang who was giving you pleasure and your mind was sent to a pleasure-induced haze. Had it not been for Yeosang's body between your legs, you would have successfully clamped your legs shut.

A shaky breath left Yeosang's lips when he noticed you reacting positively towards his ministration. To the people who would not understand, they would say Yeosang was weird for reading into your reaction so much but how can Yeosang start to describe how much he loved seeing the way your hips rolled onto his hands? Seeing you seeking more of his touch was a whole other level of satisfaction that Yeosang never even knew existed until he saw it with his own eyes. Between your face and glistening cunt, Yeosang couldn't choose which part he liked best. Then again, he had yet to have the chance to feel his aching cock nesting inside your core so he'd have to reserve his decision for after you came on him.

The dynamic of your expression was beyond anything Yeosang could explain because once his fingers slipped inside you, your face contorted to showcase even more of your ecstasy. "You like that, princess?" Yeosang teased as he curled his fingers inside you, caressing the sensitive walls ever so gently that caused your cunt to leak more arousal and your body to shake from the pleasure. "Fuck yes, I do! Jongho, God bless his physique, is chunky and big but so is his fingers but you, Yeosang- Fuck! You and your damn long fingers are reaching so deep inside me- fuck!" you whined, hips rising as Yeosang's finger pulled all the way out only to slam them back in, revelling in how slick you were when they felt your juices staining his palm. "Long, huh? So... Why do you call me a beefcake?" Yeosang teased, lowering himself closer to your cunt which surprisingly made you a bit shy as seen from the way you tried to close your legs. Of course, Yeosang wouldn't let that happen so he used his upper body strength and directed it to his palms, forcing your legs to stay open and not even caring that your stream of slick was trickling down on the couch. "Excuse you, Yeosang, you're not just a beefcake, you're MY beefcake raccoon," you scoffed as you maintained eye contact with Yeosang in faux confidence, oblivious that your stance was being betrayed by your quivering pupils and blush. "Yours, huh? Is that what I am?" Yeosang tried to bite back the grin on his lips as best he could but it was futile as he couldn't even hide the way his hips grind onto your shin when he heard you referring to him as yours. "I don't know about you but fuck, I love the sound of that," he said shakily before diving down to lick a fat stripe from your drenched hole up to nibble on your clit.

That was the last straw. The teasing, the sexual frustration, and seeing Yeosang between your legs had fucked up your brain so much that all you wanted was him.

Sitting up slightly, you somehow managed to pull Yeosang up by the collar of his shirt and push him so he was the one on his back. The frantic movement of your hands pulling Yeosang's sweatpants and underwear paired with the manic, almost crazed look on your face was absolutely thrilling. "I need you inside me Yeosang, please, I want you to fill me up with cock and cum so bad, I need it now!" you whimpered, pussy drenching the fabric of his thigh so embarrassingly bad that it caused Yeosang's cock to twitch as it was released from its confines.

"Use me then, after all, that's why I'm here."

It was the last confirmation you need before you all too easily slip his cock inside of your cunt. For a moment, the both of you only revelled at the feeling of each other for the first time. Yesoang was enjoying how warm you were and how much he liked the sharp contrast between the cool air and your warm core, the sudden change forced the air to be knocked out of his lungs and his eyes to roll to the back of his head. You, on the other hand, were struggling with the fact that Yeosang was reaching inside you so deep that your legs were starting to shake. As crude as it seemed, your immediate reaction was to notice the difference between him and Jongho. It wasn't like you were ranking or making a pros and cons list in your head, you were just noticing how different they pleasured you. Jongho was definitely shorter but girthier, it was always a struggle to take him in as he filled you up almost immediately and even once you got used to the feeling of fullness, you still struggled to move your own body so usually, Jongho would do the work. But Yeosang, he was slimmer but definitely longer, something you didn't take into consideration on the first impact as once he was sheathed inside of you completely, you felt his tip kissing your cervix and it was a new feeling that you had yet to be accustomed to. Whether it was due to his size or the pool you had created down there, you found yourself able to move on your own a lot easier and that made your brain go fuzzy.

Once you both got used to the novelty of feeling each other so intimately, you began fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock. Right off the bat, you were moving so vigorously and Yeosang could only stare with a slacked jaw. "Fuck, Yeosang your cock is hitting me so deep!" you whined, throwing your head back from the feeling and clenching down on him. Yeosang never had much of a comparison material as he was never one to seek out physical relations so often. But even then he knew that the level of pleasure he was experiencing was only achievable because he was getting it from you. Yeosang had to grip your hips to ground him back to reality because he was sure that if he hadn't, he would've definitely thought that he was dreaming. But the feeling of you grounding yourself on top of him was surely something his brain couldn't manipulate no matter how much he tried. And when you changed you changed your position, his brain went haywire. You initially had your knees on either side of his hips and the sight of you rubbing your needy cunt on him was something he could never forget. But then you paused to prop your legs by bending your knees and leaning back with your hands on his muscular thighs. The feeling of Yeosang's flexing muscles beneath your fingers honestly made your cunt clench and weep slightly and Yeosang couldn't help but take note of it.

The very moment you got settled in your new position, you immediately started bouncing yourself on top of Yeosang, impaling yourself multiple times on his cock. If your rhythm was vigorous before, this was... Maniacal. You were jackhammering yourself like a crazed person trying to seek relief. As sick as it was, for some reason, Yeosang loved the way you were basically using his cock for your own release as if he was a toy that you oh so graciously choose to relieve the building ache and need from being denied by your own boyfriend. Your stamina was proof of your desperate need to get sexual release and the way you showcased it could only be described by him as an art performance. "Shit, you're so hot," Yeosang hissed on a particular snap of your hips, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before his right hand travelled up to your (Jongho's) shirt and grabbing the bottom as he pulled them up to reveal your torso, "Bite this for me please, baby, I wanna see your body, I NEED to see your body," he whimpered, his finger caressing your chin as he tuck the bottom part of your shirt between your teeth. You bit back a grin when he called you baby, feeling giddy all of a sudden but you tried to play it cool. He let out a shuddered breath when he noticed you weren't wearing any bra and frankly, he couldn't help but think about how lucky Jongho was to be able to feel you pressing up to him every night if he wanted to. You moaned and clenched down on him, "Fuck, I didn't peg you for a tits man, Yeosang," you teased but took a moment to tweak your left nipple, "Do you like my tits?" you asked, purposefully moaning and rolling your hips. "No," he huffed as he placed his right hand on your crotch, thumb pressed on your clit which caused you to jolt slightly "I like you," he smirked cheekily.

The confession was rather surprising but you noticed it made your stomach to flutter. Egged by his profession, you started fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock again, this time, the stimulation from his thumb on your clit made your movements harsher but messier. Neither of you could speak clearly, not that you wanted to, you were enjoying the sounds Yeosang was making and he was in a trance as he stared at the way your pussy was swallowing his cock whole. "Greedy baby," he hissed, finally finding the ability to snap his hips back to meet yours, "Taking my cock so good, making sure I'd remember your pussy always." The impact from his hips successfully made your footing falter as you found your right leg slipping and your body tumbling forward, your bare chest met Yeosang's clothed one.

"Fuck me, you got some talented hips there," you giggled, immediately adjusting your thrusts to the new position and enjoying the friction of his shirt on your tits. Moaning, Yeosang held you tight with one arm as the one that was on your clit moved to his face, "Nothing you couldn't escape from your beefcake raccoon, right?" he smirked while licking your arousal clean from his fingers.

With a sharp exhale from you, you planted your lips back onto him, tasting yourself on his tongue before moving your hips even faster. You were thankful that your boyfriend had forced you to ride his thighs so much that you had somehow gained the core strength to ride Yeosang like a champion. "Y-Yeosang, fuck- I'm close!" you whimpered against his mouth, your movements getting sloppy as the tension in your cunt increased, now trying its best to reach climax. Yeosang nodded at your admission, hands moving to hold you by your thighs so that you would still be wide open for him. "I'll make you cum, (y/n), don't worry," he pecked your lips before dropping his forehead on your shoulder, "I'll make sure you're satisfied."

Your hands found purchase on the armrest behind Yeosang and on his shoulder, trying to hold onto your sanity that was being torn apart by each thrust Yeosang delivered. Your head fell slack and your eyebrows furrowed as you felt your climax at the tip of your tongue. Yeosang was trying his best to get you to cum and with the way your walls were hugging him in a vice, he knew it wouldn't take long to push you over the edge. "Y-yeosang!" you whined, your hips now stilling as you reached your climax with a shake of your body from how intense it felt. Yeosang held your legs open for him and his hips never stopped, allowing you to ride out your high while also trying to reach his own.

Though you were induced into a pleasure state, you were still thinking about Yeosang and fuck if there was not one thing in your mind.

"In me, Yeosang, finish in me! I need to be filled!" You managed out, practically begging to be stuffed as how your boyfriend usually would. Though it was Yeosang fucking you, you couldn't help but let the thought of both he and Jongho filling you up with their cum flash through. The mere thought sent shivers down your spine and your hips to suddenly roll.

Yeosang was trying his best to not lose control because Jongho hadn't said anything about allowing him to cum inside you. "A-are you su-re, (y/n)? I can just- fuck, I can just jerk myself off," he assured you. But you whined and started peppering kisses along his jawline, "Please fill me up, Yeosang, you said you- ah! You had to please me, right?" you pouted.

A grunt rumbled through Yeosang's chest and without much complaint, he began thrusting into you in shorter but more precise movements. The overstimulation was trying to get you but you tried your best to hold on by distracting yourself. Your left hand found purchase on Yeosang's right peck and your fingers automatically squeeze the soft flesh and your fingers toy the stiff peaks with each movement.

As it turns out, that seemed to set off Yeosang because suddenly he held your body flush against him and you felt his cum filling you up in spurts as his cock twitched inside you. The sensation made you let out a low hum and your head rolled to nest on the crook of Yeosang's neck.

For a moment, you both could only lay there, resting on each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your haze was dwindling down into a daydream and your body was adjusting so you could rest after the session you just had. Though you had Yeosang under you, you couldn't help but think of your boyfriend and how after this, you're going to need to thank him. But when Yeosang readjusted his position so that his head was resting against the armrest and your head was on his pecks, your thoughts shifted. You propped your arms on Yeosang's chest and your chin on them, smiling up at him, "What got you grinning?" Yeosang asked but he was returning your smile with his. You shrugged, "Not sure, maybe it was post-orgasm bliss," and you wanted to add that it could also be the fact that he had just confessed that he liked you in the middle of sex but you didn't want to make things awkward so you kept that little jewel to yourself.

"So," Yeosang cleared his throat, "Are you feeling happy and satisfied now?" he asked, suddenly remembering the task his friend had given him. You pursed your lips, momentarily thinking of an answer before a mischievous glint past your eyes. "I think... Not quite," you replied, your legs suddenly caging Yeosang's hips which effectively rubbed his softened cock the right way as seen from the way it was starting to twitch back to life. Taking the hint, Yeosang's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip in hunger.

"Well, I did promise your boyfriend that I would do anything to make you happy, didn't I? We'll just have to keep doing it until you're completely... Satisfied."

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

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@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread

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silverzoomies · 1 year ago

Text

Monster Mash

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, smut, kissing, porn with plot, halloween, zombies, biting, undead, undead!reader, gender neutral reader, zombie kink

word count: 11,996

a/n: first of three peter-centric halloween fics!! hopefully i'll get them all posted before the month ends!! timeline here is extremely fuzzy, and might not fall in line with canon. it's kind of super ambiguous.

the usual apologies: clunky writing, potentially ooc peter/other characters, inconsistencies, ending's super meh, etc etc etc. idk if peter would realistically be down to bang a cute, zombified reader. but hey, it's fiction. why the heck not!

tag list (i remembered this time!!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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October. Just a week before Halloween.

Peter didn’t celebrate the holiday too often these days. Not like he used to. Ever since he took up teaching at the X-mansion, he only participated in a handful of Halloween activities. The staple being - playing escort for mutant kiddos on trick-or-treating ventures. An activity he enjoyed a lot, since the kiddos referred to “Mr. Maximoff” as “the school's most awesome trick-or-treat buddy.” Which had nothing to do with Peter swiping a little extra candy - for the kids, of course - when the other teachers weren’t looking. Swear on his life.

Another Halloween festivity he loved? The school's annual, X-family Halloween party. The team generally left Peter in charge of decorations, considering it took him no time at all to set them up. Professor Chuck himself - legendary baldy - always played host at those parties. As per tradition - after the party died down - Peter cozied up in the living room with the team. They’d gather together to watch everyone’s favorite horror flicks on VHS.

He really couldn’t wait for this year’s festivities. Peter looked forward to those after-party, horror movie marathons every year. Movie nights with the team? Pretty freakin’ awesome. If only for two reasons: The abundance of sugary garbage to snack on. And the way Ororo loooooooved snuggling up with him on the couch. Being so hot natured helped. Living life in the fast lane - operating like a human furnace - sure had its perks sometimes. ‘Ro’s cuddling made an excellent distraction from Peter’s unbridled loneliness. Haha...

C-...Consider that a topic for another day. Moving on.

On horror movie night, Peter inevitably saw the jumpscares coming leagues before anyone else. It never failed. He’d call them seconds ahead of time. With ‘Ro lying at his side, and his arm wrapped around her waist. Peter would exclaim, “Jumpscare!”, breaking the tension heavy silence amongst the group. Spoiling whatever movie played. Everyone hated it, of course. Kurt growled at him. Animalistic, but nowhere near intimidating. Jubilee pelted Peter with popcorn.

Peter just couldn’t help himself. Those scares were so predictable and boring sometimes. Sure, he liked horror movies enough. With all the gnarly gore and twisted kills. But they never freaked him out, since he didn’t spook easily. His incomprehensible reaction time made terror a tough game.

All that being said...

Even with his totally outrageous bravery streak, Peter - guilty as charged - sure had his candy-ass moments.

This current mission proved, without a doubt, one of the spookiest situations he’d ever landed himself in. He could feel it in the air tonight. And not in the groovy, Phil Collins way either. An ominous sense of uneasiness crawled across his skin. Eerie vibes sent chills creeping up his spine like spiders through a web. Peter wished he could fast forward to Halloween night on the couch with ‘Ro. Heck, he'd even take decorating duty over this any day of the week. At least he could go all out, and have his own fun with it.

For an October’s night, the weather seemed uncannily coincidental. Drops of rain showered from a mass of black clouds. A sharp crack of lightning struck the ground, with a roar of thunder following in succession. It rattled the very foundation of the abandoned lab Peter found himself exploring. As part of a last minute, late night mission.

Below his feet, tiled floors laid in disrepair. Dirtying the mismatched laces of his untied sneakers. Peter snuck his way through murky hallways, his heightened senses buzzing on edge. Fight or flight kicked into high gear, making him all the more sensitive to any outside stimuli. Another echoing roar rumbled through the building, threatening to topple its cracking walls. Peter worried the ceiling might cave in at any moment.

A terrifying thought. But it happened to be the exact reason Hank chose Peter for this mission to begin with. Should shit hit the fan, Peter could skedaddle at the speed of light unscathed. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Unlike his other team members, who might risk being flattened like a pancake. Under the weight of, not one, but two floors above.

…Speaking of pancakes. Peter should definitely drop by a mom ‘n pop diner before heading back to base. He could really go for a fresh stack of late night hotcakes right about now. Warm and soft. With chocolate chips melting on the inside. Caked in sticky syrup and slathered with butter. Oooooh! And a little bacon on the side. Not too crispy, not too flop-

His mouth watered, and Peter blinked. Wiping his jacket sleeve across his lips, he redirected his attention to the task at hand. Focus, Quickie. He had a job to do, and he didn’t wanna be stuck doing said job all night.

The lab sat nestled off the coast of some island with a foreign name. Super hard to pronounce. Peter couldn’t remember it off the top of his head. Prior to this assignment, he’d never even heard of the place. But apparently, neither had anyone else. Hank sent Peter in search of what he dubbed leads on a mystery project. Something to do with scientific documents.

If he found any, he’d read their info over to Scott. Who would then relay that same intel back to Hank. Like an insanely boring game of telephone. Why Peter couldn’t speak to Hank directly was anybody’s guess. Too busy with his super secret project thingy-majig, possibly?

Hanging from Peter’s stereo belt alongside his old Walkman, a walkie screeched with a shrill chirp. A shock of alarm shot straight through Peter’s veins, making him jump. Scott’s voice crackled from the speakers.

“Any updates, Pete?” Scott asked, “Tell me anything you got. Even if it seems boring. Just hit me with it. It’s gotta be better than waiting around here in the lab, doing nothing.”

Peter held a compact flashlight in one hand, searching the lab’s pitch black halls. Most of the rooms he passed looked desolate. Barren and dusty. Save for the odd desk or empty cabinet. Peter wondered if they’d all been ransacked when the place closed down. The ceiling leaked rain from the floors above, dripping onto Peter’s bomber jacket. At the edge of his vision, he caught a rat scurrying by. But otherwise, not much else.

Pulling the walkie from his belt, he brought it up to his lips, “Uh. It’s dark and kinda spooky here. Saw a rat. Storm’s not gettin’ any better. It keeps shakin’ the whole place.” Peter shook his head, “If it doesn’t let up, I’m gonna have to split. Don’t wanna wait around to see what happens next, y’know? Over."

On the other end of the line, Scott breathed an annoyed sigh. Even through low-quality speaker fuzz, Peter could tell the sigh lacked any real spite.

“Peter. We’ve been over this. We aren’t using decades old, two-way radio communication. You really don’t have to say over. ”

Peter drummed his free hand on an empty desk. Following the beat of Sweet Poison by Naked Eyes, as it played from the only earbud he wore. He wanted to keep one ear open, just to hear Scott clearly. And mayhaps because he felt the teensy weensiest bit paranoid by his lonesome in the lab.

“Copy that. Over.” He grinned to himself.

The further Peter explored the lab’s halls, thick layers of mucky green seemed to take over. If he had to guess, he assumed Hank didn’t consider masses of moss “key intel.” Every few feet Peter stepped, he tore his way through another wall of cobwebs. Lots and lots of creepy cobwebs. Reduced to undying boredom, Peter took to karate chopping them. Might as well have fun in the face of ennui.

Half second flickers of lightning cast the lab in gleaming flashes. Bringing Peter’s attention to more rooms he missed. He wandered through some old offices. Or what he thought were offices, anyway. The trashed state of the rooms made it hard to tell. Nothing within them had withstood the test of time. Peter even tried poking around with some clunky computers. No luck. Dead as doornails.

“Found some computers. C64’s, I think. Haven’t seen one ‘a these bad boys since forever ago. But they’re totally busted.” Peter reported into the walkie, banging a fist onto one of the computers, “Yep. Busted. Over.”

Before leaving the room, Peter fucked around. Knocking over a computer monitor for no reason at all. He snatched a few, grubby pens from a lone desk. As well as a cracked coffee mug that read “I try to tell chemistry jokes, but there’s no reaction.” Just for the heck of it. Why not swipe some keepsakes, eh?

After what felt like a geological age of scouring, Peter eventually stumbled upon more filing cabinets. Stuffed to the brim with research documents and science-y records. Sighing, he pulled each drawer open one by one. Peter read the dusty files, sharing intel with Scott over the walkie. For every document Scott dismissed, Peter tossed them carelessly aside over his shoulder.

Antsy to wrap the mission up, grab some pancakes, and race home for a game of GoldenEye; Peter rushed through the last few folders. In hopes of finding whatever specific file Hank needed. But upon the last one, Scott broke some totally bogus news.

“Sorry about this.” Scott sighed, “Those files? Yeah. Hank says they’re all duds. No dice. You think it’s safe to keep looking? You might have to check the second floor.” He mentioned, to Peter’s dismay.

Peter bumped his head into the filing cabinet, groaning aloud. With a kick of his foot, he closed the last drawer and trudged onward. Oh well. The speedster could totally manage. At least he brought mix-tapes to keep his mind occupied. Along with extra tapes stashed in his belt pockets for good measure. Without music, he’d be so outrageously miserable on a mission like this.

Shining the dinky flashlight, he scanned the first floor area one more time. Just to be sure. The flashlight’s glow passed a set of double doors, leading to-

Wait. Back it up a sec. Double doors? Quietly singing New Order’s Blue Monday to himself, Peter moonwalked backwards to observe the doors again. Knitting his brows, he blinked. Stumped.

“Yo. Scotty. Got another room on the first floor. Gonna check it out real quick. Over.” Peter reported, clicking the walkie into place on his belt.

Another echo of thunder rattled through the lab, shaking the floors above. Lightning illuminated the halls in temporary flickers of white. Peter stared at the large set of doors, totally bamboozled. He couldn’t comprehend how he missed them before. When he knew for a fact he checked every nook and cranny. Inching closer, he eyed a sign pasted on one of the doors. In a rough scratch of permanent marker, the sign read:

Reanimation experiments in progress. Do not disturb!!

Reanimation? What, like…of the dead? Pfffbt. No way! Could this spooky place get any spookier? Peter swallowed an uncomfortable wedge in his throat. Shaking off any chills threatening to overtake him, he shined his flashlight through one of the door’s windows. Peter scanned the area for anything useful.

Inside, he clocked an operating table. Close to that, a lone cart cluttered with rusty, surgical tools. Cracked computer screens lined one of the walls, more advanced than they should’ve been. At least for the era they originated. Tangled cables ran along the floor, leading to something in the shadows. Peter couldn’t make it out.

He arched a brow, finally locking his sights on - Aha! Jackpot! More filing cabinets. Hopefully, they held his ticket out of this creepy place. Fingers crossed. Peter burst into the room in a flash, kicking up dust in his wake. Tearing through another wall of cobwebs, he surveyed the area again. Making a mental note of every cabinet he could see. Enough to keep him busy for the next hour, he guessed. Peter slumped his shoulders, huffing an aggravated groan.

Talking to Scott through the entire process made it more bearable. Being so no nonsense and straight forward, Scott had no problem retaining the info Peter shared from every file. Which saved the speedster any hassle of repeating himself, or having to explain things he didn’t understand. Science? Not really Peter's area of expertise. He thought himself more of a tech, or music guy.

Luckily enough, Peter found whatever documents Hank sent him after. A deep dive into every folder, in every drawer, in about a dozen different cabinets were all it took. Had Peter aged another thirty years? He sure as hell felt like it. No sweat! Mission accomplished. Time to bid the old lab goodbye.

Peter flew through the rest of the cabinets in less than a second’s time. Triple checking for any intel Hank might find compelling. He skimmed some records documenting the “reanimation of dead tissue.” Hm. Actually, blue beastie might potentially find that fascinating. “Reanimation” of the dead didn’t exactly sound too commonplace in modern science, did it?

In a folder, Peter discovered a file. Clipped with a photograph of - hellllllllooooo there! Someone…kinda cute. Very cute. Peter whistled, piercing the quiet thrum of distant rain. He read on.

Oh. The cute someone. They died. Tragically perished. Hit by a car back in the 80’s. What a bummer. One of the scientist's brought them to the lab as a test subject. Used for some twisted experiment in reanimation. The kicker? They proved to be the lab’s first and only successful trial run. Of around fifty different, reanimation trials. Yikes. That's...a lotta dead bodies.

These scientists successfully revived the dead? Peter doubted it. Over a decade had passed since then, and no one ever used the technology mentioned in the files. This lab's research couldn’t be as successful as they documented. Or something must've gone wrong, for them to give up and shut down the lab's operation completely.

Yeah. Treating human corpses like science fair projects for school? Super warped. Hank, wacky in his science ventures, totally found macabre shit like that interesting. Shrugging, Peter tucked the manilla folders he gathered under an arm. He grabbed his walkie, and reported to Scott.

“I got somethin’ else Hank might be into. It's totally messed up, he'll love it. But-uh…if that’s all he needed? I’m gonna jet now, ‘kay? I can’t take another minute in this scary ass place. Over and out.”

Before making his leave, Peter glanced around the room one last time. He appeared near the operating table in a picosecond, his brown eyes scanning the cart next to it. Curiously, Peter picked through some rusty, surgical tools.

Upon finding a scalpel in fairly okay condition, he swiped the tool and slipped it inside his back pocket. Whistling to Oingo Boingo's No One Lives Forever - in hindsight, kind of ironic - playing from his Walkman, Peter raised a foot to kick the cart. Watching it roll away into a nearby wall. Hasta la vista.

As Peter steered away from the operating table, a monstrous shadow loomed at the edge of his vision. His heart rampantly pounded in his chest, his senses still high strung. Jumping back with a terrified gasp, Peter climbed halfway onto the operating table. He fumbled for his flashlight, pointing the glow at the massive bundle of darkness. The light shook in Peter’s trembling hand.

But it-...oh. Phew! Nothing to be afraid of. Hah. What the heck was Peter gettin’ riled up for?

Like something straight out of science fiction, Peter’s shadowy monster proved nothing more than a giant pod. He squinted, moving towards it until close enough to observe it more clearly. The tech appeared big enough to hold a person of his size. Or, hell, maybe even someone of Beast’s size. Peter ran a hand along the surface of the pod, gathering a layer of dust on his fingertips. Scowling, he shuddered, wiping the dust on his jeans. “ EUGH! Eck-” Peter exclaimed to no one, “What’s up with this dusty, old thing??” Glass encased the outer layer of the large machine. It might've been see-through, if not for the unsanitary grime blanketing the entire thing. Years upon years of soot build up. Peter tried wiping the dust away with his elbow, to no avail. He couldn’t see inside, even with the aid of his flashlight.

Puzzled, Peter darted around the room in a silver blur, searching for clues. A switch of some kind? A secret code? He tampered with everything from the cracked monitors on the wall, to the colorful cables lining the floor. Peter even tried prying the pod open with a rusty hammer he found. Still, it refused to budge. Even with the power of speedster strength. Was it made of adamantium or something?

Sighing, defeated, Peter tossed the hammer away. It crashed into one of the screens hanging against the wall. Shattering the crystal display upon impact. Whoops. Oh well. How much more damage could be done to the place? Not like anyone would be making renovations anytime soon. Not in the middle of buttfuck nowhere island.

Making an accidental misstep, Peter slipped on his untied shoelaces. His ankle entangled itself in a circle of cables on the floor, and he lost his balance. Tripping, Peter stumbled backwards into some busted machinery, knocking his head. His back collided with the hard, metal surface behind him.

“ Auuugh. Shit.” Peter muttered. He didn’t understand how he could be so goddamn clumsy all the time, given - what the professor called - his mutant gift, “Ow. Dammit.”

He must have triggered a switch when he tripped. Suddenly, a loud hiss seethed through the air like a bus braking to a stop. A slow moving cloud of smoke rose from inside the pod. As it spread, filling the room, the fumes turned radioactive neon in color. It swarmed Peter’s nostrils, overflowing his senses with an earthy scent.

“Uhhh…uh oh.” He mumbled, “Is that supposed to happen?” Acting in haste, Peter scrambled to free his ankle from the cable’s tight grip.

A corpse reanimation research lab.

Nope. Noooope. He’d seen Return of the Living Dead enough times to know - whatever the hell’s happening now? Bad news. Couldn’t be good. Peter suppressed the urge to scream like a frightened child. A buzzing voice chimed from his walkie, startling him further. Dammit all, Scotty! He almost sent Peter into cardiac arrest for a hot second.

“Peter? Hey-uh, are you there? You alright? You didn’t stop somewhere for pancakes again, did you?” Scott crackled through the walkie, but Peter didn’t respond, “Better bring enough back for the whole class.” He joked, sarcastic.

Peter gawked at the sight before him in a mix of horror and confusion. Completely petrified, as Oingo Boingo played through his ear. The neon smoke emitted from the pod began to clear, revealing a body inside. A dead body.

Your dead body, to be specific.

Somehow, Peter recognized you. But that didn’t make any sense at all. He knew for a freakin’ fact he’d never seen or met you a day in his life. Unless… oh. Oh, holy shit. He hurriedly grabbed the extra folder he’d taken and opened it, just to glance between you, and the photo inside. And sure enough… The first and only successful trial run in reanimation.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Peter’s eyes blew open wide. His stomach dropped twenty thousand feet through the ground, plummeting to the Earth’s core. Swallowing thickly, he observed your slumbering body from his position on the dirty floor.

Your skin appeared ashier than it naturally should be. Y’know, on account of being dead and all. It more closely resembled a subdued, greenish color. Kinda Frankenstein-esc. Stitches lined each and every one of your limbs. As if some psycho nut job took you apart and sewed you back together again. Judging by the info in your file, they probably did. Embedded into your neck, were two bolts on either side. Also very Frankenstein-esc. You reminded him of a wax dummy on the set of some low-budget, horror flick. It’d be kinda funny, if he didn’t feel seconds away from screaming in horror.

You could be a dummy, if Peter had any luck. Yeah. This mission? Surely just a super elaborate prank set up by the team. Like a haunted house tour, made to scare the silver pants off him. Those sly dogs think they’re so slick, huh? ...R-Right?

Peter took a deep breath, keeping his terrified gaze fixed on you. In his ear, the funky tune came to an end. The lab fell into a deafening silence. Only broken by the faintest pitter patter of rain, and a quiet clamor of thunder now echoing at a distance. Signaling the passing of the storm. One less thing to worry about.

Though, he’d much rather agonize over a building’s foundation crumbling. He could handle a weather-related disaster wayyy better than a zombie coming to life, to - potentially - gorge on his flesh.

Raising his flashlight, he pointed the glow at your lifeless body. Again, Peter breathed a long sigh to ease his panic stricken nerves. An interference of crackling static ripped through the walkie then. Loud, and shrill enough to cut glass. At that very moment, your eyes - once locked in eternal slumber - popped open freakishly wide.

Oh. Oh hellllll no. Fuck that. Fuuuuck that.

Peter’s hunch proved totally right. You weren’t just dead. You were undead.

“ Mmmmmm nope.” Peter mumbled to himself, swiftly shaking his head, “Nuh uh. Nope.”

Shaking with adrenaline, he glanced between your dead-eyed gaze, and his trapped foot. Okay! No problem-o! Not a problem at all. For an X-Man, zombies made an easy foe, right? Peter could totally just-...

Just vamoose! Make a break for it! Right now!

Like, now.

Peter hadn’t run away yet. Why hadn’t he run away? Hellllloooo? Ground control to Quickie! Time to make a quick exit, and head for the hills. Lest he become zombie chow.

Stunned, Peter remained petrified. In an uncannily slow movement, you rose from the pod like Nosferatu out of a coffin. Peter cursed under his breath, willing his terror to take a one way ticket outta there. He needed to come to his senses, and fast. Even as Peter tried to move, his paralyzed state caused him to fumble again. His movements lacked their natural fluidity, and his blood ran cold.

Like a total doofus, in his failed attempt to escape, Peter tangled his foot even deeper through the cables. Sometime in the last thirty seconds or so, he dropped his flashlight. Within the inky darkness, he could barely make out your shape as you moved. You groaned a long, croaky sound. Guttural, like an eldritch abomination.

Another crash of lightning showered your living corpse in a white luster. Peter made direct eye contact with you. A gaze between life and death.

A yell vibrated through his lungs and bounced off the walls of the room, as Peter finally screamed. Your slow moving, zombified body climbed from the pod much like a spider. Stumbling at first, you connected your bare feet with the dirty, tiled floor. Once you found your balance, a cracking sound erupted from your limbs. Your bones clicked and popped audibly into place. Peter scowled, physically cringing.

Another scream tore from the depths of his chest, “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” He shouted.

You dragged your feet in a limp, moving towards Peter with a slow gait. Stitched arms reached out for him in an unhurried motion, “ Luhhhhhhhh- ” You choked on a groggy gurgle.

Fuck. Fucking shit fuck. You definitely wanted to feast on his juicy brains and smooth flesh. No denying that. It had been, like, a decade since you last ate anything. And Peter probably looked like one hell of a snack right about now. Not even in a totally kinky way.

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! Hold yer horses there, baby! Yer gettin’ a liiiitttle too close fer comfort now! C’mon, huh? Do you really think I’m on the menu? ‘Cuz trust me. If yer gonna eat somebody? I shouldn’t be yer first choice! I really don’t taste all that great!” Peter yelled, throwing a hand out momentarily before returning to the tangled cables. He huffed an uneasy laugh, “SHIT! Yer not listening, are you? Ahaha! Yer gonna eat me. Totally gonna eat me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-”

Peter tore at the cables wrapped around his foot. Acting as quickly as his petrified state would allow, he pulled the scalpel from his back pocket. But the dull razor’s edge refused to cut through the wires. Dropping the useless tool, he ripped into the cables one more time using all his strength. Only to free himself a millisecond too late. Always late. You lurched forward, making grabby hands.

Quicksilver vs. an actual, real life zombie. If he made it out alive, that’d make one helluva story.

But-

Wait a damn minute. Hold the freakin’ phone. Why were you…looking at him like that?

The glazed over eyes of a living corpse opened up, all big and doe-like. Gazing at Peter in - no mistaking it - infatuated fondness. Your supple lips parted with a wide smile of pure delight. Like sunshine peeking through hazardous, storm clouds. You leapt forward unexpectedly, squeaking a raspy squeal. Burrowing your face into the warmth of Peter’s chest, you linked your arms around his neck. Holding onto him tight.

“What the-” He whispered, looking down at your messy head of hair.

Uh. Okay. So, that just happened. Weird. Why weren’t you feasting on his flesh? Wasn’t he supposed to be your first meal since zombie hibernation, or something? Didn’t you wanna go chomp chomp chomp, and turn his guts into mush?

Peter realized, looking at you up close, you appeared perfectly clean and preserved. You didn’t reek like a dead body. The earthy scent on your cold skin wasn’t too unpleasant either. It smelled herbal. Floral, even. Your smooth skin lacked any signs of rot. Aside from one or two lesions revealing rib or arm bones. Kinda...freakishly cool. The surface of your skin looked see-through, with veins weaving underneath like intricate wiring.

A little spooky, sure. But not all that scary to look at, surprisingly enough. Not like Peter expected, anyway. As you snuggled closer into Peter’s body, he began to realize how oddly affectionate you were. Very out of character, for a zombie. You squeaked an unintelligible noise, attempting to communicate. But you just couldn’t form the words. Maybe your speech capabilities fizzled out after years and years of unending silence.

Peter creased his brows, lowering his defenses and calming himself down. Another thirty seconds passed. His brains remained intact, and you hadn’t made him your next meal. He pulled the earbud from his ear, hooking them around his neck and pressing pause on the Walkman. Craning your neck back, your glassy eyes met Peter’s own. You grinned so big and joyful, gleaming the innocence of a pure-of-heart, golden retriever. Despite being totally bizarre, Peter found your sweetness...sorta...weirdly cute.

“Uhmmm…hi? Hey. Uh-why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” He laughed, a little uneasy.

Maybe your affection stemmed from something simple. If Peter were locked up in a cramped pod for so many years, he’d be ecstatic if someone finally freed him. You were probably just uber thankful he’d broken you outta that pod thingy. And you showed gratitude through touching, since you couldn’t exactly flurry him with thank yous. He could accept that. Sure. For now.

The walkie hanging from his belt droned a buzz, and Scott’s voice called out. Peter finally reached for it, maneuvering between his body and yours. Your arms stayed around his neck, your body hanging like a stubborn monkey’s from a tree.

“Peter? Do you copy? Peter, are you there, man? Talk to us. Please. Should we send someone over to assist?” Scott asked, his voice itching with alarm. “Yeah! Yeah, nah. Uh-hey, Scotty! Hey, I’m here. I’m oka-...dude, it’s fine. Nothin’ to worry about. Seriously. But…I do kinda have a situation here? Over.” Peter replied.

Scott exhaled a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. In the crackling background of the walkie, Peter heard Jean’s voice. She asked, “Did he say over ?” Followed by a series of hushed chuckles. Peter smirked to himself.

“Oh! Oh my god. Thank goodness, Pete. We were all getting pretty worried about you over here. What’s going on? Are you still at the lab? You said there was a situation. What kind of situation? Did that old place finally cave in?” Scott asked. Many, many questions.

Peter heard even more frantic, muffled conversations in the background. While he couldn’t understand them, he recognized the voices. The entire team had gathered, just to make sure he made it out alive. Awww. How sweet. They were worried about lil ol’ him? If Peter hadn’t had the bejesus scared out of him not even five minutes ago, his heart would’ve melted.

“Heyyyy, guys! Uhhhh…soooo…I might’ve found, like, a zombie? No joke. Like, a real zombie. But it’s not tryna kill me. It’s-” Peter paused, raising a brow. You fluttered your lashes, giving him a coquettish look, “Bro, I think it’s makin’ eyes at me. Legit. Kinda weird, right? Definitely not what I was expecting. But it’s totally fine. I got it all under control now. Over.”

A long silence fell amongst the walkie’s noise. Until Scott finally responded in monotone.

“Did we hear you wrong, or did you just say you found a zombie?” He asked, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief. As if expecting Peter to say - Psych! Fooled ya!

Peter parted his lips to confirm. But the abrupt tickle of a chilly kiss on his neck silenced him. You stood up on your bare toes, giggling sweetly. Across his hot skin, you peppered your chapped lips. Instantly, Peter froze in place again. Shudders rang through his body. He reached for one of your arms, tugging you to try and pull you off him.

“Uhm. Y’know what? It’s no big deal. B-But yeah, it’s a zombie fer sure.” Peter tugged your arm with more insistence, urging you to let go. But you persisted, giggling into the crook of his neck, “Like I said. No worries here. It’s not like I’m in da- haaah okayokayokay-”

Your feather light kisses became soft, kitten licks. Flicking Peter’s flesh with your slimy tongue, you squealed, tickled pink. Peter jolted, shivers sizzling down his spine. He tilted his neck to the side, wincing. Over the walkie, he heard Hank’s gruff voice.

“Peter! It’s Hank-” The blue beast said, as if Peter couldn’t already tell based on his growly tone, “Are you a hundred percent sure the undead creature isn’t dangerous?” He asked, buzzing through a scratch of interference.

Coldness slathered and swirled Peter’s neck in slow circles. Fluttering his eyes closed, he replied, “N-Not dangerous. Ohhhh. Definitely not dangerous. No danger here. All good. Over.” Again, he tried to pull you off.

Your discolored arms tightened their hold around his neck and over his shoulders. Cooing noises dripped from your tongue like honey, so sugary sweet. You swiped his skin with your tongue, nuzzling your cold nose into the heated crevice of his neck. Pressing your body closer into his, you squirmed, littering him with zombie kisses.

Peter tensed, apprehensive of your affections. He didn’t want to be too harsh or aggressive towards you. Worried that any sign of conflict might make you snap. For all he knew, you might go bonkers and brain hungry. Really, he should’ve gotten it over with and pushed you away. Before you took things a little too far. And you did. Your teeth sank into his neck, lightly nibbling his flesh. As you pressed yourself even closer into his proximity, your breasts - covered only by a ragged crop top - met the swell of his broad chest. WOOOOOAH! Talk about twisted! Sure, okay, maybe your bites turned him on, like, a little. Flooding his body with a pleasant, all-over shudder of pleasure. But he couldn’t just fold for a zombie, could he? That’d be disgusting!

It’d be gross, right?

A subconscious desire in the recesses of his lonesome mind told him he wanted - no, needed - the attention. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone like this since the pogs fad. Easy, now, Peter! Down, boy.

But…shit. As much as he wanted to give in, he couldn’t. Not for a monster. A living corpse, left cooking in a secluded pod for a decade. Cloaked in discoloration and held together by expertly crafted stitching. Not entirely mindless, but so dense, you hadn’t the forethought to ask - “What happened? Where am I? Who are you?” No. Instead, you went after him the moment you saw him, showering him in bubbly, zombie lovin’.

He…shouldn’t find that hot. His fingers shouldn’t be tightening around the walkie, and his groin shouldn’t feel as scorching as it does. Oh, man. Could Peter be any more doomed? He’d have to be mad desperate - way out of his mind - to reciprocate your affection. Raising the walkie again, he cleared his throat.

“Hiya, Beastie. A-Acutally, I think they-...the zombie really, really likes me.” Peter added for no reason at all. You nibbled him a little harder, and he winced again.

“Well, now! That’s good then, isn’t it? Better than the alternative, I’d say! If at all possible, Peter, you should bring the creature with you. I’d like to look it over. Maybe run some tests. Figure out what brought it to life! This could be the secret to reversing brain death!” Hank chimed, excited.

Peter rolled his eyes. Of course Hank wanted to poke and prod at you like some little, lab rat. He opened his mouth to respond, but choked before he could get a word in. Your dull teeth clamped roughly into his neck. Peter braced a free hand on your hip, his thumb digging into the cool, exposed flesh there. Now, suspicion began to dawn on him.

You could be a clever, little zombie. Capable of luring Peter in with flirtatious wiles and sweet touches. Once he let his guard down, what if you planned on tearing into his guts? Well played, smarty pants zombie. Well played. But Peter caught onto your little game. You couldn’t get anything past him.

Instead of slurping his blood like a 7-Eleven slushie, or ripping your nails into his taut muscles; you suckled his skin lovingly. Pulling tiny hickies into his neck. Squealing and giggling in that girlish fashion, playful with every nibble. Peter gulped, biting his lip between his teeth. No way in hell he allowed a zombie to give him hickies.

…Except he did. So what? No harm in it, right?

“Y-Yeah. Sure. I’m good. Great. Just hangin’ out with my new zombie buddy. It’s totally not gonna eat my brains. Like, zero percent chance I’m gonna die an ugly, zombie death. So, y’know, Beastie, don’t lose any sleep over it.” Peter responded, before following it up with a condescending, “Over.”

On the walkie line, Peter heard a series of groans and faint giggles. Followed by Hank’s voice, as he passed the walkie back to Scott. The X-Men’s laser eyed leader sighed, his tone unamused.

“Whatever, Peter. Just…just hurry up, will you? And bring those documents over for Hank. Thanks.”

Peter tried, and failed to keep his composure. A cutie pie zombie kept macking on him like a lovesick puppy, and he had no clue what to make of it. You sucked more sloppy, violet marks into his neck. Tugging his skin with your teeth and nibbling like you couldn’t get enough of him. Peter’s skin flared up in cold creeps, as you trailed your chilly lips to his shoulder. Pulling his jacket and the collar of his shirt aside, you spoiled him in more undead affection.

“Gotcha. Copy that. Ov- mmm -” Peter whispered a moan, replying with a rushed, “Overandout.”

He clipped the walkie back onto his belt. Attempting once more to pry you off him, Peter gave your arm a strong tug. A little more forceful this time around. As you finally dislodged yourself from his neck, Peter took a few steps back. Avoiding any stray cables on the floor.

Now, with some distance between the two of you, he cleared his throat. Peter brought a hand to his neck, grazing fingers over the love bites you left behind. Tiny splotches of purple pooled with offsets of scarlet. Faint teeth marks left grooves in his skin. He hissed.

Giving you the freedom to pepper him with hickies might not have been the smartest idea. Hopefully, you didn’t infect him with some sick, zombie disease. One with the potential to end humanity as he knew it. He couldn’t cope with the weight of that responsibility on his shoulders.

You gawked up at him with those big, adoring eyes. Excitedly, you squealed, hopping towards him with your eager arms outstretched. Hoping to pull Peter into another close hug, just so you could litter him in more nibbly, love bites. He raised an abrupt hand, maintaining distance. Peter cleared his throat again. His cheeks burned hot, doused in bright pink.

Totally not fair, the way an overly affectionate zombie got him blushing.

“L-Listen. Uh. Yer sweet, but-” Peter started. Subconsciously, his gaze drifted down your body. He observed the stitches sewn into your neck and limbs. His dark chocolate eyes followed the rips and tears in your skimpy shirt. The flimsy garment revealed a tiny peek of your - admittedly pretty - breasts. And Peter swallowed, his throat running dry, “Uhhh…you can’t keep doin’ this, okay? The-” He wiggled his long fingers, gesturing to his neck, “The hickie thing. If yer gonna come with me, we gotta lay down some ground rules. Alright? You get me, babe?”

You tilted your head to the side, blinking slowly. Gazing at Peter with a look that told him you didn’t understand. But you didn’t seem to give a shit either way. You reached for one of his hands, a dazzled smile curling into your lips. Purring a candied noise of affection, you brought his hand to your cheek and nuzzled his palm. Your lips gently kissed each fingertip. Peter pulled a face, knitting his silver brows.

“Why’re you so damn-” He shook his head, “Whatever. Listen. Can you, like, chill out? No biting, you understand?” Peter paused to make a chomping gesture, clicking his teeth. But this only made you giggle. Which, unfortunately, he found super infectious.

Peter chuckled, scoffing playfully, “Stop that! I’m totally serious! No biting. No licking. No kissing. Like this. You see this?” He gestured to the hickies on his neck, their trail leading under his shirt, “No more ‘a that, you feel me? I dunno how I’m gonna explain this to the crew back home. They’re gonna think we got, like, freaky ‘er somethin’. Yeah. Can you imagine that? Like I’d ever fool around with-”

Fluttering your off colored lashes, you tilted your head to the other side. You parted your chapped lips, squealing as you edged his fingertips into your mouth. Pressing the salty pads to your bitter tongue.

“Oh! EUCK! Gross! Don’t-” Peter scowled, jerking his hand from you in less than a millisecond. With a horrified look, he observed his fingers as if they were germ-infested specimens, “Yer a real weird one, babe.”

His guard fell. While Peter kept his perplexed eyes on his fingers, you leapt forward. Burying your face deep into the fabric of his shirt, you squealed. Gleeful and bubbly. Peter groaned, only half-annoyed. He made a move to push you off him again. But your precious, little purring noises changed his mind. Peter couldn’t find it in himself to put his foot down.

Turns out he had a weakness. Cute, overly affectionate zombies. Who woulda thought?

Whatever. Peter had wayyy more important things on his plate. He knew he should gather up those folders he dropped, along with anything else he lost during his freak out session. Once he did, he needed to get the two of you out of this dingy, old lab asap.

“ Mmmmm …n-need…” You hummed your first word, before squealing, “Loooooove~!” Your voice strained, rattling like you’d been pounding down cigarettes by the plenty.

Peter’s eyes widened, and he let his sizeable hands fall to your hips, “Di-...wait a sec, did you just talk? Holy shit! You can talk?” Peter asked, dumbfounded, “Woah! Wow. Uh…so…you got a name? Can you at least tell me yer name?”

Your case file hadn’t listed your name, leaving you reduced to a number. Pretty messed up, if anyone were to ask Peter. Either you still didn’t understand him, or you couldn’t remember your own name. Instead of giving him an answer, you nuzzled your face in his chest. You tittered, so soft and smitten, your ragged voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Cold, tiny zombie hands tickled the back of his neck, raking gentle nails down his torso.

Standing on your toes, you connected your cool lips with his neck all over again. You kissed your previous love bites, as if doing so would heal them entirely. Ashamed of himself for letting it happen, Peter stifled a groan.

"Y-...You don't remember yer name, do you?" He mumbled. Peter's strong arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in, "That is...a seriously messed up situation. But, hey, I'm here fer you. Don't worry, 'kay? We'll get you to a safe place, and you can start over there. Sound good?" His caring nature shined through. But male horniness abruptly overshadowed it, as your wet tongue tickled his skin.

A guilty part of him, overrun with sympathy, felt bad for you. Those scientists hadn’t treated you like the victim of an unfortunate accident. More like a toy. Meant to be ripped apart, played with, and abandoned. It seemed wrong to perceive you in a frisky light. But then again…you wanted love. You may as well have been begging for it.

Love. One of the first words you spoke since your undead coma. Not that much of a surprise, if he thought about it. As a science experiment, loneliness probably consumed you. Even before your decade-long slumber. In a way, Peter understood. He too felt haunted by a longing for affection for far, far too long. In his mind, that made the two of you kindred spirits.

Ahhhh …dammit. Peter just couldn’t resist you and your sweet wiles anymore. His self control steadily slipped from his weakened grasp.

“ Mmmmm! Wa-....waaaant…love~! Neeeed… mmm …lo-....love~!” You squeaked, your cold tongue curling over a fresh, purple mark.

“C’mon, baby. We can’t-...you really have to stop this. We gotta head back to base, like, now. Everyone’s waitin’ on me, and I-” Peter muttered, and you pulled back. Gazing at him with that mystified, doe eyed look. Like you saw the beauty of the cosmos in him, and him alone. Your lips sparkled, wet from your lovin’. Peter clutched your hips firmly. His jeans seemed...somehow tighter all of a sudden, “Would ya stop lookin’ at me like that?”

“Looooooove~?” You cooed, your voice taking on a lustrous, but groggy tone.

“Yeah. I know. But…” Peter sighed, letting his hands feel up and down your curvy sides, “Yer gonna get me in soooo much trouble. But, fine. You win, okay? What kinda love are we talkin’ 'bout here, babe? You wanna hug? Want me to-uhm…to plant one on you? Is that it?”

You perked up then. Peter took it as a sign you understood him, more than you let on before. He arched a brow. At this point, why even hold back? Because you were dead? So what! Who ever said zombies couldn’t be smokin’ hot?

If he messed around with you just a little, no one would ever know. Which…made the concept even more enticing. You could be his little secret. An affectionate secret he’d forever bury in the ground. In place of the grave those scientists never gave you.

Peter fluttered his eyes closed, finally giving in to your closeness entirely. Lowering his big hands, he grabbed your ass. His palms squeezed over the torn, booty shorts you wore. Never did he imagine - upon exploring some horror movie, science lab - he’d feel up a cutie pie corpse’s plump bottom by the end. What a way to end a mission. Life worked in some wildly bizarre ways sometimes.

Kissing a zombie? Not as gross as he thought it’d be.

Okay. Maybe for, like, half a second. But the earthy taste on Peter’s lips didn’t faze him much. Once he pushed past the initial ick, he embraced you fully. Peter decided he didn’t give a flying fuck how unsanitary zombie smooches might be. Uncoordinated lip motions lured him in further. Pinkish teeth grazing his bottom lip between kisses. Soon enough, they turned sloppy, and Peter found himself frenching the living dead.

Zombie make out session. An experience he hadn’t planned to check off his bucket list. But now, he could.

One of his hands gripped your ass. While his other held your face and pulled you in for more tongue action. In the midst of swapping spit, you sought every opportune moment to nibble him. Peter couldn’t help but be super into it. You mewled softly, giggling when he gave your booty a hard squeeze. Chuckling, he parted from your lips to look over your greenish face. Your eyes bulged so big and wide, pupils an off-grey color and impossibly huge. Wonderstruck by his very existence. Darting down to capture your lips again, Peter stumbled forward. He guided your body towards the operating table, knocking you into it. Your hips collided with the edge, causing a loud, vibrating clang. The rough motion worried him enough, he stopped sucking face just to confirm you were alright. Peter feverishly kissed your cold lips, his hands exploring your body. Feeling stitched skin under his fingers.

You pulled from him with a joyous squeal, but Peter followed. Confused as to why you stopped, until you dove for the untarnished side of his neck. Dull flats of your teeth chomped straight into his flesh, grinding a little too roughly for comfort. Peter winced with a start, ceasing his love on your bootylicious bottom.

“N-No! Noooo! Hey, baby, look at me.” Peter snapped his fingers to get your attention. Not that he wanted to be so demanding. But you needed to understand his boundaries, before you tore into his flesh and guzzled his blood. Instantly, you reacted, retracting your teeth from his neck. You moved to make eye contact, and Peter fixed you with a soft gaze, “What’d I tell you, huh? Look, it’s not that I can’t appreciate some neckin’. 'Cuz I totally can. And I really dig it. Like, a lot. But you can’t be munchin’ on me! Really freaks me out when you do that.”

You angled your head again, curious. Doe eyes gaped at him with fluttering lashes, innocently confused, “ Mmm. Giv-....Giiiiive…love?” You croaked, pawing at Peter’s chest over his shirt, acting so needy.

He couldn’t begin to understand what you meant, or what you imagined love to be in your head. Were you really so desperate to bite him? Or, were you asking for something else? Wanton, bedroom eyes dawned your pretty face. Plush, ashy lips parting. You pawed his chest again, your blunt nails scraping across his shirt. In your desperation to communicate your-uhm…needs, you jutted your hips forward into his jeans. “L-L…Lo-” You started, throaty voice oozing innocence. Though, the look in your lidded eyes betrayed said innocence, “Loooooove. Need. P-Please?”

Peter’s eyes popped open, as realization dawned on him. Oh. You meant you needed-... Ah. He understood now. The unreasonably cute, living corpse he found - dormant in a pod for, like, a decade - wanted to bump uglies. Great. Awesome. What the hell was he supposed to do about that? Fulfill your unbridled desire? C’monnnn. Didn’t boning undead cuties come with any moral implications? If he took you to pound town, would that make him a necrophiliac? Peter really didn’t wanna be labeled a necrophiliac.

But hypothetically, what if he admitted his own desperation to himself? He always fumbled every time he tried to step up his game and woo the ladies. Not like he had any game to begin with. And tonight, there you were. Practically begging for him to take you. He should acknowledge the fact that, yeah - no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise - he found you very hot. So, ludicrously hot. Zombie traits and all.

And regardless of how many times he second guessed himself - at the end of the day - his dick didn’t have any qualms about zombie hanky panky.

Peter’s hand traveled up, thumbs curiously tracing the rough lining of your neck stitches. Before toying with the rusted bolts an inch or two above. Testing if you could even feel it. You didn’t react, and Peter wondered if scientists used those bolts to revive you. Did they awaken you Frankenstein style, with sharp surges of electricity? Or did you come to life by other means? A glowing, reagent liquid, maybe?

Hesitating for a fraction of a second, Peter tugged the front of your loose top down. A pair of off-green, zombie melons jiggled freely. Stitches circled each breast, and Peter may or may not have thought they looked hot as fuck like that. Call him inhumane, but he really dug your whole monstrous babe aesthetic.

His hands kneaded the softest pair of undead knockers he ever felt, making you squirm under his touch. Peter grinned, pleased with every choked squeak leaping off your lips. He flitted his dark gaze up to your face, then back down to your breasts; back and forth, back and forth. Admiring the delicate expressions you made, your precious face scrunched in pleasure.

“Damn. Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are? ‘Specially like this.” Peter chuckled, pinching and twisting your perky nipples, “Bet those bad guys never did. Sucks fer them. Yer a total babe. And sooo fuckin’ cute. Makes me want you all fer myself.”

Sooooo…about your…cooch situation. Yeah. Uh…Peter might’ve been somewhat worried about that. Taking your condition into consideration, he felt himself overcome with hesitance. Fearful that your-uh…flower, so to speak, may have withered away after a decade of darkness.

What about diseases? The thought made Peter squeamish. Even though you appeared and smelled relatively clean, you still hadn’t showered in a long freakin’ time. Then again, protection existed. Not to mention, you were so, so needy and cute. Your body looked undeniably amazing, and felt so soft. Fuck it. With some reluctance, Peter willed himself to test the waters. For your sake, but also for his own. Just to make up for the years he spent wishing he could get laid again.

A win-win for you both.

Tugging your tiny shorts down your smooth thighs - finding a little struggle along the way, since the meat of your thighs proved an obstacle - Peter snuck his fingers under the hem of your worn panties. The millisecond before his fingers met the supple curtains of your pussy, he second guessed himself for the zillionth time. Peter’s subconscious doubt pestered him enough, he almost withdrew his hand completely.

But the precious whimper you made gave him enough encouragement to keep going. His thick digits cautiously braved forbidden, undead territory. Finding an overabundance of cool, silky wetness between your lips. Peter swallowed hard, knitting his brows as he scoured for your clit.

“Jesus, baby.” He muttered. Judging by your bubbly squeak of delight, Peter assumed he found what he’d been venturing for. Leaning slightly forward into your proximity, Peter circled your stiff, little nub, “You want it bad, don’t you?”

“G-...G-....Gooooood! Mo-....More? More!” You mewled, clenching fists into his shirt. Mindlessly, you canted your hips, seeking his crotch. “Hey, it’s whatever you want, pretty.” He mused with a smirk, voice tender, “Relaaaax. I gotcha. I gotcha. ”

His fingers drew downwards, teasing for a beat before cruising into your silken entrance. Lush, deathly cold walls welcomed his digits in a loving hug. Beckoning Peter to sink them in deeper. You held his shirt like a lifeline, moaning an angelic, rattle of a noise. Pulling you closer into his warm body, Peter lowered his head to your shoulder. Thin strands of silver hair tickled your cheek. His thick fingers curled, hooking into a cushiony spot inside you. Your near-empty eyes saw hot flashes of light.

“L-LOOOVE~!” You whimpered through hitched cries.

“Mhm?” Peter laughed, impishly nibbling his lip, “Feel that lovin’? Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

Keeping you distracted for a temporary moment, Peter dotted your neck in warm kisses. Subtly easing his fingers in and out of your velvet pussy at a quicker pace. Your knees buckled, trembling the faster he moved. Until his motions became brutal. With a perfect curl, speedy digits rammed repeatedly into that spongy spot you loved. Your sugary sweet, unintelligible whines rose in volume, as your sticky, little, zombie cunt quivered.

You gnawed powerful bites as you came, your teeth digging into Peter’s neck. But this time, he allowed it. He forced himself to muscle through the pain, holding your shuddering body close, “ Shhhh. Shhh. It’s cool, baby. It’s - ahh - it’s cool. That's it.” He cooed with a careful tone, stroking the back of your head and threading fingers through your ragged hair.

Easing his fingers from your cunt, he double checked the digits, making sure nothing seemed off. Your release felt thicker and stickier than any living person’s, but didn’t have much of a scent. While usually he looooved to taste the aftermath of a total cutie’s orgasm, Peter opted not to. Sure, your wetness didn’t appear radioactive or hazardous. But the thought of guzzling zombie honey put him off a little bit.

“G-....Goood?” You ogled Peter with half-lidded, glassy eyes, your lips parting in an irresistible giggle.

Peter bit his tongue. Alright. Maybe he…could give it a shot. Just this once. Zombie love liquor couldn’t be deadly or anything, could it? Disease-ridden, maybe. But Peter knew a hyper-intelligent doctor who could whip up a cure for most ailments. Guess it didn’t matter anymore. By the time Peter second guessed himself yet again, he’d already sucked his fingers clean. A bitter thickness lingered on his taste buds. Peter salivated at the thought of drinking down more.

“ Mmmm … mhm …not bad.” He chuckled, lips humming around his fingers, "I'd go fer seconds." He added with a wink, making you laugh.

Yikes. If Hank only knew how reckless Peter acted in the presence of some zombified cutie. He’d lock him up in the infirmary and run a thousand tests on him. Just to make damn sure Peter hadn’t contracted anything lethal.

Politely pushing you off him, Peter turned his head. He double checked the perimeter for any signs of life, despite the lab being totally desolate. Hopefully Summers hadn’t sent anyone after him, since the speedster took way too long returning to base. Unbuttoning his jeans, he pulled his hard length from the fly. Almost immediately, you gasped in elation. Tickled squeals danced on your discolored tongue. Thick, and flushed a dark scarlet, Peter’s cock throbbed in his hand.

"I'm guessin' you like what you see?" He snickered, giving his dick a firm stroke, "I like what I'm seein' too...if you couldn't tell." Every word Peter said, every charming smile he gave, seemed to attract you considerably. Drawing more kittenish giggles from you.

With your freezing, zombie mitts, you ungracefully reached for him. Cold fingers squeezed his cock, stroking in a clumsy motion. Peter drew in a sharp breath, the cool sensation of your hands arousing his nerves. Even if your hand to gland combat lacked any skill, it felt damn awesome to be touched like this again. He stepped forward, his giant hands grabbing your hips. You played with him as much as your little, unbeating heart desired. Tugging his burning hardness with an overzealous grip.

You tried lowering yourself to the floor, your mouth falling open, tongue gliding over your lip. But Peter instinctively stopped you. His hands darted to your shoulders, pulling you into a standing position. He preferred if you didn’t take your biting addiction downstairs. Visitations of the oral variety were closed to any undead visitors. At least, for right now.

“Y’know, I don’t usually like goin’ all the way on the first date.” He spoke, fishing his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, “Like, call me an old soul 'er whatever.” Peter worked quickly, pulling a condom out of his wallet. He slipped the latex over his length, “But I can make an exception. Just fer you, cutie. But this stays between us, yeah?”

You nodded, pushing yourself up onto the dusty, operating table. Peter cringed, curling his lip out of concern for you. This couldn’t be sanitary. Dragging his attention from the filth under your bottom, you parted your knees. With your body angled backwards, you pointed eagerly at your panty-clad pussy. Soaked and dripping under the thin fabric. Peter’s breath hitched.

“Looooooove~? M-Ma…make?” You cooed, scooting a little off the edge of the table. As if tempting him to give in and fuck you already, you wiggled your ass. Like a beautiful, monstrous display of stitches and postmortem skin. All for the speedster's taking.

"I-I mean-uh...sure. If you really want me to. What kinda guy would I be to turn you down?" He awkwardly joked, fighting his nerves.

Peter pushed a strong hand against your inner thigh. Warm on your deathly cold flesh. He pulled your thin panties to the side, teasing your glossy slit with the head of his cock. You whimpered, cute noises bubbling in the back of your throat. Edging you for a beat more, he slid the teary eyed tip over your clit. Before sinking his length through your walls. Inch by pulsating inch, he bottomed out in a flash, tip kissing your cervix.

“ Wohhhhh, fuck.” He groaned. A new kind of coolness enveloped his cock, plushy and soft. Hooking your stitched legs over Peter’s shoulders, you tilted your body. Inviting him to submerge as deeply as your tight cunt would allow, “Oh, baby…yer so-...ah, fuuuuck. ”

"G……..Goo-......Gooood~!" You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut. Your strangled voice erupted in a mantra of lustful squeals.

By some act of divine intervention, Peter could feel the swollen, unyielding lusciousness of your pussy. Walls wringing his cock, like you wanted to suck him dry of everything he had. He swiftly rutted into your cunt, hard enough to make you bounce against the table. Peter’s sluggish eyes followed your breasts as they bobbed. Titties jiggling with such a soft, sexy whirl; He felt his cock twitch inside you.

Leaning down, Peter loomed over you, the rough fabrics of his clothes sliding along your bare skin. He kissed you tenderly, a little heedless. In the midst of fondling your precious, stitched breasts, Peter's hot palm curiously pressed against your chest. Feeling...nothing. No heartbeat, no blood flow. A little spooked, he refocused his attention. Playing with your bouncing, zombie titties again.

"Feels so-...you feel so good, holy fuck -" He moaned, his voice catching in his throat, "So pretty. L- ah ...love how tight you are." Playfully, Peter lost himself in the moment. He pulled a nipple between his teeth, suckling one of your Frankenstein tits, "Loooove these zombie boobies. Hah -oooohhh, shit-"

Lying in slumber for a decade must have left you majorly sensitive. In just a few more, aggressive, bunny humps; you came again. Hypnotic delight burst through your core, pushing you to the point of tears. Your pussy fluttered, sticky wetness gushing around his cock. Reaching up to link your arms around his neck, you clawed little etchings into his skin.

“M-Mmmmmooore~! More, mmm- ...more~!!” You pleaded, coaxing Peter to drill you with all the energy he carried. Not to toot his own horn, but - little did you know - he harbored enough energy for a hundred men. And then some.

"You w- fuck -want more? Want more, baby? God, yer gonna make me-" His voice wavered between moans, "G-Gonna make me lose it-"

Peter’s mischievous eyes met yours, as you gave him that doe eyed look he couldn’t fucking resist. Sharp jabs of his cock sped to a blur, slamming into your cunt in a brutal display of his strength. Keeping himself balanced, hands pressed to the table on either side of you; Peter showed no mercy. Abusing your precious, syrupy walls with a ruthless pace. But not fast enough that he’d tear his means of protection. A harsh surge of heavenly pain flared up inside you, as he tore into your pussy and bashed your cervix.

"LOOOOOVE~! Ah~! Peeeetur~!" In a moment of post orgasmic clarity, you called his name. Slurred, and barely recognizable. How'd you even know? Had you picked it up from his walkie conversations? Damn, his zombie buddy's more perceptive than he thought. Peter snickered, finding your pronunciation ridiculous. But the cute, needy sound of his name on your lips triggered something.

" ’Mgonnacum- ” Peter whined, his brutal pace more inconsistent and sloppy, “Gonna-...feels too good o h fuck oh fuCK -”

A pearly white burst of thick heat stuffed the latex of the condom full, threatening to make it pop. Burying his nose deep in the crook of your neck, Peter moaned. Guttural whines ripped from his chest, drying his throat. Panting - not from exhaustion, but overstimulation - Peter loosened his muscles. In mellow, post nut bliss, he almost overlooked the sizzle of static buzzing from his walkie.

“Peter? Peter, answer me right now. So help me god. Everyone’s worried sick about you! Do you read me? Peter, I said, do you read me? Please!” Scott pleaded through a mix of agitation and genuine distress.

Peter drew out a long, hard groan. Pushing himself up a little, he fumbled lazily for his walkie. A sluggish grin curled into his dimples, as he nibbled his lip and winked down at you. His eyes half lidded and hanging heavy.

“Mmmm…’M fine. ‘M fine. ‘M fine.” He chuckled, overcompensating for himself. He knew he’d be in mega trouble with the crew by this point, “It’s all-uh…all good. Jeez, Summers. Did ya think I was dead ‘er somethin’? Haha…” Peter drolled, his tone slower than usual. He withdrew his softening cock from inside you, watching while you squirmed. On your back, you appeared a blissful, fucked out mess. Ultimately satisfied. Mission accomplished, “Don’t worry so much, bro. I was only takin’ my new, zombie buddy out to-uh…tooooooo…an arcade. Yeah. An arcade.”

On the other end of the line, a silence fell. Peter filled it with an, “O-Over.” to compensate again.

“...You took the zombie…to an arcade?” Scott responded, an edge of irritated disbelief in his tone, “Peter, are you out of your damn mind? Do you not realize how much of a risk that is? I can’t even-...your priority for this mission was to retrieve those documents for Hank. Doesn’t it seem irresponsible to be dragging an unknown, undead creature around a public place? I can’t even believe you!” He heard Scott scoff, “Now, will you please return already with those documents? We’re all waiting on you. Bring the zombie too.”

“Uhhh…yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Dunno what came over me. Sure. Okie dokes. Lemme, uh-” Peter spoke, playfully fighting you off. You reached for his neck, trying to pull him back down for post-sex cuddles, “Lemme grab ‘em. They’re goin’ hog wild with skee-ball right now. Crazy, right? They scored, like, sooooo many points. You should see all the tickets we got, man. We could totally get one ‘a those jumbo prizes. Say, Scotty, do you want, like, a giant Mighty Mouse?”

“Maximoff.” Scott replied sternly, without a beat of hesitation. His frustration oozed through the speakers, and Peter could feel guilt itching at his conscience.

In the background, Peter overheard someone - though he couldn’t guess who - mutter a, “Is Mighty Mouse even a thing anymore?” Oh. Once Peter returned, he’d be in for it. Royally fucked. Figuratively, and, thankfully, literally. In the short, momentary instance of silence between walkie communication; Peter disposed of the condom and straightened himself out. He disappeared for a millisecond, snatching a fresh towel from some luxury bath shop all the way in Paris. Dousing the cloth in warm water, he wiped you clean upon his ultra speedy arrival. Before helping you redress, making you look…somewhat presentable.

“Fine. I totally get it, okay? Look, man. I’m sorry. But can ya really blame me fer wantin' to hang after the experience I just had? Doesn’t matter. Be there in a flash. M-Maybe don’t tell Hank, though. If you can hel-” Peter rambled sheepishly, slinging the towel over his shoulder. He stepped backwards, extending a hand for you to take.

“Pietro Maximoff, I am beside myself with you!” Hank started, clearly agitated, cutting Peter off.

Peter groaned, mumbling quietly to himself as you took his hand, “He told Hank. He did it. He fuckin’ told him. Shit. I’m so fucked. I’m so, so fucked.” In a motion to guide you off the operating table, Peter pulled you forward by your hand.

“I have several questions. Why would you bring an undead creature to an arcade? What were your motivations behind taking the creature out, on a recreational activity? The potential danger or damage to the arcade and its patrons is far too high. And, furthermore, Peter, is there any scientific value to observing a zombie around arcade equipment? I understand you have this insatiable need to act out, but this is ridiculous! It is our duty, as members of the X-Men, to protect humanity from all threats. Including potential zombie related incidents at public arcades. Now then, please return the specimen immediately for further observation.” Hank ranted on and on and on and on-

A noise, like fabric tearing, cut uncomfortably through the air. Weak stitching around your elbow ripped loose, and Peter pulled your forearm clean off. Hank’s tirade met an abrupt end, as a blood curdling scream rocked the entire room. “Peter? Peter?? What’s happened? Peter, are you alright?” Hank panicked over the walkie.

Past the edge of terrified, shocked to the point of nearly pissing himself; Peter screamed. He wiggled his hand, trying to let go of your lone arm. But your hand held his tightly, your grip refusing to ease up. Once he finally freed himself, he expected your arm to drop to the floor. But your little fingers moved, crawling like spider legs. A zombie’s dislodged arm creeped up Peter’s shoulder over his jacket. Some real, Evil Dead kinda shit. He smacked at it, shouting like a housewife frightened by a mere mouse.

“YEAH!I’mfineI’mgreatI’mawesomesorryit’snothing.” Peter responded, rushed and unclear, “O-Over?” He cringed, scowling as you hopped off the operating table to retrieve your missing arm.

“...Pardon?” Hank asked, tone puzzled. Peter swallowed, shuddering while you pulled your freakish, deadite arm off his shoulder, “Are you…sure you’re alright, Peter? What’s going on? You’ve been acting awful strange tonight. Is there something on your mind?”

A lot. Peter had so much on his mind. Like, the totally real fact that he boned an undead, Frankenstein babe, for one.

“Uhm. It’s-...it’s nothing. Seriously, don’t even worry, Beastie. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Just-uhm…lab’s still-...there was some thunder, and the building-uh-” Peter nervously rambled, struggling to find his words, “Over.”

Another pause drew out long enough for Peter to realize his mistake. He cursed, smacking himself on the side of the head. How could he be scatterbrained, to forget his own lies in a matter of seconds? He had a feeling, deep in his gut; Hank would rip him a new one tonight once he got back. “...The lab? Peter…didn’t you just tell us you were at an arcade?” Hank asked, reasonably suspicious.

Peter’s voice broke as he replied, “I mEAN-” He cleared his throat, “Uhhh-...heh. I-I ran back! Forgot-uh...there was somethin’ I forgot. Like I said, doesn’t matter. I’m totally fine! I’m juuust peachy! Hang tight. I’ll be right there. Over and out.” Peter took a second to collect himself, clipping his walkie to his belt. He silenced the device, ignoring any further questions from Hank. Subconsciously, Peter took a step back as you reached for him again. His veins vibrated with a buzz of adrenaline. With your arm dismembered, you moved abruptly forward. Nuzzling your face into Peter’s chest, the same way you had all night. Still just as smitten with him. Groggy purrs rumbled in your throat.

Rolling his eyes, Peter patted your head, smoothing out your ragged, messy hair, “What am I gonna do with you? Yer nothin’ but trouble, y’know that?” He teased, pinching one of your cold cheeks, “Whaddya say we get outta here already? But I gotta make a couple ‘a pit stops. And you gotta behave yerself. Don’t get any funny ideas about eatin’ anybody.” Peter wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you close. Pointing at you with an accusatory finger.

You tilted your head, confused again. Peter really couldn’t get enough of that cute, clueless look. Hank and Scott had no idea what they were talkin’ about. His zombie buddy? Totally harmless. You’d never even hurt a fly.

Okay. First order of business. Find a Mighty Mouse plush, just to really sell his arcade story. After that, he planned on snatching you some nicer clothes. Anything to protect your modesty. Thirdly, Peter wanted to teach himself some gnarly makeup tricks. Cover up his hickies. Yeah. No sweat! He could do all that in a flash.

Oh. And late night pancakes. Peter refused to skimp out on those. He’d been craving them all night, and his body desperately needed to replenish its energy. Surely, the gang back home wouldn’t mind. After everything, they totally wouldn’t be supremely pissed and fed up with Peter’s bullshit. And the waitress serving at whatever diner he picked? She wouldn’t bat an eye at some undead, zombified customer, would she?

Why's he even kidding himself?

Gathering Hank’s files, Peter tucked them under his arm. He zipped around in search of whatever other knick-knacks he lost, including his fallen flashlight. Stepping towards you, Peter brought his earbuds to your ears. He exchanged the tape in his Walkman for another, aiming to keep you entertained with music while he traveled at superspeed. As soon as the tune graced your ears, you leapt in place. Squeaking a surprise chirp. Your shoulders bunched, and you darted your hazy eyes around.

“Hey, easy, easy-” Peter reassured, cranking the volume down low so you could still hear him, “It’s just music, baby. It’s nice, right? You like it? You like-uh…you like the Monster Mash? Crypt Kickers? Bobby Pickett?” He gestured with his hands, suggestively raising his brows, “We had a graveyard smash, didn't we, eh?” You simply stared at him, clueless as usual. Huffing, Peter pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Seriously. What am I gonna do with you?”

You clutched your dislodged arm tight, cradling the appendage close. Throwing a quick glance your way, Peter shook his head. He pulled his goggles over his eyes, and braced a warm hand at the back of your neck. The few seconds before he took off, he leaned in close. Hearing that Halloween melody playing from the earphones you wore, he quietly sang along.

As much as he liked cuddling ‘Ro on Halloween, horror movie nights; A new idea crossed his mind. He might just snuggle up on the couch with someone special this year.

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #txt

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matrixsss · 4 months ago

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So I have some thoughts about the Elaingate thing and I am letting these thoughts loose. You are free to disagree with my opinions.

You see instead of banning only certain characters, you could just properly tag submissions and reblogs. It is on the individual to curate their own safe space. When I came to the Acotar tumblr world, I realised that I do not vibe with Eriel or Eriels at all, you know what I did? I filtered the tags and blocked certain blogs that I did not enjoy seeing on my timeline. I created what I wanted to see on my dashboard. To protect myself from seeing things I do not enjoy.

If you as an admin of an event cannot be bothered to properly tag reblogs, then perhaps you should not be running an event that is supposed to be enjoyed by everyone who loves said character. And from what I have seen from last years event is that you did not tag things properly. It is seriously super duper flooper easy to tag things, heck you can reuse tags that the other person used, because you just have to click on said tags. Mindblowing right?

It is not even about censorship at this point, it is about how one group of abused/survivors of abuse is above another group. I know my triggers and other people know their triggers as well, I am sorry to say but it is on you to protect yourself and your own peace. If you do not wish to see something, filter the tags you do not wish to see.

And if you cannot be unbiased and your triggers are too much for you, then again perhaps running an event where creators should be appreciated and uplifted is just not a job for you.

To be honest if the rule just stated that no abusive things would be accepted or whatever, everyone would be fine and Elaingate would not have happened. And lets all be honest I highly doubt any Tamlains would even post anything for this event, even if they did who cares? because if you have shit tagged as it is supposed to be then you can idk simply ignore it and look at what brings you joy.

As an event admin, it is on you to tag things and be unbiased to all. But it is clear to me and the majority that you just are not unbiased.

Again you are free to disagree with my points, but keep it respectful.

#my opinion #elaingate

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azure-firecracker · 2 months ago

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This is about your Mulder & Scully scent headcanons and it reminded me of something Mulder said in season 1.

In the episode, ‘Shapes’ he says, “They told me that even though my deodorant is made for a woman, it's strong enough for a man.”

Which I know it was a joke, but I firmly truly believe that he was not 100% kidding and that he wears more feminine scents sometimes. Like the default ‘powder’ scented women’s deodorant, I can see him unironically rocking it

OMG ANON HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN THAT LINE!!

I 100% agree Mulder doesn’t seem to give a shit about gender roles so I think he’d probably wear whatever the heck he wanted. I think 50% of the time he wears an incredibly specific scent like notes of sandalwood with a hints of rose and honey (idk anything about scents so don’t @ me) and the other 50% of the time he smells like dust because he barely managed to look presentable.

I do think he makes a habit of stealing and wearing Scully’s perfume to see if she notices (she does, and she likes it, but will never give him the satisfaction).

Tagging @theswisscheeserag who sent me the original ask:)

#the x files #txf #x files #fox mulder #txf headcanon

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self-indulgent-paw-patrol · 5 months ago

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Ask game : mayor humdinger

Oh well XD tagging @darlingeryx so they'll see it too

My first impression - Isn't Goodway the Mayor? Oh, he's from another town. He looks like the Monopoly guy.

My impression now - He still looks like the Monopoly guy. And I'd be jealous of Adventure Bay if I lived in a place called FOGGY BOTTOM too, that's depressive as heck.

Favorite thing about that character - He wears purple while being blonde. That's a very nice taste in colors. Lary approves.

Least favorite thing - His Movie verse needs to fucking chill. He's almost a completely different character there.

Favorite line/scene - Gotta admit seeing him go from "I'm not going anywhere with you." immediately to "Okay, fine! I'll go with you. But I want to make it VERY CLEAR, this is NOT a rescue. It's, uh, an assisted exit." had me in hysterics, despite the seriousness of their situation.

Favorite interaction that character has with another - I love seeing him getting all competitive with Mayor Goodway but I also like his interactions with Ryder. Idk how to explain, it's just... He's usually so full of himself and suddenly he has to let a kid help him. It's kinda funny. And Ryder never holds a real grudge against him in the series (though I don't see it in the movies either, Ryder is just "oh for fucks sake, but okay, whatever, I gotta do what I gotta do" about him there).

A character that I wish that character would interact with more - I AM FOREVER SAD THE TWO GRUNTS HE HAD WORKING FOR HIM IN THE FIRST MOVIE DIDN'T COME BACK FOR THE SECOND MOVIE.

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character - Does Monopoly guy counts? Other than that... Dr. Eggman XD THEY EVEN SHARE THEIR LOVE FOR THEIR MUSTACHE OK

A headcanon about that character - To not repeat the same headcanon with Mayor Goodway's about them studying together... Hmmm... He's mostly a cat person because cats can't talk back (usually).

A song that reminds of that character - "Astronaut"

An unpopular opinion about that character - He DOES have some degree of respect for Ryder. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, blah blah blah, the Paw Patrol and the Kitten Catastrophe Crew, etc.

Favorite picture - HE TAKES SELFIES OF HIS DEFEATS I CAN'T WITH HIM

#van335 #darlingeryx #Ask Game #Paw Patrol #Humdinger #Mayor Humdinger #Paw Patrol Humdinger #Paw Patrol Mayor Humdinger

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 21 days ago

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questions tag game

*Some time ago* I was tagged by the lovely @oonajaeadira - thanks, friend! - to play along, so here goes:

Do you make your own bed? Always when I change the sheets. Sometimes when I’m in an overly productive mood/ I’m procrastinating something else. Never when I simply don’t feel like it.

Favorite number? 12

What is your job? I run an Etsy shop. It’s mostly geared towards weddings and other events. I have a laser engraver, and I use it to make engraved wooden bookmarks (they’re usually used as party favors but they’ve also been used as fundraiser items & book launch giveaways), photo engravings and replica event invitations. I also drive for Uber eats on the side. Which can be interesting and weird in similar ways that any food service job can be interesting and weird.

If you could go back to school, would you? Are we talking about college? I’m assuming we’re talking about college, in which case I would. I genuinely liked being in school and doing research and writing analysis papers. 🤓

Can you parallel park? Sure. Can I parallel park well? Haha. No. Luckily where I live I don’t really have to very often, and on the off chance that I do have to I either A) find a spot I can just pull right into, or B) take a really long time to get kinda sorta close enough to run into whatever store I need to and run back out.

Do you think aliens are real? Absolutely. The universe is too big to conceptualize and Earth simply cannot be the only planet with life.

Can you drive a manual car? I cannot. I’ve always wanted to learn but it never came to fruition and now I doubt it will because fewer cars are being made with manual transmission. Oh well.

What’s your guilty pleasure? None. Life is short and difficult so I’m going to enjoy my little treats without guilt.

Any phobias? Idk if it’s a phobia per se, but clowns freak me out in a way that makes me want to punch them and run.

Favorite childhood sport? Track. And cross country. I was a runner from the time I could run (my dad was a marathon runner in his younger years and so he would put me in kid races starting at age 4) up until about 10 years ago. In high school I ran the 400m, 800m, 1600m and 5k. Since then I’ve done every road race distance from 5k to a full marathon. I had to stop because of injuries- a stress fracture in my knee that never really healed correctly (my knees sound like a bag of scrabble tiles when I descend a staircase) and a total reconstruction surgery on my foot - but I miss it very much. If I could have new knees and feet I’d be running again in nothing flat.

Do you talk to yourself? Oh heck yeah. All the time. Usually in my head but sometimes out loud. It’s a lot of “what are you doing?” @ me.

Tattoos? Just one little itty bitty one - the number 26.2 (the length of a marathon) with a heart as the decimal point on the outside of my right foot. I dedicated my marathon to my mom, so the heart is for her. I want so goddamn many more though.

Favorite color? Leafy green. 🌱

Do you like puzzles? I do! I love codes and logic problems and word puzzles and even corn mazes. I’ve never done an escape room but I have a feeling I’d ace it.

Idk who may have done this recently or ever or five times already or never, so this is an entirely OPEN TAG - so go crazy, kids. Just tag me so I can see your answers. 💚

#get to know me #I’m jumping back in!#stuff and things #this is me #thanks adira!#Oonajaeadira #tag games

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spectator-zee · 3 months ago

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Hey there! I saw you've been starting to expand your own rewrite so I'd thought of a few questions or you! Now I'm not fully versed in your Wish AU, but I'm genuinely curious. So here we go:

How did you come up with the idea of your rewrite? Was it from watching the Disney movie or other people's rewrites?

How does SFTS!Asha interact with other Wish AU Ashas?

Same as #2, but with Apollo and the other Starboys. 😂

How long does your storyline go on?

Uhhhh.... Any Angst, I'm still new to it. 😅

How many songs are you including in your rewrite? Do they include A Wish Worth Making, or This is the Thanks I Get or perhaps an original song?

Is there a Flazino in your rewrite?

When can we expect the first chapter?

Are all 7 Teens included in SFTS, or is it reduced? Or are they just wiped from existence? 😂

Out of questions, but I want to give you a hug:

Good luck on your stuff! 😎

1. How did you come up with the idea of your rewrite? Was it from watching the Disney movie or other people's rewrites?

I got inspiration from both my mutuals, the movie, some tropes i love from watching different anime and reading multiple Webtoons.

So my little wish au was born. It was initially was just going to be my little secret, just drawing my own version of Asha and Starboy and writing down some ideas for the AU whenever I have ideas for it, but when @signed-sapphire tagged me to recreate my Asha and Starboy on this picrew they found, well-

I was forced to reveal my two kiddos 🤧

(Just kidding Saph ily platonically-)

ANYWAYS-

Lots of stuff changed compared to the first draft too.

I actually had two other wish AUs before the current one i have right now.

One is a sort of villain AU of Asha and Starboy, where i named that Starboy Alzir. (I can't remember why i named that guy like that tho)

And one where Asha is the thought to be dead princess of Rosas turned vigilante of some sorts, also with a Starboy (also named Orion). The guy was WAY less traumatized than the current Orion, Good for him!

2. How does SFTS!Asha interact with other Wish AU Ashas?

The Kingdom of Roses and Thorns 🥀(by @your-ne1ghbor) My Asha enjoys spending time with Neighbor's TKoRaT!Asha, they would probably talk about hobbies and what they do to alleviate boredom when confined inside a castle. Though my Asha mostly focused on her job of doing paperwork and castle finances and whatever the heck a princess's job is inside the castle idk. Imagine Navier from Remarried Empress, i definitely got inspired by her a lot when it comes to my Asha.

The Fallen Star 🌠 by @signed-sapphire She would probably not get along with Saph's Asha very much, she'd also try to reel TFS!Asha back whenever she's being rude to someone.

I feel there would be a scenario where TFS!Asha would be ranting to my Asha about the TFS!Seven teens for not appreciating their perfect and benevolent princess and my Asha would just be looking at paperwork and be like-

"Mhm" "Yes, that must be awfully tragic"

My Asha would NOT be listening at all LOL

Reach for the Stars 🌌 @oh-shtars At this point she's not surprised that there's an AU where she's a servant instead. She'd also be kinda akward towards her. since most of the castle staff in my AU knows of her existence but hasn't seen her personally or thinks she's intimidating/standoffish and she'd try her best to not "scare" RFTS!Asha.

Aled Wish au 🏙️ by @uva124 They'd bond over coffee and overworking maybe?

The Kingdom of Wishes 🌟 by @annymation She'd ask advice on how to draw other people, as she only knows how to draw herself, her surroundings and some animals.

Wish Granted @rascalentertainments She can't tell if WG!Asha doesn't like her or not because of her sarcasm. Though she thinks that WG!Asha probably already doesn't like her due to her being adopted by the Royal couple.

The Wishing Kingdom 🏰 @chillwildwave She'd relate on to her not being good at magic and both of their Magnificos berating them for not being good at it, she'd try to teach some of the spells she learned by herself to TWK!Asha tho.

The Assistant and the Star 📚 @tumblingdownthefoxden If she ever hears about TaatS! Asha was being stalked, she would have been pretty pissed and if she had the authority, she would have had them arrested and served prison time or community service.

Cause..im pretty sure that STALKING SOMEONE THAT IS THE KING'S APPRENTICE ARE PROBABLY GROUNDS TO SOME PUNISHMENT AT LEAST

3. Same as #2, but with Apollo and the other Starboys.

The Kingdom of Roses and Thorns 🥀 With Neighbor's TKoRaT! Star, Orion sees him as his first Starboy friend, his homie, his first partner in crime! Whenever he wants to hang out with someone (that isn't Asha), he goes to find him first...and drags him along with his shenanigans

The Fallen Star 🌠 With Saph's Cielo, he now has a pranking buddy! (Besides TKoRaT!Star of course) He does get concerned that he trusts so easily towards strangers. But good thing he's a living lie detector and he'll look out for any bad guy that wanna take advantage of him....aaand cue him shooting an arrow at TFS!Mag. Sorry Saph-

Reach for the Stars 🌌 Sueño my boy, Orion would play music for him whenever he sees Sueno is upset or uncomfortable to calm his nerves. When he heard about how he got imprisoned by Magnifico and got his magic drained for years...well, let's just say he had a violent reaction and RFTS!Magnifico is going to be a pincushion once Orion gets his hands on him--

Aled Wish au 🏙️ Wish Uva's Haedus, he had to do a double take cause he can sense that Haedus is pretty powerful. But after getting over that, he thinks that he's really cool to hang out with. Orion would also love Naos and Nembus, he'd try to teach them how to perform spells that they can do even with weak magic.

The Kingdom of Wishes 🌟 He'd be in awe over Aster's cool cape and question how the heck did he manage to defeat his Magnifico. He'd also applaud that Aster was ready to square up against his Magnifico too, i still remember the swords he made out of stardust, even though it didn't hurt Magnifico, it was still one of my favorite moments.

Wish Granted 💫 WG!Star!!!! i love this little bundle of Joy, Orion would have a bit of a hard time keeping up with Star's energy at first though. He'd also be pretty protective as Star doesn't seem to recognize how dangerous his royal couple is.

The Wishing Kingdom 🏰 I remember wave mentioning that Antares has a tendency to lie a lot. Due to a past experience, Orion manifested the ability to tell when someone is lying. Whenever Antares lies about something, Orion...would not call him out on it, in public at least. He'd first yank him somewhere private and ask if he's okay and that he's here if Antares needs someone to talk with.

The Assistant and the Star 📚 He can heavily relate with having healing powers yet not being able to save people who they needed to protect. (I love Altan's backstory btw) On a less angsty note, They'd bond over being the only Starboys having fluffy fur on their outfits. Orion would start a "Starboys with Fluffy fur on their outfits" club, only with two members at the moment :')

4. How long does your storyline go on?

In universe it would either be a few months or a year at most.

Cause I feel like it would be like an anime/cartoon(??) series with episodes in it to show dynamics of side characters with one another, or Asha and Orion shenanigans, The Royal couple shenanigans, even an episode dedicated to Asha's owl and Amaya's cat just having beef with each other. Asha and Orion needs time to establish trust with one another over time. Gain allies to stand against the King and Queen, Make the people doubt about the Royal couple, Arc where Asha gets to explore outside the castle walls!, Asha having her first public appearance, episode showing what happened to Rosas' previous King and second prince, Orion backstory, 7 teens POV, all that fun stuff.

(Disclaimer: I am NOT writing all that- I have NO writing experience whatsoever, my au is just a fun little concept that i would just either draw out or share little fun facts about whenever inspiration strikes)

5. Uhhhh.... Any Angst, I'm still new to it. 😅

Magnifico gifted Asha a crown made of thorny vines for her birthday, she still wears despite it being hurting because it's the only crown she has. And to remind herself that a princess's job is a heavy/painful burden.

6. How many songs are you including in your rewrite? Do they include A Wish Worth Making, or This is the Thanks I Get or perhaps an original song?

I don't really plan on Writing this au, it's more like a fun concept that i would share fun facts of or draw occasionally. But if there would be music in it, it would include most of the Songs that are already in the movie except:

• I'm a star • This is the thanks i get • Knowing what i know now

and i would replace them with songs like:

• Wouldn't you like

(Because i freaking LOVE Epic the Musical okay? and Orion would be the type to sing a happy tune with some sinister lyrics sometimes lol)

Here, Orion makes an offer of partnership between him and Asha, he'd be her ally in the quest of preventing Magnifico and Amaya's plans, he also sings some of their crimes during the song too

"She can turn you into an animal that would end up on a plate! "She can all but make you fall in love, like you're on your hundredth date! "He can turn into a monster! And he'll grind you to the bone" "They have all the ways to haunt ya, if you take them all alone!"

He sings these crimes that they they have done in a catchy tune so Asha won't get too spooked but he makes sure that she understands that those two are definitely dangerous and you should be very cautious around them. Because they have definitely done these acts, and would definitely do it again to any person who would oppose them.

• They're only Human

Here the Royal couple sings a duet, looking down on the people that are so far beneath them. Also I'd imagine them singing the Annapantsu and Caleb Hyles Cover instead of the OG version (I still love the og tho)

Not entirely sure what rebellion song I would replace "Knowing what I know now" though

And if there would be an Original song, it would be a song about Asha singing/comforting Orion because he's having a mental breakdown. Singing to him along the lines of- "Deep breaths" "Count with me" "And Repeat"

Idk I'm not a songwriter

And it would be named something like- "Don't blame yourself" or "Things that weren't your fault"

And at some point, Orion would sing this back to her, like a reprise of sorts when she's the one who needs comforting

p.s. I just realized that "Here comes a thought" from Steven Universe would be a perfect alternative instead oh my god-

7. Is there a Flazino in your rewrite?

Oh yeah he exists, Asha gave him a raise once, surprised that he didn't quit being Magnifico's magic apprentice since all the previous ones quit and was never seen again (She's secretly investigating where they are as she caught wind of their families being worried sick about them). Flazino didn't know why his salary increased and who did it, cause it's definitely not Magnifico or Amaya, but he's grateful to that person.

He also goes around Rosas to help with his magic, as he's one of the only people in the kingdom authorized to use magic. (Being Magnifico's apprentice and all)

8. When can we expect the first chapter?

I'm not really a writer, so i actually plan to show some happenings in my au with drawings once motivation strikes once in a while, or if some people asks me about stuff about my au cause i don't really talk about stuff unless someone asks me about it

9. Are all 7 Teens included in SFTS, or is it reduced? Or are they just wiped from existence? 😂

They exist! They help their parents who work at the castle, like an internship of sorts so they would take their places once they have come of age. (This might change in the future who knows)

10. Out of questions, but I want to give you a hug

❤️❤️❤️HUG!! ヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝ❤️❤️❤️

#disney wish #wish au #wish starboy #wish asha #shooting stars au #princess asha #wish 2023 #asks #zee says words

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mymelodymia · 1 year ago

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Hey how u doing? I’m in love with your fics btw they’re like my bedtime stories🥰

I saw that you haven’t written morgan much in ur fics so i have some ideas of a fic (or fics) you might like where y/n & morgan bonding with tony through the years. They’re a lot you can do them as parts or oneshots or one big oneshot it’s up to u really. y/n can be she/her or gn.

-12yo y/n asking tony to hold newborn morgan and he obliged, tears in his eyes watching his firstborn holding his newborn🥹

-4yo morgan & 16yo y/n in morgan’s room having tea party or dressing-up party (or whatever kid-friendly games lol) tony then join them and play along. pepper coming to get them for dinner and see her little family having fun (or one to put makeup on tony and the other style his hair and it’s getting messy haha)

-since pepper out of country for business, tony remains to watch his little troublemakers. But he had a bad day that the house label it ‘daddy’s bad day’. y/n noticed this and telling morgan to draw something to him and give him her best morgan cure ever (hugs). y/n did last remaining assignment as morgan finishes her masterpiece then goes to make hot chocolate for them 3. tony gets emotional about morgan’s drawing and more sappy when she hugs him tight telling him “it’s okay daddy. I love you” *sobs in 3000😭*, y/n sit beside him and hug them both (i mean them on the couch being cuddly comforting their dad🥹) then ends the day with a movie night.

-tony teaching dance to y/n for prom in their living room, morgan busting into them and the 3 dance together with an upbeat music, then morgan asks y/n to dance with her, and tony getting emotional again he’s so proud dad (FRIDAY caught him on 4k crying and sent the footage to pepper and rhodey lol)

-the stark family having an outing after y/n’s graduation, tony reminiscing the old times when y/n was just a baby and being taken care of (tony telling embarrassing toddler y/n moments to morgan. pepper in her Protective Mum Mode telling her kids embarrassing stories about their dad as kind of revenge for her embarrassed eldest *go pep!*)

-y/n being there for morgan’s first school day. morgan being there in y/n’s dorm room putting down boxes. this concept might work as a parallel yk.

one day at night morgan called y/n crying ‘cause she missed her sibling and y/n trying to comfort her😭

-years after all these scenes, the stark family expands with y/n’s little newborn. 12yo morgan asks y/n to hold the baby and tony (the sappy daddy he is) having flashbacks to when y/n holding morgan🥹😭

Yeah, that was a lot lol! idk if you’re busy or smth but if you do pls take your time. and pls tag me on your fics if u don’t mind ofc.

Good times Stark family x stark!reader

Pt 1/5

Summary: all the fun times you had with your little sunshine...morgan

Warnings:

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

You woke up at around 10:17 a.m. you went downstairs and no one was there, you expected your parents to still be sleeping given that pepper was pregnant and tony well...he's tony.

You gobbled down a bowl of cereal and went upstairs to check on your parents, passing by the nursery, you saw all of the pink and white, and the smidgen of grey in there too.

You smiled, picturing your baby sister laying in her crib, or on the changing table, or even just playing with her toys. You were so excited to meet morgan. The baby sister you'd always wanted.

You peeked around the corner into your parents bedroom. But no one was there, you checked the bathrooms, the dining room, the kitchen, the living room, heck you'd even checked the garage. But no one was there.

"Friday? Where is everyone?" You asked the AI, starting to panic. "Pepper has gone into labor and is at the hospital with tony." She stated calmly. "What!? Why didn't they get me up!?" You asked her. And she said....

"Actually, tony has left a message for you explaining this" she said as she played it. "Hey kid, i hope your doing alright. It is your first time home alone, but peps in labor and i didn't want to wake you so happy will pick you up when the time comes. And dont worry, youll be here for the birth. Love you baby" you heard your father tell you from on the voice message, he sounded like he was driving and pepper was maybe holding the phone up so it could hear him properly.

"Well tell happy to come get me! I dont wanna miss my sisters birth!" You said running out as Friday contacted happy, you were putting together a comfy outfit. Making sure your sweatshirt was fluffy so that when you held her, she would feel it. You threw on your sneakers and was out the door.

Happy picked you up, and stepped on it. Which made you think you were in a hurry and might miss it, but luckily, you didn't.

You ran into the hospital room, immediately being greeted with tony and peppers soft eyes. You ran over to pepper, taking her hand in yours. "Hey mamuh, you doing alright?" You asked her, gently caressing her arm.

"Yes, thank you munchkin" that was peppers nickname for you, she loved saying it, and you were determined to pass it down to morgan and possibly your children some day.

"How dilated is she?" You asked looking up at tony. "Shes currently 8 centimeters dilated"

"What?? Oh thank god i didn't hit the snooze button." Everybody chuckled at your joke.

After a while, she was fully dilated and ready to push. The nurses and doctors instructed her on what to do, while you and tony were at her sides cheering her on and comforting her.

"You got this mamuh, there you go! Come on." You and tony kept repeating these words until morgan was officially born <33333333

It took another few minutes for you and tony to be able to hold her though. But when tony held his second daughter on his chest, the man was crying with joy.

Though he was iron man, and acted like he was the Is toughest guy on the planet, he was actually a very delicate flower.

You tapped his shoulder, getting his attention. "Daddy, can i hold her now?" He immediately gave little Mo to pep and folded your arms in the correct way. After he finished this task, he took his baby and placed her gently in her big sisters arms.

You looked down at her and she looked up at you. You both stared into each others eyes for a while. Tonys eyebrows fell back, he felt a tear run down his cheek. He quickly whipped out his phone, holding it sideways he recorded you both for at least 5 minutes straight.

You smiled at her, letting out a small giggle in awe, and she cooed at you. Making you smile bigger, which made her smile, and all of this reminded tony of his first moments with you, as if you were him and she was you, it flashed before his eyes on how fast his little girl was growing up.

He didn't want the same for morgan, he wanted for both of you to stay like this forever. He wasn't going to let the first few months of little Mo's life off of his mind for a long time. He made the mistake with you, and when time went by so fast, he wanted to go back and not mess it up this time. He took an oath to remember these moments with morgan, it didn't matter if he was soothing her cries, or feeding her, or even bathing her. He wasn't going to let any of it go. Ever.

You looked up at tony, who was balling his eyes out. You giggled and leaned to the side to hug him. He began sobbing into you, holding you tight, pep definitely snapped a photo of this >:) she's gonna show it to everyone ehehhehehehehe

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

You came into Morgans room, the baby pink walls were covered in her drawings and photos. You sat down at the table that was seven times too small for you.

She was having a tea party with her stuffed animals, her ginormous panda bear plush sat in a chair, along with a elephant pep had gotten her, and a lion you had got for her.

"May i join the tea party m'lady?" You asked her in a strong British accent, "of course madam" she responded, trying her best to recreate the accent. Pretending to pour some tea in a cup in front of you.

you took a plastic cup she just "filled". Making a loud slurping sound. She giggled at this. (I wanna hear it so bad)

She eventually talked you into wearing a giant pink hoop skirt. (Even though she simply asked and you did it because you cant resist those big beautiful little eyes of hers) Which she had a smaller version for her.

after a while, tony walked in and paused seeing his both his daughters on the floor, in giant hoop skirts, having a tea party. A smile danced on his lips.

Morgan ran behind him and shut the door, locking it in the process 😈😈😈

"Wacha doing, and why did morgan just lock the door....wait who taught you to do that?" He said turning to morgan, who had her arms behind her back innocently "i did." You said raising your hand.

Tony eventually joined in on this tea party. And after begging for like 10 minutes, he put on a hoop skirt as well, and you ran out of the bedroom, getting caught on the locked door. And returned with makeup. "Uh-no." He said pointing a finger at you. You gave him puppy dog eyes, and so did morgan "....fine." you and her cheered before high-fiving.

While morgan did his hair in very odd shapes and styles, you did his makeup, badly....like, INTENSE blush. And bright blue eyeshadow. And red lipstick, you know.

Then pepper walked in to inform her family that it was dinner time. But saw all of you in giant skirts, and tony in a the best ponytail you can do with three inches of hair, and a tiara of course 😄 and you doing his makeup.

She chuckled at this, and especially tonys vulnerability to his girls. "Dinners ready, come on" she said before leaving the room. "Dont worry dad you look amazing"

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

You had noticed that your father had a pretty bad day at work, and decided to help him out a bit with the help from Morgan.

"Hey mo. Daddy had a rough day at work, and he misses mommy, lets call it 'daddys bad day' and i want you to draw him something with all of your skill, and then give him the best bad day cure ever! hugs" you whispered that last bit to make it more dramatic for her.

She ran across her bedroom to grab her crayons and a few papers, and immediately got to work, creating her best piece yet!

You looked at it, then back at her and high-fived her for her amazing drawing skills. You had the milk on the stove and the chocolate in the microwave being melted. (You really think that you would make him instant hot cocoa on daddys bad day? Didn't think so)

You watched as tony came downstairs from his hot shower, that was long as well. And watched him immediately plop down on the couch, putting his hands over his face.

Morgan climbed onto the couch and tapped his shoulder getting him to look over at her, his hands floating midair.

"I made you something daddy" she said handing him the paper. He took one look at it and immediately smiled, looking back at morgan he saw she was handing him another paper. "And this ones you and mommy" she said pointing at the two people hugging underneath a rainbow in a meadow of flowers.

He was already quite emotional from his hard day, he felt his eyes water. Little Mo noticed this and wrapped her small arms around his neck, squeezing him as hard as she could,

"Its okay daddy...i love you" he let out a small sob and threw his arms around her waist. "I love you too, my sweet girl".

You walked over and sat down on the couch on his opposite side. Setting all three drinks down on the coffee table in front of you. You leaned into him, you and morgan both squeezed the life out of him.

You turned on a movie, and after you finished your drinks, you and morgan passed out in your fathers caring arms.

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAA! I love writing for morgan so fricking muchhhhh 💕🥰😘🩷 and I'm trying to tag you I swear, it's not workingggg 😭😭😭 this has happened before just give it a few days maybe 🙃