#the boys they yearn for intimacy (im the boys) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

odiesdayoff · 1 year ago

Note

JAIME REYES NSFW ALPHABET?? PLEASE ANYTJING NSFW JAIME 🧎🏽‍♀️

IM GONNA BE SO REAL I HAVEN'T EVEN WATCHED BB YET BUT I YEARN FOR HIM. SO BADLY. this may change when I see it like...tomorrow.

NSFW under the cut <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s a cuddler. He’ll plant kisses all over you and hold you against him. He’ll keep telling you how much he loves you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his arms. Specifically how strong he is and how it allows him to pick you up and spin you around all romantic-like.

He loves your eyes. The color, the way you look at him, the way you squint when you laugh or smile. He can stare into them for days.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s a bit more traditional and likes to cum inside. He’ll always wear a condom, though. He likes the closeness. Also includes your mouth!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s into cockwarming. Or falling asleep like that. He doesn’t know how to approach doing that. The thought of having to do some work and just you sitting with him inside? Makes him swoon.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He went through law school. In GOTHAM. Briefly a city boy. He’s had a few dates before you and he knows how to make you lose your mind. It took a bit of a learning curve to adjust to you specifically, but he’s GOOD.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

When you’re, like, laying down together and spooning while fucking? Idk what that’s called. But that. He loves that. It’s just so intimate. He can hold you close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He loves to laugh. He enjoys spending time with you and doesn’t let it get too serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed. Dark and curly. That's all I'm at liberty to disclose.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s so romantic. Definitely would be the type of person that lights candles and throws flower petals all over the bed. He’s such a sweetie. Will constantly tell you how attractive you are and how good you make him feel.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’ll never admit it, but he totally jerked off using a pair of your underwear that you had left at his place once. He’d rather not masturbate when he has you, but he has needs!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Heavy on a praise kink. Whether it’s giving or receiving. He’s also into you being in charge!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a little basic. In the bed. He thinks it's incredibly romantic. That, or in the kitchen and dining room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When he wakes up in the morning before you and you’re sleeping, he thinks you’re so hot he will actually melt. He would fight for his life not to wake you up and ask to fuck. You getting along with his family gets him going fr. Just seeing the people he cherishes the most getting along with you fills his heart.

Also…neck kissing!!! He looves it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’ll absolutely NEVER do any of the step-family or things related to family, even as a pretend thing or scene. That’s just way too weird. He’s far too close to his family to think about any of them sexually in any way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a sucker for making you come and oral is one of his favorite things to do. Bro will literally get under the table and give you head while you’re eating dinner if you even mention being a little horny or maybe someone that flirted with you. He’s gotta show you that nobody can make you feel as good as him. He’s a bit jealous.

He loves to receive, but is far too shy to ask for it. If you put it on the table, he’s giddy. He’ll somehow think that he’s degrading you by asking you to suck his dick.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He takes it slow. Sometimes painfully slow, making you feel every vein in his dick each time he’s inside of you. If you asked him to be a little rougher with you, he ain’t gonna say no! When you’re on top or in charge, he lowkey loves when you kind of use him as a sex toy and go as fast as you need to reach your orgasm. He likes to prolong the moment as long as he can when you’re under him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers not to have a quickie. He wants to spend time with you as much as he can and take his time making you feel good. He definitely would not say no if you asked him right before either of you left for work and after you woke up. He just prefers a night full of lovemaking.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

It would definitely take a lot of convincing to get him to do more outlandish kinks, but he likes to try some things at least once. He’s not a “it’s hotter if we might get caught” person. Very much a behind locked doors kind of guy when it comes to sex.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go a few rounds. Again, the scarab would increase that stamina by a little bit.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Let’s be so real. Yeah. I don’t think he would have toys for his personal use, but getting things for your pleasure is his favorite thing to do. He loves watching you squirm as he presses a vibrator against you. He would literally ask you to watch a movie, then use the vibrator on you while you sit on his lap the entire time.

Also…that suit? It can literally be whatever he wants it to be…IF YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He looves to tease you. At the grocery store, while you’re having dinner with your/his family, washing the dishes. He wants you to be completely dripping/rock hard by the time the two of you get to fuckin’.

On the other hand, he likes when you tease him. He’s a firm believer that whatever he does to you, you can do to him. A hand on your thigh under the table at the family dinner? He won’t be surprised when you “accidentally” drop your fork and lean over him to grab it from the floor.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Some guys are afraid to moan, Jaime’s in his partner's ear losing his mind. Initially, he’d be hesitant to be noisy and all, but once he gets comfortable (or you get a place alone) he’ll make sure that you know how good you’re making him feel. He’s a whimperer. Hardcore. You can play with his hair and his breathing gets shaky.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I have a feeling that he would want to try to fuck while dressed as a priest. Maybe he watched Fleabag in college. Or had some religion in his childhood. Either that or have you dress in religious clothing and act that out. He’s not sure yet, but he wants to try it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s about average size, maybe six inches hard? Uncut. Slight curve upward.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He would be a few times a week guy normally, but after the scarab fiasco, his drive increases. You could bend over picking something up and he needs to have you right now.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I feel like he would absolutely pass out after a heated night. Like, I'm talking honk shoo mimimi with one leg off the bed and only half the blanket over his body.

#jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle #odiesdayoff #blue beetle x reader

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darlin-collins · 4 months ago

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Lasko and Dear

🔥C I V W Y

This is a very fun picnic

im glad you're having fun! i am too! ( y'all are nasty all I've gotten are nsfw hc i love y'all) (I'm sorry i mixed up n did David n here-)

join my picnic!

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

lasko's cum is liquidly, it's runny but it's a lot,,dear attempted swallowing it before but it spilled all over the place,now they always make sure to have a cover up blanket so it doesn't wet the bed,if it lands on lasko dear likes to spread it all across his chest

if he came inside them it will spill out,they get him going (again)by stoping it taking his hand and placing his fingers inside them

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

it depends !sometimes it's the most heart touching in the entire world, it's gentle,it sweet filled with kisses and soft touches,giggles and sweet praise

and sometimes it's crazy, it's all pants and flushed faces,high pitched moans and whimpers

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

lasko is a squeaky toy,we know that,we love that

dear is more of teasing praise while slowly moving around him "you like this? yeah? my good boy likes that? mhm?"

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

when dear sat on lasko's desk ,his first thought was him sitting on their lap while they jurked him

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

horn dogs i know it,you know it,we know it

#redacted asmr #redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr lasko #redacted lasko #redacted dear #alex' little picnic

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helluvaboss666999 · 9 months ago

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VOX, HUSK AND ALASTOR NSFW ALPHABETS PLEASE IM BEGGING!!!!!

Yesssss NSFW alphabet for

Vox

A=aftercare

I feel like Vox would try to act all cool and uncaring but like 2 minutes later and he's cuddled up to you. Would get you both a cup of water and order some food but that's about it.

B=body part

His favorite body part on himself would be his hands,he's not quite sure why but definitely he's hands. His favorite body part on you would be your legs, doesn't matter if they're muscular,thin,fluffy,he don't care,he loves legs.

C=cum

He probably would not cum inside,I think he would prefer finishing on your chest (flat or not)

D=dirty secret

He wants to try out some light bondage but is too scared of you getting weirded out to ask

F=favorite position

Definitelyyyyy doggy,he gets to see your back arch,your ass,and pull your hair! It's the full package

G=goofy

Meh I think he would be more sarcastic then goofy per say but yea he would make you laugh a lil here and there to ease up your nerves

H=hair

Very neat, groomed and shaved.

I=Intimacy

Definitely. He tries to be in the moment has much has he can and to try to make it special/good for both of you

J=Jack off

He's to busy for that so no. If he's got a second he'd rather have a quickie with you then his hand

K= sir kink, praise kink, degrading kink, and more

L=location

He's does not give a fuck I'm not kidding. If he has a second to do it he doesn't care if it's in a moving elevator

M=motivation

Anytime you wear any of his clothes. Doesn't matter if it's small has a bowtie or his button up shirt.

N=no

Choking. Sorry guys but he's scared of hurting you with his claws

O=oral

50/50 he's likes receiving and giving,he prefers for you to go down on him first but overall doesn't really care

P=pace

Prefers a fast pace but slows down every once in awhile

Q=quickies

✨yes✨

R=risk

He doesn't necessarily enjoy risk but he does take it a lot. Can you blame him? Bro needs to get what he can while he can.

S=stamina

Id say about 2 rounds then he's out like a light. He's got to wake up early in the morning and is already busy

T=toys

Not many,maybe a vibrator or two but that's really it.

U=unfair

Very unfair 😭 wears those slutty gray sweat pants with a boner then says you can't have fun cuz he's busy with work. But hey maybe you can help from under the desk ;)

V=volume

Gets louder towards the end,like at first it's just a few heavy breathing and slight moans but by the end he's louder then you

W=wild card

He wants to try subbing

X=x-ray

A solid 8 inches my dudes

Y=yearning

Literally all the time,boy's sex drive is through the roof

Z=Zzz

He falls asleep about 10 minutes after everything,he's extremely tired all the time and has to wake up early

___________________________________________

There's gonna be three parts to this,here's Vox! I hope you enjoy:)

#gay nswf #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vox

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how2forgive · 4 months ago

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bday diary...rambling look away...

birthday weekend was very special. i was happy to just journal, run errands, and go for a cute intimate dinner on the actual day. i continued the lil bday tradition w myself watching a rohmer film alone. this time it was le rayon vert and it was the perfect movie for this time of my life

on saturday my friends planned a night out for me💗 we barhopped then went to karaoke. v fun n cathartic

it was all very beautiful but i ended up hanging around and talking to a close friend while everyone else ubered home. it was rly late but i didnt mind walkin him home..we're always yapping together anyway n its always fun and i feel v safe w him! eventually when we neared his house he had asked if i had feelings for him the same way he had for me. i suppose i had given him the wrong impression these past few months, and that he thought we were heading into something romantic..when it is not the case..

i just find it interesting that if i am truly my unfiltered self with boys they will always take it as me wanting to date them. i want to treat all my friends the same, with the same heart and enthusiasm, but everytime i match my behavior i have towards female friendships with guys, it backfires ..

there was a long discussion that followed that was healthy and good but ultimately i just feel bummed bc in the end we decided some distance between us was best.

right now.. i revere friendship more and i feel sad that this rejection just feels like a failure or loss to him.. when it could be so much deeper and better than a relationship. but whatever

he told me he held onto this thing i said where i was like "im at a point in my life where my heart is open" and thought i was hinting at something? yeah...i have a lust for life..not boys..

i think overall im just frustrated and tired that i have to constantly justify my decision to be single or the fact im not interested in romantic love rn.. What i have in mind that makes me want to kms: my ex , who is on his second gf since me, telling me i need to "put myself out there" and saying "it'll be ok" as if he pities me.. i was like omg this must be my rock bottom. god must hate me

but NO. i have to say i am the most content and self-assured ive been in my twenties. its not problem-free but i dont have this horrible restlessness stirring in my soul, i dont have feelings of yearning or emptiness anymore. I just have gratitude for my little life and the instances of love lately that have felt like real true intimacy, more than ive experienced in relationships. Im still learning and figuring it out but it feels better like this.

#ok go off... It really is cancer season #l1

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mrsnancywheeler · 9 months ago

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hi yes i am the person who requested about a model reader, styling Finnick😭 sorry about that confusion

I’m a bit late but i too am an oral fixation girlie, especially when im stressed due to school, so often chew my tongue and cheek😭

honestly i see Finnick using it as an excuse to kiss you whenever he sees you doing it. while it is mainly due to him not wanting you to tear apart your mouth, but it is also so he can feel your sweet lips on his.

that’s why on another side thought, Finnick is a massive lover of intimacy. And tbh mainly not the sexual kind of it if that makes sense. That’s not to say he doesn’t like having sex with you, especially after he learns how do it with love, but he loves when he can be intimate and personal with you.

for example, just pure skin to skin contact. no clothes, just skin. again, it doesn’t have to be in the sexual way- preferably even. he just likes that sort of soul-tie with you, the feeling of closeness. even kissing, more often than not, a make out with him isn’t necessarily sexual, but more romantic. so he can feel your lips with his and enjoy how close you two are, his kisses are always passionate and filled with love. they yearn for you and not your body.

TEHEHHEHE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

-🌺 anon

it's all good pookie 💋💋💋

totally agree, like it gives him the perfect excuse to have his lips on yours, to be so close, to taste you, not that he needs an excuse, but it never hurts.

he does love intimacy sm, he adores hugs and cuddling to just be near you. taking a bath just so he can relax and hold you close, or a shower just for the intimacy of cleaning each other off, he loves it. being near you is like a spiritual experience and he craves it. nsfw but he's totally the type of guy to want to cockwarm in a non-sexual way, like he just wants to feel you completely, to be as intertwined as possible and just be one with each other. legs and arms intertwined, him inside you, foreheads pressed together, lips occasionally touching, bodies just as close as they can possibly be.

he's such a romantic, all consuming love type of boy and I love him sm too ❤️❤️❤️

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair smut #🌺 anon

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zvdvdlvr · 2 years ago

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hey you should some dating johnny cade hc

Dating Johnny Cade HCs

➳ 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢.

-> warnings: foul language, pet names { baby, honey, sweetheart }

-> pairings: johnny cade x reader

{🤍}

sweet boy ong.

PLEASE he loves to cuddle with you !!

"c'mere cuddlebug" <3

M E L T S when you compliment or praise him

is really really really really really really really really shy before you both start dating

100 fucking percent asked dally for advice b4 asking you out

look, if you have a RBF, johnnycake is kimda scared of you (at first)

until dall strolls up to you and offers you a blunt, johnny might think youll jump up and bite his fingers off lmao

ok so but i

johnny loves watching you smoke????

watching the smoke seep from your lips?? hes purring.

but when you shOTGUN?!?!?!?!? he's feral.

if johnny ever gets hurt, expect to be one of the first person he looks for to clean him up and give him shelter

if he ends up in jail for participating in one of Dally's stunts, he doesn't want to call

bc you'll be worried and want to spend ur money on bail for him 🤕❤

but its ok in the end bc hes in love w you

PICNIC DATES QUESTION MARK

i feel like johnny would be so down for these

i also think johnny's lowkey (and i mean low key) a cat person

is that just me? ok ill go away now

AN ABSOLUTE SUCKER for sharing cigs with his partner <3

if you had a good home life, johnny would really want to spend time with your family

because he was robbed of an okay parent/child relationship, he yearns for his partner's parents to like him

would be absolutely distraught if they didn't like him, my poor boy ☹

please tell him he's loved

he needs that

would call you sweetheart, baby, honey or a nickname based off your name or an inside joke or smth

johnny boy likes that intimacy :p

wap so hes a sub switch at best

GO TO THE MOVIES WITH HIM!!!!

PLEASE

sharing a coke (the drink smh) and fries :')

making comments the whole time and loving his little laugh that follows

play a prank or two 😍

but you might need to take the fall just a warning

if you tend to get in trouble with the law, johnny would be chill with that shit because he's friends with dallas winston

but will always be a lil nervous for his bae

will take you out when you get out of the slammer

diner dinners, late night walks (with knives for safety), dirty jokes, random puns... this is all johnny.

you make him so happy

would have cash set aside for a lil smth for your birthday dont even TRY to argue

cheek kisses, neck kisses, forhead kisses

theyre so... simple

so simple but they make him so happy

dally also likes how happy you make johnny

is protective over johnny, don't get me wrong, but is calmer when he knows its you

i mean, everyone knows you

you have a reputation, of course

dally lowkey admires you, even if ur younger than him

anywayz

is kind of oblivious when it comes to relationships, tbh...

its sweet (for the most part)

loves holding your hand

please

please hold his hand

please hold his hand all the time

two-bit loves you bc johnnys in love with you and you help him (two-bit) with making fun of certain Socs

you also have a rep for dark/offensive humor so two and soda absolutely lose their shit when you make a joke im not even lying

wait but like soda really likes the dynamic you both have

i.e: you act like siblings and poke fun at pony sometimes

but its all good bc ur dating johnny

i mean, dude, its johnny

darry highkey really likes you

the gamg likes you, johnnh is in love with you, we're all cool

imagine: mother darry's reaction to you get into a fight

"hey y/n," darry greeted the teen. they were grabbing a piece of chocolate cake. the curtis household was notorious for its chocolate cakes.

y/n shut the ice box door and went for a fork, strategically avoiding letting darry see their face. "yo," they replied, turning to leave the room.

darry stuck his hand out before y/n could leave the kitchen. "look at me," he commanded, suspicious.

y/n tilted their face up to look at him. darry's eyes widened. they had teo black eyes, a deep lookinh scratch from their temple to their chin, a dried bloody nose, busted lip, and a toothy grin plastered all over their face. "it wasn't my fault, dare, promise," they say.

darry tuts. "the hell it wasnt. you see johnny yet with those battle scars o'yers?"

"nah. ain't wanna wake 'im up yet."

dear god then two bit lumbers in. "hey, y'all heard? shepherd's plannin' a rumble- damn!" he howls. he swiped his finger in the frosting of y/n's cake and got a good look at their face. "damn kid! you kick their asses?"

y/n smirks. "duh."

two bit laughs and gets his own slice of cake while darry leans against the counter wondering how why y/n was so carefree.

"you're such a mother, jeez," y/n commented to Darry.

two bit laughed again.

"missed you, baby"

AWOOOGA BARK BATK BARK PURR MEOW JEIEKJQODIS

the gang totally gags and pretends to vomit when you guys kiss or they walk in go you making out

pony is ur no. 1 supporter

respect, my g 😪✊

if anyone wants more lmk. ill edit this bad boy later

johnny cade taglist:

@paxdawg

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iluvcarlislecullencuzhesadilf · 2 years ago

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JORDAN BAKER NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare: He’s really sweet and gentle and asks if your okay a million times and turns the shower on so you guys can shower.

B = Body part: Your favorite body part of his is his torso/abs and his favorite body part of yours is your thighs because he’s just thighs guy I know it.

C = Cum: He is a big boy so he shoots a BIG load

D = Dirty Secret: he secretly likes when you are on top.

E = Experience: He has some experience but not a whole lot so he would be experimenting with you.

F = Favourite Position: he likes missionary because he likes to see him pleasuring you

G = Goofy: he’s so adorable but when he has to get serious he will

H = Hair: I believe the carpet matches the drapes.

I = Intimacy: he loves to be private and he’s very intimate and loves cuddling and stuff like that.

J = Jack off: i feel likel lol he would only do it when you’re busy or when he’s very needy

K = Kink: he loves to eat you out and for you to sit on his face/ pleasuring you in general 😍. You on your knees he loves pleasuring you but if he’s pissed of UGHH. Also, he definitely has a breeding kink

L = Location: IM SORRY BUT.. the locker room OR the showers in the school mhmmmmmm

M = Motivation: he gets turned on by you kissing him oh em gee he will literally cream his pants.

N = NO: he wouldn’t be into hurting you really bad or tying you up that just isn’t him

O = Oral: he wouldn’t definitely LOVE giving you head BUT he LOVES when you give him head likes he’s a whimpering mess and hes skilled with those damn fingers.

P = Pace: He’s rough and slow but he’s still sensual.

Q = Quickie: he loves proper sex but when he’s really needy he will get where he can when he can.

R = Risk: he loves to experiment and loves to takes risks like in public in stuff but only when he’s really needed.

S = Size: hes pretty big packing 8 with a THICK GIRTH like im telling you thick

T = Toy: he wouldn’t really like toys unless it’s that vibrator with the remote control he would LOVE that

U = Unfair: he’s such a tease but he really doesn’t like being teased

V = Volume: he loves making sure that you know that you make him feel good he whimpers an whines for you. But he’s still the dom.

W = Wild Card: he definitely has a breeding kink like he loves to shoot his load in you and brag to the football team about you

X = X-Ray: HES THICK AND LONG he’s a big boy

Y = Yearning: he can go a few rounds but only if you’re okay with it.

Z = ZZZ: depends on what went down but he would make sure you’re okay before he does anything else.

#jordan baker #jordan baker smut #all american smut #all american

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smellslikemultifandomimagines · 3 years ago

Note

Could you do a NSFW alphabet for Theo Raeken x fem!reader?

also:

pairing: theo raeken (18+) x fem!reader

warnings: smut → NSFW alphabet

headcanon 🖤

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• ☾ ☼ ☽ •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

requests are open🖤

request guidelines✨

🌻masterlist🌻

smut night masterlist 💦

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

awh theo is very sweet and gentle

he'd help you clean up, if not do it entirely himself

he's sweet-talk you, whispering words of praises and affirmations

he'd ask if you were hungry and would make you something if you were

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

not meaning to be cheesy/cringy but every part of you

with sex, there's so much to do with every part of your body

he'd tie you up, kiss all way down your arms, ticking your skin

he kiss all over your stomach

love when your thighs shake

would love teasing your pussy and making you cum

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

oh my theo would love overstimulating you

to have you cum again and again and again for him

and with his permission would be such a godsend to him

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Theo would have a thing for teasing you in public

he would love whispering all the things he'd love to do to you in public

and if you're ever in a sex toy store or lingerie store, he would just die omg

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i mean not a lot haah

i believe you're his first girlfriend so getting into kinks would take a while until you're both comfortable and they'd be introduced slowly

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

okay so theo would love having you on your stomach, where he's hovering over you and fucking you from behind

and his lips would trail over your spine

or he'd have you on your back when he's teasing you in foreplay lol

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

yes omg! having you laugh during such an intimate moment would be so soothing to him

especially when the sex is super rough and you're just giggling when you cum or when he teases you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

groomed ahaha

theo is a person who cares about his appearance, despite not acting like it

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

seeing a smile on your face would mean so much to him when he's having sex with you

he'd always make sure that you're doing okay and would be so sweet when you need a break

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

not really actually

I mean he's got you around and sex with you is always super exciting so he doesn't feel like he has to

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

dom!!

i think theo is such a hot dom omg + would also think you're cute when you ride him and try to be dom

but i think he'd always break that 'dom character' to ask if you were okay

and he's very quick to notice if you're upset

would have a permission kink - like you would have to ask to cum

edging

would probably have a choking kink too

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his truck

literally in every location of your apartment lol

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

what gets theo going are kind of polar opposides

you have one side when you're super bratty

and the other, where you're just gazing at him with so much love in your eyes

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

consent-non-consent

there is nothing more hot and liberating than having your full consent to something he's doing or what you both want to try out

if it's not there, he doesn't bother

if there's any sign of you being uncomfortable, he will stop and ask if you're okay.

there might even have to be times when you've had to take a break bc it's too much (especially with overstim) - like theo would hate to see you cry bc you're in pain or it's too much

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Since theo's a dom, he'd be more of a giver

bby boy would have you thighs, if not whole body shaking for him

he'd tease you so many times, ranging from kissing your folds, to licking everywhere but where you need him most

as for oral on him, he would still be in charge and have a thing for throat fucking (only if you were comfortable)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough baby

though don't get me wrong, having kinky sex isn't an always thing - sometimes you both need to take a break and just have slow sex

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Im going to say no to this. I think theo really loves taking his time with you, edging you so many times before giving you a plethora of orgasms

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Again, theo loves experimenting and finding out what you both like and don't like

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think it's less about stamina and more about how many times he can get you to cum sort of thing

there'd be times when he can get you up to about 5-6 orgasms: 1 = fingers teasing your clit, 2= fingering, 3= oral, 4= vibrator, 5/6 = fucking you

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

you know what? i think theo would love to try out a cock ring

like i wouldn't be surprised

we all know theo's a kinky little shit, so he'd have the whole ordeal - ranging from vibrators, dildos, cuffs (both arms and legs)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

theo raeken is the definition of a tease

he loves edging you, getting you to that point of orgasm than pulling away

he'd love making your squirm, beg for him to let you cum

he can smell the arousal dripping off your body, wanting him so badly and he'd have the power to grant that or not

he would be such a tease during pack meetings or when you sat at your desk doing work

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I think little grunts ya know

like not too loud or soft

definitely would be louder if he was talking to you & would sometimes do that through gritted teeth as he grunts lol

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

i've mentioned this before, but having sex in every room of your apartment (bonus if you both live together)

like I mean dragging you into the living room couch, then the kitchen bench, dining room table, against the wall of the corridor, even against your bedroom door

he'd certainly waste no time pushing you against everything

something about that domestic bliss - that you have the place to yourselves where no once else shares that space

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i'd say he's above average lol

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

eh i'd say not too high but not too low

i think you both would have sex about 2-3 times a month (maybe more depends really)

but i think that's bc being a dom can be a little taxing on him

in the sense that he's doing things to you that he wouldn't do out of the context of sex - for example spanking

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not that quick tbh

I’d imagine him to be the type to go on his phone for a while after you’ve fallen asleep

And just hold you

Sometimes though he can fall asleep pretty quickly

═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

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═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

#theo raeken #theo raeken smut #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken x reader smut #teen wolf #teen wolf smut #smut night

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callsignspark · 1 year ago

Text

I LOVE YOU!!! most importantly: the sixteen candles gif???? omg YES! they really are the most tender and gentle lovers, aren't they? god I love them so much. some more thoughts below the cut!

oh he’s obSeSssSSSSed with herrrr (I need you to hear that a la Jean-Ralphio) - he is SO obsessed with her (I did read it in Jean-Ralphio's voice thank you, I love that)

THAT MAN IS A 404 ERROR I JUST KNOW IT. [bradley bradshaw: no brain function to be found] - this man is searching the floor for crumbs and lost his few remaining brains cells when he got a flash of that cream colored lace.

shut upppppppp, SHUT UPPPPPP!! That they’re just hanging out on FaceTime, while she’s on another call, like they’re chilling at home together?? HOW DARE YOU?!! This kind of easy long distance domestic intimacy, I simply cannotttttt - now that they've actually talked about things it's so easy to just let themselves each other and the time they get to spend together. there's no more worrying because they know it's going to be okay, that there's going to be a date (and hopefully more) once he gets back

blessssssssss 🫠🫠🫠🫠 Bradley Bradshaw loves girls who are smarter than him and that’s a FACT! (*goes to google ‘pretty boy’ in Italian*) - Bradley does love girls who are smarter than him (that's actually a line in part 8!!!) and now I need to know how pretty boy is translated. you know... for science...

oh that one brain cell he has left has a concussion from the way it’s ping-ponging around in his brain - so concussed it actually flung itself out of his ear, that thing is gone baby

this man is a messssss - hey fellas how badly do you have to be down to be daydreaming about the girl - that's not your girl - sitting in your lap and whispering dit things in your ear in Italian?? real bad?

AND THEN HE SAYS IT STOP 😂 why is he so cute??! - he so badly wants to rap it like they do in Community but he refrains (she would have loved it if he did though)

miss ma’am is going to END HIM - she is!!! and she's not even trying!!!

I love how it feels like they’re in the same room, living their best lives up life, when they’re in different states and in different time zones and haven’t even had a date yet. I love how easily they’ve slipped into this, the casual domesticity is my everythinggggg. Give me a gentle love. - they're only five hours apart but this week has done wonders because it's allowed them to get a taste of what it would be like to be together. a little preview of what it's like to dedicate time to each other like this!! it's lovely.

of course they did! OF COURSE! The 1% babyyyyyy - "Top one percent of Naval Aviators! More like top 1% pain in my ass!!" Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, multiple times between the years of 2018 and his retirement

noooooo, she’s only got eyes for you! Sweet, stupid boy! - it's less him worried about Harvard stealing his girl and more him being offended that he thinks would be so ridiculous for Mary to be naked in front of him and so he just barges in LMAO

OH I AM SO SO SWOON // MY HEART CANNOT TAKE IT, I AM TOO SOFT FOR THIS // THE LONGING! THE YEARNING! THE PINING! - I was writing this like "is it too much?? NOPE MAKE IT SOFTER"

WE’RE ALL THINKING IT MARY IS THE ONLY PNE SMART ENOUGH TO SAY IT - seriously why are they all so fucking hot? it makes no goddamn sense. it's a statistic anomaly

IM CHEWING ON DRYWALL AT THIS POINT PLANS ARE MADE TO BE BROKENNNNNN MY BEST BABE // me chanting “make new plans and get that dick” (lovingly, respectfully) - she's seriously considering it because she really can't take much more of him and not just throw herself at him (she won't just yet, but she's inches away from doing it)

NO THOUGHTS EMPTY HEAD. NO THOUGHTS EMPTY HEAD. NO THOUGHTS EMPTY HEAD. NO THOUGHTS EMPTY HEAD. help help help. *sos pushing the life alert button with the last of me my strength* - he's dressed like superbowl commercial miles so pls picture (minus the beard):

well fuck me - him squeezing her hips while he slides past her was just a little thing I threw in there to get them to sit down at the table but it's ended up being one of my favorite things from this chapter

oh my sweet girliepop. Getting this from her pov is so OUCH. - ever since I wrote that one shot I KNEW I would be including her pov and I knew I had to make it heart breaking!! success!

THE WAY MY EYES FLOODED WITH TEARS!! Be gone dry eyes, all I need is to read these few sentence whenever I need a dewy eye refresh. Oh my heart is too tender for this. THE UNSAID I AM COMMITTED TO YOU IN PASTA FORM - I am committed to you in pasta form is just their love language!!!!

AND THEYRE STILL HOLDING HANDS?!!! 🫠 - YUP THOSE PINKIES ARE LINKED MY FRIEND

thank you for all your kind words and yelling, love you so much M3

Mar[r]y Me - part seven

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, if you read these be warned that the last little bit will probably make you want to yell at me, ignore the fact that the mentioned tswift song wasn't out in 2021, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 4.8k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday!! it’s here! part seven!! I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks, I hope you all have an amazing weekend!! (side note: this chapter means we've almost hit 50,000 words on this story??? what!!! thanks for all your support!)

part seven - pasta e piselli

C’mon, pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

Bradley repeats the plea over and over again in his head, staring at his own stressed expression on the Facetime call screen. He’s not sure why he’s worried; she’s picked up every other time he’s called.

Which has been every day this week, so far.

He’s just about to give up, figuring she’s still busy at work, when Mary answers.

“Happy Thurs-” Bradley stops when he realizes she’s on the phone, holding a finger up.

“Just hang on one second, Zia! No! I-” She speaks rapidly in another language, surprising Bradley, before pulling the phone away and bending closer to her iPad. “Sorry, I just need like ten minutes to get her off the phone, and then I’m all yours. I can call you back?”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll just be here.” He returns her smile, only slightly distracted by the brief flash of lace he gets where her work shirt is unbuttoned.

Bradley watches her bustle around her hotel room, tidying up and throwing things in her suitcase as she talks on the phone. He gets comfortable on his couch, propping himself up on a mountain of pillows and letting the sweet sound of Mary’s voice wash over him. He’s pretty sure she’s talking to her aunt in Italian, based on the googling he did of the bits and pieces he was able to understand.

It’s sexy, he thinks, imagining what it would be like to have her whisper in his ear in Italian, even if he would have no idea what was being said.

“You would think the fact that she’s closing in on 100 would mean she would have less energy to talk, but somehow, she’s only gained strength over the years.”

His focus comes back to the screen, drifting away from the fantasy he was building in his head to find Mary smiling sweetly at him, her chin resting in her hand. “Hi.”

“Hi, Bradley.”

“You speak Italian.” She nods, saying something to him and laughing when he just looks confused. “What?”

“I said that you must have had a stressful day because your hair looks like your call sign, Mr. Rooster.”

“It’s not that bad!” A glance at his Facetime window tells him that his hair is sticking straight up. Of course, he can’t admit that it’s from running his hands through it during his minor panic that she wouldn’t pick up and then while dreaming about having her on his lap. “Okay. I’ve had better hair days. But back to you, Italian?”

“Yeah, my whole family speaks it to varying degrees. The first few generations - on both sides - spoke very little English, if any at all. My parents and their siblings are the first generation that you could consider fully fluent in English. I had older relatives that only spoke Italian live with my family growing up, so I was a bilingual baby.”

“Was it hard to learn English?”

“Not really? Our house was English first, Italian second whenever possible, so I picked both up pretty quick.”

“That’s so cool! I took Spanish in high school, but I really only remember how to ask about the library. Donde está la biblioteca?” They laugh at his poor pronunciation. “So, how was your day?”

“It was good! Very productive; with all the meetings today, I finally had enough time to finish my program review slides! So tomorrow, I can fully focus on outfitting the last three jets. The team up here understood the upgrade really quickly, which is encouraging. It means the training pipeline that Dave put in place is working.”

“That’s good. What uh- what are you doing now?” Bradley’s mouth goes dry as he watches Mary unbutton her shirt, slipping it off to reveal a white camisole that clings to her in all the right places.

“Some of the people I worked with in Florida are here for training and program review prep! And we finally all have a free evening, so we’re going to dinner! I want to wear that shirt tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to get makeup on it while I’m retouching.”

“That sounds fun.” He can hear how rough his voice is, heart thumping when he watches her eyes dart to his, a light pink appearing on the apples of her round cheeks.

“How was your day?”

He tucks an arm behind his head, watching her freshen her makeup and telling her about the antics the Dagger Squad had gotten up to without her. It had been a light day; everyone got grounded due to rain, so Cyclone had them act as guinea pigs for a new training regiment the Navy is considering. They had, of course, gotten too competitive about it and completely over-performed the expected standards. Admiral Simpson was so frustrated that he let them go early, banning them from his sight for the rest of the day.

“He really swore at you guys?!” Mary laughs, swiping something shiny over her lips.

“He did! And he did that thing where he gets so mad his face turns red, and it looks like that vein in his neck is going to rupture!”

“You guys are going to kill that man.”

“It’s Mav’s fault. He taught us the right buttons to push.” Bradley shrugs when Mary raises a doubtful eyebrow at him, a laugh threatening to break through.

“I only half believe that some of you are quite annoying all on your own.”

“Wow, hurtful.”

She giggles at his dramatic chest grab. “I didn’t name names; if you took offense, that’s your own fault. Does my makeup look okay? Any places need fixing?”

Mary holds the tablet up to her face, closing her eyes to show off her makeup. Bradley takes the quiet moment to admire her. She’s never really been one to wear much makeup, but every time she does, it just enhances her beauty.

“You look great.” He holds back all the compliments and praise he wants to shower her with, reminding himself they’re not quite there yet, choosing to add some helpful feedback instead. “You do have some mascara on your right eyelid, though.”

“Oh, thank you! I’ll clean that up when I change.” She walks over to the closet, pulling out two dresses. “Which one for dinner?”

“The red one.” He answers with zero hesitation. He loves red on her; the color always looks so good against her tanned skin.

She hums, holding the dress against herself and looking in the mirror. “Yeah, good choice. I’m gonna ch-”

Mary shrieks as a door flies open, and Harvard comes bursting in. “Are you ready yet?”

“Brigham! You’re only supposed to use that for emergencies!”

“I’m hungry, and I want to get going.”

“That is not an emergency! What if I was naked?!”

“I could hear Rooster’s big mouth; I knew you weren’t naked. C’mon! Get changed. I want to eat!”

Bradley sits there baffled as Mary throws the dress he didn’t pick at Harvard’s head, snapping at him to hang it up before slamming the bathroom door behind her.

Harvard does and then takes Mary’s seat, waving at Bradley with a big grin on his face, completely unaware of how Bradley is reeling inside. “Hey, man! What’s up? How’re you?”

He doesn’t break to let Rooster answer, rambling on about his week and the mentoring program Cyclone had sent him to work on. Bradley can only let it go on so long before he bursts. “How did you get in?”

At that exact moment, Mary reappears, the red fabric highlighting her tan and accentuating her curves, even better than he remembered it from the night they met. “We ended up with adjoining rooms.”

“We’re keeping them unlocked for emergency purposes, aka so I can make sure she actually has some fun while we’re here.” Harvard proudly announces.

“I was swindled; he’s got very convincing puppy dog eyes.” She ushers him out of her chair so she can slip her shoes on. “It’s like the little brother I never wanted.”

“You’re so mean to me.”

Mary looks at Bradley and rolls her eyes. “And yet he refuses to leave. Go grab your wallet and the keys so we can get going.”

They both ignore Brigham’s muttered complaints as he heads to his room, focusing on each other.

“You look beautiful, honey.” Bradley says lowly once their friend is gone, like if he’s quiet enough with his compliments, then their just friends for now promise won’t be broken.

She looks at him through her lashes, putting her earring on and answering just as lowly. “Thank you. You look handsome.”

“Even with my hair sticking up?”

“Even then, dolcezza.” She hums. A yell from next door interrupts them before he can ask what she called him. “I gotta go, or we’ll be late for dinner. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Have fun, be safe.”

“Hello?” Bradley grumbles into the receiver, not appreciating being woken up after it took almost an hour to fall asleep.

“I can’t see you, Bradley; turn the light on.”

He pulls the phone back, pleasantly surprised to find Mary staring back at him. She’s showered and propped her phone against something, her brown eyes looking sleepy as she snuggles under the covers. A wave of longing hits him; she looks so soft and sweet. He wants nothing more than to be there with her.

“Sorry I woke you up.” She apologizes as he flips the light on and stands his phone on his bedside table.

“S’okay. Did you have a good time with your friends?”

“Yeah…” She sighs, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “It was great! I haven’t seen them since I left last year. We drank so much wine, which happens every time we let Ron pick the restaurant.”

“You tipsy, honey?”

“Think so.” She giggles, burying her face in her pillow for a second. “But it’s okay. Brigham drove, and he made sure I didn’t twist my ankle in those sandals.”

“Did he complain about it?”

“The whole time, he’s a good guy.” She blinks at his annoyed grumble. “Are you jealous? It’s okay if you are, but you don’t have to be. He really is like a brother. Besides, you’re the only sexy Dagger. Like, you’re all ridiculously attractive - statistically, only one or two of you should be hot, and somehow you all are; someone should study the probability of that - but you’re the only one I think is sexy.”

Bradley feels his jaw drop at her admission. He wants to stop her and talk about the fact that she thinks he’s sexy, but she’s steamrolling ahead on a different topic.

“I’m so excited to get home! It’s Annie’s birthday on Saturday, so I get to watch her run around with all her little friends from preschool. It’s gonna be so cute!” She coos, her smile wide.

“You’re gonna need a few Advil after listening to all that screaming.”

“Probably, but it’ll be nice to see her have fun on her birthday.”

“Hey, speaking of birthdays. I was thinking we should do something for your birthday on Sunday since I’ll be gone on the actual day.”

“You remember my birthday?”

“Of course I do, March 14th - Pi Day. And if I did my math correctly, you’re going to be 34.”

“That’s right.” Her answer is just above a whisper.

He can’t describe the way Mary is looking at him; her eyes are big and glassy, and there’s something in her expression he just can’t quite recognize.

“I was thinking we’d spend an evening together - just the two of us - and I’ll make dinner for you.”

“That’s so sweet, Bradley, but I don’t know if I can accept. That’s a lot of work.”

“No, it’s not. Not if I’m doing it for you.”

“Bradley… that plan isn’t very just friends.” Her voice is quiet, shy.

“I know. But I promise, this is completely different than the dinner I promised you after I get back in May. It’s not a date like that’s going to be. So whatdya say? Gonna let me make you dinner?”

“Only if I’m bringing dessert.”

“Nope, it’s your birthday. You’re not bringing dessert.”

Mary’s eyebrows scrunch as she sits up to get closer to the camera, the covers slipping down to reveal her nightgown. Bradley swallows hard. He knows she’s not doing it on purpose - doesn’t think she is anyway - but the pink fabric drapes across her skin in the most tantalizing way. He watches the strap slip down her shoulder, feeling weaker with every millimeter it moves. It makes him want to give in to her, but he stays strong, insisting that she’s not allowed to bring food to her own birthday dinner.

“Fine. Am I allowed to bring wine?”

He thinks for a second. “That’s okay, as long as that’s all you bring.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Alright, smartass. Time for bed.” He lays back down, watching as she gets comfortable.

Mary hums, fighting against her eyes that are trying to slip close. “Talk tomorrow?”

“Course. Good night, honey.”

The last thing he sees before she hangs up is her pretty face, a sleepy smile on her lush lips, and her dark hair spread out on the white hotel pillows. “Night, dolcezza. Sleep well.”

The screen goes dark, and Bradley smiles back at his own reflection. It had taken some trial and error, but he had looked up what dolcezza meant while she was at dinner.

Dolcezza: Sweetheart or Honey (literally: sweetness; considered old-fashioned)

Mary’s anxiety has been eating away at her all day. From the moment she woke up, to getting ready two hours early because she was worried about being late, to this very second. The combination of nerves and excitement has her entire body vibrating. Her hand even shook a little when she lifted it to knock, thankful that she had tucked the wine safely into her canvas bag.

It’s just dinner with Bradley. There’s nothing to be nervous about.

She’s been telling herself that since accepting his invitation, but she can’t fool her own heart. Bradley inviting her over so he can make a birthday dinner for her because he’s going to be gone on her actual birthday? She knows this means more for them than just dinner.

More than just friends.

She’s beginning to regret asking that they wait to go on a date until he gets back from this deployment. He was so kind and understanding when she explained and had been taking everything at the pace she requested. But an itch is starting to form, one she can’t scratch by herself.

An itch that can only soothed by Bradley’s lips pressed to hers. By his big hands cradling her face. By his strong body pinning hers to the bed. By the two of them sharing a bed at night. Now that she’s had a slice what it would be like to be with him, she’s desperate for more. Just the thought of how he might taste-

You have got to calm down. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath.

Mary follows her own instructions, trying to practice the Lamaze breathing she learned at Danielle’s birthing classes, the ones she attended when they weren’t sure what Reuben’s schedule would look like. She’s smoothing nonexistent wrinkles out of her shirt when the door opens.

Why the fuck did I say we should be just friends for now?

Bradley looks gorgeous. There’s no other word to describe it. The sleeves of his sweater are pushed up and hugging his arms, the soft fabric stretched across his broad shoulders. He’s wearing her favorite pair of jeans, the light-wash ones that cup his ass just right. And he’s gotten a trim, his curls slightly shorter than the last time she saw him in person.

As a familiar aroma wafts past his tall frame, his flushed cheeks make her wonder if it’s because he’s been cooking or because of her. She hopes it’s because of her.

“Hi. Happy birthday, Mariella.”

She loves it when Bradley says her full name. His pink lips curving around the letters, the syllables effortlessly dripping from his mouth. He even develops the tiniest Italian accent, an unconscious effect of her name. Her heart pounds with the care he always uses with her name, the respect.

“Thanks, Bradley.” She’s momentarily taken off guard when he pulls her into his strong chest but is reluctant to pull back from his warm hug. “Whatever you’re making smells good.”

“Thank you! I think you’re gonna like it.”

Mary’s smile widens as he takes her bag while she slips her shoes off. “Yeah? What are we having?”

“Oh, that’s a surprise - you’ll just have to wait a little bit and see. Have a seat at the table, and I’ll pour you a glass of this wine you brought.”

She slips into a dining room chair and watches as he opens the wine, bobbing his head to the music coming from the record player across the room. He dramatically sniffs the cork, and the cheeky smile he shoots over his shoulder makes her laugh.

“Something funny, Miss Mary?” Bradley saunters around the counter peninsula, handing over a stemless wine glass.

“Nothing, just unaware I was in the presence of a sommelier. Did you taste the peach the label talked about?”

“I did; I also picked up on notes of lime. Very delicious pinot grigio you selected for tonight.”

“The Navy’s amazing reading skills in action.” She smirks at the confused tilt of his head. “It’s a sauvignon blanc, Bradley.”

He throws his head back as he laughs. “Shit! They all taste the same to me.”

“Me too.” She admits as he checks on the food, warmth blooming in her chest at the domesticity of the scene. All the anxiety from earlier suddenly seems ridiculous; she’s never felt more comfortable with a man. “Which drives Dani insane because apparently there’s a lot of differences.”

“Wine is wine! You know, like Mr. Incredible when he tries to do the math homework?” Bradley jokes as he sets salad and bread on the table. “Could you dish out the salad while I serve the pasta?”

Mary is slicing the loaf of sourdough when Bradley sets a bowl of pasta at seat. His chest brushes her back, and he squeezes her hip as he moves to his seat, murmuring a low thanks when she puts bread on his plate. She loses her breath as she sits back down, her heart racing when she sees what he’s made.

“Pasta e piselli?”

“It’s your favorite.”

“You remember that?”

“What’s your favorite?”

Mary perks up at the question, happy that Bradley is so interested in what she has to say. “Pasta e piselli, which is just pasta and peas. But it’s so good and filling and comforting.”

“Do you make it a lot?”

“I don’t actually, Amelia, even though it’s very easy to make.” She sends a conspiratory wink to her, getting a big smile in return. “It’s one of those recipes I break out for a special dinner or when I need a pick-me-up meal.”

“Special dinner? You ever make it for a date?”

The question stops her cold. She knows Amelia catches the way her face drops, a shocked expression she can’t quite control. One of her worst qualities, according to her mother. She can feel pity radiating from the young girl standing on the end of the cart, feeling sad for the pathetic thirty-three-year-old woman who can’t understand when a man just thinks of her as a friend.

Her throat feels acidic, swallowing the tears that threaten to show themselves. She feels so stupid, because up until that question, she would have sworn Bradley was flirting with her. She should know better by now. She’s not someone that men find desirable. She’s fat and awkward and bad at flirting.

Mary stutters out an answer, some bullshit about commitment, before focusing on Amelia, who interrupts to talk about cupcakes. She takes advantage of the distraction, using it to move them toward the cashiers and taking the first chance to get away from the siblings. She can’t help but feel even more heartbroken when Bradley offers to carry her groceries. He’s such a good guy. It’s not his fault she’s so pathetic and convinced herself a man like Bradley could want someone like her.

“That’s sweet, but I’ve got it. Been doing this all by myself for years now! Enjoy your pizza, guys!” She gives a poor excuse of a wave, her smile sad as she thinks about how true her statement is.

She has been doing it by herself for years. All alone - no partner, no roommate, no help - since she graduated college. Her best friends usually thousands of miles away, limited contact with her family in New York, only a few friends in Missouri. And then, in Florida, just when she had started to get friendly with people besides the admiral she worked with, she had gotten the job in San Diego and moved, leaving that budding life behind.

She should probably be thankful that Bradley didn’t press more after Amelia interrupted. That he didn’t ask her to help him make the recipe for whatever lucky woman he had in mind when he asked about making it for a date. Because she would have said yes, desperate to spend time with the man she had a crush on.

Well, that’s gonna stop now righ now, she decides as she sends one last small smile to Bradley and Amelia, trudging out to her Jeep and letting herself cry for a few seconds once the groceries are loaded. Driving home with tears leaking down her cheeks as her favorite sad Taylor Swift song plays on repeat.

“Of course I do.” His socked feet brush her own, and he reaches over to grab her hand.” You said you would only make it for someone who was committed to you.”

Her heart races at the implication of his words.

I’m committed to you.

“You asked if I would make this for a date.” Bradley nods. “This isn’t a date.”

“It’s not a date.” He confirms, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

“It’s only been a week, I’m not-”

“I know, Mary.” He gently cuts her off. “It’s not a date; I just wanted to make something special for your birthday.”

She tries to swallow around the lump in her throat, overwhelmed by the sweet and thoughtful man sitting beside her. Compared to her previous relationship attempts, Bradley keeps surpassing her expectations by leaps and bounds. She knows it’s not fair to compare them, to keep waiting for him to act like them. He’s not them.

He is so much better.

Bradley is kind and caring. He listens to her, really takes in what she’s saying, doesn’t just nod as the words come out of her mouth. The slightest brush of his skin against hers sets her on fire. He makes her feel safe; she’s never once questioned his intentions or felt uneasy while in the car with him.

Logically, Mary knows the beautiful man in front of her really does care about her, but it’s still hard to believe they’ve gotten here. That they’re here, having this not-date that is so clearly a date. That they’ve confessed their feelings.

“Try some.”

Her stare lingers on his face for another minute, committing his soft expression to memory, before looking down at her bowl.

“It really does look great.” She doesn’t let go of his hand, scooping a bite with her right hand and blowing to cool it down. Bradley’s eyes twinkle as she takes the first bite, his pupils dilating at the involuntary sound that escapes as the flavors melt in her mouth.

No one had made this meal for her since her grandmother passed away twenty years ago. It's like a taste of childhood between the fresh peas and the sharp pecorino cheese.

“Is it good?”

“Well, it’s not Nonna Romano's pasta e piselli, but you did a great job, Bradley. It’s delicious.” She smiles as his face drops in relief, a wide smile replacing his nervous one.

They spend dinner talking and laughing, their legs constantly brushing together as they discuss which post-program review happy hour mixers they should attend. Then, after the leftovers are packed up, Bradley ushers her onto his balcony and plops the two of them on his wicker loveseat, ignoring her protests that she could do the dishes.

“I’ll do them later. Just sit here and relax with me, would ya?”

“Fine.” Mary huffs, shuffling closer until she’s tucked into his side, warm and content under the blanket he grabbed.

The two sit in comfortable silence, cuddled together as they listen to the sounds of the street below and watch the last rays of the sunset slip away. It’s not until the few stars that are actually visible through San Diego’s light pollution appear in the sky that one of them moves.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, chuckling at her tiny, displeased whine when he pulls away. She watches him walk into his apartment, appreciating the long lines of his body.

When the door slides shut, she takes a second to just breathe, the crisp evening air filling her lungs and cooling her warm cheeks as she tries to calm herself down. The butterflies in her storm are waging a war against her, but not in a bad way. It’s not nerves or anxiety that’s making her stomach flip.

It’s happiness.

It’s Bradley.

An involuntary laugh escapes at the realization. Mary presses the blanket against her face, muffling the excited giggles she can’t control. Giddy like a schoolgirl with her first real crush. She brings the blanket down at the sound of the door opening; her cheeks are sore from smiling so big but they stretch even more at the sight in front of her.

Bradley walking towards her, singing Happy Birthday with a slice of cheesecake in one hand and his phone in the other. He carefully sits back down, handing over the plate to light the candle.

“Happy birthday to you!”

Mary can’t look away from the man sitting next to her. Her heart is so full she could cry. She’s never been one to make a big fuss about birthdays. Usually spends the day working and enjoying her colleagues' happiness at the treats she brought to share. Treating herself to dinner out and maybe some dessert before calling her best friends to chat and catch up, laughing through their awful rendition of Happy Birthday.

The effort Bradley has put in has her on the brink of happy tears. Not only did he remember her favorite dinner months after she mentioned it once, but he put in the time to actually make it. He’s done all the work himself and hasn’t let her lift a finger. Something she appreciates more than he could ever imagine. Growing up, there was never a day where she was allowed to not help. Every special day of her - birthday, graduation - ended with her in the kitchen, putting leftovers away and washing dishes while her brothers got to have fun. And on top of all that, she knows he asked Dani or Reuben for help because he’s stuck a candle in a slice of chocolate raspberry swirl cheesecake - her favorite.

His soft voice interrupts her thoughts. “Make a wish, honey.”

I hope we never get tired of each other. I hope we grow old together. I hope we love each other forever.

She keeps eye contact with him as she blows the candle out, hoping he understands she’s wishing for him.

For them.

Bradley stops recording and drops his phone on the table without looking, scooting closer to her with a hungry look in his eyes. It’s clear as day how much he wants her, even in the low light of the balcony, and it sends shivers up her spine.

“What did you wish for?” His voice is rough compared to a few seconds ago, like there’s gravel in his throat.

Mary’s eyes flicker between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide which one she wants to look at more. “I can’t say, or it might not come true.” His mouth wins the battle when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that. Would we?” Her heart kicks into overdrive as he leans closer, his right hand pushing hair out of her face while the other slips around her back, tugging her closer.

“Thank you for this, it was perfect.”

Mary leans in, her breath hitching when the tips of their noses brush. Her free hand runs up his chest, appreciating the soft sweater before dipping into his curls. Bradley presses in even further, the small dessert plate between them the only thing keeping them apart.

“Of course. Happy Birthday, dolcezza.”

if you would like to be added (or removed) from the tag list please send an ask!

fic tag | credit for dividers here

#I literally love you <3 #comment reblog

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taehyungsgrowl · 3 years ago

Note

omg pleaseee do an nsfw or sfw alphabet for xavier

hi babie :')

ofc! i feel like i hardly write anything for xav 🥺

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

i think aftercare w xavier looks a lot like him pulling you close... letting you rest your head on his chest and just having him hold you for as long as you like... sometimes talking... sometimes dozing in and out of sleepy kisses... sometimes getting a little high... soft and hazy...

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

xavier's favorite body part on their partner would be their legs/thighs. he's the kinda bf that loves to lay on top of or in between his partners thighs. especially being a dance instructor, he's learned to uh really appreciate a good pair.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

oh! i've for sure talked about this before, but mr. plympton is definitely into some cum play. i think specifically because i dont think breeding k!nk would be his thing... so like... pulling out and covering you in his cum would be so hot to him

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

hmm.. i think.. canonically... his secret would have to do with the porn videos he made but thats getting angsty so uh... i think he has a habit of hooking up with some of his aerobics students in the locker rooms - he likes the rush of the threat of being caught. word kinda gets around and more people sign up for the after class special than the actual classes...

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

you on top!!! absolutely loves it when you rise him. especially on a lazy morning just slow and steady... would have his hands propping his head up... just watching as you work yourself on his cock

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

this was is an obvious one - xav is honestly a big clown... honk!honk! almost to a fault... sometimes doesnt catch on to when he should be serious... but never fails to make you smile! even during sex. giggly... touchy... clumsy sex with him is a frequent occurence

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i feel like he would keep things pretty tidy down there not too sure what was "in" in the 80s but i do think he'd keep it well maintained lmfao

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

i think w his long term partner he'd be really intimate... soft kisses... holding their hand... almost a little gentle. i dont think that is always that case w his hookups though - intimacy is reserved for his special person

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

xav loves some mutal masturbation - hear me out: he thinks he's clever and found a "loophole" in margrets "no sex" rule (although we know he has no intention on following it! but im imagining him sneaking into your cabin or pulling you into the showers... gets you all hot and bothered and guides you as you both masturbate... he'd be like, "we're technically not making purple... yet.."

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he's into some roleplay in the bedroom and you cant convince he otherwise - and you've definitely taken it out of the bedroom too

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

idk about his "favorite" but it might be the most common (which i guess by default is a favorite) but his van! if he doesnt take you out in the back of the van, he'd sliding his seat back and asking you to ride him right on the front seat.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he likes knowing you want him. doesnt always have to be begging (although that does really get him going too) but just like... letting him know how much he's turned you on... telling him what you want him to do with you = he's in love

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he's really not into daddy kink (or mommy kink) -bad taste in his mouth from blake :/ but even without that, just not really his vibe

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

receiving! not to say he wouldn't be into giving it as well, but... with just a promise of going down on him - he'd do anything.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it really depends with xavier because he can give you both - and he can do both really well. like i said earlier, he loves when you ride him all nice and slow - but can definitely show you something a little.. rougher. no one gives switch vibes like xavier

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

omfg loves a little quickie in the van or in the dance studio! probably more often than not!!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

loves having the risk of being caught. as far as other "risks" he takes... it would be more dependent on what you ask of him. always down to try things you suggest but doesnt always suggest "risks" himself

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

hehe idk but i love the thought of desperate and whining xav that... finishes too soon because he cant handle much more of your teasing

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

xavier said pegging rights! so he'd let his partner use toys on him. i also think he'd be open to using toys on his partner too...

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he isn't the best at folling through w his teasing because he gets sooo needy and gives in + he's a little too impulsive to really drag it out.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

lots of sounds! not a ton of dirty talk but thats because he gets soo blissed out all he can focus on is how good you make him feel - which results in lots of pretty moans and groaning

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

i know we give dunc a lot of credit for best ass (of the cody boys) but you cant tell me aerobics intructor xav doesnt have a nice booty

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

im gonna say he's got a good 7 inches going on. not super thick but has good length

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

xavier is horny on main. i think he has a pretty high sex drive (hence the result of a lot of quickies)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

surprisngly, doesnt fall asleep right after! he's too high strung to fall asleep right after lmfao

#anyway we kinda dont love this but its what i got #xavier plympton #ahs 1984 #ahs #american horror stories #american horror story #xavier plympton smut #xavier plympton headcanon #ahs fic

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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years ago

Text

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!! (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names , @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up.

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew.

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture.

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love.

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames.

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in.

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him.

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet.

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though.

“That would be nice,” He said softly.

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces.

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway.

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower.

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights.

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it.

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about.

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around.

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though.

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head.

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers.

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive.

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death.

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be.

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep.

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

“What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants.

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask.

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.”

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape.

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away.

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--”

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins.

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid.

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away.

“Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed.

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that?

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top.

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside.

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.”

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made.

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.”

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it.

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun.

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology.

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet.

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways.

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it.

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine.

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back.

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad.

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet.

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear.

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do.

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist.

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him.

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face.

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime.

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x reader #wandavision #xmen fanfiction #xmen

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