#yeah it sure did pete

[sharkwing]

[judasisgayriot]

2004

[misaothewitch]

[yujeong]

Pete didn't realize he was holding his breath until Vegas slightly moved in front of him. He was too focused on what was in Vegas' hands, stretched in his direction for Pete to apparently take.

A gift, Vegas called it. Pete couldn't understand.

"Vegas. What are those?"

It was a stupid question to ask, but Pete couldn't help it.

Vegas' grip tightened around the bouquet. "Isn't it obvious? Flowers," he replied hastily, the pitch of his voice higher than normal. "Do you not like them?"

He was nervous. On edge. It explained some things, but not everything. Pete had to know. He had to figure out what was going on.

"Did something happen at the compound?"

Vegas had been at a meeting with Porsche all evening. He had seemed fine upon returning home, but then he suddenly interrupted Pete who had been washing the dishes and pulled out a bouquet of yellow roses from his backpack and he offered them to him with a warm smile on his face, somehow expecting Pete to not grow suspicious of the gesture.

"Why do you think something happened at the compound?" Vegas asked and his tone of voice made Pete finally raise his head to look at him.

Vegas looked hurt. His eyes were glassy, his breathing uneven. He was going to cry soon if this conversation continued. Pete didn't want that.

"I... just... Vegas, we can go to our bedroom if you want-"

"Fuck, Pete, it's not about that," Vegas groaned and threw the bouquet on the dinner table. He ruffled his hair harshly and muttered something Pete didn't hear. Probably calling himself a failure, as always.

"Has nobody ever given you a present before?" he shouted two seconds later, returning his attention to Pete, who could feel his eyebrows furrowing as he was staring back at him.

All Pete could do at the moment was utter the first thing that came to his mind.

"No? Why would they need to?"

Seeing the change in Vegas' demeanor made Pete come to a second realization then; that was the wrong answer to give.

[megacarapa]

😲😲 send me sth if you want! 🐢❤️

[headfirstslide]

random off my chest

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

“pretty picture”

pairing: bf!peter x fem!reader

summary: you and peter make a sex tape… hehe

word count: idk, i wrote this in 20 mins on here and it’s not proof read

warnings: smut ofc, p in v, praises, pet names, sex tape made, swearing, kissing yada yada

i hope you enjoy this, it would not leave my mind, i had to write it- i’m so sorry if it’s messy and there’s mistakes :):

“i’m nervous pete..” you giggled softly, watching as he propped up his phone on his dresser- across from where you lay in the sheets. “oh baby there’s nothing to be nervous about, you’re such a natural. don’t you wanna show the world what a pretty girl you are?” he smirked, pressing the little red button on his screen. you watched yourself in the frame, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, resting up on an elbow. “you’re silly.”

“do you really not wanna do it baby? we can stop at anytime, i promise. just wanna make you comfortable.” he murmured gentle as he walked over to you, his large body towering over yours, covering you from the camera. you peered up at him with those doe eyes that drove him wild, his hand slipping down to cup your cheek, stoking your skin softly.

“no, no i want to. youre sure i’ll be okay?”

“i promise baby. don’t even worry about the camera okay? just focus on me.” you nodded, pushing yourself up to sit as he kneeled on the bed, lifting your pj shirt over your raised arms.

“such a pretty girl. you’re a movie star.” he whispered, staring down at you in awe, as if you were an angel who had blessed the earth with your presence. as if he hadn’t seen you naked a million times. your cheeks heated under his hungry gaze.

“m’not, you’re the film director… you know more than me.” you giggled, your words sealed with a soft kiss upon your lips, tasting of fresh mint. you fell back into the pillows, his lips never leaving yours as his strong arms engulfed you, shielding you from the outside world.

“yeah, eyes on me. it’s just you and me baby okay? gonna make you feel so good, just how you like it.” he praised, kiss trailing down to your neck, giving a little nip at the exposed flesh as you withered under him.

“mmm pete-“ you trailed off with a sigh as lips kissed your breasts, teeth grazing and nipping your nipples as he teased you. your hips bucked as his hands explored down past your mid drift, tugging off your sleep shorts. “we can’t get too crazy on the first video now can we?” he smirked, eyebrow raising as his knee slid up, pushing your legs wide open.

“m-more?” you asked. “hmm, some for my own personal collection. ya know, when you’re away and i’m all alone, missing you, with my hand wrapped around my cock…” he hummed, his dirty words making you groan.

“you’re so bad.”

“and you’re so pretty. pretty and wet f’me.” he tsked, his cock brushing past your folds.

“don’t tease.”

“don’t tell me what to do love.” he whispered, tossing your legs over each shoulder, making you yelp in surprise. he slid home, filling you right to the brim. you moaned, back arched and toes curled at the feeling.

“baby- fuck this never gets old. this pretty pussy never-“ he slid out, thrusting back in firmly. “-ever gets old. so-fuckin-tight.” your eyes widened, meeting his as he fucked you deeper into the mattress.

“gimme a kiss baby.” you obeyed, hands cupping his cheeks, teeth clashing as your lips meshed with his. not once did his pace falter. you moaned into his mouth, crying at the pleasure.

“yeah fuck baby. you do make a pretty picture.” he groaned, breaking the kiss to look over at his phone, watching the way he contoured you.

“so, fuckin, pretty.”

[octoagentmiles]

I am thinking about Calico Jack again, me hearties.

It started while I was rewatching The Coconut Crabs, and I noticed some things:

although the episode aired after The Amazon River did, I could tell it was written before it; because of how Kwazii calls CJ his "grandfather" and just how he talks about him in general. so I fact checked, and:

The Coconut Crabs' creature report came out barely 2 months before The Amazon River aired, and we know they have trouble airing episodes in order/when they want to: just look at S5. (plus: according to wikipedia, S2 had problems regarding it's run overall, which could've contributed. I don't know much else about that, but yeah.)

Calico Jack had "shipwrecked" (so he said) on the crabs' island very recently. Claud says it had been "many years", but we clearly see the kids in the flashback and there's even gifts for them inside the cannon-coconut. So he was probably there maybe,,,,,, 2-3 years ago max. Y'know, despite being "Stuck™".

We're not told what the message for Kwazii says, but the camera does zoom in on the letter... which has a giant X and Calico Jack's signature on it—and WHAT would've been the next Calico Jack episode, had it aired when it was meant to? The Amazon River, which opens with Kwazii finding the medallion piece. Do you see where I'm going here?

Fast forward, I decided to rewatch The Amazon River with this newfound insight.

....And LOOK who's there, the second Kwazii arrives in the Amazon.

....And then who leads Calico Jack to him.

There's little moments all throughout the episode, that are... very suspicious, given this context.

See the first paragraph of my original post.

After he finishes telling Kwazii his dramatic story, he gives Pete a snack. Pete then flies out the window, and we learn a moment later he was waiting outside for them.

After Pete flies out, CJ turns away from Kwazii and [dramatically, again] pulls out his half of the medallion. He holds it out, flips it in the air, making sure Kwazii can see it.

Right before they reach the marsh, and before Kwazii even picks up the map, CJ makes a comment about them getting close.

He makes a comment about the capybaras attacking them: "Didn't see that coming..."

When they're running through the marsh, he shouts "This way!" as if he knows exactly where to go. Kwazii is still the one holding the map.

Then of course we've got the ending, where he's all like "Ah... welp, time to go! I've been here long enough. What say ye join me, Kwazii?"

I THINK. I THINK IT WAS ALL A RUSE.

The real life Calico Jack was famously an expert at mental manipulation, and ours is canonically teaching Kwazii psychology tricks in Above and Beyond. He's extremely smart and clever, and I think ALL OF THIS was an elaborate plan to bring Kwazii to the Amazon, so CJ could offer him the chance to sail away together.

*MIC DROP*

sobbing crying wailing i just had a realization about Calico Jack,,,, 😭

Man was NEVER stuck in the Amazon. He was hiding out there intentionally. He found the "Hidden City" AGES AGO: He was fully familiar with the capybaras ("I've never seen em act like this before..."), who the hidden city was just behind. He was in the Amazon for 20 YEARS—there's no way he didn't check 5 ft. away from where his capy buddies lived.

We know Calico Jack used to be a traditional pirate (mean and scary). He left his crew so that he could become better. He doesn't choose to leave the Amazon until he reunites with Kwazii, and sees him doing well.

Kwazii was cast away at a young age for being the way he is (kind, caring, helpful, etc.), and it's implied he's ALWAYS been this way. We also KNOW that Calico Jack "left to find the 'City of Gold'" when Kwazii was just a little kitten.

We're led to believe,,, and Kwazii's been led to believe,,,, that Kwazii is who he is today because of Calico Jack, but...

What if Calico Jack is who he is because of Kwazii?

[nouearth]

lessons in kissing.

dick grayson x male reader x peter parker.

summary: dick and peter become your professors in kissing 101 (& more).

wc: 6.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!peter, top!dick, bottom!reader, handjobs, blowjobs, kissing, cum-swapping, mouth-fucking, threesome, unprotected rough!sex, reader's first time, characters are aged up!

notes: yeah, so um... this might be my dirtiest smut yet. this was also my first time writing a threesome soooo, i hope i did okay? thank you, anon!

request by: anonymous.

“you’re lying! you’ve really never kissed anyone before?”

“dude, like, ever?!” peter gasped, and you turned towards him, slowly nodding while you grew cautious of everyone’s confusion. 

“not even when you were in kindergarten?” you twisted your neck for the nth time at the sound of dick’s voice again, and shame unexpectedly crept onto you the more the two men collected their bafflement together.

your cheeks and neck flamed as they both stared at you, bewildered as if your confession was akin to an unmasking of a superhero—like a family of lemurs, a small one, you’d reckon.

“geez,” your hand clutched onto the can of sparkling water harder before downing it, ridding your insecurity in several hard and fizzy gulps. “if i knew i was going to be interrogated, i wouldn’t have told you guys in confidence.”

“no, it’s just…” a careful exchange was puzzled together by the two men. dick shrugged and peter stammered, following you into the kitchen of his apartment. “i mean, not to make you feel weird or anything, but you’re not ugly.”

“i- pete, was that supposed to be a compliment?” your eyes narrowed at him jokingly, maintaining the coldness of your gaze to break peter into nervous stammers. 

“w-what, no!“ he shook his head and approached you closer, a mixture of awkward laugher filling the feigned tension between the both of you. “wait- no, i mean, yes! it’s a compliment.”

you’ve always found it cute.

“i think what peter means is…” bouncy steps followed you two into the kitchen, more-so to sate his appetite for pizza after losing his tenth consecutive match on a game, but consider his curiosity piqued. a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese didn’t stop him from joining. “you’re handsome, he talks about it all the time.”

“dude...” peter grumbled and instinctively turned his body away out of your sight, sipping at nothing in his cup. the only fizz left was the glare he sent dick; like a sparkler on holiday festivities. 

“oops, my bad,” another bite, and dick took his cup of soda to gulp the grease down. “we find you handsome—though, i’m pretty sure (m/n) knew that since i hit on him when we first met.”

“god,” you laughed it off, picking the pizza box of gloopy cheese to take it in your mouth. “can you imagine? my first kiss being with you? or even peter?”

yes, you can imagine. those thoughts had run rampant since you met them in freshman year of university, expanded upon it even. what would it be like to date dick? how soft were his lips? and the same for peter. sometimes, you’d even think about making out while he was in his spider-man costume, but that fantasy was shamefully bookmarked into a deep abyss of thoughts, only sprouting when you would touch yourself at night.

“why?” peter turned back, almost offended, while dick’s laughter joined you, and you swear you can feel a draft from how quickly he twisted around. “is that weird?”

“kinda?” the conversation made you shift on your feet. it was more intimate than what you were used to, and they knew it too, judging by the way they both stared at you again—hyenas. “i mean, i guess it’s because we’re so close now, so…”

“pft, that never stopped me,“ it was like a magic spell drew that confession out of dick. your fingers would have to be cut to coerce that out of you, but you weren’t dick—shameless and confident, you admired it on good days. 

nonetheless, you and peter both gave dick a questioning look. offended would be a regular person’s first reaction, but from the brief exchange you and peter shared, it was unanimous that curiosity took the lead.

dick’s gaze shifted from you and peter, and when the silence drew out for longer than he would’ve thought, a welcoming draft in the room awaited his rebuttal. “come on- you seriously think i stopped thinking about you guys just because we’re best friends now?

“dude, you think about me?” peter’s eyes widened. it would’ve been hilarious if you weren’t involved. you would’ve passed this off as a banter, no more than that. 

you hated to admit it, but you felt yourself throb at this revelation. blood rushed downwards in light speed and you were barely conscious to the drone of peter and dick’s chatter, but you shook it off, laughing at their banters like you aways did.

the day went on like usual. peter’s collection of video games kept you guys entertained for a few hours. when you felt fatigued from mashing your thumb onto the buttons for the ninth match, a walk downtown sufficed. laughing and bantering were the core of your friendship with dick and peter—like every friendship you’d imagine.

but at its finest, it was their vulnerabilities to you, and yours to them, that kept the foundation strong. they trusted you with every secret of theirs, aided them in a few missions of their own, and your friendship thrived. 

the next few days haven’t been exactly the smoothest. you were quieter than usual, and they both took notice because you’d pick at your food while their voices—questions and comments—were ignored, passersby to the street of hearville.

was it that weird to have never kissed at your age? to never have had sex? to not even have had held hands with another guy? they never made fun of you, but you couldn’t help but let these thoughts run rampant.

no. no, it wasn’t. people have their own pace. mine... just somehow happens slower.

you weren’t insecure, but you still felt weird. you suddenly became moody when you saw dick and peter, like you want to be left alone, push them out of your apartment when they drop a visit, drop their pants and suck them off-

oh.

ohhhhh.

dick and peter.

“teach me.” you suddenly spoke out and the two men looked up from their plate of food, exchanging a look with each other before questioning you, humored because you barely spoke all day. the tv played in the background and you were all sitting on the ground, eating off of peter’s very… very small coffee table.

“ah, i almost forgot what your voice sounded like, (m/n)!” dick laughed, twirling his fork into his pasta before shoving the food into his mouth. 

you made a slight pout, only because they weren’t taking you seriously. though, to be fair, you have been acting weird all week.

“with what?” peter noticed, a little more serious in his inquiry. but food was more of a priority for him, you can see him practically sweating at the thought of leaving his spaghetti cold.

“pete, you can still eat-“ you laughed, taking a bite of your food. 

“oh, thank god.” and peter does the same, chowing down on his spaghetti after a hard day of saving lives.

dick cleaned his palette with a cold gulp of soda, a refreshing hiss when the bubbles trickled down his throat. “so, teach you what exactly?” he continued on. “fighting? oh, dude, are you going to be a vigilante-“

“no, no! does it look like i have the strength to be like batman or something?” 

“well, i’m guessing that’s why you came to us for training?” dick amused himself, and peter chuckled, much to your annoyance. 

“guys, i don’t want to be a vigilante.” you grumbled, beginning to bury your confession deep in the pit of your stomach somewhere. “or a superhero, or a guy in a spider-suit with weird web things.”

“hey, they’re not weird-“

“i want to…” it was calming to watch the way your fork swirled itself into the pasta, metal tongs pierced and capturing a wave of sauce and spaghetti all in one swirl. “learn what it’s like to kiss.”

peter choked on his glass of water.

you continued, hot in the cheeks because you can see peter’s widened eyes even when you look away. “handjobs, blowjobs, everything…”

and a piece of dick’s meatball was caught in his throat.

a low drone accompanied the silence once the tv was muted and while a huge weight lifted off your shoulders and chest, you felt small knowing how vulnerable and weird your request sounded. 

“so, you want us to teach you how to…” dick cleared his throat and you feel like you could hear a smile, but you weren’t sure if that was your mind trying to convince you that everything was fine. “kiss and… other things?”

“yeah,” you continued to avoid your gaze, opting for the wooden floor instead. “i know, it’s weird. you don’t have to say yes or anything, it’s just-“

“is that why you’ve been acting stand-offish lately? peter was worried. he was the type to always blame himself of someone else’s behavior, no matter how much you tried to reassure him. though, you guess, he technically was the reason why you became so moody—part of it, anyway. 

“mhm.” the silence was defeating, you can hear their necks turn to look at each other—of judgement, most likely.

and it was all but confirmed when you can see them hopping back onto their feet and running—running as far from you as possible. “guys, wait, i’m sorry-“

you looked up and watched them dash to peter’s bathroom, immediately chasing after the trail of their steps in bewilderment. “what are you-“

“first step, make sure you have good breath.” dick handed you your toothbrush, his spare one at peter’s already brushing into the foaming spearmint in his mouth.

“atleastluntilhelikeyousenough” peter gargled thick and incoherent, brushing into his jumbled sentence.

“uh-huh, okay… seems a little obvious, but…” you spread the toothpaste on the bristles of your brush and began brushing, a smile forming because you have to brush the front teeth too—but also because of your best friends.

you can always count on them. 

“you ready?” dick naturally became the leader of this impromptu training program. he was the most experienced considering how many women and men you caught him with, and as much as you hated that when you were roommates with him, his expertise was needed in this moment. 

“yes.” you sat in the middle of peter and dick, rubbing your sweaty palms against your shorts. a mere flash of regret ignited inside of your beating heart, but peter rested his hand on top of one of yours, squeezing ever so gently to warm and soothe you—to pacify you.

and your worries were quelled when dick does the same, his smile softer, countering his usual playful attitude. “just stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable.” he made you feel safe.

you looked at peter, and he nodded in agreement, his fingers now intertwined with yours. he had always kept you safe, feeling safe, this was a normal feeling towards him. “same with me.” “i will.” your voice was quiet in the bedroom, a mere soft whisper, but they recognized your will to be more vulnerable with one another, to blossom. and dick appeased it with a kiss.

light and feathery at first to test the water, but once dick heard your breath hitch, he applied more pressure in between your lips, capturing them in a slow waltz that kept you on your toes, yet flat on your feet to contain your excitement—your relief. 

it was awkward at first, to find your footing. your nose would bump into his, teeth as well, but dick chuckled, assuring you this will always happen.

unbeknownst to you, dick’s been wanting to do this since he met you, and he savored every second. “remember what i told you… build it up.” he reminded you because you were getting eager, following his lead but returning his kiss in hard sucks. “nice and slow.” 

peter’s palm on your thigh pressed gently onto your bare skin, mistakenly under the lift of your shorts because he was too in awe of the kiss, but they grounded you from your brief flight to the heavenly clouds nonetheless.

“nice and slow…” dick repeated, and you succumbed to his reminder like a prodigy. “that’s it.” it lasted for a few seconds longer until you pulled away to capture your breath again. your lips tingled still, remembering the taste of spearmint when dick’s breath ghosted on your skin.

“was that okay?” an innocent question, but you swore you stole that exact same tone from a porn you watched the other day.

“a natural,” dick laughed, stroking your hair back and you’ve never see him so affectionate—loving, as he doted on you. “try it on peter. more touching though, if you’re okay with that.”

you nodded and turned your head, meeting peter’s gaze with a flushed smile, your lips slightly swollen from your previous endeavor. “I’m okay with that.”

“me too.” peter smiled, only softening when you leaned in, and it completed hid against you when you captured his smile with a kiss. 

his hand gently placed on the back of your head when you did and he pulled you closer into him, returning the kiss, and spilling his breath into yours, while at the same time, drawing yours out. “rub my chest, i like it when people do that.” peter whispered in between each kiss.

you do as you were told, a gentle hand to peter’s broad chest, and you feel yourself tightening, satisfied with how intimate this all is as you felt the muscles on his chest through the fabric.

in the meantime, dick’s been squeezing at the bulge in his pants, containing his will to completely ravish you simply by watching the way you and peter made out. he’s always been observant, noticing the strong twitching of peter’s own erection, and soon yours when peter slid his tongue into your mouth. 

it was tantalizing—breath-taking— watching intimacy build up and vulnerabilities become unimaginably pliant before him. the pink muscles looped and swirled with one another, spreading and sharing sticky saliva until your mouth and peter’s were practically coated in it, glossed in sheen.

when peter pulled away, your lips were immediately stolen by dick again, kissing you with more strength than before, stubbornly refusing the chance for you to restock on oxygen as he wanted a taste of you too. the air became thicker, harder to breathe, but you basked in the taste, the wetness of dick’s tongue, and allowed yourself to become weak in his arms when he took you in, embraced you closely. “mmf...” you moaned out, breathing harder.

but just like dick, peter wasn’t finished with you, directing his tongue and lips to the back of your neck when you turned away. his ticklish and fleeting kisses pulled you back into peter’s arms, but dick noticed and pulled you forward: a stubborn game of gentle tug of war. 

they wanted you, every piece of you. it was telling as peter sucked into your neck, venomous and poisoning, and when dick began directing your hand under his shirt, allowing you to feel his toned stomach and chest, and eventually his clothed erection, making you squeeze around it with an open palm.

lessons have completely escaped to the back of minds, and all that remained was pure lust.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to.” dick reassured. though, ironically, his hand atop of yours, relieving the ache in his pants continued.

through swollen lips, you managed to mutter, distracted by peter’s bruising sucks to other areas of your neck and skin, whimpering when he bit a little too hard. “i did say teach me everything…” his hands were under your shirt now, warming your bare skin with his palms, excited, but fleeting as they immediately tied to the buttons of your shorts when you gave the okay.

“hey, hey,” dick laughed, watching the way peter has grown grandly impatient. “you’re going to scare him, horn dog.” he left a kiss on your lips, a quick one before leaning past you to kiss peter.

you watched in awe at what a kiss was supposed to be like: burning with ease and passion with every stroke of their lips, no hesitation at all—just a moment of time that they’ll remember. you backed into the bed and leaned against the headboard as they kissed at the foot. you don’t remember having your hand down your shorts, but you do, palming yourself to your own private show.

the kiss ran sloppy, drool dripping down either chins, stained with intimacy, and clothes were quickly tossed to the side, with no care in the world.

you followed.

even though you were similar height to peter, he was stronger—they both were. and now, you felt smaller as they climbed onto the bed, towards you, bare and hardened. you watched breathlessly, as their cocks swung heavy with heat. peter’s pre-cum dripped thickly in yearn for something to fuck, while dick’s throbbed for something to fill—a porn scene come to life—and you were left agape, jaw and legs.

“kinda surprised we’ve never done this sooner,” peter said, you weren’t used to his voice so low. kneeling on the bed, by your left hip, he took your hand and kissed the palm, the wrist of it, skimmed his lips over your forearm before guiding It toward his cock, aching for your touch. “though, was hoping i’d have you to myself, but…” gently, your hand was cradled to wrap around his shaft, warm and running with veins, it pulsed. “this works too.”

your chest rose with every spoken word, and peter has never looked hotter. taking control of you like that made your skin crawl, a spell that commanded you to move your hand back and forth, conjuring you to pump him in slow strokes.

contrary to his overall demeanor, his actions were of warmth. caresses to your head, doting on you with honey dripping from his gaze and cotton in touch while you sinned. 

you didn’t know where to look—to fall in love with the way peter gazed at you like a painting in a museum, or to salivate over the way his pre-cum leaked thickly over your hand when you squeeze it out of him, like a bottle of maple syrup.

that became more a problem—a dilemma—when you felt a wetness over your right nipple, then a sting when dick bites to get your attention—selfish and stubborn, like always. “are you sure this wasn’t a tactic to get all three of us in the same room? you seem comfortable.”

he tongued your nub, flicking back and forth to make you squirm, to hear the sound of your moans, to be the reason you have trouble sleeping at night. alongside, his palm ran over your body—chest first, down your stomach, and finally, your erect cock and balls.

you watched, breathless, continuing to stroke peter’s cock and he’d lean over to give you a few kisses here and there. for the most part, he was content like this, watching you squirm while maintaining to do the best to pleasure him.

“no, i swear- it’s just-“ dick played with your balls, squeezing and tugging on the tight sack to loosen them. every man was sensitive down there, you were no exception. “you guys made me feel safe, so…”

“well,” you looked up when peter spoke, his eyes fluttered shut, and you only got them to open when you thumbed the slit of his head, rubbing slick all over his glans, then the length of his cock when you continued stroking. “we are superheroes.”

you all laughed, switching gazes between the both of them, but it was dick’s mouth suddenly wrapping around you that made you concentrate only on him.

“oh, fuck…” warmth surrounded you, inhaled you in one shallow breath, before dick pulled you out of his wet mouth, taunting you with the loss of heat.

“it’s just like kissing,” he said, licking a stripe over the underside of your cock, tonguing his favorite spot: the neck of the glans and the frenulum. dick followed the lines of flesh with precision, leading the very tip of his tongue into the duct of your urethra—once again, tonguing it while his eyes focused on you, devious. “but let curiosity take you further and explore every part of their body.”

“m-mm…” you were sure there was meaning to his words, but they fell on deaf ears. instead, you focused on the ample heat that engulfed you again, moaning.

“every.” dick took you in and pulled you out with a pop.

“fuck-“ you breathed out, curling your toes into the sheets.

“part.” holding your cock up and stroking sloppily, he inhaled your ballsack. sweaty and musty, they must’ve been, but dick devoured the scent, the taste of sins with hungry sucks and licks—ardent and full of fervor.

and at the moment where you most expected to let out a moan, it was shoved down your throat when peter suddenly situated you in between his legs and filled your mouth with his thick cock, smelling of sweat and sex when you inhaled near his trimmed hairs.

“come on,” peter briefly pulled out, tapping the plump tip over your lips. “you learn best when you demonstrate what you’ve been taught.”

peter covered your view of dick, but you weren’t sure if you needed to see him because you felt every maneuver of dick’s tongue, now drowning your cock with his mouth while he continued assaulting your sensitive balls, tugging and squeezing. 

you looked up and peter never looked bigger, more intimidating, but it’s become your new addiction, and you take his cock, holding it thick and take in what you can. it was barely past the tip before you could feel yourself gagging, but with peter’s reassurance, you swallow more of him every time you went down, slicking him up with your spit.

“how’s he doing, pete?” your cock was left cold when dick pulled away to speak, but he made up for it with his hand, stroking his spit with your cock.

“he really is a natural.” peter chuckled, watching you with a scrunched face of pleasure whenever you pulled him deeper into your mouth. almost down your throat now, but he pulled his cock back completely before you can fully take him. “you try.”

“fuck, yes.” dick leaped over and used the spit from your length earlier to lube his own cock, spitting in his palm and stroking when it wasn’t slicked to his likening while peter scooted back to kneeling at your side, stroking himself now.

as your head was positioned in between both their cocks, dick’s was bigger, thicker—a mouth stretcher you’d imagine. but peter’s was longer, veinier, and the only thing they had in common was that their balls hung loose. in porn terms, hung like a horse. 

and on this very day, you considered yourself a lucky man because you have no objection to either, no will to pick and choose.

“look at you,” dick’s voice was rugged, deep, and he pushed his cock past your swollen lips. there was a clear difference in girth. your mouth was stretched wide, and you could only hum a sound of satisfaction, even with the slight sting from the stretch of skin. “who knew you’d be such a cock lover, hm?” 

“he can’t get enough of it, god…” peter was in awe, salivating and stroking quicker at the sight.

two hands kept dick’s cock still in your mouth while you sucked on the bulbous tip like a lollipop. the rest of your hands stroked whatever you couldn’t mange to fit in your mouth. you were apologetic at first, but dick’s smirk told a simple story of his ego, clearly aroused by the size of his own cock as it only grew wider when you struggled downing him, gagging with a whimper.

“come on… (m/n), you can do better than that. you were so good at sucking peter off, kissing us too. what happened?” dick pulled away to stroke himself with your spit, but he quickly buried any excuses into your throat when he pushed himself into your mouth.

“you’re too comfortable now, (m/n). you’re slacking…” peter joined the banter, and when dick pulled out of your mouth, peter’s cock replaced the loss of warmth to your surprise.

holy shit, this is happening.

like a see-saw, the two men alternated in filling your mouth, stuffing saliva further and further down your throat, without allowing a single excuse from you to escape. it’s buried now, deep in the pit of your stomach, and all you can do was be the prodigy that they wished for you to be.

when it was dick’s turn to stretch your mouth, you made sure that peter’s cock wasn’t left abandoned, stroking him with distracted strokes, and vice versa when it was his turn at your throat. you overworked yourself in pleasuring your two best friends, making sure they were satisfied with you, with your mouth as you took more of them without a single plea for a break.

“fuck, there we go…” occasionally, dick would take control by holding the back of your head and fucking inside of your tight mouth. drool leaked down either corners of your mouth while you let him, tears brimming in your eyes when your throat tightened again, a familiar feeling that dick encouraged to hold back. “there’s my star. taking cock like a good student.” 

if there was one thing that these very brief lessons have taught you, you were exactly what they named you: a cock lover. you slurped at whatever—whoever—entered your mouth absentmindedly, spat on cocks that have begun to look more or less the same, because it was dizzying now. your cock was left alone, but it stood tall and proud, throbbing as the two men harassed your face and mouth with their erections. one would gag you while the other had his balls shoved to your face and nose, sliding its wet, dirty slick all over your skin, staining you with lust.

it alternated like this for a while, and you were content, so was dick and peter. but you needed more—something to fill you elsewhere that wasn’t your dirty mouth. and you pleaded with your eyes, looking up at your best friends with delighted tears, a mouthful of cock, and a gaze only a cock loving whore could have—and they recognized it. 

peter was reluctant to pull away, he was so close. but he’s always been selfless. he released his hold on you and it was a struggle to pull you away, but he did with your lips suctioning off with a quiet pop. a thick string of spit that once connected between your lips and peter’s cock laid like webs on your chin, cooling as you watched the two men reposition themselves.

“i’m going to assume we don’t need a lesson in how to finger yourself, hm?” dick whispered against your swollen lips and kissed you again. you were entranced under his tongue, swirling all over yours like ocean waves while you touched yourself to his licks. you twisted and pinched your nipples, tugged on them with the occasional help from dick, then stroked your cock while dick continued from peter’s original trail of bruising kisses to mark his own territory on your body. you were as horny as they were, if not hornier, and you needed them inside of you, in any way possible.

“fuck, i need you guys so bad.” breathless in your moans, your legs squirmed when you felt something wet between your thighs when they were raised, peter’s nice girth sliding in between the plump skin. 

he thrusted himself slow and steady while he worked on your hole, reaching down to prepare you with his lubed digits, one by one. you’ve done this before, they were surely aware, so it wasn’t a unit that was particularly focused.

in between preparation, your mouth remained on dick’s cock again, delivering him your fullest attention with several lathers of your tongue, sucking hard and hollow, deep into your throat. you remember what he taught you and occasionally stuffed your mouth with his balls, sucking on the weight and letting go with a pull because you got off on seeing how they tensed and jiggled when you did.

“i’ll go slow.” peter leaned in with your legs hooked over his shoulders, bending you back, and kissing the tip of your nose when he was close enough to your face. “tell me if you want to stop.”

once you nodded, allowing him the will to deliver on his promise, peter made sure to lube himself up once more before pushing inside of you, slow and steady. he was careful, watching your face as it scrunched when the head slid in—burned when the rest of him filled you to the brim.

it was almost like you couldn’t breathe. it was too much, to be bearing all of this pain alone, but at the same time, you held peter close, wrapped your arms around him to prevent him from leaving you while you buried tiny whimpers into his neck, because you don’t want to stop feeling it, so full and devoured. it was written all over their faces when you glanced at them—they didn’t want to stop either. 

peter and dick decorated your skin in wet kisses, distracting you from the pain while peter began to find a rhythm. although slow, you were beginning to familiarize yourself with this pain. soon after, pleasure, when he struck something inside of you, a certain spot.

“oh- peter, right there, fuck.” your legged tightened around him and the sweat from your thighs rolled back onto your stomach when peter re-adjusted himself to fuck you at a higher angle, folding you onto your back. 

“yeah? right here?” peter thrusted into that spot dead-on, like a dart to a bullseye, and you groaned, your throat aching in pleasure, but dick pacified it with his cock again, filling you up once more. “oh fuck, look at you. all of your holes are filled up, fuck… so fucking tight”

“baby, you’re doing a great job, god…” your heart beat when dick called you that. it was always something he said as a joke when he arrived to your place. honey, darling, you name it, but the fact that it came out so genuine, it made your skin flush red and you could only respond in moans while you sucked him off. “i think he likes it when you fuck him like that, pete.”

for the first time, you felt wanted. 

peter’s thrusts were hard and strong, his balls swung into with every rhythm. you can see the muscles in his thighs flexing whenever he pounded down into your tight hole, your bodies colliding like waves to a rock. it stung whenever his skin slapped into yours, sweaty and musky, but the sinful sounds were well-worth the prize as you basked in them, in the taste of dick’s cock, the sound of peter’s grunts, the flutter of dick’s eyes when you gargled his cock again, deeper, the sweat dripping from peter’s forehead and body—the bedroom hailed of sex. it rocked of brutal creaks and slams as both of your holes were violated and filled to the very brim, all driven by pure lust. 

after some time, they switched spots, tag-teaming so dick can have his turn at your hole. unlike peter, he was rougher, immediately pounding into you because he was sex-crazed about you, couldn’t stop thinking about you since day one of meeting you.

“fuck, better than i’ve ever imagined,” he laughed into your mouth, kissing you sloppily, and pulling away when peter’s cock impatiently wedged himself in between the kiss, and you were back to sucking and jerking off cock again—no complaints. “still so tight, even after peter fucked you so hard…”

“it’s like he was made to be a whore, right?” such vulgar language from your best friends broke the original portrayal you had of them. now, all you could think about was how they wanted to absolutely make a wreck out of you, de-blossom your naive thoughts of what your first time should’ve been like.

it wasn’t what you had imagined. it was supposed to be with one person. a full-time commitment to your relationship. a loving pair holding each other close when they both climax. it was going to be special.

but this… you thought to yourself as you were fucked into the bedsheets with absolutely no mercy, your ass pained and bruised from dick’s muscular hips driving into you every time he came down, harassing you in that familiar spot again.

this was… peter pushed on your bottom lip with two fingers to open your mouth, then spitting in the void, some catching onto your tongue, before shoving his swollen cock inside of you again, aching to touch—to fuck.

dick palmed your cock as you writhed, bent under him, moaned around peter’s long cock. he gathered all of his strength left to tickle you deep, to reach inside of you with his cock, breathless and panting with every thrust that rocked the two of you together—three, when peter fucked into your mouth. 

this was so much fucking better. 

“holy shit-“ under dick’s touch, you came hard in several thick ropes, all over his fist, and then the sweat of your body when he opened his palm. you were a natural shooter, accidentally spraying your face with your own thick semen, and you heard peter and dick moan in unison, in awe.

seeing you dressed in cum like this had them race each other to their climax. dick fucked you harder, his grasp on your hips bruising and white, while peter held onto your head and met your throat with his cock, repeatedly forceful in strength. you gagged around him, and they only benefitted from every sound you made.

“fuck, i’m going to-“ you watched peter’s abs flexed, tightened as his stomach pooled with pleasure, and you can hear the holy bells ring when he pulled out of your mouth, jerking his wet and slimy cock off until he came undone in thick spurts, all over your pretty face. not a single shot was missed, painting you in white like a canvas with every last drop.

you were still high off of your own orgasm, and you turned your head to watch dick fuck himself into you, clearly wonder-strucked by the scene before him. you were covered in cum all over. they beckoned him to join, the many loads on your body. they were begging now, a mantra of pleas pulled him closer to you, and he can smell the sex off of you, inhaled peter’s musk as well, and again—those holy bells rang.

with the speed of lightning, dick pulled himself out of your abused hole and climbed over to kneel over your chest, fucking into his fist while simultaneously jerking his cock off over your face. to your cum-covered body, to peter kissing his spunk off your cheek and chin then your lips, to the taste of your own cum when you swiped a load off your chest and fed it into dick’s mouth. he suckled, bittersweet salt spread over his tongue, and he was ravished by the taste of you. 

dick then pushed his hips out and aimed his cock over your lips, still connected to peter’s for a messy kiss, stroking until the only reason he tore his gaze away was because his lids fell heavy, ceased his sight to roll his eyes back, and came with a shudder. thick ropes of cum inked on your face and peter’s, but most of it fell to your connected lips. 

“fuck, that’s hot…” dick muttered, rolling his shoulders back while he milked himself to you and peter making out, cum-stained and all. you moaned at the taste, saltier than yours and peter’s, and peter does the same while scraping a load of warm cum from the corner of your cheek and into his mouth before kissing you again, swapping the gloopy residue with a sloppy exchange of tongues.

he was envious, watching how the sticky load caught onto your lips then peter’s when he squeezed himself dry. before you and peter could take all of his cum for yourself, he leaned down to join peter for a kiss, stealing the mound of cum that peter has expertly hidden on his tongue. dick didn’t know who he was tasting anymore. but whether it was you, peter, or himself, it was delectable, and he wanted to share the delightful taste with you. he spat the mixture of cum and spit inside of your mouth before webbing his lips to yours, sealing it with one final breathless kiss.

“so, are lessons still on for next week or?” peter lay by your side, and dick joined the other, still dizzied from his high as telling by his shut eyes and drawn out pants. 

“i mean… i’m still up for it if you guys are?” you said, leaning over to press a kiss to peter’s cheek. you took his smile as an answer and looked to dick for his.

“mm... yeah.” dick sleepily opened his eyes, his locks stuck to his sweaty forehead while he buried himself under the blanket. you felt his arms wrap around your waist once he got comfortable, muttering a kiss to your shoulder before dozing off. 

“we’re good teachers, pete.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[waitimcomingtoo]

And I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you overhear Peter denying that he likes you so you go out with another guy, leaving him to crash your date and tell you how he feels

Masterlist

“At what point does the staring because you’re pining for your friend become staring because you’re a stalker and planing on wearing her hair as a wig?” Ned asked after following Peter’s gaze and seeing he was once again staring at you from across the cafeteria.

“I don’t know. I think when I start wearing baseball caps and standing outside her window with binoculars.” Peter sighed happily and rested his chin in his hand as he continued to stare.

“But, it’s not gonna get to that point though, right?” Ned laughed nervously.

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “She lives on a pretty high floor.”

“That’s not the answer I wanted.” Ned said quietly.

“I had a dream last night that I asked her out and she said “I’ll see you at 8” without ever telling me where we were meeting just like in the movies.” Peter said proudly.

“You should not be proud of that. Why don’t you just ask her out with your out loud words for once?” Ned asked him.

“Because the dynamic of our friendship will be-“

“-forever altered past the point of repair and things will eventually return to normal but never feel the same.” Ned groaned as ge finished Peter’s sentence. “Yes, I know. Thats always your excuse. But I really don’t think she’ll say no.”

“You don’t know that.” Peter insisted. “I can’t risk it.”

“Peter, it’s so obvious you guys like each other. She always laughs at your jokes and nobody, and I mean nobody, finds you funny. And I know you like her back because you stare at her all the time and got goosebumps that one time her ponytail hit you in the face.”

“It smelled like freedom and prosperity.” Peter whispered.

“So ask her out and smell her ponytail all the time.” Ned whispered back.

“I just can’t, okay? And I don’t even like her like that. So stop bringing it up.” Peter said and looked over at you again. He watched you leave a group of friends and walk over to him and Ned.

“But you guys obviously want to be together so why don’t you just be together?” Ned asked him.

“Because I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me, okay? That’s that.” Peter whispered harshly just as you sat down at their table.

“Hey guys. I’m pretty sure I just got a veinte out of one hundred on my Spanish quiz so.” You sighed and dropped your backpack on the table.

“Hi.” Peter’s blushed and smiled at you. Your bad mood quickly eviscerated and you smiled back.

“Hi Peter.”

“If you want, I can help you study for your next Spanish quiz. I took it last semester and did fairly bien.” Peter offered.

“Really?” You lit up. “Thanks, Pete. That would be so bien of you.”

“No problemo.” Peter said back.

“This feels…racist.” Ned mumbled as he watched the interaction.

“I, uh, I watched that movie you were talking about the other day.“ You told Peter with a nervous smile.

“You watched Alien? Did you like it?” Peter asked excitedly.

“I did but it made me kinda paranoid about, you know, aliens. But I liked the part when the alien came out of the guys chest. I never realized that scene was from that movie. I felt like I was finally in on the film bros inside jokes.”

“Yeah. I like that part too. I also like the part when he swam up the filters motor and stuck that pebble in there so the tank would get dirty and have to be cleaned, giving all the other fish a chance to escape.” Peter replied. It took you a minute to get it but when you did, you burst out laughing. Peter blushed at how hard you were laughing at his joke while Ned watched the interaction in disgust.

“That was not funny.” Ned shook his head. “Not even a little bit. It was a little criminal actually.”

“What? Yes it was. Peters always funny.” You insisted.

“Isn’t he though?” Ned faked a smile before rolling his eyes.

“Hey, back off. I liked the joke.” You defended Peter, making his blush deepen.

“Thank you. I like your jokes too.” Peter told you.

“Ugh.” Ned groaned. “This is revolting to watch. Why don’t you guys just get married already?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” You said. “We’d get a tax break, right? Whatever that means.”

“It’s when they break your taxes in half.” Peter answered.

“Oh, is that it?” You laughed. “Sounds about right.”

“I know because I took that accounting class freshman year. You weren’t in that class so you wouldn’t know.” He teased you.

“Hm. Is that the class they cancelled because not enough people signed up?” You teased back.

“Yep. That one.” He nodded. “Wow. The memory on you. You’d be an excellent gatherer if this was Hunter gatherer times.”

“Aw, Peter. That’s the nicest thing a guys ever said to me.” You smiled and touched your heart.

“If you liked that compliment I have like eight more in the chamber ready to go.” Peter told you.

“Oh my God. Just make out already. But not in front of my clementine.” Ned grumbled and peeled his clementine. You and Peter fell silent at his exclamation. Peter’s face burned with embarrassment while you avoided eye contact with either of them.

“I’m gonna go refill my water bottle. I’ll be right back.” You smiled awkwardly and quickly left the table.

“Nice job, Ned.” Peter hugged. “You just made her so uncomfortable she went to fill up a full water bottle.”

“I told you, dude. She obviously likes you. I was just pointing out the obvious.” Ned defended himself.

“She doesn’t like me.” Peter insisted.

“Are you kidding me? You just made a Finding Nemo joke and she actually laughed. Not even fake laugh. That was a genuine belly laugh at the worst joke I have ever had the misfortune of hearing. She’s down horrendous for you.”

“No, she’s not. She just sees me as a friend. And I don’t even like her like that so it doesn’t matter.” Peter lied in an effort to change the subject.

“You can’t hide the truth from your best friend. I see right through your lies. You like her. I know it and you know it. Why can’t she know it?” Ned asked.

“I told you to stop bringing it up.” Peter grumbled, growing frustrated now. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to bring this up but it was happening more than usual lately and all it did was remind Peter that you’d never be together.

“But-“

“I don’t like her, okay? I never did. I don’t think she’s pretty, I don’t find her funny, and I don’t want to be her boyfriend. I don’t know why you don’t believe me. I swear, I do not like her like that. I never have, and I never will. Okay?” Peter snapped. Little did he know, you had come back to the table and heard his whole outburst. You blinked a few times as your stomach sank but put on a brave face and sat down.

“I’m back.” You forced a smiled but didn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Peter’s eyes widened when you sat down and he looked at Ned.

“How much of that did you hear?” Peter asked you.

“How much of what?” You played dumb. You had to pretend you weren’t crushed that the boy you’d been pining after for years just very aggressively confirmed he didn’t like you.

“Nothing.” Peter lied and exchanged another look with Ned. Ned shrugged before changing the subject to move away from the moment entirely. You pretended to listen as you tried your best not to look as disappointed as you felt.

Once your break was over, you left the cafeteria and went for a walk around campus to clear your head. You ended up on a bench and sat down before taking a big sigh. You hadn’t noticed the guy that was sitting on the other end of the bench, but he certainly noticed you.

“Hey.” He said. You looked around for who he was talking to but found no one.

“Me, hey?” You asked and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah. You, hey.” He smiled and nodded his head.

“Oh. Hey.” You smiled back.

“I’m Drew.” He said.

“Y/n.” You said back.

“What’s the matter, Y/n? You look forlorn.”

“Oh, it’s stupid.” You waved your hand.

“Not to me. Tell me about it.” He insisted and scooted closer to you. You looked down at the lessened space between the two of you and laughed shyly.

“It’s nothing. I just overheard my friends talking about me.” You told him.

“Oh shit. Was it bad?”

“Not necessarily. But it didn’t make me feel good.”

“Damn. That sucks.” Drew said. You nodded in agreement and an awkward silence fell between you.

“I like that shirt.” He said suddenly and nodded towards your shirt.

“Oh, thanks. I borrowed it from a girl I didn’t even talk to anymore.” You replied as you pulled on the shirt.

“Finders keepers.” He shrugged. “You should wear it when I take you out.”

“Why would I wear a shirt you’ve already seen when we go out?” You laughed.

“So we’re going out?” Drew smiled.

“I guess we are.” You shrugged and realized you had just agreed to a date.

“Cool. I’ll pick you up Friday.” Drew winked at you before getting off the bench. You smiled at the unexpected interaction before realizing you had not gotten a single detail.

“Wait, pick me up where?” You called after him, but he was already gone. You slumped back in your seat on the bench and felt an equal mix of confusion and excitement. Maybe this new guy was exactly what you needed to forget about Peter.

The next day, you sat with Peter and Ned at your usual spot in the lunch room but barely paid attention to their conversation. Drew had found you on Instagram and you’d been talking to him all day. Peter had noticed your thumbs flying around your keyboard and the smile on your face and felt curious and ever so slightly jealous about who was making you smile like that.

“Is that good with you Y/n?” Ned asked you.

“Sorry, what?” You asked and put your phone down.

“We were saying we were gonna get chicken wings and watch the Trixi Mattel documentary.” Peter informed you.

“Again? And I can’t Friday.” You told them.

“Why not?” Peter asked.

“I have a date.”

Ned and Peter exchanged a looked before started to speak at the same time. They both stumbled over their words and spoke over each other as they gave you all their thoughts and opinions on why you should not go on this date. You tried to cut in but Ned kept listing Criminal Minds plot lines where women were murdered while Peter asked question after question about the guy.

“Slow down. One at a time.” You shouted over them and they both went silent. You pointed to Ned to signal that it was his turn to talk.

“You have a date? With a human boy?” Ned asked in disgust.

“Yeah. Is that surprising?” You asked, sounding a little hurt that they were so shocked.

“No.” Peter replied and looked at Ned to signal for him to say the same so that you wouldn’t be offended.

“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Ned.” Peter said warningly.

“His name is Drew.” You shrugged.

“Drew? What’s his brothers name, draw? Stupid fucking past tense ass bullshit name.” Ned grumbled.

“Jesus Ned.” You laughed. “It’s a normal name. It’s short for Andrew.”

“Andrew?” Peter scoffed. “What is he, an apostle?”

“I don’t think there was an apostle named. Andrew.” You stated. “I think they were all named Mark. And like, John or something.”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” Peter waved his hand. “Why are you going on a date with this potential psychopath?”

“Because asked me on a date.” You said simply.

“And you said yes? When we don’t even know this guy. What if he’s into hardcore drugs and wants to use you as a drug mule for his next big drug operation?“

“He seemed fine.” You shrugged.

“So you’re gonna risk your life going on a date with this lunatic because he “seemed” fine? What if he’s a cannibal?” Ned asked.

“I don’t think he’s a cannibal. He was just sitting on a bench on his phone.”

“Oh my God. He sounds completely insane. Check the sex offender registry for his name right now.” Ned instructed Peter. Peter started typing his name into his laptop so you shut Peter’s laptop with a roll of your eyes.

“Why are you guys being insane? I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“I’m about to end my life over this.” Peter mumbled.

“Me too.” Ned added. “What even spurred this reckless decision?”

“I don’t know. A guy hasn’t shown interest in me in a while. This guy did so I took a chance. Is it really that crazy?”

“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “You’re ludicrous for this. You are absolutely Pitbull featuring Ludacris for this. Saying yes to a date with a stranger. This girl has lost her damn mind.”

“How else do you meet people?” You asked them.

“You don’t.” Peter said a sarcastic laugh. you threw your hands up in exasperation and Peter and Ned exchanged a look.

“What he means is, you should try asking a friend out. That way, you already know them and know you won’t get diced and quartered into a bunch of little pieces.” Ned said kindly.

“Why would he dice me and quarter me? Wouldn’t one or the either be enough?” You asked.

“Probably not for this lunatic.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous to suggest.

“I think you guys are over reacting. What if he’s just a nice guy wants to take me on a date?”

“No guy wants that.” Ned groaned.

“Wow. Thanks Ned.” You said sarcastically.

“What I meant was, Peter has something to say.” Ned said and pointed to Peter. Peter turned bright red and gave Ned an angry look.

“You do?” You asked Peter.

“No?” Peter replied.

“Right.” You smiled tightly and looked away from him, making Peter know he blew it.

“Where is the date?” Ned asked.

“I don’t know. Some frat house. He said his friend is having a party and he wants to take me.”

“A party? At a frat house? With underage drinking? Oh great. So this guy is a law breaker. He probably has an extensive criminal record already. And I bet it’s for the drug mule thing.” Ned insisted.

“We’re all 21. You literally turned 22 last week.” You reminded him.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation.” Ned brushed you off.

“What kind of first date is a party anyway? A girl like you deserves to be taken on a nice, well thought out date that doesn’t involve getting drunk around strangers. If I was the one taking you on a date, I’d make a picnic of your favorite snacks and we’d eat it on the rooftop of my apartment while the sun sets.” Peter stated.

“But you’re not the one taking me on a date. He is. He likes me, you don’t.” You said sharply, making everyone fall silent. You hadn’t meant to snap at Peter like that but it bothered you that he was aggressively putting down your date after rejecting you.

“What? Am I wrong?” You asked the table.

“Peter.” Ned whispered but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. You looked at Peter again but he just couldn’t do it.

“No. You’re not wrong.” He said quietly. You nodded your head like you expected that before getting up from the table.

“I just wanted my friends to tell me they were happy for me. Instead, we just had one of the weirdest and least encouraging conversations I’ve ever been an apart of. I’ll see you guys later.” You grumbled and walked away.

“That went well.” Ned said once you were gone.

“She definitely overheard me. I totally hurt her feelings and drove her right into the arms of that cannibal drug mule. Why did I say those things?” Peter asked and rubbed his face in frustration.

“I don’t know man. I would have stopped at “I don’t like her” but you really went off.” Ned agreed.

“Because you were annoying me with how much you were asking.” Peter whined. “Oh God. What am I gonna do now? Shes gonna go to that party and fall in love with draw and forget all about me.”

“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna find draw’s party and crash it. And you’re gonna woman up and tell her how you feel.”

“How are we gonna find his party? We’re not exactly good at attending parties.”

“I have my sources.” Ned smiled deviously.

“You’re just track her location on snap maps, aren’t you?” Peter sighed.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna track her on snap maps.” Ned admitted.

When Friday came around, Peter and Ned were glued to their phones as the tried to find out where you were. Luckily for them, you had been posting a plethora of pictures of the party to your Snapchat so they easily found where you were. Unlucky for Peter, Drew was featured in all of the pictures and you looked like you were having the time of your life. Peter swallowed down his jealousy and got dressed to go to the party. He rehearsed his speech for you in his head as he made his way through the crowd. He finally found you in the kitchen in the arms of a girl he didn’t recognize. Your eyes lit up when you saw him and you tried to go towards him but immediately tripped over your over feet.

“Peter!” You cheered and threw your arms around him. The girl who had been holding you let go of your waist while Peter looked at her in confusion. You stumbled into Peter and had a hard time keeping yourself up straight

“You know her?” The girl asked Peter.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend. What’s going on? Who are you? And where’s draw?”

“I’m Serita. I found her all by herself. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Well if it isn’t Peter Peter pumpkin eater. He actually doesn’t even like pumpkin flavored things. He doesn’t like me either. He made that very clear.” You laughed and clapped Serita on the back. Serita looked at Peter in amusement but he was too focused on how drunk you were.

“Are you drunk?” Peter asked in shock.

“What? No.” You scoffed and nearly fell over.

“She’s wasted.” Serita told him. “I got her to drink some water by telling her it was a big shot of vodka.”

“I’m just here to feel the heat with somebody.” You said and held your hands up in defense.

“I’ve never seen you drink this much. What happened?” Peter asked you.

“Psh. I’m not as think as you drunk I am.” You denied the obvious with a wave of your hand. The action caused you to stumble again and you had to grip Peter’s shirt to keep from going down.

“You can’t even stand up straight. Where’s draw?” Peter asked again and looked around the room for your date.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he left with that pretty red headed girl from our statistics class sophmore year. With that teacher who had that cat with a silly name. Remember him? What was the cats name?”

“Kitty puss.” Peter reluctantly admitted.

“Kitty puss!” You cheered again and nearly dropped to the floor.

“I got you.” Peter said and tightened his grip on you. “But if he’s on on a date with you then why did he leave with another girl?”

“Because he didn’t get what he wanted from this girl?” You shrugged with a sad smile. Peter’s eyes darkened and he looked at Serita with a clenched jaw.

“What did he want?” He asked her.

“To get her drunk enough to lower her standards.” Serita stated. “That’s what he does to all the undergrad girls on this campus. Or at least, he tries to. Girls his age know better and stay away from him. But unfortunately for your best friend here, she didn’t know about his reputation.”

“Sterling Knight should have had a bigger career after Starstruck. He was funny and could sing. I never found him all that handsome but he had star power. He deserved more from Disney and I’ll die on that hill.” You interrupted their conversation to say.

“That’s nice, sweetie.” Peter smiled kindly at you before looking at Serita again. “I’m gonna take her to the bathroom and try to sober her up. Thanks for taking care of her. I’m glad she had a friend here.”

“Oh, I don’t know this girl. I just noticed she needed someone and stayed with her.” Serita explained. Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise before giving her a grateful smile.

“Oh. Well thanks for noticing. I got it from here.” He said before picking you up bridal style. You laughed gleefully and wrapped your arms around his neck, making Peter turn red again. Serita noticed this and stopped him.

“Hold on. How do I know I can trust you with her?” Serita asked. “What if you don’t even know her and you’re just trying to do what Drew was trying to do?”

“I promise I know her. Look. She’s my lock screen.” Peter said and showed Serita his lock screen which was a photo of the two of you.

“Best friend, huh?” Serita smirked.

“Please.” Peter whined. “I can’t hear it from you too. I’m an idiot and I know that. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“Well good luck. She’s been talking about “my Peter” all night.” Serita patted his back before walking away. Peter smiled at that before carrying you to the bathroom.

“Is this how Lady Gaga felt at the 2011 Grammys when they carried her in in that giant egg?” You asked as you rested your head on Peter’s shoulder.

“We will never know how Lady Gaga felt while being carried in a giant egg at the 2011 Grammys. You’re just being carried by your idiot friend to a disgusting frat bathroom that probably has salmonella and syphilis all over it.”

“Romantic.” You chuckled and held Peter tighter. He shut the bathroom door behind the two of you before gently putting you down on the countertop. He started rummaging through the medicine cabinet while you swung your legs.

“My tummy hurts.” You whined.

“I know. Take this.” Peter instructed and handed you Tylenol.

“Magic beans?”

“Tylenol. Drink this.” He chuckled and handed you back the cup of water from Serita. You chugged the water with the pills and wiped your mouth before giving Peter a sad smile.

“How do you feel? Do you need to puke?”

“No.” You shook your head. That action made you nauseous and you hopped off the counter to throw up into the toilet.

“I had a feeling that was gonna happen.” Peter mumbled.

“Don’t tell Kitty Puss about what a wreck I am.” You pleaded and threw up again.

“I won’t.” Peter laughed and held your hair back.

“I’m gonna die.” You whined and slumped against the bathtub. Peter sat down beside you and got the hair out of your face.

“You’re not gonna die.” He assured you. “You’re just gonna have really bad breath and carpet burn on your knees.”

“I hate carpet burn.” You said and started to cry. Peter had a feeling the tears weren’t just from the carpet burn so he wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s okay. Let it all out.” He said softly as he rubbed his hand on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder for a minute before pulling away. He grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped your tears for you.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly as you stared down at your lap.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For going on this date.”

“No. I don’t want to hear that. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Peter shook his head as he continued to dry your eyes. You pushed your hand away and held it so he would look at you.

“I do. I only went because I was mad at you. And I posted all those things because I wanted you to think I was having fun with another guy. But I wasn’t having fun. I was thinking about you the entire night.”

“Well you fooled me.” Peter chucked. “I thought you were halfway in love with this guy already. But why were you mad at me?”

“I heard you the other day. I heard you tell Ned you didn’t like me.” You admitted and gave him a sad smile.

“Oh, that’s not-“

“And it’s fine.” You cut him off. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you over that. It’s not your fault you don’t like me. We can’t help what we don’t feel.”

Peter stared into your eyes and saw a sadness he’d never seen you show before. You had sobered up a little but still weren’t completely there. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wanted you to be sober enough to remember it.

“So what happened to your date?” He changed the subject. You gave Peter a sad smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“He wasn’t much of a gentleman.” You admitted. Peters jaw clenched but he tried to remain calm for you same.

“Why do you say that?”

“I kept trying to talk to him and get to know him but all he wanted to do was get drunk. So I kept drinking whatever he handed me because I thought that would make me a more “fun” date.” You told him. You looked down at your dress and nervously fiddled with the hem of it. Peter stayed silent as he watched your eyes fill up with tears.

“I got all dressed up. I did my hair and my makeup. I tried to look pretty for him.” You said sadly. “But he didn’t even compliment me when he saw me. And he didn’t laugh at any of my jokes. I kept feeling like I was annoying him any time I asked him a question. But I was just trying to get to know him.“

“Well he’s crazy for not complimenting you. Because you look very pretty tonight.”

“Oh, please. My makeup’s running down my face and I probably have puke on my dress.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still the prettiest girl in this room.” Peter told you.

“I’m the only girl in this room.” You reminded him and pointed to the bathroom wall.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the prettiest girl in any room you’re in.” Peter stated. That brought a smile out of you and you slipped your hand into his.

“You’re sweet.” You smiled in appreciation and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter squeezed you back before getting the hair off your forehead. You leaned into his hand and looked into his eyes.

“What happened tonight?“ He asked quietly.

“Well, once I was drunk enough for Drew’s liking, he asked me to go up to one of the bedrooms with him. I went because I thought it was because he wanted a more private place to talk. I thought he wanted to hear what I had to say. Imagine that? Imagine your date being interesting in something you had to say? But he didn’t care about that. He didn’t want to talk.” You laughed sadly before looking down at the floor with a heavy sadness.

“What did he want?” Peter asked and braced himself. You looked up and met Peter’s eyes with a sad smile.

“You know what he wanted.” You said softly. Peter gulped and nodded his head so you wouldn’t have to relive it. You let out a sigh and wiped your tears on the back of your hand.

“He didn’t even kiss me.” You laughed sadly. “He just shut the door and tried to unzip my dress. I pushed him away and yelled at him, and then he got upset that I was upset so he left me in there. I was too drunk to go after him so I just sat there for a while in the dark. By the time I came back down to the party, he was already making out with another girl.”

“What’s this guys problem? He got to take the most incredible girl in this city on a date and he blows it in every way possible? He’d be lucky to talk to you, let alone go out on a date with you. How could he not see what a privilege he had just to be near you?” Peter said with genuine anger.

“Thanks, Pete.” You chuckled and felt slightly better about the night. Peter was about to go off more until he saw the look on your face. You didn’t need to hear Peter’s gripe right now. You needed comfort.

“Should we kill him?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“I think so. Serita told me he’s got a bit of a reputation for this kind of thing. I had no idea.”

“I can’t believe Ned was right and this guy really was insane.” Peter said, making you laugh.

“I know. I guess this means we should listen to him more.” You laughed. Peter smiled at you before scooping you up again and kicking the door open.

“Woah. Where are we going?” You asked as he carried you straight out of the party.

“On a real date.” He replied and you fell silent. He carried you all the way to his apartment building and swung up to the roof.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and he slipped out of his button down. He draped it over your shoulders to keep you warm before racing downstairs.

When he returned, he had a picnic blanket, his portable Death Star night light, a lunchables pizza, and two bottles of water. You smiled as he laid the picnic blanket down before patted the space beside him. You sat down and he wrapped a blanket from his bed around the both of you. You cracked open your water bottle and downed it while he put together the lunchables. He handed you one of the pizzas and you did cheers before silently eating them as the sun began to rise.

“Are you enjoying your meal, madam?” Peter looked away from the sunrise to ask you.

“Why, yes I am. This is one of the finer lunchables I’ve ever eaten. Compliments to the chef.” You played along.

“The chef thanks you kindly.” Peter replied and you both laughed.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you for a minute as you watched the sky become pink. Peter looked over at you and felt his heart ache over the way the sun was lighting up your face with a warm glow. You were holding your blanket tightly around your body to shield yourself from the morning air and had your eyes shut to let the night wash away from you. Peter knew in that moment he was in love and it could not be unspoken any longer.

“So, uh, remember when we were in the bathroom before and you said we should listen to Ned more?” Peter began.

“That doesn’t sound like something I would say. But I guess so. Why?” You wondered and looked over at him. Peter looked you in the eyes and gulped.

“Ned was actually right about a second thing.”

“Two things? Is he going for a personal record?” You laughed. When you saw that Peter wasn’t laughing, you stopped smiling.

“What is it, Pete? Something bad?”

“No. Not bad. Just, um, just a little clarification, I guess.” Peter began.

“Clarification about what?”

“I know you heard me telling Ned that I didn’t like you. And I know that it hurt your feelings. Which I totally understand why it would. It was overkill. But what you overheard the was my frustrated attempt to get Ned to stop insisting that I liked you.”

“Oh. Okay.” You said slowly and never took your eyes off him. Peter stared into your eyes for the last time before everything changed.

“And the only reason he keeps insisting that is because it’s true. He was trying to get me to tell you how I felt and I snapped at him because I was scared that if I ever did tell you how I felt, you wouldn’t feel the same.” Peter finished. You stared at him for a long time but Peter couldn’t read your expression. You were definitely pensive but he didn’t know if you were upset with him or relieved to know the truth. You turned your face back towards the sunrise and stared out at it.

“Hm.” You hummed.

“Hm? That’s all you have to say?” Peter asked nervously.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about that part in the movie Alien when the two main characters get directions from that school of fish and all the fish take the shape of an arrow to show them which way to go.” You said very seriously. Peter shook his head before cracking up laughing.

“Wow. Ned must be on a roll because hearing my own joke repeated back to me makes me realize how unfunny it was.” He admitted, making you laughing.

“I still laughed.” You shrugged. “Even if it wasn’t funny.”

“You did.” He realized with a smile.

“Probably because I like you so much.” You shrugged again and stopped looking at the sunrise to look at him. Peters smile grew and he reached over to hand your hand in his. All that pining and anticipation had led to that moment of you finally admitted how you felt about each other.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Thats probably why.”

Tag list 🏷️

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[luveline]

hi jadey would you do something with r peeling an orange for peter even though he’s perfectly capable of doing it for himself but she wants to do acts of service for him ☹️🫶

There are some bad boyfriends out there. Guys who’d rather argue, who won’t walk their girls to the door, who never help with the dishes. There are losers who expect things after they pay for dinner, and never say please. 

Peter Parker is the polar opposite of all those men. Peter Parker gets home from a long day at work and a short shift as his crime-fighting alter ego and makes you a hot chocolate without asking how many marshmallows you want. “Hello,” he says, kissing you behind the ear as he comes around you from behind, the hot chocolate set carefully next to your laptop. “Did you hear me come in, or are you ignoring me?” 

The former, for sure. You beam to yourself and twist in his hold to meet his eyes, brown and wide where they take you in. “Hello!” you say, not shouting, but certainly not whispering either. “I never hear you. You’re a cheater.” 

“You have ears,” he says. 

“And I choose not to use them.” 

“You okay?” He gives your shoulder a concerned rub. When you nod, it turns to a quicker, softer patting. “Okay. I’m gonna make dinner, yeah? I’m starving.” 

He’s strange in that he says ‘starving’ like he’s excited about the feeling. You nod and he nods back, tangible affection in the air between you before he presses his nose to your forehead and leaves. 

You’re just a girl. You finish what you’d been working on as quickly as you can and close your laptop, sipping at the hot chocolate he’d made you with a smirk. Your boyfriend loves you a lot. He’s handsome and tall and smart but he fucking loves you; Peter comes home from a long day hungry and makes you a drink. 

“My love.” You push open the kitchen door. 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“I can make dinner.” 

“No, that’s fine. I’m making it.” 

“I can do it, Pete,” you say, putting your mug down on the counter. 

“I’m gonna do it,” he says, taking your hands, moving you out of the way of the fridge. His smile is as sugary as his eyes. “You have hot chocolate to drink. Before it’s cold chocolate.” 

“Boo.” You let him win reluctantly. He’s too strong, you argue to yourself smugly, he could totally take you in a fight. There’s never any winning with him. 

Peter turns the oven on and lights the stovetop, a frying pan on the heat, a square of butter melting in the centre. He cuts the veggies swiftly, asking question from over his shoulder. How was your day, babe? Did you eat enough? Did that headache come back? 

You lean on the counter and take a clementine from the fruit bowl. It was fine, you tell him, digging your fingers into the skin. Not much to say. I ate plenty. Headache stayed at home. The sharp citrus smell of torn pith hits the air as you peel the skin from the fruit's flesh. Then you spend a good five minutes taking off the stringy white bits as Peter fries your veggies with some leftover chicken from last night. 

“Here,” you say, breaking the clementine into pieces. 

“Oh, thank you,” he says, taking one from the well of your hand.

He eats it so fast you could argue he doesn’t taste it. 

“It’s for you, Peter,” you say, putting the rest of the clementine on the chopping board next to the carrot tops. “I’ll peel you another one. I know one’s not enough for you.” 

“Au contraire,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist, tugging you in, orange on his breath as you let him take your weight and move in. “You’re the only one for me.” 

“Terrible,” you murmur back. 

Peter’s grinning as he takes your face into his hand. He tips your head back, your heart fluttering just as much as it did the very first time he touched you like this, his eyes lit by a deep, unignorable sweetness for you. “Thank you,” he says. “You’re real nice to me, huh?” 

“Thank you for the hot chocolate.” 

“That wasn’t me. That was just sitting here when I got in.” 

You wrap your arm around his neck to close him in. “Sure it was.” 

“It was!” He kisses the corner of your mouth eagerly. Each word he says after is half smothered by the press of his lips on your cheek and the soft skin just below your eye as you laugh. “Wanna feed me as I stir? I think our dinner’s burning.” 

“If you keep kissing me, then yeah. I’ll peel every orange in that bowl for you.” 

Such a promise spurs another round of soft kisses. 

[hanasnx]

" GIVE ME THE SWEETEST GOODBYE THAT I EVER DID RECEIVE " — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: takes place during the events of the marvel's spider-man 2 game. WARNINGS: fem reader | established relationship | morning sex mention | mild exhibitionism | sex against a window.

"You forgot your lunch again." are words PETER PARKER has heard too many times. He spins in place, disengaging from his work to face you, his girlfriend, who so graciously conquered his paper bagged lunch and retrieved it for him like his knight-in-shining-armor.

"Knew I was forgetting something." he murmurs, receiving the sack from you and stealing a greeting kiss from your lips in the same motion.

"Yeah, you left in kind of a hurry this morning." you reply with an impish grin tugging at your lips, leaning your palms at the edge of his desk. You meet his eyes over your shoulder, noting his knowing smile.

He approaches you from behind, lowering his voice to speak in your ear. "Well, that's because someone wouldn't let me." The lunch crinkles as he sets it down, and he hesitates to return to his work when you're here clearly vying for some attention, bringing up this morning of all things...

"Oh, right, because it was all me." you retort sarcastically, breaking exchange of a look to spy on his monitor. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but the stuff Pete does has you at a loss. It's gibberish written across his screen that he no doubt understands and could teach a class on. The thought of his competency drifts your mind elsewhere to the more alluring traits he took on before he left for work. How curious his hands were traversing your body after waking up next to you, kneading your bare form under covers, tucking himself behind you with his morning wood until that confidence bought him some sleepy sex. You heat up, and bite your lip at the memory.

You snap out of your trance, and make more conversation before you excuse yourself so he can get back to work. "Where is everybody?" you ask, voicing your observation. Since you got in, you haven't seen anybody.

Peter pours some coffee into a paper cup, fixing it up how you like it. Steam rises past the rim as he stirs it, and he draws his hand up to suck some sweetness off of his index finger. Your chest jumps, the residual recollection of what it's like to be filled stings your insides. Shifting your weight from leg to leg gives you the subtlest of frictions, and you try to conceal your growing interest by averting your eyes. He brings you the warm cup, handing it to you gently as he looks out through the glass of his office to the lobby. "Harry gave them the rest of the day off. It was in preparation for some repairs—" He glances at you during his explanation, and when you flash a questioning expression, he clarifies. "—er, for the particle accelerator. Apparently, there was some mistake with scheduling so Harry's out trying to get it sorted. I figured I should at least get something done while I'm here waiting it out."

You enter in a well-timed joke. "You should do me." Peter eyes you thoughtfully.

It was not a joke, and it was excellently timed.

"Did you know I've always wanted to fuck in your—mm—office?" you ask, panting while he yanks you back on his dick. Pressed up against the window that overlooks the lobby, your breath fogs it up. Your hands brace flat against it, its temperature cooling your heated skin, indenting your perked nips.

Peter's chuckle through his nose sounds behind you, and it widens your intoxicated grin. "S'not just mine, baby. What's he gonna say when he sees your tit-prints all over the glass?" Some of the stuff Peter says really gets you, his words shooting straight through you as his dirty talk often does. You moan in response, sucking a breath through your teeth right after, biting your lip hard as he plows your pussy. His steady hands on your hips make sure you can't recoil too much and run away too far, he keeps you right where he wants you so easy.

"We could've kept more clothes on, Pete." you gasp, your tone reminiscent of admonishment even though you loved how he flicked your shirt up to squeeze your tits between the window and your body. Knowing him, he'd been waiting to do that since you walked in.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"You sound like you wanna get caught."

"You think I haven't thought about showing you off?"

[bruisedboys]

Jealous Finnick part 2?

Instead it’s with Peeta and training for the Quarter Quell? 👀

of course honey! thank you for requesting x

finnick odair x fem!tribute!reader

Finnick's not exactly pleased when he finishes in the training simulation and finds you teaching Peeta how to make a fish hook. Your fingers are quick and delicate as they work thin bronze wire around a makeshift hook. Peeta copies you, pressed far too close to your side for Finnick's liking. The younger blonde is totally enraptured, and sure, Finnick doesn't blame him, you're beautiful, but still — a frown works onto his face on it's own accord.

"Hey," he makes himself known as he approaches your workstation, because you're too focused on your work, and Peeta's too focused on you.

You look up at the sound of his voice and beam. It makes Finnick feel a little better you're so happy to see him. "Finnick, hey. You're done already?"

Finnick's frown deepens. "Yeah. I got bored."

"You got bored of chucking your spear at stuff?" You tease.

Peeta laughs next to you. Something claws at Finnick’s heart.

"Very funny, sweetheart," he tells you, ignoring Peeta. He rounds the table to get an arm around your hips, tucking his chin over your shoulder, his front pressed to your back. "What are you making?"

You warm at his closeness. "Just a hook. It’s not very good. Mags showed me how, remember?"

Finnick hums, watching your hands over your shoulder. "Mm, I remember. It looks good to me."

"Peeta's looks better," you say. "Pete, hun, show him yours."

Pete? Hun? Finnick feels suddenly like he's been punched in the throat. He can’t focus as Peeta hands his hook over and you show it to Finnick, raving about the attention to detail, or something. He‘a hardly listening, too busy trying not to kick Peeta in the leg. Pins and needles bite at his skin and dance over his palms. He accidentally digs his fingers too hard into your hip and you twist in his hold to look up at him, concerned.

"Hey, are you okay?" You ask him. You forget the hooks, setting them on the table and twisting to look at Finnick properly. You touch his arm. “Baby, you're really stiff."

Finnick pretends he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “Am I?"

You hum and take his jaw in your hand. "Yeah, honey." You pout at him, your hand dropping to his shoulder where you dig your thumb into the muscle there. "Could I give you a massage later, would that help?"

Finnick swallows hard. "I— yeah, okay." You want to give him a massage? You’re the loveliest person on the planet, he thinks.

"Okay,” you nod. “Remind me tonight, yeah?"

You beam at him and push up onto your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. Finnick feels far too overwhelmed to kiss back. He’s still dazed when you pull away and turn back to Peeta, who looks half embarrassed, like he shouldn’t be watching such an unabashed show of affection.

“Peeta was gonna show me some of his camouflage tricks,” you tell Finnick. “Did you wanna come, too?"

Finnick doesn’t answer right away, and at his pause, you lace your fingers through his and smile up at him, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Please?” You ask, all sugary sweet, practically dripping in fondness.

“Okay,” Finnick nods, feeling a bit like you’ve put him under a spell. “Yeah.”

You beam at him and then drag him with you to follow Peeta to the opposite corner of the training room. Finnick doesn’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but he knows for sure now he never had any reason to be jealous.

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pete Brenner x reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, SH in the workplace, heavy drug mention, sleazy Pete, heavy misogyny, I can't believe I wrote this, a lot of sex, yeah idek, 18+ minors dni. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pete Brenner hires a new assistant. 𝐀/𝐍: I cannot believe I wrote this. For him. Ew. Brb gonna go take a shower. This is pretty bad as well, like the pacing is wack and the reader's personality changes halfway through the fic?? Idek, I did this thing where I changed the scene every time I felt bored. Enjoy, I guess???

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only hiring you because you’re hot.”

He bends down over his desk, sniffing harshly. You stand there nervously watching him as he straightens up, his nose twitching. You catch a glimpse of white beneath he clears his throat and wipes it off. His eyes – a pretty blue – have an almost wild, excited look about them. But the rest of his face is a contradiction… he looks both calculated and amused as he licks his lips and makes his way over to you.

“That means I want to see you in short skirts, dress, that kind of shit, okay? And some pretty makeup.” His eyes dance over your body, taking in your curves. You’d worn a knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse for the interview with him – nothing too scandalous but it did hug your body nicely. Pete seemed to think so, at least, as his gaze remained glued on your cleavage, “Basically, I want you all dolled up because I sure as fuck know there’s no brain up there in your head. I have a real assistant, but you’ll be my other assistant.”

Other assistant. You knew what that meant.

You also know to remain quiet as he leers at you, coming closer till you have to crane your neck to look up at him. His jaw twitches, and his eyes are still glued to your chest. He reaches out, casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of your blouse with just his one hand. The view down your top makes him smirk.

“Tomorrow’s your first day, make sure to wear something sluttier than this. Even the office’s eye candy’s gotta put a little work in, huh, sweetheart?” He gives you a wink as he pats your cheek condescendingly.

You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You needed this job. You needed the money…

“Yes, Mr. Brenner.”

“Good girl,” he maintains eye contact with you, and it’s hard to look away when his pupils are so blown out. And despite his leery demeanour, he’s got a handsome face, you had to admit. Pretty eyes framed with long lashes, a nice bone structure and strong jawline. His jet-black hair was styled messily – either on purpose or because he kept running his hands through it. He was also tall, his tailored jacket tight around his biceps.

He gives your ass a slap as you leave the room, and you yelp in surprise but continue walking steadily lest you fall over in your high heels.

“See you bright and early tomorrow, sweetheart! I know we’re gonna love working together.”

***

“Ah, fuck yeah, keep going. Mm, just like that. God fucking dammit, you’re such a good little cocksucker, huh?”

Pete’s got one hand firmly carded through your hair, gripping it tightly as he bobs your head up and down on his cock. It’s uncomfortable under his desk, especially with your bare knees rubbing against the hard ground.

You’d showed up to your first day of work today bright and early, in an inappropriately short dress as per your new boss’s request. And Pete had licked his lips hungrily when he’d seen you, dragging you into his office and giving you your first task of the day. Sucking his dick while he sat behind his desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, you little slut, take it. Take my fat daddy dick down your little throat. Fuck yeah,” Pete murmurs. You’d quickly come to realise that Pete was every bit as filthy as you’d assumed he was going to be, spewing out a string of curses every time his mouth opened. He was also rougher than you’d expected, fucking your face relentlessly in a way that had you breathless, your hair a complete mess and your face glistening with sweat.

“Mm, tell me you’re a little cockslut,” He peers down at you with a wolfish grin, taking his dick out of your mouth and tapping your cheek with it not-so-gently.

“ ‘m a cockslut,” you pant, and he slaps you with his cock once more before shoving himself back in your mouth.

“That’s right, just look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I can’t believe–” his voice trails off, and you glance up to see his eyes narrow as he looks out the window of his office and into the hallway. “Ah, shit. My wife’s here. Keep sucking, baby, but be quiet about it.”

He had a wife? You don’t even have time to feel shocked and disgusted with yourself, all you can do is keep bobbing your head up and down as he keeps a firm hold on you.

“PETEY!” A chirpy voice sounds, and you cringe as you hear the door close. She was in this office, while you were giving her husband a blowjob.

“Hey, babe, how’s it hanging?” Pete says casually, his hand leaving your hair as he cracks his knuckles and leans back on his chair. You pray to God his wife doesn’t come any closer, lest you be found out.

She giggles, “Well, come on, silly. You made us lunch reservations at the Rustica Bistro, remember? I got my nails done and everything!”

You hear Pete grimace from above you, either from what his wife has just said or the fact that you’re still blowing him like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, babe, I gotta take a raincheck. You know how it is…” He gestures vaguely at his computer in front of him, “I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, fuck…” He swears under his breath, thrusting his hips upwardly subtly to stuff more of his cock in your mouth.

“Aww, but Pete–”

“No buts, sweetheart. You know I gotta provide for you and the baby, and that means making a few sacrifices here and there,” Pete runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow as you continue to suck him off, trying not to gasp out loud at the fact that he just said he had a baby. “But don’t let those reservations go to waste, sweetie. Why not take what’s-her-name? That broad from accounting?”

“Sally?”

“Yeah, take Sally. Go on, sweetheart, daddy’s busy. I’ll see you at home.”

You’re in awe at how he dismisses his wife, but you inwardly sigh in relief when you hear the clickity clack of her heels followed by the door opening and closing. Pete barks out a laugh, pulling you off his dick as he begins to pump it around his fist.

“That was a close one, huh?”

“Y-You never mentioned that you had a wife! And a child!”

He snorts, cupping your face and angling it so that he’s jacking off over it, a nonchalant look on his face.

“And you accepted a job as the office slut, so I guess we’re both lacking in the morals department, huh, sweetheart?”

***

Being Pete Brenner’s other assistant did have a few perks. Like free reign with his credit card (a separate one that his wife didn’t know about) as well as some nice gifts here and there. Diamond earrings when he was feeling nice; a designer dress when he wanted to be giving. A pearl-encrusted collar when he was on a particularly high power trip.

But the perks came with a lot of degradation. But it’s not like he hadn’t made that clear when he’d offered you the job.

“Now, sweetheart, all you gotta do is refill everyone’s water while us men talk business, alright?”

You nod, straightening out your tight, navy dress while Pete barks out more instructions as he paces around his office. Today was an important meeting about something or the other. You didn’t really understand what it was that Pete did, but you knew it was something to do with pharmaceuticals. You weren’t sure that all their business was legal, but you thought it was best to turn your head the other way when it came to all that.

You stand in the corner of the conference room during the meeting, watching as Pete sits at the head of the table and talks business with a bunch of colleagues. He looks at you and nods slightly, and that’s your cue to walk around and refill everyone’s water with the glass jug in your hand. It’s an easy enough task, but you’re still nervous in your sky-high heels and too-short dress, acutely aware of the way all these middle-aged men leer at you like you’re a piece of candy or an office decoration.

You set the jug down on the table after you’ve finished topping up Pete’s glass, but before you can quietly scurry back to your corner of the room, his large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You almost yelp in surprise, but catch your tongue just in time. You go with the flow, not wanting to cause a scene as Pete casually settles you down on his knee.

You really feel like a decoration now.

“That’s a fine-looking piece of ass you’ve got workin’ for ya, Brenner.” A seedy looking man at the other end of the table grins.

Pete smirks, his hand firmly resting on your bare thigh as you quiver in his lap at the multiple pairs of eyes now staring straight at you. His other hand twirls a bit of your hair round his finger, as if you’re his little doll that he’s finding amusement in showing off and toying with. “She’s a looker, alright. That’s why I hired her, isn’t that right, baby?”

You have no choice but to nod, heat spreading across your cheeks as the whole room erupts in laughter. Pete holds you firmly in his lap throughout the meeting. You try to zone out, since their business and pharmaceutical jargon makes no sense to you, but you keep getting jolted back to reality as Pete continues to fondle you brazenly in front of everyone.

“Don’t think I’d get any work done if I had a broad like her walking around in my office.” A greasy looking man sitting adjacent from you and Pete pipes up.

Pete grins wolfishly, his hand creeping up the hem of your dress while the other one strokes your arm sensually. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he glances at you and winks, “with her around, I get to relieve all my pent-up tension, which makes work a lot easier.”

“Say, Brenner, you look like you gotta relieve some tension right now!” Another guy quips.

Pete smirks, standing up and yanking you up with him, “You’re right, Davidson. I think I do. You gentlemen mind if we take a recess on this meeting?”

His request is met with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, and he drags you off to a small door to the side of the room. The bathroom.

“Th-They’ll all be able to hear us!” You protest as he bends you over the sink, lifting your dress up and giving your bare ass a hard slap.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. It’s hotter with an audience.” He shoves his hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and slipping two fingers inside you, smirking when he pulls them out to see them glistening, “clearly you find it hot too.”

Pete fucks you in the bathroom while the men cheer him on from the next room. And you scrunch your eyes shut and focus on trying not to moan (because he fucked you so good after all). His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts into you over again, alongside a string of curses (he was always very vocal during sex, no matter where you were).

He’s got a smug look on his face when he’s done. The smugness of a man who made a whole roomful of men hear your screams of pleasure. (You’d had to be vocal in the end, you couldn’t help it. Not when he was rubbing your clit and whispering dirty words in your ear, making your cunt squeeze around him as you came all over his cock).

He takes you straight back into the conference room, setting you down on his lap and continuing the meeting as if nothing even happened.

***

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

You do, only for him to cup your cheeks and blow smoke right into your face. You sputter, trying to turn away but Pete’s got other plans. He presses his lips against yours, giving you the headiest kiss you’ve ever experienced, making you feel light-headed.

He laughs, “You fall for it every time.”

You scowl at him, “One day I’m gonna quit working for you.”

He snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Oh yeah, sweetheart? And then what’re you gonna do?”

“Make a name for myself.”

He seems to find that hilarious, throwing his head back and laughing as if you’ve just cracked the funniest joke in the world. You huff, shrugging away from him and going to stand on the other end of the balcony. It was attached to his office and Pete liked to hang out there sometimes, claimed he appreciated the fresh air. As if he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth 24/7.

You look out into the city, admiring the bright lights that made the streets come to life at night. The sound of traffic and the mindless buzz of nightlife that had a knack of making people wonder what they were doing with their life. That’s when you feel something hard pressing against your lower back.

“You know, I always wanted to fuck a girl out here.” Pete pushes your hair to one side, kissing the exposed nape of your neck.

“I’d bet a thousand dollars you’d already have done that.”

He chuckles, his hands slipping up and down your body, feeling you up and fondling you in his specifically sleazy way except it turns you on anyways. “After tonight I will have.”

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife? Or at least your baby?”

He pushes your dress up till he’s got it bunched around your waist, before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your panties and snapping it against your skin. “What, you think you’re gonna peptalk me into having some kind of moral breakthrough or something?” He tugs your panties down your legs and gives your ass a squeeze, “Sweetheart, you know the kind of man I am. And I know exactly the kind of girl you are.”

The kind that lets her boss fuck her outside on his balcony overlooking the city.

“Fuck yeah, shake that fucking ass on my daddy dick. Make daddy cum, fuck!” Pete grips your hair and yanks your head back, biting and sucking at your neck as he fucks you. You grip the iron railing hard, your mind wiped of everything except the pleasure he was administering to you right now.

“Mm, fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” You moan, grinding back against his dick, feeling the pure, delicious agony of him breaking you in two from the inside out.

He releases inside you with a guttural roar in your ear, and you sigh, following suit as you milk him through his orgasm. Your cunt pulsates with your pleasure, and he holds you tight before bringing his cigarette up to your mouth so you can take a drag. You do, before craning your neck and grabbing his face, blowing the smoke straight past his lips as you kiss him.

***

“The fuck do you mean you’re knocked up? Were you not on the motherfucking pill?”

You sigh. You’d been fucking Pete for half a year now, and in that time you’d had the pleasure of getting to know him on a very personal level. His likes, dislikes, his temperament. You knew him well enough to know that he got extremely melodramatic when he was high. Which is why it maybe wasn’t the best decision on your part to break the news to him when he was coked out, but you’d had no choice… Pete’s sober moments were very few and far between these days.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I’m pregnant. I took three tests.”

“God-fucking-dammit!” He slams his fist down on his desk repeatedly, before the pain proves too much and that’s when he straightens up, running a hand through his already messy black hair. “I already got my hands full with one brat.”

He loved his son, really. You’d seen him enough times with the kid to know that Pete did indeed have a heart when it came to a child of his own flesh and blood.

“Well, congratulations, daddy. In about nine months, you’ll have another one.”

He narrows his eyes, stumbling over to you and grabbing you by the neck. He pushes back, high off his mind yet still much stronger than you. His lips curled and brows furrowed almost accusatorily, he backs you up against the wall, his face inches from yours.

“You,” he sneers, “When did you get so cynical, huh? Where’s the bright-eyed, naïve girl I hired six months ago?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Pete, maybe your sleaziness and depravity killed her off.”

He glares at you, and you glare back. It’s an intense stare-down that lasts a handful of seconds before you’re on top of each other. Kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off, not caring that the glass windows of his office aren’t covered with the blinds. The receptionist would get a show, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Pete had no shame, and now, neither did you.

“I find pregnant broads sexy as hell,” he tells you, carrying you over to his desk. He sits down on his chair with you on top of him, “so that’s one thing to look forward to.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“So the fuck are you.”

He shoves his dick into you from below, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly you know he’ll leave bruises. He bounces you up and down on his dick like it’s your job – which, well, it is.

“Your tits will get even bigger, that’s another thing to look forward to,” he whispers in your ear, ripping the top of your dress in half and pushing the cups of your bra down. Your breasts spill out and he goes to town on them, burying his face between them, licking, nipping, biting like you’re his drug of choice for the evening.

You’re confused, scared, even. But that won’t stop you from answering back to him, and so, despite the pleasure he’s making you feel, you shoot him a look of disdain.

“Who says I’m gonna stick around long enough for you to see me like that?”

He yanks you forward by your hair, giving you a rough and almost possessive kiss.

“Sweetheart, don’t kid yourself. I intend on keeping your fine ass around, and besides, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”

***

“I do.”

Pete’s wife had left him. Something about running away with a hot Australian lifeguard who happened to also have a hefty trust fund. The divorce was settled quickly (Pete had more money than his now ex-wife was even aware of, so she happily took what she thought was an equal half). Pete had one condition, though. His son had to stay with him.

And then six months later, you found yourself walking down the aisle in a dress of ivory lace, saying “I do” to the man who only a year ago had just been your boss. Now you were the new Mrs. Brenner, a mother to be and a stepmother to a two-year-old to boot.

It was a good thing you liked kids.

“You’re lucky, you know that? Fucked your way to the very top.” Pete says, his hand stroking your very pregnant belly.

You giggle, spreading out on the satin sheets below you. They’re soft and white and expensive, covered in rose petals. Pete had gone all out and booked the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons, which was the least he could do to make you comfortable after you’d gone through that whole wedding ceremony and reception, all pregnant and uncomfortable and all.

“Not the very top,” you muse, “I could leave you just like your first wife did. Leave you for a richer man.”

Pete scoffs, shrugging his jacket off before rejoining you on the bed, “Honey, if you knew how much money I had in my bank account right now, you’d be licking the bottom of my shoe for the foreseeable future.”

You don’t say anything, instead turning your attention to your ring. You hold up your hand so it catches the light, the hefty diamond sparkling expensively. Just a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom having fifty dollars to your name… And now?

You grow distracted by his hand as it sneaks between your legs. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan when his fingers find your clit. All he has to do is circle your bundle of nerves with his pointer finger and you cum, grabbing his bicep and squealing his name, humping your cunt up against his palm like a wanton whore. All while he grins wolfishly at how easily he can make you come undone.

“It’s just ‘cause I’m pregnant,” you say once you’ve caught your breath, causing his expression to sour.

“Please, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve never had anyone as good as your husband. And you never will, ‘cause it’s all me from now on, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

“Oh my gosh, you really shouldn’t have!” You squeal, running over to your new candy pink convertible. Pete stands by the hood, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Only the best for my wife. Now you can do the day-care runs in style.”

You jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a million kisses on his face. “Thank you, daddy! I love it so much.”

He grins, spinning you around a few times before putting you down, “Happy birthday, babe.”

Your four-year-old son and two-year-old daughter come toddling down the front steps of your mansion, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing at your new pink car. Pete looks positively beside himself with glee, scooping both his kids up in his arms so they can get a better look at it.

It only took a few months into being married to you for Pete to realise that he liked the family man lifestyle. And you could tell he liked being a provider, liked showering his family with gifts and spending money on you and the babies more than blowing it all on drugs and strip clubs. It was a shame that it took him two marriages and two different baby mamas to realise that, but at least his ex was living it up in Australia, so there was no love lost there.

“We need to come up with a story when people ask us how we met,” you say one evening as the two of you get ready for bed. You’re sitting in front of your vanity, applying cold cream to your face and neck while Pete does God knows what in the background.

“Easy. My gold-digger assistant got herself knocked up and trapped my ass, and now here we are.” Pete smirks, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Shut up, you jerk. More like, I took advantage of and sexually harassed my poor, innocent assistant, and the least I could do was marry her after I got her pregnant.” You smile, letting him grab your hand and drag you to the bed.

“Okay, poor, innocent assistant. Why don’t you let daddy put another baby inside you tonight?” He asks, pushing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you, his voice thick with lust as he runs a hand through his messy, black hair.

“So you can accuse me of getting knocked up again?”

“Yeah,” He rips your nightie in half, making you squeal, “That’ll ensure I’m trapped with you for another two years at least.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, Mrs. Brenner. Maybe that’s why I’m in love with you.”

SFJHKASGD THE END!

If you made it till here... thank you! I think I got possessed last night and today so I wrote this. Sorry besties, but please do let me know what you think! Feedback means everything to me!! I love you guys and now back to our regularly scheduled programming of ARI and STEVE!

[ellecdc]

Okay after many many thoughts I think I've got it!

Barty showing up to the gryffindor quidditch after party (cause James and Sirius are great players and know what they're doing) bloody and bruised cause he overheard some butthurt slytherins talking shit about James and their girl. And he wasn't gonna let that slide.

I'm not sure if it's clear, but this is in regards to the darksun x reader were talking about yesterday 😅

oooooooof ok.......*throws this at you all and runs* NEW SHIP ALERT: I'm new to this, be nice to me hahahahaha

poly!darksun x fem!reader at a bloody Gryffindor afterparty

CW: Barty shows up bloody and bruised but he's chuffed about it, reader won't stop slapping Peter [it's not that serious], Sirius is not that serious -> pairing = james potter x reader x barty crouch jr

It had been perhaps only 25 minutes since the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw game ended and the afterparty in Gryffindor tower was already in full swing.

And what Remus meant by full swing was that Sirius was literally swinging from the chandelier, Marlene and Lily were challenging one another to a game of ‘who could spin the most times without getting sick’ (which Remus felt was a game that everyone was going to lose), and you and Peter were halfway through a very intense muggle card game called slap which did indeed involve slapping and, apparently, swearing and trash talk. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Peter muttered as he rubbed the back of his hands dejectedly.

“Gonna have to be faster than that, Wormy.” You taunted as you collected his pile of cards.

“Oi, if she has so much as one welt on the back of her hand, Pete; there will be hell to pay.” James called as he came up behind you.

You turned to look at James then, and Remus was sure your smile was nearly blinding in your excitement and energy if James’ lovesick look was anything to go by.

“Yeah, yeah Prongs; she’s sodding winning by a landslide anyways, no need to get your knickers in a twist.” Peter muttered (rather petulantly for only having lost a round of a silly card game if you asked Remus).

“I don’t think it’s Prongs you have to worry about, my dear Wormy.” Sirius called from his new home in the chandelier, nodding towards the entrance as Barty stepped through the portrait hole. 

Remus watched as both you and James seemed to melt now that your third was here. He knew that it hadn’t been easy persuading Barty to participate in such “Gryffindorian displays of pompous pride” as he had called it, but you had somehow been able to convince him to celebrate the team’s wins if not only for James’ sake. 

And, as Sirius would pretend, maybe a little bit for his sake as well. Remus didn’t have the heart (nor the patience) to tell him that was a fat chance. 

“I’m not afraid of Junior.” Pete muttered darkly as he watched you reset the game in front of them. 

“Circe’s tits…perhaps you should be, Pete.” Sirius bit out through a grimace, causing the group to all turn their attention to the Slytherin boy.

Remus wasn’t exactly sure what the Slytherin practice was when getting ready for a celebratory quidditch afterparty, but based on Barty’s current state, it seemed that ritual consisted of at least one fist fight with a particularly angry hippogriff.

“What happened?” You nearly shrieked as you abandoned your card game and you and James made for your boyfriend. 

Barty let out a breath before he broke out into a smile. “Sorry I’m late! Had to take care of something on my way here.”

Remus was sure that the way Barty was grinning at the two of you had to be horribly painful for the busted lip he was currently sporting as his teeth quickly turned a pinky/red colour. 

“And what were you taking care of? A graphorn?” James asked incredulously as you guided Barty to a stool in order to fuss over him.

“Don’t be daft, James. There’s no graphorns in Hogwarts.” Barty waved him off, eyes moving to you as you assessed his face.

“Who did you run into, Barty?” You pressed; voice taking a no-nonsense tone that had Peter and Remus sharing a nervous look. 

“Just some Ravenclaws who were a little disappointed by the end of today’s match, is all.” He offered happily; pulling you closer towards him from where you were standing between his legs by the back of your thighs, watching you adoringly as you summoned a cloth to dab at his lip. 

“That’s all, is it?” You deadpanned, clearly not buying his story.

“I hardly think you were too fussed over some comment about quidditch scores, Barty.” James chided lovingly. 

“Of course I did! I love quidditch.” Barty spat defensively. 

“Yeah, but you hate the Gryffindor team.” Sirius called from his chandelier. 

“That’s not true! I’m shagging the captain for Salazar’s sake.”

“Okay, well…maybe don’t shout that?” You muttered as you looked around in embarrassment, earning a bark of laughter from James as he rubbed your shoulders consolingly. 

“I don’t know, bubs; I don’t see you risking showing up late and bloody over discourse on match scores.” James continued, clearly finding this more amusing than you were as you angrily cast a glacius on a cup and held it to Barty’s jaw which was quickly purpling in colour. 

“Okay, perhaps they said a few other things; it’s no big deal.” Barty offered dismissively, though Remus (and likely you and James) noticed the way that his grip seemed to strengthen on your thighs at his admission.

“Yeah? Like what?” You encouraged. 

Barty let out a defeated sigh as he finally turned his gaze to you. “You know I don’t like people talking about you; either of you.” He admitted quietly. 

You shook your head in disappointment but let out a sympathetic sigh.

“Wait, what’d they say about our girl?” James said then, craning his neck around you in order to look at Barty pointedly.

“It doesn’t matter Jamie! It appears he’s already taken care of it, yeah?” You hissed as you swatted at him with the cloth that you had been tending to Barty with. 

James quickly caught the end of the cloth and used it to pull you into him, planting a smacking kiss to your face. 

“I did take care of it!” Barty repeated excitedly. “Can I have a kiss?” He asked sweetly, smiling at you expectantly as you rubbed James’ kiss off of your cheek. 

“Absolutely not.” You grumbled as you ignored his disbelieving scoff.

“Why not!?” He cried out as you stepped out from between his legs.

“Barty, I am not rewarding you for bad behaviour.” You declared as you plopped yourself down in front of Peter again, ordering him to reset your card game. 

James quickly looked between the two of you before stepping between Barty’s legs to give him his own kiss.

“You are such a simp, James Potter.” Remus taunted under his breath as to not alert you to your boyfriend currently enabling your other boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah; laugh it up now. But I get to watch you try to wrestle Pads out of the chandelier later, so I don’t think you have a leg to stand on, Moons.” 

“He can sleep up there tonight, for all I care.” Remus muttered petulantly as he crossed his arms.

Sirius wouldn’t sleep up there tonight; Remus knew it, James knew it, Sirius knew it, likely the whole bloody school knew it. But Remus would pretend he wasn’t as big a simp as James Potter, at least a little bit longer, in order to preserve what little superiority he held for the time being.