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ashwhowrites · 5 months

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Hi! I wrote some in my drafts then it wouldn't let me edit so I had to screenshot the request and start over! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Hideout jealousy

Y/N knew she screwed up when she landed underneath her best friend. She got a taste of his lips and now craves it constantly. His body against hers, her name on his lips, and the feeling of him inside of her. But both still called it a friendship. But do friends hook up with each other all the time? She didn't do this with any of her other friends. She wasn't sure what to call them. Friends with benefits sounded too harsh like they barely knew each other. They were best friends, so best friends with benefits?

In many ways, she regretted having sex with him the first time. It haunts her dreams and mind. He's right there all the time and she can't escape him. She saw him as a friend but now he has this glow to him. He has this pull that drags her in flat on her face. She was obsessed with how she felt with him.

Turns out she was more obsessed than she thought. She swore she could feel a fire inside her body as she watched a girl flirt with Eddie. Her bright smile and soft touch on his arm. Y/N clenched the glass in her hand, her ears ringing from Eddie's show just before. A show she was front row for, screaming and cheering for the band. Then Eddie was whisked away, and he hasn't looked back since.

She hated how much she cared, and that the sight of Eddie with another girl made her want to claim him. Claim him right there in the middle of the room. Y/N threw on a smile when Eddie turned around and gave her a small nod. Y/N tried to make it seem like she wasn't glaring holes into the girl's head. She held her breath as Eddie walked over to her.

"Ready to go?" Eddie asked, his hand reaching out. Y/N grasped it and held on to it tightly. They walked passed the girl, and Eddie barely made eye contact with her. Y/N smirked as they walked past. Yeah, she was jealous. But Eddie was ending his night in her bed.

~~~

On the drive home, Eddie felt like something was wrong. Y/N was biting his ear, and his neck, and palming him through his jeans the whole drive. Eddie melted and loved it, but it wasn't like her. She liked it private and soft. But the way she handled him was something else.

Once they made it into her house, her clothes were off and she was eagerly trying to tear his clothes off. His gentle hands stopped her, a worried look in his eyes.

"what's wrong?" She hated how concerned he sounded. She didn't want her emotions to be written on her sleeve.

"Nothing, why?" She asked, her lips on his neck as she tried to get her hands free. But Eddie didn't budge. He dropped her hands, just to cup her face. She tried to get her head out of his hands but he wouldn't move. He kept his hands on her, not hard enough to hurt her but enough that she couldn't wiggle free. She huffed as he kept delaying.

"look are we gonna have sex or not?" She snapped. If he planned to dodge all her touches, she wasn't going to bother.

"Not when you are upset like this," Eddie said sternly. "Tell me what's wrong. Talk to me." He said gently. He released her face, grabbed her hand, and walked them to the couch. She sat beside him, his hands holding hers. She wasn't sure if it was for comfort or to keep her hands off of him.

"I'm not even upset!" She argued.

"Jealous, maybe?" He asked trying to keep the smile off his face. He knew smiling about the situation would make it worse, but he couldn't help but love the ownership she wanted over him. He'd be lying if he said he never thought of their little fling becoming way more.

She felt her blood run cold. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he already knew she was. He wanted her to admit it. She puffed out her cheeks and shook her head.

"jealous? Of what!" She faked and laughed. She tried to keep a straight poker face. Deny, deny, deny.

"The girl, her flirting. Her thinking she even has a chance to make me turn my head."

"Head sure looked turned to me." She snapped. This time Eddie did smile.

"There it is." He sang, a cheeky smile on his face. "It's okay to be jealous."

"I'm not! I just think we hang out, we have sex. Two things you do in a relationship so why is she needed?" Y/N said, shrugging her shoulders.

"She's not needed." Eddie clarified. He turned her head to look at him. He slowly leaned in. She felt her eyes closing and butterflies in her stomach as she leaned into him. "Just need you." He whispered then his lips landed on hers.

She whimpered as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. The kiss she's been craving since the bar. Her hands were free as he let go. His hands moved down to her thighs, his strong hands gripping the skin as she moaned. Her hands dove into his hair, tangling in his curls.

"I love you." He said against her lips. Her eyes shot open, his brown eyes already looking into hers. "Way more than a friend and I want more than sex."

Y/N couldn't keep the smile off her face. Words she dreamed he'd say.

"I love you, I want that too." Her smile pressed against his as he deepened the kiss. Her back against the couch as he pushed her. His body was on hers as his hands moved up her body, underneath her shirt. She shivered as his rings grazed against her skin. The coldness of the metal made her stomach flip.

She moaned as his hands moved behind her to unhook her bra. He's done this countless times but this time felt so different. She felt like it was the first time she ever felt him all over again.

She moaned as he moved fast. Her bra and shirt were gone as his hands twisted her sensitive nipples, the feeling of his warm tongue teasing the bud.

~~~

Lost in the feeling of their bodies intertwined. The gentle and slow thrust of Eddie's hips against hers. Her nails scratched down his back, her legs tight around his waist. She was warm and tight around him, Eddie shivered at the way she clenched around him. She could feel the wetness between her thighs and she loved the way his pubic hair scratched against her.

Then he hit that one spot that sent a tingle up her spine. She wasn't in control of her body anymore. Something inside her snapped as she arched her back. The screams released from her lungs as his name fell off her lips like a prayer. His cock pulsed as she cried out. Tears spilling from her eyes as she grabbed his ass to keep him inside of her. She silenced herself by biting down on his shoulder. The pain and sting made Eddie's eyes roll in the back of his head. He felt her cum make a mess everywhere, and he quickly pulled out of her. He jerked his cock off in the direction of her stomach. He painted her stomach and cunt in his cum as he panted. She tried to hold open her heavy eyes to watch. The way his stomach clenched, teeth down on his bottom lip. His hair stuck to his forehead as he cussed and pumped himself more. He wanted to leave himself empty and leave it all to her.

The sight of her heaving and sweaty body covered in his cum made his balls feel heavy all over again. Almost like if he tried hard enough, he could cover her again.

He watched as her hand smoothed down her body, her fingers smearing his cum further into her skin. He felt himself drooling as she trailed her fingers up to her mouth and sucked them clean.

"Fuck, you are something else, baby." He smirked, and he leaned down to plant a wet kiss on her forehead. She giggled and quickly wrapped her arms around him. Crashing his body down onto hers.

"Now I'm covered in my cum." Eddie groaned

"whoops." She shrugged, a big smile on her face.

"Love you," he said, rubbing his nose against hers.

"Good. Tell the slut at the bar too."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson smut x female reader #ashwhowrites

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strawberry-cowmilk · 3 months

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safe space

-> lucifer x mc (romantic or platonic)

-> lucifer comforts an upset mc who came to him

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proofread

content warnings: crying, hurt/comfort, mc sits in lucifer's lap

a/n: I'm back from not writing hehe anyways this is lucifer comfort fic number 20 that has been in my drafts for months and I've decided to release it (it was literally finished too). At this point I'm gonna change the character name so I got fics for the others too 💀💀

-----

Lucifer was at a loss for words when you barged into his study. You were clearly crying and it worried him greatly. Were you just running around the house, desperately trying to not absolutely burst out in tears while trying to find him? His heart caught in his throat when he heard you weakly call his name. He pushed himself away from the desk in his chair to make room for you to sit on his lap if you would like to. He wasn't too surprised when you ran to him and instantly started bawling the second you made physical contact with him. While gently guiding you to sit on his lap in a more comfortable position with his one hand, Lucifer stroked your arm with his free one. He quietly hushed you as you violently sobbed into his chest and clutched onto his shirt for dear life. You're clearly too upset to talk, so Lucifer will carefully hold you close until you're ready to speak. Repeatedly making quiet 'shh' sounds and gently rubbing your arms and back seems like the best thing to do right now.

Lucifer is really worried about you though. What could possibly have happened to get you this upset? He's known you for a while, and never once before were you running around crying around the house while trying to find him. Eventually you did calm down a bit, but you still looked really distraught. Lucifer gave you a little comforting squeeze against his body. You did not look at him, your face remained buried against his neck, but you felt safe here.

'You can talk to me whenever you feel like it, Mc.'

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me swd #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me angst #gn!mc

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msschemmenti · 2 months

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valentines date auction

a/n: please do not fight me... i meant to finish and post this before valentine's days. i also started this like 9 months ago. i'm working through my drafts, bear with me please.

prompt: ava convinces the staff to throw a valentine's day fling to raise money for the school.

“So this year to bring in some extra money, I’ve come up with a brilliant idea. I think you’re all going to love it because it involves all of my favorite things.” Ava announced at the mic with a smile causing the teachers to roll their eyes.

“Get on with it.” Melissa called from her seat in the gym. Barbara leaned over to swat her thigh as a warning but Melissa wasn’t too worried about her when she felt the younger woman on her other side shaking with giggles at her comment. Y/n Y/Ln, Abbott Elementary’s new PE teacher. She’d been working there since the start of the school year and she was approaching her first year with Abbott. She’d somehow wormed her way into the core group of teachers at Abbott and she unknowingly wormed her way into the forefront of Melissa Schemmenti’s mind.

“We’re doing a Valentine’s Day Date Auction!” Ava grinned as she clicked to another slide on her powerpoint. “I’ll be auctioning off dates with our most attractive staff! And before you ask if this is legal, I don’t care. It’s for the children. So who wants in?” The room filled with concerned silence as no one made a move to sign up. “Oh don’t act like you people are getting dates on your own. This could be great for you,” At the continued silence Ava sighed, “Fine, the dates will be to wherever you like with a credit to handle the cost. It’s a free outing, people.”

There’s a bit more bite and people’s hands started to raise in agreement. Melissa and Barb both shook their heads as Ava wrote people’s names down. “I can’t believe anyone is agreeing to this.” Melissa groaned.

“Who’re you telling, girlfriend? My Gerald would never participate in an auction like this and that’s the only man I’ll ever go on a date with.”

“It must be so nice to not have to go through the whole courting stage anymore. It’s so exhausting trying to find a date nowadays.” Y/n grumbled crossing her legs as she leaned over to speak to Barb.

“Oh don’t tell me you struggle to find a date?” Melissa eyed suspiciously.

“Oh yeah. It’s hard out here. It’s so hard in fact that I will be the grand finale of this auction.” Y/n grimaced as both of the older women eyed her in shock.

“You’re up for sale?” Melissa asked incredulously.

“Not for sale, more like for rent.” Y/n corrected causing both women to roll their eyes. “Oh come on, it’s for a good cause and I get a free meal out of it. There aren’t really any cons. I could meet my wife.”

Barb seemed to be sold a bit on the idea, but the redhead was still on the fence. She and the PE teacher had been doing a bit of a flirtatious tango all year and she could never really tell if she was serious or not. Melissa had gotten to a point in her life where she really didn’t question who she was attracted to anymore, but she hadn’t figured out how to tell who was seriously attracted to her yet. Casual flirting aside, Melissa really didn’t know what Y/n’s type was. And she definitely didn’t have the guts to find out if she was her type. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see her auctioned off to some young philly broad.

“Plus it was either me or Gregory. He looked like he was going to have a heartattack when Ava asked which of us was going to seal the deal. I do what I can to keep you core teachers alive.” Y/n smirked with a final shrug. That caused both older women to chuckle, one easier than the other, but Y/n didn’t seemed to notice the confliction on Melissa’s face.

Once Ava was satisfied with the number of teachers on her Valentine’s Day Auction roster, she closed the meeting out and release the teachers to their evenings. She hurried down the steps of the steps of the stage to catch Y/n as she stood up from her seat next to Melissa.

“Y/n, how do you feel about dressing up as a construction worker?” Ava asked excitedly as she pulled up a picture on her phone.

“Absolutely not. You’ll be lucky if I show up in something other than a track suit.” Y/n said pushing the woman’s phone away from her face.

“What about-” Ava started.

“No.” Y/n cut her off with her best smile. She reached up and patted Ava’s shoulder with a shake of her head. “Keep asking and I won’t show up at all.” That last threat seemed shut Ava up with a grumble. She sulked off with her roster and headed for her office as everyone readied themselves to go home for the night. Y/n looked at the two veteran teachers with smiles, “Alright ladies, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Have a great evening.”

“You too Y/n.” Barbara smiled as she head for the door, Melissa trailing behind a bit as she caught the PE teachers eyes.

“See ya kid.” Melissa called, causing the younger teacher to shoot a wink over her shoulder as she moved to help Mr. Johnson clear the chairs from the gym. Melissa’s cheeks heated as she rounded the corner out of them gym and fell in step with Barb. They briefly parted to lock up their classrooms and when they hit the couple of steps outside of the school Melissa was shocked for the second time within the last hour.

“So are you gonna bid on Y/n or tell her how you feel before the auction?” Barb asked with a knowing smirk.

“What?” Melissa asked incredulously trying to hide the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Oh don’t play dumb with me. You’ve been all but drooling over her for the better part of the school year. I don’t think I can watch it for much longer. This is your chance to make a move. She said it herself, she’s single and very much looking. So much so that she’s agreed to auction off and evening with herself. What can you need?”

“Maybe any sort of indication that she feels the same way? I mean yeah we casually flirt, but how am I suppose to pursue anything if the whole thing was just a joke to her?” Melissa scowled.

“I highly doubt that’s the case. Do you know how many times Ava has attempted to do that whole flirting thing with her? Or the amount of parents, suddenly concerned with the PE curriculum. She hasn’t shown anyone as much attention as she consistently shows you.” Barb listed as Gerald pulled into the lot next Melissa’s car. Barbara smiled and waved at her husband before turning to look at her friend, “You’ve got to make a move girlfriend, before one of these parents snatch your chance at the auction.”

Melissa grumbles but heads to her home to think over what her friend said. She hated how right Barb sounded.

The Valentine’s Auction came much sooner than anyone was ready for. The morning of the event seemed to have the entire teachers lounge buzzing with excitement and trepidation. Janine, ever the chatty Kathy had taken to questioning everyone on what they planned to wear tonight. As soon as Y/n entered the room, Janine was up and buzzing.

“Oh Y/n! What are you wearing tonight?” The shorter woman bounced on her heels next to the PE teacher as she doctored up a mug of tea.

“Why? What have you heard?” Y/n asked suspiciously, hoping Ava hasn’t somehow told everyone about her costume ideas.

“Well I just want to make sure I’m not the only one wearing festive things. And I wanna make sure we’re not wearing the same thing of course. Wouldn’t want the fashion police to have a ‘who wore better’ moment.” Janine rambled and Y/n nodded following as much as she could.

“Oh. I don’t know yet. I’ve got a couple pink tracksuits that might really draw people in.” Y/n chuckled taking her seat next to Melissa with a grin. “What do you think, is Nike sexy enough to secure a date with a Philly eleven like yourself?”

Melissa rolled her eyes at Barbs foot kicking her under the table, “I’m sure you could pull a Philly eleven wearing far less than a pink Nike tracksuit.”

Y/n smiled and winked at the older teacher before turning her attention back to Janine, “Listen Janine. I highly doubt we’ll be wearing the same thing but don’t worry, I’ll have something within the valentines color scheme on.” The second grade teacher nodded, heading back to her seat.

“So you’re both coming tonight right?” Y/n asked hopefully.

“Yep, Gerald and I will be there. I wouldn’t want to miss seeing you meet your date.” Barb smiled with raised eyebrows.

“How about you Red? Gonna be there to bail me out if some crazy bids on me?” Y/n asked.

“Anything for you, hun.” Melissa smiled, knowing those words held a lot more weight than she was letting on.

“Good. I’ll see you both later than.” Y/n smiled squeezing Melissa’s shoulder affectionately before heading to the gym.

“Welcome to the Avalentine’s Day Auction! We’re so glad you could all join us for our fundraising event this school year. As you know, Abbott is always looking for ways to better our school for your students and with that in mind, I hope you brought your checkbooks and rich friends because we’ve got some sexy staff members ready to go home with you all for a good cause.” Ava smiled looking out over the crowd.

As Ava stood on the stage, Melissa sat in a table toward the back of the room with Barb, Gerald, and Gregory. Jacob and Janine were off scoping the potential bidders out. She herself was scoping the room out as well, but she was mostly looking for Y/n. She hadn’t seen her since that morning and part of her was much more desperate to see her than she usually allowed herself. It didn’t help that she had brought her checkbook and knew a part of her was willing to drain her savings to keep Y/n from going out with one of these young broads. As if she realized she looked ridiculous scanning the room, Melissa turned back to her table companions. Janine and Jacob came back shortly after Melissa pulled herself from her own search. Janine panting out of breath and Jacob grinning mischievously ready to spill the details of their crowd search.

“There are quite a few people here. And we heard a lot of interest.”

“Interest in the two of you?” Melissa found herself asking. She didn’t mean to sound so shocked but it just came out that way. Both of the younger teachers shrank a bit but recovered when the redhead looked apologetic.

“Not exactly. Most of the women here are torn between being disappointed Gregory isn’t up there and excited that Y/n is. Speaking of, has anyone see her? I wanna see what outfit she went with.” Jacob said rising from his seat to scan the room. Oblivious to the panic he’d cause within Melissa.

“Oh there she is, damn! She cleans up nice.” Janine called as she drew the groups attention to the doors to the gym. And Melissa damn near forgot how to breathe. Y/n paused in the doorway scanning the room, for their group presumably, but she was dressed in something none of them had ever seen her in. Gone were her trainers, baggy sweats, and matching hoodie sets. She was clad in fitted high waisted trousers and a matching vest top that showed just enough skin to have Melissa’s mind running. Her hair was held back by a red head band that matched her red ankle boots and leather jacket. Melissa was at a true loss for words. Y/n spotted the group and started making her way over with a smile.

Before she could get too close Melissa felt Barb’s hand cup her chin and push up, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” She teased lightly causing Gerald to chuckle.

Tonight was going to be a long long night. And she knew in her heart she might leave broker than she already was.

“Alright ladies, this last one is for you!” Ava grinned as she motioned for Y/n to come up to the stage.

The PE teacher grimaced and looked at the people at her table nervously, “Wish me luck.” She called before leaving to be paraded around the stage. She made it to the stairs and as she came into the view for the room, the cheers followed. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment but she trudged on reminding herself of the cause and the prospect of a decent meal on Ava’s dime.

“Last but certainly not least. The finest thing to happen to Abbott Elementary since I became principal. Our PE teacher, Y/n Y/Ln! Strut your stuff boo!” Ava introduced causing the room to erupt further. And Melissa’s scowl to set.

“She’s very fit as you can see. Super funny and super hot. She could probably bench you. Let’s start the bidding at $50?” Ava started. That didn’t last long though. Hands and paddles shot up eagerly at the price. So far, no one had gone for over $150, but Ava had a feeling Y/n was going to be the exception.

“Can I get a $100 then? $150? $200?” Ava called and some hands dropped but there were still quite a few waving in the air. Ava motioned for Y/n to do a spin on the stage and she obliged if only to make the whole thing go a bit faster.

“Alright how about $300?” That seemed to do it and there was one hand left up. Y/n recognized her, Lauren Williams. She’d been one of the first people to schedule a meeting with Y/n when she started claiming her son had some health issues that may impact his participation in the gym class. After the first meeting, it was very clear her son had no problems and it was really just a ploy to get the gym teacher alone. She’d been dodging her since she started and she really wasn’t looking forward to how this was going.

“300 going once, going twice…” Ava called waving the bedazzled gavel she’d gotten herself. Until a familiar hand shot up at the back table. “I see 350? Alright Schemmenti, I see you.” Ava grinned. “Do I hear 400?” Lauren’s hand was back up, quickly. “450? Anyone?”

All eyes shifted to Melissa to see her contemplation before she waved her hand again and Ava squealed in delight. Everyone of the teachers at the table looked at her incredulously but her eyes were darting between Lauren’s head and the stage.

“450 going once, going twice, and…” Before Ava could even finish, Lauren shot to her feet and called out.

“500!” Everyone in the room looked at the woman in shock.

“What?” Y/n asked in shock. Eyes goes to Ava in alarm. $500 for a date with her was absolutely insane. Anyone willing to pay that had to b crazy.

“Sold!” Ava grinned. And the room erupted in applause.

Melissa was sulking in her seat when Y/n finally returned to table. She couldn’t believe she’d been outbid like that. Part of her was happy considering she wasn’t really prepared for the financial consequences of this little auction, but that didn’t make her forget the date Y/n would be going on with Lauren. Everyone else was scattered around the gym. Dancing with their dates, eating the refreshments, or playing the various valentine’s day them games that they had set up. The redhead didn’t look up when the younger teacher joined her but she knew exactly who had joined her even without looking.

“Damn red, if you wanted to go out with me that bad you could’ve just asked me. I wouldn’t have charged $500 for one night. I might’ve made you cook for me, but five big ones is asking a bit much especially when I actually like you.” Y/n said taking a sip of the punch they were serving. Melissa gazed at the younger woman a little dumbfounded but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued to talk. “Lauren and I are gonna go mini golfing Saturday morning, yuck I know. But I was thinking you and I could do dinner Saturday, if you’re not busy. That way I can get that out of the way. Do you she’ll try to kill me? I’m a little scared and I know I said there were no cons but that was before she basically jumped on the table to ensure she could spend $500 on an hour of my time…” Y/n continued to ramble.

Melissa had no choice but to laugh as she listened. “Is this you asking me out?” The older woman finally interrupted, trying to play it cool.

“I didn’t think I needed to ask you formally, since you almost spent $1,000 to keep me from going out with someone else.” Y/n grinned as she finally faced Melissa.

“Oh you’re exaggerating now.” Melissa scoffed as her cheeks heated a bit.

“Well duh, who else can say they had a Philly eleven start a bidding war over them. I’m going to milk this as much as I can. I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. Melissa Schemmenti almost emptied her bank account for me.”

“Oh shut it will you.” Melissa groaned and shoved the younger teacher playfully. “The answer is yes. Even if you don’t think you need to ask me formally. I’d love to do dinner Saturday night. And any other night you’d like.”

“Good. Cause I can be very hungry. And all I’ve heard is that you’re like the best cook in Philly.” Y/n grinned scooting her folding chair over closer to Melissa’s.

“Oh you’re in for a treat. And a Schemmenti meal is worth well over five hundred bucks.” Melissa teased.

“Yeah, well so are you Red.” Y/n smiled softly leaning over to kiss Melissa’s blushing cheek sweetly.

Outbid but extremely happy.

#lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary x reader #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #msschemmenti

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skyeventide · 2 months

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does the Oath of Feanor work as a magical compulsion, or does it have magical properties, and are its consequences real?

yes, because the magic of Arda is also based on words of power, and it would be dissatisfying and limiting to assume that somehow that power doesn't work in this specific instance. no, because even if Feanor is the one speaking, not even his power could bend the fate of elves to that extent. yes, because the fate of any one people can be bent, delayed, or weirdly modified until an oath is fulfilled; in LOTR, the ghosts of the path of the dead prove it. no, because Manwe and Varda would not feel bound to enforce an oath of death with them as witnesses, and it goes against the rules of oathing. yes, because the enforcer is Eru, they just stand as witnesses and do not have the power to release the swearers as Eru would. no, because we don't even know if Eru accepted that oath. yes, because if the oath was invalid from the start, it would be beyond callous of Manwe and Varda not to inform the swearers and allow the consequences of the oath to happen. no, because a magical compulsion would remove or to an extent at least lessen responsibility of actions taken in its pursuit. yes, because the author of the story acknowledges a certain "will" of the oath by making it wake or sleep with active verbs. no, because even swearing without additional magic on top can feel like a compulsion to do things or to keep going that otherwise would not exist or not be felt by a given swearer. yes, because no matter what the everlasting darkness is or does, it can be real independently from any other prior compulsion to act; in other words, there may not be a magical property to the oath, but its called consequences for the swearers are very real. no, because there's several slightly different versions of the oath across the texts, and it's impossible to do a literal, word for word reading of its lines if it's possible to recite it slightly differently at a given time. yes, because the only valid version is the original pronounced by Feanor in Tirion, you can't wiggle out of that one. no, because who's to say that was recorded correctly, it's far too poetic for a sudden decision. yes, because who's to say that Feanor couldn't whip out all that via improvisation, I bet he could. yes, because other characters beyond the sons of Feanor treat the oath as something absolutely serious and real, and that includes Finrod in speaking to Andreth, when he says that Eru's name is not called upon even in jest, as well as Melian, when pointing out the strong forces awakened by involving that power. no, because neither of them can talk to Eru anyway. yes, because it's narratively more satisfying to imagine characters morally struggle against something that is eventually unbreakable and unavoidable like in any good tragedy. no, because it's narratively more satisfying to imagine characters do it to themselves and compromise with who they are out of family loyalty. yes, because the curse of Mandos actively turns it against the swearers into a betraying force, a consequence that wouldn't otherwise be a given, that is, nothing says that everything they start well would have finished badly and that the oath would have led them to defeat, and if it weren't magical before Mandos' addition, it is now. no, because Amrod's death in a draft would prove it breakable through his (admittedly only guessed) desire to turn back. yes, because he still died in the process, aka the everlasting darkness claimed him for being an oathbreaker. no, because how is it possible that it's simultaneously unbreakable and broken. yes, because the fate of arda and that of elves is inscribed within the eternal paradox of everything being predicted and everything being free will, and that will never be solved, neither regarding the fate of the elves nor the oath of Feanor. no, because the oath is a narrative device. yes, because the oath is a narrative device. three hundred more lines.

hope this helps. hope it doesn't. your pick.

#I am most definitely not normal about it #oath of Feanor #Feanor #The Silmarillion

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readerthatreadsss · 1 year

Note

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

#tasm peter parker #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter smut #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!peter x y/n #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield #marvel smut #smut #oneshot #welcome back #tasm!peter parker smut

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blissfullyapillow · 2 months

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┃"I’ve missed you."

✧˖°. Blade x fem reader

✧˖°. wc: 1,393~

✧˖°. Prompt: When a character desperately misses their partner after being apart for far too long.

✧˖°. Warnings: smut/explicit (18+) & poetic cheesiness lol

✧˖°. Pillow Talks: I need Blade so badly.ᐟ.ᐟ Anyway, I’ve returned (temporarily) to deliver something that’s been sitting in my drafts for far too long now. I hope you enjoy .ᐟ (,,>ヮ<,,) <3

✧˖°. Masterlist

Credits: @/sillyakito on pinterest

The first time I heard Blade murmur “I’ve missed you,” I thought I’d imagined it. Blade is not someone who openly expresses his thoughts and feelings through words, rather he prefers to portray his feelings through meaningful actions.

I quickly realized I hadn’t imagined the shy words that left his lips, since his sharp eyes reflected uncertainty when they met my gaze.

I wasted no time pulling him into my arms, just so I could whisper my response against the shell of his ear.

“I missed you too.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Now it’s become something of a routine. Every reunion I celebrate with Blade, typically after one too many nights away from the comfort of his arms, the first words out of his mouth are always the same.

“I missed you.”

Those words never fail to warm my heart.

To reiterate; although Blade has his moments, he tends to favor action over words. So, it feels all too natural when innocent touches shift to something akin to a burning flame that lights my skin ablaze.

𓆩♡𓆪

The familiar caress of his rough palms cease in favor of gently lowering me beneath him. Now, I lay before him on my back as his imposing figure hovers over me. Eyes redder than the leaves on a maple tree hold my gaze. He conveys the ardent passion that resides within them through the fierce grip he has on my hip.

His intense gaze threatens to steal more than just my breath; my heart yearns to make a home in his rugged palms, my body surrenders to the eager strokes of his fingers along my inner thigh, all while my soul craves nothing more than to be forever intertwined with his, if only to experience his love in every life of mine.

His hand releases my hip so his arm can wrap around me, pulling both my body and my lips into his expectant embrace.

He takes his time to savor the taste of my lips. I feel the muscles within his arm tense. His body curls over mine as if he’s about to fall, yet his free hand rests beside my head to support his weight.

His lips release mine from its tantalizing captivity. A desperate gasp escapes his lips; my eyes eagerly open to witness his strained breaths and flushed cheeks.

I feel the muscles in his arm flex, the sensation eliciting a noise of surprise from me.

He smirks.

A well known sight that never fails to set my heart ablaze.

He lowers himself to press his weight against me, his free hand moves to rest on my lower back, flattening his palm against my feverish skin.

His mouth makes a slow descent, languidly savoring the taste of my skin as it memorizes every dip and curve. His lips linger on every mark and scar he happens upon, pressing endearingly long kisses against them.

The attention my body is receiving borders on being too much to bear. My heart hurts; it’s a surreal feeling, to be held so delicately, as if everything he’s ever come to love is held within his strong, unrelenting grip.

“I love you.” The words sound strained coming from my lips, perhaps due to the tears that wet my lashes.

His flattened palm moves, unhurried, ascending from my back to my face before it cups my cheek.

"love.. that word isn't enough to express how I feel about you."

Our kiss tastes a bit salty; his heartfelt admission broke the dam that held my tears at bay.

His mouth is reluctant to leave mine, avidly pursuing after my attempt to part for air.

I submit to the heady emotions Blade’s actions and words impose upon me, succumbing to everything that is Blade.

It’s… intoxicating.

My body burns with the passion Blade’s love inflicts upon me. His arm firmly holds me in place to prevent any possible chance I have of escaping.

Not that I’d ever want to flee; I find the very thought abhorrent.

When he's finally satiated, temporarily, his mouth pulls away. I desperately gasp in an attempt to acquire the oxygen my lungs have been denied.

I struggle to open my eyes, lost in my desire for the man holding me so close to his heart. Even so, my eyes reveal themselves as they naturally search for his gaze.

I’m met with an alluring sight.

His eyes are intently focused on my every move, devouring every subtle twitch of my muscles with his fervid stare.

It nearly causes me to shy away.

He dips his head, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. In almost an inaudible murmur, with the deepest voice I’ve heard from him to date, he groans.

“Tell me what you want, baby."

An embarrassing high pitched whine leaves my lips.

When the sound reaches Blade's ears, he emits another deep groan as his hips hotly buck against mine.

Unbeknownst to me, the sound of my desperate whine only stoked the fires of the urgent zeal that threatens to consume his very being; He’s afraid he’ll perish if he can’t savor the taste of his heart’s desire this instant.

So, with a newfound sense of urgency, he murmurs his question once more.

“Tell me what you want, baby."

My answer is so immediate I almost talk over him.

“You.”

A loud, breathy whine escapes me as his hand swiftly moves from my cheek to my thigh, effortlessly lifting my leg to rest upon his shoulder. His arm finally releases me from his firm grasp to lift my other leg onto his unoccupied shoulder.

Now, both my legs rest upon his shoulders as he cages me beneath him.

He unhurriedly drags his mouth down the expanse of my torso, playfully nipping at my skin as he travels to his destination. Now, between my legs, he presses a lingering kiss to my inner thigh. I jolt with a start when I feel his tongue lap at my arousal.

𓆩♡𓆪

I’m a moaning mess under him moments later, and his muffled grunts fuel my longing for him.

“Fuck, you turn me on so much with the noises you make,” he groans, thrusting his hips up into mine. I whimper softly, caging him in as my legs wrap tightly around his waist.

“Look at me.”

His request surprises me, but I’d be a fool to deny him. With great effort I open my eyes to look at him, and the rapture within his gaze captivates me like no other.

“Kiss me.”

His simple statement sends an electrifying jolt to my heart.

My lips are drawn to his like a magnet; our lips create a tight seal as his hips follow a relentless rhythm against mine.

I have no control over my voice as we reach our climax together. He holds me close, so close I can feel his heart pound against my own racing heart.

Blade slowly fills me up to the brim.

I swear nothing I’ve experienced prior has ever felt more satisfying.

Our tired bodies heave in unison as we catch our breath. Blade dips his head down to rest his forehead against mine.

I admire him as his chest slows its previous rapid rise and fall.

Aeons. He’s a sight for sore eyes.

His love presents itself in the soft smile on his lips, in the tender way his hand cups my cheek as he, too, admires my features. It manifests in the way he reaches over for the glass of water he kept nearby for this very moment.

The water slides down my throat with ease, it’s as rejuvenating as it is refreshing.

“I missed you.” His voice is a little hoarse, brimming with an uncharacteristic amount of emotion.

My hands delicately brush his hair aside.

He hums quietly, expressing his content with my actions.

“I’ve missed you too.” My voice drips with emotion, and Blade emits a pleased sound at this revelation. A soft noise of appreciation slips from my lips when he shifts his position so we can cuddle comfortably.

Sleep finds us easily that night. It acts as a warm blanket, while our dreams are the pillows beneath our heads.

Yet, the love I feel in my heart derives solely from the man sleeping in my arms.

Blade, the man who cherishes the heart that he holds so tenderly in his hands.

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mysumeow · 9 months

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warnings: afab genitalia, gn pronouns. lyney's a switch here.

drabble

a/n: i expanded from this idea i had yesterday about lyney deliberately hiding his cat ears and tail. i know theres a more reasonable explanation, maybe lynette and lyney are half siblings or someting idk. but for now, its free real estate. also, the pending drafts i have since may are side eyeing me.

To render the flirty and chatty magician Lyney speechless is a sight few people get to see.

And there he was, on his back, on the floor, with you straddling his hips, as your attempt at avoiding his fall was futile.

"I didn’t expect you to take me up on my offer," he was referring to, mere seconds ago, when you asked what flavor his chapstick was, and he playfully answered, 'why don’t you try it yourself’ as he licked his lips with a sultry look in his eyes. "My, aren’t you a brave one,"

However, you were more perplexed by something else. To be precise, the cat ears that sprouted from his head.

He noticed your prolonged stare at somewhere else other than his eyes, to which he inquired: "What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

"I didn’t know you had cat ears," you observed and helped him stand up.

A shiver ran down his body when your fingers made contact with his sensitive ears. His face grew warmer the longer you stroked them.

He felt himself harden at your attention and, bashfully, tried to divert it somewhere else by changing the conversation.

"Why do you hide them?" you weren’t having any of that. "You look cute,"

"For the sake of the performance, of course. One cat person on stage is interesting enough, but having two of the same makes it less special. That’s how I see it, at least."

Even though you had a different opinion on his take, you didn’t budge on it.

"You appear to be oddly into this aspect of my physique. Had I known sooner, I would’ve shown them to—" he cut himself off before a whine escaped his mouth at the sensation of you stroking his tail with feather-like touches. "S-Stop that, ah—!" you blew air onto his ear, as you pressed your palm on the obvious stiffness concealed under his clothes.

Even though he did want you to go on, he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of being teased and played with. This was quite new to him.

"If we’re going to do something, we must hurry up, yes? I have a performance in about half an hour."

"I can work with that, seeing as having your cute tail and ears caressed enhances your arousal," you noted with the same teasing tone he usually used on you when the roles were reversed. You kissed his cheek and moved back up again to kiss his ear too. "Ooh, I wonder what would happen if I did this," you sang playfully, and your free hand rubbed the tip of his other ear.

Despite his efforts to cover his sounds and control his squirming, every now and then he would jolt whenever you found a weak spot.

"You sure know how to keep people’s eyes on you," you slipped a finger under the harness on his thigh and pulled it. The harness wasn’t skin-tight, so when you released the material, it didn’t deliver the snapping sound you were looking forward to.

You were having fun, and so was he. Regardless, the need to regain his control grew stronger, and he grabbed your wrist to lead you to sit on his lap.

"And with minimum effort, so do you. I hope you had fun riling me up," he said as he slid his hand under your clothes, gloved fingers coming into contact with your dripping arousal. "My cat-like attributes may place me in a vulnerable state, but I also know your weak spots,"

#genshin smut #lyney smut #/ᐠ - ˕ -マ .. smut

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theelazaruspit · 6 months

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Lazy Sunday | Husband!John Price x Author!Reader

Getting some much-needed stress relief from your doting husband

Warning/content: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, gentle dom!price, established relationship, porn with plot, slow(ish) burn, angst, hurt/comfort, reader wears glasses, discussion of self-doubt and insecurity, cunnilingus, fingering, dumbification if you squint? (You’re just really relaxed), creampie, squirting, no use of y/n, they’re grossly in love idk what else to tell you honestly, but if I missed anything, let me know! Word count: 4.9k.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for ages, and I've been chipping away at it slowly, but after seeing @ghosts-cyphera 's husband!price drabble, I rose from the metaphorical dead, and here we are, so thank you, Alora, for being a fellow price enjoyer and just a gem, and I hope you all enjoy <3

Everything was just too much.

You’re stiff, jaw clenched, shoulders tense, and you can feel a migraine forming between your eyes. It’s a little ridiculous, really. By all accounts, you should be more relaxed. The hard work was finished, your novel was complete, the accompanying art had been chosen, and all the finer details were squared away; now, all that was left was publishing, though that was the publisher’s headache, not yours. It was the waiting that always got to you.

No matter how many times you’d gone through the process, no matter how many works you published, the anticipation never failed to eat away at you. There is a special kind of stress that comes with releasing your art into the world, in having people get a glimpse into your mind. While it’s gratifying to share your hard work with the masses, once it leaves you, it’s no longer only your own, and others are free to interpret it as they please. It’s deeply personal and scary like you’re bearing your soul to the public, but what’s done is done. All the late nights spent writing were over, and now you’re alone with your thoughts again.

You’ve tried everything to keep yourself busy. Your office is far cleaner now than it was before your husband left, both of your laundry was done with all the garments being put in their rightful place, and there was a cake on the counter from your late-night baking excursion a few days ago.

All of your usual distractions failed you. Nothing has been able to loosen the knot coiling itself in your chest. It’s silly; this is not your first book. The first was well received, a fact you should be grateful for, and you are. However, its success set a precedent. What if this one wasn’t as good? What if it didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations? The more questions you considered, the more withdrawn you became, allowing your doubts to swallow you whole. And that’s how you ended up back where you started, staring blankly at an empty document. You (foolishly) believed that writing could help, thinking a fresh idea would clear your conscience, but nothing comes. So you sit, hoping for anything to inspire you, but all you hear is the voice in the back of your head taunting you.

For a fleeting moment, you consider seeking the comfort of your husband; however, you quickly decide against it.

Not at all because you didn’t think he could soothe you. If anything, he knows better than anyone else how to keep you grounded, but you’re painfully aware of how rare it is for John to get time off, and it would be unfair to take that much-needed relaxation away from him with your problems. Still, you yearn for the solace he provides you. It’s absurd to miss someone who’s a mere twenty feet away, someone you could easily see. But, you stubbornly resist the temptation to steal his time, even if you know he’d want you to. He was insistent that you could never bother him, but you still had your doubts.

Compared to everything he goes through, your insecurities are small and insignificant; you can handle this on your own, even though you feel your eyes beginning to dry the longer you stare at the bright white void in front of you. A long groan escapes you as you toss your glasses unceremoniously onto your desk (had they fallen? You couldn’t be bothered to check) before burying your head in your hands.

“You’ve got this,” You mutter to yourself. It’s hardly convincing. Did you actually have this? You’re not entirely sure, but it doesn’t hurt trying.

You’re unsure how long you wallowed before your husband appeared in the doorway. Despite being uncharacteristically patient given the circumstances, you knew it was only a matter of time before he’d come to you. Rarely would you hide away in your office while he was home; usually, you’d rushed into his arms to steal his warmth every opportunity you got, but he tried to be understanding. Having him back in the house was just as much of an adjustment for you as it was for him, and he wanted to be considerate of that. Though his comings and goings had slowed considerably over the span of your relationship, he knew they still weighed on you, and he also knew you’d sooner die than admit that, so he gave you space.

But after another hour passes, his patience wears thin. This was a while even for you, and he wanted to make sure you were alright. So, ever the diligent lover, he prepares you a peace offering, a perfectly brewed cup of your favorite tea, and heads to your door.

His suspicions that you weren’t as well off as you claimed are confirmed when he’s greeted with the back of your hunched-over form, papers strewn across your desk. It takes one glance at you for John to know the kind of evening you’re having despite your best efforts to hide it. The stress practically radiates off you, casting a thick layer of tension in the room. The last thing he wants is to startle you, so he watches, waiting for you to acknowledge his presence. But the longer he rests against the doorframe, the sooner he realizes you haven’t noticed him yet, another sign that something isn’t quite right.

You didn’t have to say anything for him to know what you were thinking. He can practically hear the voices in your head lying to you, slowly breaking you down, and he feels his heart clench. It’s times like this when he wishes your mind was kinder to you, that it afforded you the same kindness you so freely gave others. He also wished you would let him help you. Your independence has always been something he admired and was one of the first things he noticed that drew him to you. You were radiant, ethereal, having an air of confidence and grace about you that followed you wherever you went, practically lighting your path.

However, your independence made it difficult for you to depend on him. He told you no fewer than a million times, practically pleaded with you to let him shoulder your burdens, to tell you that no problem was too small to tell him about, and while you’d opened up over the years, he could see that your walls were up. Nevertheless, he would do everything he could to chip away at them, to take you out of your head for a while.

He walks over to you slowly, placing the mug down before lightly rubbing your shoulders. You know he’s there, immediately feeling comforted by his presence, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. You don’t want him to see you like this, not while you look like a sad puppy, but he persists, taking your silence as an invitation to speak.

“Made you some tea, love,” he says softly, receiving only a muffled hum of acknowledgment. Undeterred, he keeps massaging your shoulders, applying a bit more pressure, a soft smile gracing his features when you lean into his touch. His movements are slow intentional, wanting to ease you into the feeling.

He doesn’t have to look at your face, which has since been laid flat on your desktop, to know your brows are furrowed, and he wants nothing more than to smooth away the creases with his fingers.

Instead, he turns your chair to face him, forcing you to pick your head up. He ignores the whine you let out upon realizing that he’s not going to let you bask in your sadness in peace, as well as the glare you give him as you put your glasses on. There’s no malice behind your gaze, and he can see you fighting back a smile, causing his grin to widen.

“Good morning, lovely.”

“It’s not morning, and I probably look like shit” You sigh.

You’re right; it wasn’t morning, but the latter was far from the truth. John loved you in all your forms, but this, you at home in your comfy clothes, was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen, even if you were being a little grouchy. He doesn’t take it personally. No, he knows you’re frustration is with yourself, which only motivates him to relax you more.

He doesn’t ask if you’re okay; you both know you aren’t, so he settles with a more helpful question: asking what you need. It’s more a formality than anything because he already knows the answer. It’s clear you don’t want to talk because if you did, you would have by now. He’s no stranger to nights spent holding you, listening to you vent about everything troubling you as you lay your head on his chest, and while he welcomes your rambles, you’re too tangled up in your thoughts to get the words out.

No, you needed something else. You needed a break; you needed someone you trusted to take control for a while, and who was better suited for the task than him? You both knew he wouldn’t move until you asked him to because even when he’s in control, he’s still at your mercy.

You don’t answer him immediately, not that he expected you to. For all his gentle coaxing, the question was surprisingly direct, and it caught you off guard. You know what you want. You want to climb into bed, wrap yourself in blankets, and sleep, and no matter how much you try to deny it, you also want to melt into your husband’s touch while you do. But with how restless you are, that seems impossible. To do that, first, you would need to relax, something you’re notoriously bad at. John would be eager to assist, to soothe the storm that rages within you, but you also know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t help you if you didn’t ask. So, reluctantly, you confess you’re having trouble relaxing, that there are too many thoughts running through your head to turn your brain off. Once you start, it’s as if you’ve opened Pandora’s box and you just break. All the emotions you’ve tried to suppress come pouring out mostly incoherently. In your frenzy, you barely notice that John moved to kneel in front of you until you feel his hand cup your jaw.

He doesn’t get too close, not wanting to overwhelm you, because he knows how hard this is for you already.

You’re a lot like him in that way, birds of a feather, he supposes, as you both have difficulty opening up and trusting others. He’s forever humbled by the fact that you, wonderfully amazing you, chose him, and it’s not something he takes for granted. He values all of the time you spend together, even if you aren’t in the best of spirits. God knows he’s had his fair share of melancholic moments that you worked him through, and it is at that moment he is determined to do the same for you, to help you feel better.

“Shh, it’s alright, love, I have you. There’s nothing you need to worry about. I’ll take care of everything, alright? I’ll give you what you need,” He reassures you in that low timbre you’ve missed so much. Your nod is rewarded with a light kiss on the cheek before he stands up, pulling you up from your chair with him.

You let out a yelp of surprise when he scoops you up and carries you towards your bedroom. His strength never fails to surprise you, but you don’t have time to dwell on it when he gently places you on the edge of your bed. For the second time tonight, he kneels before you, taking your hands in his while looking you in the eye.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you?” His question is met with a scoff.

“Of course I do. I don’t think there’s anyone in this world that loves me more.”

“Well, I’d certainly hope not. Otherwise, we’d have a problem on our hands.” He chuckles, running his thumb over your knuckles before continuing, “I want you to do something for me. You’re so smart, love, bloody brilliant. But right now, I don’t want you to think. I just want you to feel. Can you do that f’me, angel? Let me make you feel good.”

You nod as you did before, only this time, you’re met with a shake of his head.

“Need your words, sweetheart”

The “please” that escapes you is more breathless than you expected. He had hardly touched you, and you could already feel a bit dazed by the intensity of his stare. Your soft confirmation is met with a smile before he works you out of your sweats and guides you to lay flat on the bed. He takes his time to press kisses up your thigh, slowly making his way to your center, nipping every now and then, eliciting little gasps from you. And while you appreciate his desire to worship you, you were getting impatient. The sight of him so close to where you need him but not touching you was almost too much to bear.

Before you can protest, he takes pity on you, slips your panties down, and rewards your patience with a long lick up your slit paired with a chaste kiss to your clit.

Your moment of reprieve doesn’t last long before he absolutely devours you, laving at your folds without another care in the world. The strokes of his tongue are slow but firm, his mouth practically molded to your form, following you no matter how much you move and shake. He wants to get you used to the feeling, give you time to surrender yourself to him, and you’re starting to. He sees the way you grasp at the sheets, mindlessly looking for something, anything to anchor you, and he’s quick to provide.

You hadn’t realized how much you were squirming until he pulled back, one calloused hand stroking your inner thigh with the other lacing his fingers with yours while instructing you to relax, reminding you to be good for him, to take all that he’s giving you. You look angelic, eyes rolled back, your body flushed, a sheen of sweat forming, and every touch driving you closer to the edge. But he knows it’s not enough. Had you been calmer and less frazzled, you would have reached your peak already, but right now, you need a push to help you over the edge.

When he takes his hand off your thigh and lets his fingers join his tongue, your back bows. If not for his firm grip, you may have fallen off the bed, but there is no need to worry about that. John’s got you; he always does.

It’s overwhelming having him so wholly focused on you, feeling his deep, muffled groans against your center, and it’s clear he wasn’t faring much better.

He may be helping you destress, but you know your husband well enough to know he’s enjoying this as much as you are, if not more. John Price is not a selfish man, far from it. Many have speculated that his selflessness will be his downfall. But, at this moment, he can’t help but think about himself. Can’t help but think about how his cock is straining in his trousers, which are becoming almost distractingly tight, about how he wants nothing more than to pump you full of his cum. But he’s a patient man. He understands that he’ll get there eventually. No, for now, he’s more than happy to have you soaking his beard. What’s important at this moment is getting you to cum on his tongue, on his fingers, because he knows the wetter you are, the easier it’ll be to slip into you, leaving him to settle for grinding himself against the bed for relief, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

Despite your whines and pleas for him to speed up, for him to give you more, he knows better. He keeps the same pace, knowing the slow build, while seemingly tortuous, will make you cum that much harder, and that’s exactly what he wants. He wants you boneless, without a single thought that isn’t him and how good he’s making you feel. There was no need to rush, you had all night, and there’s no place he’d rather be than here, with his fingers stuffed in your gorgeous pussy while he laps at your folds.

The sounds you two are making are nothing short of obscene. Your keens and his moans filled the room. And god, you were so fucking wet you were practically leaking down his wrist, and when your moans start rising in pitch, he knows you’re close. All it takes are a few more strokes of fingers before you’re cumming, your body going rigid with a broken sob. John works you through it, lapping up your spend and rubbing barely there circles around your clit to prolong your pleasure while patiently waiting for you to catch your breath.

When your trembling subsides, he carefully removes his fingers, using his now free hand to smooth over your thighs, murmuring praises about how well you did for him before standing, finally ridding himself of his clothes. You look so beautiful like this, spread out, panting, still glistening with your release. It just makes him want to ruin you, but always the gentleman, he checks in with you first.

“Still with me, love?” he teases, hands soothing at your sides, earning him a laugh, a genuine laugh. One that makes your eyes crinkle, and a chuckle of his own leaves him in response. It’s a good sign; it’s progress, but he knows you’re not entirely unwound yet. He knows you still have more left in you.

You pull him in for a kiss that he eagerly accepts. It’s tender, intimate. You can taste yourself on his lips, and John’s complete and utter reverence for you almost makes you shy. His love for you flows through him and pours into his touch when he deepens the kiss, and you can’t help but lean into it.

“I want more. I need to feel you,” you confess against his lips.

“How do you want me?” he murmurs, moving to trail kisses down your neck. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. All you have to do is ask,” and you know he means it. He’d bring you the moon and the stars if you wished.

“From behind, I don’t want to think about anything but how good you feel,” you said, pulling away to lay on your stomach before being stopped by John’s hand on your shoulder, turning you towards him. Your momentary confusion quickly dissipates when you realize what he’s doing.

He’s taking off your glasses.

Admittedly, in your haze, you’d forgotten you still had them on, so used to the familiar weight, but it makes your heart swell as you watch him place them delicately on your bedside table. It’s such a small gesture, but it’s endearing, and it reminds you how lucky you are to have such an attentive, caring lover, and you can’t help but pull him in for another kiss. John adores the lovestruck look you give him as you pull away, eyes bleary, pupils dilated. And though he could look at it all day, he reluctantly moves away, readjusting you so you’re face down on the bed before slotting himself between your legs.

A contented sigh leaves you as you settle into your plush bedding, feeling thankful you’d insisted on replacing those threadbare monstrosities your husband called “sheets” (he’d huffed and rolled his eyes at your dramatics– “they are not going to rip your skin off” –but deep down he loved them too) and close your eyes, sinking into John’s touch.

“Ready for me?” He questions, smoothing a hand up your spine, relishing in your shiver.

“Yes, need you to fuck me, John, please,” you breath, and who was he to deny you?

At your confirmation, he pushes in with a languid thrust, pulling you flush against him, giving you time to adjust. He can’t help but let out a low grumble at the view in front of him. He hasn’t even moved yet, and you’re already driving him insane. The feeling of being enveloped by you is indescribable. To be this close, to truly feel you, is unlike anything he’s ever experienced, and judging by the way you’re whimpering and trying to grind yourself back into him, he knows you feel the same.

He sets a steady pace, unhurried, leisurely, and revels in the quiet mewls you let out. The tension pulling your muscles taut dissipated with every thrust, and John couldn’t be happier because that’s what he wanted.

He wants to push all of those bad thoughts away. All he wants you to think about is him and how good he’s making you feel and to make you cum over and over until you’re spent.

“That feel good, love?” he whispers in your ear, his chest pressed to your back.

“Yes, f-fuck s’good,” you gasp out, followed by a broken “I love you” that he returns while quickening his pace, fucking you deeper. He can’t help it, really. Hearing the fondness in your voice makes him want to worship you more, causing him to aim for the spot that always makes you shake, and he knows he’s got it when he hears your high-pitched keen.

You’re begging now, desperate pleas of “Please don’t stop” and “right there,” and he doesn’t need to see your face to know that your eyes are scrunched closed, mouth agape, to know that you look stunning. He wishes he could see your face, to see you when you reach your peak that you’re edging closer and closer to, and he will, but after you cum again for him.

“That’s it, good girl, always takin’ me so well,” he praises. “Take what you need. I won’t stop, promise. Just want to make you feel so good don’t want you to think about anything but cumming. You close f’me, love? Yeah? That pretty little cunt gonna soak my cock?” he questions, lifting your hips to rub your aching clit, knowing all you need is a little pressure to send you over the edge.

Your words may be muffled, but your responding string of “yes” s are clear as day and only make him rut into you deeper. He needs you to fall over that edge again. Needs you to alleviate all that stress, and when you finally reach your peak with a muted sob of his name, he slows but doesn’t stop, watching in awe of the way you spasm around him, and waits for you to settle.

You’re more pliant now, a bit hazy with pleasure, but he’s not done with you yet. No, he needs you, his beautiful, distinguished wife, to fully surrender yourself to him and the pleasure he’s bringing you, even if only for a while. All those years ago, he vowed to protect you, even if it’s from yourself, and he plans to do just that. He knows you have one more in you, and he intends to wring it out of you.

A contented sigh escapes him as he pulls out before gently lifting you and laying you flat on your back once more. And when he sees your face, he’s reminded of just how breathtaking you are. Not that he ever forgot, but it’s a sight he never tires of. You’re one of the most precious beings he’s ever encountered, a goddess whom he’s eternally grateful has chosen to bless him with your presence, but now? Now, you’re glowing. He wishes he could immortalize the image in front of him, your eyes lidded, with a soft, blissed-out grin playing on your lips, but he’s brought back by the sound of your voice.

“You’re staring,” you tease, voice a little hoarse from use as you re-settle your glasses on your face.

“I could never get tired of looking at you, sweetheart,” he responds earnestly, unashamed that he had been caught because he truly could. There was just something about you that brought out such genuine affection in him. You give so much of yourself to others, and it makes him want to do everything in his power to pour the same love back into you. He can’t help but want to fulfill your every need. You deserve the world. Leaning into another kiss, he tries to convey what he can’t through words through his touch.

This is more passionate than the last, but he’s met with the same vigor from you. It’s easy to forget the task at hand, but your soft moans were enough of a reminder that he wasn’t finished with you yet.

Lowering you back onto the bed, he guides himself into you, a deep groan rumbling in his chest while your mouth falls agape. There’s less pretense this time. You’re more than ready for him to start moving and thank god for it because as patient as he is, he’s only human, and you’re both getting desperate.

And when he pushes your knees towards your chest, laying your legs over his shoulders, the sound you make is borderline pornographic, and it’s then he realizes you may actually be the death of him. Holding himself back is proving more difficult by the second, so he opts for placing kisses on your calves to ground himself. He moves his hands, one going to hold the fat of your thigh for leverage while the other goes to cup your jaw. Any other time, he’d coax you to look at him, applying just enough pressure to make you face him, but he can see how overwhelmed you are.

Peering down at you, gaze unwavering, he sees your eyes barely open, all cloudy and lust blown, and he can’t help but tease you just a little, not that you mind.

“That’s it, this what you needed?” he practically coos at you, voice low and saccharine and growing gruffer by the second. “I haven’t been taking proper care of my angel, have I? No, no, that won’t do. Gotta make up for lost time. Poor thing, havin’ no one to fuck you properly when I’m not around. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

You try to answer, you really do, try to tell him you’ve missed him more and that no one makes you feel the way he does, but the words are like lead on your tongue, and your head is starting to feel fuzzy. The steady grind of his hips into yours and the feeling of being completely surrounded by him leaves you breathless, and all you can manage is a high-pitched sob that seems to satisfy him enough, and he keeps the pace.

“Gonna be good and give me one more? Of course, you’re my perfect girl, always so obedient.” Your responding gasp is immediately met with praise. In truth, at the moment, you’d do just about anything he asked, and you could feel the pressure building quicker, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Don’t look away, love. Wanna see those pretty eyes get all teary for me” he murmurs, words slightly slurred, and you distantly realize he’s not as unaffected as you thought. “Look so good like this, just need you to let go. Can you do that? Gonna be my sweet girl and cum for me. Let go for me, love.”

His gentle command, his firm grip, the pressure of him inside you paired with the almost feral glint in his eyes do you in, and before you know it, you’re back is arching, and you just gush for him with a soundless scream, soaking your lower halves. John isn’t far behind, and the relief of finally pumping you full is almost too much. You always get so tight when you cum, as if you don’t wanna let him go, so he indulges you, lowering your legs but not pulling out yet, instead opting to lay on top of you.

For a while, neither of you moves, trying to gain your bearings, filling the room with your soft pants.

Everything feels so serene, as if you two are the only people in the world. You exhale a contented sigh, eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of John’s body weight atop you.

After some time, he pulls out, shushing your whine of protest with a quick kiss before pulling you into his chest. As you burrow yourself further into him, John wraps you up in his arms. You always get so clingy after, a fact you’re endlessly embarrassed by, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s just another testament to how content, how safe you feel with him, and he cherishes the ability to give you the attention you crave.

Later, he’d clean you up, make you another cup of tea, seeing as the first was abandoned in your haste, get your favorite takeout, and set you up for a lazy night in, but for now, he holds you close. Warmth and exhaustion are seeping into your bones, and you peer up at John through your lashes and utter a quiet “thank you.”

“No need to thank me, love. I’ll always be here for you,” he reminds, giving you a featherlight kiss on your forehead before continuing, “Get some sleep”

And as you drift off, you can’t help the upturn of your lips. Your mind was quiet, and you finally got the sleep you craved.

#john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price smut #captain john price x reader #price x reader #price smut #captain price #captain john price #john price

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miyuhpapayuh · 9 months

Text

Beat.

Part one here.

A/n: I definitely opened that draft at 12 or so and finished a little after 3am, so you heathens better appreciate this shit! Goodnight/good mornin' 🤭 enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ooh shit,” she yelps as he drives into her with reckless abandon, one of his large hands gripping her neck, the other glued to her hip, rutting her back against him.

Her eyes stay in the back of her head, that sweet spot of hers being pressed into with every single stroke. Her fingers wrap up in the sheets.

“Fat fuckin’ dick… holy shit, it's hittin’ my spot!”

“Good ass pussy,” he says with a smack to her ass, “drippin’ all on me… makin’ a fuckin’ mess.”

“Fuuuck, just like that..” she whines, as he speeds up and knocks the breath out of her chest. Her moans choppy and winded as she begins to throw it back on him.

“Fuck me back, just like that,” he grunts, adding fuel to her fire as he swats her ass again and watches it jiggle.

Her ass claps in tandem with the snap of his hips, her body arching away as it starts feeling too good.

“Where you goin’, baby?” He taunts, moving his other hand to her hip, pulling her back onto him a bit harder.

“So g-good, baby! It's so fucking— unh!” Her thighs squish together as he makes her cum again. He continues, loving the wild moans that leave her lips.

“Sound so fuckin’ good… keep them thighs together for me,” he commands, leaning back and angling his hips up, poking another sweet spot inside of her.

Her hands cover his as she bends all the way onto the bed, instantly gasping at the feeling.

She whines into the sheets, feeling like he was tryna turn her inside out as another orgasm comes rushing toward her.

“Oh my god!” She squeals, splashing his lap once again.

Flipping her over and sliding right back inside, he watches the way her eyes roll back, those pretty lips parting to let her sweet moans through as he thrusts into her.

Her hands find the sheets, while one of his large hands sits on her lower belly, pushing down every time he pushes deep inside.

“Fuckkk!” She whines incredulously, her wild eyes staring back at him and that wicked smirk. The pressure in her stomach was doubling by the second.

“Mmhm, squirt on this dick,” he spat.

Every stroke makes her body twist and arch into his solid one, grabbing the hand that is pressing on her stomach, squeezing desperately.

“C’mon, wet me up, baby.” He teases, strokes hitting upward again, poking right at the spot that's about to give him the reaction he's looking for.

“Unh– right there! Right fucking th—! Shi–it! I'm gonna c— I'm gonna..” her eyes rolled back as she wet up his lap and stomach, the sensation making her thighs squeeze together.

Prying them right back open, he pulls out and leans down to lick her clean, those damn hums of his vibrating through as her jumpy body comes down from such a high.

"You're so nasty," she breathes, running a hand through his locs.

Pushing back into her, he lays his weight on her, crushing her like she always dreamt. Her hands in his against the bed, her legs hooked around his waist, his face in her neck.

She practically squirmed with excitement underneath, making him chuckle into her skin, his beginning strokes making her twist even more.

“My god, you feel so good!” She moans, closing her eyes and squeezing his hands. His open-mouthed kisses against the spot on her neck making the mess between her legs, even slipperier.

“So wet for me,” he moans, making her throb and flutter around him. The constant wet slaps echo off the walls.

“You're so f-fucking sexy,” she moans back, turning her head to capture his lips, melting on him even more.

One of his hands releases hers to find her neck, loving the way her breathing hitches. He slips his tongue in her mouth.

Her free hand claws at his shoulder as he digs deeper, her soft cries hitting the inside of his mouth due to their heated liplock.

Coming up for air, their heavy breathing falls in line with the sounds of their sex, turning the heat up in the room.

Their eyes set on each other, her hips rutting against him to chase the feeling bubbling in her core.

Those sweet cries of pleasure falling from her lips makes him so much harder for her, as he pounds into her now.

“Fuck me… just like that!” Her hand finds the one around her neck, gasping as he lightly squeezes tighter, almost cumming right then and there.

“You gon cum on this dick, baby?” He rasps, loving the way her eyes fluttered at his words.

“Only if you cum in this pussy,” she moans back, earning a heavy grunt in response, pressing his body flush against hers, a swivel added to the mix.

“Oh my— please don't stop,” she grabs at his back and shoulders with both hands, while his are pressed into the mattress.

“I got you, baby. Get that shit,” he speaks against her lips, making her pout as the pleasure burns brighter in her.

“So close,” she whimpers, tucking her face into his neck as the feeling begins to wrack through her. Feeling him twitch made matters worse.

“Cum with me,” he groans, letting go as soon as she unraveled, his heavy grunts almost overpowering her wild mewls as his hips stutter into her.

Her body is far too blissed out as it lightly twitches, even as he pulls away, trailing kisses from her neck to her chest, her soft giggle sounds at his soft nibbles on the area.

“Let's do that again.”

@starcrossedxwriter @consent-is-king @blackerthings @harmshake @soufcakmistress @thegifstories @ghostfacekill-monger @blowmymbackout @abeautifulmindexposed

#miyuhpapayuh #blackwriters #poc writers #smut #marshawn lynch #marshawn lynch smut

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hwanchaesong · 2 months

Note

Can I request an Ateez Yeosang x reader where it's her first time everything? First time orgasm, first time squirt, first time having sex and she bleeds and freaks so he helps her and calms her through it? Very smutty and extremely fluffy?

a/n: ooh, this req surprised me ngl 😭 but this is an amazing idea! i hope you'll like this tho, i rlly tried my best to make it lovey dovey but still smutty 🙈

ps. this has been on my drafts for too long so here we go. and i'm so sorry because this is SO SO SO LATE

warning!!! smut under the cut so mdni!

It was the heat of the moment, the intense make-out session with your boyfriend really took a toll on you until you blurted out the words that would make you blush.

"Let's do it." you murmured against the lips of the man that you call your beloved.

Said man was named Yeosang, processing what you just said that made him cease all of his movements.

Both of you are in a compromising position. His hands are inside your shirt, feeling your burning skin while you sit on his lap, basically grinding against him.

"Are you sure?" he asks, sincerely gazing into your eyes to ensure that you're not saying it out of pressure.

You gently smiled at his considerate attitude, leaning in to peck his lips and smiling at him softly, "I'm sure."

There were a few moments of silence, still contemplating whether he should continue, not until you slightly moved on top of him, effectively rubbing your aching core against his hard on.

"Alright, alright," he chuckled, shuffling around until he was able to lay you down on the mattress, "my baby is so impatient."

"I can't help it," you whined, gripping his shirt in an attempt to pull it off him, "I just.. want you so bad."

His eyes darkened, "Keep saying that, baby." he removed his shirt, revealing his toned body that made you drool before he leaned down, lips hovering above yours, "I might not be able to contain myself."

"Then don't."

He breathed through his teeth before aggressively kissing you once more, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and making sure to lick every crevice. A small yelp coming from you when you felt his hand grope your left breast, his thumb pushing on your nipple through your bra.

He went and sucked on your tongue, your face getting hot at the sensation while you let out a small moan.

He detaches his lips from you after a while, a string of saliva between you, a sign of the passionate make-out that took place.

"Let's remove this, yeah?" he smiled at you, taking your clothes off one by one until you're butt naked under him.

He told you he won't be able to behave, but look at him, treating you like glass. Like a goddess, and you love every moment of it.

"God, you're so beautiful." he complimented you, caressing your hips, lovingly staring at you while his hand crept up, feathery touches until he reached your face. "So perfect." he whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear.

"Stop it!" you whined, your hands flying to cover your face, being shy at the attention you're getting from it.

"What?" he snickers, gently removing your hands and leaving a lingering peck on your cupid's bow before sliding his lips down your neck, his murmurs tickling your skin, "Just saying the truth."

"Oh-!" you were pleasantly surprised when he began kissing your neck, leaving some love marks here and there as his palm covered your chest, tugging on your nipples.

"Oh god, Yeosang." you moaned, now feeling his mouth on your mound, sucking on it and lightly biting.

Soon, his other free hand snaked into your stomach and down to your navel, squeezing your inner thighs before experimentally dipping a finger into your heat.

He released your nipple with a 'pop' sound, "Mmh, so wet for me already, baby?" he rhetorically asked, but you still nodded, eyes tightly shut as you're too focused on the newly found bliss.

His fingers easily find your clit, rubbing it in numbers and shapes that made your legs twitch, "Feels too good." you said, holding on to the sheets when you felt something.

Your breathing got heavy, focusing more on the jolting pleasure on your core, not until he stopped.

"Why?!" you cried out, opening your eyes and throwing your boyfriend a glare, frustrated that you couldn't reach your high.

Yeosang made a show of licking his fingers clean, "Sorry," he says, but without any remorse in his tone, "I kind of want you to cum on my tongue because look," he showed you his glistening digits, "you taste so good."

You whimpered, not knowing what to do with his dirty talks.

"Told you not to be impatient." he clicks his tongue, positioning himself in between your legs and taking a whiff of your scent. "Fuck, you smell so good too."

Then he dives him, earning him a gasp and a pull on his hair, courtesy of you because his wet muscle on your pussy makes you feel a lot of things. Heavenly things.

He laps at your juices, sucks on your clit and you twitch when you felt a wiggling finger inside you.

"More." you moaned, making him add another finger as he curled his digits around, finding your spongy spot that had you rolling your eyes.

"Oh god! Yes! I-I'm-" you wailed, getting the clue that you're close, Yeosang made more effort. He sucked harder on your clit, his fingers getting into a hellish pace until finally, you let the pressure on your lower belly go, but it felt.. wet. Too wet even.

"Holy crap." Yeosang smirked, your juices flowing down his chin and hands, "Did I just made you squirt?"

What? Squirt?

"I'm sor-" you began apologizing but he shut you up with a kiss, guiding your legs around his waist and putting your arms on his shoulders.

"Don't say sorry baby, it was hot." he smirked, then you felt his tip prodding at your entrance, "Are you really sure about this?"

You gazed into his bright, brown orbs. Full of worry and love, and at that moment, all you wanted to do is give yourself to him.

"Yes, I'm all yours."

"Alright then," he pushed only the tip but it was enough to stretch you out a bit, "I'll go slow. Tell me if you want to stop."

You nodded, inhaling and exhaling to prepare yourself. You know it will hurt. Based on what you read, heard, and see. But you trust the man on top of you, you know that he'll take care of you.

Yeosang started pushing in, inch by inch, tenderly massaging your hips as a way to give relief during the uncomfortable stretch.

"Ah!" you cried out, feeling your hymen break at the intrusion.

It was too painful, which was likely since it's your first time.

Then, something trickled.

Red.

"Shit!" he cursed, "You're bleeding, baby, fuck. I'm so sorry."

He panicked, which made you panic as well.

He hastily pulled out of you, standing up from the bed and getting some wipes to clean up the blood.

Damn it, he only sees this in movies. So, it really does happen in real life. What a fucking revelation for the both of you.

"Does it hurt?" he asked after a while, kissing your forehead and staring apologetically into your eyes, making sure that you're not in any kind of discomfort.

You actually felt like tearing up, how did you even manage to bag a man like him.

He's there, painfully hard and possibly at the verge of being blue balled but he ignores all that, choosing to focus on your well being.

"Yeosang," you called for his name, cupping his cheeks and kissing him passionately, "I'm fine. Let's continue."

"Are you sure? What if-"

You placed a finger on his lips, rolling over so now you're on top of him, the biggest signs for him to shut up and proceed with what is supposed to happen tonight.

"It's okay." you reassured him once more, kissing him fully as you do so, "I don't want to do this with anyone but you." you whispered against his lips, lifting your hips and doing the work of filling you up with his girth.

You gasped at the intrusion, feeling the stretch once more but it wasn't as bad as before.

You don't know where you're getting the confidence, but to hell with it, anyone would feel bold if your significant other looks at you like the deities sculpted you themselves.

Eyes full of warmth, longing, and desire.

To hell with everything.

You started moving without giving it any second thoughts, you are tired of waiting and you know that the stinging pain would soon go away.

"Slow down baby, I-" Yeosang mumbled, gripping your hips as a way to control your movements.

You really don't mind the burning feeling in your thighs as you move up and down on his length, but boy did you want to ignite a fire within him.

"If you want me to slow down," you whispered, "then make me."

Well, that did the trick. Yeosang's eyes darkened and the grip he has on your hips is now bruising, "Didn't take you for a brat, really."

He scoffs and he definitely does take control of the situation, stilling you on his lap as he closes his eyes.

Ah, this is life, he thinks.

The way your drenching pussy clenches on his cock. So warm, so good. He could seriously bust a nut from the feeling of you alone, but that wouldn't be fun now, isn't it?

Your moans got louder when he started drilling into you. You can't move as he restrains you in his lap, making him do all the work, rutting his hips until your juices are rolling down your inner thighs and drips onto his own skin.

"Yeosang!" you whined his name, his unforgiving pace made you throw your head back, getting dizzy from the pleasure.

"Take it, baby." he says, his thrusts getting erratic as he chased his high while simultaneously waiting for you to finish first.

"Yeosang, I'm close." you panted, throwing your palms against his chest as an attempt to stabilize yourself.

"Cum all over me, princess." he says hotly, taking one of your hands and bringing it up to his mouth, sucking on your index and middle finger.

He really knows how to rile you up, and that was just enough for you to combust when you truly felt his tongue circling around your digits. Coming all over his length, your clenching heat allows him to finally cum as well, your insides milking him dry.

He went and grabbed your neck, bringing you in for a hot and messy kiss, panting against each other's mouth as you both came down from your high.

"That was so good." you smiled, clinging to him and wanting to go to sleep when the tiredness seeps into your muscles.

"Sleepy?" he asked you, to which you could only nod.

"Alright, let's clean up first so we're not sticky." he says, giving you a final kiss before preparing to stand up, "I love you."

You laughed, giddy and still feeling the dopamine in your veins, "I love you more."

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venusphoriia · 2 months

Text

— Maybe In Another Life

;; ₍ # ₎ ⁀➷ Clarisse La Rue x Reader

─ she honestly would’ve loved you.

cw ཿ⠀ not proof-read, major character death, description of coping with losing a loved one, angst no comfort, (written with a female reader in mind, but honest no pronouns are used (I think??))

ପ a/n ; literally a quick dump (it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a month) because I’ve been super busy. I’m still working on Lovesick Denial Part 2 and another request, so one of those may be released next. Thank you so much for the support and I hope you enjoy! (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃♡︎

Clarisse stares blankly at the gravestone. The flower gently twirls in her hands mindlessly. The sun felt warm against her skin, the wind—a perfect breeze. The weather was calm, mellow like the calm after a storm.

The sky was bright, much too bright for Clarisse’s liking. Especially now, but she knew this weather is something you enjoy. Everything looked so alive, free—perhaps even a bit happy. She felt so out of place. Nothing felt right, like something was missing. She knew, but she wanted to deny it a bit longer.

She sinks deeper into her thoughts—memories that she treasures. For a moment, she allows them to completely consume her senses, reliving them as if they were the present. She can hear your heartfelt laughter from afar, drawing closer as you approach her.

You quickly quiet your movements, sneaking up on Clarisse from behind. She closes her eyes, pretending not to hear you (like she always does). She feels you creep closer, you hand slowly reaching out towards hers. A soft chill runs up her spine as your fingertips brush against her skin.

She waits quietly for the sound of your voice, but it never comes. Clarisse brow furrows softly, she closes her eyes tighter in concentration. Your hands slip into hers, but they aren’t as soft as they used to be. Still, she imagines your smile as you slowly trail your hand up her arm, carefully tracing her scars as you alway did, until your hand rests along her neck.

Again, she listens carefully for your soft laughter, but again, she’s left waiting. She feels your hand cup her face and again the touch feels odd. It’s warm, but so foreign. Even the way you held her felt so…different. She tries to correct the mistakes in her mind, wanting to indulge deeper into her fantasy.

Again, she waits. Yearning to hear your voice, she waits as her eyes desperately remain closed.

“Clarisse?” Again, she is left disappointed. She breaks away from her daydream, her eyes slowly opening. Tears slip past her eyes as she meets a look full of pity and concern, “…You alright?”

The question is hesitant as if scared to provoke Clarisse’s anger. Clarisse looks away, down at his hand that carefully holds hers. The flower in her hand was tight in her grip as if she was afraid to let go.

“I’m fine,” her tone is rough as she wipes away her tears, pulling away from Chris’ touch.

Chris Rodriguez, son of Hermes. Someone she had grown close to since—no, she doesn’t want to think about it. She places the flower among the many others on the gravestone. A beautiful Daffodil among the many others. Clarisse smiles softly to herself as she sees the gifts others have left behind in your memory. She knew you would appreciate them all.

Your greatest fear was being forgotten—or worse being remembered as someone who never did much with their life. It brings Clarisse a little comforting knowing that your anxieties would’ve been put to rest if you had realized how much you are truly loved.

Clarisse wipes away her tears again, clearing her throat before standing back up. She walks past Chris, not being able to find the strength within herself to even spare him a glance. He doesn’t comment on it, following behind her, but also being mindful to keep his distance.

She looks down at her hand, the ring feels rather tight around her finger. A wave of anger, hurt, and disappointment hit her as she swallows the bitterness in her throat. She looks away. She pretends it’s your ring, your engagement—that she’s your fiance.

She truly would’ve married you. If only you’d been able to stick around, maybe you would have said yes.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #clarisse x you

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euphorajeon · 2 months

Text

wednesday night(s) | jjk

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff? | college au

— word count: 2.9k

— warnings: laundromat!jk (!!!), stalkerish behaviour (not jk or oc), dubious-consensual kissing (but they talk about it after), jk is a sweetheart and oc is just a blabbering mess

— summary: on a wednesday night seven weeks ago, you met someone in the laundry room. this wednesday night, you meet him again.

— author's note: i suck at summaries,, the story is better i promise (i hope,,, T_T) anyways. i had this in the draft like a few weeks after seven mv was released and then got stuck, revisited it months later then finished it like this. hah. i hope laundromat!jk with his grey hoodie and curly hair is enough to keep this enjoyable :]

masterlist

The dim lighting of the shared laundry room in your apartment building greets you as you step inside with your laundry basket in hand. It’s devoid of other people when you look around, the whirring of the washers and dryers the only sound competing with the silence of the night. You exhale a breath of relief, quickly making a beeline for the nearest empty washer to load your dirty clothes that’s piled up for a week.

Being a college student doesn’t give you many options for your living arrangement, only being able to settle on a one-bedroom apartment with a communal laundry room. In the first months of moving into the apartment, your schedule only allowed you to do your laundry on the weekends, which was apparently the same case for most patrons of the building. The laundry room was always full of people and you had to secure a washer by waiting for someone else to finish, wasting precious hours away from your supposedly free weekend. That, and your social battery was always drained from all the loud conversations among roommates and friends alike when they were also waiting for a washer to free up. You couldn’t stand having your energy gone even before Monday said hello, so you tried to clear your schedule to avoid doing laundry on the weekend.

Wednesday nights are scheduled for laundry now, after a day of two classes at campus and one shift at the coffee shop five bus stops away from where you live. Usually you’d be tired after the long day, but the laundry room is mostly quiet in the middle of the week, so you use the time to decompress while preparing yourself for your 10 am shift at the coffee shop Thursday morning. The burn in your arms after folding your shirts and pants for nearly twenty minutes helps you tune out your surroundings, which normally consists of the occasional one or two other patrons coming in and the whirr and beep of machines.

“You showed up late tonight.”

Ah, that’s something you forget to mention. Or rather, someone.

Your heart jumps in your chest, beats stuttering a bit faster not because you’re flustered in his presence, but because he just popped out of nowhere. Wasn’t the room empty when you scanned it upon your entry?

Maybe you were too busy trying to declutter your mind from the day’s events that you didn’t hear him loading his own laundry into the washer. Didn’t hear the beep when his washer started, didn’t hear him calling you upon noticing your presence, didn’t hear him walk closer, and certainly didn’t hear when he sat on top of the washer right next to the one you’re using. Or maybe you did hear something, but didn’t care enough to find out who it was.

“Did you go on a date?” He gestures to the black tanktop you have on underneath your denim jacket. Probably referring to your face too, which is still caked with make up because you haven’t had time to clean it off yet. You spare him a glance with a downturn of your lips, by now a standard response to whatever he says, really.

You met him for the first time around seven weeks ago, when he accidentally knocked you over with his gigantic laundry basket. He had apologized profusely with that big, round peepers of his and you had brushed him off with a polite smile, hoping he’d just drop it and leave you alone like any normal person would. He had been silent for the rest of his laundry cycle, but you could feel the way his eyes never left your figure for the remainder of the night.

A week after that, you found him using the exact same washer as last week and tried to avoid the one next to his, planning to load your laundry quietly and duck out of there before he had the chance to realize that you were in the vicinity. The plan was … partly successful as you managed to get out of the laundry room to wait out the washing cycle in your room, but not before he appeared beside you when you were putting in fabric softener into the washer. He had waited until your washer started running to once again voice out an apology for the laundry basket incident, something you told him to chill out about. He was just about to tell you his name when you mumbled out an excuse to flee, leaving him gaping in the middle of the laundry room. You did not want to know his name.

You found out anyway on your next Wednesday shift at the coffee shop, when you were munching on a chocolate muffin in the break room with one of your coworker, Mingyu. He had been showing you his Instagram account, scrolling through the photos when you recognized the Laundry Guy in one of them. “You know him?” Mingyu had inquired upon noticing your thumb had paused scrolling. A recount of what happened two weeks ago involving a certain doe-eyed boy and his enormous laundry basket was told, pulling out an amused laugh from your coworker. “His name is Jeongguk,” Mingyu kindly informed you (even though you didn’t ask.) “He’s in a few of my classes. Likes doing laundry. One time I went to his apartment to hang out and he did laundry in the middle of the night.”

Maybe you would’ve liked this Jeongguk guy if he kept doing his laundry in the middle of the night, out of your sight.

“Hey, Star, someone is looking for you.” The sound of Jeongguk’s voice pulls you back to the present.

Star. The nickname he started calling you by when he saw you loading your blanket—which is dark blue in color and has yellow stars all over it—into the washer one time. You’ve never really responded to it, but he sticks by the nickname like he’s been calling you that since you both were five. You let him have it then, seeing it as a win-win because it keeps him from knowing your name but still lets you know whenever he’s around and talking to you.

But beyond the nickname, the words after that caught your attention. Jeongguk’s nudge on your arm is barely noticeable, but the way his eyes are fixated on the doorway makes you follow his line of sight. There, just outside the laundry room, stood the person you want to see the least right now. Not after the shitty presentation you gave in class this morning (that in turn, got you scolded by your professor), not after you did terrible on your quiz on the second class, and not after you got an earful from your manager at the cafe for not handling a customer complaint professionally. Oh, and certainly, not in front of Jeongguk.

The person outside the laundry room yells your name. “Fancy meeting you here!” he continues, the cheery tone grating your ears. Fuck, how did he know where you live?

Hyun is—was—just a regular customer of the coffee shop you work at. You always see him on your shift, and in turn, have memorized his name and order because he always orders the exact same, simple thing: a medium caramel macchiato with two extra shots. Heck, it’s simple enough that even Mingyu has it drilled into his brain as well. There are multiple occasions where either you or Mingyu had already had Hyun’s order keyed in when he’s just approaching the cashier. Efficient work time, and all.

Unfortunately, this act of memorization is seen as flirting by the guy. He’s started smiling more at you, giving you cheeky winks, even sliding you his phone number on the napkin by the pick-up counter. You’ve tried to reject him politely, but Hyun is so dense that he interpreted your polite rejection as you playing hard to get and thus has been trying even harder to get you to date him. This makes you furious but Mingyu thinks it’s hilarious.

Wait. Mingyu…

He could be the one who told Hyun where you live. That motherfucker.

In the midst of your misery, you miss the way Jeongguk’s eyes light up at finally getting to know your name after seven weeks. Completely miss the way his eyes fill with mirth and his cherub cheeks lifting up in the beginning of a teasing smile, which dims as soon as he sees you bury your head in hands.

“Can we get out of here?” you grit through your teeth. You don’t even know when I turned to we, and with Jeongguk, of all people. You could’ve just bolted out of there, wait out your laundry cycle in your room like usual and pretend you don’t notice Jeongguk’s disappointed gaze that follows. Could’ve left him to deal with Hyun who’s inching closer towards you and have fun imagining him fumble trying to explain nonexistent shit to Hyun.

But that route could end up very badly if Hyun decided to abandon Jeongguk and follow you up to your room instead. It’s scary enough that he knows precisely what building you live in—you don’t need him knowing the exact room number. Hence, using Jeongguk as a shield at this moment feels like a safe choice.

“Heyyy,” Hyun’s voice reaches your ears again, prompting you to glance up, seeing him just a few steps away from you. In a desperate attempt, you grip the material of Jeongguk’s grey hoodie, whisper I’m so sorry before pulling him down to kiss him right on the mouth.

It’s awkward. You can feel how shocked Jeongguk is by the way his lips are still, frozen like a statue for the first few seconds of your kiss. Can’t blame him, though, after his numerous attempts of camaraderie were only responded with a cold shoulder by you. Heck, if you were in his position, you’d slap yourself across the face for pulling this crazy stunt. But Jeongguk is not you, so instead of that, he relaxes his lips before lightly gripping your jaw to angle your head better so he can kiss you properly.

And kiss properly you do, until all you can hear is only the smacking of your lips and the few soft sighs Jeongguk slips in between. He kisses you slowly, sucks on your bottom lip softly like it’s his favorite gummy candy and he wants to savor the taste. He must’ve had a lot of practice to be kissing someone this good.

“Really?” Hyun’s voice sounds far away in your head. “You think I would fall for that?”

When neither of you responds, still busy sucking each other’s lips, Hyun continues. “Please,” he says sarcastically. “Anyone could see that this is all fake.”

You feel Jeongguk pulling away from the kiss, his lips just a breath away from yours. You keep your eyes closed, your breath held, in fear that you’d melt into a puddle right then and there if you see Jeongguk’s face this close. When he speaks, the faint brush of his lips against yours makes you shiver.

“What makes you think this is fake?” he says. There’s a quirk on the corner of his lips when he kisses you again. “Never seen people kissing before? Or are you just trying to convince yourself that this is fake?”

Jeongguk’s hands move from your face to hold your waist, where he squeezes lightly before once again capturing your lips in his. You let out a muffled yelp when his hands slide lower to hoist you up onto a washing machine. The kissing resumes, more smacking sound is heard, and Hyun’s presence gets pushed to the back of your mind. All you can think about is Jeongguk’s lips, how warm and plush they are, and how they are pulling away from you again.

The tiny whine you let out gets lost in Jeongguk’s grunt, still addressing Hyun: “Scram, bro.” When that gets no response, he adds for good measure: “Shoo.”

You hear Hyun click his tongue in annoyance and the stomps he makes while walking away after, but find yourself unable to focus on either as Jeongguk goes back to sucking your bottom lip. The reason why you’re doing this definitely gets forgotten as you let yourself be carried away in Jeongguk’s kisses.

When someone tears open the door of the washing machine next to you loudly, you tear yourself apart from Jeongguk. He’s panting lightly, cheeks flushed and lips kiss-swollen. He’s also smiling at you, pointedly ignoring the dirty look thrown by the only other person in the laundry room other than you two. You grimace at the person, bowing slightly as a pathetic attempt at an apology.

Then you face Jeongguk again. Who’s still flushed. Whose lips still glisten red. Who’s still smiling at you, this time with mirth in his eyes. You fumble.

“Uh, about earlier—“

“Do you want to get off the washing machine first?”

Uh, what?

Right, you’re still sitting on top of the washing machine. Hoisted up by Jeongguk’s hands. On your thighs. Then kissing, licking, sucking—

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You clear your throat, bracing your hands on the machine but Jeongguk beats you to it by once again taking hold of your waist to help you step down. Unfortunately, that means your legs haven’t caught up with your brain yet so they buckle like a pair of useless jelly underneath you. Again, Jeongguk steadies you with his firm hold, still with upturned lips.

“Woah, there. You okay?” He giggles—giggles!—eyes scrunching up into crescents. His hands never leave your waist even after you’re standing solid on your own two feet.

“Yeah, um, thanks.” You try to look at anything but him. “Listen, Jeongguk. I—“

“Wait, how do you know my name?” Jeongguk tilts his head, the unruly strands atop his head making him look like a puppy. “I never told you, did I?”

“Oh, Mingyu told me—“

“You know Mingyu?”

You lift your hands to place them on his shoulders firmly. “Let me finish first?”

Jeongguk smiles sheepishly, but nods to let you continue.

“Okay, um. I’m really sorry about earlier … the drama with Hyun and the— kissing…. I just couldn’t think and didn’t know what else to do. I’m really, very sorry.” You let your head drop, the weight of kissing a stranger starting to get to you.

Jeongguk is quiet. You’re conjuring up another speech of apology with some backstory to help you justify yourself, just in case he decides that your first apology isn’t enough.

“It’s okay.” Huh? “I liked kissing you, anyway.”

You choke on air. “Wh—at?”

“I liked kissing you.” Jeongguk smiles again, that same mirth still in his eyes. “You know, Star, for someone so confident in pulling me down for a kiss, you sure are stuttering a lot right now.” His smile turns into a teasing one. “Did you like kissing me too?”

The person next to you slams the washing machine door closed. “Get a room, people,” she hisses before walking out of the laundry room.

“Nice advice.” Jeongguk gestures to the retreating girl. “Should we, Star?”

Your eyes are round in shock, mortified at Jeongguk’s suggestion. Though, you suppose it’s karma for kissing a stranger only for your convenience. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, type of shit.

When you’re still frozen after five seconds, Jeongguk lets out a laugh. “I’m kidding, kidding! Oh, God, you look so scared. Seriously, though, it’s totally okay. You have nothing to be worried about.”

Despite the huge sigh you heave, you’re still not convinced. “Are you sure? I completely understand if you’re mad, though.”

“I’m gonna be mad if you keep apologizing,” Jeongguk says. “Or, if you feel that bad about it … you could pay me back with a date.”

This time, his smile is hopeful. “A date, where you could tell me your real name, how you know Mingyu, and the story about whoever the hell that was that interrupted our kiss.” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow teasingly. “Then, we could end it the way we started today … with a kiss. If you want?”

“Oh, well, if it’s to pay you back for the kiss, sure…” you trail off, feeling weird about how the situation has come to. “Damn, when you ask for my consent like that it makes me feel worse for not doing the same to kiss you earlier.” You physically face-palm.

“Since you feel so bad about that, do you want to ask for my consent now?” Jeongguk looks at you with his big, round eyes, appearing innocent like a child. You wonder if this is the same boy you just kissed some minutes ago.

“How, like, ‘Hey, Jeongguk, someone I don’t like just walked in, can I kiss you?’” you say, half giggling.

“Sounds like a mouthful, maybe just the last four words?” Jeongguk licks his lips.

You tilt your head in amazement, your lips curving up into a small smile. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes you can, Star,” comes Jeongguk’s reply, his hands going back to your jaw. He gives you a wink before dipping down.

“Yes, you can,” he whispers before kissing you once again.

Maybe now you’ll look forward to your weekly laundry schedule—after a day of two classes at campus and one shift at the coffee shop five bus stops away from where you live—on Wednesday nights.

Because on Wednesday nights, a certain boy with big, doe eyes and unruly hair does his laundry with his huge laundry basket and calls you Star. This Wednesday night, he kissed you—uh, you kissed him.

Next Wednesday night … you’d just have to wait and see.

a/n: thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed this drabble while we wait for bangtan to come back :')) also you can give me feedback here! :D

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