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hanasnx · 7 months

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"not alone anymore."

You raked a hand through your hair, the cold night air fogging your breath as you stepped out the sliding glass door. Escaping the full swing of the party inside, you took refuge out on the balcony, and with trembling hands you struggled to take out a cigarette and a lighter. It was freezing out here compared to the stuffy inside, where the hot bodies dancing acted as a space heater. The dampness of your lips caught the cig, allowing you to check your watch for the time, wondering when you should be heading out. Staring at it for longer than a second told you that it had stopped at one AM. “Shit,” you muttered through your lips dangling the cigarette. How long had it been then? Tapping it out of anger didn’t work either, the face of the clock staring blankly at you. Instead, you tried to light your cig, cupping your hand around it. The lighter sparked, but didn’t catch, no matter how many times you rolled it. “C’mon, really?” A couple more times offered no solution, and you were about to toss and stamp the tobacco in your frustration.

“Need a light?” A voice coming from the side startled you, jumping in surprise, and turning to the source. It was dark out, but you could see. The source was tall, and you watched him rifle his pockets.

“Please,” you replied, inviting him over. Gingerly, he stepped to you, and cupped his hand to protect the fire from the wind, offering it to you. You brushed your hair back and leaned in, letting him light the end for you. Gently, you breathed in, and pinched the cig between your fingers so you could blow the smoke away from him. He pocketed the lighter.

“Sorry to scare you, thought you saw me.” he told you, but by this point you’d already forgotten.

“Hm? Oh,” You wrapped an arm under your chest to protect your middle from the air and to prop up your elbow, sipping your cig leisurely. The smoke warmed your lungs. “no sweat. Don’t sweat it,” you mumbled, kicking the ground underneath you to hear your shoe scrape against the concrete. You sniffed, and glanced at him. “Thanks for the light.” He noticed your small smile, and leaned back against the wall.

“No problem. It seemed like you were having a hard time,” Apparently he’d seen you curse at your watch and your lighter.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “I think I’m just ready to go home.”

“What’s keeping you?”

“Nothing, I guess,” You shrugged, rubbing your temple with the hand that held your cig. “Feel like if I go home, I’ll wonder why I didn’t stay. I’ve got that fear of missing out, you know?” You glanced at him after you asked the question, and you caught him looking at you already. You idled, having calmed down from the nicotine rush, you registered who you were speaking with. It hit you how cute this guy was. Dark hair, styled up in disheveled locks. Handsome face, with soft lips and crystal blue eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn he glanced at your mouth.

“I get that,” he said softly, and you inhaled sharply at the sound of his lowered voice.

You adjusted, mimicking him to rest against the wall, and flicking off the ash from your cig. “What about you? Why are you hiding out here?”

“Not really my scene. I’m just a wingman.” He peered over his shoulder to spy his friend cozying up with the woman he’d been talking to. “Looks like I’m a retired wingman.” He returned his gaze to you, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“‘A wingman’?” you parroted in disbelief, and you looked him up and down. “You?” His lips curled at the question, recognizing it for what it was. A subtle flirt. He gave you a sly look, and to change the subject you offered him the butt end of the cig, “Care for a draw?” He accepted it, your cold hands brushing past one another, and you watched the sharp angle of his jawline as he took a drag.

“Yeah, believe it or not,” he spoke through the smoke, some curling out from his nose. “I’ll be heading out soon.” You were still occupied by the butterflies that erupted in your stomach from the brief contact.

“Shame,” you muttered without realizing, and while he took his second puff he eyed you curiously with a tilt of his head.

“‘Shame’?”

You rolled with it, since it was too late to back track. “Shame,” You shook your head, listening to the bump of the bass inside shake the apartment. “I was just about to ask you if you wanted to come back in with me for a dance.”

“Dance, huh?” he said with interest, handing off the roach. The temperature of your skin giving him an idea. “I’m not a big dancer.”

“I bet you’re great, c’mon,” You found yourself wanting him to stay. “Just one, I’ll be really nice even if you make a fool of yourself,” you assured, coaxing him.

He merely shook his head, “Maybe next time,” It was an empty promise. “Nah, I wanna grab a cup of coffee. You should come with.”

“I’m just saying, I find it hard to believe that out of every animal on the planet you’d wanna be a… porcupine.”

He eyed you over the rim of his mug, brows furrowed. He hissed when he placed it down. “And I’m just saying, that in a world full of predators, I’m gonna be the guy with the impaling armor.”

You shimmied in your seat, sizing him up. “You wouldn’t wanna be a predator?” you teased. “Most guys I ask usually go for one of the big cats, gator, rhino, or gorilla—“

“—Those are the most popular options—?”

“— From the guys I’ve asked, yes!” A smile tugged at his lips from the conversation, and you continued. “It’s science, really.”

“Science?”

“Science. I’m telling you. There’s a psychology to it.”

“Explain,” He took another sip of his coffee. The diner you two occupied was cool toned, greens and silvers and blues. Empty, except for a gray bearded man in the corner, and the two of you sitting on the bar stools, facing each other.

“The guys who say they’d be gator, those are the rednecks,” You began, and with fake interest, your companion perked up in his seat, flashing you a wide eyed expression.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” you told him playfully, reaching over to nudge his shoulder. He rested his cheek on his fist, and gestured for you to go on. “So those are gonna be the guys with the camo, they’re from Florida primarily, probably carry without a license.” You listed on your fingers, crossing your legs. “Gorilla guys are the big, buff for no reason— like The Rock-level buff— maybe less. From my research,” He raised his brows at you in feigned intrigue, knowing this was based on nothing but your own observations. “they’re more of the hit-first-ask-questions-later type. Rhinos too, however I think Rhinos are the more husky of the two. Other than that, those have been pretty interchangeable. Now, the cats, that’s where it gets interesting.” He checked his watch and glanced up at you, and you rolled your eyes at his bad joke. “I’m almost done. Lions are the vain type, usually long hair, real pretty boys, probably have a tattoo of one or want a tattoo of one.” Your eyes searched the ceiling, feeling hot under his gaze for talking this long. “Tigers are the serene type, zen, yoga, I’ve-trained-with-a-bo-staff and studied-abroad. Jaguars, usually black jaguars, are the goths. The piercings, the tats, the rockstar hair, skinny jeans, and tight v-necks.” You met his eyes.

“Done?”

“Mm-hmm,” You sipped your coffee, and added some cream before tasting it again.

“So what about porcupine guys? What do you think of them?” he asked, downing the last of his drink. You saw how his downturned lips attempted to hide his smile, betraying his eagerness to hear your opinion of him.

“Pretty cool, I guess.” You pushed out your lips, letting your gaze travel generously this time. “Tall, lanky—“ You noted the shift in his expression, and you revised, “—toned,” You narrowed your eyes, gauging his reaction. When it was satisfactory, you moved on, “Nice hair, pretty eyes. Very cool leather jacket.”

“What about personality?” he interjected, leaning back in his chair, and you were unable to ignore how he spread his knees.

“Calm,” Was your first thought, and he quieted. “charming, endearing.” Your gazes met, locking eyes as you finished. “Hopelessly alluring.”

As if to taunt you ever further, your companion inclined into your direction— and marginally you leaned in— but his purpose was to shed his leather jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Only encouraging his suspicions of your helpless attraction, you stare unapologetically, mesmerized by his elegant movement, and how close the two of you were. His dirty trick had done its dirty deed, and he folded the jacket within itself, tossing it onto the bar behind him so he could face you in his black turtleneck. One that highlighted his figure that had you wondering if he modeled clothing wear by the way he sported it like it was made for him. You moistened your lips and he glanced down at them, drawn to you like a moth to flame.

His voice was soft, feather-light and carressed your ears like a saint’s prayer. “So what animal did you choose?”

Having been lost in such a small and seemingly insignificant disrobing, you were stupefied. You shook your head as if to clear your brain fog, responding dreamily, “What?”

Since you required reengaging, he crossed his arms and fixed his elbow at the edge of the bar so he could insert himself further into the conversation. Demanding your attention, and begging you to check out how thick his arms looked in his sleeves. “You ask all these guys their philosophical animals so what did you say when they asked you?”

You flashed a confuddled furrow of your brow. Downturning your lips as you searched the corners of your mind for an answer even when it was doomed to chart a naughty course. “Um…” a single nervous chuckle emitted, “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked, actually.” All of a sudden, you were painfully aware of the kind of men you’ve been wasting your time with.

Perhaps the self-proclaimed “predators” had a bad streak of being conceited.

Somehow, he understood your entire thought process, watching your expressions shift. This was noted, but not commented on. “So?” he awaited your answer.

It took you a second to decide. He had spat his so easy, ready with an explanation as soon as you’d thought up the question. Did he choose a creature based on his preference toward it, or was it just the intelligent answer?

Did it really matter? It shouldn’t, yet here you were, worrying yourself over what this stranger would think of you. Pick you apart like you so carelessly did to the others in front of him. “I’ve always liked white foxes.” Insecure in your decision and how it shone through in your voice, implied an invitation for him to scrutinize you. You expected it.

A very slight shift in his expression, how he tilted his head, and his oceanic blue eyes traveling you from head to toe— was unhelpful in easing your nerves. “A white fox,” he hummed, interested, playful. “The storybook archetype of a clever and intelligent creature.” You swallowed. “The symbol of trickery, or luck, depending on your culture.” He bowed his head forward to catch your eye, looking at you through his brows, “Cunning, silver-tongued, and beautiful. However,” The start of his new sentence implied something promising, adjusting in his seat to tap his finger onto the bar. “a white fox suggests you hide something.”

It refreshed you to hear his thoughts about you. Eloquently stated, without sparing too many details. You hadn’t connected any dots without his assistance, but you were more alike to a white fox than you anticipated. Your famed animal inquiry allowed you a small and idiotic window into how people thought of themselves. Not only had he played your game, but he turned it around on you.

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked, unable to tear your eyes away from each other.

“I like a good mystery.”

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princessbrunette · 3 months

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a thing i think 90% of the time: little princess reader that’s like a little angel because she’s never had a bf before and getting with jj so everything is her first with him, like first kiss and all, she’s never done anything so she’s like :(((((((

(idk if this is a good idea but yeah i obsess over everything you write so!! <3)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

your voice trembles, infact — everything trembles with adrenaline as you lay on your back amongst your decorative pillows and frilly sheets, your boyfriend beside you with his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. they’re still in there, just getting you used to the feeling as he thumbs at your clit.

“i— i don’t know how it’s meant to feel?” you stress shakily, legs wide open, wet folds clicking audibly beneath his gentle movements.

“well does it feel good?” he cooes in that low, quiet voice, handsome face illuminated by the warm toned glow of the lamp in your bedroom.

“yeah, it’s— my tummies all tight.” you mewl, screwing your eyes shut making him break out into a wolffish grin.

“oh yeah? well then i must be doin’ somethin’ right, duchess.” you hear the smile in his voice despite having closed eyes and it eases you a little, letting him start to move his fingers inside you. you let out a whimper that the blonde could only describe as pornographic, and his eyes flicker between your face and your cunt, tonguing at his lower lip.

“oh my goodness.” you sigh, melting into the bed despite your body still being all tense with the trembles.

“aw, you’re shaking so much. you nervous, babydoll? you know i got’chu.” he rubs at your shaking thigh with his free hand, chuckling at how reactive you were.

“just never done this before.” you slur distractedly, brows furrowed with pleasure as you focus on the feeling building in your stomach.

“yeah, well. plenty more where this is comin’ from baby. keep pushin’ through, gonna make you cum now, ‘kay?”

“make me what?”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

#anon #jj maybank prompt #full credits to indy for the duchess nickname he used it in a jj fic and my brain turned off

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ddejavvu · 4 months

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anakin kissing gum outta your mouth

oh indy i'm so glad you talk to me about gross!anakin cause he's my fav <3

yeah he does kiss gum out of your mouth. the first time he does it you are appalled. he grabs your jaw and leans in and you tuck it into the side of your cheek so that you can kiss him semi-properly but he jams his tongue rather unceremoniously into your mouth to fish it out. It's gross and spitty and drooly and wet, it's probably the sloppiest kiss you've ever gotten, but when he curls his tongue over it and sucks it into his own mouth you feel a fucking shiver up your spine. I'm talking one that tightens up your shoulders. Electric.

let me tell you he is delighted by how indignant/horrified you are. the more you huff and puff about how that was disgusting, how that was your gum with your spit on it, the wider his grin grows, wolfish and satisfied. it's an open-mouthed grin that perfectly showcases the gum he's still chewing on, and he grabs you around the waist when you try getting up to get another stick.

He'll take turns with you, but only because he gets to pinch your cheeks all hollowed and then spit the gum into your mouth. he gets a real nice view of your mouth open and ready for him, and depending on where he's put his massive hands, he can feel your pulse racing every time he manhandles your face. he might give you an extra glob of spit along with the gum but he wants you to let it pool around your mouth while you chew on the gum and mix it with your own spit, not waste it by swallowing it all

#indy <3 #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker smut

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old-lorarri · 6 months

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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 ─ 𝐏𝐎𝟓 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ pato fights for his life under his girlfriends lastest Instagram post and letting the people know that she is taken ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ pato o'ward x fem! pakistani! gf! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ wooow my first ever pato fic super excited kinda short but I hope you guys like it enjoy! ❩

❨ taglist | masterlist ❩

yourinstagram

liked by patriciooward landonorris 42,783,787 others

yourinstagram took my latino baby to a war zone...that's right and Pakistani wedding but don't worry all the aunties loved him 😊

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user desi girls 🔛🔝

user how did pato bag this baddie 😍 ⤷ patriciooward bought her a mclaren

user this is so cute i will cry

user 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

user ma’am 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️

user two years is long enough y/n you can come back home now 😍 ⤷ patriciooward no 😍

user one chance miss Y/N

user Y/N would look better with me ❤️ ⤷ patriciooward no ❤️

user HOOOOOLYYYYYYYY

user thee prettiest girl, the only girl even. ⤷ patriciooward my only girl*

user this is my religion, amen. 🙏🏻

user they’re so goals 😩🤌🏻 ⤷ patriciooward and don't you forget it

user i folded like a pretzel

user wow.

user not looking respectfully 😮‍💨 patriciooward then stop looking

user GAGGED THE GWORLS

user pato probably wants to die

user ain’t noooooo way pato bagged this desi baddie I can't belive it ⤷ patriciooward well, you better start believing bitch

user SLAYED THE HOUSE DOWN

user can pato fight? ⤷ patriciooward yes pull up

user i’m.

user not my wife posting her man like ⤷ patriciooward who is you?

user MOTHER ?????

user GIVE US Y/N BACK PATO 🔫 ⤷ patriciooward no 😃

user Pato fighting off everyone in the comments is so funny to me 😭😭😭 liked by yourinstagram ⤷ user SEE EVEN Y/N FINS THIS FUNY LMFAOOOO 😭😭

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─ requested by . . .

anon ─ Can you do an Instagram au for pato of him being possessive

anon ─ something with a pakistani reader plz !! <33 (as a fellow pakistani)

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xstarkillerx · 1 month

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Hop hop 🐇

Can't stop thinking of touch-me-not Jason Todd who likes to fuck you with your legs hanging off the bed, feet barely touching the floor and a blanket over your head and torso so all you are is a walking pair of holes with legs, anything else is too intimate. He likes that you can't even try to get your hands on him in this position, likes that if he tires you out enough, you eventually muffle your high pitch fucking noises into the mattress. Between the layers of fabric over your head and the layers of foam dampening your voice, he can almost pretend he doesn't need another person to give him what he needs, like the great Red Hood can get by in life without a warm body to touch, without some pretty girls moans telling him he can do good and pleasurable things with his body, with his hands, like he can live off silicone and his own rough fingers alone, even though he can't. This is the closest he will let himself get.

🐇 Hop hop

#donnie does 👑#jason todd smut #jason todd #red hood #red hood smut #red hood fic #jason todd fic #wrote this for indy it was gonna ge an ask but got too long #which is what usually happens

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wongyuseokie · 3 months

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Sweetest Kiss | x.m.h

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you and your boyfriend are determined to make it the best one ever, and a little edible lingerie never hurt anyone in the process. ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 1632 words

Pairings: Xu Minghao x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Established Relationship. Boyfriend! Minghao. FLUFFY FLUFF, and smut, plot with smut. Content Warnings: Mentions of food, smut, tooth-rotting fluff. Smut Warnings: Food Play (it's mild, she wears edible lingerie), kissing, breast play, unprotected sex (even if it's Valentine's Day, don't behave like this). Vanilla sex. Oral sex (f receiving), squirting, use of the pet name baby. Overstimulation, fingering. Authors Note: This is written for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub. Happy Valentine's my lovely @sluttyminghao / @myungho I hope you enjoy this! It's been a pleasure being your Valentine 💘 Authors Note 2: Thank you to my lovely @wooahaeproductions for beta'ing this for me so quickly! I love you sm 💘💘 Permanent Taglist: @aaniag Cross Posted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved.

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Minghao holding a tray filled with a delicious breakfast. Heart-shaped pancakes, fresh strawberries, and a steaming cup of your favourite coffee were on the tray.

“For my favourite person,” he said, placing the tray on your lap.

You looked at him, feeling a rush of warmth in your heart. “Minghao, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“But I wanted to,” he replied, sitting beside you on the bed. “It’s Valentine’s Day, and I wanted to start your day with a little extra love.”

You couldn’t help but be touched by his sweet gesture as you enjoyed the delicious breakfast he had prepared.

The air was filled with a hint of excitement as you planned a surprise for Minghao. With a mischievous smile, you turned to him and said. “Hey Hao, could you momentarily wait for me in the living room? I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

Minghao raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “A surprise? What is it?”

You chuckled, resisting the urge to spill the secret. “Patience, my love. Just wait in the living room, and I’ll be there in a minute.”

He nodded, a playful grin on his face. “Alright, but you better not keep me waiting too long.”

Minghao kissed your forehead and slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and you took the opportunity to make your way to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom.

You took a deep breath and disrobed yourself, revealing a lingerie set made entirely from candy. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness all at once. Today is a special day, and you want everything to be perfect.

You glanced down at the outfit you carefully chose for this occasion. You stepped closer to the mirror, ensuring every strand of your hair was in place.

With a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your phone and left your bedroom. You go to the living room, where your boyfriend awaits you. You can hear music from the living room and know he is listening to your favourite playlist.

With the surprise set, you went to the living room, your heart fluttering with anticipation. As you entered, Minghao looked up from the couch, his eyes widening with curiosity.

Minghao’s eyes grew even bigger as he saw you enter the living room, wearing only edible lingerie made from candy. You could see the desire in his eyes as he took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious, but Minghao’s admiring gaze made you feel confident.

“Valentine’s chocolate is so overpriced, I got us edible lingerie instead,” you said with a mischievous smile, walking towards him slowly.

Minghao couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you got closer. He ran his hands over your body, feeling the smooth texture of the candy lingerie against your skin. He couldn’t resist the temptation and leaned in to taste a piece of the candy on your shoulder. The sweet taste of the candy mixed with your skin was a sensation he couldn’t get enough of.

You let out a soft moan as Minghao’s lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you. The candy lingerie made it even more exciting as he nibbled on the pieces, leaving marks on your skin.

You could feel yourself getting more and more turned on as Minghao’s hands travelled down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands continued to roam over your body.

The candy lingerie melted against your skin, sticking to your body. But you didn’t care. The sensation of Minghao’s hands and lips on your skin was too intoxicating. You could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing moment.

Minghao’s hands made their way down to your thighs, pulling you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently. He continued to kiss and nibble on your skin, making you moan in pleasure.

Minghao hovered above you and captured your lips in a sweet kiss and then slowly moved them down your body as he placed his plush lips on your breast; as he reached your breasts, he took a piece of the candy lingerie in his mouth, sucking on it gently. His warm mouth and the sweet taste of the candy drove you wild. As you arched your back, pressing your body closer to his, he sucked and nibbled at your hardened nipples while his other hand massaged your other breast.

Minghao then pushed your thighs apart and laid down between them, his lips kissing your inner thighs until his mouth finally landed on your cunt. Minghao groaned softly when he tasted you. He moaned at how wet you were. Minghao threw your legs over his shoulders and secured his plump lips to your clit.

“Oh my god,” you gasped at the pleasure. He was incredible, but everything felt so unbelievable. You failed to hold your moans as he sucked on your clit. His hands moved to interlock at your waist as he kept sucking your clit.

You felt your eyes roll back as your orgasm approached you, “Hao,” you gasped, and Minghao could tell you were close, and he simply continued to suck your clit until you started to shake in his grip. Minghao’s mouth never left your clit as you came.

You whimpered as his touch pushed you to the brink of overstimulation, but you didn’t care. It felt too good. Minghao slowly moved his mouth away from your clit, smiling when he saw how swollen and wet your cunt was. He could see it throbbing and pulsating with aftershocks of pleasure.

“Hao, fuck,” you whispered as he pushed two fingers into you. Minghao stood up slightly as he pushed his middle and ring finger into your cunt and hooked them there.

“Scream for me,” Minghao said as he started to vigorously pump his fingers in and out of your cunt. He used his other hand to press down your pubic bone, holding you still as you began to thrash about.

“Do you hear how wet you are?” Minghao asked as he kept fingering you. You nodded, whimpering, fisting the sheets between your hands and letting out a scream as you came hard.

“Hao, I can’t,” You whimpered when you noticed that he hadn’t stopped his movements, “yes, you can. I know you can,” Minghao said as he repeated his actions, this time making you squirt all over his hands.

“I love it when you squirt, baby,” Minghao praised, making your eyes widen.

“Hao, I,” you babbled, and Minghao smiled as he pulled you into his arms.

“Please fuck me,” you begged, and Minghao smiled at you as he got onto his knees and positioned himself between you.

“Fucking hell, you’re so big,” you mewled as you took in his impressive length. Minghao leaned forward to kiss your forehead; he then spread your legs and wrapped them around his waist, and then ran his cock against your folds, choosing to run it over your clit several times.

Minghao took a deep breath as he placed the head of his cock at your entrance.

“Are you ready, baby?” Minghao asked.

“Yes,” you breathed out, and Minghao slowly pushed his length inside you, making you whimper as he stretched you out.

Minghao inched himself inside you until he was fully sheathed inside your tight cunt.

“Fuck Y/N, baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking good,” Minghao praised.

Minghao started to thrust into you with just the right amount of pressure and force. He trailed his fingers to your clit and rubbed. Your legs shook as your second orgasm washed over you, this time more intense. Minghao came seconds after as your cunt clenched around him.

He gently pulled out of you, leaned down and gently placed his lips at your entrance, lapping at your combined arousal, licking you clean, making you cum for the third time. Minghao moved up your body, kissed you softly and laid down next to you.

As you both lay there, catching your breath, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this unique and unforgettable Valentine’s Day. The edible lingerie may have been a fun and playful idea, but the love and passion between you and Minghao made it truly special. You couldn’t wait to see what other surprises he had for you.

“Hao, today was perfect,” you whispered, looking up at him.

He smiled, his eyes filled with love. “You deserve nothing but the best, my love.”

As the evening settled in, you and Minghao found yourselves cosied up on the couch, surrounded by the soft glow of fairy lights. The room was filled with a warm ambience, creating the perfect atmosphere for a heartfelt moment.

Minghao looked at you, his eyes filled with playfulness and sincerity. With a gentle smile, he took a deep breath, his cheeks tinged with a subtle blush.

“This might sound cheesy,” he began, his gaze never leaving yours, “but will you be my Valentine?”

A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the adorable expression on his face. Minghao’s earnestness melted your heart, and you felt warmth wash over you.

“Of course,” you replied, your voice filled with affection. “I’d love to be your Valentine.”

Minghao’s face lit up joyfully, and he kissed your forehead sweetly. As you snuggled closer, you couldn’t help but savour the moment’s sweetness, appreciating the simplicity and genuine connection that made your relationship with Minghao special.

#seventeen fic #seventeen smut #minghao smut #svthub #kvanity #indi writes: minghao #sweetest kiss: x.m.h

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thatsdemko · 9 months

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the ways in which pato shows you he loves you - p. o’ward

pairing: pato o’ward x reader

warnings: fluff

- making friends with your family

when you pull into your parents driveway you don’t expect to see pato’s car already there. you didn’t know they had invited him over for dinner, but you’re not surprised they did. they love him.

“hey, welcome home from work!” pato cheers from where he’s standing in the kitchen. he’s helping your mother cut vegetables, and your siblings are seated around the kitchen island. they loved when pato visited.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here?”

your mother gives you a pointed look, “he was always invited. it was you we weren’t sure if we had room for at the table.”

- running his fingers through your hair

you’re curled up beside him on the couch, head rested against his chest your eyes are beginning to fall heavy. his arm wrapped around you, he pulls you closer to him before moving his hand up into your hair. his fingers gently rake through your locks while gently pressing kisses to your head.

- asking for permission to touch your hair

he knows how long it took for the hairdresser to do your braids. you spent over three hours in the chair last week, and he knows how disrespectful it is if he just started playing with the little curls at the end of the braids, or the baby hairs that were fraying from the hair gel.

“do you mind if I play with the ends of your hair?”

you look up into his eyes and give him a slight nod, heart swelling with his consideration to ask, “of course, pato.”

- remembering your favorite food/drink

you had a busy week at work, one that left you busy from morning until late evenings. you didn’t make it home until around almost nine o’clock every night and you barely were eating full meals. small bowls of cereal and whatever snacks you could find were becoming your meals and pato was not letting that slide.

“hermosa,” he says clearing his throat, but you’re too busy you don’t even pick your head up from your computer to notice he’s there. it’s not until the smell of tacos and enchiladas enter your nostrils do you decide to look up.

“you could use some food.” he sets the arrow mclaren lunchbox down on your desk along with a cup full of your favorite Starbucks drink, “do you want to have lunch with me?” he asks.

“Pato,” you swoon over his thoughtfulness looking up at him, “I’m starving. I would love to have lunch with you.”

- getting you flowers

whether it’s an anniversary, a birthday, or just because pato o’ward has flowers for you. they range from roses to a variety of different arrangements. your kitchen island is always decorated with flowers no matter what.

- cooking for you

his family taught him everything he needed to know to keep his partner happy; cooking was one of them.

you loved the smell of spices coming from your kitchen, your mouth would water and the sight of pato(sometimes shirtless) cooking was always a beautiful sight to see.

“taste this,” he’d shove the hot spoon into your mouth and watch your eyes roll to the back of your head, “good or bad?” he asks worriedly taking another bite himself.

“delicioso.”

- watching your favorite movies with you/listening to the music you like

he didn’t like it at first. oh no, he hated having to sit through a shitty rom-com or listen to the saddest song of the entire car ride, but he did it for you. because you enjoyed it.

“this is the saddest part.” you choke out, a million tissues surrounding your body while you watch that scene in the titanic. the one that has everyone question if there truly was room for jack.

“I know,” he bites his lip trying not to show that he had tears welling. he’s seen this movie about a million times with you, but it still gets him. the dramatics were just that good.

“are you going to cry with me this time?”

“no,” he rolls his eyes playful before a single tear slips down his cheek, “okay maybe I am.”

he takes a tissue from the box and dabs his watery eyes, “I’d rather listen to dear John than watch this scene.”

“imagine dear John during this scene.”

“now you’re just trying to kill me, y/n.”

#pato o’ward imagine #pato o’ward x reader #pato o ward imagine #pato o’ward #pato o ward x reader #pato o’ward x y/n #pato o'ward #pato o’ward fic #pato o ward #pato o’ward fluff #indy car #indycar imagine #indycar x reader #indy car fic #indycar imagines #indycar fic #indycar #arrow mclaren #mclaren

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dlyblkanime · 1 year

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⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ “STARLION: The Thieves of the Red Night” OUT NOW 0.99 Kindle 19.00 Print

⭐️The Gods were real and their descendants have new jobs: Superheroes ⭐️

⭐️The most action-packed novel of the year, follows a young vigilante who goes undercover at a school for heroes in training, to find a thief among them and clear his own name. With a diverse cast of young heroes taking charge, StarLion melds the best of Marvel/DC and mythology for a world all of its own. ⭐️

⭐️Amazon⭐️ https://a.co/d/eQldNm3

0.99 Kindle 19.00 Print

Featuring: -11 full color illustrations -10 in-depth Character Profiles -A world that fuses mythology and world history, where man and Gods have always walked side by side. -Anime tropes such as flashy powerhouse battles, color-coded auras, a mysterious, yet inviting mentor, a military organization that has no problem hiring teenagers, and even a character with animal ears.

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ind1c0lite · 1 year

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Being a menace to ur partner and stealing his glasses <33

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #narumitsu #indys art #as said these two have been living rent free in my head as of late HGJKHLJ #just #GOD them <33333 you know???#also these two are 100% the type to refer to each other as their partner rather than boyfriend ya know?#it just fits them so much more hgjkhlj #I need to read more fics of them if yall got any good recs send them my way 👀

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lovelyhan · 9 months

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imagining jeonghan as your roommate and you're just friends. REALLY you're just friends.

friends who started going out on dates as a joke because you were both bored. friends who always call each other every night when one of you is out of town because you missed the sound of their voice. friends who sleep in each other's beds until you don't know what it feels like to be alone anymore.

jeonghan's just your friend — really, he is! so even if your heart aches with lovesickness every time he flashes you a lazy smile, you take it in stride. because jeonghan is a nice friend. a wonderful friend. you wouldn't trade what you have with him for anything else.

even for the paper thin chance that he might just be as lovesick as you are.

someone asks, "are you guys dating?" one day when you're all hanging out with a bigger circle and before you can deny the allegations, jeonghan intercepts with a calm and confident, "yes."

you think about it the entire drive home because... you're just friends, right? friends who go on dates but aren't dating. friends who love each other but aren't in love.

oh wait. that only makes one of you.

"what do you mean we're dating?" you dare to ask jeonghan once he pulls over at a red light — a frown contorting your features. "we're just friends, aren't we?"

jeonghan hums as his fingers drum across the steering wheel. "hn? we've been on at least twelve platonic dates. that counts as dating, right?"

"...when does it become not platonic then?"

he doesn't answer right away, slanted eyes glued to the traffic lights counting down until they glow green again. you don't make it a habit to figure out what goes on in jeonghan's head. you've never once won that game and you've always been a sore loser.

but right after he steps on the gas pedal to zoom past the empty streets again, jeonghan — your roommate, your confidant, your friend — smiles at you with tenderness in his eyes that's familiar and foreign both at the same time.

"how about date number thirteen?" he asks before making a sharp right that's definitely not en-route to your shared apartment. "the carnival by the pier closes at three a.m. and i know that parlor game stuffies are the key to your heart."

you stare at him for a beat longer — wondering if there's a catch. a punchline to some joke you're not quite getting.

but you've been friends with jeonghan for so long that you're well-aware that the only way you can figure him out is to not figure him out at all.

"okay," you respond coolly, trying to keep your heart from bursting when you place your hand on top of jeonghan's from where he firmly grips the gear shift. "you better make up for not buying me one of those ikea sharks."

jeonghan snorts. "hey! blåhaj is out of our budget!"

jeonghan's a good friend. the best friend you could ask for, really. but the morning after he takes you to the midnight carnival, you're glad to know he's an even better boyfriend.

#svthub #i have a chronic problem of writing fic ideas whenever i need to study #this is sfw btw #also shoutout to indi for feeding me so much jeonghan brainworms with a single tiktok #im never recovering from this actually #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x reader #🌸 soft thoughts #lovelyhan #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan fanfic

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hanasnx · 2 years

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rain - spider-man / peter parker

summary: sweet sweet spider-loving. MINORS DNI

character(s): spider-man / peter parker x fem!reader (can be any spider-man you imagine like tasm)

word count: 5k

warnings: explicit sex, spidey being very impatient, mask kink mask kink mask kink & suit kink <3, VERY SLIGHT dub con because there was no explicit ask for consent— things were implied, no capitalization i apologize if it bothers u

notes: this is my first smut fic that’s been finished. ive been writing for a long time but this is the first time i’ve put it on anything :) i imagine spider-man from the 2018 insomniac game on ps4 “marvel’s spider-man” his voice actor and his character design is my favorite but you can imagine any spider-man u want, holland, garfield, maguire hehe

the droplets of rain pitter pattered onto peter’s suit and he shivered from the biting cold. the combination of water and fifty two degrees. he sniffed and rubbed his nose. “wish i had read the weather report before i went out.” he thought aloud to himself. early in the game he realized no one could hear him when he was perched on the corner of rooftops. it was safe to let that little voice inside become vocal. everyone had one. everyone talks to themselves. he likes to think it helps him organize. realistically, it’s less lonely.

ah, aloneness. he used to covet it. the isolation. it was quiet and safe, and he knew himself best. he didn’t have to talk to anyone. no one talked to him.

“god, i’m gonna go crazy.” peter aimed and swung away, looking for trouble.

he dialed. he waited. she picked up. “yuri? tell me you have something,”

“uh… no. not right now anyway. you’ve pretty much cleared up the last of the loose ends, spider-man. nice work.” her tone was refreshingly grateful, but his heart sunk with disappointment. he needed some action, itching for it. if he had ever been addicted before, he would recognize this as a need for a fix. something had to get his adrenaline pumping. yuri realized the silence. “what? you only answer to ‘spider-cop’ now?” she taunted. peter didn’t take the bait unusually. “hey, is there something wro—?”

“thanks anyway, yuri. gotta go.”

“um, ok—“

he hung up and landed on an edge. he groaned to the sky, as if he needed to tell it his frustrations. he should be happy to go home, have a night off. but he just felt stuck. and restless. he raised his arms, level to his shoulders, stretching out his chest. “breathe, spidey, breathe.” he closed his eyes. inhale, hold, exhale. he tipped backward, falling. inhale, hold, exhale. in perfect form, he flipped. over and over again. when did i get used to this much g-force? how has my head not been bashed in by a ledge? how many times can i flip before i forget which way is up? inhale, hold, exhale.

you.

peter’s eyes opened. he saw the world familiarly, zipping by him. it was too much. he shut them again. and in the comforting darkness, you returned, like a dream. you were an imprint on his brain.

“peter,” you cooed lovingly, “why don’t you come over, peter? you never visit me anymore.”

he opened his eyes. the ground was growing increasingly nearer, faster than he remembered it could. oh, but he couldn’t let go of you now. not yet. he squeezed them closed, desperately grasping onto the cusp of this new fantasy.

“i’m getting tired of waiting for you, peter~” you growled, disguised as a humble murmur, and you sank deeper into the cushions of the bed. your impatience poisoned him. he wanted to please you.

but you were just so irresistible, pouting or not. he took notice of how he pictured you. wearing a lavender silk nightgown that ended high on your thigh, with dangling strings of bows and dainty mesh.

god her nipples are hard.

your eyebrows raised as if you heard his thoughts and he felt blush heat up his cheeks. embarrassed, until your eyes wandered down his abdomen, landing on his clothed sex. “guess they’re not the only ones that are hard, huh?” you got on her hands and knees, and his pants tightened; frozen in place as you crawled towards him. he knew he’d start stuttering by now if this was real. blubbering as he helplessly watched you undo the buckle of his pants. “but you know what’s even harder, peter?” you asked him in a whisper, raising yourself properly on your knees so you could ghost your lips over his.

he leaned into you, chasing your mouth. “what?” he replied in a murmur, determined to silence you with his kiss.

you lingered a moment, gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips. your hand grasped his length and peter’s breath hitched in his throat. “the ground when you don’t pull up.” you lulled. he hesitated, drawing back.

“what?”

your voice rang clear, resounding in his skull like a bell. “pull up, peter. pull up!”

“woah!” he opened his eyes just in time, webbing an edge at the last second before he flattened on the pavement like a real bug. his fingers curled around the ledge and he pulled himself up to sit, breathing hard. he pushed the air from his lungs in a huff, going limp and laying on his back on the rooftop. he picked up his phone.

there was nothing on your snapchat story besides your cat. instagram too. you weren’t busy.

yea, you weren’t busy. not really. you were watching the second princess diaries movie because you felt like getting your heart squeezed by chris pine. however, it wasn’t occupying your thoughts like you hoped it would.

a ding from your phone alerted you to a text from a friend.

i left my dress at your house :,(

you furrowed your eyebrows, responding promptly.

your dress honey? which one?

it’s black. goes down to the thigh i think

you stood up from your lazy boy and took a look around.

where’d you leave it babe?

im guessing bathroom?? it was last saturday. i crashed at your place after My Night Out On The Town™ & borrowed some of your clothes to sleep in

you stepped in and turned the bathroom light on. you didn’t see it.

oh right ! the simpsons tshirt i was wondering where that got off to

i think im gonna keep it

you keep that i keep the dress

fair enough sugar plum. we make the trade at midnight. deal?

deal. i’ll see u at midnight, im sure i’ll find your dress by then

thank you my dear!!

you smiled. she’s sweet. you pocketed your phone and kept an eye out. sure enough, the dress was thrown haphazardly over a chair. you almost didn’t recognize it blending in with your clothes but this was definitely something she’d wear. you held it out in front of you by the straps, examining it for stains when you noticed how cute it looked.

damn. well i’m sure she won’t mind i try it on a second. you thought.

so you peeled off your pajamas and shimmied on that dress. it really was cute. spaghetti straps and a deep v-neck. made your girls pop too. you turned around and stretched the material taut over your ass. “shit, girl, you look good.” you remarked.

a moment passed of admiring yourself. “well, i have to complete the look.” before i have to give it up. your fingers hooked into the bands of your stilettos and you grabbed a shawl with melodramatic potential from your closet. it added but it didn’t complete. so you tapped the palette with your brush and dusted your eyes, “god, forgive me for wasting good makeup on a night in.” you said through a funny, concentrating expression.

it was a worthy sacrifice. you shouldered the shawl and checked yourself out in the mirror. you were nearly there. what was missing? you discarded the shawl, it was no longer working. your eyes trailed from your painted toenails over your shaved legs and good boob day to your hair.

my hair…

so you pulled and twisted and bobby pinned but it just wasn’t right. undoing what you had done, your hair unraveled into accidental perfect little curls. if you kept still, you could keep those perfect little curls around a while longer…

no. better use hairspray.

to get the proper experience, you rushed over to your full length mirror in the living room. safe to assume, you were stunning. you hardly recognized you. “oh, my god. oh, my god!” you strutted, posed. “yes.” you stuck another one. “oh, yes.” and another. “really feel it, babe, look at you!” you twirled, pretending to be your own photographer, praising your modeling.

you tried to sit in your lazy boy in an intimidating, temptress sort of way. claws placed purposefully on the arm rests, your legs crossed over one another. you embodied seductive villainy. you felt hot like one. bad. it felt so… good. “you’re killing it.” you flattered yourself, but it was hard to take yourself seriously when you were sitting in cushioned leather. you needed a real throne. in the meantime, you didn’t think twice about having more fun.

“ah! spider-man, baby, i’ve been expecting you.” you cooed. you pursed your lips in thought; that was way too cliché.

you spun on your heel, “spider-man?” you gasped dramatically, a hand over your chest in shock, the other, pretending to fashion an opera length cigarette holder, “in my living room? get out of town!”

your hand rested on the edge of a table, letting you lean on it for support as you twirled your glass in your hand, mixing it as if it was alcohol like brandy or something villainous like that. it was just sweet tea. “oh, spider-man. you’re here early.” you lulled, and took a seductive sip of your tea. slowly, letting your lips kiss the glass, and the smooth liquid to glide past them. you lowered it, leaving a red stain of lipstick. “care for a drink?”

you couldn’t help but smile as you checked yourself out one last time. your friend should be picking up the dress soon, so it was time to hang up the villain version of you and go back to sweatpants. maybe treat yourself to a little ice cream as a reward for looking so good. as a last hurrah, you winked at your reflection, “baby, you’re so hot i might just fuck you senseless myself.” you joked.

“i think that’s my job tonight.” a voice coming from behind you brutally awakened you from your trance and you yelped in surprise. you spun around and your arms wrapped around yourself on instinct, as if you were nude.

the blue and red of a friendly neighborhood superhero caught your eye. attached to the ceiling, the webhead hung, lightly swaying as he watched you with tempered anticipation. praying for a positive reaction. “hey, (y/n).” he tilted his head. “cute outfit. what’s the occasion? prom?”

“oh, shut up, perv.” you fisted the fabric of a pillow in anger, tossing it at him haphazardly, which he didn’t dodge.

“i deserve that.”

“how long were you watching? how long were you in my house?” you demanded, blush heating your cheeks. it was embarrassing, being caught red headed. you were just messing around, everybody does that. spider-man seemed to take notice of your blush, and crept toward you on the wall, stalking closer in a stance that reminded you of a cat readying to pounce… or more appropriately, a spider.

your skin tingled with anticipation, side eyeing him crawl closer. he faced the floor and picked up his legs keeping his fingers glued to the wall. in a model of peak human condition, he flipped over and skillfully lowered himself onto the floor. you gulped. he was so hot in that suit. he strode towards you but you didn’t back down. instead of stopping to tower over you, establish his dominance, he passed by you, saying, “i thought you liked me watching you.” which somehow made you feel even smaller. you swallowed again, staring at his back. those corded muscles rippling underneath that skin tight suit was enough to make you salivate. he was toying with you.

“that‘s not the point here and you know it.” you started again, feigning strength in your voice but it was failing you. he could hear that. you know he could.

he halted to gaze out of the open window to your balcony. “have you been waiting for me? you left the window open, i assumed it was an invitation.” he glanced over his shoulder. you couldn’t see the smile on his face. you felt the need to explain yourself, sheepish from the interruption of your dress-up game. “and in this outfit too? you didn’t want me to ruin it?” the question was laced with disbelief, as if it wasn’t a ploy you put on in order to lure him.

it was so hard to think when he talked like this. you swallowed thickly and set your drink down, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “it’s not my dress.” come to think of it, your friend was coming at midnight, you should stay vigilant for that. spider-man wasn’t bothered at all, offering a solution as easy as breathing.

“take the dress off then.” heat pooled in between your legs at the statement. when you couldn’t speak, he added something else, “the rest is yours right.” he bowed his head as he generously looked you up and down, “i recognize those heels,” he reminisced knowingly, surfacing the memory within you of wearing these during one of your escapades with him in the past. “the makeup is yours.” as he spoke, he sauntered closer, taking note of how your eyes were glued to the way his hips moved. his gloved hand came up to tangle in your hair, “this hair…” yanking downwards to force you to look up at his towering form. even in your black heels he was taller than you. lengthy, toned, and lean. this suit made you want to lick stuff off of him. “obviously yours. the jewelry— i was there when you picked this choker out.” his hand came up to hook his finger in the necklace, drawing a line underneath it absentmindedly. he resisted the urge to remind her his hands were her favorite choker. “you gonna take the dress off or should i? because baby, i’m getting tired of waiting.”

it had been so long since this scene was played out with you two, where he desired you enough to take the control away from you. it was invigorating, and lit a fire in your chest that drove you to listen. your hand reached behind you to grasp the base of the zipper, dragging it down in order to reach the zip, and tugging it slowly and smoothly, until you were able to push the straps off your shoulders. this has happened so many times, that the look of spider-man no longer bothered you. blank eyes only hid the brown ones underneath that held so much lust for you. it was exciting, not being able to see his face. the dress pooled around your legs, and you stepped out of it, kicking it to the side. because of your lack of planning, you didn’t pick out a cute set of lingerie. you were simply bare. naked and hot. at the sight of you, you heard spider-man exhale sharply. now it was your turn to move things along, “well? what are you waiting for?” it was breathless. vulnerable. a plea. in minutes, the hero had you begging for him all over again.

his hand came up to pinch the hem of his mask, about to lift it up over his lips. your hand halted his, fisting his suit after to get him closer as you told him quickly, “leave the mask on, dear god, leave it on.” without wasting a second, he stooped to pick you up by your thighs, bringing you over to your kitchen table to set your back onto it. one of your chairs was kicked out of the way causing it to skid. the spider was gearing up to eat you out like he’s been thinking about for hours. have you writhing and coming on his tongue over and over— but you were explicit. leave the mask on. his hand squeezed your thigh involuntarily at the thought, his other one running down from your clit over the opening of your sex causing you to whine. being patient was painful, so you curled towards him to guide his movements but he wouldn’t have it. snatching your wrist and pinning it next to your head. in a skilled maneuver he webbed it to the table, trapping that arm above your head. “hey!” you called, but he ignored you, smacking your pussy to cause you to keen. “baby, i need your fingers, i need you, i need something,” you were desperate, surprised at yourself that he could goad such a response from you with nothing but a few words and a dry spell. he granted you friction, circling your clit with his finger.

“oh, you need something, alright,” he told you, alternating giving your clit attention, and plunging a finger inside of you to tease you further. frustrating you was in order, after everything you’ve done to him since the last time you two got together. “all those pictures, and those texts,” he groaned. images of your new bikinis, new bras and panties in red, your perfect tits in candlelight or your toys playing with your wet pussy. “you need a good, hard fuck, don’t you?” he added another finger, and another, feeling you loosen like putty in his hands. you nodded feverishly, filthy sounds pouring from your mouth now that he was curling his fingers inside of you. “oh, c’mon, angel, say it. you’ve been waiting for me so impatiently, now that i’m here, you can’t even tell me you missed me? that you wanted me here?” you cried at this words, unable to open your eyes when they were rolled so far back in your head as he abused that spongy spot inside of you. it was so sudden, no prep, and he was expecting you to have coherent thoughts, and then speak them. it was too much.

you tried. you tried really hard. “yes. yes,” you agreed, “please don’t stop.” his pace didn’t falter, he liked that you were responding, and he loved knowing how hard it was for you to respond. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he eyed yours, parted in sinful pleasure, awaiting a kiss to swallow your moans. this mask thing was so hard, but so enticing. “c’mon, spidey, i wanna come on your fingers.”

“no way.” he told you, enthralled at the idea of denying you for all of your terrible teasings while you two were apart. at the words, you picked your head up to look at him with such a delicious, crestfallen countenance. he wished to savor it a little longer, but he couldn’t pass up another chance to bully you, “i’m gonna edge you like you wouldn’t believe,” you whined in protest, but he was busy, paying attention to your clit, and when you tried to close your legs, his hand pushed your thighs apart harshly, “oh no no no,” he said with a malicious laugh, “don’t give up now, sweetheart, don’t you wanna make me proud?” it was such a mean thing to say, and it made the coil in your belly tighten regardless. he had you where he wanted you, “can you believe this is only two fingers?” he snickered, and your only free hand reached for him lazily. “don’t make me tie down this one too.” his wanting was punctuated by adding another finger inside you, and you cried out at the feverish pace.

“god, peter, please!” there it was. his name. he didn’t even have to tell you to say it this time. he wondered if that sullied the illusion of the spider-man roleplay, but you didn’t seem to mind too much. your back arching off the table. he could feel you clenching around him like a vice, but you were so wet he was able to maintain his cadence.

his voice dripped with false sympathy, “you gonna come, baby? c’mon, angel, are you?” he demands your answer, and you can only nod, your face contorted in rapture. that was his cue to slow down, which made your frustrated noises all the more satisfying, attempting to grab at his wrist in order to fuck yourself. that earned you complete denial, and he slipped his hand out from you, leaving your pussy throbbing, dripping all over your kitchen table.

“you’re being so mean,”

“you like it.” he rounded the table and drew your free arm to him, successfully webbing it down to match your other restraint. like a bitch in heat, you reflexively moved to dip your head over the edge of the table, opening your mouth as you eyed his pants. you were asking to suck him off. the act was so devious, he gave in immediately, hooking his thumb in the hem of his pants and freeing himself, his other hand tangling in your hair to help guide his leaking cock to your mouth. he would never admit how much he loves this position. watching your straining throat, the vibrations of your grateful hum around his cock, your tits bouncing with each of his movements that made him lean over to clutch one of them, earning another one of your moans. he exhaled, finding it much harder to compose himself, “you are so damn good at that,” he crooned as your tongue swirled around him just how you knew he liked. when you gagged he pulled out to let you catch your breath, a string of his precum mixed with your saliva connecting your mouth and his cock. as soon as you reached for him again, he obliged, and to show his appreciation, his fingers returned to your neglected sex, filthy sounds pouring from the both of you. it was music to his ears.

you needed more, and once he noticed your change in pace, he took it as his hint to move on. panting, you looked up at him with such a drunken content face, once perfect makeup smudged, he felt like coming all over it. your tongue came out to lick your lips and he wished he could kiss you. a second he lingered, but got a hold of himself, ripping apart his webbing entrapping your arms like string. his hand at the back of your head aided in helping you up. “i know you said you would edge me more but can we do that after we—“ you started, stepping onto a chair while he circled the table, pulling you up from the surface so you could safely walk down. immediately, you were in his arms again.

“after we fuck? yes.” he finished for you, and by his tone it seems your little ploy of getting his dick in your mouth again worked its endless wonders once more in getting what you wanted. you grinned, and kissed him over his mask to his surprise. he felt your lips mold into his through the thin fabric, and he figured this was good enough, his fingers digging into the plush of your ass in desperation. thinking of everything he could do to you on his day off. out of instinct, he began to part his lips to play your tongue with his but had to stop himself when there was a barrier.

once your lips detached, you were free to say, “where do you want me?” but you already had an idea. it was confirmed when he whipped you around, bending you over the table again. you laughed breathlessly, your tits squished underneath you, feeling the coldness of the wood. it was obvious this was one of his favorites when you wore heels because now your entrance lined up perfectly with his—

“i’ve missed you so fucking much,” he confessed, unable to wait any longer to plunge his aching cock into your silken folds. it was too much to bear, causing you to clutch onto the table in delicious pain. he was so big it hurt in all the right ways, sliding against every inch of the inside of you. you were so wet, it allowed him freedom in his pace, your hole loosening in order to accommodate him. you rocked back into him with his thrusts to meet him, his hands on your hips providing a support. you moaned his name, causing him to reach forward and push your head down onto the table, your cheek resting against it. you whimpered as he continued fucking into you with reckless abandon. clearly, he did miss you. and you missed him so dearly. your fingers weren’t as long as his, your dildo was nothing compared to him. this scene he’s created as been so enjoyably rare, you loved every second of him taking control this time, taking what he wanted.

you couldn’t answer him, instead greedily taking what he was giving you, he praised you, “i love this pussy, baby, you’re taking me so good. i love filling you. you’re so hot bouncing on my cock like this,” it made you work harder, fucking yourself back onto him, and getting more force from him in return. the pace was unimaginable, you were screaming with his thrust. his tip repeatedly kissing your cervix in a way that made your toes curl and your legs shake. that coil in your core was back and worse than ever, making you beg.

“don’t stop, please, whatever you do, peter, don’t stop,” you ordered, tears seeping from your eyes onto the table as you closed in on finishing. he couldn’t help but squeeze one more position out of you before that happened, guiding your back to him by your hair, sending pleasant tingles shooting down your spine as he blew your back out. his hand enclosed itself around your throat as the new angle reinvented your idea of pleasure, a chain of screams emitting from you. everytime he did this to you, he made sure you could never close your mouth.

“you like that, baby? how do i feel?” holding the ability to speak over your head would be cruel, if you couldn’t hear how close he really was in his voice. his movements were becoming more erratic, and he couldn’t keep himself quiet either. the position he had you in gave you a front row seat to his breath on your ear, and gift wrapping his whines in perfect packaging that had you reeling.

“so good, spider-man, you feel so fucking good.” he had such an exploitable kink for his superhero name, keening himself in a way that caused you to moan loudly, “i love hearing you, baby,” he listened to you, letting every sound spill from his lips.

“you close? i can feel you. i can hear your heartbeat, smell you. tell me.” he spoke over the sopping sounds of your pussy and the snapping of his hips against your ass.

“i am, yes i am, i’m gonna come,” you admitted, the last word resounding in a pitchy whimper, making him groan.

“do it, c’mon, baby, come all over me,” his hand attached to the arm around your middle moved down in order to rub circles into your clit that made you tremble in his arms. you didn’t have to be told twice to let go, feeling the warmth of you drip down your thighs. to get him to stop putting too much pressure on your clit, you had to put his hand over his, waiting for him to follow your lead and come inside you. he fucked your wetness back into you with fervor, tensing up and no longer keeping pace. his eyes squeezed shut behind his mask, and you felt his seed flood inside of you as he let it go, moaning in relief. it trailed down your thighs along with your own. his forehead fell onto your shoulder as he moved until he was too sensitive.

“spider-man,” you say in surprise, “you’re so dirty for a super-hero,” he chuckled at that, pulling himself out of you and ripping his mask up off his face, revealing his familiar face and his grin. he was so happy to see you, and when you faced him fully he took you up in his arms. you were at a loss to how he still had energy to pick you up, and you squealed.

“c’mon, let’s go take a shower,” he threw you over his shoulder and you cried out again.

“peter!”

“what? we should really clean up so i can get started on that edging i promised you.” he told you, your hands at the base of his torso to keep yourself up. you eyed the back of his head.

“my friend is going to be here any minute, and i have to return that dress.”

your friend knocked, and after a second, you opened it wearing an oversized t-shirt. “hey, hon!” you greeted, and she took note of your appearance. disheveled hair, frizzy with knots in your curls. black makeup smudged under your eyes, running down your cheeks. if you had thought to fix it before opening the door, you would’ve.

“rough night?” she asked slyly, her meaning shining through with her mischievous glance.

your eyes widened, and you sheepishly muttered, “you could say that.” you handed her the dress. “thanks again.” she handed you your simpson’s t-shirt.

“no problem, sweets.” your friend replied, tossing the dress onto her shoulder like dishrag and waved good-bye. you closed the door, pressing your back against it with a sigh of relief. you heard the shower running, and pete’s voice calling for you.

“you coming?”

“coming!”

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ddejavvu · 4 months

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idgaf about eddie but i’ve wanted venom since i was a wee lad. venom who’s all big and mean and manhandles you because you’re nothing. talks about how he could squash you like a bug between his fingers yet here you are letting him fuck your interesting little human pleasure hole

FUCK indy i've had this brewing in my inbox and now i've finally got the time to give it the attention it deserves <3

this post is 18+, minors dni. cw for mentions/'threats' of extreme violence/death, don't like don't read.

"I could kill you," Venom grunts, not a threat but an observation, "I kill lots of people."

Your face pinches down into a grimace but the waver in your voice isn't from the imagery, "Venom, no, don't- don't say that! I don't want to know."

His viscous appendages, more tentacle than hand, edge deeper into your hole, filling in every inch of space and unconstrained by defined mortal flesh. A web of the black goopy substance holds you against an empty wall in Eddie's apartment, pinning your back to the brick and scraping your skin.

"But you liked hearing me tell you," The symbiote practically purrs, his voice gravelly and miles away from the safety of human baritone, "Your hole got tighter around me when I said it."

"No, it- I don't like- no!" You gush, unable to defend yourself but desperate to save face, "That's not true."

"It is," Venom presses, another stray tendril suctioning to the curve of your ass and leaving burning skin in its wake, "I will do it again. I am stronger than you."

As a testament to his statement, he expands the web of black fluid that's holding you against the wall, forcing it around your neck like a snug sleeve. He's right; you can't move. Of course you'd known it since the first time you laid eyes on the alien, but the effortless proof he offers you has your hole fluttering around his tendril once more.

"I could smother you," Venom continues, and you feel a distinct throb between your legs, his makeshift dick only seeping further into you, "I could flood your lungs and drown you," He threatens, the slime crawling up around your chin and mouth, hovering teasingly over your nose as you frantically gasp through it, "I could squeeze you until each of your bones break and you are helpless."

You do more than clench around him. The acrid stab of fear in your chest couples with the rising swell of bliss below it, and you wriggle your hips pathetically in his strong grip as you ride out your orgasm on his tentacle.

"I was right," Venom concludes, far from human niceties, though he still suspends you against the wall as your limbs sag with exhaustion, "You want me to kill you."

"No, Venom," You swear, though you don't have the energy to be as alarmed as you should be, "I- I don't want you to kill me. It's just- sometimes I think it's hot to remember that you could."

Milky white eyes blink at you, once, twice, and Venom decides, "I do not understand humans."

But you're saved the effort of explaining yourself when he draws his tendril out of your sensitive hole, letting his obscenely long tongue draw your wetness into his mouth, "But if you think it is hot, I will not let you forget that I could crush you."

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industrations · 7 months

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hiiii totally random but do you have any wolfstar or jegulus fic recs cause i’m bored trying to avoid doing college applications pls

Here’s a few i’ve read recently:

Beneath a big blue sky

R.J.L. Reads a self help book

Back when we were dinosaurs

Paint it black

Wading in waist high water

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool (but he’s not as cool as me)

You wouldn’t like me

Only the brave

#indi finally answers something #fic recs:

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essektheylyss · 2 months

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hi hello hi I need to scream for a sec but I HAVE A SHORT STORY IN A PRINT ANTHOLOGY! like a real actual physical book!!! the anthology as a whole is about resource scarcity and specifically the moment a resource runs out, and true to form I wrote a funky thing about time and grief and messy familial relationships and gardening. cuz what is there to do when something ends other than to keep maintaining your plants.

this isn't even to say you should totally buy this thing but if you do want to check it out, it's available for preorder

#megs is writing #if there's one thing you gotta know about me it's that I will make a rosebush into a motif at any given opportunity #almost like I grew up with like 20 of them (not an exaggeration)#also for the record aan has REALLY FUN anthologies so if you are looking for funky spec fic from a small press I highly recommend #I'm trying to submit again to their current call cuz I LOVE their anthology themes but we'll see if I get my shit together in time.#I love having a STRUCTURE to write to. would love to just. write commissioned fiction for a living. it'd be great. genuinely I'd love it.#but alas our technocracy that wants to outlaw genuine human expression believes that should be illegal.#we stay silly regardless. mostly by working with small indie presses.

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thatsdemko · 10 months

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Woodward avenue - p. o’ward

masterlist

pairing: pato o’ward x fem!reader

warnings: talks of Detroit(but I’m from here) + minor anxious thoughts + implications of the future

a/n: I was the target audience for this fic 😅 so enjoy my self indulged fic! xx

the automotive business wouldn’t be what it was without Detroit. pato knows that, it’s why he’s wandered the streets of downtown Detroit, to pay his respect to those workers who created the business they have today. without Detroit, there couldn’t have been an Indy car, nascar, or even formula one. the automative business bloomed here, and now Indy car will race it’s straights and turns once again.

he’s not one to wander too far from the track, but the graffiti on the buildings and the smell of chili brewing grew his curiosity. he wandered the streets, and now began to wish he didn’t go alone. it wasn’t a scary city, he’s seen far worse, he’s now lost looking up at the Woodward street sign.

not a helpful soul roams the streets, just the drunk homeless man who mutters words to himself that are completely useless with directions. he’s lost hope, as he knows he’s got to be at the track in thirty minutes.

“let me guess, you wandered too far down Woodward?” your voice startled him. he turns around to see you standing there, an annoyed look on your face. you didn’t hate that indy car was back in Detroit, but you did hate the obnoxious sounds of the engines that interrupted your morning and afternoon.

“something like that.” he shoves his phone into his back pocket following you down the street. you weren’t too inviting to him, but he needed a way back to his motorhome, and he was sure by now people were beginning to be suspicious of his whereabouts.

“you a fan?” you point to the mclaren shirt, an automotive company you were well familiar with seeing. the cars were too expensive to be outsourced from Detroit, but your fathers dedication and passion to the fancy cars, helped you single him out on the street.

“a driver actually. and I need to be on the grid in thirty minutes.” he checks his watch nervously hoping you’re not leading him to a sketchy parking lot or a white van, but he somehow knew he could trust you. maybe it was the fans and the news casts that made him believe all Detroit native were good people, but he could certainly say he was weary about you.

“oh, a driver? my dad would be so jealous right now, he loves Indy 500– or whatever is filling up these streets.” you gesture to Woodward, closed down until the Grand Prix was done. it pissed more than half a dozen people, but you got a good view from your apartment of the circuit.

“Indy cars, actually, but you get the gist.” he heaves out a chuckle under his breath.

you take the chance to glance over at the man you were helping. your morning walk to get coffee was interrupted by a strangers confusion in his eyes, you were instantly drawn to help him.

two pieces of the mop of brown hair fall just above his eyes, the ones that lured you in. you look back over to the street when his eyes flicker to meet yours. you smell the burnt rubber, tires burning against the shitty pavement of Detroit.

“so first time here?” you ask, out of the corner of your eyes you see him nod, “yeah, actually. I was just trying to take in the city and got a little too lost.” he replies, rubbing the nape of his neck with his fingers.

he takes a look at you now, lips formed in a soft smile as the cool breeze lifts your hair off your back. you love this city, and he can tell by the wave you give to the local drivers who stop.

“who’s this? a new boyfriend?” an elder man pulls to the side of the street pointing out pato. the man knows your kindness runs too far, but seeing the McLaren shirt he knows why you’ve helped him in the first place.

“he drives, and he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’m pato.” the man waves from behind you to the driver in the car, your dads best friend who nods, smile widening on his face.

“indeed you are my friend. good luck out there!”

you watch his car drive away, before you turn to man beside you, “pato? I like that name.” you gesture for him to continue to follow and he does, allowing you to take the lead like the last time.

“it’s short for patricio, but I don’t know your name, you know?” he looks over at you, brown eyes glimmering in the sun that begins to increase in temperature as you continue to walk.

“y/n.” you stop pointing to the barriers that begin to line the sidewalks, “and I’m afraid this is where we part ways. if you follow the path you’ll find the entrance. good luck today and tomorrow.” you point to the barriers that line the sidewalks and the stands that you see in the distance.

“what would you say to me inviting you and your dad tomorrow? you said he’s a big fan, I’d love to have him in my garage.” his offer excites you, but you know what your father would say. offering a strange man a walk throughout the city, and then an invite to the McLaren garage? he’d think you’d gotten drop kicked on the sidewalk.

“I don’t know, he’ll question why you aren’t my boyfriend—“

“then tell him I am. what’s he got to know?” he smirks watching you open and close your mouth a couple of times.

“he knows you’re pato o’ward and if I was dating pato o’ward and didn’t tell him I’d be the worst daughter ever.”

“then you’re not dating pato o’ward. you’re dating just pato. the guy you met on Woodward.”

—

“dad, this is pato. I met him on Woodward yesterday—“

your dad scoff cuts you off, and he happily shakes the drivers hand, “pato o’ward, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m impressed with your work.” he beams with excitement, a thrill that runs through the drivers body knowing he’s made somebody proud today despite his finish.

“thank you, sir. your daughter helped me out a lot yesterday.” he flashes you a wink, one that your dad doesn’t catch because he’s too busy taking in all the mechanics, cars, and other sights in the garage. you couldn’t believe pato did this for you, matter of fact, for your dad. the man who got you into racing in the first place.

“you know, you come here again I can show you around all the auto factories? y/n can show you downtown Detroit— you know what you didn’t see.”

you laugh at your dads excitement reminding him pato has better things to do. he’s got a busy schedule, and racing came first. you spent a couple of hours last night doing your research on the Indy car driver, he wasn’t interested in much else beside racing.

“dad, he wouldn’t want to come back here I’m sure—“

“there you go again, assuming you know me.” pato tsks you shaking his head, that same smirk that drove you insane all last night forms on his lips, “sir, when can I come back? I’d love to join you and y/n.”

“I like you, pato. have you ever thought about dating anyone? my y/n is perfect for you.” you watch your dad pull pato aside, arm wrapped around his shoulders as he talks highly of you.

you just roll your eyes in embarrassment watching pato look over his shoulders and send you a wink. the universe works in mysterious ways, and you can’t believe it led you to pato o’ward on Woodward, the man you can now call your boyfriend.

#pato o’ward #pato o'ward #pato o ward x reader #pato o ward imagine #pato o’ward imagine #pato o’ward x reader #pato o’ward x y/n #pato o’ward fic #indy car #indycar #indycar x reader #indycar imagines #arrow mclaren #indycar fic #indycar imagine

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