#michelle jones smut

[obsessedprincess]

Pussy Is God (One-Shot)

moodboard by me (pics from pinterest)

pairing: MJ x fem!reader

summary: theres no better wake up call then your girlfriend worshipping you and your pussy

word count:1,126

warnings: this is basically just porn. established relationship, smut (body worshipping, oral fem receiving and giving duh, slight nipple play, slight cum eating, mj is nasty lmfaooo, the reader is sleeping but consent is already there)

a/n: eeeek happy pride everyone. I woke up very horny so i basically wrote what i dreamed about. This is my first time posting and writing smut so im v nervous. also this is based on kingprincess’ song with the same name. 🦢☁️🍯👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽🪞👼🏾🛏please like, reblog, and send comments <33

(ง •̀_•́)۶ *:･ﾟ✧MINORS DO NOT INTERACT [18+ ONLY]

The sun’s rays peeked through the blinds of your bedroom, casting an angelic glow over your face and body. The dust floating in the air made you look ethereal. MJ who was sitting up next to your sleeping form re-reading her copy of If Beale Street Could Talk couldn’t help but put the book down and admire you. From the acne scars that littered your face, the pout of your beautiful lips, your soft snores, and the soft supple skin of your back. God MJ felt blessed just to even be in the same bed as you. Let alone be able to call you hers. She shook her head with a smirk and brought her nimble fingers to your back, ghosting them over your spine. As she got lower until reaching the arch of your butt, meeting the blanket. MJ sucked in a breath and slowly slid the blanket off of you. Being the heavy sleeper you were, you just turned conveniently on your back, much to MJ’s happiness. She took a moment to pause and look at your breast. God did she love your breast, but she was much more focused on what lay between your legs. So she slid down the bed until she was right in front of your freshly painted toes. Guiding her gentle hands from the soles of your feet to your knees till she hooked your knees to bend them up and separate them. Your sleeping body slightly shuttered as the gentle breeze from the oscillating fan hit your now exposed core. MJ stilled as she was always so entranced by your godly pussy, now even more so as it already had slick making it shine. 

MJ couldn’t help but admire your most intimate spot. Staring at your weeping pussy she put her messy coils into a bun and got face level to your core. She decided to kiss your thigh, wanting to prolong her own personal heaven. Going between kissing, caressing, and nibbling so close to your core was what she needed to get riled up. When she decided enough was enough she blew lightly on your lips hearing a gentle moan move past your other lips. This encouraged her and she decided to lick your pussy lips, she wanted to love all of you. Worship you like the goddess you were. As much as she wanted to tease her sleeping beauty she decided to open up your lips revealing your waiting clit. MJ proceeded to lick from your hole to your clit. Focusing in and flicking the bud back and forth until you started to mumble incoherently. 

“This good angel?” MJ whispered back as if you could answer. 

She continued to focus on your clit, knowing how needy the button was, constantly needing stimulation. She sucked on your clit with vigor as she trailed her hands up your body, passed your soft tummy onto your left boob playing with the nipple. You eventually started humping your girlfriend’s face despite being asleep you recognized and craved her touch. MJ smirked at this and hummed against your aching pussy which is what woke you up. 

Your lashes fluttered and you peeled your eyes open. Taking a deep breath your eyebrow quirked up. That’s when you felt it again, the wetness of your pussy and the roughness of your lover’s tongue. At first, you thought it was a dream but then you looked down to your surprise MJ was going down on you like it was her last supper. You even noticed her subtly humping the mattress with her lips wrapped around your sensitive clit. When MJ felt your eyes on her she looked up continuing her ministrations to your now swollen clit. Eyes locked on each other in a trance full of love and admiration for each other. 

“Good morning,” you whispered, afraid to shatter the bubble you were both in. 

You lifted your hips allowing MJ to grip your back and stuff her face in between your legs. 

“Goodmorning,” she said, well-tried to say with a mouthful of your pussy. Causing you to giggle and shake until you felt yourself get closer to your release causing you to jolt. 

MJ gripped you tighter and took her dominant hand to your clit making hard precise slow circles with the heel of her hand as her tongue entered you. 

“Fuck MJ,” was all you could say without choking. 

You gripped her bun and pushed her head as she flicked her tongue in and out of your tight pink hole. MJ spit right in your hole and rubbed her face all over your sticky, wet pussy. You moaned louder at her actions, taking her head in your hands and bringing you face to face. MJ admired your face once more this time zeroing in on your soft lips as they turned up into a smile. The smile of a goddess she told herself as she pushed her lips to yours in a feverish kiss. Still, MJ was on a mission and inserted two of her fingers into your waiting hole. Still in the kiss, as your tongues danced you couldn’t help but moan into her mouth. Feeling her stretch you out, scissoring and pumping her fingers into your core was the best feeling in the world, especially in your still sleepy mind. You began to rock yourself to meet her thrusts causing her to go deeper. 

“Ahhh.”

“Like this angel, you want it like this”

“Mhhmmm”, you frantically nodded your head and gripped MJ’s face needing something to hold onto as you felt your high approaching.

MJ could tell you we’re close. So she kissed you deeper and inserted two more fingers and used her thumb to rub your slippery clit. 

That’s what did it. You clamped your legs together, and your body convulsed violently, pushing MJ away but she kept pounding deeper into you with her fingers cut low just for days like today. Despite the whines and yelp, she couldn’t get enough and you looked divine so she worked you through your orgasm. 

You were in heaven, you felt MJ still between your legs but couldn’t comprehend much. Everything was white. 

When MJ saw your breathing finally start to slow she let you lay down on your back and slid her now soaked and wrinkled fingers from your creamy pussy and stuck them right in her mouth. 

“Mhmm angel, just like honey.”

 And with that, she took her fingers from her mouth and kissed your nose. She got up from the bed, noticing the wetness between her own legs that had seeped onto her sleep shorts. Taking them off she went into the bathroom to start a bath for you. You were her god and she’d worship you all day.

#mj x reader #mj x y/n #michelle jones #michelle jones x y/n #michelle jones x reader #mj smut #michelle jones smut #pussy is god🦢☁️🍯👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽🪞👼🏾🛏 #princess writes smut ₍^⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝^₎ #princess luvs women👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾 #lesbian #sapphic sunday #mj oneshot #zendaya

[nebulaafterdark]

Spicy Masterlist

ALL WORKS ARE 18+

All To Myself

Only For You

Rue being your first time

Banging the heck out of each other

Elliot & Rue Spicy Headcanons

Baby Making 1.0

Zero Pressure

Only For You

Spicy Headcanons

Jules & Elliot Spicy Headcanons

Elliot & Rue Spicy Headcanons

Only For You

Spicy headcanons

Jules & Elliot Spicy Headcanons

NSFW Alphabet

#elliot smut #elliot euphoria #rue bennett smut #elliot imagine #elliot one shot #elliot x reader #elliot x y/n #rue bennett x you #rue bennett one shot #rue bennett x y/n #jules vaughn x you #jules vaughn smut #jules vaughn imagine #masterlist #michelle jones x you #michelle jones smut #michelle jones x reader #michelle jones

[itsybiggy]

Stuck With Me: Peter Parker x OC

Cute Peter Parker slow burn, less spiderman action more just good ol awkward Parker.

Peter has been in a bad mood all month, but with soon to be divorced parents, trying to figure out what's wrong with him is the last thing Lani needs. Thankfully summer break is here. Lani, Ned, Peter, and MJ set off on the summer vacation road trip to California. Drama ensues

🕸️Chapter 2🕸️

Chapter 1

Master list

•🕷️🕷️🕷️•

He left me on read. He never does that, like ever. My thoughts begin to wander to attempt to make evenly winged eyeliner.

So much for keeping it positive.

Intrusive thoughts pile up in my mind. I'm not dumb enough to really believe that Peter now hates the mere thought of me; but the little "read" under my text makes me anxious all the same.

I being wracking my brain. Thinking of everything I have said to him in the past weeks. I mean maybe I said something to make him upset or did something and just not realize it. But honestly, it only makes me smile as I recall the jokes we cracked and fun we all  have had. Nothing bad is really coming to mind.

My screen is still void of any text notifications.

I check my refection in the mirror, smiling. I usually try to stay positive when it comes to my appearance. And I definitely can't complain of how my butt looks my black maxi skirt. I adjusted my white crop top, making sure the tiny cross stitched spider was visible. After a quick click of my off brand Dock Martins I decided humidity was a virtue and mirror time was over.

It was already 5:15, I didn't feel quiet ready but Ned would be waiting.

~15 minutes later~

"GET IN LOSER WE ARE GOING SHOPPING!" I yell as Ned walks down the apartment stairs.

He gets in the car "Hey."

"Hey." My smile drops and I hope it's subtle. The tone of his voice worried me. Silence between us is uncommon. I squirm a bit in my seat.

Seeing as he isn't going to make conversation, I speak up.

"Did you get the texts from me and Michelle?" I say.

"Yeah, I have no idea what's wrong with him. Maybe we will figure out tonight" he says quickly, shrugs and looks out the window. Silence fills the car again.

I know you can't sound like anything over text, but Ned sounded a lot peppier when we were messaging. What was going on with my friends?

"We should go see a movie after."  I make a lame attempt to kindle a conversation.

Ned seems to perk up a bit at this.

"Yes! The Joker is out!"

I laugh at this, I'd never been much for DC superhero comics. Especially when they are made up. It didn't really make a lot of sense why someone would make up a superhero and a supervillain when there are plenty to choose from that are real. Movie production companies have tried to profit off of rising superhero stars. The movies are never as good as the up close and real action.

I shrug "I'll see whatever you want bubby."

He winces at 'bubby' and goes back to looking out the window.

I feel my face getting hot. Ok mental note, after being called bubby for 3 years Ned now doesn't like it.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH MY FRIENDS! Blasts in my mind. My only hope now was that Michelle was normal.

___

To my relief she was. We got to the diner at 6:04, Michelle sitting down at our usual table in the back. We try to sit in the back as to not disturb other customers. Our laughs are usually boisterous and frequent not to mention the cheeky jokes. And all being on the decathlon team, heated arguments or "debates" on some old dudes theories or such tend to heated. But we are high tipping customers so we don't worry about it too much.

"Hey guys surprised to see you have made it here alive." She jokes.

"I don't know where you got that I was a bad driver!" I motion for Ned to take a seat before I slide in next to him.

"Oh I think you know." She winks.

"what?" I look at her, perplexed before she shakes her head.

"Speak of the devil" she said just as Peter walks through the door.

The little bell at the top of the door gives a joyful ring. Peter flinches but his body quickly moved back into its slightly hunched position with a frown on his face. Oh great.

"Hey Peter!" I say as he sits down next to Michelle.

He looks into my eyes and gives a slight smile. But says nothing.

A waiter soon comes around with menus "Can I get you started off with anything to drink?"

"I will have a coke." Michelle starts.

"Same." Peter mumbles.

"Sprite." Says Ned cheerfully.

"Tea for me please and thank you." I say brightly, I had to stay positive. I am with my friends to get away from negativity, not have more of it.

Once the waiter left we all began talking. Peter slowly starts engaging more, and it seems to feel right again. Something about him is definitely off; though that does make me very worried about him, I know now was not the time to ask. I will just do my best to cheer my moody friend up.

I smile, mentally stepping back from the conversation, contentment filled my heart. There is nowhere I would rather be and no group of people I would rather be with. I mean they are the only friends I have...

Good Eats has become a favorite of ours. We started eating here for dinner or after school almost every weekend, for about 3 years now. It was cheap for the quality of simple yet delicious diner food. But it's usually pretty quiet in the evenings— (we learned the hard way to avoid it during the mornings where the line is out the door.) —a steady stream of customers usually taking things to-go. Which I don't get, a big part of this place being great is the aesthetic. It reminds me of a 70s diner and most likely opened then. Yellow booths, a jute box always playing great oldies music, kinda ugly wallpaper, and warm lighting. And the store owner is a really nice guy. He usually brings his grandkids. It's always funny when you get rung up by a 10-year-old or have your water refilled by a 7-year-old. Since we have been coming for so long so often, the owner has a special discount for us "I've got to treat my best customers right!"  he always says I'm pretty sure it's just a %10 student discount. We usually tip as much much as we can.

I snapped back into reality when I heard my name. I didn't really know who it came from.

"What?" I said shacking my head out of the clouds.

"We were asking about the van. Summer break is almost here, when is Caroline gonna be ready?" Ned asks

"Oh right, I would say just in time for school to let out." I say.

We have been planning our summer break since school started this year. It will be our last summer vacation ever, so it had to be epic. I always get excited butterflies from it, but it is usually mixed with dread too. Dread because I know when I get home my parents will be officially divorced. Not that I haven't known this was coming or that it needs to happen. It definitely does, I have a cup bruise on the side of my head to prove it.

No, nope stop! I feel my eyes watering. Internally I let out a big sigh. This summer vacation has to be perfect. I don't know what I will do if it's not.

"Alright let's go over the plans one last time," Peter says.

I smile reaching into my purse, and pull out a small, light pink, piece of paper. 1-10 lists of things we need to do while we are in California. We had decided a beach trip is definitely what we need.

I clear my throat and begin to read.

1. start off at Stark Tower to go over things with Tony such as Hotels, food reservations, and tickets

Did I mention all of this was Peter's early birthday gift from TS himself. We are all pretty jazzed. And by that I mean we about shit our pants when Peter told us.

2. head out across the country stopping at the finest Tony Stark hotels (hotels with penthouse suites that Tony has frequent so much he just straight up bought the hotels.)

3  get to LA and check out our crib

4. beach

5. Disney Land

6. More beach

7. eat at a super fancy restaurant

8. ruins of Mr. Stark's Malibu mansion

9. Santa Monica Pier

10. hike to the Hollywood sign

It was a packed summer for sure, but it had to be the best, it just had to be. My last slice of happiness before I move away with my mom, before I move from Queens to which ever relative my mom decides to move close to. Away from all of my friends, who are more of a family then my real ones. Who have gotten me through so much, stuck by my side through it all. And even feeling upset makes me feel like I'm a monster. I want to support my mom, but I don't want this! I don't want to be away from them. Away...I hate that word.

"You ok La?" Ned asks  his hand rests on my back, lightly rubbing it.

My cheeks grow warm with embarrassment- I was crying. And of course Ned's kind questioning made more tears flow. I quickly wipe my eyes with my sleeve, and give a quick fake smile to my friends. They look concerned, except Peter. He looks almost angry, this made me cry more. Amazing.

"Yeah I'm fine. I-uh-i yawned." I stammer, I yawned wtf, who would believe that?!

"What the hell Lani?! No one's yawns make them cry that much." Michelle said, her voice rose she was almost laughing at the dumb lie that came out of my mouth. But I knew she was just concerned.

Ned quickly drops his hand from my back, my head instinctively turning towards him. He's looking at Peter.

"I'm fine I, I-just." I paused. I had told them about my parents getting a divorce, but not much. More importantly, I hadn't told them I was moving, and I wasn't planning on it till the trip is over. If they knew it would just ruin the whole trip for me. Not to mention I was so scared to even say it out loud, it would just make it seem more real. I tried my hardest to not think about it ever. Yea I know it's is unhealthy, but it's how I'm coping now. Might as well let future Lani deal with it.

"It's just my parents divorce, it's getting close to the last of all the court stuff. I just, can't stop thinking about it." My face continued the hot embarrassed sensation. I felt my under arms tingle and I could feel their eyes in me. My eyes stayed glued on my hands like my left depended on it.

There was a small pause. Oh gosh this is embarrassing.

"Lani, no madder what, you will always have us. We love you." Michelle finally said. Her tender words caught me off guard.

I looked back at her, giving a genuine smile "Thanks, that means a lot."

But the little voice in the back of my mind kept screaming Except they won't always be there for you.

"Are you guys ready to order?" We all jumped a bit as the waiter had finally returned to serve us. She placed each of our drinks in front of us.

After we ordered I had asked if we could just forget I said anything, what I needed was a fun night with my friends. They all agreed and once Ned had brought up The Joker, a new conversation sprung. I was just happy to not discuss anything family related.

___

Once we had all gotten and eaten our food, we decided to head to the movie theater to watch The Joker.

"Ok how about Peter pays for drink, Ned pays for Popcorn, and Lani pays for the tickets?" Michelle suggests as we walk into the theater.

"Um, that's convenient, seeing as you pay for nothing." Said Peter, slightly annoyed "and we should all pay for our own tickets, they are too expensive for Lani to pay for alone."

Michelle give a little snicker before we all decide it was every man for himself/herself.

I walk up to the counter, and smile brightly at the young man at the register. "Four tickets for The Joker, please and thank you."

"Sorry The Joker is sold out." He replies in a monotone voice.

"What?!" Ned exclaimed "but- I just checked online like 5 hours ago."

"Sorry The Joker is sold out" he repeats in the same voice. I don't blame him, he has probably had to say this so many people tonight.

"Hey, guys it's fine we can just pick another movie!" I say trying to lift their spirits.

"It 2 is out." Michelle offers.

Oh no

"Yeah I'm down" says Ned.

Oh no

"Yeah me too" says Peter.

Shit

Three pairs of eyes look at me. I give a sheepish smile. I get scared very easily, they know this, but I'm willing to take one for the team... even if it means I won't sleep for a few da-weeks. "Yes, let's go see It 2" I say in a fake enthusiastic tone.

I turn back to the man at the register "um, four for... It 2 please."

___

The theater is completely empty, which makes it about 1099999373783298xs more scary. It's a pretty popular movie so the rows of seats absent of people makes it feel like the twilight zone. We look around, deciding to sit in the far back.

I see Peter hanging back, walking slowly behind us. Strategically, I begin to slow my pace; slipping behind MJ to sit beside Peter. If there is anything that will distract me from the killer clown, it's Peter. We enter the row and settled in. And Peter grabs my hand.

#spider man #spider man x y/n #spiderman x oc #peter parker x oc #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spider man fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #mcufam #tom holland #tom holland x reader #ned leeds #michelle jones #mj watson #high school #roadtrip #eventual romance #peter parker smut #slow burn #friends to lovers #divorce #surfing #california #tony stark #pepper potts #the avengers

[acciopietro]

i’m sorry this is kinda lengthy but basically peter is a huge simp for reader but he’s scared to put her in danger bc he’s spider-man but some villains find out he likes reader anyway so they attack her but he’s nearby and rushed to help her only to see that her take them out and finds out that’s she’s an underground hero so he confronts her later and it’s super fluffy and cute

silk - p.p.

pairing: th! peter parker x fem! reader

summary: in which peter’s school crush is not what she seems.

word count: 5,030

tw: mentions of abusive relationships and violence.

a/n: i hope you don’t mind i changed up the plot just a little bit!! same idea basically but just slightly different. im in a bit of a writing slump so i hope you dont mind i used ur request to try and get my creative thinking back up and running LOL. i never know what to do when making reader a superhero so i just made Y/N like silk from the comics. if you don’t know who she is, google her! she’s awesome! thanks for the request <3 BTW this is not edited bc im lazy

PETER LIKED TO THINK HE WAS SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW WHEN TO GIVE UP. He was an Avenger, for gods sake; if he could fight someone like Thanos, then he could accurately gage when it was time to take a step back and admit that not all battles could be won. Even if he was willing to fight until his last breath.

He had liked Y/N for a while. Longer than he’d ever admit to anyone else, even Aunt May or Ned. Since before he became Spider-Man, she had caught his eye, but Peter had always been a bit too nervous to approach her. He had gotten lucky when his schedule lined up with hers for his Junior year, having five out of his seven classes with her. The only issue, however, was her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend was no match for Peter. Peter might be Spider-Man undercover, but in the daylight of his high school career, he was... kind of a loser. Y/N’s boyfriend, James, was six-foot-three and Captain of the wrestling team, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw. Peter, on the other hand, was a measly five-foot-nine and often compared himself to looking like a toddler. Aunt May said otherwise, but that didn’t change anything.

“Hey, Pete,” she smiled at him, the apples of her cheeks round as she slid into the seat in front of him. She was the only one who called her ‘Pete,’ with the exception of Aunt May. Having so many shared classes had brought forth the closest thing he could get to being hers: an in-school friendship.

“Hi,” he pursed his lips into a smile, lifting a hand up in a meek wave. Fiddling with his pencil where it hovered above his graph paper, he eyed her and said, “I, uh— I like your shoes.”

“Oh, really?” she glanced down at the black-and-white skate shoes. “I was iffy about wearing them, ‘cause they kind of make me feet look like squares, don’tcha think?”

Peter peered back down at the shoes and cracked a small grin. “Maybe a little bit. But it’s not bad, I think they’re cool.”

“Thanks!” Y/N leaned down to unzip her backpack, taking out the notebook of graph paper with a series of messy scribbles along the margins. She flipped it open, turned in her chair to face him. “Okay, so I’m assuming you did the homework? I seriously have no idea how to do this, and I figured you did.”

“Oh, yeah — yeah, I — I did the homework,” Peter nodded fervently, leaning forward over his desk so he could see her notebook. She placed it on the top of his desk, fully facing him, and pointed to the second problem on the sheet.

“So I used SOH-CAH-TOA to find this angle, but then I guess I messed it up somewhere along here....” she continued talking, explaining the process of her attempt at solving the calculus problem. Peter listened intently to her words, all while staring at the different flecks of color in her e/c eyes and losing himself the way she bit the inside of her cheek in between sentences. “Peter?”

“Yeah?” he snapped out of it. She was smiling at him and oh, shit, he hadn’t heard the second half of what she was saying.

“So do you think you could help?” she asked. Her eyes shifted over towards the clock on the front wall. “‘Cause we got like three minutes until the period officially starts and I seriously need a good grade.”

“Yeah, of course,” Peter gulped and grabbed his calculator, focusing his eyes on the graph paper and began copying down the equation from his own notebook. It was dreadfully difficult to keep his focus with her leaning so close to him, her perfume flooding into his brain and fogging up his mind. He scribbled down the solution as fast as you can.

“Oh, duh!” she slumped her shoulders. “I guess I multiplied wrong. I always screw up simple math.”

“No, you did it right the first time,” Peter gently smiled at her, careful not to keep eye contact for too long. “Just a little mess up in the middle. But all the other math was, uhm... spot on.”

“Thanks, Pete,” she nodded, tapping her fingers on the spiral spine of her notebook. “I’m really glad that — oh shit!”

She jolted in her spot, a pair of hands coming down to squeeze her shoulders. She turned around and sighed; Peter followed the hands and was disappointed to see James, her boyfriend, standing beside her desk.

“You scared the shit out of me!” she said breathily, one hand flying to rest over her heart. “Jesus!”

“Sorry, babe,” James chuckled, slipping into his spot— which just so happened to be right beside her, diagonal from Peter. “What’s good, Penis Parker?”

Peter felt his ears turn red, and he clenched his jaw, avoiding the other boys eyes and shifting awkwardly in his seat. Y/N abruptly whacked her boyfriend on the arm, suddenly frowning.

“Don’t be a dick,” she said pointedly. James laughed.

“It’s just a joke,” he lifted his hands in defense. “Parker doesn’t care, does he? Do you?”

Peter glanced up, eyes darting between James and Y/N. He only shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/N said, scooting her chair under her desk as soon as she saw the teacher enter the classroom. “It’s still rude and immature and his name is Peter.”

“Okay, chill out,” James muttered. “Hey, you did the homework, right?”

Peter watched Y/N send her boyfriend a very tired expression, her shoulders slouching. “Seriously?"

“What? C’mon, I had practice ‘till late last night,” James frowned. “And you know how much I struggle with Calc.”

Y/N gave another sigh before reluctantly handing him her notebook. Peter watched the exchange with a slight frown, biting his tongue to refrain from saying something about cheating and morality or something equally as stupid. He wasn’t going to tattle. He didn’t want to do that to her, not that he gave a flying fuck about what happened to James.

James wordlessly threw the notebook back to her after a few minutes; she caught it swiftly and spared him another longing sort of glance before bowing her head and facing the front of the room. Peter clenched his jaw and sent a glare towards the back of James’ head; he knew he was a dick, and she knew he was a dick. So why the hell was she dating him?

There was no way in hell that James had some kind of brilliant quality about him that made this kind of treatment worth it. It’s not like he was remarkably thoughtful, or funny, or attractive. He was pleasant looking, sure, but Peter was sure there wasn’t a single redeeming quality about him.

As though he had heard his thoughts, James suddenly turned his head around and was met with Peter’s lingering glare. He narrowed his eyes at him, glanced at Y/N, and then looked back at Peter. Peter fought the urge to bow his head and shy away; he was Spider-Man for fuck’s sake! He could handle some stupid high school asshole, couldn’t he?

Peter frowned the entire walk from class to his locker, where he tiredly turned his lock and swung open the metal door as though the interaction in Calculus had taken a serious toll on him.

“Peter!” came a cheery voice from his right. Leaning back to look over his locker, he saw Ned, grinning. “You look so unhappy to see me. Is there a reason for this, or are you just, like, being moody today?”

“Being moody today,” Peter mumbled. “’Cause of stupid James Lewis.”

“Ah,” Ned said wisely, leaning against the other lockers as Peter slipped out his textbook and closed the metal door. “Yeah, that can really wreck a guys mood.”

“Yeah,” Peter breathed, watching as Y/N approached her locker on the other end of the hall. James followed at her heels, laughing obnoxiously with another boy on the wrestling team and ignoring his girlfriend entirely. Y/N took out her books, clutching them to her chest, and turned to speak to James; Peter watched as she fiddled nervously with her necklace as she waited for her boyfriend to look at her. “Why’s she dating him, man? He’s so awful.”

“I dunno, dude,” Ned shrugged. “Women are the world’s greatest mystery.”

“So are men,” Peter muttered, sending James a final glare before he and Ned turned the other way.

---

EARLY THAT EVENING, just before he left for patrol, Peter’s phone rang. Which was fairly normal, considering Ned called him a million times a day and Aunt May often send him the occasional call on her way home from work. This time, however, startled him, because the name on the call was not Ned, nor was is May. It said Y/N.

“H-Hey, Y/N, hi!” Peter stammered out after pressing the green answer button, steadying his grip on his phone after it had almost slipped from his grasp. “Hello!”

“Hi, Pete,” her voice said, sounding sweet. “Sorry to call you at such a weird time. I—er— had a question about the homework?”

“Oh, yeah!” Peter held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and shot his hand out across his room; a web flung from his wrist and stuck itself onto his Calculus notebook. It soared towards him, and he frantically flipped to the most recent page. “Which one?”

“Uhm, number three.”

Peter scanned the page through the latex of his mask.

“I don’t think we had to do number three tonight,” he answered with an awkwardly laugh. Through the phone, she gave a noise of disapproval.

“Ugh, of course!” she said exasperatedly. “I always copy down the wrong numbers from the board. Thanks for telling me. Sorry to bother you!”

“No, no, you’re not — you’re not a bother!” Peter insisted in a shrill voice, grabbing his mask from the top of his head and tugging it off of his face. “Never a bother!”

With a laugh, she said, “I totally procrastinated my homework... I was totally binge watching all the Spider-Man videos on YouTube. Have you see them?”

Peter coughed rather loudly. “Erm, yeah, a few. Don’t really pay attention to, uh... to Spider-Man...”

“They’re totally awesome,” she gushed, and Peter felt heat flood up into his cheeks. “How do you not pay attention to Spider-Man? I feel like that’s right up your alley.”

“I dunno,” Peter shrugged absentmindedly. “We’ve got tons of Avengers, y’know? Guess I’m just... erm... kinda desensitized to it.”

"I’m kind of a dork about the Avengers, actually,” she said timidly. “I don’t care how many times I see Captain America on the news— I am totally mesmerized each and every time. Same with Spider-Man. I think they’re so cool.”

“...mesmerized?” Peter perked his head up. “Uhm... how so?”

“Thought you didn’t care about Spider-Man?”

Peter pressed his lips together. “I don’t.”

You dismissively waved your hand and said, “Then, I’ll stop. I don’t mean to be geeking out.”

“No, it’s okay!” Peter said hastily. “Really, I don’t mind. I think it’s cool that you think the Avengers are cool. They are cool.”

“But not Spider-Man?”

“I — well — no, Spider-Man is cool, I never said he wasn’t cool,” Peter went on. “But, I’m just saying, like... I dunno. The other Avengers are better. Like... like Iron Man, he’s awesome. Black Widow, she’s... the best.”

“Hm,” she paused. “I think I’ll be her for Halloween. You totally just sparked my imagination, thanks!”

“No problem,” he replied, willing himself not to think about what she might look like in the tight, leather suit that Black Widow wore. There was a beat of silence, and Peter was sure he had started sweating.

“Okay, well... I ought to finish the homework that we actually have to do,” she joked, a smile heard within her words. Peter felt himself grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah— see you!” he said, and with a Click! she was gone. Turning off his phone, he tossed it onto his bed and groaned, putting his head in his hands and frowning. He was way too enthusiastic to say See you!. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his phone again and slipped it into his pocket before grabbing his mask and slipping it over his face; it was time to patrol, not to daydream. Cracking open his window, he was gone.

---

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Peter felt it as soon as he went on patrol for the night. The streets of the city were empty, the night breeze whisking up the dust of the pavement and paving a path for no one. It was unlike Queens to be so quiet at this time of night; even at a quarter past midnight, the city was usually lively, however this night was different.

Mindlessly winging along the sides of the cities skyscrapers, Peter wondered what could be the cause of this weird occurrence. It wasn’t like someone kidnapped and hid away the entire population of Queens... nor was their some kind of alien abduction (he would’ve seen it). Maybe it was a holiday he wasn’t aware of and every happened to go on vacation at the same time. Or maybe—

“Woah!” said a voice, and before his eyes focused back into the world around him, he slammed face first into another figure. He shot a hand up as he flipped upside down, a web sticking onto one of the nearby billboards above, and watched as the mysterious figure slid down the wall before coming to a pause. He blinked. How were they sticking to the wall?

Lowering himself down, he stared at the figure. He might have been watching them from an upside-down point of view, but he could see clearly the web design on their suit. 

“Hi,” he said, tilting his head to the side as though to watch them more clearly. They lifted their head, pushing h/c out of their eyes; they had a red mask over their nose and mouth, e/c eyes blinking up at him. 

The torso of their suit was silver, with a red-and-black web pattern across their chest, however the arms and legs were black with the exception of her fingers, which were painted a bright red. Woah.

“Uhm,” Peter said again. “How’s it hangin’?”

“It’s all right,” the figure said; the voice was feminine, familiar. He felt his stomach jump for a second, as though he knew who it was, but it went away after a moment. “With the exception of you slamming into me.”

“Sorry about that,” Peter lowered himself more and crawled up the single web so he could be right-side up, at her eye-level. “Wasn’t paying attention. Hey, who are you?”

“None of your bees-wax,” she sassed, lifting a hand up. “I gotta go.”

“Woah, woah!” Peter shot out a web to intercept hers, swinging up to follow her. “Hey, c’mon! You know who I am, right?”

“Obviously,” she said, her back to him as she swung away. “Doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

Peter frowned under his mask. “Well, how’re you also SpiderMan? Or... Spider-Woman? Sorry.”

“It’s Silk, actually,” she said exasperatedly. “And I’m what you call also SpiderMan because some nasty insect decided to bite me two days ago.”

“Yesterday?” Peter mused, still following her. “How’re you swinging so well, then?”

“Practice,” she shrugged and came to a stop on a nearby rooftop. “Are you gonna follow me all the way home, or what?”

“Oh, sorry,” Peter launched himself towards her, landing on the same roof. “I’m just... curious. Hey, were you the reason why everyone was gone?”

“Yup. Huge robbery at the edge of the city. Everyone sort of flocked outside when I got ‘em out of the place,” she said, crossing her arms over his chest. Peter stared, eyes trailing over the fine details of her suit. She furrowed her brows. “Hey! Look me in the eyes when I’m talking to you, you creep!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Peter flinched. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t staring at your— I was looking at your suit! It’s really cool.”

“Thanks,” she avoided his eyes and rubbed the side of her head. Peter then noticed she had a bruise forming on her upper cheekbone. “I need to go home, okay?”

“Okay, yeah,” Peter nodded feverishly. “Didn’t mean to keep you.”

“All good, SpiderMan,” she gave him a salute and said, “See you ‘round.”

---

WORD OF SILK had spread faster than Peter anticipated. The next day at school, her name permeated about the hallways, whispers of her trickling around Peter wherever he went. She was the first thing Ned spoke of when Peter saw him that morning, and he was floored to find out Peter had actually met her.

Y/N was not in the calculus classroom when Peter walked in. She usually was there before him, however the seat in front of him remained empty. James, her boyfriend, came in earlier than usual, looking especially cranky. Peter gave him his own glare (which wasn’t very menacing, but he liked to pretend it was) before averting his eyes to his graph paper. 

“The hell are you looking at, Parker?” James barked. Peter shifted his eyes up.

“Nothing,” Peter said.

James scoffed and slumped into his seat, running a hand through his hair before sending a nod of a greeting to the girl who sat on the other side of him. Peter frowned at this, watching as the random girl blushed and sent a wave back. 

Right before the bell rang, as the last kids settled into their seats, Y/N speed-walked in, frantically apologizing to the teacher as she hustled into her seat. Peter sat up straighter, staring to try and meet her eyes, but she slid into her seat without looking up at anyone. 

The teacher, Mr. Bruno, began to teach, and Peter watched as James leaned over to nudge Y/N with the eraser of his pencil. She snapped her head over; her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks flushed red, and her fist was clenched around her pencil.

“Woah,” James whispered. “What happened to you?”

She deeply inhaled through her nose, closing her eyes for a moment. “What do you want?”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” James furrowed his brow. “You did the homework, right?”

“Yes, but I can’t give it to you now,” she whispered. “Mr. Bruno’s teaching, and I’d get in trouble—”

“Oh, come on, Y/N, just slide it over,” James said dismissively. “Won’t hurt you. It’s really not that big of a deal—”

“She said no,” Peter blurted. James whipped his head around, as did Y/N. She blinked at him, e/c eyes shining, and she gave him a pursed-lip smile that said thanks, but you shouldn’t have done that.

“The hell did you just say?” James hissed. “Huh, Penis Parker? You got somethin’ to say?”

“Yeah,” Peter gulped. “She said no. Leave her alone.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” James barked. “This is our business, all right?”

Y/N said nothing, avoiding both of their eyes; she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and Peter saw her chest begin to ride and fall rather quickly. It was then he noticed, as he stared at her, that there was a large bruise on the side of her cheek. Oh god, Peter thought. He’s hitting her.

“You shouldn’t speak to your girlfriend that way,” Peter muttered, turning back to face the whiteboard, copying down the notes that Mr. Bruno had written. “It’s disrespectful.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m going to take your relationship advice, Parker,” James scoffed, shaking his head. “No girl could ever date you, man.”

“Quit being a dick, James!” Y/N said rather loudly, to which Mr. Bruno finally turned around and set his eyes on her. The classroom fell silent.

“Ms. L/N, please don’t use that kind of language in my classroom,” he said gently, to which Y/N melted into her chair and nodded her head.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, casting her eyes down. She didn’t speak for the rest of the class, ignoring glares she received from James. She didn’t even turn around when they were told to work independently. Peter prayed she wouldn’t pay for his actions.

“Hey,” he said to her as soon as the bell rang, reaching over to touch her shoulder. She jumped back, eyes wide, before her shoulders deflating at the sight of him.

“Oh, sorry, Pete,” she said, her voice tired. Her eyes were still bloodshot and glistening, and he stared at her gently with concern. “Scared me.”

“Wait here for a sec,” he told her, watching as James threw his bag over his shoulder. She gave him a look. “Please?”

“Y/N, c’mon,” James beckoned her. Y/N spared Peter a look before she turned and said.

“I’ll catch up,” she said carefully. “I gotta talk to Pete.”

James glanced in between them cynically, before his malicious glare settled on Peter. He clenched his jaw and said, “Fine,” before stomping out of the classroom.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked Y/N once James was out of earshot.

“I’m just tired, I promise,” she assured him. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“You’re all flushed. And your face is bruised...” Peter lifted a hand up absentmindedly as though to graze the bruise with his knuckle, but he snapped his hand back down to his side when he realized what he was doing. Glancing back at the door, where James had disappeared, Peter said, “Look, if somethings wrong... if you’re not safe...”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “Safe? I’m plenty safe, I promise. What is this about?”

“James,” Peter said. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, but... he kind of treats you like shit, Y/N.”

“I — he’s just...” she gulped. “He gets angry. I know it’s not good, but...”

She clenched her jaw and glanced feverishly behind Peter. 

“It’s not like I can just dump him and have everything be all rainbows and sunshine, okay?” her shoulders tensed. “He’s my first boyfriend, I... I can’t just dump him.”

Peter frowned and glanced down at her bruised cheek. “But he’s...”

Y/N lifted a hand to touch her bruise, and with a faint smile she said, “I know what you’re thinking. He didn’t hit me, Pete.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Peter pressed further. Y/N furrowed her brows. “You can tell me. I can help you—”

“It’s not from him, Peter!” she insisted and threw her backpack over her shoulder, however it accidentally whacked her water bottle than had been sitting on the corner of the desk. 

Peter, the hairs on his arms raising, lunged forward to grab it, however his fingers bumped right into hers. Lifting his eyes up, he saw that she had caught the bottle before he had. How...? he couldn’t finish the thought. She pursed her lips and turned to tuck the water bottle into the side pocket of her bag. 

“Don’t worry about me, Peter,” she said hastily without looking at him, her hand not leaving the water bottle on the side of her backpack. 

She shook her wrist around as though to try and take her fingers off the bottle, however her hand stayed put. Peter watched intently. Y/N finally settled on taking the bottle out and holding it in front of her. 

“I’m fine,” she told him firmly. “Erm — see you.”

And she circling around him without another word, starting towards the door. Peter hastily turned to grab his own bag in an attempt to rush after her.

“Wait, you left your—!” Peter picked up her pencil and turned around, but she was already gone. Sighing, he moved to put the pencil down, but something caught him off guard; a strand of a spider web wrapped around the eraser like a cocoon. His head snapped up.

No fucking way. 

---

DESPITE HAVING A good amount of classes with her, Y/N seemed to keep slipping out of his grasp again and again throughout the day. She ignored the notes he kept asking Ned to give her in History, pretending like she didn’t see him staring at her in English, speed-walking away from him in the cafeteria. Peter was sure he’d have to web her to keep her in one place just so he could talk to her.

By the sound of the final bell, Peter raced out of his last class (Physics) and practically sprinted to his locker before pushing his way down the stairwell in an attempt to reach the main entrance to the school to find Y/N. She parked her car on the side of the building, and although Peter walked the other way to catch his bus home, he decided to walk to her car. But when he reached her car, and she wasn’t there, he realized how creepy he probably seemed.

“Pete?” he heard his name, and he grimaced before turning around. Y/N was standing on the sidewalk, books hugged to her chest.

“Hey,” he dragged out, tensing his shoulders. “Uhm. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed, walking around the other side of the car to drop her backpack and books onto the passenger seat. “What... erm... what’re you doing at my car?”

“Well, that’s... it’s...” Peter pursed his lips. Digging into his pocket, he took out her web-wrapped pencil. Her brows twitched. “I found this.”

“Thanks,” she reached out and grabbed it from him. “I was looking for it.”

“No, that’s... look at the end of it,” Peter said. At this, she furrowed her brows in confusion and glanced down at the eraser, covered in silk. She clenched her jaw and said nothing. “I... you can tell me, y’know.”

“Tell you what?” she said, putting her pencil back in her pocket. Peter opened his mouth wordlessly. “What’s up with you and your accusations today?”

“Okay, in my defense, it’s kind of hard to not thing you’ve got an abusive boyfriend when he treats you — and everyone else, might I add! — like shit all the time, every day.”

“I — he doesn’t —”

“So when you come into class looking like you’re about to cry, and with a bad bruise on the side of your cheek, excuse me for being just a little bit concerned!” Peter blurted. Y/N stared at him wordlessly. “And now there’s spider-web wrapped around your pencil. And the whole school is talking about this mysterious spider-woman—”

“She’s not a Spider-Woman,” Y/N muttered, brushing past Peter and opening the door to the driver’s seat. “Her names’ Silk.”

“Proving my point!” Peter threw his arms up. “I know it’s you! Silk said the same thing!”

At this, Y/N squinted and peered at him oddly. “What do you mean Silk said the same thing? Have you met her?”

Peter opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment. “I — that’s — no! Of course I haven’t! When — when would I have —?”

“Ah, okay,” Y/N suddenly smirked. “Why don’t you tell me what your deal is, then? I know it’s you!”

Peter clenched his jaw. “What... don’t turn this on me! This is about you!”

“You just made it about you,” Y/N stepped forward to him, and lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, “Spider-Man.”

Peter flushed and jumped back. “No! No, that’s — I don’t know where you’re getting that from! Look at me, I can’t be — I could never be — look at me! I don’t even—”

Y/N suddenly threw her phone out towards the ground at Peter’s feet. Cutting off his ramble, he struck his hand out nonchalantly and catch the phone. Handing it back to her, he continued, “Careful with that. But, anyways, it’s not me!”

“You just caught that in less than a second,” Y/N deadpanned. “If you’re honest with me, I’ll be honest with you.”

Peter stared at her for a moment, unsure. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he squinted and said, “You first.”

Sighing, she rolled her eyes and said, “Okay. You’re right.”

“Ha!” Peter pumped a fist in the air. “Knew it!”

“Now you.”

He frowned and took a deep breath. “You... I... you can’t tell anyone.”

She suddenly beamed. “Y’know, I thought there was something suspiciously charming about Spider-Man.”

Red-faced, Peter said, “Charming?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shrugged sheepishly, her face tinged pink. “Look, I... James is...” she sighed. “I broke up with him. Right after last period.”

Peter’s face lit up.

“But... it’s not all sunshine and roses now,” she muttered. “He made a big stink about it and now he won’t stop calling me, and... he just... he scares me a bit.”

He frowned and took a step closer to her, leaning against the side of the car to face her. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Thanks," she said half-heartedly.

“I’m serious,” Peter said, bowing his head slightly and staring down at her. “He might be a wrestler or whatever he is, but I’m literally a superhero.”

She snickered.

“What?”

“Nothing, it just sounds funny,” she giggled and glanced away, her cheeks still pink. “I appreciate it, Pete. Really.”

She was closer to him than he had anticipated, her sweet-smelling perfume flooding his sensing and ensnaring him in his place. He swallowed, his hands twitching at his sides as he felt an invisible force push him closer, faces leaning in.  

“Hey!” came a voice from their side. An old woman, standing by the door of her house nearby Y/N’s car was parked. “You can’t stay parked there all afternoon, y’hear!”

“Sorry, ma’am!” Y/N called back, giggling. Peter laughed as well, ducking his head and running a hand through his hair bashfully. “Looks like we should move.”

“Yeah,” was all Peter could find it in him to say. She grinned and glanced to her side again. Peter followed her eyes, noticing that she was watching the old woman walk back into her house. “What should —!”

Y/N had shot her hand out, a web flying from her wrist and sticking to his side to pull him in and press her lips to his. It was hasty, the kiss, and just as she pulled away, she beamed and slid into the driver’s seat.

“You want a ride, or what?”

---

a/n: okay i kind of love this a lot. its cute. 

taglist: @childishnewt @niallhoransupremacy @criesinlies @fairydxll @mcximffs @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty @julster

#peter parker #peterparker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman no way home #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #ned leeds #michelle jones #marvel #MCU #MCU fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland spiderman

[spicysagittarius]

NEW FIC!!

ao3 link below, & here’s a preview :)

[RATED E]

“Do…do you want me to call Felicia?” MJ asks him, clearly panicking.

He nods slowly, then shakes his head. A few seconds later, he nods again. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Peter, she’s basically your girlfriend,” she replies incredulously. “She can help you. That’s how this works, right?”

He groans, hand over his cock, eyes trained on her figure. Thankfully, she hasn’t caught on to his probably perverted stare yet. Or she’s pretending she hasn’t.

“I’m, uh…I’m gonna call her, okay?” MJ speeds out of the room, leaving him to stare at the empty doorway. Maybe, if he wasn’t drugged with a fucking sex pollen, he’d want Felicia here, or at least feel guilty for not only not wanting her here but also for envisioning MJ pretty and disheveled underneath him on his bed.

#lol #my writing #petermj #spideychelle #petermj fic #peter parker x michelle jones #petermj smut #spideychelle fic #thirst hours #spideychelle smut #tom holland #zendaya

[slut-for-zendaya]

intimate awkward

this is a spideychelle one-shot and i am so incredibly sorry for not posting anything for that long and please send requests ================================================Peter was kissing her. MJ pressed against him. Her backpack was on the floor, Peter still had his on. Her jeans felt tight, her stupid underwear was kind of giving her a wedgie. Her skin felt too tight. But in a good way. Peter pressed her closer to the wall. It was really good.

It was a very deserted hallway in their school. They were at school. Peter put his hands on the wall, on either side of her head. Peter was so strong, though. It was a little scary, not in a good way. She was boxed in. Even if Peter would never. She reached for his bicep, her fingers digging in.

He was smart, too. He put his arm down and his one hand behind his back. That was hot. He was warm, warm against her. He kissed along her jaw. She grabbed at his hair. She pushed against him. He was making this low noise, like, primal. MJ shifted her hips up. That was definitely -- she was feeling his penis. She wanted to. Right now.

Peter stepped back. She said, "Yeah. Yup. We should not make out in school."

"Yeah," Peter said. "That's a bad idea. Right?"

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, good thing we both realized that. I was almost ready to go pretty far."

"Yeah?" He took her hand and waited for her to pick up her backpack. "Pretty far?"

"We're not having sex at Midtown," MJ said.

"Nooo," Peter said. He squeezed her hand a little painfully before he relaxed. "No, we aren't."

"I bet you don't, you don't have one of those stupid condoms in your wallet, do you? That's so cliche. And then it breaks and we're having a baby! Except why we're having a baby when abortion is still legal, I never get that," she said. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"Yeah," Peter said. "I don't have a condom in my wallet. I don't. So I guess I'd get you pregnant because we were unprepared."

"Why would we still have sex if we didn't have a condom?" They were already outside the school, walking towards the subway. "I guess if we were still in the school, you could go to the nurse's office. You know they have condoms."

"I think they have them stashed everywhere," Peter said. "But we're not doing, no sex in school, right?"

"Definitely not with how your voice keeps going up," MJ said.

"Sorry, I didn't realize sex was even on the table," Peter said.

"But it's not, no condom," MJ said.

"But if I had one, then we would? There would be a table," Peter said.

"I don't know," MJ said. They got on the train. "Sorry if I'm being a sex freak."

"Noooo," Peter said. "No."

"I'm being weird," MJ said.

"Yeah," Peter said. "But I love that. I like that about you." He gripped her thigh. "You're awesome."

"You, too," she said.

A few days later they were in his room, on his bottom bunk bed. She liked that he seemed happy she was on top of him. She liked kissing him. He ran his hands up and down her sides. She'd thought maybe his hands would feel weird. Because of Spider-man. But he felt normal to her. He kept pushing up her shirt and then it would fall down. She sat up and took off her shirt.

He said, "Pretty." He traced the lace edge of her bralette. "I don't know why I was picturing something in grey, no lace or pictures."

"You have very dull fantasies of me," she said.

"No, no," Peter said. He smiled and shifted under her. He was erect again.

She shifted back and put her flat palm on him, where his penis was. He groaned a little. He said, "Hey, hey, I don't want to, um."

"Sorry, sorry," she said as she moved back and sat between his legs.

"No, no, I liked that, I'm good with that, I just, um, I don't want to, um --"

"Come?" She smiled. "Why not?"

He laughed. "Well, like, right now, I've got my jeans on, it would be a mess."

MJ said, "We can, we can fix that. I don't mind."

"I'm, I'm okay with that," Peter said. He reached down and started undoing his jeans. She pushed his hands away and unbuttoned and pulled down the zipper. MJ tugged his jeans down to around his knees and then quietly did the same with his grey underwear. Then she scooted forward and sat on his bare legs.

"Huh," she said. First penis up close and personal. She went to touch him, her hand just barely on him. He shook a little and stared up at the bottom of the top bunk. "Still okay? Am I doing something wrong?"

"Nope, no, no," Peter said. "I just haven't, you know --"

"Oh," she said. "With people around. I can't believe you haven't been to any orgies."

He propped himself up on his elbows. His t-shirt was riding up on his fantastic abs. He said, "Yeah. No orgies." He reached under the bed and handed her some paper tissue.

"Do I use this to touch you?"

"No, no, like, for after," he said. His face was so red.

"Yup," she said. "Yeah, got it. Wait, do I need, like, something? Isn't there a, jokes about lotion? Are those real?"

"Are your hands dry?" Peter was biting his bottom lip. "Like when you jerk off, um, masturbate --"

She looked down at her hands. "This will be less awkward after we actually do it, I think."

"Can't be more," he said.

Then they were both sort of giggling. She licked her hand a few times and lightly held his penis. Peter arched up into her hand. She said, "Not too hard, right? I mean, me. No squeezing. I did some, uh, I read some stuff."

"Yup," he said. "All good."

She figured out what he liked, did what he liked. He grunted when he came and she remembered the paper tissue so everything didn't go everywhere. He was breathing very deeply for a full minute. "That was nice," he said.

She said, "Is May coming back soon?"

"Yeah," he said. They went to the bathroom and she washed her hands and then left him to his whatever after.

She sat on the couch and looked at her hands. It felt good. She felt good. She'd made him come. She really wanted to sketch his penis. Peter sat down next to her. "Hey," he said. He put his arm around her. She snuggled in.

MJ said, "Next time I'll get naked, but, like, I know you watch porn and I'm telling you now that is not how mine looks. I'm sixteen, I don't shave or get waxes."

"I don't watch porn," Peter said. "I told you I rented one, when I was in Germany. And I've seen some, you know."

"Yeah, I love to imagine you masturbating in some huge hotel room, watching weird German porn," she said. She smiled a little.

Peter shifted a little on the couch. "It wasn't weird. It was just two, three people having sex. Not in a dungeon or anything. In a room. And another room. And the two women, they were, um. They weren't super skinny with huge breasts. They had, um, more, like, they weren't super skinny."

MJ laughed. "It's not a triumph of body positivity or feminism, or whatever that the porn you watched had white women who weren't, like, less average body types."

Peter said, "I know. I'm just saying it wasn't weird. They just had sex. The three of them."

"I'm so proud of you," MJ said, laughing again.

"I'm much more excited about being with you," he said, quietly.

"Of course, I'm hot and right here."

He said, "That's really all." He rubbed her thigh. "This feels less awkward."

"Totally," she said. "Still awkward, but less."

Peter said, "It's the two of us, we're never going to reach awkward zero. I like that." He hugged her closer and kissed her. It was pretty great.

#spideychelle #michelle jones #peter x mj #peter x reader #peter parker #mj x reader #mj x y/n #mj x peter #zendaya x you #zendaya x y/n #zendaya x reader #zendaya #tom holland #tom holland x zendaya #tom holland x fem #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #fluff #smut #spider man no way home #mcu spiderman #spiderman

[sodafizzyart]

Peters a freelance photographer and MJ just moved back and is modeling to make some extra cash (rents expensive). Peter really planned to never see MJ again, and even did his best to not form relationships past friendship. Too bad for Peter though, once running into MJ again, she will (and does) figure him out.

#Spider-Man #spiderman #michelle jones #michelle jones watson #peter parker #mcu #petermj #spideychelle #Peter will fall in love all over again bc MJ just got better with their time apart #and MJ will still fall in love with Peter bc he’s a kind boy #if I could write it would be a long fic that’s well paced with tension #a nice sprinkle of smut #little to no angst #and would have a HAPPY ending bc I’m not a sad person

[hotidiotsummer]

What’s up, sluts! It’s the most wonderful time of year again! That’s right! Hot Girl Summer of 2022 is here. You know the drill. Once again utilizing thorough research strategies such as excluding any tag that did not directly involve Peter and MJ, and scrolling very quickly on each page, we found that this year, there are 313 explicit fics. That’s 116 more than last year! Great work everyone! Round of applause! Pat yourselves on the back. You’ve earned it, champ.

(Note: while we are aware of the existence of fics with the M rating that contain some smut, our research exclusively focuses on fics that are rated E).

Still, we feel as though there can be even more. 

And once again, we present our solution:

HOT IDIOT SUMMER 2022

The collection of Spideychelle works centered around thotty activities is back, babey! Just like last year, it will be open from June 1st to August 31st. 

Housekeeping Items:

No prompts. Only vibes.

There will be no dedicated prompts or days. Write whatever you want, whenever you want!

If you need some inspiration, here are a few lists that can help!

100 Smut Dialogue Prompts

Smut Prompt List

Kink Prompt List

Smutty Prompts

Sentence Starts. Flirty/Suggestive/NS*W Edition

Starting June 1st (yes, we know that’s not the first day of Summer, but Hot Girl Summer isn’t about when you start) post on Tumblr and/or to the collection on AO3.

Make sure to tag us so that we can reblog your work!

We know that there are other events this summer. Explicit works you make for those can be added to our collection!

So what exactly can we do?

Lots! Writing (drabbles, blurbs, three sentence fics, full-blown 100k slow-burn friends to lovers if that’s your vibe, etc.) and art on any medium (moodboards, sketches, digital art, animation, etc., as long as it follows our guidelines).

Any Rules?

Non-con/dub-con are strictly prohibited.

NO RACISM, SEXISM, HOMOPHOBIA, PEDOPHILIA, OR AGE-INAPPROPRIATE SHIPS

If there are any issues that you see, don’t hesitate to communicate with us!

REMEMBER: Tags are very important.

Not everyone has the same interests and experiences. Please include necessary trigger warnings.

We reserve the right to deny any creations that we feel can cause harm.

If there is any question as to whether or not you should tag something, feel free to reach out, but the safest bet is to just tag it.

This is a strictly Spideychelle collection, however threesomes (lol) and more are more than welcome as long as they follow the rules above.

Link to Collection

In further research, we hope this resolution increases our data for the Spideychelle tag. Thank you for your time.

#spideychelle #petermj #peter parker/mj watson #peter parker/michelle jones #peter parker/michelle jones-watson #peter parker #mj watson #michelle jones #michelle jones-watson #peter x mj #hot idiot summer #hot idiot summer 2022 #spidey #ffh #nwh #hoco #spiderman #smut prompts

[simplyparker]

Hello, can you do a nsfw alphabet with MJ x fem reader?

Michelle Jones NSFW Alphabet

Mind you guys, these are headcannons!  Sorta explicit stuff below...

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

MJ loves cuddling you and loves when you run your fingers through her hair after she cleans the two of you up.

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

She loves your thighs. She loves being in between them, and she goes crazy when you squeeze her head with them.

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

She loves making you cum so much that you soak the sheets and blankets under you. Yeah you may make her do the laundry after, but she thinks it's worth it

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

MJ used to feel really guilty when she would get off to the thought of you before you both started dating. But whenever should think about someone else, she couldn’t cum as hard as she does/did when she thinks/thought about you.

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

MJ has had two other girlfriends before you, but only had sex with one of them. She knows what she’s doing, but you both are always learning together

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

69 but you have to be on top. She loves pulling you down by your thighs and making you sit in her face, even though you’re scared you’re going to hurt her.

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

MJ lives to make you smile. She told you that on your 2nd date. She tries to be serious with you, but is always so comfortable, she just acts like herself 24/7

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

Her pubes are brown and curly, and she keeps them trimmed. She got them waxed once and hated it, so she just sticks with keeping them trimmed.

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

MJ is a secret romantic. She likes to plan amazing dates beforehand and make you feel like you’re the only girl in the world.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Like I said, MJ cums 10x harder when she makes a fantasy about you up in her imagination.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

She loves to overstimulate you. You told her you definitely think she has a dumbifaction kink, but she denies it every time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the deed)

MJ really doesn’t care for PDA and will even make fun of couples who are all over each other in public places, so she prefers one of your guys’ beds, or anywhere in the comfort of her own apartment.

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

When you kiss her neck, it’s over.

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

MJ is very open to experimenting, but will not have anything to do with pet play, or age play.

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

Giver, need I say more?

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

Depends on what she’s doing. MJ can be really rough, fucking you with her strap, or making you ride it.

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

She likes to take her time with you. Drag out orgasm after orgasm, and make you squirm.

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

MJ loves experimenting and is open to really anything. You both are 100% able to say no and you guys will skip it and do something else.

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

She can go for as long as you want. If you’re super needy and just need more and more, then she's up for whatever.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) MJ has two strap-ons, a few dildos, and three vibrators. She also has handcuffs and blindfolds.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You guys have some college courses together, and sometimes you will sit next to each other. MJ’s hand will be securely on your thigh, and if you’re wearing a skirt she’ll act like she’s going to do something, and just doesn’t. Leaving you hot and bothered.

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

She’s not really loud. If you are going down on her, of fucking her, she more just gasps and whimpers instead of moaning.

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

MJ likes when you handcuff her hands behind her back and overstimulate her with a vibrator as high as it can go. She’s not submissive most of the time, but when she is you have a ball.

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

(idk what to do for this one lmfao)

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

Some days it's higher than others. It depends on how she's feeling and what's going on around her.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

She struggles to fall asleep super quickly after, but once she does fall asleep she’s out like a light.

#KierstinWritesShit #MJ x fem!reader #MJ x fem!reader smut #MJ x fem!reader fluff #MJ x fem!reader angst #MJ x fem!reader lime #Michelle Jones x fem!reader #Michelle Jones x fem!reader smut #Michelle Jones x fem!reader fluff #Michelle Jones x fem!reader angst w #Michelle Jones x fem!reader lime #pride fanfiction #lgbtq #Marvel Fanfiction #lgbtqia #queer

[nebulaafterdark]

Michelle Jones NSFW Alphabet

18+ Only, Minors DNI

A = Aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

Michelle is so sweet after sex, especially if you’ve tried something new. She will kiss and cuddle you until you fall asleep.

B= Body part (their favorite of theirs and yours)

She loves her hands, specifically her fingers and all the wonderful things they can do to you. She thinks you have the most amazing lips, she loves to look at them, and kiss them, and…other things.

C= Cum (anything to do with cum)

The first time you made Michelle cum she almost passed out. She loves making you cum, sometimes until you cry.

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

Michelle used to check you out between classes and purposely walk behind you in the hallway… for reasons.

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

You’re Michelle’s first, but she’s eager to learn and always aims to please.

F= Favorite Position (self explanatory)

MJ really likes being on top and she looks beautiful up there. You have no complaints.

G= Goofy (are they goofy or serious in the moment?)

9 times out of 10 Michelle is cracking jokes. But if she’s serious, you’re gonna be sore after.

H= Hair (how well are they groomed?)

MJ likes to switch up on you. You never know what you’re gonna get, but she’s always clean and good enough to eat.

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

Michelle is very soft and sweet. She whispers her love for you on repeat as nips little love bites into your skin.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

Sometimes when MJ can’t stop thinking about you and you’re unavailable, she slips her hand into her pants and imagines they’re yours. She cums harder when she thinks of you.

K= Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Michelle has a huge praise kink and she also enjoys edging you until you beg.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

She likes the bed of course, or the couch, of the shower. One time you sneak into the bathroom stall at M.I.T. between classes. Not the ideal location, but one you’ll never forget.

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

You, duh. She literally can’t get enough.

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

Michelle is pretty open to anything, but she’d never want to hurt, hurt you. An occasional spanking is already though.

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

Michelle loves to give, sometimes for hours on end, and damn is she good at it. The first time you go down on her she decides that’s pretty great too though.

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

Slow, sensual, lots of kissing. She wants you to remember every detail.

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

Michelle doesn’t hate quickies, she actually loved that one in the M.I.T. bathroom. But prefers to take her time.

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

MJ loves to experiment, sharing everything with you is at the top of her priority list.

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

She can go for a LONG time, powered only by coffee and her love for you.

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

Michelle’s favorite invention in this world is her vibrator, followed closely by strap ons. She loves using both.

U= Unfair (how much do they tease?)

She loves to tease you. To whisper things when she knows you can’t do a thing about them, only to make good on her promises when you get home.

V= Volume (how loud are they?)

MJ gets very loud and vocal. She’s not afraid to tell you what she wants. You love pulling new sounds from her.

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

MJ likes her hair pulled, only by you.

X = X-Ray

Michelle is practically perfect in every way.

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

Just depends, generally speaking the two of you go at it like rabbits. But she likes the feeling of being close to you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes you talk, other times she’s asleep before her head hits the pillow.

#MJ #michelle jones #Michelle jones smut #mj smut #mj x y/n #mj x reader #michelle jones x reader #michelle jones x you

[xoluvx]

sexcapades; masterlist

𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 ♡

𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛

tell me what it's like

𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚝

better than a dream

#peter parker #tom holland #zendaya #michelle jones #rue bennett #nathan drake #maddy perez #smut #oneshots #sexcapades

[hwaightme]

Bang bang

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR STAR'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

⚫ pairing: gangster/mafia!seonghwa x stripper/afab!reader ⚫ genre: smut, mafia!au, noir, ganster film style, bits of angst ⚫ summary: Bang bang, he shot me down / Bang bang, I hit the ground / Bang bang, that awful sound / Bang bang, my baby shot me down... the words never sounded truer as you hunt for the man who made you fall from grace. ⚫ wordcount: 14.6k ⚫ warnings/tags: barely edited (written in a chaotic flurry), gangsters, murder, guns, blood, attacking, language, strip club, slight objectification, rudeness, bickering and arguing, emotional manipulation, revenge, death [of a side oc], yandere themes, obsessive behaviour, alcohol, money, seonghwa driving expensive cars, betrayal mention... lmk if anything else. ⚫ perma-taglist: @legohwas @doom-fics @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 ⚫ a/n: HAPPY SEONGHWA DAY!!!! May our brightest star be blessed with everything and more <3 (and never venture into what this fic contains lol); much love and appreciation to nora for going unchained over mafia hwa, and for supporting me through the blackout that was the writing process for this fic. Much love, all reblogs, comments, thoughts welcome~

⚫ nsfw tags: hate sex, car sex, fingering (receiving), sub-leaning reader but a hardcore brat, dom-leaning seonghwa but he enjoys the degradation, degradation (whore, slut, cock slut...), pet names and praises (doll, precious angel, darling, baby, sweetheart), a bit of impact play (slapping), orgasm denial, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), blowjob, deepthroating, hair tugging/yanking, manhandling, grinding, spit play, come in mouth/swallowing... whew

⚫ playlist: bang bang (from kill bill) by geek music, showed me (how i fell in love with you) by madison beer, you put a spell on me by austin giorgio, i've got to see you again by norah jones, who do you want by ex habit, woman by emmit fenn, bad drugs by king kavalier, often by the weeknd, chills (dark version) by mickey valen

Bang bang… he shot me down…

You had given up on seeing him again. Searching for him, hellbent on getting the last word. You had been confident that finally, after all this time, your tortured soul could get some rest. That was until your eyes locked with his in a silent duel, that shit-eating grin on his face growing wider as he studied the wounds he had left behind. The invisible scars that were the start of your metamorphosis.

It was not that you had never imagined meeting the fiendish man again – in fact, you swore that it was your only relief: to fantasise about what you would do if you were to physically cross paths somewhere in this forlorn city, and many nights you would wake up in cold sweat after hearing the intoxicating low-toned laughter resonate in your skull. He haunted you and you knew that he was watching your every move like a sadistic predator. As such, the only thing that had driven you out of your madness, the flimsy umbrella that you clung onto amidst your fall from the life you had built and hoped to have, was to wish that one day, you could do the same. And seeing him right there, in front of you, in his tailored suit and jewellery bathed in blood as the spotlights made him look like the devil himself, the notion of hoping returned.

When a strobe light flashed across his faced you saw him lean and whisper something into the ear of one of his goons, evidently excited to having spotted you. After the ever so slightly shorter, but impressively built, undoubtedly a dark-souled man armed to the teeth, surely his bodyguard, nodded a couple of times, and in turn called over one of the waiters to continue the chain only for the latter to shrink and rush off into the backrooms, your nightmare ambled towards the bar. With a quick unbuttoning of his suit jacket, he settled in one of the stools and spun around to face the stage. To face you. Subject you to a mocking scrutiny while you had no choice but to continue dancing.

As he mindlessly took a black card out of his pocket and passed it to the bartender, without sparing a glance behind him, the object pinched between his pointer and middle fingers, you were in your lonesome on the stage, fighting an uphill battle for every coin and paper bill. Spinning in circles like an animal trapped in a cage, clinging to the pole as though it was a thread connecting you to existence itself, even though experience had shown you that in this, you were skilled only in going down. That man who made living seem easy, despite, or perhaps thanks to the darkness from which he was undoubtedly spawned. Your first love, your first heartbreak, your first glimpse into how the world could chew you up and spit you out – life that was a forbidden fruit so beautiful, so tantalising to where through atrocious flavour and agony one would bite through to the rotten centre and willingly lose their senses to keep a piece to themselves.

His eyes tirelessly accompanied your every move as you went through your routine. Grinding against the pole, crawling across the stage as onlookers and perverts – those who you had to call revered guests because they could spend, and spend a lot, ogled you and yelled heinous remarks, you had not felt so humiliated in a long time. The transition to your present career had been a follow up to a series of events that had shut all other doors – you considered yourself lucky that you had even had the chance to catch yourself on these professional branches during your painful descent. And you had to admit, it did pay well. In a couple of months, after you had definitely breached all work hour regulations, you had managed to pay off your fines and numb yourself to your revoked medical licence. Things were looking up, like the heels you wore. Not quite sky-high, but nevertheless, not in the sewers. But now that being sat at the bar, devouring you with his smouldering gaze and using you for cheap amusement, made you feel filthy. With his pristine, clean, supreme ‘I am above you all’ aura, he might as well state that he owned you. Maybe, in a way, he did. Since his ‘company’, or as one would say ‘bunch of organised hoodlums in suits’ behind closed doors, owned this club among many others dotted around the metropolis.

You climbed up, approaching the finale of your performance. Soon you would be able to leave that creature’s gaze and hide in the rank bathrooms until the coast was clear. Even if that meant you had to abandon the bills. Or no, no you would have the time. You had rent to pay, what were you thinking? And you still needed to return the money you borrowed for the funeral, despite you being told that your now ex could be left to rot just fine. The act was more for you anyways – you wanted to prove to yourself that you still knew honour and tradition, regardless of how far you had been swept up by the unforgiving currents of the underworld. So now, to pay for your illusion of honour, you put on a show and flaunted what you had, fuelled by an undercurrent of indescribable disgust.

To the numbing bassline and an addictive beat you went higher and higher, letting the sensuality envelop you once more. If the months that stacked themselves like cash had taught you anything, this passage of time that you had spent nomadic, performing in one club, another, until you ended up in the one where you were now centre stage, it was that professionalism came first. You were surprised to find out just how many of your academic and practical skills had actually been put to good use – well, maybe not things like knowing components of the limbic system but having a steady hand and being able to manoeuvre out of uncomfortable situations in a cool and calculated manner certainly did their wonders. As you performed a high kick hold, and let your toes discreetly push off the ground for more momentum, you were already thinking a couple of steps ahead. The fairy, the floaters transition, you mentally listed and promptly ticked off the items, going from one move to another. It was nothing more than an elaborate ploy to convince those ogling you, some even unceremoniously palming themselves through their trousers, to give you their ‘hard earned cash’. Though, you never wanted to know where exactly that cash came from. It was not your problem, and you were quick enough to realise that it was better to keep your mouth shut and ask less questions. What these men wanted to see was a pretty doll spinning on a pole as if just for them, a fantasy just a couple of steps away from them. Not some amateur interrogator. 

His figure burned into your retinas as you amplified your dramatics, and stole the night for yourself with flair, flipping yourself upside down, only to recover and descend into your final pose. Due to the sweat and the light body highlighter that you had applied to make your features pop, you were an impossibly entrancing vision. A deity of the underworld that just so happened to find it entertaining to grace the local scum with her presence. 

The handsome black-haired man, an enticing, lethal ‘bella donna’ flower continued watching the forbidden apple of his eye. He had finally gotten you within his reach after so many months of playing cat and mouse. You were unbelievably easy to track, never having attempted to hide yourself, but for him to restrain himself for so long and not hunt you down at first opportunity was borderline torturous. Park Seonghwa was never one to wait. If he wanted something, or someone, he got it instantly, handed to him on a platinum platter. But your hatred was like an addictive scent that brought him to an unprecedented high. Each time he had news delivered of you discreetly asking after him at a club, or you trying to frequent an area where he had been spotted, evidently on a mission to do exactly what he was doing to you, it brought Seonghwa an excitement that shook him to the core.

But now that you were here, in his lair, his first club that he had opened, still a junior in the business at the time and coincidentally, still having been in what could be called a relationship with you, he could not resist. His mind had been screaming Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, every hour of the day, and his primal desires grew stronger than ever before. As he inspected the way in which you bent down to take bills from eager hands, coy and purposefully demure so as to attract even more tips, sinful musings clouded him. He could not ignore the curve of your back as you tapped another fowl man’s chin and took what was definitely over his budget right out of his beggarly hands. Seonghwa was tense as he focused on the white dancewear that adorned your body, elegant lace providing a dizzying contrast to the lewd scene as you let another imp paw at your ass as he hooked the waistband of your thong to leave more crisp notes.

The act of a sensational seductress, you practically glided off the stage, the platform heels doing little to diminish your resolve. You were even better than what he could have ever imagined from the stories that his closest allies and bodyguards had relayed to him. And while, San, the man who he had entrusted with observing you particularly closely once news had gotten around that you joined Club Estelle, had expressed your resounding success and renowned desirability on a number of occasions, now that Seonghwa had seen it he was nothing but proud. His masterpiece, his project, his precious little cherub was doing so well. All for him. How could he not grace you with his presence after seeing such a show?

You knew there was no way of escaping the monster, even if you had the ability to turn invisible, so you were not too surprised when you had found the man who had been next to him for the duration of the performance standing in front of you. What you were taken aback by, was how in just a flash, the man’s intimidating aura dissipated to reveal a charming, heart melting smile and twinkling eyes.

“Miss L/N Y/N?” voice equally as sweet, he inquired. Though you had no doubt that his was just airs preceding the request for you to accompany him to his boss.

“Yes. And you are?” remaining amiable, albeit distant, you responded, crossing your arms in a subconsciously protective manner.

“Merely delivering the request for your audience with my chief.”

You motioned for him to accompany you to the back, signalling that you needed to store the cash before any further discussions were made. The sweetheart obliged, and let you take the lead. In your peripherals, you spotted Seonghwa gripping his drink a little too tightly to be indifferent. As questionably possessive as ever, it seemed. Once you and the muscular bodyguard who you discovered was wearing a double holder were behind the curtain that served as a door to a dark corridor, you continued the conversation.

“A request or an order?” 

Absent-mindedly, you checked the quantity of the bills which you had collected - the rest were already waiting for you in the room, courtesy of the waitstaff whom you had actually managed to make something of a deal with: you did not tell anyone about their habit of permanently borrowing beverages from the bar, and they did small errands for you. Maybe this man with cat-like features was in a similar agreement with Seonghwa, though the likelihood of there being blood involved was too high.

“A request that I would definitely advise you to follow.” he insisted, holding open the door to the changing room as you inspected the bucket that had been left for you in the corner, with neatly collected, crisp notes. Your favourite sight as of late.

“If you answer my question.” you threw out while organising the money inside of a sports bag - the storage of your professional life. Once you were done, you shoved the item into your personal locker, sealing it shut and spinning around to face the man again as he beckoned you.

“Kindly, follow me, Miss.”

“Who am I following?” you repeated, desperately curious to know of this man’s identity. Nevertheless, your feet carried you forward, and you yielded to his summons, heading back out into the club.

“Mister Park Seonghwa’s man.”

“Ooh, his man…”

“Right hand man.” he elaborated, making you roll your eyes.

“So no name to pair with such a handsome face?”

The answers were almost automatic. It was not foreign to you to flirt with strangers, since that way you amplified your chances of financial success, but never before did you catch yourself being so passive, even when the intonations were well practised and near identical to what you would normally say. But there was no one, nor nothing, to blame except the hardwired response to the nearing figure of a very specific gangster, on whom your gaze immediately settled as soon as you reached the edge of the prolonged bar counter.

“I believe that Mister Park would not enjoy hearing such words from you.” of course he would not. When did he ever enjoy you complimenting anyone else except him? San steeled himself as he lowered his head, while you let the fingers of your right hand flitter over the counter as you sauntered over to the man who could not even be bothered to approach you himself, despite having evaporated from your life for an unbearable collection of months.

“Then he would not have sent you to fetch me. He should know that I appreciate beauty-” you were testing your luck, uttering the words when within the gangster’s earshot. Thankfully for San, he chose to take the matter into his own hands and, setting aside the glass of cognac with a delicate push, addressed his bodyguard.

“Sannie, is Y/N giving you a tough time?”

Your name sounded precious, meaningful when he said it. Like it had a genuine purpose in this mortal realm. A melodic uttering of simple sounds that drowned out the pulsing beat that zombified the visitors of Club Estelle. Whether that music was on or not made no difference to you - either way, you would only hear Seonghwa. His voice was like a rumbling of an oncoming thunderstorm amidst a nighttime quiet. The rolling growls of heaven’s rage as steel grey clouds stalked across the sky, wrapping the defenceless earth in a catastrophic promise. With nothing but a foggy trepidation in your chest, you slid onto the seat that was to your nightmare’s right, turning to have your back to the bar and rest your elbows behind you on the elevated table. 

“Uh, not at all, sir.” San’s shift in mien was comical. In a flash, he had stepped down from the pedestal of a man who made the demands, to a servant who you struggled to imagine acting a step out of the lines that his boss had drawn out for him. You raised an eyebrow, giving the guard a onceover.

“Sannie?”

“Yes, darling. San. Like a mountain. Isn’t it cute?” Seonghwa interjected again, not letting the man who you were addressing as much as regard you. Apparently, being under his command also meant that you were instantly off limits. How dull.

“Interesting word choice…”

“He is a cutie, though, aren’t you, Sannie?” smirk gracing his lips, Seonghwa teased the cutie, who, judging by the sheer broadness of his shoulders, could probably snap a person in half with his bare hands. Not that the person would complain since the last thing they would see would be that pretty face… but that was besides the point. No one in the mafia was soft and fluffy. And if there had ever been, they had not survived long enough to establish themselves as the sole representative in history. 

“No comment.” 

“See? How fucking adorable,” with an icy tone, Seonghwa concluded. “Now, could you give us some time to speak tête-à-tête?”

“Of course.”

As rapidly as his appearance had been, so was his departure into the lingering crowd. A newbie - even more new to the business than you, was beginning her performance, and had caught the attention of a couple of the regular patrons, and the lewd chatter had picked up considerably. It was apparent, however, that it was not enough to capture the interest of the man in front of you, who shifted his seating to face in your direction, and officially broke open the door into your life once again. Not because you had been tirelessly searching for him. But because he found it beneficial for himself to make himself known to you.

“Greetings and salutations, Y/N, it’s been a while. We have much to catch up on, don’t you think?” you blinked slowly, suppressing a rude scoff. People were still watching you, that much you were aware of. Those were the perks, or the faults with wearing stripper dancewear. You were the fixation of lustful eyes, the cool glass of water that was just out of reach for the hoards of parched scum.

“I have nothing to say to you, Seonghwa.”

“Ah how I missed you saying my name.”

“And I’d rather you keep mine out of your mouth.” a total lie, had you considered your instincts and how your legs had instinctively tilted closer to the brunette, but you were not about to throw away months of fantasising the man’s demise at the first interaction. You had at least some restraint left.

“Only if you can silence me. I know a couple of ways.” he winked, but you pretended not to catch it as you stared down at his hand that was lying on the counter, studying the ornate decal on the fingerless leather glove.

Taking notice of your preoccupation, he tapped his fingers on the surface, making the silver studs that ran down each digit and surrounded the opening on the back of the hand shine in the glimmering lights. You counted the holes that revealed his knuckles, for no reason other than to try shifting focus. You were not opposed to this kind of interaction. Gestures. Hints. Symbols. It was a horrifying craving that started in the abyss that Seonghwa had left in your tarnished soul, an affliction caused and amplified even by the most mundane details. You could feel those same fingers wrapping themselves around your neck, tracing your jawline, making a ghostly descent down your body. A shiver ran down your spine as you tore yourself away from the sight that had turned into a sinful recollection, forcing out a jarring taunt to convince yourself that there were no undertones to Seonghwa’s phrase.

“With a gun?”

He was not buying it. His precious flower, barely dressed and yet graceful to the extent of rivalling divinity, squirming from his mere presence. This was what he had been searching for, all this time that he had denied you contact. You had been a bad girl. Running, thinking you were pure and angelic. He did not want you that way, so he took his time winding you up, making your world collapse so that you would be ready to take the real him. Not the foolish goon that he had been before. You had been so sweet, doting on him and showing him off to your friends. But what he yearned for was the animalistic antagonisation of his very being. The fire in your heart that drove you to a vengeful insanity. Seonghwa’s tongue pushed at the corner of his mouth before running over his bottom lip, disappearing to give way to a smug grin as he noticed your eyes dart to the action. He comprehended your capabilities properly. More than any of those quacks who you had looked up to ever could. Your demons were loud, and yet you had gone to great lengths to suppress them, even when you were the most beautiful like this. The mortal embodiment of Discordia. Truly, the one deity he would worship. The only one who he would continue sacrificing for.

“Ah, that reminds me. Heard about your boyfriend, such a shame really. He was so young…” he pondered out loud, not a single bit apologetic.

“That’s rich coming from the man who put a bullet between his eyes.” you hissed, crossing your arms as a man walked past and openly gawked at your breasts. 

Though that quickly resulted in a not so subtle threat, with Seonghwa leaning back to adjust his jacket, only to reveal the grip of a menacing handgun, tucked away into a leather holster. The visitor, who had purposely slowed his pace, bolted from the spot, giving the gangster one final look before rushing to the other side of the club. As if looking for your praise, or approval, Seonghwa hid the gun from sight once again and gazed at you, softer and more affectionate than before, his eyes transforming to take on more of a doe shape and inducing an uncomfortable pain. When you did not satisfy him, he clicked his tongue and ran his hands over his hair, shorter at the sides and revealing a buzzcut design that had begun to fade with growth. The new style suited him, you decided. Almost too well. It was frustrating.

“Ah, ah, no. Not me. My hands are clean, sweetheart.” he raised them, a hilarious attempt at trying to prove his innocence which you chose to ignore. No matter how obsessively he washed his acts away, blood was more than a rusty red liquid. It was a curse that stained the skin of those who wished to draw it with an eternal permanence, passing from generation to generation until the Earth was saturated with the hue. Ignoring the blatant bullshit, you mused the fate of the man who you had used to fill the void.

“What the fuck did he even do to you guys?”

“Oh you know how it is. Got a taste of success, got a little too greedy… and kaput. Didn’t keep a clean inventory and clean percentages, you see. And I don’t like when things aren’t clean.” you did not have to be brought into the matter any further than that. You certainly did not need to be let in on the fact that your ex was actually one of the best dealers in his district. He was just a little too close to you for Seonghwa’s comfort.

“Sure you don’t. You said the word, what, four times already? That’s why you even launder your money…” you muttered, not noticing how Seonghwa’s elbow slid closer to you until his hand began to play with a lock of your hair.

“Ah, so attentive, counting what I say…” twirling it around his finger, he observed how the myriad of colour from the club’s lights managed to change its shine, and let it fall back into an alluring cascade, “... and not only that, we also do pest control. The last thing we need is lowly vermin poisoning our supply chains and ruining user experience for our end clients, right?”

“I still don’t-”

“Funny how you got involved with him. Of all people. A drug dealer.” it was easy to make you shift focus. One mention of your failed career, and you were gone. So, in a dire situation such as this, Seonghwa would be a fool not to use this fact.

“Guess he was the only one there to actually support me in the shitstorm. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Now, now, no need to thank me, darling, when I did nothing-”

“I was blacklisted, Seonghwa. Do you know what that means?” slamming the counter with your hand, you stood up off the stool and glowered. Oh, how adorable it was when you got so riled up. A darkness flashed across his eyes as he imagined you to be a tiny predator, ready to pounce. How endearing.

“I can try to guess, though something tells me you will provide more details.” he egged you on, enthralled by how you tried to hover over him, but still retained his favourite fragility.

“It means my dreams have gone up a rat’s ass. I wanted to be a nurse, Seonghwa. And yet, as soon as I get to work, the next day after helping you and your stupid goons, I get kicked out and sued.” The only downside that he could see was that he would not be able to have his way with you were all professional and in a dainty nurse’s outfit. Though… he would have had to make some adjustments to the scrubs for that. A few rips here and there would not hurt anybody.

“It really was only basic supplies that you permanently borrowed, and for the greater good at that. I still think the hospital over-exaggerated.” you had been more than benevolent. Overlooking status, background and appearance you had dashed to lend a hand. Seonghwa had counted on you to do that so that he could drag you down closer to himself.

“In the eyes of the law, I am a thief who has gotten away with far too light a punishment.”

“And I see a saviour.” a merciful fucktoy who he had initially simply been playing around with, only to discover that you were so pathetically trusting that he could not help but fall in love.

“Poetic.” you responded sarcastically, raising your eyebrows. Seonghwa was bearing witness to the dissolution of your resistance. As much as you wished you could keep the game up, his charming falsities and unforgivable seduction were a delight that you could not withstand. 

“You know one of those ‘stupid goons’ celebrated his wedding anniversary with his wife two months ago? And then the other sent his daughter to primary school not long ago… Like I said, you made a sacrifice that those bureaucratic little shits, hidden away in offices, would never make. You care for people.”

His hands snaked to your hips, and he pulled you closer to him until you were trapped with his legs on either side of you. Even though physically you were the one looking down, every passing second you felt more and more like a lab experiment or a sample under a microscope. He was dissecting you, tearing you apart and rebuilding you once again so that you would be just right. Just for him. His favourite doll.

“Seems I care for the wrong people.” you alluded to the man in front of you, a shallow, staggered breath escaping you as he gripped a little tighter.

“Do you regret it?” his eyes. Two dark pools which housed your tailored terror, but had to be so lovable. The devil always took on the most beautiful form.

Your silence told him everything he needed to hear. You could have pushed him away, slapped him across the cheek. Hell, you could have told San to get lost - though in that case you would have probably been disposed of and continued your existence as an addition to a faraway landfill. But that was besides the point. Because you were not indifferent. And the boundary between love and hatred was nearly invisible.

“So happy to have you here. At last.” just as he was about to bring you into an embrace, drunk from the elation of your first meeting in what had to have been an eternity, you pressed down on his shoulders, narrowly avoiding the stark white collar of his shirt that was laid over his jacket, and pushed away, hostility written over your features.

“That’s why I bet you are proud of having sold me out.”

“Who said that?” confused, Seonghwa inquired.

“I just know it.”

“And I am asking, who told you that I sold you out?” stuck in what could only be equated to a tug of war, the two of you were challenging each other to ‘try their worst’.

“My e-”

“The druggie. Right. Of course he did. I bet he told you a lot of things.”

“Like how you used me…”

“Uh-huh,” his hands glided up your body until he stood up, and your arms were limp at your sides once more.

“Corrupted me…”

“My love, you’re still an angel,” he cupped your chin and gazed deep into your eyes, noting that it was as if you were reciting something that you had practised time and time again in front of a mirror until it made no more sense to you than white noise.

“Then betrayed me…”

“Something I would not do under any circumstance. You know what family honour is.” Seonghwa did not betray. He acted in ways that benefited him. And if it just so happened to leave others hurt, it was their fault for caring so much.

“Family. What the hell do you know about family?” you were seething. He was burning you. Again, and again, and again. And you were readily giving in every single time.

“Certainly more than you. Oh sweetheart, I know how lonely you have been-” he wanted to comfort you, even if that made him nauseous, but thankfully, you were not in the mood and stepped away, making him let go of you.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I only want to-”

“I said. Don’t. Seonghwa. Look. I- I hate you. Okay?” music to his ears. How you desperately tried to get away from him and from your own feelings. Scared little pet.

“Are you trying to convince yourself?” the phrase echoed within you as you took another step backwards, realising too late that you had let him wrap himself around you like a hungry python. You needed out. This was it. Final. You needed some air. Or better, to return home, climb into bed, and pretend this never happened. Future you could handle this problem, present you was irrational, risk-seeking and a harm to the self.

“N-no. I. I need to go.”

“You know you can’t.” Seonghwa whispered out loud as he watched your determined departure, right up until you were behind that heavy velvet curtain. 

He picked up his glass and studied the clear, russet contents, and let the liquid slosh around to take in the aroma. With a quick sip, he was back to his usual self, and the smile that was on his face was instantly erased. Bored, the dangerous man leaned against the counter with the weight of his body, imitating your earlier posture and commanded:

“San, I know you’re lurking, come here.” Indeed, in a matter of seconds, his bodyguard appeared from behind one of the pillars that was located closer to the kitchen.

“Yes, sir?”

“You see that man over there?” raising his glass, Seonghwa pointed in the direction of one of the very dedicated hounds who was by the stage. He had been particularly involved in your act, and from the moment Seonghwa had first noticed him, to the very last moment that you were up there, the tipsy man had probably dropped at least a couple thousand dollars’ worth of cash. He was the perfect candidate for the gangster’s plan.

“The one in the green hoodie?”

“Yes, that sleazy bastard. How about we cast him as the bad guy, huh? Payment upfront.” San nodded. The method was simple, and had shown tremendous success in the past. He hummed in agreement, waiting for Seonghwa to add his usual:

“Temporarily, of course. All in good fun.”

“Understood. What should I lay over?”

“That a certain Y/N is particularly ravishing after her performances, and will be at the back exit in about twenty minutes.”

Bang bang, I hit the ground…

Maybe what that gangster had said was true, and that you were too good for the ‘overworld’. It was an attractive thought. Perhaps after the doors to the medical field and consequently a wide range of other careers you had considered had been shut, due to your newfound, albeit light, but nevertheless a serious enough criminal record, you ended up simply tapping into your true nature as a creature of the underworld. While out there, you had always been average, here you were a saviour. A goddess. A queen. Maybe you indeed were celebrated and had gifts thrown at your feet exactly because you deserved nothing less. The chasm that was the dark side of the corrupt city might be your true home, and you had simply been in denial, running away from it. 

How easy it was to fall back into your patterns. As you sank into Seonghwa’s eyes, you recollected your time with him. The attentiveness that he had shown you. The way in which he would patiently listen to you explain obscure medical terminology, convincing you that, to him and him alone, it was interesting. You had felt blessed then. And that was exactly why you wanted to erase him. As you strutted down the corridor that ran behind the main hall of the club, leading you to the back rooms that were for staff and artists only, you shook your head. Wishful that this would help you get rid of the reminiscing of the last ‘easy’ time of your life. Before you revealed to yourself that you would commit a crime in the name of love. Even when that love was merely an illusion. Confused by your own feelings, still seeing a glowing red target over Seonghwa’s evil heart while making out golden glimmers on its surface, you stormed into the changing room and let out a sigh of relief as you saw it completely empty. You could meditate on your frightening conversation with the devil himself.

There was something therapeutic about the wind down from your performances, if you were to forget about the side eyes you were being thrown after having been caught talking to the owner of the establishment, and according to some of the whispers, a very desired man. How they could overlook the fact that he was more cold blooded than a snake when it came to satisfying their need for a happy and tranquil life amazed you. With the thumping of the music feeling so far away that you were practically enveloped in a sea of cotton, and the lights emitting a more familiar fluorescence, like a late night grocery store rather than the strobes, sickly colour selections and kaleidoscopic reflections, the changing room was a sort of safe space. You were trying to stuff the bills that you had collected, and the chunky stripper heels into a nondescript sports bag, after having covered yourself up with something more appropriate for a ‘so late it could be considered early’ trek back home.

You needed time to yourself before you were going to black out and make some foolish decisions concerning that conniving man. It was a curse, without a doubt. Not dissimilar to the very drugs you had smuggled, he was hard to quit. And you hated him for it. At least this was what you had been openly declaring, and were not going to give up on. If anything, this was your new habit. Imagining revenge on Park Seonghwa. You were going to get it. Eventually. You still had some hope left in you, even though your feet were currently struggling to hold you up, even in your sneakers, a hint of a fire in your chest as your memories of the man were refreshed. Did he have to look more handsome than before? More refined? More demonic?

When you had met him during a night out with your friends at a bar in the classier side of town, Seonghwa had introduced himself as an ‘intern’, which you now understood as one of the lower ranking goons who did the dirty work. Now, he was all white shirt and spotless sleeves, smooth skin and perfectly manicured hands, only a breath away from being a model rather than a hardened and ruthless criminal. Perhaps it was this contrast that had resulted in the man having cemented the nickname ‘Mars’ for himself, as you had found out from a few tipsy insiders who would do anything for a private show. The god of war, destruction, bloodshed, all in the name of an interpretation of peace and prosperity. The dangerous balance on the tip of a razor, by which you had undoubtedly been slaughtered.

He was a mastermind, a monstrosity in a beautiful guise as he ran, alongside the uppermost echelons of the mafia that effectively had the city, and at this point you would not put it beyond them - the country in a chokehold, the numerous operations that kept the underworld’s heart pumping. An inky fluid, viscous and bitter, one which you had accepted in a pretty glass of so-called love without thinking twice. Seonghwa knew how to make you happy. And the longer that went on, the more of a problem that became. He knew just how to spin thread out of you, how to wrap you again, and again around his finger until you were nothing more than one of the rings that he would occasionally wear to complete his outfits. And in such a hypnotised state, you thought you were doing the right thing when you broke into the place that was housing your professional dreams, and crept to retrieve some of the most sought after medication. Just for him. Oh how he thanked you then. How he had professed his love to you and praised you. You had been on cloud nine. Until you found out that someone had anonymously filed a report against you, provided all evidence, somehow all in the same night, and by the next midday you had already been summoned to court.

The day when you had stepped out of the courthouse was imprinted in your mind. Having received a much kinder sentence than one you had expected - more financial and reputational damages than anything else, you had been upbeat enough to engage in smalltalk with the state-provided lawyer whose name you had forgotten in a few hours. At least you had been that way before you saw him across the street. Lower body hidden by a jet black, matte sports car, black suit, black shirt, black hair… the reaper himself having arrived to taunt you and laugh at the death of your career. A carefree smile had been replaced by a deep scowl as the gears clicked, the puzzle completed itself in your head. Seonghwa. It had to be Seonghwa. It took every fibre of your being to restrain yourself from committing another criminal offence and attack him, and instead watch him climb into his car as though you had been nothing but empty space to him, and speed off in the direction of uptown. A murder most fowl. Of your soul, of your heart. And what mind you had left, you had promised to dedicate to hunting him down.

You sighed as you heaved the emergency exit door open, having avoided the main back entrance out of fear that Seonghwa might be there, or anywhere inside Club Estelle. What did you mean by hunting him down? Now that he was there. Within slapping distance, if you were to put it in an unceremonious manner. What were you actually seeking? Was it your mind twisting your desire for him to simply make a return and instead of stalling on your destruction, simply go on ahead with it and shoot you down? You shook your head, pulling the hoodie that was covering your otherwise scandalous outfit tighter around you as the cool air enveloped you. It was almost peaceful. Almost quiet. Almost.

“Hey Y/N~ you put on suuuuch a goood show, baby girl… fucking fantastic… damn. Was told I could catch you here and damn, you are a goddess.”

You snapped in the direction of the sound, finding a man who was rocking side to side approaching you. Relatively tall, scruffy, with dirt-stained clothing hanging off, unfortunately, a more athletic-looking body. So striking him with one of the heels in your bag and running was out of the question. Besides, who knew how he would act if he saw the cash? You backed away having been met by the stench of what had to have been at least three shots of the strongest liquor in the house, and found yourself with your back pressed against a wall of the dimly lit alleyway between the club, and a line of dumpsters, with this very drunk problem whose perverted grin was inducing an uncontrollable trembling. The longer you stood in this state of a showdown, much like a wild west film, the more he was suffocating you with the overwhelming, acrid stench of sweat, cigarettes and whatever concoction his stomach had made out of the alcohol he had consumed.

“Can I get a… private show, huh? Swear’ve been good just for you baby girl.”

You suddenly felt so alone. Abandoned. Terrifying conclusions running through your head. There was not a single performer at the club who you were more than acquaintances with, and even then, would they help? The club bouncers rarely got involved since the majority of the customers were high-paying, and apparently the rule there was: if they had cash, they could behave like trash. Maybe a dead stripper to them was just the usual night. Who would you have called in the past? You hated to admit the name, the face that floated into your brain as soon as you asked yourself the question. But Seonghwa had a way with situations like this. He had stood up for you before, to the point where you had to kiss away his pain and treat his wounds - though that was nothing compared to the scarlet sight that he had painted in your honour. It was horrific, and yet, he had made you smile. It had probably been the grandest gesture of adoration that you had ever received. 

Still managing to keep some distance between you and the disgusting creature, your brain went into overdrive. You were backing away from him, but there was only so much time before he would pounce. As much as you wanted to just scream your heart out and pray some, well, a very specific, knight in shining armour would appear out of nowhere, you were a big girl and knew that the stories you indulged in reading were not true. In real life, and especially your own life, you had to be your own hero. It was your mission to remind yourself that Seonghwa was a villain. So you tried to project him onto your temporary enemy.

Although the action made bile rise in your throat, you peered into the drunk’s eyes, trying to read his actions. Not quite walking straight, he took another step towards you, supporting himself by pushing on the dumpster to his left, your right. You immediately mirrored it, your hand feeling for the wall to your right. A couple more steps and you would be right beside a trash pile that you had spotted when you first appeared in the alley way from the staff exit – the bastard sure was persistent and did not want to give up on you. You sneered – it could almost be his redeeming quality, compared to a certain someone else who liked to drive into the metropolis and then turn into an omniscient poltergeist.

“Come on, why are you being such a tease? Weren’t you having the time of your life earlier? So sexy, don’t you want to use that?”

He was making your skin crawl. You were trying your hardest to not interact with him more than necessary and stayed quiet. One wrong move and you were going to be in much deeper trouble than this. The sort where the best-case scenario you envisioned was showing up in the news, not so alive and in a ditch. The situation reminded you of a short story by Rudyard Kipling, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, but instead of a face off between a mongoose and a king cobra, there was a young woman with a flurry of ruminations and a myriad of regrets. Though the latter was definitely swaying like a snake.

“Hey, baby girl, are you not going to come to daddy any time soon? I am getting impatient, baby, and you don’t want to piss me off.” He growled, his previously aimless blabber turning into a threat.

Your body was screaming for you to just make a run for it, but you knew better than that. This guy, unfortunately for you, was sporty enough and lanky enough to catch up to you in no time. On top of his build, you had the brilliant idea to wear new heels for your show today, which had cut into your flesh just enough to hurt, as if scolding you and repeating ‘I told you so’ and leaving your feet exhausted. As you stole a glance at the more comfortable pair of shoes for which you had settled, it was as though a lightbulb went off in your head. That was right. You did have manoeuvrability. You just needed to get one hit. 

You neared the exit of the alley, judging your proximity solely by the light emanating from a lonely street lamp right back on the main street. You steadied yourself as you saw the man open his mouth again and crouched further down to reach for an empty wine bottle that was lying on top of the pile you had been counting on. Keeping it hidden from the man, you stepped to the side, obscuring half of your body behind the large trash bin.

“What are you doing you bitch, huh? Answer me. I’ll give you one more chance.”

You remained silent, sliding your bag off your shoulder for better movement, pleading that it would not make a noise. The first glide down your upper arm was smooth enough, though your relief did not last long as it accelerated and came down to crash on some debris. That appeared to trigger new aggression in your opponent, as he practically snarled and lunged forwards, arms outstretched. You jumped backwards, only nearly missing a pipe protruding from one of the walls, and made contact with one of the walls, tripping the man as you did so. You were not thinking clearly, vision a blur, your surroundings spinning. You had only one mission now – survive. While the man was picking himself up, cursing and inspecting his painfully grazed hands, your eyes focused on the back of his head.

What if this was Seonghwa? What would you do? He had betrayed you, didn’t he? He had no right to be in your life again, regardless of your instincts. Regardless of how terrific he looked and how much he wanted you. An otherworldly rage overtook you as you imagined the devil in place of this sinner. In his designer suit, with his slicked back hair and chains that would glitter like stars even in the dim light. The set up made your body act on its own. You were fuelled by your anguish, and each sensation in the present turned into a re-enactment of your inner turmoil that had built up over the time. The guttural shriek, the stinging tears threatening to roll down your cheeks as you shut your eyes and swung with all your might only to meet-

-nothingness. A strong grip of your wrist and a firm chest pressed against your back prevented you from moving. And again, that familiar scent. Your drug. Your demise. The emergency exit door snapped itself shut, suggesting that Seonghwa had only now made it into the alleyway, and an odd sense of calm enveloped you. For the time being, he was the lesser of the many evils.

“Oh, ‘s you! Mar-”

The stinging sound of a gunshot, lulled into an ambient slumber with a silencer. Time slowed, and you swore you could see the bullet soaring through the air, about to collide with the skull of the man whose fate had been sealed. But a blink before you could bear witness to the impact, darkness overtook you, and you were embraced in an overwhelming sweetness, vision sealed with a resolved, mercilessly protective hand. You were spun in a macabre dance, now facing the gangster, breathing against the crook of his neck and focusing on the freezing cold jewellery that caressed your cheek. Nothing more than a sigh, a tainted soul escaping from the mouth of the drunkard, before you heard a thud of his body colliding with the cold concrete. 

You sincerely wished you could feel remorse, but all that you could identify in your body was an insatiable curiosity, and a perplexing connection of the societally horrific event with what had happened to your ex. So, that was how he had been disposed of, huh. The same damn signature. And he was most likely lying when he was trying to assure you that it was not the same man. His hand was too stable, heart was too calm, and the way in which he pressed his soft lips to your jaw, and once your sight was returned to you, your cheek, were all telltale signs that this was not the first time he had killed with you as his prime motivation.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who was ready to murder, darling.”

The words rang out in your head and the realisation hit you, cutting through the comforting fog that had settled over your psyche as you drifted in black irises. The bottle which you had picked out of the trash to serve as your weapon suddenly felt unimaginably heavy, and it began to slip.

“Now, now, we don’t need to cause any more of a mess…” gingerly, the bottle was taken from you, and clinked against the smoking gun as Seonghwa was more preoccupied with keeping your full attention on him. While you were still tame enough for him to manoeuvre, He returned the weapon under his jacket.

Dizzy, you swore you were within inches of delirium. Darting from one one part of his face to another, you soon spotted a tiny splatter of blood on his cheek, and lifted a trembling hand to caress it. Eyes wide, you watched as the crimson spread under your thumb and left a trail whilst you were wiping it away. Lips parted, you were locked in a soundless scream. This was not a joke. That man, no longer a man, a soon to be carcass, crow food, was dead. And without a doubt, Seonghwa was going to tell you that it was your doing. Turning slowly, you caught a glimpse of the aftermath, and the dark dots that now decorated Seonghwa’s side that had been the closest to the drunkard.

“Look at me, darling. Look at me.”

“But I, but he-”

“I said. Look at me.”

“But you kill-”

A crash resonated as Seonghwa threw the bottle against the opposite wall, the olive-coloured rainfall covering the dead body and rippling over the dumpsters. Knees buckling, you wanted to collapse next to it then and there, only to have a gloved hand force your face to be right against his.

“You are a lethal flower, darling. Shame this had to happen.”

“Shame?”

“You’re shaking. Did this man touch you?” with a concerned air, Seonghwa inquired, his breath hot against your skin. Discreetly, he began to step towards the exit of the alleyway.

“N-no… but-”

“Did he scare you?”

“Y-yes… a lot.”

“For fucks sake, these idiots have no self control, hurting my precious angel like this.”

Precious angel. You were his precious angel. So he did care, at least somewhat. You had a space, a chance to corrupt what was left of his heart. Your forehead was against his as you allowed him to guide you out of the cramped space, careful to sidestep when he told you, lifting one leg, the other when he whispered that you should do so. This felt right. He was back. He was here. He was ready to do anything for you. This was where you wanted him. While you were busy processing what had just unfolded and fading into your beloved manifestations, Seonghwa pulled you into an embrace and began to direct two of his men who had snuck in through the emergency exit and were awaiting instructions. After a couple of raises of the eyebrow, and one point towards the bag which you had abandoned, they began to tiptoe around the area, ready for a rapid spring cleaning.

Wherever he was taking you, you had no choice but to follow. Such was the rule. Even if you had other ideas and plans, now that Seonghwa was back, you had to fall into his rhythm, and figure out a new strategy that would not cause a dissonance. Your clouded mind was lulled by his low instruction. Slow down here, now heading out onto the street there… you were a puppet in his hold. You were… a criminal. Weren’t you? You froze just as the two of you approached a parked car, and judging by Seonghwa’s immediate instinct to reach into his pocket, you assumed it was his. No, you couldn’t. This was… you needed to go home. Conflicted, the hold you had on Seonghwa’s jacket loosened.

“Darling?”

“I… I need to go home.” his soft smile fell, replaced with a judgemental grimace. Retaining a fraction of decency, he refrained from shoving you against the vehicle, instead choosing to subject you to scrutiny.

“You are home.”

“Here?” you surveyed your surroundings, figuring out that you were outside Estelle, and luckily, there were no longer any stragglers who regularly tried to make it through into the venue past doors closing. The street was ghastly, located in one of the most dangerous parts of the metropolis housing anything from cheap alcohol and sex to designer drugs and assassins. Anything one could desire, they could find here. Was this really your home?

“Yes. With me.” Seonghwa was reeling you back. A click, and the car was unlocked. Keeping you within reach, he leaned to open the passenger door. You shook your head.

“No… no… I don’t want to be a-”

“Don’t want to be a what?” he insisted, and squeezed your upper arms, as if he was about to shake the answer out.

“A criminal.”

“The fuck?” 

“I am… look… I was… Again I was so ready to-” the man who was probably still in that alleyway, blood spilling like wine out of a glass that toppled over, occupied your vision, and you gawped at the bloodstain on Seonghwa’s cheek. 

“But you didn’t. You did not kill him.” Sighing, he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, not wishing to deal with a breakdown, far too attracted to you physically to care for what effect his expression of affection had.

“But I made you…”

“Oh baby, no you didn’t. I did it out of love for you. You had no part in this except being my angel. Darling, Y/N, come on…” picking his words carefully, he permeated your barriers, crawling into the expanse of your mind palace like a virus.

“I am no angel. The law literally says I committed crimes. I should not be here. I should never be here-”

Evidently this caring approach was not functional. You were simply melting into him and turning into a sappy mess, instead of the coldhearted bitch who he had spoken to in the club. Where were you? Where was the goddess who wanted nothing more but to hurt him? He had deconstructed you a little too much, it seemed, you needed a bit more venom in your system. Seonghwa snapped.

“You know what. You are right.”

“Huh?” still too dazed to answer properly, you hummed.

“Who do you think got you out of a jail sentence in the first place, huh?”

“I- I don’t… What?” eyes narrowing, Seonghwa peered into your soul. He needed you to wake up if he was going to give into his obsession.

“Talk to me. Take a guess. Do you really think that the judge was benevolent? Fuck… girl, you’re naive. That bastard passes his bank account around the courtroom, you really think he woke up one day and felt like being nice just because? Oh no… sweetheart. I got you out. You hear me? I did. Because like hell are you gonna be anybody else’s. Huh, you tried your best with that idiot rotting in the ground. Bet you screamed my name as he fucked you, right? Tell me, is that right? SPEAK, sweetheart, don’t piss me off.”

Noticing how you could not contain your tremors, he released his grip on your upper arms, only to position your hands so that they rested on his waist, while his cupped your face. What was supposed to be an intimate gesture felt like a stare down with a wild beast. His expression was that of a predator, pupils dilated so he could refresh the memories of every piece of you, while his lips curled into what you interpreted as a crooked, pitying smile.

If you did not know better, you would have believed that your love that was reflected in his dark orbs was actually his. But he was a twisted, terrifying man, who could only take. As such, most you could expect was his suffocating coddling, his treatment of you like you were of his design. His cooing as he peered at you and saw how you were putty under his touch. You hated him precisely because you knew you could never escape.

“Oh baby… my lovely little angel, look at you. Don’t you know that I would do anything to make you smile? Come on, you know that right?” he wiped a stray tear with his right hand, and you swore you caught a quiff of blood and gunpowder, blending with a hint of alcohol that was still on his breath from earlier, all to be washed away by that scent you always adored, vanilla, flowers, coffee. Seonghwa. You nodded, which seemed to provide relief for the man.

“And I will never let your pretty hands get dirty, okay? If you need somebody dead just say it my darling and I will do it. Me. You are my angel. And now, let me prove it to you, alright?”

Whatever noise had existed before was now but a soft buzz of a streetlamp. No rustling. Not a single droplet. Suspended in an intimate fog, you studied the criminal, the hardened killer, the bloodthirsty demon in front of you. The one who was so hellbent on getting you to follow him to the realm below, even though you had never left. It was simple. He led, you followed. He told you to jump, you jumped. That was all he wished for. And perhaps this was indeed your fate. Not to be rushing around in hospital corridors, nor to be collecting banknotes in a g-string. But to completely fall from grace for the embodiment of an apocalypse, who more than willingly closed the space between you to taste the lust you had been suppressing, relishing your shared sin.

Bang bang, that awful sound…

The wind styled your locks as Seonghwa sped deeper into the night, abandoning the artificial lighting of the underworld district. From bars and clubs, to sleepy neighbourhoods, and finally, the inspiring expanse of rolling hills and rocky slopes, he was taking you to a place where you would never be bothered nor controlled, yet one that gave you a view of the city that was so breathtaking, that it was easy to believe you could destroy it. Estelle would be smaller than ever, and your problems would be nothing more than a haze on the line of the horizon. The cliffside had been your spot when you were something of an item, with you always begging for Seonghwa to take you there, if not for the alone time, then at least for the striking skyline. How oddly romantic of him to pick the spot now.

Relaxing into the leather seat of the Rolls Royce convertible, a new addition to Seonghwa’s collection - as he had informed before starting the car, you tested the strength of the breeze by stretching your hand out of the window and letting it float. After a couple of tries, you finally got into the right pose for minimal resistance, and pretended that you were a bird, soaring, cageless. The glimmering dots of the city even further from you than now as you spread your little wings and lifted yourself towards freedom. In moments like these, you were happy to be able to enjoy the simplicities, and it was easier than ever to pretend that you were not the Y/N who had fallen so irreversibly for a beast, that to you even his lies sounded like the truth. And, of course, it was easy to imagine that Seonghwa himself was capable of feeling love.

He did not bother taking off his gloves nor, which was uncharacteristic of him, clearing the remnants of the execution off his face, as if it was a badge of honour. Interestingly, the more you observed the gangster, the more you got used to the new additions and even took them as complementing features. While he kept one hand on the steering wheel, he continuously seeked contact with you, the other gripping your thigh as if to make sure that you were still there in the car with him and were not a hallucination. The exhilarating velocity at which the car dashed past trees, somnolent villas and road signs was barely letting you catch your breath due to Seonghwa choosing to keep the roof off, and so to stabilise yourself you returned the gesture. The smirk into which his lips curled was not quite as threatening as it had appeared before, however his aggressive slam on the accelerator made you start praying. What would the family that had not yet disowned you think, if they were to find you in a crashed car with one of the most notorious men in the region? You chuckled; they would probably agree that at least the last thing you saw was beauty himself.

Finally, you approached the secluded location, and fortunately, it was as abandoned as ever. Grinding to a halt on a gravelly clearing, beyond which were two lines of wooden fences that had been set up at the very edge of the small cliff, Seonghwa set the car into parking, cranked the handbrake and turned off the ignition. A deafening silence overtook you as you looked up at the night sky, twinkling stars reminding you of the collection of silver that hung around the enigmatic fiend’s neck and on his left ear. In the absence of machinery, you could feel his presence even more acutely, and the anticipation for what he undoubtedly had planned was reducing the supposed coolness of the hour into a mere deception. Your body was burning up, and as Seonghwa’s hand moved higher and higher until it was teasing you by playing with the drawstrings of your tracksuit bottoms you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

You stared out at the metropolis through the windshield, registering your beloved criminal’s movements towards you. As you studied the glinting whites, reds and yellows that formed the urban starscape, you could not help but ponder how, out of all the millions of people, in this architectural phenomenon that seemed to stretch on forever, on a day when you were not even supposed to be where you had ended up being, you had run into none other than Park Seonghwa. And as fate would have it, you were naive enough to let him take everything from you. And being the loved up, hypnotised fool that you were, you thanked him for the misery in which you found yourself, because at least he made you feel. With him you were a disaster, but you saw life in colour. With him it was impossible to tell whether there would be a tomorrow, but you could exist in an exuberant today. With him, the everchanging palette of emotion had a canvas to paint on. And tonight, you were going to let the masterpiece create itself.

“Take the gloves off if you want to touch me so badly.” you derided him for his eagerness, though did not see any dampening to it. On the contrary, he appeared to be more drawn to you than ever, mumbling a ‘sure thing, darling’ as he unbuttoned the leather, and slid the pair off his hands with his canines to speed up the process. The gloves found a home in the compartment underneath the wheel, to join the harness and pistol that he had stashed away there.

“Good?” he asked, giving you a mischievous grin.

“Good.” no more words were needed for him to pull you towards him, and lock your lips together in a feverish, thrilling kiss.

Oh, how you missed this. How you missed the mind-numbing sensation of his hand on the back of your neck, how soft his lips were compared to his sharp and intimidatingly stunning appearance. You moved in a familiar rhythm, having recognised one another’s alluring presence and only wanting more with each passing second. Frustrated with the remaining distance, Seonghwa growled into you and dragged you by your top; understanding his goal, you rose from your seat and promptly were settled on his lap, grinding against his growing erection that was concealed by too many layers of clothing for your liking.

Brushing his hair back, lightly tugging on it as you reached the ends, you were giving yourself up to the scalding hot hellfire. Your memory did not fail you: the action elicited a groan, and the kiss was further deepened until your lungs were screaming for oxygen. Pulling away, you gasped, only to be alerted by a stinging pain on your cheek, and a hostile grimace on the man, whose hand was hovering next to your jawline.

“Did I say you could pull away?”

“And since when are you so damn needy?” You challenged, slapping away the hand that had just collided with you, and placing yours on his exposed throat, not bothering to ease into the action as you pushed your digits into the sensitive skin, restricting his airflow and preventing him from taunting you with a mocking retort.

You continued to rock your hips forward, sensing your own arousal climbing further and further amidst the enjoyment of the man’s temporary obedience. You watched his eyes roll back momentarily, and he attempted to tilt his head towards you and steal your lips, only for you to wriggle in his lap until you were completely out of his reach, still holding his neck.

Seonghwa was seeing stars, and yet amongst them you still shined the brightest. There you were. This was who he was searching for. When he was at his limit, and could no longer withstand the restraint, he rapidly reached for your wrist and yanked your arm away, making you yelp. To prevent you from attempting anything similar, he used his hands as cuffs to keep you under his control, and pulled you to him. Giving you a smirk corrupted by lust, he kissed you again, only this time letting his long tongue part your mouth, and swirl itself around.

Wanton sounds filled your mind and preoccupied your ears as you parted, strings of saliva connecting you. Apparently dissatisfied, Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, and gripped your waist. Sitting up, he mumbled ‘back seat’ and stumbled out of the car with you wrapped around him. In seconds, you were lying on the couch-like leather, Seonghwa above you as he shifted his attention to your neck, leaving trails of spit, and nipping at the skin until he saw the beloved bruising begin to show. Sucking above the jugular vein, he imagined himself tearing you apart then and there. Destroying you. But the way in which your hands swiftly moved to unbutton his shirt was too enticing to not commend.

“Look who is needy now.” he teased, and reached for the zipper on your hoodie, unable to contain a pleased sigh as he saw that you had not changed out of the white dancewear. As soon as the hoodie was off, and flying in the direction of the steering wheel, he let himself devour the tainted goddess that you were.

Trailing over the fabric, he did not wish to take it off, the image of you around the pole still fresh in his mind and amplifying his lust. His lips made contact with your chest as he added more love bites to his abstract design.

“You drove me crazy earlier tonight with those moves of yours. How could you even consider anything else when you have a body made to sin?”

“I think you are batshit by default.”

“Do you want me to punish you again?” he threatened, discontented when it had no effect on you as you contended. 

“By what, hitting me? Two can play that game-” as soon as he saw your hand flying towards him, he caught it and forced it down by you, and chuckled.

“Be a good girl and you’ll come.”

“Big deal.”

“Says the whore who was grinding against me.”

He shifted to untie your sweats, and dragged the material down to reveal your matching white g-string, stopping for a second before moving to take it off too. The bra was going to be enough for him.

“Says the reprobate with a hardon from the bare minimum.”

He did not respond, too enraptured by the sight before him. Your form, laid out and so familiar, and yet, the newfound resolve and the bite in your words was boundlessly more attractive than the mellow nurse in training that he had fucked before. The blaze that had festered and grown within you, painting your psyche and very essence in the soot of detestation was a guiding light to him, a star in the pitch black that he gravitated towards, and wished to take over. Your strength and determination spurred him on and inspired him to make you reach the point of no return. How? He was yet to decide. But that came after he had his fill of your intoxicating body.

“Damn, Y/N, do I even need to get you ready for me? You’re so fucking wet-” he remarked, running a hand over your pussy, with it immediately receiving a dose of your slick.

“Guess you don’t.” you countered, attempting to shut your legs together, but to no avail as your brattiness only encouraged him.

“You know what. I am in a giving mood. A changed man. Ready to commit some good deeds.” he announced to you in a low, borderline monstrous tone as Seonghwa pulled you by your ankles closer to him and began to work at your arousal.

After a slow start, where he languidly circled your nub until you gave out a whine, the man dedicated himself wholly, and soon enough, you were sinking into a sensual paradise. The two digits pumped into you, while with his other hand Seonghwa was stimulating your sensitive clit relentlessly, rubbing the erect nub until you were barely able to produce any sound at all. Pressing his thumb right against its tip, he curled his fingers and beckoned you closer to a climax, stopping the motions, he kept his hand inside as he replaced the finger that was dominating your clit with another thumb, and instead took to rapidly building you up with practised, fast flicks, higher, higher, just as you were about to-

Your hips jerked up, only to be met with a total emptiness as you tried desperately to coax Seonghwa into giving you your orgasm, to which he only responded with a click of his tongue, and a demonstrative sucking of his digits as you watched him with a glazed over expression.

“You rude, unbearable menace.”

“Awh, is my precious angel angry that I did not give you what you wanted?” he asked, giving his cock a couple of pumps before making a circular motion with his index finger and ordering you.

“On your hands and knees, like the bitch you are.” immediately, you obliged, unable to contain yourself after he had denied you what you had been seeking, with that devilish grin suggesting just how much the notion had excited him. Finally, he undid his belt and trousers, letting his aching length spring free, a hiss escaping Seonghwa as the cool air hit it.

Finding your slick-coated pussy with the tip of his cock, he teased you, repeatedly moving it back and forth between your folds. When you let out a whine, rocking your ass side to side in an attempt to deliver your need for more friction, Seonghwa merely chuckled and pushed forward, keeping his member flush against your sex, but not offering any relief. Your wetness coated him as he continued the torturous act, pausing to flick your clit and snicker at just how desperate you had become for his dick.

“Tell me if you want it.” Seonghwa wanted to hear you beg, or sigh, or anything else to suggest that you were fully pliable, but what had come out of your dirty mouth surpassed all his wishes.

“You want this pussy more than I want you, judging by how fucking hard your cock is, Hwa.”

Without as much as a warning, he put an end to the foreplay and slammed his hips against yours, sinking deep inside and groaning at the warm invitation of your walls. As he heard you yell out, he mercilessly glided back until only his tip was between your labia, only to thrust and bottom out once more. And again. And again. Just as he had remembered from the nights he had you before, this left you trembling, and soon enough your body was pleading for more, to which he happily obliged, smacking you on the ass and speeding up.

The feeling of you spasming around him and the feeble moans were an unrivalled art. He positioned one hand to hook around you and held it against the area right below your belly, biting his lip as he felt his dick pushing deep inside you, the bulge detectable by his palm. Closing his eyes, Seonghwa focused on this sensation, thereby slowing down ever so slightly, and moving to hit the spot that accelerated the growth of the knot in your tightening core. 

“A-ah… Seong… hwa…” you mewled into each stroke, hazy and unable to form anything more than nonsensical babble.

“That’s right, darling, only I can make you feel this good.”

Seonghwa was despicable, because he knew exactly how to make you lose your mind and fall apart under him and forget that you ever hated him at all, driven only by a carnal passion. Having had enough practice to study you, you were at his mercy as he provided the exact fullness that you had been desiring for so long, the exact firm thrusts that were bringing you closer and closer to a total fall, and the honey-laden voice that had you turning even weaker.

“My- darling-”

Your climax came down on you hard and fast, and you crumbled into the shaking that washed over you, forehead almost connecting with the back of the seats if not for the fistful of your tresses that Seonghwa had grabbed. Not letting you ride out your high, he quickened his pace and each thrust was making your vision darken and your moans turn into pathetic wails, drowned out by the lewd slapping of skin against skin that was lubricated by your orgasm. Using you as a fucktoy, he chased his own high and pushed you into an abyss of violent pleasure, ceasing to abuse your cunt only when he deemed it necessary for himself.

He slid his cock out of your pulsating sex, dragging it over your clit before ushering you to kneel before him. Movements still too slow and lagging, Seonghwa proceeded to guide one leg, then another down, so that you were ready for him. Lifting your chin, he he peered into your hazy orbs and commanded:

“Open.”

As you slackened your jaw and opened your mouth wide in obedience, he spat into it, and upon positioning one of his hands at the back of your head and the other at the base of his member, he slid into the warmth, sighing as your tongue glided along his throbbing length, as if encouraging him to go deeper until his tip hit the very limit and bumped against the back of your throat. You struggled to suppress your gag reflex, but the salaciousness of the combination of yours and his spit and your orgasm dribbling around his cock as you began to bob your head was driving Seonghwa to the brink of insanity, and you desperately wanted to see him unravel entirely.

“Ah… that’s it. My good cock slut. This mouth is built… for me.”

You allowed him to choke you as he fucked your throat with abandon, submitting to the oncoming waves of his orgasm. Clawing at his thighs you seeked balance, to which he responded by pushing you even closer, earning a muted yelp. The vibration drove him over the edge as he pumped himself inside you only a few more times, before collapsing into a series of staggered bucks of the hips and a muttering of filthy curses.

“Swallow darling, I bet you were dreaming of this- ah, fuck-” he exclaimed. 

He threw his head back as you centred yourself, trying to relax into how his hand that was tangled in your hair kept you so close that your nose was pressed against his pubic bone, though it proved to be an impossible challenge. In an effort to overcome the pain that spread over your jaw as Seonghwa refused to let go of you, you blinked away the moisture in your eyes and focused on the sensation of the hot, salty cum coating and running down the back of your throat. 

When he finally released you from his hold and let you fall onto the floor of the car, you sputtered and gasped for air, vision having grown blurry. While he did not comfort you, nor praise you for how well you had taken him, even though judging from his state you could make your own conclusions about the performance, this roughness felt more real, more honest than the intimacy you had shared before. You licked the corners of your mouth, collecting the remnants of his cum and spit, and crawled up onto the leather seating to be met with open arms, a gesture which, in your exhaustion, you accepted.

Captured in a lazy embrace you admired the universe that surrounded you. The dawn was imminent, with some of the more enthusiastic birds already greeting you with their songs and the distant rumble of the city beginning to pick up, and yet none of this felt real. It was like you were floating in the air, tethered to the mortal realm only by the man beside you. You had taken the liberty of snatching Seonghwa’s suit jacket, considering that the outerwear you had been wearing had been unceremoniously discarded and thrown into the driver leg space, outside of your immediate reach. 

You pondered what was going to happen after this broken reunion, that had been as always, orchestrated by the evil mastermind with a pretty face, currently resting on the seats, one arm over the door, the other on the back rest, head tilted to the sky. When you inspected one of the dark spots on the right sleeve of the jacket, you had come to realise that the dead man, who you had left behind to chase your pleasure, had, amidst his departure from the living, was trying to greet Seonghwa. Using his gang name, no less. You wanted to laugh until tears would be streaming down your face. Double over and, hands hitting your thighs, fail to compose yourself and continue laughing at just how ignorant you were. Fooled once again. Of course that scene had been this criminal’s doing. How else could anything ever happen to you if not with Seonghwa’s meddling? This overly involved, human embodiment of jeopardy who you had voluntarily invited in to share space and time, so elegant as he was devoid of movement, counting stars in the sky, the unbuttoned white shirt gracing his figure like a heavenly robe. It was a shame that you had to have chosen him to glorify, especially since he fit the role well enough to fit into your delusions.

As you sat upright, only to put your elbows on your knees and lean to catch your head in your hands, you mused whether you truly despised this man or not. It was almost habitual, routinely, to curse his name again, and again until it was nothing but an incoherent collection of syllables. It was your shield and clarity, your comprehension of the incorrigible man who, come the opportunity, would shoot you down the same way that he did to hundreds, if not thousands of others. It was heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, but unfortunately true. In his eyes the individuals with families, friends, hopes and dreams, hell, even those with nothing at all, were nothing but sacks of bone and blood that he could scare into submission, or drain if they disobeyed. Such were his methods. Methods that you had looked the other way from, making yourself believe that you were above that amateur, unjust purgatory. No matter how much of you Seonghwa received as an offering, it was never going to be enough. The seven deadly sins were a bucket list for him, and one in which he would outshine every reckless criminal. He was systematic, calculating, and would not hesitate to remove a variable that no longer served him.

You were serene, a ghost of a smile dancing on your lips. Slowly, you blinked, immersing yourself in the sensation of the bites, the kisses that the man you had once felt something for gifted you. Sultry tattoos that you would wear with the pride of a person who had defeated themselves, come to terms with, and learnt to coexist with inner turmoil. Nothing short of a miracle. If this hell were to continue, then you would simply have to adapt to live with the ebbs and flows of a turbulent tide. Hilarious, how you were treating Seonghwa as if he was a terminal disease that you had to live with, but the analogy was comforting. Until the moment when you would receive a bullet between your brows, you would strive to live fully, and remain indifferent. As much as you had wanted to ‘get the final word’, you had come to realise that all you had to say had been said, and he was no longer worth your time. Looking at the horizon, you spotted the sun beginning to stir under its heavy blankets, getting ready to rise.

“You thought about me, didn’t you?” Seonghwa’s voice broke your peace, and you turned to him, regarding his bewitching demeanour with a tired onceover.

“Hm?”

“You were thinking about me, in that alley way. Weren’t you?” so, he had realised now, too. However, you were not bothered to continue this discourse. Fascinating how the mind of even the most evil of men could get fixated on the simple things like a random good-for-nothing becoming a gourmet meal for maggots.

“I am not sure why or how that matters.”

“Would you kindly get the gun for me?” Now that piqued your interest, so you obliged, and reached over the front seats, aware of how your ass was on full display for Seonghwa though he had just seen you in even more lewd tones. After a couple of tries, the hand gun was in your hands, and hooking it by the trigger guard, you tried to pass it to its owner. To your surprise, he refused and you remained standing in your perplexion.

“What are you getting at?”

“You definitely thought about me. As a matter of fact you were thinking about doing this for a long time.” you could not deny that, and thus remained silent, “Remember how I taught you to fire a gun?” the man continued, and you nodded along.

“That I do, but again. Not sure how it applies.” you crossed your arms, the pistol swinging ever so slightly from your index finger.

“Don’t you want to fulfil your dream, darling?” he raised an eyebrow and grinned.

Another game. Another dare. Another attempt at making you feel something when you had no more emotions to spare. You were spent. For the first time since you had first come to be acquainted with Park Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Hwa, Mars, you saw a stranger. A passing face who you would regard, but most importantly, go on your merry way and never wish to see again. No more yearning, nor begging. He was cute when he thought he was in control. You chuckled, earning a questioning gaze from the ghost of your past.

“What is so amusing, my dear Y/N? So delighted that you can barely contain yourself?”

Oh, if only he knew. You steadied your breathing, and through half-lidded eyes, took in the man’s form that you had once worshipped. Everything had finally clicked, and unknowingly, the symphony in your mind was now fully composed, all to Seonghwa’s rhythm. Your magnum opus, by the visitation of a brutal muse, completed. With the softness of a stalking cat, you bent forward and came face to face with this boy, and with both hands, pressed the gun to his bare chest, smiling languidly as it collided with the necklaces to make a noteless tune. Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he followed your ascension back to now leaning against the front seat further from him, stifling a laugh of his own as he realised your intentions. The world held its breath as you dispelled your nightmare, and, light-hearted, like you were discussing daily happenings or the weather, asked him:

“You said you’d keep my hands clean, right?”

“Yes.” breathless, he whispered.

“You said you would kill anyone for me, right?” you continued sweetly, studying how Seonghwa checked the magazine and clicked the hammer with practised motions, appearing almost impressed.

“Yes.”

“Do anything to make me smile?” you tested, and he conceded, brushing a hand over the barrel, and looking up to memorise your every detail.

“Yes.”

“Then prove it. And make me smile. One last time.”

You uttered, admiring how his perfect skin, his gorgeous eyes, his dark soul glowed, caught ablaze in the rays of the rising sun.

Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

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[miela]

Shattered Memories

Prologue

Pairing: Peter Parker x Silk!Avenger!Stark!Reader Length: Series (Longish, maybe a little over 10 chapters) Series Genre(s): Romance with Dramatic and Comedic undertones (if you squint) Series Theme(s): Fluff, Angst, Smut Series Summary: After Peter sacrificed his identity for the sake of the world, five years go by before he finds you back in his life again. Series Warnings: Mentions of substance abuse, alcoholism, s*icidal thoughts, and possible abusive relationship (not Peter x Y/N) in later chapters. warnings subject to change. Please proceed with caution. Extra Content: One of my OCs are in here! Let me know if you want me to make a character list to reference.

Masterlist

➼ divider by cafekitsune

In the sky there is a crackling sound as a jagged purple band of fluorescent and electric strips open in the air like someone took a knife and cut open the blue of the sky. Peter swung over by your friends, while you swung around the premise of the Statue of Liberty to make sure that no one was left behind from needing to go back to their proper universe. It was a crazy few days. It was a crazy week really. First, going to Italy on the school trip just for it to be interrupted demands from Fury to Mysterio making out Peter to be public enemy number one to this, fighting people from different dimensions just to fix everything.

Just as you thought things couldn’t get any worse, you weren’t prepared for what was next.

“You’re okay!” Michelle Jones-Watson, aka MJ, exclaimed once Peter swung by them. 

They all joined in on a group hug before Peter pulled back from them and studied them worriedly. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, we’re okay.” MJ said with a sigh of relief. 

At that moment you swung down as well as you took off your spider mask while catching your breath. “Well, that was another successful adventure for the Iron Spider Gang!” 

MJ and Ned let out exhausted chuckles with you as Celina smiles big. Everyone looked exhausted and honestly you were exhausted. Your shoulders dropped in relief before Peter grabbed your face gently with his gloved hands, noticing the gash on the temple of your forehead above you eye. His touch took you by surprise as you looked up at him wondrously.

“Oh my god,” He exclaimed as he scanned your face for other injuries. “You’re bleeding…!” 

You had gotten the cut during the battle and you had gotten worse injuries before, and each and every time, Peter got so concerned…even if he was in worse condition.

“Oh this? ‘Tis nothing but a scratch, Parker.” You smiled softly. “I’m sure it’s already halfway healed.”

He looked into your eyes filled with worry and a hint of skepticism. “Are you sure?” He rubs his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks gently and lovingly.

“I’m fine,” You smile reassuringly. “I’m okay, I promise.”

His shoulders dropped in relief. “Okay….okay….good.” He then turned to look at yours and his friends, Ned, MJ and Celina, to make sure they were okay. They all gave him tight and thin lipped reassuring smiles and nods in response.

“Um…We should go then, right?” MJ asked after a moment. 

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I can summon the Quinjet and we can be home in no time.”

For a moment, Peter struggles to find the words to tell you guys the truth of how this mission will end. Thunder echoed in the sky as you all looked up to see the purple rips that dance across the sky. Doctor Stephen Strange, a sorcerer, was levitating in the sky casting a spell that is meant to solve the merging of the multiverse issue. 

Peter let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes and pursed his lips together for a moment before speaking those dreaded words that you never thought you would ever hear in your life. 

 “You’re gonna forget who I am.”

All four of you look at him confused. 

“What?” Ned asked, voicing what all of you were thinking. 

“Forget who you are…? What are you talking about?” MJ added.

Celina cocked her head to the side in confusion.

You, who has been through the craziest of situations and knew that anything and everything was possible due to your thankless job as an avenger, caught on to what he was meaning very quickly. You looked up at the purple rips, to Strange and then to the spell before looking at Peter horrified for an elaboration in hopes that he didn’t mean what you thought he meant. 

Peter noticed your expression and continued. “It’s okay. I’m gonna come and find you, and I’ll explain everything.” 

All your faces fall as you realize that he definitely meant what you were afraid of him meaning. 

“No…”  was all that you could manage coming out of your mouth. It sounded almost pleading. 

Peter cradled your face again and looked into your eyes with determination. “I’ll make you remember me, and it will be like none of this ever happened. Okay?”

MJ, in a slightly panicked state, replied. “Okay, but what if that doesn’t work?”

“Yeah!” you agreed, tearing up. “What if…What if that doesn’t work? What if we can’t remember you? I don’t want to do that. I don’t…I don’t wanna do that, Peter. I don’t want to do that…” You shook your head rapidly.

 “I know, (Y/N),” He cradled your face again and looked into your eyes sadly. “I know.”

“But…Is there not something we can do? We can come up with a plan or something! There’s always something we can do…We always find a way. Always. It's literally our job…!” You began thinking of other ways immediately. “What about…what about…” You were at a loss for words as you tried to scramble up an idea from your scattered brain.

Peter shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do.” He brushed his thumbs over your cheek and wiped away your tears before adding reassuringly. “But it’ll be okay.”

“No,” you say again, shaking your head rapidly again as your vision becomes blurred because of your tears. “No, no, no, no….no, Peter, please there must be another way.” you hold on to his arms with an iron grip as you start shaking in fear. “There’s always another way…!”

How could anyone think that you could accept this? You and Peter always had each other’s backs, especially in battle and on missions. You two were a perfect pair, a match made in heaven. How could you let yourself forget him? 

You wouldn’t let yourself forget him. 

You wanted to graduate with him. You wanted to enjoy the summer before college with him. You wanted to go school supply shopping with him and help him pick out stuff for his dorm room. You wanted to help him move in and set up his room and then spend the rest of the night watching your favorite movies together. You wanted to go to a halloween party with him as you wear matching costumes and be cute together as he introduces you to all of his new friends. You had a plan to make a friendsgiving and you wanted him to be there. You wanted to spend Christmas together and go ice skating and snowboarding. You wanted to move in together and spend the rest of your lives together.

But you couldn’t do all of that if you couldn’t remember who he was now could you? 

“We will find another way.” 

“(Y/N)...” 

“No! Peter, I-I can’t accept this. What if it doesn't work?” You sniffled out as you let your mind race with the possibilities of what could go wrong with this horrendous plan. “You’ll be all alone…”

MJ tried to catch her breath, as Ned’s eyes brimmed with tears. Celina was silently crying. The air was thick but at the same time, it was way, way, way too thin. You felt both hot and cold at the same time and you could’ve sworn your body was going into shock over this.

“Hey, hey…” Peter cradled your face again. “Look at me.”

You looked up at him with sad eyes and a quivering lip. 

 “What’s your name?” He asked.

“(Y/N) S-stark.” You sniffled out.

“That’s right,” He smiled softly. “And what are you?”

“An Avenger.” 

“And what do Avengers do?”

“Save the world,” You replied again, you swallowed hard as you tried to not to scream and sob. “W-we save the world.”

“And how do we plan to do that?” he asked, referring to the two of you.

You recalled the day you both became the dynamic duo of the Avengers. You both had promised that you would always stick together no matter what. You both were two halves of one emotionally and biologically, since you both were bitten by the same spider. 

“Together,” You gave him a small smile remembering the first time you guys made that oath. “Until the bitter end. Like we promised.”

“And I keep my promises, yeah?” He smiled sweetly. “This isn’t the bitter end. Not yet. I will come and find you.” He glanced up at the others. “All of you.”

Ned looked down for a moment before speaking. “You promise?”

 Peter turned to Ned and looked at him with a reassuring smile. “Yeah,” He let go of your face and walked over to his best friend. “I promise.”

Peter and Ned did a bittersweet version of their special handshake. It was almost heartbreaking to see due to how…final it felt. Then Peter pulled Ned into a hug. 

“I’ll come find you, okay?”

“I know you will,” Ned smiled sadly. 

When they pulled back from the hug, Peter turns to MJ and Celina. He goes over by Celina first.

Celina’s shoulder shook as she hiccuped from crying. Peter worried for her since they’ve been attached at the hip since they were little. They were practically siblings and she would be losing the last of her family…and he would be losing the last of his. But he knew she would be in good hands with how strong the bond of your friends group was.

“Hey,” he started. “I know you’ve been thinking about training with Strange. I think you should do it, Who knows you might need to use a spell one day.” He smiled at her and petted her head endearingly. “You’ll do great out there. I'll always be your big bro, Celi.”

Her lip quivered as she nodded and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back and kissed her head. She’s always been like a little sister to him, despite them being the same age. Once she pulled back from the hug she went over to Ned and hugged him as she cried into his shoulder. Peter then turned to MJ. 

“You better come find us.” She sniffled. “If you don’t, I’m just gonna figure it out. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.” She let out a barely-there soft chuckle. “And I will do it again.”

He hugged her for a moment before saying. “I promise I’ll fix this mess.”

He turns back to you again as you look at him and nod knowingly. There was nothing you could do and you knew that this was for the greater good…even if you hated the hell out of the idea of it. 

“You better come find us, Parker. Do you hear me?” You said sternly as you poked his chest. “You better come find me. If you won’t then I’ll come find you myself. And If I have to come find you…I swear to the fucking heavens and Asgard, If I have to come find you…I’ll kick your ass into another dimens-” 

His lips were on yours in a deep, passionate and desperate kiss, and you returned the kiss back while wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you like it was the last time you guys would ever kiss and you returned the energy of the exchange. After a moment he reluctantly pulled back slowly and leaned his forehead on yours softly. 

“I really fucking hate magic,” You stated.

Peter laughed softly with a knowing grin. “Yeah,” He replied. “Me too.”

You guys stood there for a moment in each other’s arms in a moment of silence before you spoke up.

“I love you, Peter.” you said to him as you cradled his face as you looked into his eyes.

He looked back into your eyes sadly and endearingly. “I-I lov-”

“Just wait,” You interjected. “Hold on to it and tell me when you see me again.”

“Sure,” Peter responded. “As long as you promise that you won't think I’m some creep and kick my ass.”

You let out a laugh and looked down at your chest for a moment before you pulled at the chain that was under your suit revealing your necklace. You hold it in your hands in a fist for comfort as you close your eyes and sighed deeply with determination. It’s the necklace Peter gave you when you first told you that he loved you. It was a silver spider necklace with two red rubies on it. You thought it was both sweet as heck and corny as hell, but that’s what you loved about it and that’s what you loved about Peter. You unclasped the necklace and looked at it for a moment before putting it in his hand and pushing his fingers down to his palm gently so he could hold it. He looked at you wondrously in response. 

“Give this back to me once you find me.” You smiled softly. “I promise I'll remember you.”

The sky around you all began rumbling even more as the sorcerer did his work. The new spell was taking effect and you wish you could freeze time, just so you could memorize Peter’s face a little longer. Hold his hand a little longer. Kiss his lips a little longer. Although you never took for granted the time you both spent together, it still felt like there wasn’t enough time spent together.

Crazy how things can change in a blink of an eye.

You all looked at the sky for a moment before looking back to each other sadly and eyes full of hope that this was just some horrible, messed up nightmare. Peter and you met eyes and he pulled you into another passionate kiss and you returned the kiss back. After a moment he pulled back again, hating the idea of having to do it.

“I promise, I’ll give this back to you.” He whispered, trying not to cry. 

“I know you will,” You smiled sadly. “Or else I’ll take it back from you instead.”

He let out a choked laugh. 

“This isn’t goodbye,” He added. “Just a see you later.”

“I’ll see you later,” You choked out. “Call me around seven? The usual time?”

He chuckled. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ll explain everything then.” 

He planted a long soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled away and stepped back reluctantly. You let your fingers glide along his shoulders and arms and hands as he moved. You both hesitated for a moment before you held each other's hands for a long moment before letting go. The feeling was heartbreaking, agonizing and agoraphobic. You wanted nothing more than to latch yourself on to him and never let go as if that would force you to never forget him. 

You guys never broke eye contact for that entire moment as if you were trying to find a way to keep the connection between you two alive for as long as possible.

He sighed one last time and jumped onto the ledge you all were standing in behind and looked up at Strange, who nodded at him as a last goodbye. Peter had a knowing look on his face….a look of ultimate defeat and the acceptance of it. He looked back at you one last time, taking in your form like a photograph in his mind. 

Although you would forget him, he would never forget you.

You mouthed “I love you, Peter Parker.” With a reassuring smile.

He gave you a sad smile before swinging off the edge. It all hit you right then and there and you let out a choked sob as you collapsed onto the ground and cried so hard you thought your body was going to explode. You had lost so much…so, so much and now you had to lose something else…someone else.

You don’t remember your friends trying to catch you when your legs gave out on you, you don’t remember the spell passing through you, and it only took a moment before you didn’t remember why you were crying. 

~

#peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!reader #spiderman #peter parker #tom holland #marvel #mcu #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman no way home #peter parker x silk!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker fanfiction #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home

[thealtoduck]

A little party never killed nobody

Peter Parker x BlackCat!Male!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, reader is a little gay fuckboy, drinking, Peter loses his virginity to reader, bottom reader…

Summary: Spider-Man and the Black Cat unknowingly crosses paths at a house party…

(A/n: This fic dosen’t really mention that Y/n is Black Cat but i see it as the same canon as my other Black Cat fics)

——

Y/n and his friends walked around the school handing out invitations for the house party they were holding to celebrate… well Y/n didn’t know what they were celebrating… he only knew that it would include alchohol and the possibilty of sex, which was enough for him to be in on it.

He walked into the lunch hall and started handing out invites to some people he knew. He then spotted a mostly empty table where only three people sat. There was Michelle Jones aka Mj, Y/n’s lab partner and kind off friend, she constantly told him she didn’t like him but the two still occaisionally hung out.

Then there was Ned Leeds, the excitable ray of sunshine. And last but not least the king of nerds himself Peter Parker, despite the introduction Y/n was actually quite fond of Peter as the two had been forced to work together on several assigntments. So Y/n with the little moral compass he had told his friends to leave Peter, Ned and Mj alone while being douchebags.

”Yo Mj, me and my friends are having a party at Cory’s place, you and your friends are invited to come if you want” you said cooly. ”They aren’t my friends” Mj said in her regular non-caring voice. ”Whatever they’re still invited” you told her and walked off to hand out more ivitations.

”The most popular guy in school just invited us to a party” Ned whispered excitedly to Peter. ”Do i have to go? It’s not my thing” Peter told Ned. ”Come on Peter, it’s only one night and we can leave if you find it boring” Ned tried to convince him.

*Time Skip*

The smell of alcohol was strong in the air as Y/n made his way through the crowd of drunk teenagers, someone definetely put to much vodka in the punch (which you didn’t mind). He walked around looking for something to do (or someone).

He then saw Peter Parker sitting alone on the couch looking bored checking his phone quite often and occaisionally taking a sip from his cup. He was obviously not having a great time, which stirred up some odd feeling in you, was this what people called pity? you thought to yourself and walked over to Peter.

”Hey, you liking the party?” you asked the brown eyed boy. ”Oh… Yeah, i-it’s great” Peter said unconvincingly. ”You’re a terrible liar” you deadpanned and took a sip from your cup shuddering a bit from the alcohol. ”Come on, we’ll go somewhere more quiet” you said and led Peter away from the crowded room.

He was led through a less crowded hallway in to an empty bedroom, Peter stood still in the doorframe. ”Relax i’m not gonna try to seduce you” Y/n told him. Peter entered and sat down on the beds left corner. Y/n then locked the door and turned to Peter and asked ”You don’t mind if i lock the door, do you? Don’t want any people coming in here trying to make babies if you catch my drift”.

”Yeah, it’s cool” Peter answered and you walked over and sat down on the bed by the headboard bringing your feet up to the bed (shoes still on). ”So honestly, what do you think about the party?” you asked. ”It’s not really my thing, i only came because Ned wanted to” Peter said simply.

”Well now you’re hanging with me so move up here we’re watching something on Neflix” you said Peter sat down beside you at the headboard as you turned on the tv in the room and started scrolling through the movies and shows. You put on Brooklyn 99 and the two of you started watching.

The two of you started talking during the show and you had a lot of fun, you told him about some crazy things you’d done while drunk and he talked about some of his favorite movies and shows, which you found adorable since he seemed really passionate about them.

And soon enough after a bit more drinking the two of you were making out. Peter’s hand slipped down to your crotch and he felt the bulge in your pants. He quickly pulled it away and whispered ”Sorry, i should have asked first”. ”Don’t worry it’s okay you can touch more than that if you want” you told the nervous boy.

You then unbuckled your pants and pulled them down your legs revealing your boxers. Peter started doing the same and was left in his boxers as well. ”So, how do you wanna do this?” you asked. ”Uhh, i’ve never done this before so i’ll let you lead” Peter answered a bit shyly.

”You sure you wanna go through with this” you asked him to make sure he was fully in it. Peter nodded. You climbed in between Peter’s legs and pulled down his underwear slightly revealing his hardend dick. You wrapped your mouth around his cock and started moving up and around it.

Peter let out a moan as you worked your magic around his dick. You ran your tounge around his big pole. ”Uh yeah, that feels good”. His dick was so deep in your mouth you almost gagged.

You then brought your mouth off his cock and asked ”Wanna go even further than this?”. Peter nodded eagerly and watched as you started taking your shirt off as well as your boxers leaving you fully naked in front of Peter. Peter gazed slightly at your cock.

Peter followed your lead and took off his shirt showing you his hot abs. ”Wanna top or bottom?” you asked patiently. ”I’ll top if your okay with it?” he suggested and you nodded. You laid down on your back and lifted your legs and revealed your previously used hole for the virgin boy.

Peter trailed his finger over it slightly and then slowly started pushing in a finger to stretch you out. ”Yeah, fuck” you swore as you felt the familiar sensation of someone entering you with their finger.

Peter then added another finger and started working it in and out of you faster. You moaned as Peter then added one last finger into you. ”Does that feel good?” he asked.

”Yeah” you moaned pleasurbly. Then the time had come. You were ready for the real thing. Peter pulled down his boxers fully and placed his dick by your enterance and started pushing in. You moaned as Peter’s huge member filled you up.

Peter moaned as well from the new sensation around his cock. He let you get used to his size before he started moving in and out of you with a slow pace. He flooded you in a pleasure you had rarely felt before. Was this what it was like being fucked by someone you actually liked.

You had never moaned like this before it felt loud and uncontrolled, like the person going down the hallway to the bathroom would defintely hear you getting pleasured by the king of nerds.

Peter was also feeling the pleasure of the situation he felt so in control and almost powerful as he saw your face twist in ecstacy with your hole wrapped around his cock. The thought that he the schools nerd could make Y/n, the hottest guy and biggest fuckboy in school moan uncontrollably as he plowed into him made him feel good.

Peter started pushing into Y/n faster and more roughly, which made Y/n think ”damn, he’s pretty fucking good for a virgin”. Though he could have never said that cause the boy who was laying on his back taking dick was in too much bliss to form a full sentence.

Peter’s thrust started growing more sloppy and you knew it was time so you managed to get out the words ”Cum inside me” and with less then a second to spare your hole was flooded with cum.

”Suck me off” you said while running your hand up and down your length. Peter listend and dove on to your cock with his mouth and moved up and down it. You then felt your toes curl as you released your seed into his mouth. Peter then climbed further up the bed and started making out with you again and you could taste your cum in his mouth.

After the best fuck in your life you then moved away from Peter’s lips. ”Can we rest now? I’m a bit tired” you yawned. ”Of course, Y/n” Peter said and wrapped his arms around you. ”Y/n, i’m glad you were my first” he whispered. ”It was a nice cherry to pop” you replied tiredly and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep on Peter’s sweaty bare chest.

#peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #x male reader #male reader #spider man x male reader #spiderman x male reader #x male!reader #x male reader smut #male reader smut #avengers x male reader #avengers x male!reader #mcu x male reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x male!reader #peter parker x male reader smut

[spicysagittarius]

MJ comes home after a really frustrating day, but thankfully, her best friend and roommate Peter knows exactly what she needs to relax 😏

This one's a little long, apologies!

“And then..oh, fuck, Pete, get this, then he said that Marcus wasn’t gonna get marked down, because it wasn’t him who’d dealt with the customer, even though she’s his regular and his mistake! I mean, how fucking ridiculous is that, right?” MJ groans, her head in Peter’s pillow as he rubs her shoulders. 

“So ridiculous,” he muses. He really, really wishes he could focus right now, because it’s totally invalidating and rude not to, but…she’s wearing those shorts again. The ones made of thin cotton, the ones that don’t exactly cover her ass, and he’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood with how much he’s trying to steer his focus away from it. He’s seen these shorts plenty of times; they do live together. He’s just never seen them this up close before. Just a brush of his hand away…

No. He can’t. And if he doesn’t manage to act normal right now, she’s gonna notice he’s…

“Peter?” Shit. She’s stopped ranting. He’s such a goddamn perv. Not to mention an awful best friend. 

“What? Oh, sorry.” He tries to laugh it off casually, resuming his motions on her upper back. After a few seconds, he can tell he’s hit a point of tension because she fucking whimpers. The noise almost makes him jump. His cock throbs unfairly in his boxer briefs. 

“Fuck, that’s so good…” MJ mumbles. He wants to hear that sound again. 

He manages to shut the logical side of his brain off, no matter how stupid that might end up being, he doesn’t care. He’s just…he needs to…

Carefully, he shifts his hands a little lower and rubs deeply into her tense muscles near her spine. She sighs. “Pete, can you get under my shirt?” What? But before he has time to react, she’s reaching behind her to pull the bottom hem of her t-shirt up, up, all the way to her shoulder blades until the bare skin of her back is revealed to him. In plain sight. Oh, he could so die right now. 

“Uh…yep. Yes. I can.” And then he’s touching bare Michelle skin and she’s mewling again and he might be totally off and literally such a pervert but he swears he can smell her? What else could that be? It’s not her perfume, or either of their sweat, or the lavender candle she’s lit in the kitchen past his bedroom door. No, it’s her. He can just tell. And she’s…she’s wet.

“Lower. Go lower.” It’s a sigh that falls from her lips and he doesn’t think he’s been this hard in his entire life. But even still, he manages to move his hands until they’re gripping her bare hips, just above the waistband of those fucking shorts. 

And that’s when she startles him even more by saying: “Shit, I’m so turned on.” He hears her exhale in a laugh. “That’s normal, right? Sorry to make it weird.”

“No, no, not at all, that’s…that’s normal. I think.” He breathes, hoping he sounded convincing. 

She turns her head to the side to meet his eyes. “Okay.” Her eyes remain on his as he continues his movements, even when she moans again and curses under her breath, she never breaks eye contact. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. The tension is so thick he feels suffocated, but maybe…maybe, he doesn’t mind. 

Yeah, he definitely doesn’t mind, he decides about five minutes later when the shorts have been flung across the room and he’s slipping his fingers into her lacy panties to find that she’s just as wet as he figured. His spidey senses haven’t failed him yet. Michelle’s whining and spreading her legs even wider for him, grazing her hand across the tent in his gym shorts. 

He’s even more sure of it when, another five minutes later, she’s tightening around his fingers as she falls off the edge, sobbing his name in release. 

He doesn’t give her much time to recover. He should feel bad, and maybe he would, if she didn’t smell so fucking sweet, if he wasn’t aching with the need to taste her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s really sorry. 

But most of him is just focused on yanking her panties to the side and burying his face between her legs, revelling in her shocked squeal and shuddering moan when he sucks her clit into his mouth. Between whimpers, she manages an amused, “Well, this is one way to…fuck..to destress.” 

She’s goddamn right. And it’s decidedly the most effective. 

#petermj #spideychelle #petermj fic #blurbs #petermj smut #peter parker x michelle jones

[slut-for-zendaya]

ok so.......................

im a writer and i write about

characters

mj

peter parker

natasha romanoff

kate bishob

wanda maximoff

celebs

zendaya

tom holland

andrew garfield

scarlet johanson

florence pugh

hailey stenfield

i can make exceptions but those who i mainly write about

i write smut sometimes but do not expect a lot anyways i need sugestions

please help meeeeeeee

honestly u will find me mostly writing about zendaya

#mj x reader #zendaya #michelle jones #mj x y/n #peter x reader #peter x mj #marvel #smut #peter x y/n #zendaya x reader #tom holland #celeberity reader #jenifer lawrence #kate bishop #yelna #natasha romanoff #scarlet johansson #dylan o'brian x reader #florence pugh #hailey steinfeld #andrew garfield #wanda maximoff #loki fanfic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark