yesitsmewhataboutit

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

to anyone missing my writing please know i am also missing my writing

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

I’m alive guys

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Im gooning to all of this

Glad to be of assistance

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 🫧

Parings → Merman! Tom Holland x Mermaid! Reader

Warnings → Mermaid AU, fluff, angst, talking about private parts, nakedness, making out, SMUT!! 18+.

Summary → Tom and Y/n, two rebel, curious mermaids, explore the human world. Y/n secretly loves Tom, but he’s oblivious until she confesses her feelings. Becoming mates in mermaid culture, they navigate romance, friendship, and adventure, keeping their human escapades a secret while embracing their lifelong bond.

Completed ✓

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Honestly I just wanna read as much omegaverse as possible and sit quietly

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

So I’m considering writing a romantasy

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

I’m alive yall

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

SENSORY DEPRIVATION — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader | established relationship | p in v: cowgirl | “blindfold” sensory deprivation | sexual content.

“The doctor said you’ll be fine just as long as we wait it out.” you remind PETER PARKER who has to be led by your hand through your shared apartment. He shuffles through the narrow passageway of the closing door, and fumbles through the hall with his fingertips grazing the wall. He trips up on some shoes that aren’t put away, and you catch him around his bicep, propping him back up with your body. “Woah, there.” you exclaim.

“When they tell you not to look at bright lights they sure mean it. Guess I was lucky it didn’t burn permanently into my retinas.” he thinks aloud with a sheepish scoff in spite of himself, letting you lock the door behind you as you guide him to the couch. “Next time I won’t make direct eye contact with Electro as he’s powering up no matter how sparkly he is.” You chuckle at his quip through your nose, turning his body so he can feel the furniture against the backs of his calves, signaling him to sit, so he does.

“Makes sense now why prey animals fall victim to bioluminescence, huh?” you reply back, offering up some banter that stretches that amused and dimpled grin onto his handsome features. He can’t look up at you—not like usual—staring straight ahead with his palms set on his knees.

“You callin’ me a prey animal?”

“Who’s temporarily blind because of the pretty lights, Peter?”

“Touché.”

You sigh from his verbal antics, unable to stay quiet even in a situation where most people would panic. His spidey sense did alright to get him out of that fight, but it doesn’t help much when he’s about to run into a wall—that’s where you come in. You round him to get to the kitchen, collecting some tap water in a glass.

“You know, when you said you were going to take care of me…” Peter begins, twisting his spine so he can project his words to you over his shoulder. “I wasn’t imagining you taking advantage of my misfortune and abusing me in some verbal beatdown.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” you chastise, rolling your eyes. It makes sense he’d be a little sore after today, maybe you should take it easier on him. You of all people know how much he hates being put out of commission. Glass in hand, you return, picking up his wrist to fix the water against his palm. Gratefully, he takes a swig. “So, in what ways were you imagining me taking advantage of you?” you continue the conversation, though you notice how flirtatious your tone comes off only after you’ve spoken.

Peter swallows thickly, and licks the moisture off his upper lip. You watch the motion from the side, that vacant gaze of his still stuck on the direction in front of him. “Well, for starters, we wouldn’t have any clothes on.”

“Oh, Peter…” you sigh, bouncing on him mere moments later. Completely bare, and soaking wet, you were quick to grant his wish, riding him at a second’s notice. Thick fingers tightly dig into the flesh of your hips, guiding them from his position underneath you. Blank eyes stare off into the ceiling, twitching as they narrow when the pleasure gets to be too much. “Can’t believe you wanted this after a day like today. You’re supposed to be resting.” your breathless tone doesn’t convey any serious admonishment at all, and it tugs a crooked grin onto his lips.

“But I’m so relaxed, honey. Doin’ such a good job, makin’ me feel so good. Better than a prescription. ‘Doctor would be proud.” he praises, husky and rushed. The delicate space between his brows pinch as his tongue forms over his upper lip, concentrating in increasing the pace. He overpowers whatever control you had, using his strength that far surpasses your own to hasten your hips. You don’t think he’s relaxed at all, he’s certainly not resting, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Every inch of him sheathed inside you, it’s hard to think about anything other than getting that tip to brush your spongy spot.

Your face twists, obscene sounds pouring out of you because of his actions. Showing off his taut body putting in the work for you always gets you going, dragging your nails down his pretty and flexed abdomen like a reward. A low and torturous groan cries out from deep in his throat because of it—like that’s exactly what he needed—and it sends a powerful shudder right through you. Hands slide up to your torso, squeezing your flesh as he lifts you, and fucks up into you instead. Your tits to the air bounce with each mad sheath, and you can’t help but be loud, keens echoing throughout the apartment.

He knows what you look like—he knows—every intimate and dirty detail. How you must look riding him, what expression you’re making on that cute face, what your body is doing to him right now… every secret mole and birthmark, where your hands are, how your tits jiggle, everything, he can picture it. It’s all in his head and just out of reach. When he opens his eyes, it’s completely without focus, staring up at the ceiling while he hears your pleasured cries as music to his ears.

He kneads your body in his hands, trying to release some of that base desire by molding your skin like clay. “God, I wish I could look at you right now, baby.” he confesses, and he means it with every fiber of his being.

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

rain - spider-man / peter parker

summary: sweet sweet spider-loving. MINORS DNI

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

word count: 5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“thanks anyway, yuri. gotta go.”

“um, ok—“

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

you.

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

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

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

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

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

god her nipples are hard.

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

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

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

“what?”

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

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

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

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

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

i left my dress at your house :,(

you furrowed your eyebrows, responding promptly.

your dress honey? which one?

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

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

where’d you leave it babe?

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

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

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

i think im gonna keep it

you keep that i keep the dress

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

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

thank you my dear!!

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

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

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

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

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

my hair…

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

no. better use hairspray.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i deserve that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re being so mean,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“peter!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you coming?”

“coming!”

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Hi guys🙁 I miss yall so much

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Shouto sleeps like a log and there is no budging him once he succumbs to slumber, you of all people know this because it's a nightly struggle of you trying to twist yourself around his stiff frame so you could snuggle up to him a bit more comfortably.

Clearly he doesn't mean for it to happen, and every morning when you playfully whine about your sore muscles– due to this weird habit of his, he gives you a genuine apologetic look, an almost pained one, before pulling you closer to himself and kissing all over your face, neck and shoulders, while promising to do his best so it wouldn't happen again.

It's is easier said than done though, and you know it, since he's a fast sleeper who passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow, but it's still nice to see him try for your sake, and it makes you love him even more than you already do.

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

The way it’s 5 in the morning and I JUST found out Tessa died…… sigh

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Shouto didn't have to reveal his relationship status for his friends to figure out he was in one.

Their first clue was that little phone charm hanging from his device cutely, it was colorful in an almost childish way, opposing his style and personality but he showed it off proudly.

Another thing that peaked their interest was the mouthwatering bento box he started bringing to work with him instead of whatever horrid concoctions he used to make for himself, he cannot cook to save his life, so there must be someone else who's now taking care of that.

Besides all that, he actually started smiling more and his face was no longer expressionless as it used to be, especially when on the phone with a mysterious someone, speaking softly and ending the call with a quiet 'I love you' when he thought no one was listening.

However, they didn't need to ask about this special someone's identity for them to easily figure out it was you.

He wasn't as secretive as he thought he was, always betrayed by his lingering gaze on you, and the light shade of pink warming up his face as he loses his confidence while speaking to you, he even seemed unaware of constantly tracking your whereabouts.

So when you showed up one day, hand in hand with him, all smiles and eagerness to reveal the happy news, you were mind blown to receive an excited but unsurprised congratulation of:

_ "Yes! We knew it!"

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Please I’m desperate 🥲

Someone who reads and/or has read Thorne Of Glass I need your help🧌🧌🧌

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Someone who reads and/or has read Thorne Of Glass I need your help🧌🧌🧌

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

The new fic alr flopping lol💀

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind

Alpha!Shoto x Omega!Reader

➤ Part 2 to this fic - Shoto has no memory of what happened, or what he did (u can find request in part 1 comments)

Warning ⚠️: injury talk

»»——⍟——««A/n: I feel like Todoroki is OOC here…. The title sucks and I feel like the fic sucks. Why am I posting it? Who knows 😭😭but ig maybe yall will like it

Omegaverse Key

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̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ Requests open　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

You spend the rest of the night there with Todoroki. When he's asleep, you manage to slip away to put the groceries away and clean up the blood from his face and hands. By the morning, he's still out cold. You call his agency to tell them he won't be in and start making breakfast, preparing to wake him.

You walk to the couch and kneel down next to Shoto, putting your hand on his shoulder and shaking him a bit. "Sho. Sho, wake up," you say gently.

He groans, his eyes opening and chest rising as he takes a deep breath. Shoto tries to turn his head and look at you, but the second he moves, you can see the slight flitch in his face, his hand rising to his shoulder, feeling the bandage over his scent gland.

"What happened?"

"Your scent glands got infected. Do you remember yesterday at all? Or how it may have happened?"

Shoto groans. "That's the last time I use that stupid detergent from Kaminari."

"What?" you laugh.

"There was a... incident after a fight, involving some weirdly constructed slime, some dirt, and flower,” he mumbles. “Anyway, long story short, I had to wash my suit at the office, and Kaminari offered a special mix of detergent he uses. Considering his "special mix" of slime was part of how I got into that situation, it was a poor decision on my part. Must’ve had a reaction.”

You can't help but snicker a little. "Oh, Shoto." You shake your head and stand. "Come on, I made breakfast. Let's go to our room."

Shoto spends the day recovering in bed. While he's taking a nap, you begin washing the dishes from breakfast. In your own world you don't hear him walking up behind you. "Hey, Love," he says, resting his hand around your waist and leaning on your back, a normal action for him. Before you can respond, though, you feel the slight surge of pain jolt through you, him unknowingly touching the bruise on your back, making you jolt away from him.

You try to play it off, turning around and smiling at him. "Hey, how are you feeling?" You lean up to give him a kiss, but he backs away, a frown on his face.

"What was that? Are you ok?"

You turn around, shrugging like it's nothing. "Yeah. I'm fine." Shoto stands behind you, watching you closely. He raises his hand, gently touching you again. You don't react as much, but he notices how your body tightens up a little. "Y/n-"

"Shoto, I'm fine-" you begin, turning around to face him again, and as you do, you hit a glass off the counter, it shattering on the floor. "Oh, sorry!" you say, putting your hand out so he doesn't get cut.

"Y/n, be careful!" Shoto says, reaching out his hand to help you over it. You take his hand, stepping over the glass and grabbing the broom.

You and Shoto being cleaning, you'd like to believe it really was an accident and not a subconscious way to distract Shoto from your reaction. You knew he'd feel crushed if he saw the -still fresh and red- marks all over you, and you know he doesn't remember, so you decide to move on and not mention it to him until they're a bit more healed.

Three days later, Shoto is feeling better and heading back to his agency. In the area you work for, your schedule is one week on, and one week off, but the week off is set as only on-call, this's your on-call week.

You end up getting a call around two o'clock, and by the time you're done, you're tired and sore, especially where the claw and teeth marks are, your hero suit having been rubbing against them for hours. When you get home, you shrug off the top of your hero suit, figuring Shoto isn't home yet from the fight you heard he was in earlier in the day.

You stop at the counter in the kitchen, wanting to make a quick snack that you can take with you to the bedroom. You hear shuffling in the hallway, and then a voice. "Y/n." You turn around and smile.

"Oh! Hi, Shoto," you smile. You can make out his figure in the darkness, and you're hoping he can't see you clearly with only the light you turned on over the sink.

You know if he sees you, you'll be busted. You have a tank top on, but it doesn't hide what's on your shoulder.

"Hey! I was just making a snack," you say, turning around and reaching to grab your plate and turn the light off. When you turn back, he's only a few feet from you, and he stops with only inches between you. He takes one hand, taking the plate out of your hand, and at the same time reaching behind you and flicking the light back on. You can only look up at him, as his eyes focus on your shoulder and his hand slowly sets down your plate. "Y/n," he asks lowly.

"Yeah?"

"Who did this to you?"

"Sho, it's nothing," you say, trying to turn and walk away, but getting caught by his hand instinctively flying out, catching your side and again, making you flinch.

Shoto makes a face, his hand dropping away from you. "Let me see."

"Shoto-"

"Let. Me. See." You sigh in defeat, turning around and lifting your shirt. "Are those claw marks, Y/n?" The color in his eyes darkens, the color of an alpha coming out, the telling sign of anger levels rising.

"Yes, but they're not even that deep-"

"Who. Did. This."

You couldn't look at him, you didn't know what to say, how to say they were his claw marks. "They aren't that bad, Sho, it's fine."

"You're bleeding Y/n! How could you say that!"

"It's only sometimes, they're healing. How'd you know?"

"There's been blood on your shirts. It's small, not super noticeable, but not to mention every time I'd get too close or touch a certain spot you flinch. How did it Y/n? These are claw marks, deep claw marks. And a bite, that's frankly too close to your mating mark for my taste. And I know it is not from a fight, that no part of this is from a fight. What happened Y/n?"

You look down at your hands. "You did. Um, you were pretty out of it when Recovery Girl came over. So, to make sure you didn't attack her and stay still, I had you lean over me. You're body reacted automatically, it's really no big deal, Sho." You look up at him, and part of you wishes you hadn't. The anger and darkness in his eyes were replaced with hurt and sadness.

"Y/n, you- why didn't you tell me?" his voice sounds so small, so broken and it nearly breaks you.

"Cause, I knew you would beat yourself up. It's really not that bad."

"Y/n, it could get infected. Why aren't you treating them?" Shoto takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, making you sit and take your shirt off.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," you say as he starts treating the marks on your back.

"It's alright Y/n, just please don't do this again. You need to tell me next time. Accident or not. I thought you were attacked."

You sigh again. Shoto coming around and looking at your face, his eyes meeting yours, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek as he places a kiss on your lips. "I'm sorry, Love. And I promise I'll make this up to you."

"There's really no need. I told you, I'm fine."

No, Y/n. You're my omega and I left marks on you. Lasting marks. I will make this up for you. Promise."

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