Goddess of the Violet Twilight ⋆˚࿔ Chapter 13 - Living for her to ignite
Fic Chapter List ⋆˚࿔ Ao3 Link
← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →
Pairing: Peter Steele x OFC (or f!reader)
Word Count: 1873
Summary: More push, pull, pain and pleasure. And the beginnings of a bratty attitude from Peter.
Content: NSFW + MDNI! Smut with some plot/fluff/angst, femdom x service sub - more tags on Ao3
Note: Hi everyone! I'm sorry for the delay. I have been employed, which is a terribly inconvenient thing for a fic writer to be. If you ever want to make fic requests, message me (within reason) or check in, you may. Obvi I just ask that you be respectful. <3 Thank you for reading!
She took a step back. Peter’s face was flushed, his hair clinging to the moisture on his broad chest as it rose and fell. In his nakedness, she could almost see the blood pumping through his veins, the way it rushed to his cock and to his face in anticipation. His arms were placed behind him on the bed, and his thighs were wide open. It was so natural to him, to be so pliant and submissive for her. His body fell exactly where she wanted it, like his muscle memory knew the steps to their dance. Like it was begging for what he needed before it even crossed his mind.
It almost softened something in her, to see him so open and defenseless. She thought about him pressed to her chest, whispering words of worship as she forced orgasm after orgasm out of him. That menacing, giant man, who she only saw as her sweet, obedient, pathetic Peter.
But she couldn’t miss out on this opportunity to twist his vulnerability into her own pleasure and amusement. She couldn’t leave him hanging, the poor thing was already so worked up waiting for his punishment.
She sat down on her desk chair and parted her legs, using one finger to slowly draw her skirt up. Her fishnets had been revealed only in small flashes throughout the night, as she sat in his car, and when he pulled her into his lap. It was a peep show that presented itself naturally without any effort on her part. Now she was finally revealing her legs to him, inch by inch as he sat frozen across from her.
As her skirt pooled on her hips, Peter bit back a pained moan. Her tights were ripped open at the crotch, and her pussy was suddenly exposed to him. Now his eyes were locked onto it, and she could tell he was running through the events of the night in his mind, wondering how close he’d been to touching it.
—
“That’s good, just stay there… open your mouth,” said, leaning forward. She put two fingers on his tongue, rolling them back and forth until they were covered with saliva. His tongue twitched involuntarily under her fingers, resisting the urge to spring into action and enclose her in his mouth. Her skin felt so hot, the benign touch making his hair stand on edge. He held back, he couldn’t risk making another mistake that brought him further still from his salvation.
She leaned back, and spread her pussy, and started to slowly circle her clit with her slick fingers. The motion was hypnotic, he felt drunk just looking at it.
Her breath hitched. “Fuck, so sensitive,” she said under her breath.
She dipped a finger just inside her pussy and then traced it up and down. He could hear how wet she was. He met her eyes, and they burned into him. He was the one who made her that wet. He should be the one to devour her, to make her cum, to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
Her hand moved excruciatingly slowly against her skin. She would take far too long to cum at this pace. She was doing it wrong, he thought. He gripped the bed harder. She dipped two fingers inside of herself slowly.
“Fuck, your fingers would feel so much better,” she teased. She pressed against her clit with her palm. “Your tongue would feel sooo much better.”
Peter groaned, his frustration building.
“If you just…” he started before he realized it and cut himself off.
“Just what?” she said,
“Just let me, take care of you.” She laughed, and the sound caused a pang of shame that went straight to his cock.
“Do you want me to stop? Or maybe blindfold you… Would that help you control yourself?”
“No… no. I can control myself.” he said quickly, sitting up straighter to help him concentrate.
“Good,” she said, lifting her dress over her head. Her skin was so radiant and soft, her breasts spilling out, nipples hard. She took one breast in her hand and pinched the nipple roughly, but the hand on her pussy still moved painfully slowly.
His thighs opened just barely wider, his hips lifting into the air just barely as his gaze stayed fixed on her pussy. She moaned.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful.” she said, “So pathetic for me. Tell me how badly you want it.”
Peter could feel himself flush from head to toe. “I need it, I need to feel you, I need to taste you.”
“I know you do.” She said, “Just stay with me… Just let go.” Peter met her eyes. They were full of a familiar hunger, but with an edge of something else. Something possessive, but soft. Patient, and almost reassuring, like a teacher leading a student through a lesson.
“Please…” he said, his voice low and pitiful, his hips thrusting subtly against the air. His cock was throbbing with tension. Her fingers stuttered slightly at the sound of his voice. She nodded.
“Come closer now,” she said. Peter was on his feet in seconds, his cock bobbing painfully.
“No,” she said. He froze in place. “Not like that.”
He looked into her eyes, and she smiled. He understood, and slowly sank to his knees.
“Crawl to me.” Her voice gave him chills, relaxed but brimming with gentle authority.
Peter was all goosebumps and guilty desire as he clumsily and slowly crawled towards her, his limbs too bulky to be graceful, too overwhelmed with desire to be self-conscious. She hummed, half moaning, half laughing as she watched him.
“Good, Peter. So good for me.” Her voice was condescendingly sweet in a way that made his stomach twist.
She tapped her thigh with two fingers. “Lay here,”
Peter rested his head on her thigh, covering it completely, as he watched her slowly toy with her pussy. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, he could smell her, he could almost, almost taste her. His mouth fell open against her skin.
“Are you drooling?” she said, “Aww, it’s ok. You can drool on it.” She took a fistful of Peter’s hair and yanked it to position him over her pussy. The pain sent a wave of pleasure through him. Peter opened his mouth, watching as a trail of spit fell onto her pussy. She moaned, spreading it over her, her fingers speeding up slightly.
“Do you want to taste it?” she said, her voice less steady now.
“Please,” he gasped.
She lifted her fingers, wet with her arousal, and stuck them into his mouth again, this time pushing them further into the back of his throat. His tongue encircled them greedily.
“Thank you” he mumbled against her.
“Are you ready for it now?” she asked, her breath heavy. “Go on, beg for it.”
“Please, please. Fuck. I just need to taste you. I need to make you cum, please. Please. I’m sorry for teasing you, you can do whatever you want to me. I don’t care if you don’t touch me at all.”
She cut him off by taking her fistful of his hair and pressing his face against her pussy.
“Please… please. Let me make you cum.” He continued, his low voice vibrating against her skin. His vision was nearly white with desire.
PSA to fic readers, it is so hard to freak a fic writer out with your comments. we are just as crazy about the fic as you are.
tell me you love it. tell me it made you slam your laptop shut. tell me you brought it up at your college lecture about kink. key smash in all caps. quote the passage that made you think. i promise, we’ll love it.
we spend hours thinking about it, writing it, editing it. there is no such thing as over enthusiasm when you’re talking about our fics to us. we are sooooo weird about them, i assure you. you are just matching my freak. the freak bar is already set so high. feel no anxiety about enjoying something and letting the creator know.
