#*rubs hands together* lesgooo
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❝ A title is all I am to you. Don't pretend otherwise. ❞ (Idril and Maeglin for the dramaaaa)
Inbox Answered---
--- He would never understand his own feelings toward her, but her words cut through him like a knife. Brow furrowed, his breath was heavy in his lungs, heart battering away in his chest. Idril was speaking to him, but the words coming from her were just. . . Wrong.
Titles? Whatever made her think he cared about that? He was Lord of the House of the Mole, which was more than he had ever expected. After all, his father had told him since he was capable of understanding speech that none of his kin would accept him. But Turgon had recognized him, given him power, a voice in his council, and asked his opinions and trusted his perception. He had more than he could have ever desired.
Except for her, of course. He could not understand that either, she seemed determined to dislike him, no matter what he tried.
"Titles are technicalities. A word used to convey respect, and quickly taken away on the whim of fate. It is something to gain or something to lose." He approached her cautiously, unnerved by his own desire for her, yet he lowered his voice all the same. "It is not your title I crave, Lady Idril, but your spirit, your soul, the freedom of your laugh and the cleverness in your eyes. They are worth more than any title anyone could bestow."
@pxnxply
#:: muse :: lord of the mole ::#:: inbox answered :: maeglin ::#:: idril :: pxnxply ::#*rubs hands together* lesgooo#maeglin :: verse :: son of a curse
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black beauty. john wick x fem!reader. smut. fluff. unprotected sex on a couch (it’s big and comfortable). missionary. praise, oh god. established rp. john the loving husband. 1.5k words.
summary. john comes home to you after a long day, only to find out you missed him just as much as he missed you ;)
a/n. first ever full fic lesgooo. feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! 💌
the moonlight shone through the panel glasses of the house you and john now shared together. for john, this house was nothing but a concrete construction — lifeless, dull, and lonely. just a place where he could eat, shower, and sometimes sleep, if he could return before sunrise. ever since you came into his life, the house was now home to him, a comfort place where his lover awaited him with open arms and a heart full of lust and desire.
you were on the couch, tucked tightly under the blankets. you must have fallen asleep while waiting for john again: a constant occurrence. but you didn't mind, not at all. how could you? he was the best man out there, your favorite person in the whole word, so devoted to you. you would wait an eternity for him if it meant you would be together in the end.
the sound of an approaching car accompanied by a lock turn woke you up. you rubbed your eyes slightly, hoping to get some sense of time and place after the nap before a mild panic seized through your body, but quickly vanished when you realized it could only be john. no one in their right or even wrong mind would dare to break into the infamous baba yaga’s house.
john sighs heavily as he closes the door behind him, being relieved that he has finally made it home to you. he took in his surroundings, the moonlight casting pale and ghastly shades — the only light in the living room. his eyes then locked on your sleepy figure covered in blankets — the only light in his life.
“oh, sweetheart…” his tired and hoarse voice echoed as he approached you slowly, stopping in front of the couch, looking down at you. “you didn’t have to stay up for me.”
“can’t sleep without you,” you turn your head up, looking at him with your doe eyes before moving your hands up to reach his neck. he cranes his body down to hug you, hands wrapping around your waist and lifting you up. he turns both of you around before sitting down on the coach with you straddling his lap.
his hands still resting on your lower back, he casts a glance at your face, the lamp illuminating your beautiful features. his look is so gentle and loving instead of his usual cold exterior - one he always carries around others, but never with you.
“i missed you,” he whispers in the dark, one of his hands brushing the hair out of your face. you smiled softly before his lips crushed into yours, kissing you so tenderly, so gently, as if he was afraid you would break. you return the kiss while your hands find the end of his soft raven hair to play with.
“missed you too…so much,” you say in between. there is a soft groan at the back of his throat as he deepens the kiss, sliding his hands under your shirt, his calloused fingers sending shivers down your spine. as your lips move in unison, john becomes more passionate, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, earning a soft moan from you, and pulling you closer to him.
you break the kiss only to catch your breath when his lips start kissing your jawline. you move you head back, giving him more access to your neck where he is leaving red bite marks and bruises. john moves his hands from your waist, pulling your shirt off, cursing to himself when he realizes you weren’t wearing a bra. you got off him for a second to quickly get rid of your shorts, only panties covering your body now. your cheeks flush due to bareness of your body, all exposed to him, in contrast to his full suit.
right when you were about to sit back in his lap, he flipped you onto the couch, towering over you. john takes a moment to admire you, lips reaching to your collarbone and planting a kiss there. he continues to plant soft kisses all over your body, hands roaming just about everywhere.
“so goddamn beautiful,” he whispers between the kisses, his beard tickling your soft skin, making sure to worship every inch of your body — like he always does. he always told you you were a goddess. and he would worship you like one. you let out several moans under his touch, unable to control your voice, eyes sparkling at the thought of what you were about to do.
john tugs the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding it down your legs, moments before it joins the pile of clothes long forgotten on the floor. he kisses your lips again, more urgently this time, more messier, hungrier.
“look at you…so perfect, so flawless,” he murmured, his eyes shamelessly roaming all over your nude body, your every curve — so vulnerable and trusting for him.
you move your hands to his trousers, clumsy fingers unbuckling his belt, letting them fall loose, visible bulge through his underwear making your stomach squirm with excitement. you quickly tug his underwear down, letting his dick sprang free, tip glistering with pre-cum. you didn’t have the time to undress the rest of him when john did it himself, watching as you occupy yourself by gliding your fingers down to your folds.
what a sight to behold, he thought to himself.
what he didn’t know is that you were thinking the exact same thing looking up at his body. all six feet of him completely naked for you, his toned muscles and bulky arms, scars and decades old wounds making your head dizzy.
you loved every inch of him. he was perfect to you, although he would never admit that to himself.
“no, darling. let me make you feel good,” john took your hands and pinned them behind your head with his one hand. his other hand slowly replacing yours and moving to your folds, fingers lazily drawing circles on your clit, his head now buried in the valley between your nude breasts, kissing and sucking your soft skin.
“john…”you moan at the sensation, falling your head back on the couch. he looks up at you, his dark eyes boring into yours. he sets your pinned hands free when he shifts back a little, aligning himself in front of your entrance. his one hand was now readjusted on your thigh, gently holding it while his other hand held yours. he always did that when you were making love. it was a silent gesture, a sign of affection — love, lust, trust.
you both grunted when he slowly entered you, inch by inch, careful not to hurt you as you took a minute to stretch and get used to his sheer size. once you gave him a little nod, john started thrusting into you, in and out, keeping a steady pace. you wrapped your legs around his torso, allowing him a deeper access.
as his thrusts become more violent and urging, a groan escapes his lips as he watches him disappearing in and out if you, taking the scenery in front of him. your mouth slightly open, your hooded eyes struggling to focus, your desperate moans filling the room, breasts bouncing with each thrust. this sight alone could send him over the edge.
john hits your sensitive spot every single time, having memorized exactly how your body works, making you produce all kinds of sounds. you grip the couch, the soft material clenching under your fingers as your eyes start to water at how good he’s fucking you.
“don’t-” you fail to form a sentence, which instead came out as a whimper, as your pleasure was nearing you, making your mind clouded and brain all fogged.
“what was that, sweetheart? couldn’t hear you,” john replied to your plea, simultaneously moving closer to you.
“i- fuck!” you mewled when he took your one breast into his mouth while his hand was toying with your clit. he licked your nipple, gently sucking and swirling on it with his skilled tongue, before moving to give the same attention to you other breast. you were now fucked into oblivion, almost unconscious, goosebumps seizing your whole body, eyes rolling back as he kept pleasuring you in different ways.
he was delighted to know he was making you feel those things, and he would tease you about it. he slowed down his movements, not giving you the satisfaction you needed yet. “use your words, darling.”
you sigh frustrated, needing him to move faster. “please…i need you, john. need you so bad, please.”
what could he do if not comply?
he continued his voluptuous rhythm, your previous pleasure building up again. you move your hand to his back for additional support, leaving red scratch marks all over, earning a groan from him.
“there you go. doing so good for me, angel,” he was dangerously close too, nearly unable to hold himself, but for him, your pleasure was a priority.
with few final thrusts, you scream out his name so loud — almost pornographically — as the waves of orgasm wash over you, vibrating through your whole body. john follows, not far behind. with a particular loud groan he spills his release inside of you, head falling back with a few strands of hair stuck on his forehead.
after you both ride out your highs, john moves both of you so you find yourself straddling him again. he tugs you closer to him with his arms draped around your body, drawing small soothing circles on your back. your arms crossed behind his neck, you let your head fall on his chest, buried in the crook of his neck while his cock was still buried in you.
you both stay in that position for a minute longer, silently indulging in each other's embrace before exchanging i love yous and slow kisses, moonlight shining over your sore figures.
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