#and every time i wiggle it makes her sink toward the middle of the mattress | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovethoery · 3 years

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pairing: nonidol!jeno + fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut! please read at your own risk ♡ also just very soft n fluffy for the most part. it gets a little mean at the end but it’s all consensual and discussed before hand!!! promise.

kinks: slight puppy play, mentions of pegging and strap-ons, dominant reader, submissive jeno, mommy kink, vaginal sex, established relationship, no protection (pls b safe!!), dirty talk, fingering, ♡ big dick jeno ♡, breeding (the reader says not to, but i promise they’ve talked it over and it’s actually okay), mention of pussy eating, name calling?, tummy bulging, drooling.

a/n: i have not been able to stop thinking abt subby puppy jeno... he’s just so good... im not a dom, but for jeno (and mark)? i’ll do anything. this is very much self-indulgent. no i’m not sorry.

jeno’s hips can’t help the way they fuck into your hand, eyes fluttering shut from the feeling. it’s just so good, and he hasn’t gotten his dick wet in months.

“and whose fault is that?” you coo, leaning forward to get in the boy’s face. jeno’s ears are a bright pink, chest and neck beginning to adopt the same hue. he gulps, looking down to where your fingers are wrapping around his length, working him up and down.

“m-mine...” he whispers, mouth parting open as his eyes flutter shut.

“unh-unh. eyes on me, mutt,” you order. jeno’s nothing if not obedient, though, and he opens his eyes quickly, whimpering. “do you wanna fuck mommy?” you can’t miss the way jeno’s eyes light up; it’d be impossible to miss it.

he’s pressed up against the headboard of your shared bed, shirt tossed in a corner somewhere. his jeans are unbuttoned and shoved down messily, boxers still confining most of your boyfriend’s cock. jeno looks an absolute wreck, and you can see the way the thought of being inside your pussy causes him to sink deeper into his fucked out state.

raising a hand, you brush the hair out of his face gently, jeno’s tongue brushing past his lips to wet them. your fingers itch to push past those pretty pillows and make him gag, but you figure you’d save it for later.

“yes or no, angel?”

jeno’s mouth opens wider, then closes. he looks around as if you’re baiting him, but then he speaks softly. “yes...”

“yes what, pup?” your eyes bore into his, daring him to look away when you’re practically dangling a bone in his face—something so sweet and savory. a chance he doesn’t get often.

“yes, mommy,” jeno breathes, eyes wide and borderline innocent. borderline only because you know what he’s really like—desperate, needy, trying everything in his power to keep from breaking any rules you may have set forth tonight. “please let me fuck you...”

the boy beneath you is practically vibrating from the prospect of being inside you once again. he hasn’t been allowed to fuck you as of late due to poor... technique.

“mmm...” you hum, straightening your back to sit up, taller than him; looking down on him like the mutt he is. “do you think you can do a good job? surely with how much mommy’s fucked you, you must’ve learned something, right, puppy?”

jeno whimpers, loud and high in his throat, head moving forward to rest his face in your chest. the boy mouths at your shirt, nuzzling into you. you can’t help but bring your hands to card through his hair, petting him gently. jeno is your most precious boy, after all. “oh, puppy... okay, okay... you can fuck mommy.”

moving off of his lap, you begin to pull your clothes from your body, only to be stopped by jeno. “let me, please...” always such a good boy, you think.

jeno’s fingers tremble when he brings them to the drawstring on your shorts, despite how deft and nimble they typically are. it makes you giggle, laying on your back to allow him to pull the shorts from your legs. he moves slowly, almost like he’s still unsure about it all. you coo, reaching for his wrist. you thumb over the protruding bone, reassuring in your gentle movements. he nods in understanding, spreading your your legs wide to play with your pussy, admiring the way it glistens with your essence.

a sigh slips from the both of you when jeno sinks in his middle finger, and you giggle again. jeno’s eyes snap towards you, making sure he’s doing alright before he’s wiggling the digit carefully. his thumb moves to hook onto your clit, drawing gentle circles. he’s working you up, just like you’d taught him to when you first started having sex.

you moan softly, jeno’s middle finger beginning to crook, searching for your g-spot. your back arches when he finds it, toes curling and the boy between your legs can’t help the way his tongue starts to loll out of his mouth, practically salivating at the display before him. he’s never seen something so beautiful in his entire life, and his cock throbs from where it sits half-way out of his underwear. a blurt of pre-cum spills from the tip and you grin lazily.

“and here i thought i was the only one who was wet... but you’re dripping over there, baby,” you breathe. your voice is pitched up just a little, head tilting back. you miss the way jeno’s eyes flutter shut at your words, embarrassment flooding his bones.

“can i add another finger?”

you nod at his question, praising him for being so good, remembering to ask before doing. you’ve taught him so well, how to be the best boy be can be, and jeno beams under it. he takes the permission granted to him and slips his ringer finger in next, scissoring them wide.

a whine falls from your lips, legs spreading wider as you clench around the digits. “fuck, that’s so good,” you moan, eyes moving to lock on jeno’s. you grin again, teeth on display and jeno whimpers, kissing your bent knee. moving your foot, you press it up against jeno’s cock, biting your lip in satisfaction when jeno’s hips jolt.

“hurry up, puppy. get mommy ready for your big cock so you can fuck her nice and good.”

jeno doesn’t need to be told twice, fingers beginning to speed up after adding a third, pumping in and out of you. you moan louder, head falling back against the mattress. the coil in your abdomen tightens, spring loaded and ready to snap when jeno’s thumb speeds up its circles on your bud. your hips buck up, whines falling from your mouth as you get closer and closer, falling from the edge when jeno takes initiative and gives you that fourth finger, cupping your pussy as he stretches you wide and makes you cum.

it’s with soft whines and pretty cries that you cum, back arched taut like a bowstring and jeno thinks he could cum untouched, just from the sight alone. he has, if he remembers correctly. but not right now. right now, jeno needs to be inside you.

without even thinking, jeno’s quick to pull his hands away, shoving his pants and briefs down enough for his cock to fall out, heavy and thick between his legs.

your eyes are hazy as you look up at him, still coming around from your orgasm when jeno shoves his length into you. your eyes widen, mouth falling open as he starts to thrust, eyes watering from the stretch. “f-fuck!” you cry, back arching again. it burns, but you’re too preoccupied with the pleasure that builds behind your belly button again.

four fingers are never enough when it comes to stretching you out, another reason why you prefer to fuck him, and not the other way around. that, and every time jeno gets his cock in you, it goes like this.

the boy between your legs is practically jackhammering into you, hips moving like a piston into you over and over again. his eyes are closed and his tongue hangs from his mouth, drool coating his chin. his eyes open and close, looking down at you. jeno’s so far into his own headspace, there’s nothing in his eyes but desire and a need to breed you.

“j-jen... puppy, you’ve gotta slow d-down—oh, my god...” you try, hand moving to press against his tummy. it’s damp with sweat, tensing over and over from a mix of exertion and undying pleasure. jeno, despite your pleas, shows no sign of slowing. it feels like he begins to move even faster, balls slapping against against you.

the room is filled with the sound of skin against skin, your pussy squelching loudly as it tries to adjust to jeno’s width.

he stops for a moment, moving the two of you around. jeno moves with your legs tossed over his forearms, pulling you closer and up into his lap. with your feet up in the air, you feel a little burn of shame, not used to being manhandled in this way, though you know in the back of your mind you could easily take back control if needed.

jeno seems to only get rougher, pushing back into with a one-track mind. you know that look when he looks at you again. he wants to cum inside you.

“no,” you warn, hand tangling into his hair and pulling roughly.

jeno leans forward with a cry, face burying itself in your chest, knees pressing to your chest. you groan with the stretch in your thighs and waist, but shake it off, pushing it to the back of your head when you feel soft lips pressing against the base of your throat. teeth scrape across your skin, biting down.

with your legs locked up between your bodies, you have no way of pushing jeno away. it’s not that you don’t want him to cum inside, you do. it’s just... he doesn’t deserve it for the way he broke your rules.

“m-mommy!” jeno’s voice is high pitched, breaking on the end as his thrusts slow, but grow rougher. you can feel the slick between your legs, spilling down over your ass and onto the blankets beneath you. “so g-good... wanna breed you...”

your mouth opens when jeno readjusts, cock pressing up against your walls in the best way possible, pressing up against your sweet spot every single time. your toes curl where they’re propped up in the air, your boyfriend’s body preventing you from lowering them. a cramp starts to pull somewhere in your left thigh, and you contemplate telling jeno as much but when he cries out into your chest, you don’t have it in you to stop him.

“you better pull out, mutt!” you warn him, fingers wrapping around broad shoulders and digging into his skin. pretty crescent moon shapes litter his back, deep, red scratching lining his tanned skin.

your words seem to only spur jeno on, hips picking up pace as he becomes focused on only his pleasure.

“stupid dog,” is all you’re able to get out before jeno’s hips are stuttering, cock bottoming out. the tip kisses your cervix, cum painting your walls, and your own body convulses at the feeling. you moan into the air of your bedroom, pulling jeno even closer. your tummy bulges with his cock, and jeno just has to press a clammy hand against it.

jeno stays buried deep inside you for a moment, catching his breath. he’s hiccupping a little as he tries to come back to earth from whatever pleasure-induced cloud he’d been on. your fingers move to bring jeno’s face to yours, lips pressing against one another. jeno’s tongue finds refuge against your own, and you moan into his mouth. it’s sloppy and messy, the total opposite of the jeno everyone else gets to see and it makes you clench around his softening cock.

when he pulls away, you hum, taking in the sight before you. jeno’s eyes are wide, pupils blown as he regards you like you’re the only source of water for miles and he hasn’t had a drop in days. his tongue hangs out of his mouth, panting like a dog, and his chin is covered in drool. your fingers work to clean his face, wiping against the bedsheets once you’ve done your best to work the spit away.

you gasp as jeno’s cock slips free, soft between his legs.

“hi, baby,” you whisper, a grin on your lips as you work him back to you. “can you speak yet?”

jeno swallows, eyes blinking slowly as his mouth works to form words.

“shh... you don’t have to try if you can’t. just nod if you’re feeling good enough to keep going.”

the boy between your legs keens softly, nodding a soft yes. you card your fingers through sweat-dampened hair, cooing gently, trying to show as much affection to the boy as you can before you’re yanking on the strands, growling under your breath.

jeno whines in pain, but you can feel his dick twitching against your ass.

“stupid fucking dog. you can’t listen, can you?” your voice is biting, though you mean no malice. “first, you think of only yourself when i so graciously let you fuck me. remember last time, mutt? remember why mommy hasn’t let you fuck her in months? because you do shit like this.” with another tug, jeno’s groaning, mouth opening again. your free fingers work into his pretty, swollen mouth, pressing down on his tongue. your thumb hooks under his jaw, in the divot behind his chin. forcing his mouth open, you maneuver his head so he’s unable to look anywhere but you. “and then, to make it worse, mommy told you not to cum inside her. but what do you do? you cum inside her like a stupid mutt. do you know what will happen if mommy gets pregnant?”

jeno’s eyes are filling with tears, and for a moment you become worried, but you know jeno’s smart enough to use his safe word. he has before, even when he’s gone so far into his puppy space that he’s gotten nonverbal.

“if mommy gets pregnant with your puppies,” you whisper, bringing him in close. he swallows as best as he can around your fingers. “then mommy can’t fuck you like the stupid bitch you are. and you will never get to come close to my pussy. do you understand me, mutt?”

the boy trapped between your legs nods quickly, drool spilling from around your fingers once more. you hum, digging a heel into jeno’s lower back before releasing him. jeno slumps against your chest once your legs are free as well, and your fingers move from his mouth to pet through his locks again.

“you’re lucky you’re so cute, nono.” your voice is breathy, a soft giggle in it somewhere as jeno rests his chin on your chest, looking up at you with big eyes. “god, i can’t even be mad at you.” you’re pouting down at him, moving to adjust your position. turning around, you rest up against the headboard, legs spread wide. jeno’s cum drips from your fluttering walls, between your cheek, and onto the bed sheet beneath you.

“if you wanna make it up to me, you’ll come over here and use that pretty mouth of yours to make me cum.”

jeno’s eyes light up once more and he’s immediately crawling between your legs, ready to give you the world and then some.

#jeno lee smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct u smut #00 line smut #sub!nct #sub!jeno #this was so self indulgent #i just really needed this #i want a jeno so badly

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

First Date (Just Friends Part 5) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 3760

New Morning Routine

Sunlight peaks in around the window ledge, streaming through the shear curtains and warming your hand. You slowly waken, struggling to open your eyes. Something felt different in the most divine way.

As the room came into focus, details from the previous day came rushing back and you felt happy, more than you did in a long time.

You stretched and wiggled a bit, enjoying the soft feeling of the sheets and pillow. Your motion caused a soft murmur behind you and an arm came around your waist, pulling you closer.

‘Good Morning’ you heard Cillian say softly before his soft lips touched your bare shoulder.

‘Good Morning’ you said equally soft before tilting your head, giving him a quick kiss.

‘I am surprised that you aren’t up already’ you said as this was the first time you actually woke up next to Cillian. Usually, by this time, he would already have had a shower and his first cup of coffee.

‘It’s cold and I don’t want to get out of bed’ he murmured as he snuggled into you even more beneath the doona.

As he was snuggling up to you from behind, you could feel his hard member against your back.

You were surprised but yet excited about the possibility of morning sex. But first, you couldn’t help it but make a little joke.

‘I thought this usually only happens to 20 something year olds in the mornings’ you giggled as you reached behind you, in between his legs.

‘Well, I can’t help it, you are just too beautiful’ Cillian said before kissing your neck, sending a smile to your face.

‘Hmm’ you purred as his kisses were slowly becoming firmer as his hand moved to cup my breast, causing your nipple to harden in his palm.

You turned over to face him and stare into his amazingly blue eyes.

‘I love you’ he whispered before his sensual lips moved to capture yours.

‘I love you too’ you said as you broke the kiss for just a second. It was nice that you could admit your feelings not only to yourself, but also to him. You felt as though you had fought it for way too long.

You could feel his desire for you building up again as he gently pushed your back to the mattress and ran his hand over your panties so that his fingers were resting against the top of your clit.

He already had given you about five orgasms in the last 24 hours, but you couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted him again and spread your legs slightly, giving him better access.

While he was stimulating your clit, your hand moved back in between his legs, gently stroking his hard cock through his Calvin Klein briefs.

You were so wet for him already, your panties soaking, as his hands pushed your panties aside and his middle finger down the entirety of your wet entrance.

As he began to rub your clit, you began to moan and stroke his cock harder, feeling a drop of precum flowing from his tip on to the light cotton that is restricting it.

His breathing got heavy as you continued to stroke him while he slipped one of his fingers inside your pussy. You couldn’t help but buck your head back into the pillow.

The pace of pleasuring one another soon became quicker, and although you weren’t saying anything, there was much to be heard with your bodies.

Cillian would occasionally slip his fingers out to rub your clit with the wetness of your hole, and you could feel his cock already pulsating in your hand.

‘I want you inside of me’ you demanded as you flipped back on to your side and with his cock grasped firmly in your hand.

You rubbed his cock once slowly over your clit, just before he grabbed hold of his own cock and rubs it back and forth against your wet folds, stopping at your entrance to tease you.

‘Cillian’ you said firmly, as you couldn’t wait any longer, causing him to grin.

‘Alright, alright’ he said with a smile on his face as, slowly, he pushed inside of you.

‘Oh god, yes’ you moaned at the sensation of him entering you.

You were both breathing heavy with each deepening thrust. Cillian reached around and continues to rub your clit as he penetrates you from behind, causing you to moan loudly over and over again.

As this goes on for another few heightening minutes, you couldn’t help but sink your fingernails into his forearm.

While he was inside of you, thrusting in and out of you, he kissed the back of your shoulder up along your neck.

You turned your head and made your way towards his lip before grazing each other’s tongues. As you kissed more and more intensely he began to fuck you harder.

He was completely indulged in your pleasure and your orgasm was edging.

As you climaxed, you pulsed throughout your entire body while he slows down his thrusts to feel your muscles tighten around his thickening cock. But then, he couldn’t hold back much longer either and pumped faster as your walls continued to contract.

He could feel everything and, with one loud moan, he filled you with his warm cum before you turned around and kissed him again passionately.

‘I wish we could do this every morning’ Cillian smirked after your lips drifted apart.

‘No reason we can’t’ you responded sheepishly before kissing Cillian again. ‘So, what’s the plan for today?’ you asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘Well, I thought I would take you out for our first official date’ Cillian said.

‘A date?’ you asked excitedly. ‘Where are you taking me?’ you added.

‘It’s a surprise‘ Cillian smirked before jumping out of the bed and walking into the bathroom. He seemed in a hurry to get ready and it turned out that he had the whole day planned out for you.

You were quick to get ready, but didn’t worry too much about make up. Cillian always told you that you looked best without it. He adored your natural beauty.

Within 30minutes, you were both showered and dressed and ready to get into Cillian’s car.

First Date

You hadn’t been to this part of Ireland before and hoped that the day would include some sightseeing and maybe some shopping.

You loved small country town shops and old bookstores and you have heard that there were many of those around the area.

Unsurprisingly, you weren’t to be disappointed as Cillian pulled up and parked the car in the middle of a small township.

He took you to a small café for breakfast before you both explored the shops in the street. There were small antique stores, craft shops and a second-hand book shop.

Cillian knew that you enjoyed historical books and everything antique or vintage. At home, you had a large collection of old English teacups and books, mostly poetry. Your grandmother always referred to you as an old soul but most men you’ve met in the past thought that your collectables are somewhat random and silly. They didn’t understand your fascination and would never have considered paying any interest in them.

Cillian was different. He quite enjoyed some of the poetry as well and you discussed many of the writers that you’ve loved with him. To your surprise, Cillian was also more affectioned than all of the other men you’ve met in the past and he didn’t mind to show his affection for you. He would often take your hand into his and give you small kisses where and when appropriate. You enjoyed all of the attention you were receiving from him.

You were, however, slightly uncomfortable as a young woman came up to him and asked him for a picture. It felt strange to you but Cillian seemed to have handled it well. He likes his privacy and you were glad for it.

‘So, it’s time for the actual date’ Cillian said as you returned back to the car after a few hours in town.

‘I am really curious as to where you are taking me Cilly’ you said as you strapped yourself in.

‘Somewhere you will like and where I will be out of my comfort zone’ he said laughing.

After about 10 minutes, you pulled up at what looked like an old castle.

‘Wow, this looks amazing. What is inside?’ you asked.

‘It used to be a residence of some English man until 1889. It then was converted into a hotel and restaurant in the early nineteen hundreds. James Joyce used to stay here frequently until he died in 1941 so I thought you would like it’ Cillian said.

‘James Joyce used to stay here? Are you serious?’ you asked. You had read literally every James Joyce novel and were a huge fan of his work.

‘Yes, he used to visit with his mistress I believe’ Cillian explained as he stepped out of the car.

‘Have you been here before?’ you wondered.

‘Only once for a wedding’ he said before taking your hand and walking inside with you.

The restaurant inside was kept well within the 1890 theme but you soon realised that this is not where you would be eating as the waiter asked you to follow him upstairs.

Upstairs was another venue called ‘The Tearoom’ which was even more beautiful. It had red curtains and beautiful chandeliers.

‘Seriously, High Tea?’ you laughed, knowing exactly that Cillian had no idea what he was in for.

‘Well, I knew you would like it’ Cillian said as he looked around and observed that he was the only man in the entire venue.

‘Would you like a glass of champaign?’ the waitress asked both of you just as you sat down.

You ordered a glass of cuvee but Cillian didn’t really like sparkling wine or champaign.

‘Do you have Guinness?’ Cillian asked, causing the waitress to shake her head in disbelieve before telling him that they didn’t serve beer here.

‘Just tea is fine, thanks’ Cillian responded, causing you to laugh.

‘You look uncomfortable’ you said with a laugh while Cillian looked at the tea menu, which had at least 40 teas to choose from.

‘I admit, I do feel a little out of place’ Cillian said.

‘Well, thank you for taking me here, this is amazing’ you said, being impressed with the historical flair of the venue and the assortment of teas.

‘You are welcome’ he said before reaching across the table and taking your hand into his.

It wasn’t long until you’ve ordered and then you talked for a while and observed your surroundings.

Not far from you there was a table with four young women, two of which glanced over to your table on numerous occasions.

‘It looks like you are getting a bit of interest’ you said jokingly but quietly.

‘Well, I am the only guy in this place, that’s probably why’ Cillian said jokingly just before the waitress approached your table with the food.

‘Wow, this is a lot of cake’ Cillian said as he saw the three trier stand of sandwiches, scones and cakes, causing the waitress to laugh.

Cillian wasn’t much of a sweet tooth and you knew you would have a lot of left overs.

You both tried your best to finish everything but eventually gave up.

When you left the venue and stepped outside it was raining again and you decided to wait for a few minutes to see if the rain eases off before walking to your car.

‘This was the most beautiful first date, thank you Cilly’ you said before giving him a kiss.

‘I am glad you enjoyed it’ Cillian said before telling you that he loved you as your lips drifted apart.

‘I love you too’ you responded before taking Cillian’s hand making a run for the car.

Jealousy

When you arrived back at the Cottage, Cillian heated up the fire place while you ran a bath for the both of you.

You enjoyed having baths with Cillian and were soaking in the tub together for at least 20 minutes.

As you came out of the bathroom, you noticed that you received a text message from Jeremy.

‘Having a good time in Kerry with your sugar daddy?’ the message said, causing you to choke.

You were furious about the tone of the message from Jeremy and wondered how he knew that you were in Kerry.

Just as you were typing a response, another text message arrived.

‘I am disappointed Y/N. I didn’t think you were the kind of woman who would get involved with someone almost twice her age. For what, publicity or money?’ the message said. The text message also contained a link to a tweet of a woman you didn’t know.

You opened the link and saw a photo of you and Cillian sharing a kiss in front of the venue you visited earlier that day. Someone must have taken a photo of you.

Your face was turning red in anger as you read the message over and over again and you didn’t know what to respond.

‘Y/N? Is everything alright?’ Cillian asked as he observed the look on your face.

‘It’s just Jeremy being an ass’ you said as you put the phone down.

‘Why? What did he do?’ Cillian asked concerned.

‘Here’ you said as you gave him your phone and disappeared to get yourself a cardigan.

‘Y/N’ Cillian said as you were leaving, wanting to talk with you about it.

‘Just give me a moment Cilly, ok?’ you said as you walked off. Tears were building up in your eyes and you didn’t want Cillian to see you like this.

Cillian decided to give you some space as you had requested and put your phone onto the kitchen bench.

He didn’t like Jeremy’s comment either but wasn’t surprised. He was prepared for some backlash. After all, this was exactly what he warned you about.

While you had disappeared, Cillian began to prepare dinner and, about ten minutes later, you returned from the bedroom.

You had calmed down a bit and a glass of red wine was waiting for you on the counter as you returned.

You took a sip and offered to help Cillian with the vegetables.

‘Are you alright…with this?’ Cillian asked.

‘What, with the vegetables?’ you asked jokingly.

‘With the comments from Jeremy and the picture’ Cillian asked.

‘A few years ago my grandmother explained to me that people tend to express themselves negatively towards others in order to deal with feelings of jealousy. I believe that this is true and there is literally no reason for me to get wound up about it. Jeremy is clearly just jealous’ you said maturely as you sipped on your wine.

‘Your grandmother is a smart woman’ Cillian said with a chuckle.

‘By the way, I never really liked Jeremy. He seems immature’ Cillian said jokingly before giving you a kiss.

‘I do feel bad for him though, in a way’ you said.

‘I don’t. In fact, I can’t wait to kiss you right in front of him now just to annoy him even more ‘Cillian said cheekily.

‘Cillian!’ you smirked as you bit your lip. You never noticed Cillian to be territorial but the thought of it turned you on.

‘What?’ he answered as he ran his thumb over your cheek and kissed you again.

‘Hmm… so how would you kiss me right in front of him?’ you asked sheepishly. ‘Like this?’ you added before a soft moan escaped you as you pulled Cillian towards you, tight against you, before sliding your tongue into his mouth. The kiss was urgent and passionate.

‘More like this’ Cillian responded before he pressed you hard against the corner of the kitchen bench, kissing you once more, with even more passion, while slightly pushing your legs apart with his.

By this point, you could feel Cillian’s erection press against you.

‘You should have kissed me like this in front of the restaurant, that would have given off a good picture for Twitter’ you said as you ran your hands over the bulge of his pants.

‘I am glad you can see the humour in this’ Cillian chuckled before moving his hands up to cup your breasts.

‘I want you to fuck me right here Cillian’ you said with urgency, causing Cillian to pull your clothes off you with urgency.

You were wearing nothing but your black lace lingerie now as Cillian lifted you up onto the counter and pushed your legs apart.

‘What about dinner?’ Cillian smirked as he began trailing kisses down your chest while unclipping your bra.

‘Later’ you moaned, the wetness building up in between your legs.

Cillian started to gently kiss and lick your delectable nipples while your arm snaked around his head as you moaned.

Your body was arching towards Cillian as he trailed kisses all the way down to your abdomen.

Your lips parted in clear anticipation as he was moving closer towards your panties.

After he pulled off your panties, his lips moved to your wet folds rather quickly, sending you into a horizontal position on the counter.

Cillian grabbed your thighs and pulled you slightly towards him as your legs were spread wide, one resting on his shoulder.

Cillian’s licks were still soft and gentle, but growing more insistent.

You loved the feeling of his lips and tongue in between your legs and your moans were continuous, loud and spurring.

Cillian slipped a finger into your moist, inviting opening around which your body shuddered instantly as he continued sucking you.

He soon added another and thrusting them both in and out of you, hitting your g-spot over and over again. The feeling of it sent you to another level. The familiar "Don't stop!" came soon.

It wasn’t long until you were convulsing around Cillian’s fingers as you growled an inarticulate sound and Cillian needed to hold you back with his other hand as you started thrashing around the counter.

‘Oh my god Cillian’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you. He was so good at this, it was almost unbelievable.

You lifted your back up slightly after you came down from your high, only to notice that Cillian was positioning himself in between your legs.

With a full smile, you were ready as you watched him lining himself up with your entrance, spreading your legs widely to accommodate him.

‘Fuck’ Cillian moaned as he entered you slowly. You were incredibly tight, but also incredibly wet.

You loved the feeling of him filling you like this and let out a high pitched moan as he started; slowly but firmly moving in and out.

It wasn’t long until you clenched onto Cillian’s forearms as he began thrusting rhythmically and forcefully, primal desire taking over.

His hands grabbed your butt and began impaling it onto him as his thrusts became harder. You could almost feel him all the way inside your stomach.

‘Cillian, I am so close’ you moaned as he kept thrusting while he was kissing and gently biting your neck.

The sex was much harsher than you’ve had with him before but that’s exactly what you wanted in that moment.

Goosebumps started appearing all over your skin and you were visibly shaking now. Your walls soon began to contract around Cillian’s hard cock and he held your thighs firmly all the way until you orgasmed.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as your orgasm shook your body into tiny little pieces and your eyes rolled unseeingly as you were being taken over by the crashing elements of your arousal.

Cillian’s moans increased in intensity and volume as he felt you coming around his cock.

‘Fuck’ was all that he could bring over his lips as he came inside of you. A feeling of heat flooded you as spurt after spurt of cum was emptied into you.

‘Hmm I so needed this’ you smirked as Cillian’s forehead was leaning against your breasts. He was still coming down from his high and panted.

‘I love you Y/N’ he said as he looked up at you.

‘I love you to Cilly’ you said just before you exchanged a passionate kiss.

You soon got dressed again and decided to continue with cooking dinner, together, while listening to Portishead and having some read wine.

You loved being with Cillian and, in the end, comments like those from Jeremy meant nothing. You realised that and were determined to ignore people like him from now on.

But it wasn’t that easy. You couldn’t ignore everyone.

After you checked your phones again a few hours later, you each had several missed calls. News travel fast, very fast.

Cillian excused himself to make a call just as you finished cooking. It seemed urgent.

When he returned five minutes later, he was highly frustrated.

You asked what was wrong, but he didn’t want to talk about it. You couldn’t help but wonder who he called.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Theirs

Summary: You are theirs...

Pairing: Alpha!Steve x Reader x Alpha!Bucky

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Ofc Michael, Tony Stark

Warnings: angst, language, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, possessive alpha’s, jealous alpha’s, scenting, comforting, cuddling & snuggling, polyamory, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, claiming

Kinktober Special: Polyamory

Divider by @writeyourmindaway

Kinktober 2020

<< Part 1

In the end, you were always theirs, never anyone else’s…

“Oh, Stevie,” you fist the sheets, dig your nails deep into the fabric. “You feel so big inside of me.”

You can hear the snarl leave Steve’s lips along with a low wail coming from the other side of the room. Steve insisted he’s the pack leader, that’s the reason he had the right to knot you first.

“She looks so beautiful filled with you,” Bucky purrs, moving closer to the bed. Normally any alpha disturbing another alpha mating his omega would end up dead, but Bucky and Steve are a pack, partners, and friends for so many years they learned to share. “I want to see her cum on your cock.”

“She will,” Steve grips your hips, now dragging you onto his impressive length. “I can feel her pretty pussy slick even more for us since you got closer. Touch our omega, kiss her Buck.” You moan as Bucky crawls onto the bed. His large cock bobs and you know, you’re in for a treat during your heat.

“Look at me, omega,” Bucky kneels in front of you to cup your face. “Steve and I will make you ours. From now on, there will be no other alpha in your life but us,” you nod, licking into Bucky’s mouth when he crushes his lips onto yours.

“God, she just squeezed me tighter, Bucky. I guess, our omega needs both of us,” whilst Steve’s knot threatens to pop open Bucky cups your tits to play with your nipples.

“Such a good girl for us, Y/N,” Bucky purrs, nuzzling your cheek. “I want you to cum for Stevie. Can you do this for me? Can you cum all over your alpha’s cock?”

“Yes,” you whimper feeling Steve’s grip on you tighten. The alpha rocks your body with every harsh thrust, growls low in his throat as he watches his cock disappear in your body. “Please, alpha.”

“Let her cum, Steve. I want to see her face contort in pleasure,” Bucky runs his hands over your skin, touches every inch he can reach. “She’s so beautiful.”

Your eyes meet Bucky’s stormy blue orbs when Steve wraps one arm around your waist to bring you to his chest. The alpha jerks his hips into your ass, gives you shallow thrusts. “Touch her pretty clit, Buck. Let’s make her cum together. I want her to cum for the first time with us touching her.” Bucky’s fingers expertly flick your clit, bring you faster to the edge.

“Please,” you cry out, rocking your hips faster when your toes begin to curl. “I’m gonna cum, alphas. Please let me,” Steve purrs against your throat when your voice fails as your orgasm ripples through your body. “God…”

“There she goes, Stevie. Our omega is so beautiful when she feels pure pleasure. Knot her good, alpha. Make her yours before I make her mine,” Steve growls, teeth sinking into your neck to leave a mark.

“Yes, Bucky…oh-please,” your voice already hoarse you throw your head back whilst Bucky holds your hands pinned above your head. The alpha rocks his hips slowly but with enough force to punch the air out of your lungs. “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Bucky,” Steve smirks, eyes focused on his mark on your neck. “Our girl is close to her next orgasm.” You nod eagerly, eyes never leaving Bucky’s blissed-out face. “Make her yours, like I made her mine.”

“I will, Steve. Y/N will belong with us,” you fall again, hard enough to make you cry out in pleasure, waking your neighbors. “Ours…” Bucky thrusts four, five more times before his knot starts to swell.

“Mark her, Buck. Now,” Steve snarls at his friend who hesitates for a moment. “Now, Bucky. Give her your mark whilst the endorphins distract her from the pain.” You whimper when Bucky waits too long to claim you.

“Please, alpha, mark me,” your voice brings Bucky out of his haze and he finally sinks his teeth into your neck, opposite the mark Steve left on your neck. “Bucky…alpha…”

“Ours,” Bucky licks your neck eagerly, cleans your wound to make sure it closes soon. “Love you, Y/N. This is not just a bond between alpha and omega. It’s love, omega.”

“I love you too, alphas…”

“You can’t see her,” Natasha mutters. “Listen, asshat. You had your chance weeks ago. Y/N doesn’t need someone like you around.”

“You’ve got no clue why I didn’t show on our date,” Michael retorts. “Your fine friends kidnapped and threatened me. Captain America and the Winter Soldier went after me to make sure I’ll not go out with my omega.”

“Y/N is not your omega, Michael! Get your shit together and leave the tower,” Natasha narrows her eyes when the angry alpha tries to brush past her.

“Do we have a problem here?” Tony muses, watching the former assassin fist Michael’s hair. “Shall I lend you a hand?”

“That guy wants to see Y/N. He insists he’s her alpha,” throwing his head back Tony snickers. “Did you know she’s mated?”

“Mated? She can’t be mated,” Michael gasps. “I don’t believe you! I want to see Y/N. She was meant to be mine and they ruined my chance with her.”

“Something wrong?” You slowly walk toward Natasha and Tony, ignoring the alpha who stood you up. “Why is that man here? Don’t we have a safety protocol to avoid unwanted people enter the tower freely?”

“Y/N, I need to tell you that Captain America and the Winter Soldier threatened me to not go on a date with you. I wanted to go out with you, but they scared me,” you smile to yourself, stepping closer to Michael to pat his cheek.

“I know, Michael,” the alpha gasps, just like Tony and Natasha. “I wanted them to make a move and planned dates with random alphas. Every single alpha stood me up and I knew, just knew one day my alphas will break and finally make me theirs.”

“Omega?” Steve blinks at your words. “You knew?”

“Stevie, what is going on?” Bucky stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Michael who throws a tantrum. “Why is that punk here?”

“You…you all tricked me to get mated? Are you fucking kidding me, bitch?” Michael storms toward you but you don’t even blink as two super-soldiers shield you immediately.

“Get away from our omega,” Steve warns once before his hand wraps around Michael’s throat. “Leave before I rip you apart.”

“You better do, punk or Steve will kill you if he must,” Bucky snickers when Michael wets his pants yet again.

“Let me handle this and you two,” Tony points toward you behind your alphas back, “should have a serious conversation with your mate…”

“You lied, doll?” You shrug, shamelessly wiggling on your shared bed. Without any regret, you rub your scent into the pillows and blankets. “Doll, we are talking to you.”

“Buck, let me handle this,” Steve wants to stay adamant and punish you, but you purr into his direction and his resolve melts away. “Omega.”

“I had to push you, alphas. I waited and waited but you never asked me out. A girl wants what she wants. I wanted my alphas,” you grin at Steve, eyes filled with lust once again, “now I got them.”

“You naughty little omega,” Bucky muses, knee dipping into the mattress. “I think Steve and I must show you how to behave.”

“I think you are right, Buck,” Steve joins his friend onto the bed to crowd you like their prey. “What shall we do with her?”

Eyes darkened you crawl toward Steve to nuzzle your face into his wide chest, purring low in your throat as your heat makes your skin crawl.

“I want you, alphas. Take care of your omega.”

“OH-doll, we will take good care of you and your needs,” Bucky’s eyes start to glow when you wiggle out of your clothes. “Be good.”

“Our doll will be so good for us, Buck. I can smell her slick,” Steve grips your chin, forces you to look up at him. “Am I right?”

“I think,” you lick his fingers, eagerly sucking at his thumb. “You will be good alphas.”

Both men move closer to get their hands on you. Purrs fill the room alone with their strong scent. You watch them strip their clothes off, admire their bodies before you smile to yourself.

It took a lot of patience and tricks to get what you want but now that you are finally theirs, you will enjoy every moment…

Kinktober 2020

@werewolfbanshee-love

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1K notes · View notes

bellesque · 4 years

Note

can I request a Loki/reader fan fic where Loki and the reader are dating but their sex has been pretty vanilla because he is worried about hurting or scaring her with his darker dominant side and his strength but one day he discovers she is actually into that and he indulges her wishes please? happy birthday and thank you for this!

Kneel (Loki x Reader)

Read on my AO3.

Summary:

Loki’s a little banged up from battle, you’ve got some very specific (read: dirty) thoughts, and you find that’s all it takes for the God of Mischief to indulge in a few of your fantasies.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings/Tags: Smut (duh), Rough Sex, Wall Sex, Cum Play, Overstimulation, Blow Jobs, Slight Dom/sub Dynamics

A/N: My birthday was on the 12th okay YES I KNOW THIS IS SO LATE but I hope you guys enjoy the first of the three fic requests! Loki kind of just took it his own direction, I’m not sure what happened—anyway, if you guys want a part two to this just let me know hihi okay enjoy!

Tag List: @shiningloki @imnotrevealingmyname @wolfsmom1 @hanyasnape @lukeyirwy @toozmanykids (Tag List is currently open! If you’d like to be a part of it, let me know!)

YOU SHOULDN’T BE lying on your cozy spring mattress, with Loki’s arm sprawled across your waist, entirely comfortable, sated from sex, and yet somehow wide awake.

You should be asleep. As knocked out, if not more, as Loki is right now. His breath comes in even pants behind you, a telling sign of the quality of his current rest. While you’re relaxed and your mind is absolutely prepared for bed, you can’t seem to fall into a state of drowsiness.

There are a few late night musings that currently keep you from it. Mostly about, well, sex.

Not that you’re complaining. Loki’s fantastic in bed. He’s gentle, he’s passionate, he’s nurturing and careful… maybe to a fault.

Again. Not that you’re complaining.

It’s just when you date someone like Loki, a literal god, you expect a little more… spice. A little less nice.

But why the restraint? It baffles you. You can tell he’s holding himself back. When you think Loki’s about to slam into you, bruise your hips with the harsh grip of his fingers, he rocks into you with long, slow strokes, kissing your neck and murmuring how amazing you are.

Again. You’re not complaining.

But you wouldn’t be opposed to a little more… bite. As much as you love his romantic lovemaking, you essentially, well—you want to get fucked.

And you’ve tried to make it happen. On multiple occasions. You wrestled him onto his back once, topping him right in the middle of sex. You were expecting him to put you back in your place, even at least instruct you from his position underneath you, but Loki only let you ride him, unbothered in the least.

Okay, maybe you weren’t clear. Maybe he just thought you wanted to try a new position. Fair, fine—it was only the first attempt, you told yourself.

The second time around, you thought you were a bit clearer with your intentions. You got on all fours, wiggling your ass at him as you arched your back and whispered in a sultry tone, “Come get it, mischief.”

Except he rubbed a palm over your ass once and flipped you right over.

It’s not that you’re undesirable. You know Loki loves you with his whole heart. Your gut tells you that there’s more to the rejection to your advancements than he lets on.

Do you come on too strong?

No, you’re sure you don’t. You got the tiniest taste of the forbidden fruit once and just from that, you just know the desire is somewhere inside him, buried deep.

Oh, that moment. That singular, unrestrained moment gives you shudders until now.

You clenched around his cock particularly hard, and Loki rutted into you with a sharp snap of his hips, burying himself deeper, his teeth biting at your earlobe.

You let out a surprised gasp of pleasure… and that was it.

So what do you have to do to get that moment again, repeated into hours and hours of mindblowing, rough sex?

(As it turns out, nothing.)

You drape Loki’s arm over your shoulders, doing your best not to buckle under the weight of him. He’s so fucking heavy, and he knows that—instead of putting his weight onto you, he pulls you closer towards him like some kind of reverse crutch. You huff in frustration. “Lean on me.”

“Which would leave us one too many injured. No, thank you.”

You pull on his singed sleeve. “Lean.”

“Can you handle it?” Loki manages to sound amused despite the current grimace on his face.

A flare of annoyance rises in you together with a fleeting thrill. “I-I can handle it,” you say, neck heating up at the double meaning.

He probably doesn’t think much of it. But you—it’s been eating at your subconscious for a consistent few nights now. Especially when you’ve watched him train every day, those lean muscles rippling and covered in a light sheen of sweat, in preparation for today’s battle.

One which you know he lost.

You and Loki are quiet when you enter the Tower in the dead of night. The weight of defeat hangs heavy in the air, and Loki’s stiff and distracted when you enter the elevator and punch in the button to your designated floor. Carefully you maneuver around him, making sure not to brush against any of his bruises and scrapes, and tilt his chin so you can see him in the elevator light.

Loki gazes at you affectionately, some of his previous frustrations now disappearing from the creases in his face. “You’re awfully concerned, little one. Have you forgotten Asgardians heal faster than mortals?”

“Just let me look at you.”

“You’ve looked at me before.”

“I don’t need your smartass mouth right now.” You brush your thumb against the corner of his mouth, noticing a cut running along his top lip. You soften. “What happened?”

Loki exhales, his expression hardening when he turns away. Your hand falls from his face and the elevator dings. Wordlessly you support him as you walk to your room, keeping in step with him and making sure his limp isn’t too bad.

But hell. He’s heavy.

Once you make it inside, you don’t press further—instead you clean his wounds, help him bathe, and make sure he eats and drinks despite his insistent “I’m fine.” You wear him down. It’s part of your charm. It’s what you do best.

Loki holds you after that. Says nothing about the battle of today’s mission, or his scars; he tucks your head under his chin and rubs your back while you listen to the steady beat of his heart until it lulls you into sleep.

“Do you want to see?”

The deep rumble of Loki’s voice makes you stir. You open your eyes, groggy, and peer up at him. From the looks of it, he’s been awake for a while, staring contemplatively at the ceiling.

“What?” you say, a beat late. You admire his face, no matter how stoic he seems right now.

He looks at you. His face has mostly healed, the cut on his lip now a light scar. “What happened.”

You perk up immediately. “Only if you want to. I mean, you can trust me.”

Loki nods, bringing your foreheads together. Instantly you’re a spectator in the middle of battle. The stench of blood and sweat are pungent in the air, the clatter and clang of weapons mixed with battle cries roaring in your ears. There, a few feet away from you, is Loki.

Pride and attraction weave together and swell inside you as you watch Loki in his element. Graceful. Cunning. Strong. Powerful. You’ve seen him fight, but… but not like this.

His opponent moves to punch him—but Loki catches his fist easily. He anticipates it. Doesn’t even flinch. His heels don’t dig into the dirt like his opponent’s do. The scepter in his other hand pulses blue and he kicks it off the ground, using the momentum to swing it into the man’s face.

“Yield,” he growls, shoving the scepter’s blade against the man’s crumpled form.

Ah, fuck—the way you mishear it and think he says kneel doesn’t exactly help your tendency to gravitate towards dirty thoughts. Your pussy clenches as an image of Loki snarling that single word to you flashes in your mind. You see yourself submitting pretty easily, sinking down onto your knees, eyes trained on his Loki’s pleasured face, and—

The room comes back into focus as you’re whipped back to reality. Loki’s staring at you with wide, curious eyes. Near disbelief, pulled with slight awe.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

His beautiful green eyes darken, a smirk stretching across his lips. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and your heart slams against your ribcage as Loki slowly rolls on top of you, pinning you beneath him.

“I saw… while our minds were connected…” He laughs in a short, breathy kind of way, head falling on your shoulder and nipping at your collarbone. A sharp spike of arousal courses within you. “Oh, sweet, is that what you want? For me to ask you to…” He brings his mouth against your ear, dropping his voice to a seductive purr. “Kneel?”

A shudder slides down your spine.

“Or perhaps”—he trails the tip of his tongue around the helix of your ear—“a command.” Loki bites down on your earlobe, quick and sharp and hard, and heat pools like molten lava in your center. “Kneel.”

Your head is spinning. How is it that you’re so turned on already?

Loki shoves a hand between your legs and you whimper. His fingers hook at your damp underwear, pulling it to the side and trailing a finger along your seam.

“Look at how excited you are,” he breathes. “Already so wet, my love?”

You release a shaky exhale. “Loki…”

He pushes himself off you, but not before he whispers, “Turn around and take your clothes off,” in a rough voice.

Your throat feels like it’s dry and watering at the same time, anticipation rushing into you like a waterfall. You flip over, kneeling on the bed—you hope to be kneeling in front of him soon—and shuck off your pajamas.

Once you’re naked, you’re about to ask Loki what to do next—but without warning, he pushes you down, and you fall forward with a faint squeak as he straddles you from behind. You feel his strong, bare chest heaving against your back, his hard length throbbing between your butt cheeks.

Oh, he’s heavy—in more sinful ways than one.

“You’re going to kneel for me later, little one,” he says, his breath warm against your nape. He positions your arms overhead, your fingertips grazing the headboard. He runs his palms along the outside of your body, until his hands close around your hips.

And then he yanks your bodies up, your hips rolling backwards into the air while your torso remains flattened on the mattress. Loki pushes a knee between your legs and nudges them apart, and you suck in a breath you didn’t know was knocked out of you. He rubs his large palms against the side of your ass cheek.

“Will you follow when I instruct you, pet?” He slaps your ass, hard, the meat of it jiggling even after his palm connects to you.

You bite down on your lip. “Yes.”

“Good.” He smacks your ass again, that same intensity as earlier, and you whimper from the pleasurable sting.

“Do you like that, pet?” He rubs circles over your ass.

“Yes—”

He deals another blow, and you arch your back further. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Loki, yes!”

A satisfied growl emerges from the back of his throat, and hooking his forearm over your torso he brings your back against him. His hand finds its way onto your breast, which he kneads and squeezes, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

He bites down on your neck when your head falls back against him, sucking on your sensitive spot and drawing moan after moan from you. Your body is extremely warm now, the need to be stuffed with his cock growing, but at the same time, you want to savor this moment. You don’t know how long Loki’s going to play this game with you.

He releases the skin of your neck with a quiet pop. “Get on the floor, sweet,” he rasps, “kneel for me.”

With your thighs trembling, you crawl to the floor, obediently awaiting him with your chest heaving. Loki slides off the bed, standing in front of you, his cock at your eye level. He’s so hard, veins traversing over his thick shaft that throbs ever so slightly.

You want it in your mouth.

Loki rakes his fingers through your hair and guides your head onto his cock. Your lips slide over him slowly, taking in his length until the head hits the back of your throat.

You hollow your lips and suck once, and Loki hisses.

His grip on your hair tightens considerably, trying to get you to swallow him deeper, and you do until you gag a little. Loki stiffens, and you place your hands on his hips and brush his sides slowly, trying to convey that you’re okay.

And then he’s actively guiding you by the hair, cock sinking into your mouth in a steady tempo while he alternates between stroking your hair and neck.

“That’s it. Good girl. Deeper, love,” he husks, hips moving gently in time with you. He looks down at you with desire written all over his face. “Suck my cock. You’re doing so well. Faster. Ah—your mouth is exquisite, pet, come now… milk my cock, make me cum…”

You hum against him, your tongue fluttering against his frenulum, and Loki curses, hips moving faster while you bob on his length. Your tongue swirls around the head when you pull back and you suction your lips at the base of his cock, and soon Loki’s holding your head in place, your jaw going slack as he jerks into your wanting mouth.

You can tell he’s close, and your wetness intensifies when you visualize his cum sliding down your throat.

But then… then he’s pulling out of your mouth and pushing your head back when he pulses with the telltale sign of release. Instead of cumming in your mouth, his seed shoots out in thick ropes over your chin and chest as he groans out his orgasm.

You scramble forward after admiring the spurt of his cum from so close, and you wrap your lips around his cock before he can finish cumming, sucking on him with newfound vigor. He groans again, fisting your hair even tighter, keeping you in place while you flutter your tongue against the ridges of his cock head. You swallow his load, and some if it dribbles down your chin and onto your breasts.

You know he’s watching you, and in the spirit of being bold while you have this chance, you do something bold. You look up at him through lidded eyes, and using your fingers to scoop up some of the cum on your chest, you bring it to your face. You pop off him and slide your cum-covered fingersinto your mouth sensually. You suck and lick your digits, keeping innocent eye contact, and watch his eyes darken.

“You’re a cum thirsty little slut, aren’t you?” he growls, collecting his cum on his fingers and shoving them into your mouth. “Suck. That’s it, like it’s my cock.”

Your pussy is aching for attention now, your body taut with arousal, and you suck on his fingers like your life depends on it. “You taste so good, Loki,” you whisper. “I just want to be filled by your cock. Your cum. Loki, please, give it to me…”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and hoists you up by the nape of your neck like it’s easy. Oh fuck, his intensity and his strength are dizzying. He throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and he smacks your ass.

From this position, you have a clear view of his glutes. And his muscled back. You reach down and just give a tiny squeeze—

He slaps your ass again as he walks you two to the side of the room. “You think you can speak out of turn, little one? Touch my body without my express permission?” He sets you down on your feet with surprising, firm gentleness, and pins you against the wall by the window. “You’re lucky I want to be inside your pussy right now,” he mutters before sealing his lips over yours in a blistering kiss, tongues battling as his hands grope and squeeze at every part of your body. After he sucks on your tongue and leaves you panting and lightheaded, he distances from you to spin you around so your front is to the wall.

He bites down on your shoulder as his cock slips into you and you cry out in pleasure.

“Hands up,” he orders, and you brace your arms against the wall as he pounds into you from behind with unrelenting speed.

You moan, fingers clawing at the wall, trying to find something to ground yourself to. “Loki, your cock, it’s perfect—fuck, Loki, cum inside me, once, twice, fill my fucking cunt—”

He pushes your feet farther apart and lifts you up slightly, the angle causing stars to explode behind your eyes. “Fuck!”

His own hand comes up to brace against the wall beside yours, and he drives deeper into you still. Somehow. “You want my cum, pet? You want to be filled so much that my cum drips out of this delicious cunt for hours?”

Your pussy clenches around him as your orgasm begins to build with a ferocious intensity. Your closed eyes snap open when there’s a noticeable cracking sound by your head.

Cracks spider out on the wall from where his fist is. And that… that single revelation, evidence of his strength, is enough to topple you over and into orgasm.

“Touch yourself,” Loki grunts suddenly, his hands clasping around your wrist and shoving it between your legs.

“I—” you gasp, a shudder wracking your body as your orgasm pulses, “I’m still—”

“Do it.”

You swallow, shaking fingers finding your clit and you rub yourself in rapid circles; Loki hasn’t slowed his pace one bit, and from the overstimulation it doesn’t take long until you’re cumming again.

“That’s it,” Loki coaxes, your toes rising off the floor with every strong, unyielding thrust, “cum all over my cock. Good girl.”

With his cock still inside you, he brings you towards the bed, feet off the floor. He maneuvers you so you twist on his cock and your chests are pressed together. Your back meets the soft mattress and you look up at Loki hovering above you. One of Loki’s hands is braced on the headboard; the other circles your clit lazily. Your mouth stays parted as you stare up at him with glassy, sex-sated eyes.

“Loki…” you say, weak. You feel like jelly, but you aren’t exactly ready to give up the euphoric state of bliss you’re in. “You… you can go even harder—if, if you want to.”

His movements slow to a stop and his eyes fill with quiet adoration. “Are you sure that’s what you want, sweet? I never want to hurt you, or scare you, with my strength.” He manages a small though equally sexy smirk. “And I am a very strong Asgardian as it is.”

You clench, bringing Loki deeper inside you, and he groans. “As hard as you want,” you affirm.

Loki’s eyes widen imperceptibly and his pupils dilate in the same millisecond. And then he’s kissing you fiercely, shoving your knees up over his shoulders and he bottoms out, both of you moaning at the sensation.

“I love you,” he whispers, and you almost can’t hear it. His hips are then slamming into you at breakneck speed. He pins your arms above your head, sucking another bruise into your neck at the same time. The sounds of your sex obscenely fill the room, your already swollen, overstimulated clit stimulated even further with every stroke, and soon you’re screaming hoarsely that you’re about to cum.

Your third—fourth, fifth?—orgasm unravels when you start gyrating as he thrusts into you, your body convulsing with the pleasure that shoots through you. Loki cums seconds later with a shout, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulses inside you. He murmurs dirty nothings against your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses in between.

He pulls out of you, nuzzling your neck, and his hand travels down towards your spent cunt. He spreads your juices across your swollen lips. “How are you, dove?”

“Never been better,” you slur, letting out a relaxed sigh. It’s true. It’s like a nagging itch has finally been scratched.

“Are you sure about that?”

Your eyebrows pull together. “What do you mean?”

Loki grins, dark mischief and desire clouding his eyes. “Quite bold of you, pet, to assume we’re finished.”

He flips you onto your stomach again, his cock hardening behind you as he pulls your arms toward the headboard. There’s a click and the gleam of a metal chain shines in the morning sun.

Loki presses a kiss to your neck, nibbling at the spot behind your ear and whispers something that makes your skin tingle with fresh arousal.

“I’m far from finished with you, pet. Now. On your knees.”

#am i physically incapable of writing requests shorter than 3k #probably #fic request #reader request #loki smut #loki #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fandom #loki imagine #smut #by belle

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 4 years

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 1/16 (all chapters)

“Oh my g-“ You whined, tightening your grip on the sink. “Harder, I’m gonna…”

You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you came undone; took in your smudged makeup and disheveled hair.

Pleasure rippled through you and you moaned into it, pushing yourself back onto the stranger’s dick and taking as much of him in as humanly possible. You could feel every inch of him and he groaned at the feel of you tightening around him.

“Oh f-“ You murmured, holding onto the sink and grinding yourself against your lover in time to the spasms of your body.

You were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you lost all coherency, body acting of its own accord. Your lover sucked in a single breath as he continued to fuck you and you could do little else but stare at your shoes.

You were doing this.

You were doing him . In a bathroom, no less.

How on earth had you gotten yourself into this situation?

━

Whenever you looked back over the course of your life, one detail stood out far more prominently than the others.

You were a good girl.

You had never broken the law, had always adhered to the proper dress code, had never had a filling or broken a bone. You could, and very often did, define yourself by the roads you had never dreamed of taking and the decisions you had never made.

Never was it more obvious than the day you suffered your first real heartbreak.

You had followed the rules carefully; had dressed respectably for every date; had taken care to listen to your boyfriend’s every problem. You’d learned to cook his favorite meal; had faked more orgasms than you could count to feed his ego.

You were sure you would marry that man and had mentally mapped out your next five years. You would have a simple ceremony and a child one year later, then another two years after the first. You’d named them in your imagination and frequently lapsed into daydreams about your future perfect life.

On your fifth anniversary he took you to dinner and you could barely hide your excitement. You knew he had been keeping something from you and you were so sure he was going to propose. You put on your best dress and favourite heels and spent an hour on your makeup and hair. This night was going to be perfect and your stomach fluttered as he reached for your hands across the table.

“(Name),” he said, squeezing your hands in his, “I’ve been thinking about our future.”

“Me too,” you said, squeezing back, willing yourself to hold it together. You wanted this moment to be so perfect and romantic that you would repeat it over and over to your future children and grandchildren. “I’m so happy we’re on the same page.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time,” he said, smiling softly. “I’ve enjoyed all of our time together, but I think we need to move forwards.”

All you could think about was your future children; the length of their eyelashes and warmth of their hugs. You could almost smell the flowers in your wedding bouquet.

“I just...I think we’ve had a lot of fun together,” he said, “but I’m scared that if we stay like this we’ll fall into a rut. I don’t want to be married with a bunch of kids before I’m forty.”

And just like that, your stomach fell through the floor.

“Wait, w-what are you talking about?”

You snatched your hands from his, heart racing. Was this some sort of joke? You had shopped together for a new mattress only two days before. You glanced around the restaurant, looking for cameras or any sign that this was staged. If it was a prank, it was cruel.

“(Name), it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just that, well… you’re like...how do I put this…”

He scratched his chin, searching for the right thing to say, even as your eyes filled with tears.

“You’re vanilla,” he said, “you’re safe, and sweet… but we’re still young and I keep thinking that I might want to try habanero or cayenne.”

“You think I’m...boring?” the words left your lips as a whisper and, while his reaction was to instantly reach out to you and apologise, the damage was already done.

“I can be habanero,” you said before you realised it. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

“I know,” he said, “and that’s the problem.”

━

That night you stood in your shower for almost three quarters of an hour, staring into space as the water soaked you through.

His words circled your brain like vultures.

Vanilla.

He thought you were vanilla. Perhaps the worst part was that you could not disagree.

It haunted your every action for the following week. All you saw when you got ready for work was your simple wardrobe and comfortable shoes.

You were a good girl, mild mannered and meek, and everyone seemed to have noticed before you.

Shock made way for despair. Despair turned to denial and denial quickly turned to anger. You hated your ex boyfriend almost as much as you hated yourself, scouring your apartment for everything he had ever touched.

It didn’t take long for your friends to get worried about you. Normally you were all too busy to constantly check in on the group chat you shared, but since the breakup everyone had something to say.

However kind they might have been to spare your feelings, they genuinely did seem surprised that you had broken up. You had been a couple since your college graduation and one of the only constants in the past few years as everyone’s lives took different directions.

As was to be expected, your friends had multiple different opinions on suitable coping mechanisms. Yuiko came over with food; Hana brought wine. Sayaka called you every evening to trash talk your ex.

Then there was Rei.

Rei was the most boisterous member of your friend group, full to the brim with the kind of self confidence that was obnoxious on other people, yet suited her perfectly. Her reaction to the breakup was not to hand you tissues. She posted exactly one message to the group chat and it had haunted you ever since.

To get over one dude… you gotta get under another ;)

You had known Rei for years and never once taken her advice, but something about that statement stuck with you. You would never have come up with such an idea on your own and it left you blushing a bright scarlet. Rebound sex was not something girls like you did, which was exactly why you had to do it.

“I’ll show you vanilla,” you muttered as you put on another layer of red lipstick and pulled your dress just a little lower to tease the lace of your bra.

━

You met up with your friends at Ego , a nightclub you had heard a great deal about, though never actually gone to. You had never had any reason to; you already had a long term partner and didn’t enjoy the idea of dancing in full view of strange men.

You wondered if you’d made a mistake even as you took a seat at one of the tables.

“Any lookers?”

You glanced around the room, trying to make out faces in the darkness.

“I…” you said. “I…”

You swallowed hard, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.

“I’ll get the next round!”

You thought that by going to fetch another round of drinks, you would be able to catch your breath and avoid drawing copious amounts of attention to yourself. You’d never spent much time at nightclubs, though, and realised your mistake once you got within twenty feet of the bar.

Dozens of people in various states of intoxication crowded it, packed like sardines and all trying to get the attention of the bartender. You took a deep breath and took a step into the crowd, only for someone closer to the front to move and send a wave of movement through everyone else. Someone’s shoulder caught you in the chest, leaving you even further back than you had been before.

Normally you were too polite to even contemplate shoving your way through a crowd, but tonight you weren’t yourself. You took a deep breath and put your weight into your shoulders, pushing against the others as forcefully as you could without actually hurting anyone.

At first you seemed to be making progress, though you soon regretted your decisions. As you got within a few paces of the bar, a guy in front of you slipped, the numerous drinks in his hands heading for your face.

Before they could make contact, however, someone reached for your wrist and yanked you towards the bar, out of the line of fire. The drinks hit other partygoers and they cried out in shock; the glasses shattered as they hit the floor. You, however, remained untouched.

“Th-thank you,” you stammered, turning to your saviour.

He was tall and lanky, with black hair tied back from his face in a ponytail. He wore a black shirt, black pants, black shoes- a complete contrast to the Blue Hawaiian in his hand.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, looking away from you and taking an indifferent sip of his drink.

The bartender was in the middle of clearing the shattered glass from the floor and so you waited in an awkward sort of silence, finally turning back to the man who had saved you.

“You look as happy to be here as I am,” you said. He looked the type to sit in shady bars with three fingers of whisky, not dance with inebriated strangers, which Ego was better known for.

“Wasn’t my decision,” he said. “Someone’s gotta babysit.”

He pointed towards the dancefloor, where a small group of people danced along to the beat. You couldn’t make out most of their faces, except for one, and you were sure your eyes were deceiving you.

“Is that...Present Mic?”

The stranger followed your gaze, to the man with more than a passing resemblance, who was currently wiggling his hips in time to the beat.

“Him? Nah. I don’t know him.”

“But he’s waving to you,” you said, as the man who looked like Present Mic waved his arms over his head and shouted something in your general direction. You couldn’t hear him over the music and the stranger next to you pointedly turned in the opposite direction, taking a long sip of his drink.

You had been so nervous about approaching strangers. Rei had made it seem so easy- merging into a group and catching someone’s eye. You had always had a boyfriend and never possessed the easy confidence of your friends. It was strangely reassuring that speaking to this man came almost naturally.

“My name’s (Name),” you said. “Listen, you really saved me there...this dress is hand wash only.”

“Shouta,” said the stranger. “My name is Shouta.”

“C-can I get you a drink or something? I really owe you one.”

You realised after saying it that he wasn’t even halfway through the drink in his hand.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “It wasn’t anything special.”

He picked the pineapple from his drink and chewed at it thoughtfully.

“Listen,” he said, “I don’t like playing games. What is it you want?”

You were tongue tied, mortified at being caught out so quickly. You fought to keep your composure.

Under ordinary circumstances, you would have stammered some sort of apology or explanation, but tonight you weren’t you and there was no point in denying that you had an ulterior motive.

“Fine,” you said, gathering your nerves. “Do you want to go somewhere more...private?”

You cringed the moment it left your lips, suddenly all too aware of how forward you were being. You couldn’t believe you’d all but thrown yourself at the first guy you saw. What was wrong with you?

He climbed down off the stool he had been sitting on, taking one final sip of his drink.

“Let’s go.”

━

And so it was that you wound up in the nightclub washroom, back against the door and Shouta’s lips on yours.

You had half-heartedly discussed with your friends what to do on the off chance you found someone. You were to post to the group chat with a photograph of you and whoever you left with. You hadn’t expected to leave with anyone, much less decided on where you would go if you did.

You would never have guessed that you would wind up in a washroom, with the door sealed shut behind you. Shouta crushed his lips against yours, one hand pressed against the door, the other on your waist.

Your heart raced, heat rushing through you and pooling in your core.

“Say,” said Shouta, lowering his hand and running a thumb over your lips, “you sure you want this? Right here, right now?”

You moved before you realised what you were doing, opening your mouth and running your tongue over his thumb, looking him dead in the eyes as you wrapped your lips around it.

He hadn’t expected it, but seemed to approve, for he smiled, pulling away and dragging you into another crushing kiss. One hand he positioned above your head; the other grabbed at your clothes, pulling down your dress to expose your bra before heading south.

He lifted your skirt, slipping his fingers into your underwear. You gasped as you felt his hand against your folds, planting your own hand against the door to brace yourself. He caught your eye, tracing a finger around your clit before slowly sinking it deep into you. You reached for his shoulders, hooking one leg around his waist and pushing your lips against his. You pulled him tighter and tighter as he pushed his finger in and out of you, dragging at his shirt and belt.

He squeezed in a second finger and you bucked your hips into his touches.

As if in response, he pulled his fingers out of you and ran them over your clit- the warmth and wetness sending pleasurable shivers down your spine. You had never felt this way before; this man was as good as a stranger, yet you wanted him so very badly. You had never felt this kind of desire before, never known how it felt to have such a growing pressure inside of you.

“Please,” you moaned into his mouth, not knowing exactly what you were begging him for. “Please—-"

“Come here,” Shouta growled, pulling you towards him and then across to the sink. You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, unkempt and wide eyed- a complete transformation from when you stepped out of the house.

You watched through the mirror as Shouta unfastened his belt and fly, lowering his pants low enough to give you a clear view of his hardened dick. He was far more muscular than his skinny physique let on, with a deep scar beneath his belly button.

You were trembling from need, squeezing your legs together to try and fill the void his fingers had left. He smirked and walked towards you, taking hold of your hips and slowly, almost torturously slowly, pushing himself into you.

He was bigger than you expected and you gasped at the feel of yourself stretching to accommodate him. He stopped in place, waiting for you to push back against him before pushing in further. At first his pace was slow, inching in only a little at a time, teasing an increasingly sensitive spot deep inside of you.

“Faster,” you whined, digging your nails into your palms at the pressure inside of you. It was overwhelming your every sense, a coil winding tighter and tighter with every touch. “Please...please…”

He slapped your ass and drove in deeper.

This new pace was faster, his hips slamming into yours with such force that it sent you barreling forwards across the sink. You clung on for dear life, taking in the wet sounds as your bodies clashed; Shouta’s groans of pleasure and exertion.

“Oh my g-“ You whined, tightening your grip on the sink. “Harder, I’m gonna…”

You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you came undone; took in your smudged makeup and disheveled hair.

Pleasure rippled through you and you moaned into it, pushing yourself back onto Shouta’s dick and taking as much of him in as humanly possible. You could feel every inch of him and he groaned at the feel of you tightening around him.

“Oh f-“ You murmured, holding onto the sink and grinding yourself against him in time to the spasms of your body.

You were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you lost all coherency, body acting of its own accord. He sucked in a single breath as he continued to fuck you and you could do little else but stare at your shoes.

You were doing this.

You were doing him . In a bathroom, no less.

He gathered your hair with one hand and pulled backwards, arching your back as he fucked you even harder. He was getting close and you could tell; his thrusts were getting erratic and the hand that squeezed your hip was so tight that it left bruises later.

“(Name),” he said, raspiness of his voice betraying his desperation, “where would you like me to...cum”

He groaned and you blushed a bright red.

“In...inside me,” you murmured, the depravity of it all too clear. This was a man you didn’t know; you were risking pregnancy and worse.

In that moment, though, it only added to the appeal.

Shouta pulled you even closer, slowing right down to an almost painfully slow rhythm. He held you in place as he came and gasped for air; the heat of his breath leaving goosebumps against your skin.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, his warmth dripping from you as he pulled out.

You took a deep breath and stood up straight, Shouta letting go of you to pull up his pants. He rinsed his hands under the tap and splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a pile of paper towels.

“I’ll guard the door,” he said, motioning towards the same door he had pinned you against only a short time ago. “Knock when you’re ready.”

“Oh,” you said, watching him leave, “okay.”

For the first time all night, you were alone, the nightclub music in the background your only clue to your surroundings.

You walked towards the sink and took in your bedraggled appearance-bra on full display and cum on your thighs.

You couldn’t believe you were thinking it, but Rei was right. For the first time in weeks you weren’t thinking about the ex. For the first time in years you weren’t thinking about anything.

Habanero, you thought as you switched on the tap.

This was how it felt to be habanero.

━

6 Months Later

You were still a good girl.

That said, you no longer followed the safe roads. Not so long ago, you believed that your breakup was the end of everything, but it had actually been a new beginning.

Two months after the night at Ego , you cut your hair and quit your job. You had been there since graduation and your colleagues were more than a little desperate for you to stay. You had taken on the workload of about seven of eight people while earning only a pittance for a salary.

You had a new job now; something fresh and exciting and challenging to boot. It made you nervous, but that feeling only spurred you on.

You’d never been to UA before and it was much bigger in person. You could already tell you were going to get lost and found yourself grateful that the Principal had taken it upon himself to show you around.

“These are the first year homerooms,” he said, pointing out the doors on your left and right. “1-A and 1-B. I hope you pardon my presumptuousness, but I thought it might be useful to have you shadow one of our homeroom teachers for a couple of hours...get a feel for our curriculum and the kinds of students you’ll be working with.”

“That would be wonderful,” you said, eager to take notes.

“Wait here,” said Principal Nezu, “I’ll be right back.”

He knocked on one of the doors and stepped inside, presumably to fetch the teacher.

When he returned, it took everything in your power to stop your jaw from hitting the floor.

It was him, and he was just as shocked to see you.

“Professor Aizawa,” said Principal Nezu, “this is (Name), our new guidance counsellor.”

He glanced from you to Shouta, taking in your identical expressions.

“Oh… do you know one another?”

#aizawa x reader #eraserhead x reader #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #boku no hero academia #habanero

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imagineaworlds · 4 years

Text

I Had a Dream (Part Three) -- BAU Team

“Toy With Me”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Sir kink, Dom/sub relationship, Mistress kink, Daddy kink, Master kink, dirty talk, bondage, BDSM, degradation, edging, nipple clamps. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: BAU team x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy)

Word Count: 3265

I let out a shaky breath as I moved back onto the middle of the bed, then laid down until my head hit the pillows. I was staring up at the ceiling, listening to Emily as she went to go tell them we were ready. It took about a minute of me sitting in silence and my own arousal for the door at the top of the stairs to open again, and the stampede of steps started echoing throughout the basement. I instinctively closed my legs. When the mattress space to my left started to sink, I looked to see Hotch there.

“I’ll be in the corner, my love. It’s you and me, okay? You say the word, and we’ll stop.”

I reached up to touch his face. “I’m okay, Sir.” We leaned towards each other and kissed passionately for a moment. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

After a moment of letting his words brew, Hotch got off the bed and went to sit in his armchair in the corner. It was a black leather seat that managed to blend in with the dark blue painted walls fairly well. He liked to sit there and watch toys torture me for hours. That was his spot. He wasn’t going to let anyone take it. As for the rest of the team, I craned my neck up long enough to see that Garcia had pulled Morgan to the couch on the far side of the room, just in front of the tv on the wall opposite me. JJ, Reid, Rossi, and Emily were all standing around the bed, looking down at me.

“They’ve soaked their pants,” Rossi pointed out.

I whimpered and squeezed my thighs together to hide the embarrassing wet spot in my sweatpants. Rossi and Emily, however, worked together to pull my legs apart. My breath sputtered.

“They were riding my thigh earlier,” Emily said. She suddenly landed a slap on my clothes pussy, making me moan out. My clit was throbbing and the strike only made it more obvious to me. “I bet they would’ve tried to cum if we weren’t interrupted. Isn’t that right, slut?” She landed another slap.

I tensed my legs in an attempt to close them again, but Emily and Rossi held true. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Sir’s trained a good slut, it seems,” Rossi said, referencing Hotch. “Always needy and obedient.” He ran a finger up my slit starting at my entrance, slowly working its way up to my clit, making me moan and wiggle again. “Reid and JJ, grab their arms.”

My eyes widened and I shook my head. JJ and Reid ignored me, though. They each grabbed one of my wrists, then pinned them over my head.

“That’s better,” Rossi hummed, running his finger up me again. “No panties?”

“Never,” Hotch answered from his seat.

“No bra, either…”

Emily and Reid both reached to squeeze my breasts. I moaned and tugged against all of their holds. “They love to squirm,” Emily explained.

“We can fix that. Morgan—“ Rossi glanced over his shoulder to see Morgan passionately kissing Garcia to ease her nerves. “Never mind. Aaron—“

“On it.” Hotch got up from his seat to walk over to the ropes hanging on the walls. “Four?”

“Better make it five, just to keep their hips down.”

I made another weak attempt to pull away from them, but the four of them only tightened their grips on me. Rossi and Emily, I expected; but JJ and Reid were really surprising me. I think the shock of their change in behavior only made me more wet, though. I couldn’t wait to see how hard they would fuck me.

“Pants,” Rossi said to the other three people holding me. They all worked together to pull my sweatpants off and throw them to the side. I hissed as the cold air hit my cunt. “Fuck… You’re so fucking wet for us.”

Hotch threw the five separate ropes onto the bed, then returned to his seat. Rossi released me with one hand so that he could start tying my right ankle to the bottom right bedpost. When he was done, he let go of me entirely. I tested the waters by pulling my leg, but Rossi had tied me so tight I couldn’t even bend my knee. I cursed under my breath and gave up. He handed a length of rope to Emily, instructing her to tie my waist down to the bed using the loops on either side of the mattress. She traded spots with Rossi at my left ankle. As he started tying my other ankle up, Emily got to work on my waist. She started by tying one end of the rope to the loop on the left side of the bed, then she snaked the rope under and over me twice before tying the other end to the right side hook.

“Pull,” Hotch said from his seat.

I listened to his order. I tugged at my ankles and bucked my hips around, but I found that I couldn’t do anything but pointlessly squirm around for their own enjoyment. “Fuck,” I whispered, going limp.

“Reid, their arms,” Rossi ordered, hanging him the remaining two lengths of ropes.

Spencer Reid was the real rope master in the group, that much I knew. Throughout our time working together, I figured out that he knew the best ways to tie people up, what Shibari was, and all the different kinds of rope and their purposes. So, when he tied me so tight I was grabbing onto the headboard and couldn’t do anything but stretch my fingers, I actually wasn’t surprised. JJ was, though. She was trying, bless her heart. She was there, and she was interested in all of this, and she wanted to try to do her best, but she always screamed submissive to me. The way she was looking at Emily made me believe that she showed up with the belief that Emily would finally Dom her. Honestly, after watching JJ cluelessly mess with the rope and Emily had to step in, I knew right then and there what was going to happen.

Emily put her hand on the small of JJ’s back, making her gasp and drop the rope in her hands. I watched as Emily whispered something in JJ’s ear, then took her hand and led her to the couch where Morgan and Garcia were sitting. With JJ out of the way, Reid kneeled onto the bed and stretched across my body to start tying my other wrist to the headboard. For a moment, I could take in how he smelled like old books and mahogany. It was intoxicating.

Finally, when I was tied to each bed post, leaving me spread and vulnerable to them, Rossi and Reid took a step back to admire me. I lifted my head off the pillows to look around the room. Hotch was sitting in his chair in the corner, one ankle crossed over his knee, his hands in his lap to cover his erection. Rossi and Reid were standing next to each of my ankles. Morgan was still holding Garcia close, and I could tell that she was finally relaxing and getting into it. I was glad. Emily had JJ in her lap, both of their hands wandering over each other’s bodies, their lips hovering so close they were nearly kissing. I melted.

When Reid ran a finger up my calf, I suddenly tensed again and pulled at all of the restraints. Rossi was pleased with his work on my ankles, and Reid was pleased with his work on my wrists. I could see it in their grins.

“Aaron,” Rossi turned, “do you have cloth scissors?”

“Top right cubby,” he answered, pointing to the black two by two cubby drawer storage we had to my left.

As Rossi stepped away to find the scissors, Reid stepped directly in front of me at the end of the bed, and he put both of his hands on my tied ankles. I couldn’t feel his cold touch until he slowly started trailing up onto my shins. When a gentle, quiet moan left my lips, I could feel all eyes on me. Garcia and Morgan had stopped running their hands all over each other, and JJ and Emily had stopped staring into one another’s eyes long enough to stare at me.

“Please…” I begged uselessly.

“Please, what, baby girl?” Morgan asked from his seat.

My heart skipped a beat. “Something… Anything… Just… Touch me. Please.”

“I am touching you,” Reid teased, his fingers moving up to my thighs. He stopped for a moment, then squeezed them like they were dough. “You’re shaking.”

Hotch and Emily eyed me suspiciously. Yeah, I was shaking because I was a little scared of what was going to happen— but it was a good scared. I was anxious to see where Reid would move next, or how Rossi would use the scissors to cut off my shirt. I was anxious to know when Emily, JJ, Morgan, and Garcia would get involved. I was curious as to if Hotch had told them about his dream, and if they planned to reenact it. I didn’t even know if Hotch was going to get involved at all or if he was just going to sit and watch while he still tried to hide his erection. I was scared because I didn’t know what was going to happen. But I didn’t want them to stop. In fact, I really fucking wanted them to hurry up.

“Mister S,” I whispered, lifting my head again so that I could look at him. What I saw shocked me again. Earlier, he looked at me in a way that said: “I’m going to fuck you sore”, but now he was looking at me in a way that said: “I’m going to torture you until you’re nothing but a screaming whore.” That only made me wetter. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

“Not yet,” Rossi interrupted Reid before he could move his hands to where I needed him most.

I whimpered and fell limp. Rossi kneeled onto the side of the bed, grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt, and pulled it taught before lining the scissors up. I tensed slightly so that I could hold still. As he slowly started cutting, I shivered when the cool metal touched my skin every time the blades opened up before closing down again. When he reached the valley between my breasts, Rossi gave up on the scissors. He set them on the bedside table, then reached to rip the rest of my shirt apart. I yelped quietly.

The second my chest was exposed, I could hear Garcia getting up from the couch to walk over to the bed. Despite the fact that my mind was mainly focused on the way Reid was still kneading my thighs and Rossi was running his hands up and down my sides, my ears were trained onto listening for Garcia’s movements. Next thing I knew, she was standing to my right. I looked at her to see that her eyes were dilated, her lips were swollen from kissing Morgan, and her hands were shaking. I think she was waiting for permission to reach out. Rossi caught on, too, so he gave it. He told her that it was okay, that she could do with me as she wished. No one was going to stop her.

To test the waters, Garcia reached out and immediately pinched my nipple. I gasped and arched my back. Everyone snickered. As she rolled the bud between her thumb and index fingers, I became nothing but a puddle of loose moans. Three different people were touching me, and yet all of them were purposefully missing the one place I needed them most. Hotch liked to tease me— it was his favorite thing to do— and he somehow managed to get more creative with it every time we played, but having seven other people in the room with me, and yet not a single one of them was making a move to fuck me until I saw stars… It was killing me. I needed them. Any of them. All of them. I didn’t care. I just needed something.

Garcia was more comfortable now. She had tested the waters, so now she wanted to do more. Using her other hand, she pinched my other nipple, and she pulled at both of the sensitive nubs lightly.

“Penelope…” I moaned out.

“Shh…” she cooed.

I bit my lip to hold myself back. She pinched and rolled my nipples a little harder. I wanted to scream out for her, but I swallowed back everything I felt for the sake of following the rules. But then I felt a finger run up my wet slit, and I couldn’t help myself. I moaned and thrashed around on the bed until Rossi pulled his finger away from my pussy and brought it to my mouth. I wrapped my lips around his finger.

“See how they’re so needy for any kind of touch, they’ll do whatever you ask.”

So that was what he meant when he requested his odd “teacher roleplay”. Most people interpreted that as a girl in a skimpy school uniform, then her and her partner would pretend like they were a student/teacher dynamic. But this was far from that. He liked talking about me as though I weren’t even there, and it was all for the sake of teaching the others how to tease and use me. I supposed it made sense in hindsight. The one party Rossi did invite us to happened to be at his house. We were running late because we had to drop off Jack at Haley’s house later than anticipated, so we missed the main introduction part of the night where a general scene took place in the living room. Now that Rossi was there, teaching Garcia and Reid about my behavior, I started piecing together that the scene Hotch and I missed had something to do with this roleplay as well.

Rossi pulled his finger out of my mouth. As he asked Morgan to come over, he wiped his finger clean on my chest. When he was out of the way, Garcia bent down to suck my right nipple while her fingers still played with the left. I cried out and kept squirming, though I knew nothing would end up happening because of my fighting. It was like my body was trying to find some way out of the bondage, but Reid and Rossi had ensured that I could barely move. Even the rope around my waist that Emily tied kept me pressed close to the mattress. I could still arch my back when euphoria would hit, but only barely. Rossi noticed, so he crouched down to tighten the rope on the hook. I groaned as I felt the rope pull me down onto the bed until I couldn’t move my hips.

When Morgan arrived at Rossi’s side, I looked up again to see past the group standing around me to spot that Emily already had JJ laying on her back on the couch. Emily’s hands were under JJ’s shirt, massaging her breasts so that JJ would moan, opening her mouth for Emily’s dominant kiss. I gulped and moaned at the sight. I wanted that to be me. I wanted someone to at least be over me already, getting ready to fuck me. The good news was, it seemed like that was where this was all heading, because Reid moved out of the way, and Morgan climbed onto the mattress space between my spread legs. He was palming himself through his pants. Both him and Reid had been hard since entering the house and seeing my obedience, but now that things were escalating, I could tell that Morgan was as eager to fuck me as I was to have him inside of me. But that wasn’t the point of this game they were all playing. I was starting to put pieces together that Hotch must’ve told them to torture me either when they were on the phone hours earlier or when Emily brought me downstairs and they were all waiting up in the living room.

“Fuck, baby girl,” Morgan groaned quietly, bringing two fingers to my entrance. “Is this all for us?” He slowly rubbed the tips of his fingers around my hole, collecting my wetness.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Jesus, Aaron,” Rossi chuckled, “what did you do to them to break them like this?”

Hotch smirked from his seat. “I didn’t let them cum this morning.”

I moaned out as Morgan pressed his middle finger into me. “Thank you, Daddy—” Another moan quickly escaped me as he inserted his ring finger, too. “Thank you—” He pulled his fingers out of me. “No, no, no, no, please. Daddy, please.”

“I like it when you beg, baby girl,” he teased me while slowly circling my entrance.

Garcia moved her mouth to my other nipple, which was when I realized that Reid had moved away from me to grab the nipple clamps. I looked up at him with pleading eyes, shaking my head, playing along with the non-con play he wanted to try. Morgan didn’t give me a chance to think about it too long because he thrust three fingers into me suddenly and curled them directly into my g-spot without hesitation. I cried out, screwed my eyes shut, and tried to buck around, but I couldn’t. I whined. Reid pinched my free nipple between his hand, managing to work around Garcia since she was still busy putting her attention into my other nipple. As he pinched it, I felt the tip of the clamp move around so that he could find the best position to release it. Hotch and I had all different kinds of clamps, but my favorites were the ones that looked like small metal clothespins with a chain connecting both of them together. Hotch must have told Reid that, because I suddenly felt the clamp contract on my hard nipple, and I immediately knew that it was the clothespin because of how painful it was.

I cried out, “Fu—” Rossi pressed a hand over my mouth to shut me up. With me silenced, Morgan started working his fingers in and out of me at a faster pace. My walls tightened around him as I practically screamed into Rossi’s hand.

“They’re so tight,” Morgan said.

“Don’t let them cum,” Reid spoke up. Garcia pulled away from my nipple and moved out of Reid’s way so that he could attach the other end of the clamps. “Just… like… that…” He released his grip on the clamp so it closed down around my nipple. I thrashed around in response to the pain that was racing through me. Reid suddenly pulled at the chain between my breasts. “Stop moving, slut.”

I blushed and stopped moving, despite the natural instinct to do so every time Morgan spread or curled his fingers inside of me. That was when Garcia pressed a single finger against my clit. I moaned her name as she started matching Morgan’s pace, my orgasm approaching fast.

“I’m close,” I warned. Morgan grabbed Garcia’s hand, and they simultaneously pulled away from me. “No, please!” I begged as my walls clenched around nothing. My clue throbbed and ached for Garcia’s touch, yet nothing came. “Shit…” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling in surrender.

They all chuckled at how I gave up.

“Good girl,” Hotch said from his seat.

-----------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @marvelismylifffe @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn

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eye-raq · 4 years

Text

Ember.

Chapter One.

This is an old series that I haven’t touched in forever, probably almost a year now. Since my Wattpad got deleted, the chapters that I had linked there from Tumblr was also deleted. I’m glad that I uploaded to a03 with some chapters so am gonna post the chapters here for those who want to read it again or for first time readers. Enjoy!

Hi. It’s me, Ember. Glad you could join me tonight.

She moaned softly, audio on his Mac Book giving her voice the perfect mixture of allure and innocence. The only light that ignited the space between him was the computer and the little desk lamp that occupied his workspace. The clock read approximately 10:00 PM---right on cue like it had been for the past month now. He sat relaxed on his black leather swivel desk chair, legs spread and dark green sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His dark brown eyes covered in his gold-rimmed specs scanned the computer screen, watching her shadow dance across her walls lit by candlelight. Her bedroom was her main source, and the camera aimed straight ahead overlooking a bed that was covered in gold silk, steps on either side leading up to the mattress like royalty, and a large headboard behind it littered with many candles. He waited with little patience, fingertips grazing the keyboard. His chest heaved when he saw her cocoa colored legs come into view, draped in a black silk robe. She giggled, most likely from the many viewers that were tuning in to watch her put in work. Erik scanned her background, eyes falling on the different movie posters that covered her walls and used easels that were lined up against the lower walls. He guessed briefly that she must be an artist, deciding to store that thought in his long-term memory. Miss Ember focused the camera towards the bed more, before laying her curvy body in the middle of the mattress, black silk robe halfway open and nipples hard pressing against the fabric.

she giggled lightly, “I see we have some eager viewers tonight.” She rubbed her pillowy thighs together slow, red painted toenails curling among each other.

“So, what do you wanna see tonight you greedy men.”

Her lips were painted in glitter tonight and her curly hair lay messily over her shoulders. Erik rubbed at his lower abs slow, mind wondering how her eyes looked since she decided to keep them out of view. Her nose had a small hoop ring in it, and her ears were covered in them too. She had the most beautifully crafted natural body he had ever seen, her curves whining and grinding in the camera purposely. She picked up her favorite purple rhinestone wand, rubbing her hands over it slow, “You wanna see me warm up a bit Daddy?”

She spread her legs, slipping the wand along her slit slow, teasing him. She didn’t give too much away which had Erik damn near screaming in his chest. Come on, baby, stop teasing daddy, He whispered low, legs swinging because of his growing erection.

“Daddy needs to be patient” She whispered as if she were talking directly to him.

She shuffled on her mattress, picking up her phone, sliding through. In the background, a sensual instrumental played out and her teeth grazed her bottom lips lightly. She took no time to remove her robe, her black lace lingerie set coming into view. Damn, Erik spoke low, digging his thumb into the waistband of his sweats. She hummed in a melodic tone, and it sounded almost princess-like as she lay on her belly, her ass facing the camera wiggling it slowly.

“Daddy, make sure you keep your eyes on this thick ass, okay?” She arched her back into the view of the camera, the material sinking in between her cheeks. “Does my daddy like what he sees?” She took her red painted nails, running it along her pussy from behind.

Daddy likes alright. Erik lifted his hips from the chair, lowering his sweats and briefs taking no time to pull out his throbbing dick, gripping it firmly. He stroked it slowly, feeling his limbs twitch after every stroke.The chimes from the many notifications she was receiving rang out multiple times. She twerked her ass in the camera, turning her head a little towards the screen her eyes still shielded. She had a cute gold chain around her neck that hung loosely in between her lips, her tongue grazing it seductively. She paused, thumbing her panties to the side causing one of her shiny lips to peak out like a blooming flower pedal. Erik groaned deep, gripping his full bottom lip with his teeth hard.

“Oh Daddy..”

she lowered the rest of her panties slow, finally letting the fabric rest at the crease behind her knees. That pussy. Erik was always at a loss when he saw it. How she managed to swallow the thick toys she possessed was astounding. It was of a reddish pink color, her lips like milk chocolate that hugged her clit so perfectly. Her inner lips rested against her insides like two half’s of a rose and the shine of it reflected off of her camera. Erik’s mouth watered, and he tried to slow his motions around his dick but it was really fucking hard when Ember looked the way she did.

“Daddy I’m so fucking wet already and I didn’t even do nothing yet.”

She reached up to stroke her lips, drawing her fingers back with separation, the slimy wetness sticking to them like glue. She brought her fingers to her glittery lips, sucking each finger so rough you could hear the suction through the speakers. So fucking nasty. How does that pussy taste huh baby? Erik ran his free hand along his solid chest, eyes never blinking, focusing on her motion without so much as a flicker. She sat up on her knees, her plump ass twerking slow, face shielded by her wild mane, her hands digging into the silk. She turned towards the camera slow, her lips and round button nose in view, tongue scraping across her glitter lips.

“So fucking good daddy, I wish you were here…why’d you leave me huh?” She reached under her, fingers grazing her clit causing her to hiss low, “why’d you leave me behind to take care of myself?”

Daddy wishes he was there lovely…I sware I do.

Erik jerked his stiff dick quick, causing his limbs to rise and shake, before slowing down again running his thumb over his swollen head, pre-cum gliding over the pad of his thumb.

Fuckkkk girl..

Erik lifted his glasses up the bridge of his nose, head leaning to the side in awe, eyes trying to read her from a different angle. She laid her body down slow, turning so that her pussy was in view. Her head tilted to the side on her mattress, full face finally coming into view of the camera causing chimes to ring out, which caused Erik to even hit the like button a couple of times in succession. She had a lace masquerade mask on, with cat ears, and Erik squinted his eyes to try and catch the full frame of her, but she timidly tilted her chin into the crook of her neck, making it a little harder to see. Her fingers were deep in her pussy now, damn near digging over her g spot. The noise of her motions filled the room so loud it made Erik pause his strokes just to admire her. He leaned into the computer, eyes glued to her fingers digging into her sweet cavern, legs spread wide and toes curled. If it was possible to get a taste from licking the screen he would, and his tongue was damn near soaked from the thought of it. “Oooo,” her innocent sounding voice moaned out as she thumbed her clit along with stroking her entrance, head turning from the camera lost in her motions.

“Daddy taste me..” she was whispering low now lost in her actions.

“Daddy punish me..” Erik’s hand was back to his dick now, no care at all that he stroked it quick.

“Daddy fuck me…please” She damn near begged as if he were in that room, and Erik couldn’t take it.

He wanted so bad to bury his dick all the way to her cervix. He just wanted to keep it there and fall asleep with it there, and whenever she moved, he would pump her fast and quick making her cum and cum until she couldn’t give him any more rain; until she was drained.

I love how you want daddy to punish you…

He was breathless now, air leaving his nose quick, his free hand gripping the edge of the desk tight. He jerked his hips to match her fingers pumping quick, her body leaning to one side, suspended in the air, fingers digging and her palm smacking against her pussy.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Erik knew she was close. He could tell by the way her fingers shook, and the way her pretty chubby toes curled every which way in a frenzy. Her heavy chest heaved and she began to wheeze. Erik leaned back in the chair, jerking like crazy, his legs spread wide and his free hand gripping his shoulder for leverage. He lowered his head, eyes squeezed and his mouth agape in shock. He was about to have a big nut, and all of this was because of her.

“Ahh, Daddy. Daddy. Daddyyy!”

She clenched her lingers, crying out. Her liquid poured from her, and like a greedy person, she was rubbing her clit still, causing small bursts to escape her. Erik soon after felt that familiar tug, leaning back in the chair wildly before releasing his seed all over his Lower belly. He shook as he was coming down from his high, lifting his hand to wipe it on his pubic hair. He leaned his head back, eyes falling on her as she placed her fingers in her mouth. She sucked them deep to the point where she was making herself gag, and clearly, the viewers couldn’t get enough of that.

That pussy is fire girl.

Erik sat up in his chair, watching her lift to her knees, her heavy breasts damn near looking at him, her hands brushing her hair from her shoulders. She giggled, her smile wide with these cute little dimples on the sides of her mouth.

“thank you, I do it for you Daddy,” she responded to her viewers the way she knew they liked but it only made Erik feel possessive.

She reached over to pick up her favorite dildo, the one Erik had to admit reminded him of his dick. Maybe it was from the fantasy of wanting to ram his dick in her that made him comparing his dick to the toy, but either way, he rather imagined it that way. He could feel his dick twitching against his thigh, clearly ready for round two and he patiently waited, taking his sticky fingers typing out a message for her to see.

TheGoldenJaguar: Daddy really enjoyed your little show but he’s not finished with you yet 😈

Erik sat back, tongue poking out to grazing the side of his lower lip. Ember gripped her dildo at its base, wrapping her fingers around the balls. She tongued the tip in slow circles, lace covered eyes wide and innocent in the camera. She wrapped her lips around the tip, moaning from the contact while her head bobbed in a circular motion. She popped her mouth off of the toy, spitting a generous amount on it to make it wet.

“When I say I love sucking your dick daddy,” she giggled, biting her lips before sinking further onto the thick toy, her jaws sinking and her eyes never leaving the screen.

Erik damn near lost it. She sucked it that well that it almost felt like she was taking his soul. It almost felt like she was aiming to suck him dry and leave him hungry and weak. He kept his eyes on her like he was staring down at her through his dreads, hands stroking her hair, gripping it tightly, instructing her to keep those pretty doe eyes on him. His thumb grazed his lower lip in concentration, eyes low and hungry.

“Clearly my mouth needs to be filled.”

Ember lowered her mouth onto the dick, burying it to her throat. She kept it there, coughing a little as she sucked lower. Erik grunted, wrapping his arms around his head as he watched her suck that toy like it was running away from her. Spit seeped from her mouth and trailed down the middle of her chest, gagging on the toy with no complaint.

You better suck that fucking dick girl.

Erik jerked his leg to calm himself from gripping his dick. He shook his head in awe as she twirled her tongue around the toy, finally releasing it from her mouth, a trail of spit leaving her plump mouth.

“Did daddy like that?”

Fuck Yes.

“Mmm, Daddy, my pussy is dripping from this dick.”

Ember laid back on the bed, gripping her wand in her hand letting the dildo sit against her wet pussy. She turned on the vibrator, increasing the speed of it. Erik’s hand wasn’t the slightest tired as he jerked again, eyebrows knitted together from just the sight of her alone. He had to have this girl. One way or another he had to have her. She spread her legs wide, leaning them back further with her arms, her head lifting to get a view of the camera. She flicked her tongue over her upper lip, her brown eyes zeroing in on him. He stared back, bringing his hand to cup his balls squeezing them lightly. She took her fingers and spread her lips, her swollen clit poking out like a present. Erik wanted to suck on it so fucking bad, he had to bite his palm to control his tongue. He imagined her writhing and pleading beneath him, his arms holding her in place as he sucked her clit repeatedly, letting her cum into his mouth. He knew her cum had to taste like sweet nectar, and the skin of her inner folds feel like satin against his tongue. Shit, I just want you to sit on my face baby girl..suffocate me.

She rested the wand on her clit gently, her eyes instantly fluttering as if she was possessed, body jerking.

“Daddy, my clit..” she bit at her lip tight, elbows pressing into her legs to keep them apart. She was gonna take all of it, and she was gonna make sure he got the show of his life.

“Daddy, it’s vibrating right on my clit..” she was at a loss, her mouth parted and her eyes fighting to stay focused on the screen

“Daddy, get in me please…” she gripped the dildo with her other hand, bringing it to her entrance letting it slide into her slowly. She froze, her throat going tight and her toes pointing up towards the ceiling.

Daddy got you, baby, I promise I got you. Ima take care of that pussy. Don’t worry princess…

Erik reclined back against his chair, sweaty body sticking to the leather. He kicked off the rest of his sweatpants, legs finally free as he jerked madly. He couldn’t take the feel of the hot leather anymore so he decided to stand, dick pointed at the computer screen almost aiming at her entrance.

Stroke that nasty pussy… that’s it… fuck that shit up girl I’m not playing witchu.

She stroked her pussy and held the wand over her clit, making herself a thriving quivering mess. She was moaning louder now, damn near blowing out Erik’s speakers with her pleads. She shook her head at the feeling, speaking in tongues, wiggling on the bed in a frenzy. She focused her eyes on her pussy eyebrows frowned in concentration, damn near forcing the wand heavily on her clit.

“OH!”

She lifted the wand from her clit, releasing the dildo, her entrance quivering and growing tight as she stilled, head falling back.

Nah, put that shit back on your clit girl, you wanted this you gon’ finish for daddy

Erik waited, chest heaving with his dreads stuck to his sweaty forehead and his glasses fogged. She rested the wand back to her clit, crying out loud, her lower body tilting from the bed again.

“Oh, oh, shit. Omg,” she lifted it again, her head falling back on the mattress. She smacked at her pussy softly, causing her body to jerk.

“Daddy it’s so fucking strong..”

Ember lowered it slowly to her clit again, her body automatically tensing up as she dug her nails into her thighs, scraping her skin. She moved her body a little but it only made it worse causing her to cover her mouth tight, her pussy tilting to the view of the camera. she wiggled from side to side, eyes watering up underneath the lace, limbs shaking. The waterfall that followed was one to remember and Erik had to control his motion by gripping his dick tight. He let out a loud growl as her liquid soaked the silk beneath her. He threw his head back, blowing air through his cheeks in frustration. He wanted to fuck her little ass up so damn bad. He wanted to fuck her guts up, grip her neck tight, repeatedly pound her tight pussy over and over. He couldn’t take it, and he never needed a girl as bad as her.

I wanna stick my dick in this girl so fucking bad, bruh...

His back muscles flexed as he watches her body relax, that same light giggle coming back. She bit at her finger, eyes glued to the screen. The chimes and likes were off the charts and she blushed crimson from the attention causing Erik to obsess even more than he already had.

“You still got one more nut in you daddy?”

Ember gripped her dildo, getting up from the bed. She picked up her camera, aiming it towards her hardwood floor, placing the suction of the dildo there. She kneeled her thick ass over the dildo, jiggling a little before sinking down onto the toy. She hissed low, giving her ass a hard smack before bouncing on the toy like it was the real deal. Erik jerked madly again, his free hand gripping the edge of the desk as he leaned further into the computer. The air from his lungs suspended in his throat, and his eyebrows were scrunched in passion. He felt so good and he didn’t want it to end, watching her bounce on her dildo, the wetness from her pussy glistening it, working that toy like she needed it.

fuck that toy up girl DAMN.

Erik closed his eyes in concentration, his motions becoming more and more sloppy as he jerked his long dick rough. He wanted to meet his end with her like he always did, greedily accepting two orgasms from watching her. She bounced harder, her head falling and her hair shielding her face. Her ass was non-stop and the arch in her back had drizzles of sweat falling there. Erik wanted to lick her skin and pussy clean with his needy tongue and it made him want to cum even harder.

fuck… I just wanna cum.

He was moaning now, jerking his hips with his motions.

“Daddy I need you to cum for me.”

His entire being focused in on her words. “Cum for me daddy I want that shit deep in me.”

She looked back at the camera, her eyes low and lustful.

“Daddy I deserve it don’t I?”

yes you do

“I deserve to be fucked like this don’t I?”

mmmm, FUCK yes…

“What else do I deserve for being a good girl daddy?” She slammed down hard on the dick, voice rising.

You deserve to cum all over that fucking dick.

His lower belly began to tighten, and so did hers.

“I deserve to cum daddy? because I wanna cum so fucking bad.”

She lowered her body, hands spread against the floor, the strength of her hips rocking along the dildo.

“Daddy…yes… YES, DADDY. yes… its cumming”

She bit at her forearm eyebrows knitted.

shit baby Daddy cumming too…

Erik threw his head back body stiffening

FUCKKK!!!!

He jerked forward roughly, his cum flying and spilling all over the computer screen, dripping right over her ass She stilled over the dildo, face cradled in the crook of her arm, liquid, and cream dripping and pooling around her. Both Erik and Ember were still, breathing uneven and horse. Erik sat down on his chair, sinking into the leather weakly. She lifted from the floor, grabbing up her camera, and placing it back where it was.

“Well. Daddy, that was really good,” She rubbed at her sweaty skin, “We can pick up where we left off tomorrow okay?”

She blew a kiss at the camera, waving seductively before leaning forward, ending the live video. Erik sat still, eyes glued to his cum covered screen, before tilting his head back, eyes focused on the sky view of his LA home.

Fuck.

Erik spoke in barely an audible,

Does she really live in New York?

#killmongrer #killmonger smut #Erik Killmonger #black panther killmonger #nahimjustfeelingit #eye raq

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raindropsbarzy · 4 years

Text

motivation*

summary: he always wants you all the time. he just needs a bit motivation to eventually give in

word count: 1973

warning: just a lot of 18+

“stay with me longer, maty”

Mat smiles tenderly at the name you call him as you pepper soft kisses across his jawline and up to his cheekbone. large palm grazing on your naked back, feeling the gentle skin under his fingertips. your thigh drapes over his naked torso, humming a deep sigh of relief when your lips keep touching his skin.

“I can’t baby. I’ve got practice, don’t i?” he replies, feeling your mouth forms into a pout and hears you huff out a disappointed sigh. “but I’ll be back at 4 and give my girl anything she wants. Sounds good?”

he moves his head and looks down at you, kissing the top of your head. Your eyes find their way to meet up with his beautiful ones, melting at the sight of his messy chocolate hair and naked chest on display just for you to see.

“I think i may have gripped your hair way too tight, last night” you decide to ignore his last question and open up another conversation.

with a deep chuckle, his hand moves to place it on your leg, a little bit under the curve of your ass. “I didn’t mind it last night and sure as hell don’t mind it right now.”

your lips curve into an exciting smile as you sit up straight, setting your elbow on the soft mattress to support your weight. “What do you say we recreate of what went down last night?” wiggling your eyebrows at him,

this time he lets out the loud laugh that you adore, shaking his head at how needy you are for him. “Not going to work, y/n. Coach is gonna kill me if I’m running late. Plus, don’t you have work today?”

“Pole dancing class doesn’t start in another four hours. I gave my students a bit more free time, they’re extremely exhausted from the last week’s practice. And i’ll be watching over my bar at around six. No longer than thirty minutes. Luna is coming with me.” You explain it to him, moving your long dark hair to the back as you shuffle under the blanket, watching him smiling at you as he bites his lip.

You smile back at him, “what?”

He gives you a shrug. “My girlfriend is a pole dancer slash pole dancing teacher, and manage one of the most successful bars in New York. Couldn’t ask for a sexier woman.” planting a wet kiss on your exposed neck. “Not to mention, you’re smart as fuck and play volleyball. I hit the jackpot, eh?”

You giggle at him, moving his head away from your skin and grabs the back of his hair. “I hit the jackpot too, baby. Got one of the sexiest men in the NHL who won the Calder trophy and skate like the fucking ‘Flash’.”

“Mhmm, that’s me” he smirks,

“Sooo” you trail off, reaching up to give his shoulders a firm grip, feeling them tense. “I wanna show my boyfriend a little appreciation--”

“Sweetheart, again. as much as i want you to, i can--”

“By giving you a blowjob”

He chokes mid-air after hearing you. Looking up into your eyes and realizing that you’re not playing around. With your naughty smile and seductively licking your upper lip, showing him that you’re not letting him go before he says yes.

As horny as this sounds, he wouldn’t mind being late to the practice because he cannot refuse his girlfriend to suck him.

He stammers a bit, your eyebrow raises at his attempt to say something. Large palms grabbing onto your naked waist as he pulls you closer to him.

“I guess i can tell the team that i overslept this morning.”

That makes you giggle as you slide yourself down to his pants, eyes never looking away from his. Dipping your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxer brief, listening to the sharp breath he takes before closing his eyes to calm himself.

“Good choice, baby.”

you and mat are sitting at the VIP’s booth, celebrating Lee’s birthday party. Few of the boys come with their girlfriends, drinks in their hands as they shamelessly make out with drunk giggles spill out of their mouths, causing a few cheers to erupt from the crowd. You cuddle with mat as he brings both of your legs and places them across his lap. His palm feels warm when he rubs your bare thigh.

“Sooo Y/N” Your eyes snap towards Grace, who has Ander’s arms around her waist pulling her close. “How’s work?”

“Pretty good. My legs are killing me right now actually due to this morning class” You chuckle, unaware of Mat looking at you as you speak. “The students are doing great. They followed my instructions pretty well. None of them break any pole... yet”

The whole table laughs at your statement as you sip your drink. Smiling and lean your temple against the couch, catching Mat’s inflated pupils looking at you adoringly.

“Ever thought about becoming a stripper though, babe?”

Grace’s question--which a joke--quickly pulls Mat out of his thoughts, tearing his eyes away from you and furrows his eyebrows. You, on the other hand, laugh hysterically.

“Grace come on, stop giving my girl crazy ideas! Her man is sitting here, for crying out loud!”

She shrugs her shoulders and gives an innocent smile. “Why not? Strippers make a lot of money”

“That’s true” You agree, wanting to see how he’ll react more.

He looks over at you, not noticing your playful smile as he points a finger. “Hey now missy, stop that.” And looks back at Grace. “Again, she’s my girl. There is no way i’m letting other men seeing her half-naked and shaking her ass in front of anyone” He snakes his arm around you, pulling you even closer.

His best friend, Tito laughs and shakes his head then say “Such a whipped motherfucker.” causing others to agree and laugh,

But Mat doesn’t care. yeah, so what if he’s whipped for you? He loves his girl so much and there is no fucking way he’s okay with old bald men touching his naked girlfriend. Would probably beat them to pulp one by one.

“Down, boy” you giggle, planting a quick kiss on his exposed neck making him shiver. “Let’s get you to relax, yeah? Come with me, baby.”

you swing your legs off of him and get up from the seat, intertwining his hands as he stands as well. Setting his empty glass on the wooden table.

“Be right back, guys. Need to loosen this one up.”

“If by loosen do you mean ‘fucking in public bathroom’?”

Honestly, you don’t know who says it but it makes you cackle. As a response, you throw a middle finger and hear the table cheer for it.

“Go get some, Barz!”

He laughs, slapping Tito’s shoulder. “i always do, man.”

And with that, you guide him to the restroom through a sea of dancing sweaty bodies. His eyes glued to your ass the whole time you walk in front of him. the small tight black dress compliments your figure, especially from this view. His teeth catch his bottom lip, chewing on it.

“Damn” He lets out, not having any more self-control he pulls you in so your back hits his chest, hearing you yelp.

“Easy, tiger. we almost made it.”

He hums, placing both of his hands on your stomach. Feeling himself growing hard as your plump ass brushing against the material of his jeans. “Can’t. You’re looking so hot tonight, i can’t control it.”

A soft giggle sputters from your lip as he attaches his mouth on your neck. Pushing the bathroom door open and quickly lock it so no one can get it.

“We have to be quick, okay?”

Mat spins you around and lifts you from the ground, placing you on the bathroom sink. Moving his mouth to yours, making out with you sloppily “Quick? I can be quick” He mumbles against your soft red lips, long fingers digging the inside of your thighs and spreading them open.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, feeling eager for his touch. He hikes your dress up, just enough for him to pull your panties down. removing his mouth from you and shift his eyes down. Groaning softly at the sight of your glistening pussy.

“Fuck you’re so wet. Trying to kill me are you?” He breathes out a laugh and a smile plaster on his face.

“Maybe so” You tease, biting your lip as you lean back a little. Watching your boyfriend unbuckling his belt and pull his hard shaft out of the briefs, pumping it fast while you tease him more by circling your clit at a soft pace.

His other hand grips onto your waist and stepping closer. “Move your hand baby”

You oblige and extract your hand from your wet mound. Getting wetter at the view of your boyfriend pumping his long hard cock, grunting deeply before slipping the tip inside you.

The two of you sigh in pleasure, your eyes fall shut as he thrust in the entire length inside you. “Holy fuck you’re so tight.”

When he’s fully inside you, both his hands firmly grip your waist and start thrusting in and out, causing moans to keep falling out of your mouth. His eyes move to look at you. Tapping his thumb against your chin,

“Look at me, baby”

Though it’s a struggle, you manage to open your eyes and find him already staring back at yours. Hissing and moaning every time he thrusts faster into your pussy, the sound of skin slapping fill the entire bathroom.

“That’s it. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you baby?” He praises with a smirk, a loose curl falling over his forehead as he watches you tremble. “Taking me so good tonight. Know exactly how to make me happy.”

“Oh fuck, Mat” you moan out his name, throwing your head back in pleasure. That encourages him to go even faster on pounding your pussy, grunting loudly. “Fuck me so good.”

“Yeah?” He removes a strand of hair from your face and his hand moves down to pull your tits out of the dress, quickly latching his mouth around your nipple. Sucking and gently biting the sensitive area.

“Right there, baby. Don’t stop, fuck!” You beg. Grabbing onto one of his broad shoulders, holding tight to it as he keeps going hard.

His eyes look up to you, keeping your head fall back and jaw drops open due to the ultimate pleasures he’s giving you. Makes him so cocky and burst out in pride seeing his girl writhing under his touch. “Gonna cum baby?”

You can only nod your head and mutters out ‘uh-huh’ as you ball your fists tightly, feeling your legs beginning to be sore and about to reach your high.

“Me too.” He hums out, standing back straight and watches your entire body responding perfectly to the thrusts he’s giving you. “i-i’m cumming”

After a few thrusts, he then groans loudly, squeezing his eyes shut and release his warm load inside of you, knowing you on the pill he feels relieved,

You follow soon after, clenching your stomach as you explode all over his cock. coating it with your cum.

He pants heavily, slowly pulling away from you as he sees you trying to recover from everything. Chest glisten with drops of sweat and breasts still out, noticing the few red marks around the areola,

Chuckling deeply soon as you open your eyes look at him. Giving him a tired yet satisfied smirk, making him lean down and give you a wet sloppy kiss before pulling away completely to help you clean yourself and tuck himself back into his pants.

“I’m one lucky, whipped motherfucker, all right.”

omg this suck i apologize, it’s 2 am from where i live lmao

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal #mathew barzal imagine #nhl imagine #hockey players #hockey imagine #ny islanders #new york islanders imagine #barzy

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avintagekiss24 · 5 years

Text

The Mansion Maid > Ransom Drysdale

PAIRING; Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 3,503

WARNINGS; dub-con, mutual masturbation, hand job, vaginal fingering, Ransom being an asshole, swearing

REQUEST; Meg’s best friend from college needs a job, so she ends up being one of Harlan’s new maids and Ransom takes an interest in her. Face claim Kat Graham.

NOTE; Please heed the warnings, guys. You are responsible for what you consume. I’ve done my part, please do yours. Ransom is a douche in this one, but, what else is new! Hope you enjoy :)

“Meg, seriously, thank you so much.” You say as you hug her tightly, “This means so much.”

She scoffs, “Don’t worry about it. Granddad has always loved having pretty, young girls around the house. He’s the one that should be thanking me.” She laughs.

You smile and stare up at the old, beautiful mansion sprawled out before you. You blink slowly as Meg pulls your bags from the car, chatting all the while, but you don’t really hear anything she says. You’ve never seen a house like this - in the movies, yeah - but never in real life. You couldn’t even really quantify just how rich Meg’s family was until this moment as you stand in the driveway. The Thrombey family is filthy, stinkin’ rich.

“Uh, hello? You still with me?” Meg laughs as she slams the door to her Audi.

You cover your face with your hands, giggling a little as you shake your head, “Sorry. I’m nervous.”

She loops her arm within yours and pulls you into her side, “Don’t be. We don’t bite, promise.”

She starts to pull you towards the front door, passing by an older model BMW. You scrunch your face a little as you pass by it, the age of it taking you by surprise. It looks to be in good shape - sparkling a little in the sunlight - not that you know anything about cars to be honest. Maybe it’s the old mans’, you think to yourself as you take the two steps onto the porch before following Meg into the lavish home.

“Granddad! Marta! We’re here!”

“Will you keep your voice down? Jesus.” A deep voice sounds from the study to your left, causing you both to snap your heads towards it.

Meg scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes as a tall, dark haired man emerges from the room. Your lips part a little as he moves right up to the two of you, completely invading your personal space. You glance up at him as he towers over you but immediately avert your eyes when you find his intense gaze already on you. You swallow harder than usual, shrinking into yourself a bit, as you feel his eyes roam up and down your body.

“Fuck off Ransom. Where’s granddad?”

He shrugs, backing up to lean against the door frame. You glance back up at him just as he pops a small, round cookie into his mouth and chews it slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

He nods in your direction before skipping his eyes over to Meg’s quickly, “Who’s this?”

“None of your business. Where are Marta and granddad?” She asks again, more stern this time.

“Did you not see me shrug? I don’t fuckin’ know, he’s out with the help I’m sure.”

“Her name is Marta, you prick.” Meg rolls her eyes again and grabs you by the arm, pulling you up the stairs, “You’re such an asshole.”

“I asked you a question, Megan. I expect an answer.”

You stop at the sound of his voice. You watch as Megan turns slightly and leans against the banister.

“And I answered you, dickwad.” He continues to stare at her, popping another cookie into his mouth. She relents, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “This is my friend from school. She’s gonna be helping around here for the summer for some cash. I didn’t know I had to get your approval as well, you know, since you don’t live here.”

He chuckles as he chews and slides his eyes over to you once again. You swallow hard as he looks you over slowly, taking his time with taking you in, “More help, huh? You speak English?”

Meg groans loudly, grabbing your arm again, “Don’t pay him any mind. Come on.”

Ransom. You jog up the stairs behind Meg, turning slightly to glance at him over your shoulder. He stares at you as you move, smirking slightly as he pops yet another cookie into his mouth. He lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers at you before pushing away from the door frame to disappear back into the study.

You follow Meg into her room and close the door behind you before plopping down on the bed beside her, “Who was that?”

She rolls her eyes deeply again, waving you off, “Don’t worry about it, he’s a fucking tool.”

“Who is it? Your brother or?”

“Oh, God no. He’s my cousin. My aunt Linda’s son.”

“Oh,” you answer, not able to get those blue eyes out of your mind, “What um, what does he do?”

She laughs a little as she stands and starts unpacking her bag, “You mean besides being the resident asshole? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. He’s a spoiled ass brat, who lives off my aunt Linda and granddad.”

You nod slowly, “So, he lives here, then?” You swallow again, not really sure if you could deal with this feeling all day, every day for three and a half months.

Meg picks up on your uneasiness and stops moving around the room. She walks over to you and takes your hand in hers, a bright smile on her face, “Do not let him scare you off. He lives like a half hour away. He comes over long enough to beg for money and then he fucks off again.”

You let out a breath and smile back at her, “Okay. Sorry, he’s just kinda… I don’t know.”

She kisses your cheek and goes back to her dresser, “For the third time, he’s an asshole. Don’t let him intimidate you, okay? You just wait until you meet granddad. He’s going to love you and between him and I, we won’t let Ransom pick on you.”

You nod your head quickly as you tuck some hair behind your ear. You take another breath and push it out quickly before you flash another wide smile, “Cool.”

--------

A few weeks have passed and they’ve been a blur, but you’re settling in quite nicely. Harlan is a delightful old man; funny and smart - and still as sharp as a tack. Marta and Fran are both kind and warm, taking you under their collective wing and showing you the ropes of the routines that flow through the mansion. You’ve met most of the family by now, each one just as opposite as the other, leaving you to wonder how they’ve all existed this long without killing each other. You like them all though, each for a different reason, except for Adolf Jr. aka Jacob, who’s questioned your citizenship more than once because “you look too exotic to be American”, and of course -

“Ransom,” You sigh loudly as he shoulder checks you in the hallway, knocking you back a few steps, “Jesus.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” He says, cutting his eyes back towards you, “You call me Hugh. Only my family calls me Ransom.”

You flip him off and roll your eyes as you continue down the hallway in the opposite direction, mumbling a fuck you under your breath. You head up the stairs with a pile of sheets and an assortment of cleaning supplies in your hands and move into the Harlan’s bedroom. You toss the supplies on the bed, before retreating to the hallway closet to fetch some fresh towels. You move back into the room and shut the door behind you before shoving your airpods into your ears, letting Doja Cat distract you as you start to strip the bed.

You hum as you move around the large mattress, tossing the used sheets to the floor as you sway to and fro to Say So.Your thoughts soon turn back to the brief encounter you had with Hugh just minutes before. Prick. He’s gone out of his way to make you down right uncomfortable since the moment you stepped foot in the house.

He stops by just to fuck with you it seems. He’ll suck down those disgusting cookies and throw the empty bag to the floor, because he knows you have to pick it up. He’ll knock magazines off the coffee table, track mud through the kitchen, leave random plates and drinking glasses all over the house - only to lean against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, with that stupid smirk on his face as you pick up after him.

That’s another thing he likes to do - watch you. You feel his slimy gaze on you for hours out of each day, just following you around as you move throughout the house. At first it bothered you, but now? You just glare back at him and scrunch your face in disgust before you carry on with your work. Harlan, and recently Walt, have chewed his ass a few times for messing with you. You’re not intimidated anymore, you’ve got back up.

His gaze has seemed to change over the past few days though. It’s less I’m watching you to make sure you don’t steal anything, to I’m watching you just to watch you - like you’re his prey. You’ve caught him staring at your legs on the days you’ve opted to wear shorts. You narrow your eyes at him as he ogles you, but he doesn’t care. He just keeps right on staring at your long limbs, his breaths deep and steady, sometimes dragging his tongue across his bottom lip or even sinking his teeth into it.

The family has a weekly Sunday dinner, which you’ve been happily invited to each time. It’s a chance for you to wind down, actually be a person around them and not just another one of the staff. At the last one, just a few nights ago, you were exhausted. Meg had you out on the town until after dawn before letting you have only a few hours of sleep before she pulled you off to another adventure. For dinner, you slipped into a tank top, a loose, thin zip up hoodie, and pajama shorts. Your hair was loose, falling into your face as Richard went on and on about politics. Your hoodie kept slipping off of your shoulder, exposing your skin and cleavage.

You shifted in your seat, swiping at the hair in your face before you randomly threw your eyes at Ransom quickly. You had to do a double take. You squinted at him in disgust as you caught his wandering gaze on your chest, like he was transfixed - hypnotized by the slit of your breasts. He cut his eyes up to yours seconds later and cocked his head in defiance as the two of you stared at each other. You lifted your hand and extended your middle finger again, drawing a quick, low chuckle out of him before he dipped his eyes back to your cleavage. You rolled your eyes and zipped your hoodie all the way up before letting out a huff and focusing back on Richard.

You had trouble sleeping that night. There was a battle brewing inside of you. You couldn’t stand him, but something in you, dare you say, liked having his attention. Whenever you caught his eyes on you, you’d get all warm - tingly. Sure, you’d flip him off and rush off in a huff but sooner or later, a sly smile would spread on your lips. You liked teasing this disgusting man. It felt… good - but of course, that is what bothered you. You shouldn’t be flustered or flattered by his behavior, you should be outraged, but yet you never say a word to anyone.

A piece of you likes the fact that you are the one thing that he can’t buy and maybe, that’s why you enjoy this little game so much. He’s a bastard, but he’s a rich bastard who can have whatever his selfish ass wants - except for you. That’s your little contribution to the working class people, denying a rich asshole an unearned pleasure.

You finish making the bed and move into the bathroom where you squirt a healthy amount of Windex onto the large mirror. You wipe it away and move to the sink and counter, then the shower, and finally the toilet. You flush it once you’re finished and stand, wiping your forehead with the back of your gloved hand. You let out a breath and turn to exit, but scream when you’re surprised by someone in the doorway.

“Fuck, Ransom!” You scream as you clutch your chest, slamming your eyes shut.

He laughs before tilting his head, “Hugh.”

“Fuck you.” You bite back at him, pulling the gloves off your hands and tossing them into the trash before you push past him aggressively.

You grab the pile of dirty sheets from the floor and turn to leave the room when he stops you, grabbing you by your arm. You shrug out of his grasp roughly as your eyes bounce back and forth wildly between his.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks calmly.

You rip your airpods out of our ears and shove them into your pocket, “I’m working, okay? I don’t have time for this.”

He chuckles again as his eyes wander around your face and then dip down to your chest, “You’re a little fuckin’ cock tease, aren’t you?”

You scoff and try to move around him but he grabs your arm again and whips you around his body, “What the fuck is your problem? Huh?” You shout, dropping the sheets back to the floor, “Why do you have to fuck with me all the time?”

He shrugs, “I don’t have a problem.”

“Then why won’t you leave me alone?” You ask angrily, your eyes squinted as your chest starts to heave, “I don’t bother you one bit.”

“Oh, you bother me,” He starts slowly, “Like I said, you’re a cock tease baby.”

He takes a step towards you, and then another until he’s towering over you. You stare up at him, your chest bumping into his as you breathe deeply. You keep your jaw tight as he lifts his finger and drops it on your chin. You swallow hard as he starts to drag it down your neck and to your chest. Your lips part as you stare up at him. You blink furiously as his finger slips down to your breasts.

You snap to your senses within seconds and slap his hand away, but his quick reflexes have you caught in his arms before you know it. You squirm in his grasp, desperately trying to free yourself but with each pull and tug, he seems to grasp you tighter and tighter. You push on his chest with your small hands as you plead for him to let you go. He drops a hand to your jeans and pulls at the button to pop it open. He unzips them quickly and before you can stop him, he shoves his hand into your panties.

You tense as you feel the flesh of his fingers against the flesh of your sex. Your eyes go wide as you ball his tattered, white sweater in your hands as his fingers push through your folds to tease your slit. You watch him as he watches you, his eyes searching yours as his lips part. He smirks at you after a moment or two passes, and then chuckles again.

“Fighting turns you on?” He asks softly, noting the wetness that covers his fingers, “Me too baby girl.”

You grab his wrist with both of your hands and pull his hand from your body but your strength is no match for his. He shoves his large hand back into the front of your jeans, his fingers pushing through your lips, circling your clit before pressing against it. You tense at the pressure. Your eyes flutter as a flash of arousal ripples through you. You tighten your grip on his sweater as your heart beats against your chest.

He rubs your clit in slow circles at first, but then quickens them out of nowhere. It starts to feel good - it’s been too long since you’ve been touched like this. You widen your stance, allowing him a little more access to your cunt. Your hips start to roll against his fingers as your throat goes dry. You bite down into your bottom lip as you pump your hips forward, small moans and whimpers falling from your lips. You feel his eyes on you as he fingers you - feel his warm breath on your face.

You gasp suddenly as he thrusts two fingers into your cunt without so much of a warning. You wrap your fingers around his biceps, squeezing them tightly as he starts to pump his digits in and out of you. Your moans grow louder as he gets rougher, slamming his fingers into you with force as his palm caresses your swollen, tingly clit.

“Fuck, Ransom,” you hiss as you rock your hips into his palm.

“Hugh,” he says gruffly.

“Hugh,” you breathe, your voice shaking with each thrust of his fingers, “Hugh, Hugh, Hugh.” You repeat in ecstasy.

“That’s right baby,” he groans, grabbing a handful of your left breast with his free hand, “Say my name girl.”

You throw your head back as you continue to push your hips forward, “Oh, Hugh. Yes.”

You let your head roll forward again as you drop your hands to his pants. You fumble with the button, and then the zipper, but soon push your hands into the front of his boxers to grab his cock. He hisses at the contact and the warmth of your hands, and his fingers falter for just a second. You start to stroke him, teasing his slick slit with the tips of your fingers before you slide them back down his shaft.

You stand mere inches from each other, fucking one another with your hands while Harlan and Marta are just a few rooms away. You can feel your climax building as Hugh pushes his free hand up into your shirt. He pulls your breast free of your bra and starts to play with your nipple, rolling it between his fingers before he pulls and tweaks it, arousing you further.

You pump him hard and fast, feeling the warm dribbles of precum on your fingers. Your hips thrash against his hand, desperate for a release. Shivers begin to run up and down your spine as your body begins to jerk and tense. The small grunts and moans from Ransom only add to your arousal and soon, you are overcome with your orgasm.

Ransom has to clasp his hand over your mouth as you cum around his fingers. You shriek into his palm as the waves of your climax wash over you, each crash stronger than the last. You bite down on the palm over your mouth as your hips continue to work against his other hand and fingers.

Ransom soon follows at the sight of you cumming before him. You feel the warmth of his spunk in your hand and on your fingers as he spurts over and over again. You hum as you continue to work your hand up and down his throbbing, jumping shaft. In an act of quick weakness, he rests his forehead to yours as his body works through his own release. The two of you stand there, chests heaving, breaths heavy as you recover from your devious deed.

He pulls his hand out of your pants, leaving you empty and slightly sore. You remove your hands from his cock and take a step back. You watch as he lifts his pruney fingers to his mouth before he licks them clean, humming lightly as your tangy juices excite his taste buds.

“That cunt might be my new favorite snack.” He offers, before sucking on his digits again. You watch as he moves away from you and heads for the door, “Clean yourself up and get back to work, maid.” He says gruffly again, cutting his eyes back at you.

“Yes Hugh.” You say sweetly, offering a small smile.

He rewards you with a smile of his own, “Good girl.” He opens the door and takes a step before turning back to you again, “You’re here until when again?”

“End of August.”

He raises his eyebrows as his lips quirk into a smirk, “Lovely. I’ll be back for you.”

“Will you now?” You ask seductively, tilting your head.

He smiles again, “You’re mine now. I take what’s mine.

He slams the door behind him.

You move into the bathroom and wash your hands slowly, unable to wipe the stupid smile off of your face. You redo your short ponytail and wipe at your forehead with your wet finger tips, ridding your skin of the small beads of sweat. You button and zip your jeans before smoothing your hands down the front of your shirt. You shove your airpods back into your ears as Saweetie fills your head. You move back into the room and collect the dirty sheets in your hands again before getting back to work.

This job ain’t so bad.

#Ransom Drysdale #Ransom Thrombey #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom thrombey x black!reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey smut #knives out fanfic #knives out reader #knives out smut #ransom x you #you x ransom #you x ransom drysdale #you x ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale x you #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out x reader #avintagekiss24

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victimeyez · 4 years

Text

Buck and Fletcher 2: Electric Boogaloo

Fanfic for @knivestothroats In The Woods Somewhere - click for masterlist

This one is actually so long I had to break it into parts, tags will be listed at the beginning of each chapter for the chapter, and links to the other parts here:

Part 1: X Part 2: X Part 3: Here Part 4: X Part 5: X

Buck becomes the unwilling guinea pig for the trainees while Fletcher is away.

Tags: Captive whumpee, multiple whumpers, intimate whumper, suggestive behavior/jokes, electricity torture, graphic depictions of torture, the trainees are super fun to write, bondage, being dragged/manhandled, gags, not medically accurate don’t @ me

Buck did his best, but he was easily captured by Petrova and the others. He screamed into his pillow while they bound his arms behind him, tape wrapped in a thick layer from his wrists to his elbows, wrenching his shoulders back painfully and holding them there.

Scared, angry tears wet the pillow beneath him as he sobbed. As ridiculous as it was, all he could think about was how incredibly betrayed he felt. He had asked Fletcher nicely, Fletcher had agreed, locked him in, and then...what, gave them the key anyways? Fletcher could do whatever they wanted to to him with absolutely no repercussions, why even bother lying to him? Whenever he thought he might have a clue about Fletcher, they turned around and confused him all over again. Buck seemed to always be wrong about them - and it always got him hurt.

Dayal finished binding him, straddling his ass in the bed and enjoying the humiliating position a little too much. He ground his hips against Buck’s ass, making the prone man whimper into his bed.

“Come on Buck, don’t you wanna play?”

Buck felt hands sink into the mattress on both sides as Dayal leaned in, nuzzling into his hair, before Petrova swatted him.

“No time for that, we have experiment to do.”

Dayal chuckled but pulled away, hopping off Buck.

“Another time then, if you’re lucky.”

“Gross,” De Luca commented helpfully.

“Shut up and help me.”

In their greatest display of teamwork yet, they dragged a squirming Buck out of the room and all the way into the kitchen.

Buck was already getting tired from fighting, but his vigor renewed when he saw the car battery on the table.

He almost got away for a moment, trying to scramble to his feet to run, but a hard kick to the crotch brought him back to the ground.

“Nice,” said Petrova.

“Thanks,” O’Connor replied, a little proud.

They cuffed him to one of the sturdier wooden chairs, sat beside the car battery on the table. A pair of metal clamps were already attached to the battery, the other end resting on a ceramic heat pad, the kind you put a hot pot onto so it doesn’t damage the table. Buck almost laughed at the absurdity, but was quickly distracted by De Luca putting on a pair of thick gloves.

“Okay Buck, we are going to shock you now, and you tell us how you feel, okay?”

“Start low, if we start too high he won’t be any good for us,” O’Connor instructed, flipping open a small notebook and producing a pen.

De Luca picked up the clamps, opening and closing them absently for a moment in thought.

“Should we put a wallet in his mouth or something? Can’t he bite his tongue?”

“Eh, I think that’s for seizures,” Dayal replied.

“What’s the difference?” Perova interjected, her eyebrows quirked.

“You know, you’re not actually supposed to put a wallet in someone’s mouth if they’re having a seizure? You’re just supposed to hold them still on the ground and like, cradle their head, kinda.” O’Connor mused, nibbling the tip of her pen.

“Well, if he bites off his tongue, Fletcher might get mad.” De Luca looked at Buck seemingly deep in thought.

“I think we should do it just in case, just when I’m shocking him.”

“Well I’m not putting my wallet in his mouth, he’ll drool all over it.”

“Dayal could volunteer his dick,” De Luca mused, and Dayal flipped him off from across the table.

“Just use a dishcloth or something, let’s do this.” Perova sounded exasperated.

Dayal hopped up and grabbed the dish towel from the handle of the oven, holding it taught between his fists like a garroting wire as he walked towards Buck, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

“Open up, Buckaroo.”

Buck, who had largely been in shock, finally started to process what was about to happen and moaned in fear as Dayal approached.

“No, please, come on - did Fletcher put you up to this? You can - can’t you look this stuff up online?!”

He resisted opening his mouth for Dayal, who shrugged to their little audience before freeing a hand, pinching the soft spots of Buck’s jaw in one hand to force it open. Buck hissed in pain but couldn’t resist, and as soon as his mouth cracked open Dayal stuffed it full of dish towel until he gagged.

“You’ll keep that there if you know what’s good for you.”

Buck just moaned, tears trickling down the sides of his face. His mouth was stuffed too full, his teeth forced apart, and it hurt his jaw. He tried to move it a little with his tongue to a more comfortable position, but it only made him choke.

“Start low, only like, 9 Volts.”

O’Connor scribbled it down, and looked up expectantly at De Luca, who adjusted the voltmeter.

Buck screamed into his gag when De Luca held up a knife, but he just rolled his eyes and split Buck’s shirt down the middle, exposing him. With his shoulders forced back, Buck was arched forward, and he felt unbearably vulnerable.

Dayal picked up the clamps, touching them together to produce a small spark that made Buck flinch.

“Uhh...take one, I guess.” He touched the clamps to Buck’s chest and he jerked, forcing out a cry into his makeshift gag, and after a moment the clamps were pulled away. Dayal pulled the gag back out, letting him take in a shaky breath.

“How did that feel? Also, on a scale of one to ten, how much did that hurt?”

Buck flexed his sore jaw, trying to will his frantic heartbeat to slow.

“Come on Buck, don’t be a bitch about it.” De Luca rolled his eyes.

Buck stayed silent. He didn’t want to participate in their little experiment any more than he already had to.

Petrova tapped her fingers on the table impatiently.

“You know Buck, if you not tell us, then we can skip to higher voltages.”

Buck swallowed, his mouth impossibly dry.

“It was...uncomfortable, not so much very painful but very...unpleasant,” Buck closed his eyes, fighting back a sob.

O’Connor scribbled down a note and then looked up, nodding to De Luca.

“Let’s try 12 next.”

Buck opened his mouth to protest, but Dayal took the opportunity and stuffed the towel back in. De Luca adjusted the voltage again and pressed the clamps to Buck’s chest with little flourish.

Buck jolted hard, squeezing his eyes shut hard. Every muscle in his body tightened painfully and buzzed, and there was a hot pain where the clamps touched him. When they pulled away and the towel was removed, he opened his eyes again, blinking painful tears from them

“How did that feel?”

Buck’s body felt weak and twitchy. It was deeply uncomfortable, and he pressed his feet hard against the floor just to try to get some feeling in them.

“Buck.”

“Tingles...tingly? It hurts….my muscles are going...weak.” Trying to talk made his teeth feel like they were buzzing.

He could hear O’Connor’s pen scratching across the paper.

“And on a scale of one to ten?”

“Could I get some water?” His mouth was so dry.

“One to ten, then you can have some water.”

“Ten like….worst pain ever?”

O’Connor tapped the end of her pen against her lips.

“Hmm...ten like, I would tell you anything you wanted to know to get you to stop.”

“Ten.”

De Luca snorted and Petrova rolled her eyes.

“Ten like, I’d rather get stabbed than do that again. And that is real choice,” Petrova offered.

Buck shut his eyes tight until he thought he could see little flashes of light behind them.

“F...five, maybe?”

Petrova nodded and a cup of water was tipped to his lips, making him splutter at first before he drank deeply. He emptied it and whined when Dayal took the cup away.

“You’ll get another once you take 120.”

De Luca prodded at Buck’s chest with a gloved finger, making him gasp in pain.

“He’s pretty pinked here, a decent burn. Might blister.”

O’Connor nodded and wrote some more on her pad, before flipping to a new page.

“Let’s jump to 30, I don’t want this to take all day.”

Buck fought the gag again, but didn’t have much strength and Dayal got his way even easier than before.

“Take three.”

#knivestothroats #in the woods somewhere #fanfic #captive whumpee #shock torture #electric torture #whump

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thetorturerwrites · 4 years

Note

okay Melly-senpai hear me out... Dry humping a fully erect and tied-the-fuck-up Ben Solo to the point where his cock is straining the FUCK out of his pants yet he continues to be the victim of sexual torture to the nth degree OwO

Fae, my beautiful friend, this Ben is based entirely off of your On The Desk Ben; specifically, your most recent chapter. I do hope you like it.

***

“Don’t you have a girlfriend,” you clucked chidingly as you slid the cappuccino across the bar.

Ben Solo, manwhore extraordinaire, stretched across the shiny countertop and tugged on your green apron, pooling it so he could see into the gap and down your blouse.

“Not according to her,” he stroked the tip of his middle finger in a slow line down your cleavage.

“So, you think I’m gonna let you fuck me on a technicality?”

You leaned out of his reach. Ben was liquid sex; and if you weren’t careful, you would absolutely find yourself bent over the new shipment of creamers while he plowed you into stupidity.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you,” he dipped his finger into the coffee and sucked it clean. “Because last time, we got interrupted right before you could beg for my cock.”

You flooded with embarrassed arousal. He wasn’t wrong. Your last encounter was interrupted, and he had spent an hour tasting and sucking on your pussy to the point where you were, in fact, going to beg him to fuck you.

“Ok, Ben.” An idea sparked in your brain, and you chewed your cheek, working it out. “8 o’clock. My place.”

Ben was late. Of course.

“Hey babe, you ready for m--wha-hat the fuck,” he gaped, mouth slack and eyes round.

You’d answered the door in pink lace boy shorts and the tiniest shirt you could find. It cut off just beneath your breasts, drawing his attention. Crowding in, he walked you backwards and slammed the door shut with a kick.

Ben pushed you up against the wall and crashed his mouth to yours, swallowing your surprised squeak. He slid a thick thigh between your legs, pinning you so his hands could wander, fingers grazing your hard nipples. You mewled into his hungry mouth, canting your head to deepen the kiss.

Remembering your plan, you bunched twitching fingers into his coat and pushed at his chest, trying to wiggle away.

“Gonna be a tease tonight? Hm?”

“Shut up.” You ducked out of his embrace. “You were late. Upstairs. Bed. Now.”

His breath caught, the authority in your voice burgeoning a fresh shade of lust across his cheeks. He stepped towards you, clenching his hands impatiently.

“Yeah? Planning to punish me for it?” He advanced on you, but you dodged again, lifting your chin at the stairs.

“Only one way to find out.”

Ben stretched out in the center of your bed, clad only in those sexy tight pants. He palmed himself through the painted-on jeans, crooking his finger to beckon you in. He was infuriatingly beautiful, all hard lines and muscle.

“Turn around.” You swallowed nerves and twirled your finger, patting the foot of the bed.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He eagerly complied, reaching out for your hips and drawing you towards his face.

You gave yourself a minute to enjoy it, the slide of his huge hands against your calves, thighs, and hips. He gave your ass a loud slap, ruining your reverie, and you shoved his hands away, reaching under the mattress for the hidden, heavy strap. You buckled him in, first right hand, then left.

You hummed delightedly at the sight, your weight dipping the bed down as you settled right on his confined, straining cock. He grunted, yanking on the restraints that kept his arms and grabby hands at bay.

“You are a fucking tease.”

Ignoring him, you rocked your hips, grinding and riding, relishing the way his teeth clenched and his shoulders lifted. His lust-ridden eyes dropped to your chest, and you bounced ever so slightly, making them jiggle the way he liked. He growled demandingly and pushed up into you.

Your hips danced, sliding your slick seam against the one in his jeans. You purred because it was just enough drag, just enough of a ridge to tantalize. He stuttered out curses when you gripped the waistband of his jeans and used them as a handle for better friction. The slippery head of his cock just nudging your fingertips with his every ineffective thrust.

“If you don’t get on my dick...” He jolted upwards as though he could work the button and zipper free by virtue of his hips alone.

“You’ll what?” You snapped and stopped moving completely, scowling at him. “Run and tell your girlfriend?”

“Shit fuck,” he croaked and nudged at your back with his knees, trying to get back what his mouth had cost him. “You have to move. Baby, you...have to...GODDAMMIT!”

He jerked against the bonds, but you were already off of him, crouched down, plundering beneath your bed for something. His pleas turned to threats and then to outright objections when he saw it.

“NO FUCKING WAY!”

He fought, twisting his head away and roaring, but you caught him, snatched him up by the damp hair at his nape, and wrestled him into the sadistic accessory.

“You talk too much.” You patted the cheek of the fitted face guard.

Ben, notorious bachelor and all-around slut, was tied to your bed, muzzled and glaring at you like you murdered his family. His hips gave away his desire, jerking and bucking. You traced the outline of his impressive cock and the little wet spot seeping through the fabric.

“Much better.” You crawled back onto the bed, settling your knees on either side of his neck.

He groaned into your leg so loud you felt the vibration through the hard plastic face mask. Cinching fingers into his ebony hair, you turned his cheeks upright and spread your knees apart, sinking your lacy cunt down onto the cover.

“What was that?” You wiggled your hips to jostle his face. “Didn’t quite hear you.”

For a second, you thought he wouldn’t play your game. He kicked at the headboard and thrashed; but then, it came. He looked up the length of your flushing body and moaned again, ragged and needy,the muzzle tickling your pussy and clit.

“That’s it.” You gasped, encouraging him to keep going every time he’d growl, speak, or moan.

You dipped your fingers into your panties, and Ben barked out muffled curses, stomping on the mattress and trying to throw you off balance. Squeezing your thighs tighter, you let his tirade resonate against your opening while you rubbed fast circles into your clit.

When his tantrum stopped, you eased back and gazed at him. You’d reduced him to little more than a mannequin, desperate, red, and sweaty. His hazel eyes were round and glossy, lovely in their mindlessness.

“Want me to fuck you now, baby?” You were breathless, skirting the orgasm.

His hands tightened into fists, he closed his eyes, thankful you were finally going to cater to him, and moaned again. His eager nod lifted a smirk to your lips. You slid from the bed in one fluid motion, and Ben’s body turned toward you, straining to be closer.

“You’re not gonna like this.” You whispered against the shell of his ear, brandishing your last weapon of the night.

Laying eyes on the thing in your hands, he howled and twisted, flopping like a fish out of water, but you were too quick. In a hot minute, you had him pinned and buckled into the taunting contraption.

It was heartless and cruel, but that’s what made it so, so right. He deserved every tormenting moment of his comeuppance.

“Pretty as a picture.”

Phone in hand, you snapped a quick series of photos. The sight of Ben Solo, trussed up, tied down, and sporting your favorite purple harness with its big, black strap-on dick over his pants was just too fucking good.

Stripping quickly, you re-mounted the broken stallion, mimicking that prick wink he always gave you. He grunted and turned his head away, looking 10 different shades of angry and ashamed.

“I told you that you could fuck me, Ben.” You shifted, lined up the latex, and sunk down on it with a hiss. “But I never said how.”

Your lips quivered, framing a moan and a curse. This one was your favorite because it was thick, long, and curved just the right way. You braced yourself against Ben’s chest, digging your fingers into the taut muscles as you wiggled through the burn and stretch.

The sounds coming from inside the facial cage were delicious, a mix of moaning and words you pretended were pleas. They spurred you into a quick, rough pace. Brazen, drunk on this obscene control, you bounced and shook, jarring the entire bed with your debauched ride.

“Shitshitshit.” It tumbled from your mouth each time your hips would connect with his, the slam of your ass connecting with the tilt of his pelvis.

The latex was shiny with your slick now, the plunge of it easy. He fucked at you, hips on auto pilot. He watched the false cock disappear into your body, having unraveled into a mess of leaking eyes, twitching dick, whimpers, and wretched gasps.

What he wanted was so close, your hot pussy right there, but you’d stuffed it with something else, and all he could do was watch.

“How's it feel to be someone's fuck doll, Ben?”

He snorted, and you grinned, sitting up fully on the black monster, breath catching at the wicked fullness. One quaking hand rubbed your clit, and one clutched at a swollen, stiff-peaked breast. Ben's eyes locked on your face, and you never felt so powerful in your entire fucking life.

Your hips rolled, nudging the latex cock right against that spot that made you see stars. Faster and faster, you ground against it, against Ben’s backboard of a body, and furiously rubbed your clit until your toes tingled.

Ben rocked himself up into you, lifting up to bury the dildo in your cunt with a deep, cooperative pace. You shouted as the orgasm bloomed at the very end of that monster cock, surged out from between your labia, and sizzled up through your clit, thighs, and everything else.

"Fuck!"

You purred and pressed your chest against his, sated and incredibly pleased with yourself. Hips still lifting, still dancing, you pondered another round because that was a nice appetizer of an orgasm.

Thinking Ben might truly execute you if you didn’t let him up, you kissed the muzzle, murmuring a soft ‘good boy’ against it, and lifted yourself up with a vulgar shuck.

“Well, this was fun.” You chuckled at how closely he was watching you, working first to unbuckle the harness. “Tell your girl I said hi.”

Free of the wrist restraints, Ben shot up, grabbed you by the neck, and the rest was a blur.

#ben solo #ben solo smut #torturer tuesdays #ben solo imagine #ben solo x reader

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e-milieeee · 4 years

Text

i love you a latte—adrienette

Summary: Running on 5 cups of coffee and the extra boost her transformation gives her, Marinette’s determined to finish her project before the sun rises.

(Adrien’s just here to distract her, and honestly, it’s working.)

Notes: honestly i labelled it adrienette but it has a mix of ladynoir, ladrien and adrienette but its post reveal so it doesn’t actually matter LOLOLOL

Or read on AO3!

Marinette was stressed.

Her desk was a testament of that: it was littered with papers, candy wrappers, string, fabric and the coffee stain from two hours ago that she hadn’t bothered wiping up. The flat wasn’t any better. Like a risky game of jenga, the sink was piled high with dirty dishes. Takeout boxes were stacked just as precariously in the trash. Her closet, a complete and utter nightmare, fared no better. Marinette had a headache just looking at the mess, and thinking about having to clean it made her nauseous. So she just didn’t clean it.

As Adrien often told her, she was awful at dealing with stress.

It didn’t help that the project was due in three days. Marinette had been slaving through it for weeks on end, but the last design was particularly difficult. There was always something that didn’t seem right, but she could never pinpoint it. Now, as the end product was slowly but surely beginning to assemble, and Marinette didn’t have time for distractions. And tidying and doing dishes and sleeping were all distractions.

The clock read two thirty in the morning. If she worked hard enough, she could be finished by dawn. Then, she could sleep all through the morning, wake up in the afternoon, and start the revisions. It was a relatively foolproof plan if she didn’t count the fact that she might not be able to make it until morning.

The fifth cup of coffee just wasn’t doing it. Marinette needed something stronger.

For a moment, she sat still in her chair, contemplating her options. Then a burst of sleep deprived brilliance struck Marinette.

“Tikki,” she called.

Her kwami had dozed off on Marinette’s desk rather early in the night, but she startled awake quickly with a, “Yes?”

“I’m going to transform,” Marinette decided. “It’ll fight off the sleep better.”

“Don’t you think sleeping would be a better option? Then you can work on it in the morning!”

“Sleeping is not an option.” Especially not when she was in the final run, and all she needed to do was finish…

Tikki gave her a look that Marinette was well accustomed to: bad idea, but your choice. Given that there was no verbal or physical resistance, she took it as an agreement, no matter how reluctant. Tikki had witnessed firsthand how wonderfully terrible Marinette was with deadlines and always did her best to accommodate.

“Tikki, spots on!”

A flash of pink later, Marinette was suited and ready to work again. She downed the coffee for good measure, fought back a yawn, and positioned herself in front of the sewing machine.

“I’m Ladybug,” she said aloud, turning to her sewing machine. “I’m Ladybug, and I’m going to finish this—”

A tapping sound interrupted her. Ladybug whirled around. Even her muddled brain could comprehend that if somebody were to see Ladybug sitting in Marinette’s apartment, the dots wouldn’t be so hard to connect.

To her relief, it was a familiar pair of green eyes that blinked at her through the window. Chat Noir was crouching on the ledge, mouthing something that Ladybug couldn’t hear. She scrambled from her chair, nearly knocking her cup down in the process, and slid open the window.

A gust of cool, night breeze swept inside. For a moment, she wondered if leaving the window would help her stay more awake… then a particularly strong gust sent the papers on her desk flying out of order, and she slammed it shut behind Chat.

“What are you doing here?” Ladybug asked when a semblance of order had been restored.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied simply. “What about you?”

She winced. “Final project.”

He eyed the room contemplatively, and it hit Ladybug just how messy everything was. She let out a mortified squeak of shock, but the dirty dishes and takeout boxes and unfolded laundry weren’t going anywhere. “Out!” she shrieked. “Oh my God, out!”

“Plagg, claws in!”

Before Ladybug could shove him back through the window out of embarrassment, it was no longer Chat but Adrien that stood there, hands raised in a placating gesture. She froze. She couldn’t send him tumbling down thirteen stories like she could with Chat Noir.

He was donning the Ladybug pajamas he was so unabashedly proud of, hair loose and messy—his Chat hair. He definitely looked like he had rolled right out of bed.

Slowly, Ladybug backed down with a groan. “Don’t you dare comment about the state of the apartment. I know it’s bad.”

“Wasn’t going to, m’lady.”

“As long as you have food in your fridge,” a grumpy voice interrupted, “I don’t mind how messy it is either.”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at Plagg as he zipped out from Adrien’s hair. “This idiot here couldn’t sleep, so he dragged me up, and for what? Oh, Plagg, I just want some fresh air! Plagg, please? I’ll buy you extra camembert. Plagg, you know how my insomnia acts up sometimes.” Plagg retched. “Fresh air my ass. I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew he was just going to be sticking his tongue down your throat.”

Adrien’s face went pink. “Plagg!”

“Shut up and feed me.”

“Glutton,” Adrien shot back, sticking his tongue out petulantly at his kwami. “Marinette, do you have food? And why are you transformed?”

“Uh,” she managed. She tried to think what was left in her fridge, but her brain wasn’t functioning enough for it. “I think I can focus better as Ladybug? Anyway, there’s cookies in the cabinets for Tikki. Plagg can either eat that or the raw meat in the freezer.”

Plagg, bemoaning how he hated Adrien, floated off to the cabinets in search of sweets.

Meanwhile, Adrien rounded her desk to lean on the other (slightly cleaner) side. “How many cups of coffee?”

Ladybug returned to the sewing machine. “Five. I think it stopped working.”

“I think it’s because you’ve drank so much coffee these past couple years that you’ve slowly built up immunity to the caffeine. Did you sleep last night?”

“Yes.” She paused, counting the time. “Two and a half hours.”

Adrien looked horrified. “Marinette!” he exclaimed. “You still have three days to finish. You need to take a break.”

He was right, but while she did need the break, the project also needed to be finished. Sure, there were three more days, but Ladybug needed to have the wiggle room for revisions and checking and double-checking for perfection.

“If I finish tonight, I have time to relax and revise without stressing about it,” she explained, although Adrien looked less convinced after each word. “I’m already behind schedule, since I’ve been working on the last dress forever and this is the fourth try.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you look like you’re about to pass out.” He gave her desk another scan as if to prove the point. “Seriously, Marinette, you’ll produce better work if you’re well rested and not running on caffeine.”

Once again, Adrien was right. She could barely go ten minutes without scrubbing her face with water or rubbing her eyes and yawning. Then a wave of panic rushed over her. The dress she had been working on had been made when she was not well rested, which meant it wasn’t under the category of better work, which meant she should redo it all from scratch so she could submit her best quality work—

“Marinette,” Adrien interrupted like he knew exactly what she was going to say. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Just sleep.”

“But—”

Before she could formulate the rest of the protest, Adrien had scooped her out of the chair. Ladybug was too tired to put up a struggle. “Have you eaten any fruits or vegetables in the past couple of days?” he demanded as he carried her towards the bedroom. “Wait, have you even been eating three meals? Have you been eating two meals?”

Ladybug scrunched her nose. “What are you, my mom?”

“Your mom would ask you the same,” he shot back immediately. “Seriously, Mari, you need to take care of yourself more.”

Too tired to argue with him, she shut her eyes and curled up against his chest. Sleep was a dangerous thing; once she gave into it, there was no way out. “S’okay,” she mumbled. “You’ll take care of me.”

“Then you better let me do my job.”

She giggled. “You are like my mom.”

“And as your mother, I’m putting you to bed.”

Bed. The word sounded comforting and lovely and warm ( Adrien was all that as well). The last thing she felt was Adrien setting her gently down on the mattress, pulling the duvet over her, and then the rest was oblivion.

***

Marinette woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting into her room. Which was a rare commodity because breakfast was her favourite meal to skip.

The bed was comfortable and warm, blankets tucked all around her. Given her penchant for kicking her covers off in the middle of the night, that meant she had been recently tucked in, and—

Adrien. Everything came flooding back. Adrien was here in her apartment—her unpresentable, messy apartment—and he had somehow coaxed her to sleep last night when she could’ve spent the time finishing up her project. He had also managed to get her to detransform, because she was once again wearing the same clothes she had been wearing for at least two days.

Marinette shot out of bed, now properly horrified. She scrambled. She flailed. She stubbed her toe on the drawer and fled into the living room, where the delightful smell of breakfast was the strongest.

Adrien was standing at the stove, wearing her pink apron, still in his Ladybug pajamas. That wasn’t the most surprising part, though: every mess in the kitchen and living room had been straightened, cleaned, or disposed of.

Marinette gaped.

Having noticed her presence, he turned around and waved, spatula still in hand. Sunlight slanted through the windows and onto the couch—the couch that just last night was so full of clothing and papers that no one could sit on—which was now clear. Only cushions sat in their rightful place. It looked like he had performed a full-on exorcism on the mess.

“Adrien,” Marinette managed aloud, “what happened here?”

He flipped an egg. “I tidied up a little when I woke up this morning,” he replied. “And, uh, restocked a bit of your groceries. You were running low.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “In full honesty, I only got up because Plagg was yelling at me about having no proper sustenance, so I decided to clean to pass the time.”

The little black kwami floated out as if summoned. “Just because Tikki likes cookies,” he sniffed, “doesn’t mean I do.” As if to prove his point, he waved a whole wheel of camembert. Marinette stuck out her tongue at Plagg before turning back to Adrien.

“You had time to clean and get groceries?” she asked. “There was… a lot of stuff around here. Like, a lot. It would’ve taken me at least hours to tidy.”

Adrien transferred the eggs from the pan to the two plates. He gestured at the counter, where the digital clock sat. “It’s eleven, so I had three hours to do all of that.”

Eleven. The realization dropped like a bomb and Marinette nearly screamed. “Eleven?” she yelped, whirling on Adrien. “Why did you let me sleep for so long? Why didn’t you wake me up? I wasn’t even supposed to sleep last night and I’m not finished and this means—”

“Marinette, relax!”

She slowed to a halt. “You still have time,” Adrien continued soothingly, in the specific tone he used every time he needed to calm her down. “I let you sleep in because you need to be well-rested to put out your best work, and you need to eat a healthy, balanced meal in order to focus later. You can work all day afterwards. But right now, we’re going to have brunch together, and you’re not going to think of your project until we finish.”

Marinette didn’t want to wait. The fact that she was so close yet not quite made her uncomfortably jittery and the only remedy would be to work work work so she could just get it done with, but that wasn’t rational or reasonable. Besides, the meal Adrien had cooked smelled delicious and it would be rude to not eat it with him…

Relax, she told herself. I’ll finish in time. It’ll be okay.

Marinette breathed in a full body inhale, then let it out slowly. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, let’s eat.”

Adrien’s eyes crinkled and she felt herself relax slightly. “Just sit,” he told her. “I’m supposed to pamper you today.”

The table was already set, so Marinette slid into the chair as Adrien set down her plate in front of her. On it were the eggs he had been frying, a scallion pancake, strawberries, and a generous serving of hash browns. Ever since his father had been defeated, Adrien started dropping by their family’s bakery more and more, and her mother had taken to both feeding him and teaching him how to properly cook. It turned out that Adrien had what Sabine called the Culinary Touch, because once he started learning, everything he made was heavenly.

Her mug was set down before her, and Marinette let out a squeak of delight. “You learned how to do this?” she asked, beaming at the cream heart decorated perfectly on top.

Adrien gave her a cheeky grin. “I love you a latte,” he announced proudly.

Marinette moaned. “You ruined it.”

“Nah, you love my puns.”

“I love a lot of things about you, but your internet-stolen puns aren’t one of them.”

He feigned hurt, clutching his chest. “All of this,” he cried, gesturing grandly, “was for that pun. I only ask for a minuscule amount of appreciation, Bugaboo, yet you wound me with your insults—”

“Shut up, drama queen,” Marinette laughed, picking up her utensils. “Ugh, I’ve been craving scallion pancakes for so long. And you make these exactly like my mom.”

Adrien preened. “We established that I am your mother last night,” he reminded her.

“I don’t claim responsibility for anything I said, agreed to, or didn’t agree to last night. Also, how did you get my transformation off?”

It was Adrien’s turn to groan. “I had to bribe you into saying Tikki, spots off, ” he grumbled. “You don’t know how hard it was. For someone who put up such a struggle about not wanting to sleep, as soon as you touched the bed, you were out like a light.”

Marinette, not remembering anything that happened last night, was more than happy not to recall. “But you managed it in the end, didn’t you?”

“But at what cost?” Adrien speared a hashbrown. “What would Paris think to know that their beloved Ladybug was actually such a bratty menace?”

Torn between curious and mortified, Marinette asked, “What did I do?”

Adrien gave her a wicked little grin. “I’m not telling,” he sang.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her beg for the answer, Marinette dug back into her breakfast and tried to appear disinterested. Apparent lack of interest was always the easiest way for Adrien to crack.

It only took a minute or so before he spoke up again. “Do you want to know what you did?”

Marinette arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re asking, not me.”

“C’mon, humour me, buginette.”

“Only because you said so, chaton. What deal with the devil did you strike last night?”

He grinned. “I think I’ll save that for another time. You need to get to work soon.”

Marinette glared at him, mentally filing away the fact that she was going to wiggle the information out of him one way or another. Stuffing the last piece of scallion pancake into her mouth, she sat back with a content sigh. “This was good.”

“And it was a well balanced meal,” Adrien added drily, also cleaning his plate. “Which you should be eating despite the fact that you have a final project due. I saw at least three Chinese take-outs in your trash can.”

“One was from last week!”

Adrien wrinkled his nose. “Is that supposed to be better or worse?”

Shaking her head, she smiled at him instead. “Thank you,” Marinette told Adrien, and she meant it. “You’re the best.”

He returned the smile, green eyes crinkling. Back in lycée, her heart would’ve turned to mush if he smiled at her in such a way. Now, five years later, Marinette was no closer to stopping the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn’t her fault he had such a lovely smile.

Adrien was the first to look away, sweeping her empty plate from in front of her in one smooth movement. “I’ll do the dishes,” he offered. “Finish your project, and maybe we can cook dinner together.”

Before Marinette could agree, he leaned down and planted a quick kiss against her cheek in one fluid movement. “Good luck. I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

She stared at him for a couple seconds longer as he headed towards the kitchen. She didn’t deserve Adrien. Amazing, kindhearted, hardworking, considerate Adrien who was everything anybody could ever ask for.

“Marinette?” he stuck his head out. “I love you a latte.”

She groaned. Of course he had to pun.

"I also love you a latte," she replied reluctantly.

(All the embarrassment was worth the grin that spread across his face.)

Notes: This is part 3 of my lovesquare drabbles, although they’re all loosely interconnected and each work as a standalone. If you’re interested, here’s part one, and here’s part two!

Here’s my fic masterlist.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #my writing #mlb fic #stressed marinette LOL whoops

112 notes · View notes

imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

The marriage pact - A little madness

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 8 | Part 9 A little madness | Part 10 >

Disclaimer: some strong language, mention of heavy drinking, bachelorette

Author’s note: Ever sent a drunk text? I did, and girl was it interpreted the wrong way...*woops*

Word count: 1.912

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

I am glad to inform you that my on-going attempts at becoming a published novella writer are finally starting to pay off. I cannot blab just yet, but oh my dear I AM SO EXCITED! Everything is so exciting! Life is exciting!

After years of hardship, toil and pure struggle as I crawled through the thick mud of adult life, I can finally see the well defined sparkle of hope on the horizon. Dramatic much? Maybe a little. But also; perhaps, just maybe, I can make one of my dreams come true. And for the hell of it, maybe even more!

Now you may wonder why I am so particularly enthusiastic today. Is it the London air? The existence of chocolate cake? Or perhaps the knowledge that I can make things happen in my life, if I set my mind to it? I think it might just be all of the aforementioned.

My cake baking nan had a simple saying: “Nothing just happens, until I make it so.”

So, dear reader, here I am, making it so.

I hope you have a most wonderful weekend my fellow dream-catching souls.

Ali

‘Ali!! Over here!’ Maddie waved at me from across the busy lunch room, the Jersey seaside casting a warm, salty morning glow through the high paned windows. I waved back at her and weaved my way through the room until I could sink down on one of the chairs with a relieved sigh, my face turning to receive her enthused greeting kisses.

‘Hi Mads.’ I grinned at her teethy smile. ‘You are.. glowing!’ She pointed out, her pearly whites so very straight and shiny that she could probably star in one of those toothpaste commercials.

‘Oh, it’s probably because I went for a run this morning.’ I brushed my hand over my cheek, to check if I was feeling hot - nope.

’Naa...’ She shook her head. ‘It’s definitely not that.’ She reached for her cup of tea as a waiter appeared at our table, my order quick and simple: tea, no milk, no sugar.

Turning back towards Maddie I was welcomed with a knowing raised eyebrow. I sighed. ‘Fine..yes..I’m kind of dating Henry.’ ‘I KNEW IT! Ha! YES for all that is holy!’ She exclaimed, making some people turn around in their chairs, curious glances directed our way as they felt the sudden burst of energy coming from the rather chic looking middle class lady that was Maddie Smith.

‘Madss…’ I warned from between clenched teeth.

‘Haha. Oh sorry. I’m just happy, truly. Besides..I am SO winning this bet.’ She wiggled her eyebrows as mine furrowed with worry. ‘..Bet?’ I gulped.

‘Oh, no worries. I didn’t share my thoughts with our friends yet. Just Frank. And you know me and Frank..’ She shrugged, laughing heartily. ‘Yea..’ I murmured, looking up again as my cup of tea was placed before me. ‘Thank you, sir.’ I smiled at the waiter, then turned back to Maddie, studying her with a curious gaze.

‘So..what’s the bet about?’

‘Oh I can’t say that!’

‘Ugh..Mads! You are the worst. Anyways, we’ll see where it goes. You know how it went the other times, so..’ I shrugged, wishing to not get her hopes up.

I, for one, didn’t want to get my hopes up. This was all just too good to be true, right? An old lover returns to his home town and sweeps me right of my feet. It was too perfect. There had to be a catch. I mean, this was pure madness.

—

‘Yihaaa!!’ Stella walked in with another tray of fluorescent shots, my intoxicated girlfriends either exclaiming full-lunged odes-to-joy or swallowing back a silent protest. It was Loïs’ wedding in a week��s time and as the tradition went, there was to be had a bachelorette.

Fully emerged in litres of strong liquor, dancing sweat and penis-related jokes, the night was running late and we had ended up in a sleazy shots bar, the theme most probably being radioactive drinks, as every new glass seemed to carry an even more chemical looking liquid than the previous one.

Bright pinks, blues and yellows were tipped back in our burning throats, relieved female sighs wavering through the noisy air as loud dance music bounced with a fat bass through the small bar.

‘Ooh oooh Ali Ali. Don’t look, not yet. Behind you, 11 o-clock. Hot HOT guy.’ Ginny nodded excitedly, her eyes wide as she looked over my shoulder. ‘Gin, girl. I’m not really..’ I was already starting to protest, but without further ado Ginny twirled me around by my shoulders, a tall blond man approaching me.

‘Hello angel. Havin’ a good time?’ He bit the lip of his bearded chin and I quite instantly felt appalled by him. Not that he was hideous to look at, or that he smelled bad. He was rather sexually attractive actually..and well..clearly into me.

In this case, I think it was just me. I simply wasn’t in the mood for this.

I swallowed back the remains of the bitter liquor in my throat and smiled at him, not wishing to seem rude. ‘Sure.’

He raised an eyebrow and eyed the rest of the girls, the whole group now quick to step back and form a new circle, excluding me. ‘Looks like I have you all to myself.’ He grinned wolfishly.

Then I felt Maddie’s hand on my shoulder, her sassy tilt of the head catching the attention of the handsome blond stranger. ‘Sorry mate. Looks like she’s taken.’ She said simply, and with a tug on my arm I was dragged back into the group, leaving a confused blond hottie behind. I sighed a quiet thanks to Maddie, but received a firing squad of confused and disdained looks from the other women.

‘Wait..MADS! Come on, you can’t just..-’ One exclaimed.

I quickly interfered. ‘No no! Please. Eh..I AM dating someone actually.’

‘YOU ARE?! ALI?! Why didn’t you say so? You’re like the whole reason we are..’ Stella pointed at the neon lit bar behind her. ‘..here.’

‘Really now?’ I raised an eyebrow, then started to giggle, the alcohol buzzing happily through my hot veins, my usually well contained happy personality bursting out at the seams. I had forgotten for the slightest moment that I really was the last “single” woman left in this group, and as Stella gave me a most exasperated look it became clear that nobody - literally nobody - in the group wanted to be here.

They had thought it would help..me. Me!

‘Who is it? Do we know him? Do we? Tell US!’ Ginny squealed, stepping closer, not wishing to miss a single word escaping my lips.

‘I ..eh…’ I glanced at Maddie and she shrugged, her mouth sipping on yet another alcohol beverage - oh dear we were going to be so hungover tomorrow.

‘It’s Henry.’ I gulped.

‘WHAAAATTTTT?! REallyy?! Oh my word! OH MY!’ - ‘GIRLLLLL YES! Oh that is just..’ The whole group erupted in loud squeals, the excitement further fuelled as yet another round of drinks was delivered to the squad of 30-something-moms-on-a-cheeky-night-out.

Except for me of course. I wasn’t a mom. The odd ball.

‘Ohh..’ Loïs, the bride-to-be, pulled me in for a tight hug, her well coiffed chestnut brown hair smelling of fresh shampoo, the scent mixing with the heavy drop of hard liquor coasting through the air as new shots were being downed.

‘Bring him.’ She said, keeping me in the lock of her arms until finally she leaned back a bit. ‘I mean it, Ali. You gotta bring him to the wedding.’ Her finger brushed a lock of my hair behind my ear - she was so very motherly, even when drunk.

I bit my lip, my alcohol hazed mind not keeping up with the turn of events. It was then that I noticed my phone in Maddie’s hand, the device easily recognisable by its bright blue casing.

‘Anndddd sent!’ She exclaimed, returning my phone to me, my mouth falling down in a quiet gasp. Did she just..did she..? I opened my Whatsapp and saw she had sent Henry a message, my blurry eyes no longer managing to fully focus on the words on the brightly lit screen.

Oh..oh..crap.

—

* Thuthumb..thuthumb *

In the history of headaches, this one was certainly about to set a whole new standard. It was..bad.

With a soft groan I rolled over in my queen sized bed, looking at the alarm clock. 10.30 AM - okay, it could be worse. I grumbled a little as I reached for the glass of water on my night stand, then, after a few large gulps of the cool drink, picked up my phone.

> 15 Unread messages.

Mmmkkkey...

Frowning slightly I pushed myself up against the headboard, blinking the last remains of drunken sleep from my eyes as I scrolled through the flurry of words. I had nearly forgotten about the fact that Maddie had confiscated my phone to send Henry a message. And, well, apparently it had not been just any message.

Me: “Hey sexy beast. How about you, me, and a wedding? Keep the 16th free.” Followed by a wild mix of totally inappropriate emoticons.

I felt my heart rate speed up as I started to read Henry’s messages.

Henry bear: “Hey you. Having a fun night I presume?” - “Ali?” - “Just for inquiry’s sake..is this OUR wedding?” - “Alright I think you’re probably not reading this.” - …

* Knock knock *

Quickly I put down my phone, expecting to see my mom’s head pop around the door of my room. But it wasn’t.

Seeing who it was, made me wish I could just disappear and let myself be swallowed by my pillows. But I couldn’t. And here he was. Henry’s head poking around the corner of my door, his lips curling in an amused smile.

‘Hello party girl.’ He smirked, stepping inside and apparently carrying a tray with some fresh juice, tea and a bowl of fruit with him. I felt my heart stumble, tumble and roll at the sight of this bear of a man carefully carrying my mom’s dainty tray in his hands, his well rounded bum pushing the door closed behind him.

I sighed, laying there like a sickly patient in a mountain of propped up pillows. ‘Morning.’ I grumbled.

His smile grew as he placed the tray on my little writing desk, then sat down next to my hip on the edge of the mattress. ‘Had fun?’ - ‘Mmm..a little too much I’m afraid.’ I sat up a little more, my head immediately starting to protest with loud, dizzying thumps. I groaned. ‘I’m sorry by the way about the text message, I eh…’ I frowned, looking at my phone as it lay there half-hidden between the soft blankets.

I didn’t even read all his messages.

Henry tweaked up an eyebrow and moved up a hand to brush some of my bed hair out of my face, his finger tips riding over my smooth skin with utmost care and gentleness. ‘Mhm.’ He simply nodded, eyebrow still raised in silent question.

‘We had a bachelorette yesterday, you knew that. But eh.. Loïs, the bride caught air of you and I eh..dating.’ Our eyes met and his blues started to shimmer with happiness, making my heart flutter and fly again. ‘So eh..yea..she..invited you, too? I guess? And then Maddie took my phone and sent that message.’

Henry let out a hearty chuckle. ‘Yea right.’ He winked, then smoothed his face back into a warm smile. ‘I won’t judge you for some cute drunk texting, baby.’ He said.

’Noo..Hen. Really. It was Mads.’

‘Mhm.’ He hummed again, not believing a word of it, his face leaning closer to brush his lips against mine. ‘Ah. Whisky morning breath, my favourite.’ He chuckled.

I blushed fiercely, wishing to roll away from him and hide, but, of course I was too slow and my small frame was instantly caught in the cage of Henry’s large arms. ‘No getting away from me now, bridey.’ He whispered huskily, his mouth eager to lay its claim on me.

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oh-styles · 5 years

Text

Something About a Loss: Part I

Disclaimer: Before we jump in, I want to disclose that this chapter talks heavily about miscarriage, and depicts violence and bouts of depression. If it is something you aren’t comfortable with, I advise you to skip this one.

In addition, I found this chapter extremely hard to find a finishing point on. I feel it is not as good as my other works, simply because it’s sad as fuck. I don’t write sad stuff well, and I know this now. Nevertheless, I did it.

I also advise that if you are sad after finishing this, you stream Lights Up.

May 18, 2019 Los Angeles, CA

You were ill, and infallibly ill, at that. Since the days leading up to this very moment, the one where you are splayed over the king size mattress with a thin sheet covering half of your exposed body – you can’t decide if you’re hot or cold – you swear up and down you have purged at least half of your body weight. Harry, who was as well as a whistle, claimed you just had a stomach bug, but felt confident enough to remain by your side despite the risk of germs.

“I can pop to the shops real quick, get you some ginger ale?... What sounds good, pet?”

Death. Death sounds good.

You don’t want to risk moving – or risk any movement, really – for the sole sake of your sensitive stomach that is one head acknowledgement away from projectile vomiting like you were in a poorly casted remake of The Exorcist. You can sense Harry standing beside you, and after a beat with no response, he reaches his hand out and holds it front of your mouth to confirm you are still indeed breathing.

“You still with me, sweets?” You wiggle your toe rapidly. “Is that a yes…?” Wiggle. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit, okay? You want anything else? Crackers?” He’s met with silence, but he watches you from the doorway – giving a subtle glance to your big toe – and nods to himself. “Is it okay if I take y’car? Mine’s low on petrol and I don’t feel like—”

“Keys in purse,” you mumble into your pillow, pulling a hand free from the sheets and pointing somewhere towards the corner of the room.

“Right,” he spots the Gucci bag hanging on the closet door. “I won’t be long.”

But be long, he did, but it wasn’t his fault, really. He had to remind himself he couldn’t get sidetracked, that he had a sick girlfriend back home waiting for him, so he needed to promptly check off his mental grocery list and be out the door before you could say Harry Styles. But, it’s right as he’s awkwardly carrying three Canada Dry’s, and beginning to regret passing on grabbing a basket, that he hears it.

“Harry Styles!”

It was a few photos and a video of a cool hat trick later that he finally found himself tucked away safely back in your car.

“Alright, sicky, I’m home.” He nudges the bedroom door open with a light kick and sets the bag of drinks down on the end of the bed. Where he left you, just a mere thirty minutes before, is now empty, and he spots where you kicked off the sheets in a clear haste; it was no telling where you are now. He can hear the harsh guttural retching from the bathroom door, and with a peek inside, there you were, lay stark naked on the opaque tiles. “Blood hell, pet.”

“I think I’ve fallen ill,” you mutter against the toilet seat. That was a major understatement if he’s ever heard one. This was the second day you’ve been stumbling into the bathroom at all hours of the day, seemingly fine just moments before. It was hard telling how much longer this could last, but Harry already decided by tomorrow he was willing to take you to the doctor if no symptoms have let up.

You were not having it; you had fully accepted death if it meant avoiding any doctors office--needles, blood tests, what have you. It was just a stomach bug, one that would pass, and you’d rather not waste his time and money on something that can be treated with water, rest and back rubs.

Though, the following morning, after you were finished purging your breakfast into the toilet, you spotted Harry in the doorway of the bathroom with your shoes in hand, and a sullen, sunken face.

“Alright, let’s go, pet.”

You were 24-years-old, an adult woman, who at the mention of anything medical, instantly recoils into a ball on the floor. No, sir. There was no way you were going. Water, rest, and backrubs--that’s all you needed, thank you. But, unfortunately for you, your boyfriend stood firmly in the doorway, and already prepared himself for such a reaction.

“There could be something seriously wrong with you, pet. Read something about a parasite--”

“A fucking parasite.”

“It’s just a thought--”

“Something could be growing inside me?”

There was more on his mind than just a fucking parasite, but he couldn’t find the words to say them, not with you hyperventilating on the bathroom for in fear of having to see a doctor. In truth, it was the first thing that came up when he searched your symptoms, and when he called the doctor that morning, they too agreed you come in for tests.

If he were to say the p-word, your panicking might only intensify. It’s not that you didn’t want kids, but it wasn’t something that was exactly on the table for discussion as of late. Was it something you could see yourself doing in the future? Of course, but that was in the future, maybe a couple years from now. You still relied on your boyfriend to remind you to take your vitamins; there was no way you were ready for a baby.

As for Harry, ever since the first morning you chucked yourself off the bed and raced to the bathroom, he knew; it was this gut feeling most would describe as an intuition, and with every passing day, it would only grow in size. If it wasn’t the morning sickness, it was you sleeping your days away, and complaining about the tenderness of your breasts.

You just thought your period was coming.

“Or...you could be pregnant.”

He had his assistant drop off a few tests that morning while you were still asleep, and maybe it was a father's instinct, but he knew the outcome before you even had to glance down at the test. He made a deal with you, if the tests came back negative, they would see a doctor. If they were positive, he’d give the two of you a day to let the shock settle.

He was relatively surprised by how resilient you were when he handed over the tests. There were three boxes, six in total. Throughout the day you would take one, which was easy because your urgency to pee had sparked over the last few days, and whatever response it gave you, you would make a note of it.

By the third pregnant, you stopped taking them.

Harry was making lunch, and the only thing you felt you could stomach was cooked spaghetti, minus the sauce. You sauntered down the stairs, the tests concealed in a ziplock bag, and tossed them up onto the kitchen counter.

“I want eggs instead.”

“Oh, yeah?” He didn’t bother to glance back at you. “Scrambled? Poached?”

“Fertilized.”

He was spreading mayonnaise onto a piece of bread, and you think he might’ve not heard you, but it was once he twisted the lid back on, setting the knife on the edge of the sink, that he turned around, that you realize he’d been crying.

“So,” he sniffs, a smile spreading wide. “We’re having a baby?”

It’s then that you pull out your phone, and do a quick Spotify search, fast forward the song until you’re reached the chorus, before you hit play on Kiwi.

* June 10, 2019 Los Angeles, CA

“Think we can snatch up some Cinnabon today, muscles? I got a hankering for some cinnamon on buns.”

At first glance, you don’t look any different; not from the day before, anyway. To any new pair of eyes, you’re just an ordinary woman who insists on stopping to pet every dog that passes by, and who trips over her shoelace she refuses to tie. No stranger would be vaguely aware of the hidden secret laid burrowed deep inside the swell of her stomach.

“Is it you that wants it, or baby bean?”

You snicker, but you damn well knew the answer. The little baby bean laid protectively inside of you just entered its ninth week of development, and you were proud to say it was the size of an almond. You spent the greater portion of the morning studying over all the changes the little one would be making, and the sexual organs were one of them.

“Okay, get this. It says that the gonads have become either testes or ovaries. We actually have a boy or girl—or whatever it wants to be, that’s their choice, but testes and ovaries, babe!”

You knew it would still be some time before you found out the gender, but it didn’t stop either one of you starting a list of names written in the Notes section in your phone.

“I really like Lily…or Meadow,” you inquire from the kitchen, as you dip a carrot into a tub of ranch. “Maybe even Moonbeam?”

“Moonbeam. Moonbeam Styles.”

“Could be a middle name, too. Meadow Moonbeam.”

“Babe, our child wasn’t conceived at Woodstock.”

No, but the thought crossed your mind frequently as to when your egg had openly welcomed your boyfriend’s sperm, and after some math and a doctor’s visit, you were left with a definitive time: late march, or March 29, to be exact.

“I think you knocked me up after the Rock ‘n’ Roll thing.”

“The Rock ‘n’ Roll thing,” Harry rolls his eyes.

“I remember—I was on my period the week before, and I didn’t want you anywhere near me, and I remember once we were in New York it was finally over, and after the Stevie Nicks thing—” You could see him roll his eyes once more. “—we went back to the hotel and we fucked like…all night, practically.”

“Okay, but you know that doesn’t mean it was that night.”

“Listen, okay. Because of the time change, I forgot to take my pill that day, so I doubled the next day, but because I missed—”

“How do you remember this stuff?”

“Just let me finish, will you!”

In the end, despite your distinguishing facts, the boy that laid sprawled out on the sofa in nothing but his underwear, still was doubtful whether to believe your undeniable facts. Yes, you were right that the two of you did get down and dirty that night, but you also got down and dirty for likely many nights after that, but he’s aware of how stubborn you are, and let you have this one thing.

“I can’t believe it… I bet it was because you were around Stevie Nicks. She put a spell on your sperm, I bet.”

June 18, 2019 Wembley Arena, London, UK

“Are you going to ask Stevie Nicks if she put a spell on your sperm?”

“Pet, I will leave you in the car.”

“No, no, I’ll be good, I promise!”

“And don’t…give anything away.”

You were one who did well with keeping secrets, but this secret was nestled away inside of your body, and it was only a matter of time before that secret was impractical to hide. You and Harry had decided that you would tell family and friends by the twelfth week, because there was something he read about most miscarriages happening in the first trimester – for whatever reason – and it was just better to wait until that risk was lower.

“It’s literally a week away—a week. A week, Harry.”

“6 days, actually.” He pulls his hoodie up and over his head, tousling his hair in the process. “Can wait 6 days, yeah?”

“You’re asking the impossible of me!”

“I’m asking you to not tell my mother I knocked you up.”

Knocked up. This wasn’t some one-night stand bullshit—though, you might recall him shoving your face into the bedsheets and ramming himself into you dripping cunt quicker than you could say, “Yes, baby, right there!” You like to imagine the conception of your child was a moment filled with love and passion, but you can’t lie to yourself and ignore the fact he spit in your mouth, and after he came in you, making you stand and let the cum drip down your thighs while he got off to it on the bed.

No, your child was created by love, dammit!

“Don’t tell Anne we made love and are having a baby, got it!”

Even he knows ‘making love’ wasn’t what you would call it, and the long pause as the two of you walked into the venue was more than proof of that.

Despite being given this absurd task of not letting any cats out of any bags, you did manage to keep your mouth closed upon the arrival of Anne Twist. She was quick to swoop you in her arms, planting a kiss on your cheek, and even rubbing a thumb over your cheek, saying something about your clear complexion.

“Your skin is looking beautiful, darling. Are you using something new?”

Pregnancy hormones. “Vitamins.”

“Oh, what kind?”

Pre-natal. “Hair, skin and nails.”

“Well, you are looking very healthy.” She really was none the wiser, well, up until moments later when you turned down a glass of wine backstage.

“I, uh, was really hung over this morning. Was throwing up all night. Pretty gross stuff.” You weren’t entirely fibbing. You and your unborn child have been playing a cat-and-mouse game of whether it will agree with what you eat or not. Last night, turns out, it did not particularly care much for the chicken and rice Harry had cooked up. “Just sticking with water tonight.”

Two days later, you and Harry attended the wedding of Amy and Mike, which was just another imminent disaster just scheduled to happen. It was one thing biting your tongue for one person, but that evening, you would have his entire family on your tail, and you aren’t completely confident on how many lies you can pull out of your ass in one evening.

But, it was that morning, after waking up in a haste and purging every last bit of your late dinner – you sometimes get hungry around 2 am – that you realize, staring back at you in the mirror, is the well-defined beginnings of a bump. Before, it only looked like you had spent your afternoon at an all-you-can-eat buffet, but now, you were pregnant. There was no way José you could fool anyone into believing you were just simply bloated from a big lunch.

“I think if the morning sickness gets any worse, we should try those pills the doctor was telling you about.” You hear Harry rustling around in the bedroom, seemingly on the hunt for the little slip of paper with the prescription. “D’ya want some toast, love?”

You heard a light tap on the other side of the door, and it was once he peeked his head in, that he spotted you, standing bare-chested in front of the mirror, and the obvious little convex mass that he swears up and down was not there a minute ago.

“We have to tell them.”

“Babe—”

“Your mom is already onto me, and I’m only going to get bigger.”

“You can’t announce pregnancies at weddings—that’s a law, or summit, yeah?”

“Well, this wouldn’t be a problem now if we had just told them earlier.”

“All of the books say it’s best to wait—”

“Well, fuck waiting—I’m fucking massive now!”

You ended up arriving late to the wedding, and considerably disorderly, after having to redo your makeup in the venue bathroom because you started crying on your way there because you saw a bird. No, that’s it. Just a bird, one that you thought looked very beautiful. You knew there was no way you could finish the night without crying at least five more times.

Your excuse for that: “Oh, probably going to start my period soon!” They’d get the truth soon enough.

June 28, 2019 New York, New York

“You’re actually going to wear that shirt to dinner,” you affirm, giving your hand a little wave in the air to help dry your nails. Harry gives a brief glance down at his top, stretching it at the bottom to admire it fully. “There isn’t anything else you could wear?”

“What’s wrong with m’shirt?”

“It says Safe Sex…like, in big letters—can’t miss ‘em.” It’s then, with a little more observation, you notice the two figures, and how they each appear to be holding— “No, for fucks sake, Harry. You aren’t wearing that outside of this hotel room.”

“It’s a nice shirt.”

“They are whacking each other off!”

“It’s a Keith Haring, darling. Get with the times.”

In the end, after much persuasion – and a threatening promise of spilling red wine all over his vintage top – he wore the shirt to dinner. A nice restaurant, mind you. One where the appetizer costs as much as a normal entrée at Applebee’s, and to fork the bill at the end of the night, you’d have to ask politely if they accept payment plans.

“Babe, stop looking at the cocktail menu.”

“I’m just looking.”

“You’re going to upset yourself because you can’t have any of it.”

“Babe, they put an actual egg white in a White Lady… Fucking rich people, let me tell you what…” And leave it to the rich guy sat in front of you to wear a shirt promoting masturbation to a 5-star restaurant.

“Maybe I can get the little Styles a matching one, so they can match with their daddy.” You saw the corner of his mouth twitch at the word; he still was getting used to the idea of being a father in the coming months.

“You’d actually be fine with your newborn child wearing a onesie that says Safe Sex?”

And after a moment’s thought, he didn’t bring the topic up again.

In the month since you found out about the pregnancy, there were many lifestyle changes you inevitably would have to change. For one, you weren’t allowed to stand in front of the microwave anymore, nor could you lay on your stomach, because you might ‘squish’ the baby. You tried to explain to your boyfriend that your child was practically the size of an almond, and laying on your stomach would do it no possible harm, but he wasn’t having any of it.

As if giving up alcohol was bad enough, you were forced to abandon your love for seafood. There was a list of things you could eat in moderation, but you weren’t exactly sure how to eat lobster in moderation.

You also spent an hour crying when you were told you couldn’t eat cookie dough do to the raw eggs.

“Love, you shouldn’t be eating it anyway!”

“It’s fucking good, Harry! Like you would know. The only sweet shit you put near your mouth is my cunt.”

Harry realized very early on that pregnancy, for you, was just a rollercoaster of hormones, and he better strap in for the ride. After he had told you that you had to give up coffee and sushi, you locked yourself in the bathroom while you cried in the bathtub.

“You hate me!”

“I don’t hate you! That stuff just isn’t good for the baby.”

“If it’s my baby, it’ll want it!”

You stayed locked in the bathroom for an hour, and only came out because you forgot there was a new episode of This Is Us. Harry then spent the next thirty minutes online trying to track down a eggless cookie dough recipe he could make, that way you could stop giving him the stink eye from across the room.

He was lucky you didn’t make him sleep on the couch that night.

* June 29, 2019 New York, New York

Tonight was your last night in New York, and you would then spend a week in London before heading out to Canada to enjoy a nice, serene vacation with the Gerber’s. Harry called your little holiday in Muskoka a pre-babymoon, but all you wanted was a vacation. You knew it would be later in the year when his schedule began to pick up, and all of the plans they have been deriving for months would finally be set in motion, so it was not set in stone as to when an actual babymoon could fit in that timeline or not.

“We’ll make something work, love.” Harry bumps his hip out and taps your side. “You’re not due until December; I know we can get away for a week.”

December 20th, to be exact. Harry had his fingers crossed for a Christmas baby, but the last thing you wanted was to spend the holidays overdue, trying to push a small human out of your vagina. If you could have it your way, Christmas would be spent cuddled on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate, your baby girl – or boy – fast asleep in its My First Christmas onesie, snoozing soundly on your chest. Harry would be off in the corner, taking aesthetic photos of you by the Christmas tree, and maybe he would find himself cuddled into your side for a little family nap.

But that was still six months away.

Harry was off doing a photoshoot for Rolling Stone, so you spent your afternoon back at the hotel with his debit card, buying every stretch mark cream that promised fast results, and ramen from GrubHub. You were also mildly surprised when your child decided it liked your lunch choice and let you digest it properly.

“So, we know you like ramen… I’ll make a note of that.” You smile, giving gentle rubs to your little bump. “I think next we should try some… Oh, dumplings sound good. Think you want some dumplings, little bean?”

And once again, you right back on GrubHub.

“Daddy will be back soon, and then we’ll go back on a plane and be home… Nana said she got you some stuff, so we’ll have to check that out, huh?”

You like to imagine that they’re bundled inside you, nodding along to everything you say. “Well, yes, I would like to check out what Nana got me!” Though, only the size of a lemon, your little, growing human has developed vocal cords, teeth, and even fingerprints.

So far, the pregnancy has been pretty smooth sailing for you. You feel like you spent most of the first trimester asleep or puking, but now you’re finding yourself up and moving, doing the dishes and laundry, vacuuming, and trying to find some time to spend in the bedroom.

The idea of sex while you had a growing fetus taking up your insides, for a lack of better words, freaked the fuck out of you both. Would it hurt? Would it damage anything? Every article you read online sufficed your thoughts, but you wouldn’t let Harry’s penis near you until your OB gave you the green light, and once that green light was lit, the two of you didn’t waste a moment.

You also didn’t really imagine the first time having sex since you two found out you were expecting would result in him calling his mom immediately after. In his defense, you trust Anne, and she’s been through this twice, so she must have all the answers. But, I think the last thing anyone would want is having their boyfriend call their mother after they’ve finished fucking you, to ask if it’s normal for their girlfriend to bleed a little.

“Yes, Harry… a little is normal…”

You texted her a few minutes later to apologize.

“I can’t believe you called your mom.”

“I panicked!”

“I don’t like it when she knows we’ve had sex.”

“Well…you are pregnant…with my child… Had to have m’cock in ya for that to happen.”

Harry didn’t waste any time getting back to the hotel after his shoot, and just like every morning right as he wakes up, he made a beeline to your bump and greeted it with a little kiss. “Hello, little bean. Did ya keep y’mum company today?” And of course, a kiss for you. “Are you all packed? Probably going to leave here in a few—flight leaves in two hours.”

“Yep, and—” You watch as he strolls around the room, picking up his phone charger and tosses it in his bag. His eyes, they were different. They were darker. They— “Eyeliner? They really put you in eyeliner?”

“Oh, yeah.” He grins, throwing on his jacket. “I wanted to get back here, so I didn’t bother taking it off.”

“You look like you belong in a pop punk band that writes songs about how much they hate their hometown but refuse to leave.”

Thirty minutes later, and the three of you were out the door. His driver was parked outside, and felt informed to give a heads up that a group of girls were beginning to form outside the building. This wasn’t your first time, nor would it be your last. At this point, all you could do was shrug your shoulders and carry on. All the times before, they never pay much attention to you, nor have they ever bothered to do so.

You noticed how Harry grew silent on the elevator, and even made the comment, “Stay close to me. Don’t stop for anyone.” You felt that was the baby talking, because the last thing he could imagine happening was lingering outside too long and getting jostled.

Outside the doors, he spotted the driver waiting outside the car door, and he reached his hand back to find yours. “Just stay close. We’ll be quick.”

You could hear the screaming through the glass doors, and once you were outside it was amplified. Girls were shoving, and reaching their arms out as far as they could, trying their best to get that small, brief touch. You kept your hand bound tight with his, your eyes fixated on the ground, and you knew you were only a few feet away from the car, until you felt a sudden, deafening whack across your back, one that sent you flying forward into Harry’s jacket.

Before you could find your footing, you felt a pair of hands tangle and twist itself in your hair, and you were violently thrown back, colliding with a hard blow on the pavement.

You could hear the screaming – much different than from before – and most certainly not from the same person. When you opened your eyes, all you could see were a pair of shoes, but they became closer and closer until you felt the kick strike your stomach, and again to your jaw.

“Get the fuck off of her!”

“Go fucking die, cunt!” Spat.

You didn’t realize you had been shielding your face until you felt a pair of hands reach out, taking your in theirs. You saw a brief glimpse of a cross tattoo, and were swiftly lifted up and settled in the backseat of the car.

Two hours ago, it had a heartbeat. It had told you how much it enjoyed the ramen and dumplings, and how excited it was to hear about the presents its Nana had gotten them. It was only the size of a lemon and had developed teeth and vocal cords and fingerprints. It was close to 3 inches long, and not even a full pound in weight, and now it’s all gone.

There wasn’t going to be a Christmas birthday. You weren’t going to sit on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate, with your newborn asleep on your chest. There wasn’t going to be photos taken by your boyfriend, ones he would show off to every one of his friends.

All the names would go unused. Meadow Moonbeam, Lily Magnolia, Sunshine Rainbow were all ceased to exist now. There would be no family now, just the two of you.

You listen to the nurse talk, and you watch Harry sit beside you, but you don’t say a word. You stare at the ceiling tiles and count 94, and once you’ve finished you notice she’s still talking, so you recount again, but this time you get 95. Maybe the room is just getting bigger, or you’re just getting smaller.

Harry adjusts himself in his seat and squeezes your hand. When you peak a glimpse over, you notice his eyeliner is now smeared, mostly having been rubbed off, and you can confirm that by the black mark on his hand. He says something to you, and you stare at his lips as he repeats it, but all the worlds fly over your head like the wind.

“Pet,” he says again, and this time you acknowledge him. “We can go. You don’t have to say here.”

You’ve already spoken to the police, given your statement. There wasn’t much of a statement to give, anyway. You didn’t see the person; hell, you weren’t even sure if there was just one. They could have had three heads; you really didn’t know. All you remember is the voice.

“Go fucking die, cunt!”

It wasn’t me who died.

There weren’t much more the nurses could do, at least not now, anyway. The nurse – you think her name was Nancy – said there was a chance you could need a D&C, and she went over the details, but you blocked her out. Harry even excused himself out of the room.

Before she left, she dropped a sonogram photo down on the side of the bed, the last picture you’d ever get of your child.

It’s been two hours, and you’ve not said a word. You reach down to feel your bump, to confirm to yourself it is still there, to make sure it wasn’t taken away from you while you weren’t looking. There wasn’t a heartbeat, but you bump remained untouched.

“Sweetheart, we can go. We don’t have to stay.”

You don’t even realize he’s returned, but he’s standing by the end of your bed, and the moment you notice his red nose – the light sniffle gave it away – you immediately reach out to grab the ultrasound photo, tucking it away at your side.

He keeps saying that, but once you leave, it’s really over. Those few months you had spent lying to your friends and family, keeping your little bump a secret, was all for nothing. It was all done. Finished. There was nothing to come tomorrow. No new development news next week. No waking up to Harry draped over your stomach, leaving a trail of drool on your shirt. No kisses, no change, no baby. It was all back to the beginning now, before you met your baby bean.

But life was different back then, because you hadn’t known what special love it gave you, and now that love has been taken away, and you’re just supposed to find your footing again and carry on like nothing happened. It’s only been two hours, but you don’t believe that’s possible.

You stay at the hospital for an hour more, until it’s been confirmed that you and Harry have another flight, this time at a different airport. Instead of JFK, you would be driving to Queens to leave out of LaGuardia.

“Hun,” you hear him walk around to the other side of the bed, reaching down to grab your shoes. “I love you.”

You can’t turn around, not with the pain still inching all across your abdomen, but you feel the weight shift on the mattress, and all of a sudden, a pair of arms wrap around your chest, pushing you back against his chest. It’s silent for just a moment, until a retching sob expels from the back of his throat, and he lays his head on your shoulder, and all you could feel where his tears drenching your skin.

His hand falls and lands on your bump – still there - and it rests there for a while, softly rubbing little circles back and forth, his way of giving his baby bean one last goodbye. You feel him kiss the inside of your neck, and with another sniff, he steps away, and helps you into your shoes.

The two of you leave out of a back entrance where your vehicle is waiting, and in silence, you sit unmoving. You check once again to make sure your bump hasn’t disappeared.

It’s all you have left.

At LaGuardia, you’re escorted in by security, through another back entrance, and only once does Harry stop to take a couple photos. You stand silently, watching the interaction, and you’re astounded at how calm his demeanor is, where just forty-five minutes ago, he was at the hospital sobbing into your neck. You don’t understand how he could pose and smile – if you can call that a smile – despite having been given the news just hours before that his unborn child is dead.

It sounds vulgar; you hate the word dead, but that’s the reality of it now. It’s not living anymore, and maybe if you say it enough, you’ll stop feeling.

Anything to make the pain stop.

By now, the news has spread about the attack, and it’s all every update account and fan page can talk about. They talk about how they’re grateful you’re okay, how you’re up and walking and seemingly unscathed. As Harry walks back at you, you think you see them take another photo – a quick one, probably blurry – and you realize your hand is still resting on your bump.

Doesn’t matter anyway.

“C’mon, pet. Let’s get home.”

#saaf series #harry styles imagine #miscarriage tw #miscarriage mention #death mention #death tw #one direction imagine #harry styles

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