#her now husband was like bent over crying it was so sweet

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a joke. they were supposed to be in steve’s backyard with all their friends and family in shitty lawn chairs, holding cans of budweiser and jamming to whatever song eddie was in the mood for that day blasting through the speakers. steve was supposed to be in front of them all in a tuxedo t-shirt and powder blue dress pants, flowers in his hair that had been teased to high heaven and dark black sunglasses to keep out the bright sun. that’s how they had planned it all those years ago when they’d been high and drunk and young and in love.

but somehow instead, the yard is full of flowers and benches that hopper and wayne put together with spare wood for everyone to sit on and there’s an archway at the end of the aisle and soft acoustic songs spilling gently out of the speakers. steve’s still at the front, that was always supposed to happen, but this time he’s wearing an actual tux, light cream with a boutonnière and everything, and his hair is pushed back just so. there’s no flowers in his hair and no sunglasses but it’s cloudy enough of a day where he doesn’t really need them anyway.

they weren't even supposed to do this. there wasn't supposed to be a grand entrance and a walk down the aisle, no flower girls or ring bearers or anything remotely traditional. but what started off as, "well, i wouldn't mind walking down the aisle," and "i think exchanging rings would be cool," and "who cares if it isn't legal, i'm going to marry you anyway damnit," turned into this beautiful day of friends and family and love.

robin’s standing beside him in a tux of her own, pinstripe grey donning a pocket boutonnière that matches nancy’s bouquet, with a few notecards in her hands. and speaking of nancy, she’s heading down the aisle in a flowing dress, and when her eyes catch robin’s, she crinkles her nose before blowing her a kiss. she stands opposite of steve as eddie's not-quite-bridesmaid and grips her bouquet tightly, her eyes never leaving robin's.

and then there's dustin. he's in a tux that matches steve's and he has his curls pushed back with probably too much gel and a tie that suzie got him for their 3rd anniversary. the best thing he's sporting, though, is the smile on his face and the ring box in his hand and the joy in his eyes as he looks out at the crowd. having him there as best man and smelling the cheap cologne he wears so he seems more grown up calms steve's ever beating heart enough to where he doesn't think he'll throw up from nerves anymore.

all of their loved ones are surrounding them in clothes steve’s never seen before but he couldn’t care at all what they’re wearing because they’re all smiling wide and bright at him. he catches himself rocking back and forth on his feet so he shakes out his hands and holds them behind his back to distract himself. his stomach is rolling with waves or butterflies and when he catches joyce's eye in the front row, she mimes taking in a deep breath which he instantly copies. the soft grin she sends in return tells him that he thinks it could actually work to settle him. mothers have that healing way about them.

he’s never been good with weddings, always fidgeting in a too tight suit his mom picked out, but he never thought he’d be this antsy at his own.

steve's just about to give up and sprint down the aisle to get eddie so they can run away together and leave nerves and or butterflies behind him, but then the music stops. he sees lucas changing out the tapes quickly, giving a thumbs up to mike who throws one to will who runs back behind the shed to where he knows eddie is waiting and when will pops his head back out to run back to his seat, it hits him.

he's getting married.

steve doesn't have time to think about it anymore than he already has been for the last 8 years because eddie's coming around the corner of the shed.

'here comes the sun' is playing out over the speakers, soft and perfect, and eddie's smiling, wide and beautiful, and steve can't help but mirror it back to him. the clouds overhead seem to hear them, hear the song and hear their hearts beating in time with each other, because as soon as eddie gets to the aisle, bright warm rays of sunlight peak out and make the rhinestones he demanded line the lapels of his own black tux shine like real diamonds.

steve stops breathing. he swears he does, and he knows his family are all feeling the same way. he can hear a few gasps, hears joyce muttering what she thinks is a silent, "oh my god," in hop's ear, and watches how wayne stands up just a bit straighter from his front row seat.

eddie glides down the aisle like the drama king he is, soaking in the looks from everyone they care about and soaking in the sun that seems to come out only for him. it's like the sun knows he's a star, too, and wants to come out to be with one of it's own. eddie's always been sunshine and starlight and a blinding thing to look at and take in. he's the light, steve's the moth, and a few clouds on their wedding day could never change it.

"well, that was insanely good timing," eddie whispers to steve once he reaches him. his grin softens and he brings up a hand to wipe gently at the tear tracks on steve's cheeks. "hi, baby."

and steve can do nothing but choke out a laugh, catching eddie's hand in his own so he press a kiss to his palm. he thinks he can feel eddie's heartbeat against his lips and, even if it's his brain playing tricks on him, he likes the sentiment that it brings. "i love you so fucking much."

it's eddie's turn to get teary-eyed and the sun glints off the tears that fall down his cheek before heading back behind the clouds, dotting quick-to-fade sparkles on his face like a wedding present.

steve kisses him. he can't help it. it's nothing but a fast press of lips, watery smile to watery smile, and everyone is cheering except for robin.

"hey! it's not time for that yet," she says with a pretend scowl, arms pressing to each of their chests to keep them apart. it's enough to leave nancy giggling where she stands behind eddie, her laugh like bells bouncing off of the trees surrounding them. "just give me like ten minutes and we'll have you married and you can kiss all you want then."

steve swears he can hear mike groan at that which cause him to grin which cause eddie to grin back and then they're holding hands like it's the only way to get through the next ten minutes. and it might just be the only way to get through it. knowing them, if they didn't hold on tight, one of them would make a move first and there'd be hands around waists and fingers tangled in hair and robin would hate them forever because she wouldn't get to do her speech.

it's after vows are shared, after rings are on fingers, after kisses are pressed to lips and cheeks and temples and hands and everything else they can quickly reach, that the two of them get some peace. everyone is inside eating snacks and drinking cheap champagne, and it goes unspoken that they're going to take some time for themselves. take some time to bask in their new maybe not-so-legally real but as real as could ever be in their hearts marriage.

they make their way, hand in hand like they've always been meant to do, to a table set up for them. eddie pops a bottle of champagne that they pass back and forth between themselves as they share cheesy smiles and champagne-laced kisses. and it's as they look into each other's eyes, fingers lacing so their rings clink softly against each other, that the sun peaks out to say hello once more.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic january 30 - uneven - 983words - cw: nsfw!, spanking, degradation

aka when a haircut gone wrong turns into bending ur husband over the kitchen counter and ****** his ***** until ******* and he ******** *** ***

“It’s uneven.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It’s uneven, James.”

“You– she’s just sitting improperly, her head bent at an angle,” his fiancée replies, in a there you have it way.

Regulus levels him with a flat look, “You’ve cut our daughter bangs and they’re uneven.”

“The hair kept falling into her eyes! It was bothering her,” James’ tone is defensive.

Regulus stares down at the picture on James’ phone, regarding the line of Harrie’s bangs as they fall crookedly over her small forehead, grin as wide and toothy as always, pigtails equally askew. She’s running around in kindergarten like that right now none the wiser.

When he looks up to raise an eyebrow at James this one snatches up his phone and pockets it with a huff, grumbling under his breath.

Behind them the electric kettle clicks, signaling that the water is boiled, so Regulus turns his back to face the shelves in search of a mug and tea bag.

“As if you would’ve done any better.”

An incredulous scoff rips from the back of Regulus’ throat.

It sounds like James is gnashing his teeth when he growls, “What?”

Regulus casually goes about preparing his tea. “Oh, miles, baby.”

James sounds closer when he speaks next, making Regulus shiver, “You’re a brat.”

“Your ego is too big,” Regulus spits back.

“Yeah, well, something’s gotta match the cock.”

There’s a second of still silence where they’re both not moving, disbelieving over if James just actually said that out loud.

Then Regulus head whips around and he fixes the other with a narrow glare. “Excuse me?”

He can see the moment something flips inside James and he decides, wether that be reasoned or not, to just fucking roll with it. “You heard me.”

Regulus feels his face pull into a sneer, “Yes and I’d actually rather impale my eardrums with a toothpick before it happens again.”

Now it’s James’ turn to scoff before he steps closer, “Yeah, like you didn’t moan about it last weekend on date night.”

James cages Regulus against the counter and all he can do is turn his back to him again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Warmth settles over Regulus’ back as James crowds his space, breath hot over the shell of his ear. “Fuck, Jamie,” he whines in imitation of Regulus, “So big, feels so good, ah- yes, yes! Please, harder, ’m gonna—”

Regulus knuckles are turning white against the counter. He’s not sure he’s still breathing.

James nuzzles Regulus’ curls with his nose, hips grazing the swell of his ass, “Begging for it like a slut.”

Regulus gasps sharply, “Merde– shut up.”

Soft lips come down on his neck, spit slick, and Regulus is trembling.

“I love when you’re good for me like that, Reg,” James murmurs breathily, “Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

He punctuates the questions by pressing his crotch directly into Regulus’ ass, the grey sweatpants doing nothing to hide the thick line of him.

A moan tumbles out of him involuntarily.

James gives a pleased hum before he sucks on that same spot on Regulus’ neck, “That’s it, baby.”

Mindlessly, Regulus pushes back, arousal shooting through him when James groans softly.

“C’mon, love, I know just how sweet you can be for me.”

It’s a wonder Regulus manages to shake his head.

“Yeah, you are,” James insists, “Doesn’t always have to be only once I fuck you stupid on my fat cock.”

Regulus grits his teeth, “You’re impossible.”

James sighs displeased, a mournful little thing that makes Regulus’ head dizzy, “Fine, the hard way then.”

In one swift movement he pulls Regulus back by the hips, yanks down his own black sweats and spanks him right across one ass cheek.

Regulus is helpless to do anything but cry out in pleasure, the sting seeping through the flesh and concentrating between his legs, making his cock twitch where it bobs heavy in the air.

“Try again,” James says, voice dangerously neutral and massaging his throbbing cheek.

Regulus bites down on his tongue, then presses out, “You’d be lucky to be considered average.”

A chuckle and then another swing, sharper than the first and the sound of it reverberating off their kitchen tiles.

Regulus whimpers a strangled noise which turns into a downright pitiful whine when James roughly spits on his exposed hole.

“Oh, you like that, huh, baby?” James taunts, hooking a thumb into his rim, breaching for a moment just to retreat again.

Traitorously, his hips push back on the finger.

“Aren’t you greedy?” James comments, “I want you to use your words though.”

“James.”

His husband tzks.

Regulus has to squeeze his eyes shut tightly, chin crinkling, lip wobbling, “Please.”

“Please what?”

Another hit when Regulus doesn’t give an answer fast enough, this on right on the crease of his thigh. More spitting, landing carelessly on the meat of his ass and slowly trickling between his cheeks.

It takes a moment for Regulus to realize the sound in the kitchen is his own whine. “More, please.”

James hums above him, leaning over him to kiss at his neck. “Just a little bit more specific, baby. I know you can do it.” He punctuates the demand by teasingly swiping two fingers through the spit and prodding at his entrance but not slipping them in.

Regulus grits out a harsh pant, thighs starting to tremble. His ass stings like a bitch and his cock is throbbing, hard and neglected and all he can think about is that he wants James’ teeth in the nape of his neck. The overwhelming desire to be good and pliant as he gets utterly annihilated.

“Breed me, Jamie.”

His husband curses, voice strangled, and then he proceeds to fuck him so hard Regulus doesn’t know up from down anymore.

They have to call Effie and Monty to pick Harrie up from kindergarten one and a half hours later.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Like Lightening

Summary: A Snapshot of Elvis and Elaine, newly married, hardly satiated, very in love

Warnings: 18+ entirely made up of fluff and smut and fluffy smut, sorry to the sweet ask -this got a bit off track. We don’t have them going at it like bunnies herein so much as alluding to that having been happening and determined to continue. What we do have is a lotta smutty thoughts, breeding kink, innocence kink, oral sex fem receiving, unkosher usage of baby oil, the very beginning of penetrative sex, some begging and dirty talk…most importantly we’ve got a bit of body consciousness, Elaine is slightly embarrassed by her new stretch marks and her pretty husband sets out to show her they’re incredibly cool

Word count: 5k

Hope you enjoy sweet anon, so sorry your original ask got eaten by tumblr, I hope this notification finds you!

Elaine had taken to water calisthenics classes at the Elders Club in Killeen Texas out of sheer need to move without dying of heatstroke. Swelling each day into a fluffy little matron, Elaine made house for Elvis on base one month after the next as May and then June and then July ticked on by in a sweltering dust cloud. And, whenever she wouldn’t be missed, the new Mrs Presley dashed to the pool and swam with the grandmas.

It drew a bit of a crowd, this swimming of hers, and Elvis, sympathetic and prouder than anything, took it upon himself to order from the catalogs the very best and loveliest and most advantageous swimsuits to accommodate his wife’s growing belly and plush breasts to their best advantage. He also threatened crushed jugulars and broken spines if any of his army buddies so much as drove by the dinky place for a peek at his ripe little woman.

Truth be told the larger she grew, the more evident her condition, the fruit of his loins obvious to the world, the more Elvis’ excitement for her grew. If breaking her innocence had proven more tantalizing in theory than practice and if her submission had been a versatile thing he found himself often teetering under the sway of, this, her ripening form, was one fantasy that matched his dreams.

In the early morning her plush body wrapped beside his was the only thing dragging him out of bed for basic and to watch her clip clop about in heels and a ever stretched apron while serving him breakfast was a sorta dream state of things he hadn’t dared hope would be as perfect as it was in reality. All that sickly pallor and nausea of the early months had vanished in its place he had a freckle-nosed bride shimmying into dresses increasingly too fitted. Zippers groaned and buttons popped in their little house on base and Elvis gloried in it, sat on the edge of his bed and watched her dressing struggles with splayed thighs and appreciative groans. He reveled in putting his hands on her to aid her and glutted at what he’d done to her fresh little self. He liked to tease her to “suck in” when her bust no longer fit in her old dresses.

“You’re carryin’ my whole world” he told her time and again, whispering it into her ear and squeezing her tight. He sang to his babies and they quited, he read to them from the Gospels and they kicked: “just like the John the Baptist” and in the latter months when he’d teasingly mimic a babe's cry when snuggling his wife, her breasts would begin to leak.

And now the swimsuits. Graduating up one size after another in these later months, Laney had packed on a bit of tush along with her belly and tits and the sway of it, atop long stems sat upon pretty footsies in heeled sandals, drove Elvis and half his army mates wild. See, after awhile, the secret was out and the other army wives came to swim, too. And their husbands became over eager to pick them up after class.

Threats be damned. Elaine Presley was sweet and pretty and often made chit chat with their wives and babies, towel slung uselessly over her shoulders and pool droplets running from her clavicle to the never-never-land of her bosoms when she bent to kiss a child or two goodbye. Just lanky enough to require a bend, that lady, and just affectionate enough to not content herself with head pats.

Dodger observed these things and pondered them but kept her mouth shut, sat like a disapproving crow under a umbrella and sipping gin and tonics after Elaine had insisted they wouldn’t kill her. Elaine liked to press the cold glasses to her throat when playing Bingo on the patio chairs. Eileen Macdermot went home, scandalized, one day at the way the girl splayed her legs over the side of the lounger, like a primitive or else - a man.

These things filling her days and bothering neither of the newlyweds much, if at all, Elvis had come home one evening to the smell of pork chops and gravy and no Laney in his kitchen. Their house was tiny with few rooms and after inspecting the empty single bedroom he proceeded into their bathroom and found her there, stripping out of her sodden swimsuit.

It was black, with lemons on it and white polka dots intermingled and it paired so well with her tanned skin and white headband that Elvis groaned aloud at the sight and spooked his wife who didn’t suspect him home.

“Lord, Elvis-“ She clutched her chest and heaved in a breath, smile breaking out as soon as her shock calmed, “-you’re home early.”

He wrapped a hand around the doorframe and practically lounged against it as much a person could lounge while standing, while vertical, stupid, giddy grin in place. She was halfway through stripping and there was something so very domestic, jarringly normal and almost raw about seeing his swim pink wife in a modest chipped tile bathroom of a single bedroom house, swollen and barefoot. Just one more regular American housewife among many in a tidy row of white picket fenced army accommodations.

Playing house, it was moments like these when it hit him just real enough to taste a dream and chew it and swallow it down till it fizzled out his fingers and mouth in a hunger fueled by gratitude. This wasn’t gonna last forever, not the normality of basic training or the ruthless hours of not belonging to himself, this too would pass he told himself when it got awful. But so would these precious days of just the two of them, Laney alone to putter around their house and think only of him and he to come home to her with only her on his mind and in his arms.

“Elvis?” she prodded again when he barely managed more than a soothing, faraway humm of greeting when she calmed.

“Yes Mrs. Presley?” he asked, doorframe digging into his cheek, wondering when she was going to drop the lovely sweetheart neckline she was clutching to those creamy tits that heaved under his stare like she didn’t endure such admirations regularly.

“A-are you going to-“ she was oddly hesitant, his pretty wife tonight, she’d been a bit voracious recently as the health came back to her but maybe it was just the fright.

“Am I gonna what, babydoll?” he asked softly, eyes flicking up to meet hers and he saw a little panic brewing in their warm depths. “Why, what’s this, huh? Caught ya at something?” he teased her, genuinely unsure of what was amiss and why she still clutched the soggy suit to her goose pimpled skin. “You’re gonna get cold, shuggums.” he straightened up and moved towards her, army boots mashing down the pretty green pile of the bathroom rug.

She stepped back reflexively before catching herself and giving a forced little laugh and shrug, a shrug that was very hampered in it’s carefree intentions with the way her arms crisscrossed over her chest. Perhaps he’d been too eager for her lately, he thought with self chastising consternation, perhaps she was flighty from soreness or neglect of more cerebral pursuits or maybe it was bad news from home.

“Is everything alright?” he finally asked, grave and soft spoken.

“Oh yes I was just-“ she mumbled, gesturing to the pink marbled countertop and its bottle of baby oil and pearlescent nail polish “-about to moisturize. The pool, the chlorine it…I’ve become itchy lately after going in. Doctor said it was normal, stretching and such but-“ she raised her eyes to his and they looked so young without the coal lining of cosmetics, sometimes he forgot his Tink wasn’t an ancient love goddess, just a sweet and unsure teenage girl. “I didn’t expect you home so soon.”

It didn’t make sense why her tone would be apologetic about that. He was early and she was industrious, dinner already baking and even if she hadn’t -they’d been making such ravenous love of late that often they ate charred remains of her carefully made meals or else opted for burgers at the joint in town. There’d been no apologies then; why now?

“C’mere babeh, lemme help.” he drawled and before she knew it he’d slinked across to her and laid his warm hand on her chilled shoulders.

Such lovely, large hands, they spanned her shoulders and a clavicle each, thumbs meeting like a little talisman adornment at the hollow of her throat. Seconds before he even did it she could predict the soothing swipe of his thumbs there, and so he did, and like clockwork she found herself taking in a larger breath, one that expanded her chest and made her clutched swimsuit a little obviously absurd. She used the breath he’d given her to let out a sigh of defeat.

“I’ve been growing.” she admitted rather resignedly and at this admittance Elvis had to check himself from nodding in furious, appreciative agreement, there was invisibly some catch here and in his own enjoyment of her ‘state’ he tried his damndest to recall it must be uncomfortable at best, growing and stretching and creating life inside one’s guts. Hell he wanted to die sometimes from too many sandwiches, how much fuller she must feel, about ready to burst with kids.

So he restrained his enthusiasm and nodded encouragingly. “Mhmm.”

“All perfectly normal, doctor says it is and others too, all the others say so. Nothing out of the ordinary and I was expecting it. Yet still, it’s quite-“ Elaine trailed off on this long prelude and Elvis held his breath lest his concern leach into impatience.

“Buuuuut?”

“But it doesn’t lessen that it’s quite ugly.” Once decided upon a course she finished up quite tidily but Elvis found himself further confused.

“What is, baby?” he asked, bewildered. “What’s ugly?”

“This.” she gestured resignedly at her belly and scratched the clinging nylon, her skin irritated from the pool.

“Don’t, stop that.” he chided softly, knowing it would make it worse and caught her waists in his hands, swaying them between them gently. “I don’t know what you’re on about but let’s get oil on there so you ain’t so prickly.” he suggested and let go of her hands, dropping them gently before raising his hands to her shoulders again and sensuously trailing his fingertips over the swell of her breasts till he met lemons and polka dots, and peeled the material down away ever so gently. “How’d you plan on hidin’ from me?” he asked her as the pert darlings came into view with the enlarged areolas and lengthening nipples.

“I wasn’t planning!” Elaine protested, biting her lip as he tugged further “It just- it showed up out of nowhere and it’s-“

He’d managed to peel the thing over half her ponderous belly, uncovering her belly button, when he caught sight of something entirely new. Red with a tinge of silver, a split, a crack, a bolt, scarred across her navel, running up and down -straight as a proper zig zag.

“Well. Goddamn.” he breathed, sitting back on his heels to take it in. His hand shook a little as he laid his palm on the stretch mark, an awed expression on his face as it was nearly the length of his whole hand. “Why, goddamn Tink,” he repeated, marveling, “you’ve got yourself an honest to God lightnin’ bolt on yous.”

Like her belly were heaven and in the paying of her dues for such a miracle as two lives with one body, it had been rent like a sheet. His stomach churned, something a little worshipful filling him. He took his hand away, marveling at the perfect design.

A lightning bolt. That’s not at all what Elaine expected from him, some kindness and maybe even relieving indifference, she anticipated that despite her embarrassment, but awe wasn’t on the cards. “I guess it rather does look like…that.”

“Looks like Shazam done paid you a visit, lil mama.” he nodded enthusiastically and Elaine laughed before she could help herself, thinking it funny her naked state was suddenly a costume in his mind. “Don’t you see it?” he crunched down to his knees and took her still suit clad hips in his hands and turned her towards the mirror.

“I-I suppose it bears some resemblance.” she muttered with distaste at the sight of it only more angry and prominent since the pool. “It’s a horrid color, looks like an scar already-“

“-oh hush up it’s amazing.” Elvis swatted her backside with his hand and she yelped, the jangle of his watch chain familiar as was his grinning face at belly level. “You’re mama’s all down on herself,” he loudly whispered to the babies inside her house, “don’t appreciate the fact she’s lookin’ like an gen-u-ine superhero. I know how to solve that.” he muttered darkly and Elaine felt him gather her hands again and he placed one in the counter for stability before he yanked the rest of her wet costume off, letting it pool round her ankles and helping her disentangle it.

“What are you going to do?” she asked with some trepidation as she stood fully naked before his keeling, uniformed, booted figure.

“Gonna convince ya.” he stated sure of himself before reaching for her nail polish, the pearlescent, silver shimmer of it drawing his eye like a magpie. “Gold would suit better, but between you’n’me doll, we’ll assume it’s platinum.” he murmured conspiratorially before giving her a solemn wink and unscrewing the cap.

Before she could worry for his trousers, he didn’t carry her foot to his knee and paint her toes. No. Instead he brought the tiny brush and its icy paint to her belly and began to swipe it along the design of her recent marring. Elaine gasped at the chill and in shock of his ingenuity, the tongue bitten concentration on his pretty face and the way his free hand splayed on her skin like an artist’s beside its canvas, anchoring his work.

Tink was yet a new little thing, barely broken into the art of the marriage bed and now accommodating his children, her bred little body hadn’t yet widened in all the ways it would eventually come labor. Her hips were beginning to comically expand whereas her waist in the back remained tapered and gave her a nearly illustrated quality to her proportions, that Elvis had begun to obsess over watching in the mirror when he was taking her.

Everything about her was ripe and taut and now this. He found his eyes going glossy and he tried to finish his painting in a tidy manner, his groin pusing distractingly beneath the material of his slacks as he worked lower, catching a whiff of her own interest in those soft curls.

He could almost taste her by memory.

He pulled away and surveyed his work, immensely pleased with the glistening silver lightning bolt stamped across his children's abode.

“It’ll smear with the oil.” was all she said, soft, distant.

“Then we’ll have to let it dry.” he decided, letting his fingers trace up the backs of her shapely thighs, appreciating soft flesh and toned ridges. He gave it some thought before he pursed his lips and blew. His cold breath blasted against the freezing polish and Elaine felt herself start, a gush of arousal puddling between her lips, almost burning at her entrance as she tried to clench it shut, keep some demureness in the face of it all. She thought she’d caught him sniffing, it wouldn’t do to have her legs a running mess with her need.

But the chilled ghosting of his breaths, the tantalizing burn of his fingertips’ trail- they made her throb and Elaine let out a helpless little moan, shifting on the pink rug in restless wanting.

“What’s that, baby honey?” he asked softly, looking up at her equal parts eager and questioning. “Makin’ you feel funny?”

“It’s the oddest sensation.” she shivered.

“What’s it make you want?”

“You.”

“Which’aways?”

“All of the ways.” she giggled bashully and stared at her swollen reflection and his at faucet level in the mirror, kneeling still. She chose to put her foot on the counter top, opposite hand balancing against the wall, “Elvis, won’t you lick me, please?” she asked.

“Since you ask so nicely.” he whispered, “And since you hold the power of a million universes.” he gestured to her belly once more before ducking his head running his nose along the seam of her slit, nudging her nosing like a puppy.

He hadn’t even kissed her mouth in greeting. He regretted that before opening his poofy lips and beginning to caress her pretty pink labia like he was smooching a lover. A gush let out against his chin, she must’ve been keeping that to herself for some time, there was too much of it. As was the pained moan that followed as her cunt clenched around nothing at his expert manipulations and teases. He opened his jaw and gathered as much of her in as he could before closing his mouth and sucking, amused at the sounds of shock she made as he swirled her, guarding her from his teeth, just his tongue and lips and the hot inferno of his mouth turning her to puddy.

He reached into his pants pocket and adjusted himself, and finding the need to touch too strong to ignore, he kept his hand there and jostled his stick and balls like a boy, moaning further into the taste of her as she came down from her high. She tasted different since pregnancy, and of late, was wet at whim. Elaine was as puzzled and shocked by the changes in her own body as he was, and it gave Elvis immense satisfaction to further surprise her with what he could draw from it. It drove him mad, this shock of hers, and he flattened his tongue and gave her a few parting, broad strokes to collect his winnings as she shoved at his shoulders in helpless, sensitive distress, yelping and shuttering and her propped leg kicking the bottle of oil over and off the counter.

He caught it before it hit the ground without even pulling his face from her muff. Elaine giggled again at his skill before whining at his repeated attempts to slurp at her sensitivity.

“You still gots an itch, lil mama?” he asked her, finally pulling away and looking up at her from under the dome of her belly, his hands planted on hips and his face aglow with her pleasure.

“I do.” she whined breathily, slumping against the wall.

He neared her again with his face and she questioned his motive the whole way until he stuck out his tongue and tried the nail polish on her belly. “S’dried.” he informed her as if he hadn’t just done a stupid thing and then with a decisive nod of his head, swiftly rose back to his full height and presented his hand to her.

“You come with me now, and I’ll tend to it.” he said and, meek as a lamb, Elaine put her little hand into his sticky one and he tugged her into the bedroom, oil bottle in hand. “If we’d been bad, mamas, if we’d been real naughty like, if I’d been a lil less good to ya, we’d be a couple of young folks new married and you swellin’ and barely a pan on the stove or a mattress on much else but floor. We wouldn’t be playin’ house in this lil shack, we’d be livin’ it and barely makin’ it.” he explained to her and Elaine was confused by his meaning, his analogy too, and where this was coming from, but pliant and tripping over her own feet from post orgasmic clumsiness, she chose not to question it, assumed it was play acting of sorts as he led her to the foot of their bed and sat himself down on the floor, still holding her hand. “But even then, Laney baby,” he glowed up at her with a bright, crooked grin on his slick face, “even if we was poor as dirt, I’d invest in a mirror so I could watch that tight lil snatch under your pretty belly swallowing me down like it’s got hunger pains.”

Elaine whirled around and stared at the mirror opposite the bed, positioned lovingly in the tiny space of a walkway where she might view the effect of her outfits and he might straighten his uniform, but perhaps more intentionally, it was placed opposite the bed where Elvis managed to configure them most times in some manner and at some point in their lovemaking so that they were near the foot of the bed and he might watch. Recently Elaine had come to enjoy the nearly lewd prospect of her growing body being gripped and kneaded and caressed, the unarguable beauty of it in the reflected image convincing her of prettiness she herself did not always feel.

The act, him, her responses to them both -they were all still new to her and now this, this pregnancy and the surprise of a million unexpected things.

Surveying themselves in the mirror she thought he looked a bit more debauched than herself, fully dressed though he was. He sat on the floor like a drunk, pussy dazed and loose, legs splayed and collar wet, pit stains prominent and swollen outline bulging in his pants. In his dishevelment he looked worse news than her wholesome nakedness and she licked her lips at the thought that it wasn’t at all wrong to indulge in such a dangerous fella. He belonged to her, and she to him.

“Did you ever think about it, Elvis?” she asked eagerly, her face aflame.

“Think of what, darlin?” he murmured, lazily undoing his fly and pulling himself out, pumping his fat pink member with an elegant pump of his wrist, ogling her appreciatively like she was a poster looming above him and not a living woman stepped between his thighs.

It made her drip. Elaine could feel the slick down to her knee, a stray dribble escaping her curls. Since marrying, since rubbing shoulders with other married women and being allowed into the gossipy little circles on base, she had begun to grow an inkling of awareness that her case was rather special. It was true, all couples made love, most couples had children, and plenty of couples were in love. But there were extracurriculars, such as she had been led to believe quite common in her own marriage, that were rarely mentioned by others, and if so, done with scandalized and hurried admittance. Elaine had begun to notice that while plenty of men liked their wives, wanted their wives even, there was a peculiar singleness of focus to her husband‘s interest in her that was not matched by others. Why, she’d even become aware of men’s magazines and the reasons for their existence, and yet never had seen one in her husband‘s possession, although she had awoke plenty of times to the sight of him pleasuring himself over her sleeping form, or as he was now, unabashedly admiring his view. She was in essence, both fantasy and form for him.

It was enough to make any woman proud and wet.

“Think of what?” he repeated with a laugh and an edge to his voice, looking up at her under an arch brow.

Elaine snapped out of her daydream and stepped up to him, enjoying the way his hands cupped the back of her knees, a little tickle, his head leaned back against the mattress. “Did you ever think to -think of…taking me sooner?” she asked, carding her fingers through his hair. “Ruining me early?” she smiled at the thought, at how clueless and helpless she’d have been if one of those nights on the den floor at Graceland during their short engagement, if one of those times he had rolled atop her - her sleeping father be damned - and had his way. It wasn’t his style but she wondered, what with the way Elvis could barely make it to the wedding, now that she knew what she knew, she wondered. In another world, would she have been a plundered little thing and he a dutiful young bachelor with a set of twins in need of a baptism to cover their conception?

“Thought of it every goddamn night.” he admitted earnestly, “Ruined a couple dozen pants over it.”

“No!”

“Mhmm.”

“Heavens. But never- you never-“

“-not while I was with ya. Bad as I wanted it.” he tisked, “I done told ya, you’re special baby. I was savin’ ya, couldn’t have brought myself to it, had plans for ya.”

Those plans of his were kicking and rolling in her belly as her heart rate sped up with the gentle trailing of his fingers over her thighs and the sight of his bobbing cock, jutting out from his uniform pants.

“I see.” Elaine simpered and pressed her palms to his own, swaying over him before he tugged her down, doing a pretty, clumsy little split over his lap. He groaned at the contact and the sight of her bare backside in the mirror.

“I missed ya today, Mrs. Presley.” he informed her as always and Elaine was grinning when he slotted his mouth against hers in a long overdue lover’s greeting.

Elaine blithely allowed him his smooching way across her throat and the swell of her decollage as she set to undoing his tie with loving firmness, and then stripping the pungent material of his worn shirt off his shoulders and at last tugging his trousers further down which broke his kisses contact and caused much protest. She stayed firm however, insisting that painting her belly with polish was one thing, but if he thought she was going to risk baby oil stains on that uniform, he had another thing coming.

“Your supposition bein’ that I’ll be in some position for stainin’!” he protested as if she were the one with all the wiles and meddlesome ideas.

“What plans did you have for it?” She asked dryly, crouched at his feet and yanking his boots off with much eagerness and little finesse.

“I intended to slather it on my wife.”

“Funny how what’s slathered on me always ends up slathered on you.” she pondered with a pretentious finger to her lips before she was tugged back atop his now bare lap, and spun so that she could lean against his chest.

“S’not always slathered.” he rebuts in a low tone, his voice gone intimate at the new position and their bare cuddling. Elvis hooked his chin over her shoulder and petted the lightening bolt gleaming so well in the mirror, the late summer’s sun beaming through the slanted blinds. He should close them before he did what he intended, before they got nekid in the first place, but if they were just any ole new couple there’d be no need with being off the road and the blinds partially drawn.

He squeezed her harder and reached for the oil. “S’not always slathered, sometimes I manage to get it real nice’n’deep, don’t I?”

Elaine sucked in a shaky breath as she felt him shift beneath her in his reach, the hot, eager firmness of him cradled under her cunt lips. She felt their privates begin to pulse in unison.

“Don’t I?” he asked her, one oily hand splayed low on her belly and the other gripping her jaw.

“Yes.” Elaine moaned, her head lolling back against his shoulder so she might keep his gaze.

His hand began to move again.

Slathering.

“Hmm?”

“Yes, daddy.” she whispered, and saw him smirk in satisfaction.

Witchcraft, it was, the way his hand could go through all the same motions as before but like a switch flipped, his own intent could bleed into his touch and suddenly he had gone from tending her stretched skin to driving her mad, oil and warmth spreading all over her, her breasts shining, her shoulders shining, her thighs aglow and golden.

Shining, all of her.

Elvis hooked his hands under her knees and spread her legs, bent and wide, feet settled far apart on either side of his own thighs. She could see little Elvis twitching futilely against his thigh, glossy, shiny, leaking oil himself. She cupped them both and did some slathering herself, wiping his arousal up her slit, rubbing his head and her puffy bud with her fingertips, the both of them moaning and whimpering in unison at the tease.

“Baby, baby let’s…let’s…” he was saying urgently and she pulled her hand away at his direction, allowing him to bring the bottle between their legs.

She felt that patter of drops against her clit and the silky run of it down to his cock. She ached, back arched and hips grinding against him like she could start a fire with the friction if she moved insistently enough.

“I-I-I want it!” she begged, overcome and her neck straining as she tilted her face to the ceiling. Waterstains patterned the white paint and she squeezed her eyes shut in a exstastic grimace as she felt him pull at his cock and tap it, all oily slapping, at her spread petals. “Elvis, please, please put it in.”

“Mm, m’not sure you’re slick enough.” he disagreed slyly, rubbing his glans against her fiery little hole as her legs kicked out in frustration. She knew he was staring in the mirror at his handiwork without even having to glance there herself. She squinted harder and aimed a thrust downwards, catching him. It was bend or enter. She had him, it took great willpower to hide her smirk as his breath gusted against her cheek.

“My baby still got an itch?” he asked softly, his large hand cupping their joining, just the tip of him snug and cozy inside her swollen channel.

“Yeah.”

“Where?” Elvis rumbled in her ear.

She took his shiny hand and spread it low on the lightening bolt, “Here, real deep.” Elaine whispered, “Right hyer.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. Xoxo 💋

@prompted-wordsmith

@powerofelvis

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

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@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

@ashtag2887

@dkayfixates

@vampireindistress

@ashtag6887

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@obsessedvibee

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@loving-elvis

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@jaqueline19997

@queenheartz

@starryschoolgirl

@elvisalltheway101

[uluvjay]

prompts 22 & 19 from the smut list w brady skjei please!! him and reader are at a team pool party or bbq or something and after readers been purposefully teasing/sitting on his lap, he pulls her inside

19. "Strip. Now."

22. "can you feel what your doing to me?"

Brady Skjei x reader

warnings?; SMUT, teasing, dom! Brady , degrading, p in v, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks!), Quickie sex

You knew what you were doing and you just had to hope that your sweet husband didn't catch onto your game before you could get what you want. What was it that you wanted? To get Brady wound up and make him fuck you like there was no tomorrow, why? well because Brady had decided to take your usual Sunday spent between the sheets to go golfing instead.

You were perched on top of his lap while he sat on one of the chairs in the backyard of his captains home at the team’s annual end of the season barbecue. You sported one of Brady's favorite sundresses and you could tell the low cut around your breasts was starting to get to him as he wouldn't stop moving from underneath you.

"You look beautiful today" he spoke into your ear, placing a kiss behind it.

"Thank you" you thanked him before turning yourself and purposefully putting pressure near his growing bulge.

"wanna know something?" you whispered

"hmm?"

"I'm not wearing any panties" you told him with a smirk as you watched his eyes darken and he let out a small groan.

"are you serious?" he asked with a stern tone

"Why don't you take me inside and find out”

After you said that Brady quickly moved you to stand up and announced to the small group you two were going to get some more food.

But that was far from the truth as he pulled you into one of the guest rooms and inside the bathroom attached after locking both doors.

He pushed you against the door and applied a hand to your throat, his wedding band cold against your hot skin.

“God your such a slut, getting me turned on at my captains pool party” he spoke into your ear

“And your an asshole for getting me turned on and then going golfing for five hours on Sunday” you sassed.

He let out a mean laugh in response and began sliding his hand up under the skirt of your dress, running a finger through your bare folds.

“As much as I’d like to fuck you stupid and punish you, we’re on a time crunch so Strip.now.”

And for once you did as told and slid the dress off, you heard your husband groan at the sight of your bare body. He pulled you close again and smashed his lips against yours.

When you two pulled apart he turned you and bent you over the skin, you heard him pull his swim trunks down and suck in a deep breath as the cold air met his hard cock.

“Can you feel what you do to me?" he questioned you as he ran his hard tip through your folds.

"Brady stop teasing and just fuck me" you whined out

"such a greedy whore" he taunted before sliding himself inside your warm pussy, letting out a groan at the feeling of you hugging him.

you let out your own moan at the feeling of him finally being inside of you, "ohh, Brady" you moaned as he began thrusting his hips at a fast pace.

you watched through the mirror as he threw his head back and landed a hard smack to your ass, "taking me so well, cunt was made for me" he said meeting your eyes in the mirror

"Only you daddy" you moaned out to him, not caring about your volume

"yeah baby that's right, only my cock gets to fuck this greedy pussy" he told you as he began to slow down and fuck you slow and deep.

"Gonna come B, please can i cum? i wanna cum all over your dick" you cried out

"yeah baby go ahead" he told you as he reached a hand down and began to rub your clit making you cry even louder at the added pleasure.

"Brady! fuck i'm cumming" you cried, looking up and making eye contact in the mirror again

he fucked you through your high before he came to his own, "where do you want me?"

"inside, cum inside please" you egged him

and with a deep groan you felt your husbands cum spill deep inside you as you began to slowly fuck yourself onto him to help him through his high.

"we're the worst guests ever" he laughed as you both cleaned yourselves up and began to head back out.

you agreed before unlocking the bedroom door to be met with an amused Jordan Stall, "you two horn dogs really couldn't wait?" he asked with a laugh.

you blushed bright red while Brady shrugged and replied "when the lady needs it, she gets it" causing them to both laugh and you smack him on the arm.

-

[minister-for-femslash]

The Truth?

Summary; After Imogen accidentally falls into Laudna's dream, she finds herself face to face with Delilah Briarwood, who wants to show her exactly what happened on the day Laudna died.

Pairings; Laudna/Imogen

Warnings; Torture and mentions of character death

Word Count; 1,885

Imogen doesn't mean to, dream walking is something she's never really done before. But its been so stressful recently and they finally have a chance to stop and not quite relax - that feels like an impossibility at this point – but there's a moment of calm where her and Laudna can curl up together just the two of them. She takes off the circlet because she needs the peace that comes with being immersed in the melody of Laudna's thoughts.

Laudna drifts off first and with their psychic link open, Imogen drifts off with her.

Her mind tumbles.

She finds herself in a corridor, high ceilings and thick stone walls. It's cold, there's a harshness in the air. Dark and dank. Water drips from the ceiling. There's a small wooden door behind her and lanterns on the wall. It feels familiar, but this isn't hers.

“Hello.” Her voice echoes back at her. “Anybody here.” She takes a tentative step forward and peers down the corridor. She's reluctant to go too far. Exploring her own dreams is one thing but accidentally tumbling into someone else's is different.

“Laudna! Are you here!?”

There's a whimper. It's faint, not soft and gentle but coarse like somebody's throat is dry.

“Laudna!”

Another whimper, louder this time. Imogen takes another tentative step, and then another and another. There are bars, thick rusted steel. The stone wall turns into a cell.

Imogen freezes. She knows what this is, where this is. When this is. She doesn't want to see. She doesn't.

“Laudna,” she whispers.

“She can't hear you, dear.”

The voice comes from behind her. Imogen has only heard it once or twice, a faint response to a desperate message sent but she recognises it instantly. A deep seated anger swells inside her chest, an unintentional snarl creeps onto her face as she spins around.

Delilah Briarwood stands in front of her in a long flowing dark purple dress, a choker necklace with a green stone in the centre and the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. “She's a little busy. Reminiscing.”

“Is this because of you? Is this what you make her dream?”

“Only sometimes, when she needs a reminder of exactly who made her.”

Imogen doesn't hesitate. Rage flashes and her hand shoots out, a psychic lance aimed straight at Delilah's heart.

It misses.

Delilah's form shimmers, flicker out for just a moment and the psychic lance slams into the wall behind.

A pain filled cry comes from the cell.

“Stop it! Stop this now!” Imogen yells.

“Now now dear, there's no need for tantrums. Don't you want to see the beauty of her creation.” Delilah brushes past her and heads towards the cell, stepping through the bars as if they're not there. “Sylas, darling. Don't be too hard on our sweet girl. She needs to be recognisable.”

Imogen turns away. If she can leave, if she can propel herself out of this dream then she can wake Laudna up. She can free her from this. But the corridor is gone, a large stone wall now inches away from her nose. There's pressure on her shoulders like hands grasping tight. She's pulled back. Her feet scrap against the ground as she tries to resist but this isn't her dream. She isn't in control.

She's dragged up against the bars.

Delilah is in front of her, twirling a large curved blade between her fingers. Behind her is a man, broad shouldered. He has slick-backed dark hair with a white streak running through the middle. There's blood on his hands. He's bent over a figure. Over Laudna.

“My husband, Sylas.” Delilah says. “Such a beautifully vicious man.”

“Don't touch her.” Something raw and bitter wedges itself in the back of Imogen's throat. Her vision blurs and she knows there's a risk of tears.

Delilah laughs. “This moment is long over, it can't be changed. Just relived. And I do hope you aren't lying to yourself, my dear. Even if you could change this, you wouldn't.”

“You're wrong. I won't let you hurt Laudna, ever.” She rushes forward, expecting to move through the bars as easily as Delilah did, but instead she slams into them. Locked out.

“This isn't Laudna. This is Matilda.” She steps back and allows Imogen to see.

Laudna is on the floor, curled up in a tight ball. Blood coats her skin, seeps deep into the fabric of her clothes. There are so many wounds, too many for Imogen to be able to focus on. Her limbs are twisted, bent at odd angles.

“Why would you change this? This is the day of her ascension. Matilda dies so that Laudna can be born, and you, the one who claims to love her the most should see the beauty in this moment.” Delilah brushes past Sylas and kneels down next to Laudna. She picks her up and cradles her almost gently.

Laudna's eyes are open and Imogen can see the pain in them. The fear. She makes another move for the bars, but they hold firm

“It's Laudna you care for, Matilda is just a tragic story. It's Laudna you want, so watch me create her for you.” Delilah brushes the hair away from Laudna's face. It's slick with blood. She brings the knife down against Laudna's ear.

Imogen tries to grasp at the knife with telekinesis, tries to yank it out of Delilah's hand. “Don't!” Imogen tries again. “I said don't!” And again.

It fails.

At the last second Imogen turns away. She can't watch this. She can't. Her eyes slam shut and she tries to will herself awake. To will herself somewhere else.

Laudna screams.

It's the most horrifying sound Imogen has ever heard.

“She made me so proud that day.” A finger presses against her chin, forces her head up and there stands Delilah, blood on her hands.

The stone walls are gone. The bars are gone. They're outside now, the Sun Tree in the distance behind Delilah, it's decaying branches seem to sprout from her shoulders like a grotesque parody of Laudna's beautiful transformation.

“She was Sylas's favourite. Of all the people he hurt, she was the one he loved the most,” Delilah says. “The others were weak, they couldn't survive his viciousness. They were long dead before our presentation. But my Laudna, she lasted.”

“I hate you. What you did to her...” The tears begin to falls. “I hate you.”

There are heavy footsteps behind her, the crunch of gravel under thick boots. Sylas brushes past her. Laudna is in his arms. Her head lolls against his shoulder. Her clothes have been changed, the blood washed away and a single feather placed into her hair.

Delilah and Sylas head off down the path. That invisible force wraps itself around Imogen once again, her arms are pinned as she's pulled forward, forced to walk just behind them. She struggles, tries to fight against the bonds. In her head she screams, rage and desperation battering against the inside of her own mind. She reaches for that connection, for that blinding white light and the power that caused her to level an entire city block. She needs it now. But she's alone.

“We're the same, you and me,” Delilah says.

They're suddenly at the base of the Sun Tree. Quickly. Too quickly. A noose already hangs from a branch.

“No. We're not.”

“I was willing to fight death herself to save the one I love -” Delilah runs her hand down Sylas' shoulder - “and you will do the same. For her.”

Sylas lays Laudna on the ground and then steps back.

“Witch!” A voice comes from the ether.

The night slips into day. The Sun Tree and the noose fades, the house and taverns slowly transform into carts and market stalls.

“She's a witch!”

A crowd slowly forms, their faces twisted with anger and fear. With hatred.

Laudna fumbles, and this is Laudna, not Matilda. She looks exactly as she did the day they met. Pale skin, a flowy black dress, her hair pinned up with a tiny rock hammer. Paté is hooked on her belt, not yet animated but still a piece of her. The small basket falls from Laudna's hands, the fruit she's brought spilling out.

The murmurs are growing, the whispers turning harsher, more vicious.

“It's her. She's poisoning our crops!”

“My horses died because of her!”

This isn't Whitestone, this is Gelvaan and Imogen knows what happens here. What she does. The crowd is growing bigger, a harsh tension building and there's nothing Imogen can do.

Laudna stumbles backwards, tries to speak, to explain, but she stutters unable to be heard over the bark of the crowd.

A rock is thrown. It catches Laudna in the side of the head. She's knocked to the ground, a drop of blood appearing above her eye.

“Leave her alone!” The words are ripped from Imogen's throat. She charges forward, physically forcing her way through the crowd.

Laudna is curled up trying to make herself as small as possible.

“Laudna.” Imogen drops to her knees. “It's okay. You're going to be okay.”

Another rock is thrown. This one misses but it comes close and Laudna visibly flinches.

Something in Imogen snaps. “Back off!” There's an explosion. It rips from the centre of Imogen's chest, this cacophony of pure defensive energy whips through the air.

The crowd is blasted back. Market stalls are thrown into the air, crashing into walls. Windows smash, bodies go flying. A storm of debris, wood and stones, and heavy rocks swirl, forming a protective ring around them. Imogen clings to Laudna tight.

“How do I bring her back? Tell me what to do. I'll do anything.” Imogen's own voice echoes in the air. It doesn't come from her lips, these are words spoken what seems like a lifetime ago.

The storm suddenly drops. Bodies are scattered across the thoroughfare, streaks of blood splashed across the path.

Delilah stands before them, larger than she's ever been. She towers over them. “You begged me once, to save her. I want you to understand, Imogen Temult. Look how far you will go to protect her. Without me there is no Laudna and if you want to keep her, you need me.” Delilah walks towards them, her shadow stretching out behind her.

Delilah kneels in front of her. Imogen's arms wrap tighter around Laudna in some futile attempt at protecting her from the monster.

Delilah grabs Imogen's chin. “This is why I can trust you. You will give me everything I want as long as it keeps her by your side.”

Delilah leans in. Imogen tries to pull back but Delilah's grip is like a vice. She presses a kiss against Imogen's cheek. “You're going to make an excellent daughter-in-law.”

Imogen wakes with a gasp.

Laudna is still asleep beside her, her arm draped across Imogen's waist. She feels nauseous, there are tears on her cheeks. She reaches for Laudna, her fingers brushing just above Laudna's eyes, the wound is long healed but sometimes Imogen can still see it.

She gently presses their foreheads together. “I love you.” Imogen can still feel Delilah's grip on her chin, the ghost of that kiss on her cheek. “I won't let her take you from me.”

[mellowsadistic]

Jessie played with her toys, pouting. This was so stupid! She was a grown woman for goodness sake, yet here she was shuffling around her nursery wearing a nappy like some dumb baby.

She took a deep breath. It would be over soon, she told herself. One month, that was how long her boyfriend had to diaper train her. He’d agreed that if he couldn’t do it in that time, he’d let her be a big girl again. She supposed she should count herself lucky. A lot of other women weren’t being given a choice at all – a couple of her friends had already been reduced to a pair of stupid little Pamper packers.

Jessie wrinkled her nose in disgust. It was pathetic! How could anyone let that happen to them? They obviously hadn’t been resisting hard enough. She sneered. Maybe they even liked it. There was certainly no way a strong-willed woman like her was going to end up as some dumb little diaper dumper!

She shuffled over to a pile of baby blocks, her nappy squishing wetly between her thighs. She didn’t remember going pee-pee, but that was okay. As long as she still had her bowel control, she wouldn’t count as fully diaper trained. And she could easily get her bladder control back when the month was up. Only one week left!

She grunted softly and bent over, concentrating on stacking her blocks. There was a strange fullness in her bottom, but the feeling went away quickly, and she ignored it. She’d just finished stacking a load of blocks together when she froze. Something had squished against her bottom. She gave her hips a little wiggle. There was definitely something back there. Her diaper felt heavier. Then a yucky smell reached her noise.

Jessie straightened up, a chill running down her spine. No…She couldn’t have… Not without noticing… With mounting horror, she reached behind her and cupped the seat of what was obviously a droopy, messy, fully loaded nappy.

Her mouth dropped open. No! This couldn’t be happening! This might happen to other girls, but not her!

“Uh-oh!” came a deep, amused voice from behind her, and she looked around sharply to see her boyfriend standing in the doorway, smirking. “I think someone’s made a stinky!” he cooed. Then he tilted his head, looking at her curiously. “That’s funny. You usually come and beg me to let you use the potty when you have to go poo-poo.”

“I didn’t…” she began, disoriented, “I didn’t realise… I didn’t know…”

Her boyfriend’s eyes seemed to light up, and a sinister smile spread across his face. “You didn’t know you had to go?” he finished for her.

Jessie could only look up at him in horror, but he could see the answer in her face.

“Good girl!” he gushed, walking over to kiss her on the forehead. There was a mocking sweetness in his tone. “What a good girl for messing yourself without knowing! Tell Daddy all about it, princess. Did you feel yourself start to go poopy? Or did you just realise you were messy all of a sudden?”

But Jessie just stared ahead of her, wide-eyed and horrified. A low whining started in her throat, and then, “I don’t wanna be incontinent!” she wailed, breaking down into tears.

“Awww, it’s okay sweetheart,” her boyfriend cooed, pulling her into a cuddle and reaching down to pat the sagging seat of her loaded nappy. “You’ll get used to being a yucky little pants-pooper.”

She cried even harder at that.

“No more toilets for my little princess!” he went on happily. “Just think – you actually thought that I wouldn’t be able to nappy train you. And now you’re just another diaper-dependent baby woman.” He pulled out of the hug and cupped her face gently in his hand, wiping away her tears. “You used to make fun of girls like that, didn’t you sweetie?” he asked, his eyes glittering maliciously. “The ones who’d failed to prevent themselves being fully nappy trained by their husbands or boyfriends. Remind me what you always called them again?”

Jessie screwed up her eyes in shame, crying even more. “P… P… Pamper packers!” she hiccupped.

“That’s right,” her boyfriend said, nodding thoughtfully. “I guess that’s what you are now, isn’t it baby?” He spoke lightly, but his eyes were still sparkling with sadistic delight.

When she didn’t answer, he put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “What are you, little one?” he asked firmly.

Jessie sobbed again, staring up at him through her tear-stained eyes. “I’m a Pamper packer…” she whimpered.

“A bit louder, sweetie.”

“I’m a Pamper packer!” she cried.

“And what else did you call those girls, sweetie?” he asked. “What was your other name for them?”

Jessie mewled pathetically. “Diaper dumpers!” she sobbed.

“And you are…” he began for her.

“I’m a diaper dumper!” she wailed.

Her Daddy smiled, satisfied. “That’s my good girl. I can’t wait to parade you in front of all your friends in your messy nappies. But that will have to come later. Lie down on your back, darling. I think my Pamper-packing, diaper-dumping, nappy-filling little girlfriend needs a change!”

[randomguyonline71]

So nobody is going to talk about how Anakin and Padmé basically got engaged during TPM?

"I'm going to marry you," the boy said suddenly.

And then a little later:

"It's beautiful. But I don't need this to remember you." Her face lifted to his with a smile. "How could I forget my future husband?" She looked down at the pendant, fingering it thoughtfully.

Full scenes below.

She was looking back at him now, embarrassment turning to curiosity. She was small and slender with long, braided brown hair, brown eyes, and a face he found so beautiful that he had nothing to which he could compare it. She was dressed in rough peasant's clothing, but she seemed very self-possessed. She gave him an amused smile, and he felt himself melting in confusion and wonder. He took a deep breath.

"Are you an angel?" he asked quietly.

The girl stared. "What?"

"An angel." Anakin straightened a bit. "They live on the moons of Iego, I think. They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They are good and kind, and so pretty they make even the most hardened space pirates cry like small children."

She gave him a confused look. "I've never heard of angels," she said.

"You must be one of them," Anakin insisted. "Maybe you just don't know it."

"You're a funny little boy." The amused smile returned. "How do you know so much?"

Anakin smiled back and shrugged. "I listen to all the traders and pilots who come through here." He glanced toward the salvage yard. "I'm a pilot, you know. Someday, I'm going to fly away from this place."

The girl wandered to one end of the counter, looked away, then back again. "Have you been here long?"

"Since I was very little-three, I think. My mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt, but she lost us to Watto, betting on the pod races. Watto's a lot better master, I think."

She stared at him in shock. "You're a slave?"

The way she said it made Anakin feel ashamed and angry. He glared at her defiantly. "I am a person!"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, looking upset and embarrassed. "I don't fully understand, I guess. This is a strange world to me."

He studied her intently for a moment, thinking of other things, wanting to tell her of them. "You are a strange girl to me," he said instead. He swung his legs out from the counter. "My name is Anakin Skywalker."

She brushed at her hair. "Padme Naberrie."

The strange creature she had come in with wandered back to the front of the shop and bent over a stout little droid body with a bulbous nose. Reaching up curiously, it pushed at the nose with one finger. Instantly armatures popped out from every direction, metal limbs swinging into place. The droid's motors whizzed and whirred, and it jerked to life and began moving forward. Padme's odd companion went after it with a moan of dismay, grabbing on in an effort to slow it down, but the droid continued marching through the shop, knocking over everything it came in contact with.

"Hit the nose!" Anakin called out, unable to keep himself from laughing. The creature did as it was told, pounding the droid's nose wildly. The droid stopped at once, the arms and legs retracted, the motors shut down, and the droid went still.

Both Anakin and Padme were laughing now, and their laughter increased as they saw the look on the unfortunate creature's long - billed face. Anakin looked at Padme and the girl at him. Their laughter died away. The girl reached up to touch her hair self-consciously, but she did not divert her gaze.

"I'm going to marry you," the boy said suddenly.

There was a moment of silence, and she began laughing again, a sweet musical sound he didn't mind at all. The creature who accompanied her rolled his eyes.

"I mean it," he insisted.

"You are an odd one," she said, her laughter dying away. "Why do you say that?"

He hesitated. "I guess because it's what I believe…"

Her smile was dazzling. "Well, I'm afraid I can't marry you…" She paused, searching her memory for his name.

"Anakin," he said.

"Anakin." She cocked her head. "You're just a little boy."

His gaze was intense as he faced her. "I won't always be," he said quietly.

______________________________________________________________

"Here," he said, "I made this for you. So you'd remember me. I carved it out of a japor snippet. Take it. It will bring you good fortune." He handed her an intricately carved wooden pendant. She studied it a moment, face lowered in shadow, then slipped it around her neck.

"It's beautiful. But I don't need this to remember you." Her face lifted to his with a smile. "How could I forget my future husband?" She looked down at the pendant, fingering it thoughtfully. "Many things will change when we reach Coruscant, Annie. My caring for you will not be one of them."

The boy nodded, swallowing. "I know. And I won't stop caring for you, either. Only, I miss -" His voice broke, and the tears sprang into his eyes once more.

"You miss your mother," the girl finished quietly.

Anakin nodded, wiping at his face, unable to speak a word as Padme Naberrie drew him against her and held him close.

[countrymusiclover]

104 - Working through Changes

Part 105

Gemini Runaway

@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

Alina’s pov

Hugging my knees to my chest I couldn’t stop crying. We had gotten home by sunset and I couldn’t bring myself to go see my youngest sister. Someone knocked on the door that I didn’t bother locking. “Alina, it’s me. Can I come in?” I recognized my father’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Sure…I guess so.” I muttered knowing he would hear me with his vampire ears. His gaze scanned over the room seeing the lamp on my desk was snapped. The curtains weren’t burning and the glass in the mirror was shattered to pieces on the floor.

He slowly bent down on a knee seeing my eyes were red from crying for hours on end. “Alina, please talk to me. Tell me what you are feeling now.”

“I killed my sister, dad….I killed Missy….she’s dead because of me!” I raised my head up from my knees hugging my knees tightly to my chest even more than I already was.

He reached his hand forward, placing it on my knee making me look him in the eye. I saw the look in his eyes when she died in his arms and I will never get that image out of my memory. “Lina, every werewolf has to go through this. But don’t think for a moment that your mother and I hate you for it. A witch told us after all that she would become a heretic at some point.”

“Does Missy hate me? Jackson probably does and now he won’t want to be with me.” I croaked through tears before my father slowly pulled me in for a hug.

Gripping his shoulders I buried my face against his chest crying even more than I had before he came into my room. He ran one hand through my hair glancing over his shoulder when he heard someone standing in the doorway. “You can ask Missy when you leave this room. Your mother is getting her blood now. As for Jackson, I’ll let him talk.”

“Jack, you stayed. I thought…you would have..ran for the hills.” I sniffed breaking the hug between my dad and I.

Jackson sat down on the floor with us, taking my hands in his, giving me a bright smile. He moved one hand up holding my cheek. “My mom was there the night I turned but for everything leading up to it and after she wasn’t really there to help me. Help me through the pain that I would have to live with after killing somebody. I won’t do that to you. I’m here for everything.”

“Thank you, Jack. Uh dad…there’s a full moon in two days. Could we get married so that Jack can be there when I turn and he doesn’t have to chain himself away from me?” I glanced up to my father who had gotten to his feet.

He smiled toward us gesturing for us to follow him out. “I don’t see why not. Come on, let's go see your sister.” Jackson and I got to our feet where I felt him take my hand in his sending me a kind smile leading me after my dad.

Raelyn’s pov

Sitting at the foot of my daughter’s bed I just ran my fingers through Missy’s hair slowly. Even though she was sixteen I would still see her as the sweet six year old she used to be. Regardless once she took some blood she would be stuck at age sixteen forever like Caroline was. “I know you can hear me, Melissa. And I just want you to know that even though when you open your eyes everything will feel strange. But we will be here to help you through this.”

“Is she alright now?” Glancing over my shoulder I noticed my second daughter walk in the room with Jackson and my husband.

Getting up from the bed I slumped my shoulders walking over to her simply hugging her while I said my next words. “She will be once she feeds on some human blood. It’s after that is where it will be the hardest. How are you though?”

“I’ll get through it. But um…Jackson and I want to get married before I turn on the full moon in two days. Right now though I need to know she doesn’t hate me….and that my little sister will….that my twin will be okay.” Alina started crying when I slightly pulled back from the hug.

Wiping away her tears with my thumbs I called out to Nik who had gone into the kitchen where we kept some blood bags. “Sssh Lina. She will be fine okay. Nik, did you find one she might like?”

“I did…Missy if you can hear me squeeze my finger.” Klaus sat down in the spot I was in moments ago. The bed creaked when he did so and he held out his left index finger searching her face.

Missy made a noise of discomfort raising her hand and she did in fact tug on his finger that he held in front of her. “Dad…my mouth hurts.” She winced, blinking her eyes opened meeting his blue eyes with her own.

“If you drink this it’ll feel better. Type O negative. Just a hint of copper aftertaste. You’ll learn to love it.” He tore the bag open and held the end up to her. She sat up with his help holding onto his forearm slowly drinking the liquid.

She coughed pushing the bag slightly away before her fangs broke over her normal teeth and were revealed to everyone in the room. “Can I have more?” She asked him eyeing the bag with puppy dog eyes and the veins began appearing under her eyes.

Klaus tucked hair behind her ear for her while she finished the bag. “You can have whatever you want honey. And you’re mother and I will be here to help you through the life of being a vampire and a witch.”

“Mommy, daddy. Is Missy awake?” Everyone turned their heads to the doorway seeing that Hope and Henrik were standing there.

Missy scooted against the pillow feeling her fangs started breaking through again where she buried her face underneath the pillows. “I’m not feeling good…uh get him out of here.”

“Is she okay, mommy?” Henrik asked when I came over and scooped him up into my arms knowing that her desire for blood was sensing him more than anyone else in the room.

Hugging him against my chest I had Hope following me since I needed to be there for Missy since I was the only heretic besides my brother. “Yeah she’s just feeling a little sick and she doesn’t want you to catch it. So you stay in here and play with your sister…I’ll find you in a few minutes.” I whispered to my daughter seeing her nod before I vamped off to find Freya and Klaus talking in one of the other main rooms.

“So you want me to use my magic so that Rebekah and Kol can be at a wedding that is being planned in 48 hours. Do you hear yourself when you come up with these plans?” Freya put a hand to her forehead feeling a headache coming on.

Klaus rolled his eyes, throwing his hands away from his sides. “Alina wants to marry Jackson before the full moon. It will happen at sunrise if it will make her happy before she has to go through with her first transformation.”

“But do you understand that you could be putting the whole city in danger just to have them there for a few hours.” She raised her tone.

Stomping into the room I made them both turn their heads in my direction. “My daughter just had to watch her younger twin turn into a vampire and now has to live with the fact that it was her fault that she died. So if marrying Jackson in two days will make her happy then we will make it so without a hiccup of hesitation is that clear!”

“Fine, I’ll figure something out. Plus I know Rebekah would kill me if she wasn’t at her niece’s wedding.” Freya sighed heavily leaving us alone in the room.

Slumping my shoulders I threw my head back knowing we needed to talk about the woman who had caused all this mess in the first place. “Greta is still out there. What are we going to do about her when we find her?”

“We will deal with her how we deal with all our other enemies, Rae. With fear and blood.” My husband wrapped his arms around my waist before I laid my head against his chest softly.

Lifting my head up to meet his gaze I lightly smirked at him. “And once we have her tied up in the basement we can let Alina and Missy tear her to bits. They deserve it more than anyone else does.”

“God I love you, Raelyn. You were always meant for me.” Nik smiled leaning down, capturing my lips with his.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I depended on the kids pulling his head down to mine so I didn’t have to be on my toes. “You were my first and always be the only man for me.” I giggled when he pulled me up wrapping my legs around his waist.

“Looks like we’re planning our sixteen year old daughter’s wedding in two days.” He smiled, shaking his head with my hair falling in front of his eyes, kissing me quickly.

Running my fingers through his hair he vamped me against the wall of the bedroom door. I warned him, feeling his hands going underneath my shirt. “Don’t go and get me pregnant again Niklaus. Four kids is enough at the moment.”

“You can’t be angry at me for still finding you the most beautiful woman I have seen in my thousand years on this earth. Sometimes I can’t help myself, Rae.” His voice went thick and raspy where I tangled my fingers in his locks and he kept kissing me with our bodies pressed against the hard wooden walls behind us.

Breaking the heated kiss I shake my head. “At least wait a few months until they go back to school. Please for me.”

“Whatever you want, heretic queen.” He breathed out, drawing me in for another hungry kiss.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[evansbby]

okay but i am in love with exhusband!ari universe. i am obsessed with the ‘we’re not together but we’re basically together trope’ !

• anyways i have three big ideas for it . one was already discussed but it’s when he’s having sex with his new girlfriend and he has to call his ex wife to help him get off. and his new girlfriend says nothing because she likes ari too much to say anything. and the whole time ari is on the phone, he is saying the most obscene disgusting things to his ex wife (and his new girlfriend kind of likes it)

• which leads me to the second idea of ari fucking his ex wife in front of his new girl !

• and another one is where he’s on a date with his new girlfriend but halfway through he decides that they’re leaving the restaurant just to go to his ex wife’s house. and his new girlfriend gets to see ari baby his ex wife and basically be her daddy !

i cannot thank you enough for introducing this trope ,, i will never have enough of it!

omg bestie these thots are so fucking sexy omfg!!! 🫣🫣😵‍💫😵‍💫

Yes, while ex-husband!Ari is having sex with his current girlfriend of the week, he’s also on the phone with you, making sure to keep his girlfriend’s head buried in a pillow while he talks to you, “baby you’re so cute and sweet. What are you wearing today? Your yellow sundress that I bought you that one time? Oh, honey, I bet you look so fucking hot. Mm, thank me. Thank me for praising you.” And when you thank him in your cute, timid voice, he cums hard inside his girlfriend, closing his eyes and pretending it’s you of course 😌

And oh my fucking god, the idea of ex-husband!Ari fucking you in front of his current girlfriend is just so sexy!!! Imagine, he’s chilling in his house with his girlfriend when she has to go to the bathroom. And then the doorbell rings and it’s you, all sad and crying bc your date stood you up and you had nowhere else to go. Of course, Ari invites you in, one thing leads to another and suddenly you’re on his lap, making out with him while he’s got his hand up your skirt and Ari is sooo smug.

And he’s completely unbothered when his girlfriend returns from the bathroom, gasping and in shock bc by now Ari has you bent over the couch, fucking the living daylights out of you, telling you how you’re the sexiest baby wife and how he owns you and loves you the most. How he loves you so much that he’s fucking you in front of his own girlfriend. And you’re crying from embarrassment and overwhelming pleasure, trying to push him off and apologising to his girlfriend (who is just frozen in place, watching the sexiness in front of her unfold) but Ari won’t let you, making you cum and squirt around his dick so many times till you’re dumb, and even his girlfriend’s got her hand down her own pants 😳

Oh and of course ex-husband!Ari ends his own dates early to visit you in your house (with his girlfriend there as well) bc he thinks that’s completely normal and doesn’t give a fuck what you or his girlfriend thinks. And she has to watch him pull you into his lap, kiss you and coo at you while you giggle shyly, and try to bat his hands away. He’s acting all daddy, telling you how you can’t forget to turn the gas off the stove at night etc etc, and you accidentally blurt out “yes daddy!” And you’re like 😳🫣 and Ari’s girlfriend is like 😡🤬😤😖🤔 and Ari is like 😏🥵😍

[softquietsteadylove]

So I just finished watching Mr. And Mrs. Smith but I tried picturing Mr. Smith as Don. Maybe you could turn it to "Mr. And Mrs. Lee" pls.

"What are you thinking?"

Thena raises a brow. He's asking this now? She's in the middle of tying up some minor wounds for him. Wounds she inflicted on him--she thought he was an intruder!

They both thought the other was an intruder. Normal people might have called out for their spouse in curiosity, but neither are trained to be normal people.

"You have to ask?"

"I didn't think I would," Gilgamesh sighs, still letting her softer hands smooth over the cuts he acquired from her apparent knife specialty. "But...I don't know anymore."

Thena sighs. That's only fair. There is a lot they're...overdue to share. Clarify, maybe. "Ask away, then."

Gil stays sitting facing away from her, letting her work in the remains of their living room. He rests his arms on his bent knees. "How did it happen--for you?"

She knows what he's asking. No matter what lies or half-truths they've built their marriage around, he is still her husband. And even with all she's kept from him, he still knows her better than any other person alive. "Imagine...imagine your father is the head of this...agency. And he's raised you to be one of those agents. Your whole life is this job--before it's even yours."

"One day, you get this mission. It's a big one, too, in service to some mysterious higher power. You get sent after an agent from somewhere within that higher power because he's suspected of not being so loyal to Mister Arishem."

"Then you get there, and you meet him," Thena sighs. Her hands are starting to shake as she winds the bandage around his torso. "And he's rather nice--sweet, actually. And he's funny, and...maybe you think he's kind of cute."

Gil smiles, attempting to get a look at her but getting his chin moved back around.

"Forward."

"Sorry," he chuckles, knowing what he needs to. He knows she's telling the truth because she hates being looked at when she does. She only ever makes her confessions in the dark of night, while turned around, maybe in the occasional voice memo in which he could hear that vulnerability under her taut surface.

"And then," Thena continues, determined to get out the words she has never wanted to even think aloud. "I--you don't know what happened. Suddenly you're hoping to run into him again. You start looking at apartment listings even though you've only ever stayed in quarters afforded by the agency."

"And your target - the mark - isn't...he isn't just a file." It comes out soft, almost brittle. "His name is Gilgamesh, but he likes to be called Gil. And he has a nice smile, and he holds doors open for you, and you leave your father's wing just so you can get an apartment where he can come over and eat takeout and watch stupid television and-"

Gil wants to turn and look at her. And she doesn't stop him this time.

Thena blinks, hoping to dispel some of the tears in her eyes, "and you're in love with him. So in love it's more terrifying than any mission. And you don't know how it happened, but there you are, saying yes when he asks you to marry him."

Gil gulps. He's never seen her cry real tears. He's seen them maybe in the corners of her eyes, but even at their wedding, she was all smiles. Although, now that he's thinking about it, maybe that's a much better alternative. "Do you mean it?--when you say yes?"

"Of course," Thena whispers, all but crumbling to the floor, among the scrapes in the wood and the shattered glass. But her husband pulls her into his lap, and she buries her face in his chest. "It's the truest thing you've ever said in your life."

Gil sighs, resting his chin on her hair. They've done this a few times, and he can vividly remember every time. Times when they're done making love and he gets to see that Thena is actually a soft, breakable human being instead of a walking switchblade. Times when she's trying to get something off her tongue and he tells her he doesn't need her to say it--so long as she loves him. Times when he thinks he could retire just so he never has to let go of her.

Thena shifts, wrapping her arms around him. He responds naturally, picking her up and carrying her out of the wreckage. They end up back in their bedroom. She stares up at the ceiling light, with the light bulb she'd meant to change for five weeks because Gil kept asking her to and she kept forgetting.

Gil lets out a groan as he lies down beside her. He sustained more injuries than she did--and he's glad. As soon as he discovered the assailant he thought was there to do in both him and Thena was, in fact, his wife, he stopped. He reared up and away from her like a spooked horse.

His wife has a hell of a left hook, though, even as a right-y.

"I always wondered what they were thinking with that stupid stucco ceiling texture."

Gil lets out a laugh. Thena does too. He always wondered how she became so fascinated with interior design (even when he thought she was technically a high profile lawyer). Now he realises it's because she never had a home of her own before that first apartment of hers he went to seven years ago, Chinese takeout and a bouquet of lilies in hand. "I knew you hated it."

Thena shrugs, "it takes a lot of time to redo a ceiling. Neither of us would be home enough to make sure the work was done properly."

"Make sure the house was secure enough while we were both away?"

"Exactly."

[americasass91]

Baby Fever

Hello lovelies! I hope everyone is well! This little fic is for the amazingly talented @buckyownsmylife​ 2k/Birthday Challenge! Which the theme for it was breeding kink. Which how could I not participate in that? Breeding kink just happens to be one of the biggest kinks I have(and i don’t even want kids, go figure) So I looked through my Masterlist and realized I didn’t have a breeding kink fic with Steve. Well, I can’t say that anymore!

Thank you for hosting this challenge you lovely, beautiful human! And congrats on the 2k!! You deserve that and so much more! I hope everyone enjoys!

Rating: Explicit (duh, it’s a breeding kink fic)

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: breeding kink(again, duh), Professor!Steve(I feel like he’s a warning all by himself, language, age gap, unprotected sex(I mean, it’s kind of implied but I’ll put the warning anyway)

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

“How long do we have to stay at this thing?”

You help can’t but roll your eyes at your husband of 4 months. “I told you I’m not sure. It’s my niece’s 1st birthday party. You could’ve stayed home you know.”

Steve pulls up to your sister’s house and parks among the other vehicles in the front yard. “Yeah and give them even more reasons to hate me? No thanks.”

See, Steve wasn’t your family’s favorite person. It all has to do with the fact that he’s 10 years older than you and how you guys met, which was during your freshman year of college. You were the innocent student and he was your history professor.

The attraction was instant and very mutual between you two. But dating students at this particular university was frowned upon and Steve could have lost his job. So, you admired each other from afar….that is until the semester was over. You went to visit him in his office after your last class and he eagerly bent you over his desk and ruined you for any other future man you may have.

Well, that was 6 years ago now. Your family of course didn’t approve and thought he was just taking advantage of a young, naive student. Your mom was the first to come around when she noticed a change in your demeanor and how happy he made you. She talked some sense into your dad and he eventually backed off as well.  

It took until Steve put a ring on your finger for your sister to accept him. Although you know her and her friends still judged you two. You could tell by the looks you guys always got whenever around them. You learned to not let it bother you. Steve was amazing. He was attentive, caring, and he loved you with everything he had. The only flaw he had was that he didn’t want kids.

It almost made you consider not marrying him. You had always wanted kids. But, in the end you realized you wanted Steve for the rest of your life more than a baby. But he did adopt a kitten with you. So it’s a win, win.

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

He gets out of the car and grabs the gift out of the trunk. You had gotten her an outfit that says ‘My aunt is cooler than your aunt’ and various toys that she would enjoy. Plus, being the book editor you were, you couldn’t not get her a book. So, you got her the very first Harry Potter book. When Steve saw you wrapping it with a questioning look, you told him it was never too early to start a child’s transition into being a Potterhead.

You skipped excitedly next to Steve as you made your way to the front door. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm. “You excited or something, sweetheart?”

After ringing the doorbell, you turn towards him. “Of course I am! I love my little niece!”

Truth was, you knew you were never going to have a baby of your own. So you poured all of your love and joy for a baby into your niece.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when your brother-in-law, Matt, answers the door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rogers! Glad you made it! Come on in!” He ushers you 2 inside, helping you both hang your coats up in the hall closet. He then points to the obvious gift table. “You can just set that down there, Steve. And if you’d like, me and a bunch of the other husbands are downstairs in the basement watching the game. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Steve looks at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a quick pecking the lips. “Go have fun. Just make sure to come back up for food and presents.”

As Steve heads downstairs with Matt, you can’t help but take in all the decorations. Little Miss Lindsey just happens to currently be obsessed with The Little Mermaid. So of course the theme is under the sea. Your sister really went all out. Streamers, balloons, and even mermaid figurines were everywhere. There’s even mermaid confetti on the tables.

You head in search of your sister and the birthday girl, one of which you find in the kitchen. “Hey sis! Need any help?”

Your sister, Rachel, turns from the hot dog sauce she’s stirring on the stove and gives you a big hug. “Oh, thank god you’re here! Can you grab the vegetable tray and potato salad out of the fridge and put them on that table over there?”

“Sure! Where’s Linds?” You ask as you grab the requested items out of the fridge.

Your sister returns to the sauce on the stove. “She’s still napping. I should be getting her up soon. Where’s Steve? He stay home? I know this isn’t really his thing.”

You take the plastic wrap off the potato salad and sit it amongst the smorgasbord of other food on the table. “Of course he’s here. He’s down in the basement with the other men.”

You sister lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I told Matt they could only watch until everybody got here. Ah, shit. I think I hear Lindsey crying.”

“I’ll get her!” Quickly jumping at the chance to see her.

“You sure? That would be great! The outfit I want her to wear is on the changing table. And can you do her hair up in the bow, too?”

“You got it!” You make your way down the hall towards Lindsey’s room, her crying getting louder. You open the door and see her sitting up in her crib. Her crying quiets the moment she sees you. She gets a big ole smile on her face and reaches out for you. “Hi, sweet girl! How is the birthday girl today?” You pick her up and give her a big hug. “How about we get you changed into your party outfit?” She just coos back at you in response.

You push her outfit aside and lay her down on the changing table. Quickly realizing she’s wet, you give her a fresh diaper. She attempts to ‘help’ as you try to change her into her party outfit. Which after it’s on her, she looks like a little mermaid. You quickly brush her hair and pull as much of it as you can into a ponytail on the top of her head and add the matching bow. You stand back a little from her and clap your hands. “What a pretty girl! Are you ready to join your party?” You pick her up and turn around to head out of the room. You’re surprised to see your husband standing in the doorway.

“Hey, I thought you were watching the game?” He shrugs his shoulders and walks towards you two. “I missed you.” He tickles Lindsey’s side, causing her to giggle. “Happy Birthday, little one.” You can’t help but feel your heart warm. That always happens anytime your husband interacts with a baby.

“I was just helping Rachel out by getting her ready. She seemed a little frazzled in the kitchen.” You turn your attention back to Lindsey. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s go join your mommy in the kitchen!”

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The next hour goes by in a blur. You weren’t really paying attention to anyone else. All of yours on Lindsey. The only food she seemed to want was what was on your plate. You didn’t mind sharing. Then she got to ‘smash’ her cake. Which for Lindsey it meant taking delicate little bites from said cake, mostly of the icing. She did still manage to get it all down the front of her though. But that’s okay, Rachel of course had a back up outfit ready.

You had just polished off your hot dog when Rachel walked back into the room with a now clean Lindsey. Steve grabbed yours and his plates to go dispose of.

Rachel sat on the floor with Lindsey who immediately started crawling towards you. “I think you’re gonna have to join us, sis.”

You can tell it’s hurting Rachel’s feelings a little that Lindsey is so attached to you today. Nevertheless, you join them on the floor, placing Lindsey in your lap. “Ready to open presents, sweet girl?”

Rachel turns to Matt. “Honey, could you start handing out the presents please?”

He nods and goes to grab the first of many presents. He sits it down in front of Lindsey who immediately goes for the tissue paper. She doesn’t even seem to care about the present in the bag. You laugh and try to get her attention on the gift inside.

You look up and see everyone laughing at the birthday girl who only wants the tissue paper. You notice Steve towards the back of the crowd, only he’s not laughing. He’s giving you a look. You’ve seen that look before. It instantly sends a shiver down your spine and makes your panties wet. He wants you.

You try to give him a stern look. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that in the middle of your niece’s party. He puts his hands up in surrender.

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After taking almost 2 hours to open the rest of the gifts, Lindsey was a sleepy girl. You were sitting on the couch with Lindsey cuddled up into your chest. You were gently rocking her back and forth. You look over at your sister who was cleaning up the mess from the presents.

“I can go put her down for a nap, Rach. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, sis. You seem to be her favorite person today so she’d probably scream if I tried to do it. Matt! Could you get a bottle ready for Lindsey so my sister can put her down for her nap?”

A few minutes later he comes out with the bottle and hands it to you.

You stand up and look over at Steve. “I shouldn’t be too long. Did you want to head out of here after I put her down? I know you still have those papers to grade.”

He nods. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Thanks, sweetheart.”

You squeeze his bicep as you pass by him. “Of course not. Like I said, this shouldn’t take too long.” You glance at Lindsey and notice she’s having trouble keeping her eyes open.

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Just like you predicted, it only took Lindsey about 15 minutes to fall asleep. You take one last glance at her, your heart tugging a little, knowing you’ll never have one of your own.

You quietly close the door and don’t even take 2 steps before the door across the hall opens to reveal Steve. You look at him in confusion. “Babe? Why are you in the laundry room?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he grabs your arm and pulls you into the room with him. He makes sure to shut the door behind him.

“Steve, what are you doing? I thought we were leaving?”

He pushes you to the front of the washing machine and presses himself up against you, immediately making you feel how hard he is. “Need you, baby.” He reaches around and starts undoing your jeans.

You start pushing his hands away and try to turn around. His hold on your waist tightens, stopping you.

“Steve, we are not doing this here. You can wait until we get home.”

You are suddenly pushed until your front is resting on the top of the washing machine, Steve covering his body with yours. He lets out a low growl in your ear. “This” he presses his bulge more firmly against your ass “is your fault. So, you’re going to help me with it.”

You turn your head to the side as he pushes your jeans over the curve of your ass. “Me? What the fuck did I do? I haven’t even really talked to you today. Been with Lindsey all day.”

He fastens his pace in removing his own jeans, only lowering them enough to free his aching cock. He lands a smack to your panty covered ass. “Exactly. Made me so hard watching you with the baby. Made me think what it’d be like if we had one. What you’d look like swelled with my kid. Knew I had to have you.”

You managed to push him back far enough to stand up straight and turn around to face him. “Steve, I’m not going to let you fuck me in my sister’s laundry room.” He launches at you, trapping your body between his and the washing machine. “It’s cute that you think you’re in charge. Now, I’m going to fuck a baby into you. And I can either do that here or I’ll take you out in the living room where everyone is and bend you over there.”

Fuck. These panties are officially fucked. Still, you have questions. “I thought you didn’t want kids, Steve? Plus I’m on the pill.”

His face turns soft for a second. He cups your cheek in his left hand. “I didn’t think I did. But seeing you with her today? Now that’s all I want, all I can think about. You with our baby. You’d be the best mother. And you’ll just stop taking your pill. Starting today. We’ll keep trying until it takes. Is this something you’re even still wanting?”

You grab onto his wrist and push your cheek against his palm. “Of course it is.” You turn back around and bend over the washer. You lower your panties to your knees and shake your ass in his direction. “Well? What are you waiting for? Fuck a baby into me, Steve.”

He growls and closes the distance between you. He grabs the base of his cock and rubs the tip through your dripping folds. “Don’t have time to stretch you out first, sweetheart. And I’m really worked up, so this will probably be quick.”

You push back against him, eager to get him inside you already. “Don’t care. Just please, fuck me Professor Rogers.” You knew that’d get him.

“Fuck.” Is the only warning you get before he buries himself in you to the hilt. He just gets his hand over your mouth before your moan escapes your throat.

He only gives you a second to adjust to his size before he starts a bruising pace. After a few thrusts, he removes his hand from your mouth and smacks your ass. He feels you clench around him. “Yeah? You like when your professor fucks you?”

You quickly nod your head. “Yeah. You fuck me so good. Need your cum. Need you to fill me up.”

Steve quickens his pace even more if that’s possible. He moves his left hand off your hip and moves it around you to find your clit. He presses quick circles against it. “Need you to cum first, sweetheart. Need to feel you squeeze me.”

You start pushing back to meet his thrusts. You can feel the coil inside you ready to snap. You just need a little something more.

Steve leans over you and starts pressing kisses up your spine, his pace never faltering. Once he reaches your shoulder, he bites down lightly. He moves his mouth next to your ear. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum for your professor. Then I’ll fill you up nice and full, get you pregnant. Cum for me, Y/N.”

You press your face into the crook of your elbow to muffle your scream as you cum undone on his cock. Your orgasm triggers his. He cums with a quiet shout as he fills you full of his spend, some of it leaking out around him. He gives a few more shallow thrusts before stopping and catching his breath.

He rubs his hands up and down your back. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You turn your head so you can look at him. “Mmm, i’m great.” You can’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling drunk on sex.

Steve smiles down at you and moves his hand until it’s resting on your lower stomach. “I hope it worked.” He slowly pulls out and watches as his cum starts leaking out of your pussy. He quickly scoops it up and pushes it back inside, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t let any of it go to waste.”

Once he’s sure he’s got it all, he quickly pulls your panties back into place. He stands you up and turns you around to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, thank you for being mine.”

You give him a big smile. “I love you, too. And thank you for picking me.” You bend down to pull up your jeans, Steve mirroring your actions. Once you’re both redressed, you wrap your arms around his neck and press a firm kiss to his lips.

“Now, let’s hurry up and get home. Want you to fill me up again.” You give him a wink and turn to head out the door. “You coming?”

He smirks as he starts following you out. “Oh, I will be.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @bluemusickid​ @wanderinglunarnights​ 

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo

[navybrat817]

Quitting Time

Pairing: Chris Beck x Female Reader Summary: After the work day you had, Chris wants to make you feel good... and quit your job. Word Count: Over 900 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, possessive behavior, Chris Beck (he’s a warning, okay?), porn with feels (it’s me). A/N: @sweeterthanthis​ had a long work day and wanted some Chris Beck. More love for our space husband! It’s the first thing I’ve written in over a week, lovelies, so I hope I delivered!

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please comment and reblog if you’re inclined! This blog is 18+!!! Banners by @its-just-may

You loved Chris Beck almost as much as you hated your job at the moment. It was dramatic to think like that, but you had a bad day on top of a bad week.  If you didn’t have bills to pay, you would have walked out then and there. But practicality and your conscience won the battle. For now.

No. You refused to think about that. You refused to think at all. Not when you had your beautiful, brilliant man between your legs. “You better fuck me.”

“Aww. Someone had a bad day,” Chris mocked as he ran his hands up your thighs to push them further apart. He knew you had a bad day, which was why he stripped you down immediately when he got home. “But you don’t get to boss me around, baby. If I want to eat you out until you cry, I will. And I’ll lick up your tears when I’m done.”

You groaned as his hands moved higher, his fingertips spreading your swollen lips. Your pussy twitched under his heated gaze. It was like he was studying it. If your doctor boyfriend wanted to actually play doctor, you wouldn’t stop him. You were also a woman in need. “I’m not allowed to boss you around, but you can keep staring at my cunt?”

“It’s my cunt,” he said in a low voice, making you twitch again as he flicked your clit with thumb. You never would have guessed how possessive he was when the two of you met, but you should have known. It was always the sweet ones. “So let me do my job and take care of her.”

“She’s waiting,” you smirked before he bent his head to taste. He held your legs down easily as his tongue went to work, his strength surprising you. You sometimes forgot about the muscles under those soft sweaters. “Oh, fuck.”

“We’re getting there,” he mumbled against your wet heat before you felt his tongue move along your soft, velvety walls. He traced and teased like he had all the time in the world. When he took his time exploring you like this, you knew your orgasm would be mind-blowing. “Play with your tits, pretty girl. Get your nipples nice and hard for me.”

You felt another jolt of pleasure at his words, eager to please him. It didn’t take him long to discover how hot his take-charge attitude in the bedroom made you. It felt good as you moved your hands along your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipples the way he always did. 

“Wish you could see how wet your pretty hole is. Desperate for me to fuck you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moaned, one hand still teasing your breasts as the other reached down to tug on his hair. Arousal twisted deep in your gut as his tongue stabbed deeper, like he was trying to taste every drop of you. You needed him to split you open with his cock. It would soothe the ache in your throbbing hole.

“Be good for me and I’ll let you ride my face after I fuck you,” he said, sucking on your clit as you pulled him closer. “You want that, baby? Want me to lick my come out of you and make you taste it?”

“Oh, fuck!” you cried as he slid a finger in, clamping down on it desperately. You needed something thick and hard to fill you up. You needed to come. 

“My dirty girl,” he taunted as he pumped his finger, moving his mouth away to nip your thigh. “Should quit your job and just sit on my face and cock all day.”

“Don’t… fuck, tempt me,” you moaned, practically leaking down his fingers as he added another.

“What can I do to convince you?” he asked. “If I keep you sloppy and open for me, will that change your mind?”

Your eyes filled with tears when his fingers curled because, fuck, you were so close. “Fuck, there! Make me come, please.”

“Quit your job,” he ordered, pushing his tongue back in. He moved it in time with his fingers and you swore you were going to die. Your soul was going to leave your body before you even had his cock tonight. 

“Make. Me. Come.”

His chuckle vibrated against your walls as the bastard began to write with his tongue, “Q-U-I-T.”.

Your thighs trembled when he began the next word. You weren’t going to last. “I’ll quit! Just… please, let me come.”

He took pity on you as his thumb rubbed your clit, that last touch making you tip over the edge with a cry. A couple of tears fell as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, wondering for a moment if you could drown in the feel. He didn’t lift his head until you finished riding it out, a beautiful shine on his lips and chin.

Your back arched when he impaled you without warning, crying out louder than before. Your hands flew to his arms as he stretched over you, licking away the tears as he promised. “Chris…” you whined when he froze.

“I mean it. Quit.”

“Chris, we-”

“I love you,” he swore, his kiss deep and filthy in contrast to the words he breathed. “We’ll figure it out.”

You almost cried again, this time from happiness. He only wanted the best for you. “I love you, too… but I need more convincing.”

He rocked his hips with a smirk. “I’ll convince you. Now be good so you can ride my face.”

Who were you to argue with Chris Beck?

[slasherwife]

Can you do a imagine with Thomas please and it's about him being over protective when Hoyt and Monty make gross jokes about her like how's she's really hot and it ends in a lot of smut please ☺️

OMG YES U ABSOLUTELY MAY💓💖💕also after my post on jealous!reader a while back, I’m not very comfortable writing a lot of smut 😖😖 I gave a bit though!!

Imagine Thomas Hewitt getting very protective over you...

Y/n has been a part of the Hewitt family as Tommy’s wife for a while now, and Hoyt isn’t exactly the gentleman he pretends he is… smut below!

Tommy is a sweet, gentle, and loving husband. That much is obvious. You are the light of his life and he hides his violent nature from you as much as possible.

But additionally, Tommy is very protective. To the point if anyone were to make you uncomfortable, they would have him to reckon with.

God forbid you come to him with the complaint of someone insulting or laying a hand on you. It’s very likely he would hunt them down without your knowing, and give them a brutal beating or even kill them.

His rage doesn’t discriminate. Even if Luda were to lay a hand on you, there would be hell to pay. Hoyt’s no different.

Tommy is not an agressive boy. He’s gentle, sweet, kind. He is all of these things all of the time, all except for this moment. But you knew he wasn’t angry with you. He would never. He stormed over to you, towering over your fragile form before taking your wrists in his hands, and taking you into his burly arms. He’s not the type to dramatically throw you over his shoulder and march off. He cradled you into his shoulder. You’re still his beautiful angel who needs to be safe. And right now you’re not safe, he’ll make you safe again Y/n, don’t worry

* * *

You weren’t far into the day before Hoyt’s leering eyes began following your form around the living room and kitchen. Monty was next to him, completely on the same page though they said almost nothing to each other.

Tommy was next to you, cleaning some dishes. Luda hadn’t trust Tommy’s large, clumsy hands with cleaning dishes until you suggested it. Who knew he could be so gentle? He turned to set a stack of wet dishes on the counter, just long enough to catch two pairs of looming eyes across the room. It caught him off guard, and he gave a double take. He knew a lustful gaze when he saw one.

He stared at them, and swayed to backwards slightly, gaining back his balance before throwing his shoulders back. He breathed out, studying them. He squinted, and Hoyt noticed this, looking over to him before yelling at him to get back to work. Tommy was hesitant, but he slowly went back to washing dishes, paying more attention to you, though you didn’t seem to notice Hoyt and Monty’s leer. He hates to turn a blind eye to your safety, he hates himself. But he wanted to protect your innocence, how you didn’t even suspect it. How sweet of you. Poor thing.

When you were putting away utensils, you dropped a simple fork. You hesitantly bent over to pick it up.

“Bend over for me one more time.” Hoyt called as you rose from the floor, and Monty laughed.

Sometime dark and terrifying bubbled up inside of Tommy. He was absolutely fuming. You looked over, gazing into his face. His eyes were dripping with blood lust, at how they dared to speak to his wife that way.

“Tommy, d-don’t—“

But he didn’t bat an eye, instead he was over to them in an instant. How did he get over to them so fast? Hoyt was being hung from Tommy’s whitening fist, clenched so tightly around his neck that Hoyt’s eyes began to turn red and bulge from his sockets. You wanted Tommy’s protection, but you never wanted Tommy to kill Hoyt for you.

You began to cry, those angelic eyes making Tommy all weak. Everything was in slow motion. Hoyt had been hanging there for a bit too long now, the light in his eyes starting to flicker dark. Tommy wanted to tear him apart with his teeth. He hates Hoyt. But you were just too precious. Too sweet.

“Tommy stop it! Stop it! Tommy!” Your voice roused him from his deep rage, and if you did not, he would have murdered his abusive uncle once and for all. He dropped Hoyt, and ignored his pitiful gasping for air and turned to you. You looked like an angel before him. But his pure admiration was cut short by the rage that bubbled up again. Hoyt thinks he can have her. But she’s mine. All mine.

* * *

“Tommy what are you doing?—“

“Mine.” He growled in that deep, smooth voice of his.

“Tommy please.”

“Not allowed to touch you.” He drawled as his caressed your thighs as you sat on top of the dresser of your shared bedroom, you staring up into those hungry orbs of his. “Me only.”

“Of course!” You exclaimed, cheeks red hot with embarrassment as you wrapped your arms around your husband’s neck. You pulled him close, and he ripped his mask off hastily, pressing open mouthed kisses on your neck while you moaned into his ear. He rutted against you when you did that, his head spinning with growing lust as his huge bulge was grinding into your most private area, and your face was red and hot with pleasure.

“Tommy…” you moaned, and he pressed a kissed onto your soft lips while he undressed you.

“He can’t have you. No one can.” He growled, and you nodded vigorously, wanting nothing more than for his to keep grinding against your core.

“I’m yours, Tommy.” You sighed, throwing your head back as his hands wasted no time reaching up your shirt to grip your cute breasts in his meaty hands, his skilled fingers pinching your sensitive nipples making you squeal with delight. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he laid you softly onto your guys’s bed, hovering over you, locking you away from anyone else’s view.

After tonight, no one would look at you the same. Not after they learn that you belong to Tommy Hewitt.

[drakenology]

Dumb Little Housewife

husband!bakugo x housewife!reader

warnings: smut, dumbification kink, unprotected sex, degradation, daddy kink, housewifey stuff ya know?

author’s note: hii! so this is for the new year new kink event with @butterscotchbaku . i’m a little early whoops I couldn’t help myself. go follow her page and all that junk her work is pretty amazing and i’m a HUGE fan ugh her blog is so cute 🥺. and make sure to check out some of the work that participated in this event as well. Hope yall enjoy!

6:30 am, you wake up just before Bakugo to make him his breakfast. You yawn and grab your robe off the back of the bedroom door and tip toe to the kitchen, careful not to wake your sleeping husband on the way out. You hum a little tune while you scramble some eggs and fry a little bit of bacon, happy to please the one you love.

You were grateful he could offer you such a carefree lifestyle. You cook and keep the house clean while Bakugo saves the world, brings home the cash and fucks you nice and good every night. What an even trade. Even though you wouldn’t mind working Bakugo insisted that you stay home, eager and willing to support you both. As you brewed some coffee for you and Katsuki, you find him trudging to the kitchen with a loud and abrupt yawn.

His hair was a mess on top of his head, eyes half lidded and droopy. He’s really at his sexiest when he looks half dead. You smile and hand him his mug as he walked towards you, pulling you closer to him by your waist. You giggle and give him a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Good morning, honey!” You say cheerfully. Bakugo takes a sip of his coffee and sits down at the table.

“G’Mornin.” He said groggily, sleep coating his already deep voice. The sound is almost like sex itself, making the spot between your legs lightly quiver. “‘M workin’ from home today so I’ll be a little busy.”

You pout, almost whine when you hear that Bakugo will basically be at home all day just to ignore you. On top of that you suddenly had an itch only he could scratch since you’re too dumb to get yourself off correctly. Or at least that’s what Katsuki would say. You sigh, feeling particularly bratty this morning and lean against the table in front of him just enough for your robe to droop down and give him a full view of your ample cleavage.

“You can be a little bit late can’t you, Suki?” You mewl, handing him his plate to eat. Bakugo shook his head, staring down into your robe. He was almost persuaded by the sight of your breasts alone but work had to come first even if his hot wife wanted to get fucked right there on the dinner table.

“No I can’t. And don’t try anything while I’m working either, Y/N. You’re already on thin fuckin’ ice.” Bakugo said with his mouth full. You roll your eyes, recalling a few nights when you pushed Katsuki to his limit but he couldn’t punish you right then and there because of work or something or other.

You took full advantage since you and Bakugo hadn’t had sex in about a week since he’d been swamped with hero work. Whether it be sending him videos of you fucking yourself with shaky and clumsy fingers or pictures of you bent over with your pretty panties showing under a dress you wore; you were really pushing your luck.

You pout, grabbing his and your dishes and loaded the dishwasher, hiking your robe up a little to show off your ass in the new thong you bought as you bent over to close the door. Bakugo walks out of the kitchen, smacking your ass hard enough to make you cum right there on the spot. You were already a little wet and needy. You gasp, closing your thighs together as you’re almost brought to your knees by just a strike to the ass.

You had an idea. An idea that was sure to make Bakugo ditch work and fuck you into a stupid bumbling mess.

8:30 am, You walk into the bedroom just past the office Bakugo had set up in to start his work and throw off your robe, adjusting your bra to push your boobs up a bit more. You strut into the office in nothing but your underwear, Bakugo not even turning his head to face you. He was too busy typing up some stupid report or whatever. You grab his chin and pull his head to face you, hovering over him to bury his face between your breasts.

“Y/N so help me...” He hissed, blushing profusely as you climb into his lap. You start to grind up against his thigh, moaning softly as you feel friction for the first time all morning.

“Can’t even work in peace. If only you could see how fucking desperate you look right now.” Bakugo said, only slightly giving in by grabbing your ass with one hand, the other still trying to work.

You bit your lip and blocked his vision of the computer screen with your head and continued to grind on his leg, annoying Bakugo to no end as you completely disobeyed him for the last time. He groaned, stopping his typing to wrap his hand around your neck and pull your ear to his lips.

“You just don’t listen, huh? If it’s dick you want, I’ll make sure you get it all, ya dumb slut.” Bakugo growls into your ear, nipping at your earlobe as you feel yourself get wetter at his lewd words and insults. Bakugo stands on his feet, lifting you up with him as he plopped you onto the desk. You rub your thighs together excitedly as he took your wrists and pinned them above your head.

“Since you can’t keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself.” Bakugo said, yanking your panties to the side with fervor. You gasp as the cold air of the room greet your slick pussy, the feeling quickly being replaced with Bakugo’s thick digits findind their way inside. You whimper, trying to rub your clit to help bring your orgasm closer only to be restricted by your strong husband.

“Nuh uh. Don’t you fucking move. This is what you wanted, right? Now sit and take it like a good whore.” You mewl at his words once more, loving when he talks to you like this. God you couldn’t even compare to the fullness he gave you even with his fingers. Your head was in the clouds now at this point, Bakugo taking one hand to pinch and play with one or your nipples to emphasize the pleasure as he sped up his movements.

Sloshing sounds filled the office, your sopping wet pussy now being abused by Katsuki’s fingers as your slick coated his hand and dripped down your ass onto the desk.

“You’re making such a mess, baby. You’re a sloppy little slut, aren’t you?” Bakugo remarks with a smug look on his face, knowing you’re way too dumb to even form a sentence right now. You bumble and nod, not making a lick of sense when you speak as your moans overtake your own rational thinking.

Katsuki laughs at your dumb little face, tongue lolling out as you pant and cry out for more. Your vision becomes hazy as you come so close to cumming, pleading for Katsuki to make you cum on his fingers since you were being so good only for him to laugh at you. He stops his movements as soon as he felt you were even slightly clenching around him, causing your breathe to be uneven. You let out a pathetic sob, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you come down from your almost high.

“Ooh... So close.” Bakugo mocked. “What’s the matter? I thought this is what you wanted. Don’t tell me your punishment’s too much for you.” You shake your head no, the only thing you have the strength to muster as you pant and rub your thighs together to start up your high again.

He lets your hands go and stands you up to bend you over the desk, your wobbly legs barely able to keep you stable as you stumble around. Bakugo chuckled darkly at the state of you, almost ready to ruin you completely over and over again to get you off his back for long enough to get some work done.

“You know what’s coming next, hm?” Bakugo asked lowly, sending convulsions into your pussy at the thought of what he was about to do.

“N-No daddy p-please don’t.” You beg. He was about to spank you, enough times to make up for all the punishments you’ve missed. You whimper as you feel a sharp strike against your ass, the sting fading into delicious pleasure as your slick dripped down your thighs.

“Count.” Bakugo demands, striking you again causing you to yelp and whine for him to stop. “I said count. Not beg. You get two extra for that.”

“Th-Th-Three!” You squeal as he strikes you again. At this point you’re drenched and regretting even pulling this stunt on your husband, forgetting all about all the things you’ve been doing to him to tease and piss him off.

Smack after smack almost sent you into orbit as your eyes rolled to the back of your head with each hit. You huff as you reach the last hit, your pussy clenching around nothing as you hold yourself back from cumming.

“Th-thirteen-fuck! Thirteen.” You whine, your head burried into your arms as you sob. Bakugo was laughing at you the entire beating, loving the way your body jolted with every blow he delivered to your juicy ass. He was hard as a rock at this point and really wanted to fuck you into oblivion.

“Hm.. I think you’ve learned your lesson. Whatddaya think, princess?” Bakugo asked rubbing circles into your sore ass cheeks.

“Yes! God yes please fuck me, Daddy. I need youu. I’ll be good I promise I won’t bother you anymor-“ You ramble, whining and begging until Katsuki shut you up with a nice filling. Your pussy deliciously stretched to accommodate his impressive size, sobbing into your hands as you cover your face.

You’re so happy your husband was filling you to the brim that your eyes start to tear up, the feeling of his dick kissing your cervix enough to make you clench around him bliss. You let out loud high pitched moans along with frantic thank yous and I love yous as Bakugo ruts into you like a bat outta hell.

“Ya like that? Huh, baby? I know you fuckin’ do, ya little whore.” Bakugo hissed into your ear, already knowing the answer as you babble nonsense into the desk. “That’s right baby take me. Hah, you feel so fucking good right now.” Fuck he was killing you, but it felt so good. Bakugo was fucking you so hard you could hardly keep up with his pace, holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life as he pounded your poor pussy. White lights flash behind your eyes as you come close to cumming for the second time, this time harder than the last. You try and as permission instead coming out as a bumbling mess unable to even form a coherent sentence as Bakugo fucked you into euphoria.

“I-I’m g-gonna- Hah! Ughhhn, sh-shittt- ah! D-d-d-daddyyyy!” you whine

“I can tell you’re close. My poor stupid baby can’t even tell me she’s about to cum for me.” Bakugo said, rutting into at a sudden sloppy pace as he comes close to his own release. You loved his last few thrusts before he came, cumming way before he does from the feeling of his cock throbbing profusely inside you.

You’re a screaming spectical now, your spongy walls clamping down on your husband’s big fat cock, Bakugo cooing praises into your ear as he came hot inside you right after you from the feeling of your tightness. You seemed to milk him for everything he had, Bakugo slowly pulling out after fucking his seed into you to watch his seed spill out of your used up pussy with glee. Bakugo smacks your ass one last time and pulled his pants back up, you still unable to move from the desk as he led you to the bathroom to get you to clean up.

“Ya happy now?” Bakugo said starting your bath as you sat on the edge of the tub. You nod, still hazy and drunk off Bakugo’s dick. He kissed your forehead and ran back to the office after hearing his skype going off. You giggle and wait for the bath to fill, deeply madly and truly in love with the man who just demolished you.

“Oi! Don’t let the water overflow, you idiot!”