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#and she doesn't have full control over her body
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Cost of Living Pressures...
Anywhere you turn right now, you can't escape the growing public discourse around the ongoing cost-of-living pressures many parts of the world are facing. In many developing countries this has been prevalent for a while now but when it starts to affect people in lucky first world countries, everyone talks about it. And the more I hear discussion about it the more I can't shake that deep tingling arousal I feel...
We get so far behind on our rent that my husband sends me down to our landlord's unit to ask for rent relief. Our landlord is a cruel, ugly man (both inside and out). He ruthlessly uses my vulnerability to make me his cheap whore. He makes me strip naked and crawl to him... then places his shoe on my face while he makes me beg him to defer our rent. He belts me, chokes me, slaps me... and makes me keep begging him as he r4pes me pumping me full of his cum. Then he makes me go back up to my husband naked, bruised and leaking his cum from my pussy. From that day on, I am his whore at any hour of day or night when I am home... I am summoned to choke on his cock on demand, offering all of my holes for his amusement, serving him and his horrible friends as his maid and then being gang r4ped by them as their release and entertainment...
It doesn't get any better at work. I desperately need to keep my job and my Boss knows this. She is a conniving dominant dyke who has always wanted to control me and now she knows she has me at her mercy. She berates me in front of everyone and mercilessly r4pes me in her office. For fun, she makes me available to her mates (both male and female) who use me at will, sadistically beating me, fucking me and degrading me. I come home exhausted and pray that my landlord does not want to use me at least for a few hours...
With both work and home becoming quagmires of sexual slavery for me, my only respite remains is the comfort of my husband's arms. In his love I hope to find some solace and the strength to continue being abvsed like this. Alas, he feels terribly emasculated from all that is going on. His feelings of inadequacy manifest themselves in him taking out his anger, frustration, helplessness and ineptitude on me. Seeing me marked, bruised and dishevelled with cum and spit stains all over my face, body and between my legs makes him both angry and horny. He slaps and degrades me, not letting me shower and wash my r4pe off me. He ties me up and fucks me in that filthy state - smelling of sperm, spit and sweat. Then as his sperm drips down my legs, he makes me do the housework, cooking and cleaning for him...
Who ever said that suffering the cost of living pressures did not lead to have some benefits?!!!
Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
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live-laugh-lenney · 3 days
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Headcannons for willNE in bed?? 🤭🤭👀👀
sooo... you girlies wanted will content so here you go! i think i may need to do more because, damn, this got my willne feels back in full swing...
-> he worships his partner.
-> he thrives off of giving pleasure to his partner more than receiving it himself and he won't stop pleasing her until he's told to stop. until he hears the words roll of her tongue, he would offer to go all night if it was something she wanted.
-> he never shies away from foreplay; in fact, it's his favourite part of being intimate in bed with her.
-> of course, he would be a fool to say he wasn't a huge fan and he loves foreplay on himself and he completely melts under her touch when she initiates. the feeling of her hands roaming his body, the way her fingers curl around him, the way her tongue feels against his skin, the way she covers his skin in kisses and leaves her mark behind... he loves it.
-> but he's always eager to have her sitting on his face. whether she rides his tongue from above or whether he devours her from between her thighs, he doesn't care how it happens... he just wants the taste of her on his tongue.
-> his favourite position has to be between her legs when they're over his shoulders, knees locking either side of his head, keeping him from going anywhere... not that he'd ever find himself backing away from her. her fingers twisting in his hair, pulling and tugging when he hits the right spots, heels digging into his back.
-> he savours every second and every sound; from the feeling of every movement to the way she feels around his fingers to the way she tenses around his cock to the way every gentle motion of his hips has her moaning and writhing in pleasure.
-> he's not selfish either and he listens to her and what she begs for and he tries his best to divulge her wishes.
-> he loves her on top when it comes to sex.
-> his hands hold her hips as she rides him, slapping at the flesh of her bum when he feels like she needs a tiny bit encouragement to keep going, getting to watch her as she takes control of the pace, the way her face twists with pleasure, fingers digging into his chest and leaving behind tiny indents. a front row view of her satisfaction.
-> and even though he's absolutely ravenous for her in the moment, he's so gentle when it comes to aftercare. treating her like a princess, especially if she's been in control for the most of it, just to show his appreciation for her and how much he really loves her. xx
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sgterso · 11 months
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this is a private headcanon i've had for awhile and i've decided to bite the bullet and finally post it ( and hopefully tag it correctly )
given the opportunity during her time in the partisans or soon after, jyn likely would have medically ensured that she wouldn't be able to have children. i'm not going to go into too much detail because this might be triggering but basically, in any verse where this is possible, she doesn't want biological children or to get pregnant, so she ensures that it won't happen. this is a consensual decision and one she doesn't regret over the course of her lifetime. despite that, in any sexual encounters, she does always use proper contraception.
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mommypieck · 7 months
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𑄽୧ mommy kink with satoru 𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 11: needy boy!!!
✿ gojo satoru x reader
✿ warnings: mommy kink, breeding kink, p in v, baby trapping, rough
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"She's beautiful," you say when Shoko places her daughter in your arms. It's true, her baby is the prettiest you've ever seen. You sit her on your lap, explaining little things to her. You can feel your boyfriend's eyes on her.
"What?" you ask him as the baby sucks on your thumb. He just shakes his head, muttering a little "Nothing."
The rest of the night goes smoothly except for the bubbly boyfriend being so quiet. Every time you're out in public, he's usually the life of the party, being the loudest in the room.
"What's wrong?" you ask him on the way home, but he shrugs you off.
"Are you jealous?" you continue with the questions. Your boyfriend gets rarely jealous, but you know that when he does, he doesn't hold back.
"I just find it interesting how well you play Mommy," he says, the last word rolling against his tongue sweetly. You don't understand what he's talking about, maybe he's jealous of a baby?
"She's just so cute." you sigh, looking down at your lap. You and Gojo both agreed that you're too young to have kids, but today you felt like a part of you got complete by holding the baby.
"Let's go to the bedroom." he encourages you as he parks the car. The atmosphere is still weird, but it's better than on the ride home. You climb up the stairs, Gojo right behind you. You don't even have the chance to close the door before he attacks you with kisses.
"So what's what it was all about? You being horny?" you ask him in between laughs and kisses. He doesn't respond, instead, he tugs on your dress, pulling it off your body. He's quick to take his own clothing off you, throwing you on the bed.
He usually takes some time to suck on your boobs or eat you out, but this time, he sticks his fingers right inside of you. And hell, he's so good at that. His palm is pressed against your clit, making the pleasure even more intense.
"How about we stretch this pussy out, mommy?" he smirks, his fingers working magic inside your little pussy. He knows exactly where to hit and rub to make a complete mess out of you. Your pussy produces more juices with every passing second, and you're not sure if it's because of his abilities or because of the name he calls you. You notice his other hand is rubbing his hard-on as he does his magic to your body.
"Please, I know you want it too," you beg, reaching to put your hand over his to touch his cock. he hisses but pulls your hand away.
Satoru finally knees in between your legs, his cock in his hand. He rubs his cock up and down your folds, teasing you until you are begging him to finally put it in. It's lovely how he doesn't have to use lube to slide inside of you so easily. You let a satisfied moan when he bottoms out. The feeling of being full is so calming.
But Gojo is not having any second of your relaxing as he slams his cock inside of you - hard. He pulls it out until the only tip is inside of you before slamming back in. He takes his time with his thrusts and you know it's because he's a little shit.
"Satoru, come on," you whine, digging your legs into his back to urge him to fuck you. He laughs, not caring about what you have to say.
"What did you say, mommy? you want me to fuck you."
Yes, you want to scream out. You want him to move inside of you. to completely wreck you.
As if he heard your thoughts, he finally moves inside you, ramming his way through your pussy. He's rough, but he knows what he's doing. You let your head fall on the mattress, finally satisfied from all of the teasing.
"Mommy, feels good? Doesn't she?" you whisper at his words, you feel like you're about to cum just from his calling you that.
"I'm gonna give you a baby tonight." he moans, hiking your legs higher on his back to hold you in half. Your brain stops for a second. Is he serious? Does he want kids? You're still on birth control, but it's Gojo, and his swimmers are skilled.
He kisses you on the lips, telling you how much he wants to get you pregnant.
"Please, mommy, get off birth control. Let's make sure you get pregnant." he pleads, his tongue sloppily meeting yours.
You're so close to your release that it would take one word from him to make you fall apart - completely. He's close too, cursing and almost shaking inside of you.
"Im gonna cum, baby. I'm gonna cum so much, mommy," he says and with one hard thrust, he cums right into your womb. The feeling of his filling you up sets you off the edge, and you cum with him, clenching around his cock and making him whine.
"Take all I have to give you, Mommy." his cum still shooting inside you. You're sure he came the hardest in his entire life. He tries to pull out of you, but his cum spills right on the bed, so he pushes back in.
You're both overstimulated, but it's also so intimate. He shuffles so you can lie comfortably with his cock still inside you. He stores your hair, telling you how great you did.
"Did you mean it? When you said you want kids?" you ask him, and you're surprised when he turns dark red.
"Yeah, I want kids. It will be awkward for them to call you mommy now."
taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaennii
Yeah, it sure will be.
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@satorustar @balenciagarette
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annabelle--cane · 5 months
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this is a difficult thing to have conversations about because it provokes really strong reactions in people for completely valid and understandable reasons, so please feel free to hit da bricks on this post whenever you want, but I do want to try and analyse the jonmartin slaps. we get three across 160, 169, and 172, and a line addressing it in 173, and then it never happens or comes up again. none of them come out of nowhere, and they mostly fly under the radar until 173 because they all broadly fit the "slapping someone out of a trance in an emergency" trope, but each of them slowly decreases in urgency.
the first time, the apocalypse starts up and martin comes back to find a passed out jon, can't wake him by making noise, and strikes him in a panic. this makes sense, this is a man who has entered a supernatural coma before and martin had no idea what was going on, so of course he'd jump to something desperate.
the second time, they're in a burning building, jude arrives while jon is still mid-statement, and when making noise doesn't work martin slaps him out of it. this makes sense, they were there for jude and if jon didn't come back to himself then she likely would have hurt them, though martin knew that her powers against them were limited.
the third time, jon is getting pulled into into a repeating statement instead of coming out on his own like usual, so martin speaks once or twice to try and get his attention, and then slaps him out of it. this... again, it makes sense, jon was getting trapped, but there was no immediate peril like before, martin just got freaked out and wanted to leave quickly. he seems to get that it was harsh because he apologizes for it, but they don't linger at all, martin just starts in on them having to leave immediately.
the last time it's mentioned is when they're on night street, during what is one of their most intense arguments. jon tries to talk about the suffering of the children there for longer than he needs to in order to make a point, martin cuts him off, and he pointedly says, "thank you for not hitting me this time." it never happens or is brought up again.
to our knowledge, jon doesn't say anything about the slapping until 173. he's not a guy who's known for speaking up when things upset him, he was amiably working with daisy within about a week of her trying to kill him, so it makes sense that he would just sit with this comparatively more minor thing. however, I do think it's relevant to note that, at this point in their relationship, martin will sometimes voice his feelings and boundaries (not listening to statements, not consenting to mind reading, worrying when jon expresses discomfort with his body), while jon doesn't. from the couple of times he does talk about his feelings this season, I think that tendency comes a few places: he has a hard time being aware of his emotions at all, he doesn't know how to evaluate his emotions' importance in comparison to others', he assumes his emotions are obvious and thus people already act with full knowledge of them, and the topic is just hard to make himself talk about. from what he says in 173, I think the slaps bothered him the entire time, but he made himself be fine with it until he was upset with martin for unrelated reasons and finally let it out.
as for martin's side, I do not think the slaps came from any kind of suppressed desire to hurt or wield power over jon. we've seen him when he's angry at jon, this isn't how he acts, he gets shouty and indignant but never violent. I'd even go as far as to say he doesn't do it in 173 because he's genuinely upset at jon and the situation they're in, and it would never occur to him to deliberately inflict pain on someone he cares about to assert control over them. the connecting line between all of them is fear from something that he wants jon to help him handle. the apocalypse starts, he is stuck inside one of his worst nightmares, and he's paranoid that the web took control of him. he's someone who is "always following, never leading" (170), and he gets tunnel vision when something scares him and his "leader" isn't there.
jon did need to be pulled out of all three of those situations, and words proved insufficient, and maybe a quick jolt of pain was the only thing that could have worked, but martin doesn't seem to consider what that would feel like from jon's pov. in my experience of relationships, if there's ever an unavoidable emergency where you do actually need to cross a line that you never would otherwise, you talk about it afterwards. you do a debrief where you say "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see another way, I'll try and be better prepared next time." they do this for problems they have later on (177, 198), but martin doesn't do that here. jon's point-of-view just doesn't seem to occur to him. when jon expresses discomfort, he drops the tactic without a word; later, when he needs to anchor jon in the panopticon, he talks him through it before it can get too far. so, it's not about a lack of care for jon's feelings.
I think it comes down to a few things: a) his occasional tendency to treat people as a means to an ends and not think about their perspective. he's so glued to putting others first most of the time that when he stops, he can't find a middle ground and forgets that other people can have feelings about his actions. b) his problems with conceiving of himself as a person of any importance who is capable of doing anything, especially of doing harm. as a concept, "hurting jon" is the thing he would least like to do in the whole world, it is his nightmare scenario and literally the culminating moment of his tragedy. he finds it almost unthinkable, so the idea that he does it casually when he's scared doesn't cross his mind. one of his central worries at this point is that jon is now so powerful that he no longer needs martin, how could he hurt someone like that? he's not anywhere near a comparable level of importance, it's not like he has his own domain that he's not aware of because jon told him about it and he immediately rejected the information. he's powerless and could never bring himself to hurt the man he loves.
I just. think it's an interesting microcosm of some of the lows of their relationship. once the problem is discovered martin instantly takes the note and doesn't put it on jon to explain himself further or assuage his guilt, they are willing and able to adapt, but it still comes from some of their bedrock flaws. martin doesn't understand that he can hurt people, and jon has such an inflated understanding of his capacity to hurt people that it sabotages his self-worth and his ability to respond to pain and displeasure.
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nohoney · 18 days
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us series! reader has gotten a little lazy at riding, so keigo and touya decide to fix that (*/ω\)
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“You’re spoiling her, you know?” Touya points out one day as he and Keigo grocery shop together, “She’s getting all princess-y ‘cause of you.”
Amber eyes gloss over the selection of bread in the aisle, looking for a particular brioche that he’s been craving for the last week. The bread is found and placed into the cart, Keigo walking ahead for the next thing on the list they need to get. “I don’t know what you mean. I think we’ve been waiting hand and foot for her this entire time.”
It’s not really unusual for you to be used to the princess treatment, not really needing to get up if you need or want something for yourself.
“That’s not what I meant.” Touya sighs as he pushes the cart and lets the blond decide what’s needed for their purchases. “She’s not riding dick like she used to. It’s because when she’s on top of you, you’re doing all the work from the bottom. I’ve noticed it the last three times.”
“Okay, and? What does how we fuck have to do with how you fuck?” Keigo glances back at Touya briefly as he continues to walk towards the next aisle, “If she’s getting lazy with you, you know what to do with her.”
Opting to fuck around, the cart gets pushed into Keigo’s backside and the metal is noisy from the impact.
“You need to do it, you’re the one making her lazy when she’s on top.”
“It should occur to you that I fuck her the way I do is because I enjoy it. I like putting in the work.” Keigo points out, dropping the subject and flipping off Touya for being a menace with the cart. He really doesn't think anything of what was brought up and continues on normally.
But the point comes up in his mind the next time Keigo has sex with you. How he ended up just fucking you from the bottom, keeping your body pressed down to him and thrusting up into your pussy that he just can’t get enough of. And there’s no fight from you to try to take control of riding him. You used to sometimes at least attempt to be the one to take reigns and he’d entertain it before fucking you the way he wants.
He cums in you, your body relaxing against his and it’s like you melted. Keigo moves you like a rag doll, rolling you over to lie back on the bed so that he can fetch a towel and clean himself up. “So good Keigo… so good…” you mutter, leaning back into the pillows and reaching for your phone to start scrolling on your social media.
Not even a thank you for the dicking down you just got—Touya was right.
You are getting spoiled.
Keigo is a bit more gracious when he’s proven to be in the wrong. He goes to Touya says the magic words, “You were right, she doesn’t put in the work anymore.”
Blue eyes are full of mirth when Keigo comes with the admission, already knowing exactly what they’re going to do so that you learn a little lesson. Not that he doesn’t like spoiling you but even you are expected to put in a little bit of effort here and there. And if you’re not gonna do it willingly—
They’re just gonna make you.
“Get on Kei’s dick baby, wanna see you with him.” Touya mutters against your lips, letting you taste your own pussy after he had eaten you out. You’re eager for more kisses from him, almost too lost in the affection before he spanks your ass and directs to the blond laying back on the bed.
Crawling over to Keigo, you hold his cock as you slowly slip it in you. You let out a small gasp, the stretch of him entering you is always pleasant and when he’s fully sheathed inside, you get a dreamy smile on your face. You start to lean down to him, having gotten used to Keigo hugging you back when you move in that motion and you expect him to put in the work of fucking you that he’s been doing the last few times.
So you’re surprised when you’re pushed back by Keigo and surprised again when Touya grabs a fistful of your hair and cranes your neck back. You whimper, being unable to speak a word from the position your first boyfriend has got you in. Only little sounds are the best you can muster as you wonder what’s in store for you.
“Ride him, you’re putting in the work today.” Touya tells you, releasing your hair and spanks your ass hard that makes you yelp. It wasn’t a playful smack either—it was meant to hurt you a little.
Keigo is usually nice when Touya is mean. A comforting hand smooths over the area you were struck, his touch is soft and his gaze is soft too when you look down at him. His hand lifts and strikes you in the same spot Touya did with just as much strength.
“Agh! Hurts!” You whimper and you look down expecting to get a bit of mercy from the blond, but he’s shaking his head and tutting at you.
“You heard him baby, ride me. You can do it, yeah?” Keigo’s voice is sweet, gentle, but the hand smoothing over the spot you were hit has you a little tense. “Yeah baby bird?”
They’re being mean to you together.
You hadn’t even realized how lazy you had been lately when it comes to being on top. Keigo was having fun being the one to do it all for you whenever he had you like this so you had gotten used to it. So you think that acting a little pitiful will earn you some kindness, maybe even make the boys feel bad.
Touya doesn’t have it with you, making you assume the position as he tells you firmly, “Ride him.”
With your hands placed on either side of Keigo’s head, you clench your hands and groan unhappily. You know better than to argue back though. So you move your hips, fucking Keigo’s cock into you for the first time in a while. It feels good, it does feel good, but you don’t have the stamina that you used to.
“Tired, ‘m tired!” you whine, “Please Kei, please just do it for me?”
Touya wasted no time in spanking you again, harder than he did last time. Keigo delivers one too that’s just as mean.
“I said ride him, that was barely even five minutes.” Touya admonishes you, “C’mon brat.”
“I can’t!” you whine petulantly and pout back at Touya.
“You don’t ride him, I’m gonna lift you off his cock and you’re not gonna get fucked by either of us until you actually put in some effort.”
The threat actually makes you mildly panic, looking down at Keigo to see if they actually mean it. They wouldn’t do that, right? They’re not just gonna hold out on you all because of this, right? Right?
Keigo thrusts up once, reaching one hand up to cup your jaw in his hand. He holds you gently but firmly, his voice reflecting the tender way he touches you, “Ride me, you can do it.”
You hesitate, a noncommittal sound hummed out.
This time Keigo is the first to hit your ass and then he gestures to Touya. “Alright, take her off me. She doesn’t want to.”
You feel Touya’s hands go underneath your armpits as if you to lift you up, but you shake him off and hastily speak out, “No! No, I’ll ride Keigo! I’m sorry, I will!” So you assume the position again, moving your hips in the motion that you know how to do but no longer have the stamina for. And what’s worse is that they’re not praising you—they’re still bullying you!
“You’re such a brat, fucking ungrateful. Keigo does all the work for you all the time and that’s the best you can give him?” Touya sneers at you.
“It hasn’t even been that long and you’re that tired already? Everything I do for you and you can’t at least give me half the effort. Lazy little slut.” Keigo sighs in disappointment.
Tears prick at your eyes, sniffling a little but you know better than to stop. Even the grinding you’re doing is at least something but it’s just not enough. You want Keigo to hold you down and use you. You want him to do what he does best and just fuck you until you’re stupid.
“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry!” You whine. So you muster up what little energy you have and do your best to ride Keigo until he cums. It doesn’t matter if you do at this point. What’s important is focusing everything on him. He’s good to you, so so good to you and he deserves to sit back and relax while you show him that you’re willing to meet him halfway.
Your thighs burns as you bounce up and down on Keigo’s cock, your breath is shaky and you want to collapse. But you can’t stop until he’s happy, not until he decides that you’ve done a good enough job. No asking for help from Touya either—you know that this was his idea to do this to you.
“You want Keigo to cum in you, doll?” Touya turns your head to look at him, “Think you deserve it?”
You have to be careful with your words. If you eagerly agree, they could still bully you for being desperate and still only thinking of yourself.
“Whatever Keigo wants. I want to do what he wants.” you manage to speak out and hope it was the right thing to say.
Keigo seems to be satisfied with your words. “Then make me cum.”
It disappoints you a little that he won’t take over but you should know better because Touya is here as well. Maybe if it was just the two of you, Keigo wouldn’t have been as influenced to be as mean. But still you love them and a small part of you loves when they are mean. It can be frustrating when you’re ganged up on but you also know what kind of treatment you’ll get afterwards.
This will be worth it.
You ride Keigo as hard as you can, concentrating with all the effort you have left to focus on him. Touya’s at least kind enough to play with your clit, giving you a little something in return for saying and doing the right thing.
Keigo’s eyebrows start to knit together and you recognize the expression he makes, noticing how he grabs at your hips and his body starts to flex. His muscles and his chest, they get more defined as his body tenses underneath you. So with the last shreds of strength you have left, you fuck Keigo until his eyes start to roll back and he’s gasping for breath.
Then you remember how exhilarating it is to be on top and to watch him unfold beneath you. Even when you know he’s finished cumming inside you, now all of a sudden you just can’t stop. Keigo is the one babbling as you overstimulate him, nonsensical words that can barely be strung together to form a sentence.
“Good girl.”
Touya is the one to lift you off Keigo, immediately setting you onto the bed and pushing your legs open. You and Keigo are catching your breath together, whimpering when Touya shoves two fingers into your pussy. The pads of his fingers stroke inside you and your body writhes a little, but you know to not try to push Touya away.
He likes this.
He’s obsessed with you having Keigo’s cum in you.
“Good girl,” he repeats after he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, “what do you say?”
“Thank you for teaching me a lesson.” You whisper and you’re relieved when you’re rewarded with a forehead kiss. This is the best part of your boys being mean to you—they’ll be so nice afterwards. They coddle and adore you, shoving their tongues into your mouth for sloppy kisses before doting on you.
Keigo holds you in his arms, muttering little praises along the crown of your hairline.
Touya massages your legs and thighs, his hands comforting and relaxing. But he doesn’t let you forget the lesson he put on you today, “Next time when either of us say that you need to put in some work, what do you?”
“I’ll listen,” you answer, “I won’t complain.”
“Good.”
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katsukikitten · 18 days
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Mentions of children and a baby, fluffy and then angst. MDNI
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Katsuki wakes up to the sound of laughter, soft giggling before two small bodies crawl into the oversized bed.
"Daddy!" They whisper, or what they call a whisper, having not learned the subtleness of it yet. More of a hushed yell of his title as little hands slap across his bare skin, "Daddy wake up!"
He scoops them to him, pressing them against his scarred chest with a grunt before his eyes flutter open, by the sun alone he can tell it's barely seven am. A glance at his clock confirms it and the kids squeal from how he squeezes them to him. He's barely gotten an hour and a half of sleep and when he glances over his shoulder he sees that you're still in bed, he wonders if it was a late night for you too. You were texting him late last night although that was normal for you, Katsuki still wonders if the newest edition to the family was the cause of your unrest.
Katsuki thinks he can pin his twin boys to him and lull them to sleep for another hour or so, he's done it before but their giggles say otherwise.
"Grandma is comin today to see sissy!" Their hushed yell too loud for Katsuki's liking, at least while you and baby try to sleep. Little hands pressing at his chest and setting off little popping explosions that earn them a fatherly glare although Katsuki was sure yours was sharper than his somehow.
It's befitting that he'd have two little hellions just like himself, a "double curse" his ma has teased about your whole pregnancy but she quietly whispered to Katsuki after she first met the twins, "You were easy to raise."
And the youngest Bakugou, his baby girl, took after you. All of her features a carbon copy of you just as his boys were the spitting image of him.
"We wanna tell her we helped with breakfast!" They're pushing again, although this time without their explosions after the warning glare from their father.
"You'll wake yer mother and yer sister." He grunts, but presses kisses to their faces that they giggle about, "Wait in the kitchen for me yea? But do not touch that stove."
"Okay daddy!" Their "whispers" lost and a full on yell before their eyes widen from their mistake, Katsuki and the boys holding their breath only for the baby to coo and you to let out a sleepy "Hmm?'
Katsuki knows that you can still fall asleep, that you'd have risen if you were more awake so that he could sleep but he's up now and he doesn't mind. He's glad the boys have listened to him that yes, momma is a super woman but that daddy can help them too.
And Katsuki cannot say he isn't proud that the boys love to cook with him.
After the coast is clear he sends them on their way with a playful swat to their butts that they giggle about, always rough housing those two. Encouraged of course by Bakugou but when it comes to the baby their hands shake with a little nervousness asking for gloves because they know their quirk could hurt their baby sister and that they are not in control of their gift yet.
Katsuki rises enough to sit on the side of the bed in nothing but his boxers, chest and half of his face scarred from a tale long ago that his kids beg for the story but he never tells. Not yet anyway. Rubbing his large palms across his handsome features, bromine eyes softened to candied apples thanks to his family. Ash blonde stubble looking more grey and crows feet next to his shining eyes.
He yawns, hears his boys giggle as they try to get the usual stuff for pancakes. One helping the other to climb the counter in order to reach the pancake mix and they're good boys. They don't touch the stove while they wait.
Katsuki rises fully now, grabbing a shirt from the clean hamper and sliding it on. Coming over to your side of the bed to look at you. Sleeping soundly and when he spies the bags under your eyes being kissed by your long lashes, he's more than thankful the boys woke him up instead. He leans over, kisses your temple softly, runs his hand feather light over your arm before his cooing baby girl. Talking to herself softly as she stares up at the ceiling, arms moving here and there but nothing too excitable.
And then she sees her father and her face lights up, pure joy just like when she sees her mom. Not fully Katsuki knows this but maybe it's even better to know that his baby girl still knows that these blurry shapes are him. Her cooing and babble louder now, excited as she reaches up for him and he gives a big smile pulling her up to press her into his arms.
"Good morning sweetheart." He coos back, a kiss to her wispy hairline. Softly shutting the door as he takes her to her room, passing by his boys and shutting the door to each. You insisted they should have separate rooms that you didn't want the twins to feel like one person and although they both had "sleep overs" often, they loved their own space as well.
"Boys you'll have to pick up yer rooms a bit before grams gets here." He says to them as he walks down the hall after baby girl has a fresh diaper and outfit, at least for now.
"Even though she doesn't go in there."
"Yea grams never sees our room unless we show her!'
"Mmhmm even though she doesn't go in there. It's still nice to have a straightened room ain't it?" Katsuki looks to them as they play in the water more than they wash their hands.
The morning is easy somehow and Katsuki is so so thankful he waited as long as he did to have kids. He's much more mellow now, can do more of the gentle parenting shit the baby books talked about. And yes his mother yelled at him often and he knows his ma loves him, he just doesn't want that for his kids. And yea he does yell sometimes, gets frustrated or blows up, they're two six year olds with big ass feelings and little bodies.
But he always apologizes
You taught him that and if you couldn't collect yourself either you always pointed out it isn't kind to yell, apologized and explained your own big feelings. Plus when you had the right partner parenting could be easy, it could be a lot of fucking fun. At least that's what Bakugou has always thought.
He supports you and he listened to his Ma the first time when Mitsuki said you weren't going to ask for help and that Katsuki needed to step up. So he'd take turns before you become exhausted and burned out, he split chores or took on more when you couldn't. And as always you did the same for him.
Now is just one of those weird times where you both are exhausted and trying your best to work with the schedule you have but Katsuki thinks you need a little more rest than him even if you've been home. Even if you can send the boys to grams or your own parents or to their cousins house for a sleepover, you still deserve rest because at the end of the day no matter how much he could step up kids will always want their moms first.
"Katsuki." You call gently from the hall as the boys bounce around while a TV show plays on low, their giggling hushed while Katsuki "spoils" the baby and keeps her held to him.
"Ah did we wake ya?"
"MOM WE HELPED WITH PANCAKES!" They scream excitedly, rushing to their half asleep mom to cling to your legs. Chattering away about how they helped with everything even dishes. How yours is in the microwave and how daddy said he'd heat them up. You respond, brushing your hands over their little skulls, pushing down their hair and they hum on.
"You came home late, you should have woken me up." You say softly, barely enough time to get ready before Mitsuki was due here in less than twenty minutes.
"Haaah? And let you hog all this to yerself?" He gestures to the living room where it looks as if a bomb went off, toys, stuffed animals and blankets scattered about that you and Katsuki would have to sing the clean up song just to have it all put away. Mostly anyway, it'd all come out again as they showed their grams and gramps their collection.
You laugh loudly, god damn does he love that sound. Loves that it echoes in his own chest enough to make him smirk or chuckle. Watches you come closer to kiss the babies forehead from over the back of the couch before kissing him on the lips.
The boys of course erupt in a chorus of EWS before they're getting a look from you both. This was definitely still a lightly teasing household.
"Go get ready. The number one hero can handle this." He leans up for another kiss that you give him of course, your once sharp claws now rounded to soft nails scratch at his scruff.
"Kay."
You're out of the shower and dressed without a second to spare, the doorbell rings. The boys wait impatiently to see if it's okay to answer the door, hopping up and down because they were never allowed to swing it open even if they were expecting someone. When Katsuki confirms on the door bell camera it's his mother, he rises to stand at the door to open it.
Sunlight bleeds in, obstructs the view of his mother for a moment
And then Katsuki wakes up.
His alarm blaring from his bedside table making his heart race with adrenaline, his palm poised and ready. Glowing a deep orange as he collects himself a moment. Growling as he smashes another phone turning to stare at the ceiling. He dares not reach out to your side of the bed even though he knows what he'll find.
Still, his curious, masochist palms reach out to find cool sheets. Sheets on your side of the bed that haven't been warmed for over two years, why would they?
No giggling laughter can be heard in the home, no cooing little girl he can greet with a smile after a hard ass night at work because the four of you made it worth it over and over again.
No visit from his ma on his rare few days off because there was no laughter, no cooing, and there may never be.
There never was because you left him two years ago. Left his sheets cool, the house he bought for his future family frigid in your absence no matter how high he turned up the heat or let the sun bleed into his home.
He couldn't even call it a home, homes were warm, joyful, this?
Well this was just another roof over his head, a bed to sleep in, a fridge to hold milk for his protein shakes.
Nothing for bacon and eggs or pancakes. Nothing for formula in the little bottles that were set out on the grass looking drying rack he'd tell his sons not to play with.
Katsuki rises enough to sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing his handsome features with big palms. Fingers lingering over scars from a tale long ago but with no sons to beg for the story.
He hardly has the strength to rise from the bed as he comes to terms that all it ever was and all that his two sons and daughter that he saw so vividly, ever will be
Was a dream.
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
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Cave boy Danny just casually mentioning things that correspond with Bruce, like the time he stole an experimental power suit and shot a god corresponding with Bruce shooting Darkseid or the Infi-map being like the time Bruce was lost in the time stream, and the bats wondering how this kid can remain a civilian
Danny tried his best to not blink too quickly, as it may cause the stranger to shoot him. He honestly has no idea how he ended up here, but somehow, he was taken hostage alongside a bus full of people on his way to buy some chips.
He got tired of Alfred's instance to ban all junk food from the manor and had snuck out while the Wyanes had been busy going over plans for some big showdown with a guy named Scarecrow.
Danny doesn't know who that is and doesn't care to find out. The less he knows, the less likely he will have to deal with rouge. He's on vacation, dang it.
Or he was until the bus was taken over by a group of men wearing gas masks. They forced their way onto the bus when they stopped for some passengers, forcing the driver at gunpoint to drive them off course, and now they were heading to a wear house. People were crying, but Danny felt like screaming.
He just wanted spicy chips, and- maybe if he had the time- he would swing by the old junkyard to find a steering wheel for his ship! Fenton luck strikes again, it seemed.
"I wouldn't be so smug, Kane," One of the people in a gas mask shouts at him. He blinks up at the woman pointing her gun at his head but scoffs at her stance. His mother would throw a fit if Danny or Jazz ever placed their feet so off balance like that while wielding a weapon. "Once Dr.Crane is done with you-"
"I'm sorry did you just threaten me with myself?" Danny cuts her off. She pauses seemingly thrown before she sputters.
"No- not Kane, Crane."
He blinks at her. "You just said the same thing"
"C-R-A-N-E." She spells in a huff.
"Ohhhhh. Sorry, the mask makes it hard to understand you. Okay, so where were you? Dr. Crane is going to do what with me-?" Danny asks, leaning back in his seat, and waving his hand at her.
There is a moment of silence before she hits him across the face with her gun. "Don't you mock me!"
"Ow." He deadpans, rubbing at his cheek, and wonders if it was supposed to hurt. His healing had vanished the pain before her gun left his skin. "I thought we were having a conversation, but forgive me, I had no idea you had an inferiority complex and assumed everyone was mocking you. Let me guess, no one has ever told you they are proud of you, and now you are defensive of every action you take because-"
"Shut up!" His voice wobbles and Danny knows he hit the nail on the head.
"Does it keep you up at night? Does it freak you out that everyone can see your issues on your face as bright as day? I bet it does it. Bet it causes you to cry like a sad little confused kid who still can't figure out how to ask for help." He doesn't mock. He states it as fact because that is what it was. Fact. She does break down about it; he can tell by her reaction, and his tone makes it all the harder to swallow.
"I'll kill you!"
"Do it." He smiles. "Saves me from your boss. But will that keep you safe? Let's find out! How long will it be before he breaks you down? Ten, maybe fifteen minutes? And he will break you; you know he will. He's already halfway there."
"I-" She stumbles away from him. He doesn't have to see her face to know it's gone pale. Ha.
One of her crew hits her shoulder, having heard him speaking while the rest of the bus stares. "Stop letting him into your head!"
"Oh, what's your name?" Danny asks, blinking his large blue eyes at the man, watching his body language for clues. His eyes zero in on three belts and how they all match up at the buckle despite the fact that they are stacked on top of each other. Didn't Jazz once say that a belt with that much control hinted about attention to detail?
Hmm.
"Is the plan falling apart- can you not control it? The way life just moves on without you and that freaks you out doesn't it. The lake of control?" He asks, and the man jerks back. Bingo.
"Holy shit," A teenager whispers in the back horrified. "It's Dr. Crane jr."
"No, that's the Rabid Dog," Another answer. "Heard he made three elites cry after talking to him for more than ten minutes."
Danny is about to open his mouth when suddenly Robin crashes through the front window. Rude. There is glass everywhere now.
Hours later, Alfred franticly checks him over for injuries while the rest are freaking out. Apparently, they had feared to find Danny screaming from terrible visions but instead found him mentally breaking the hired goons with Jazz's training. "It's not like they did anything. I had a harder time stealing a super suit than those fruitloops-"
"You stole a what?" Tim cuts him off, eyes narrowed. Danny shrugs.
"I mean, haven't we all stolen a super suit?"
"Literally, no one here has done that," Steph tells him, and Danny tilts his head.
"You guys must have had boring childhoods. Surely you at least tried to organize your school into a battle-ready militia? No one can finish school without doing that at least once."
Dick raises a hand. "Brucie, how common is this in your world? Because that's alarming."
"All the kids at my school do that. My graduating class has done it three different times back in freshmen year." He shrugs. Cass makes a strange noise in the back of her throat.
"Not a lie. Brucie is strange," She tells the group, and everyone stares in bewilderment at the boy sitting on the medical table, even Bruce.
Danny smiles at them sweetly like he would at Vlad when the fruitloop is over, and he gets his parents to throw him out sooner than he wants to leave. It curves with just the right amount of innocence and mischievous nature that no one can tell if it's a positive or deadly expression.
"You are from a war-torn world?" Damian inquires, fingers under his chin with a frown. "How are you so carefree?"
"Oh no, we haven't had a war in about- eh fifty years? Give or take." He answers and once again Cass confirms the truth of his words.
This does nothing to settle their nerves.
"Every day I learn more about teenage Bruce, and every day I am more unsettled," Jason announces, and the rest of the Bats nod. Danny's smile turns broader and softer. It makes him more attractive but unsettling in a way.
Alfred sighs with a fond smile. "Oh, the memories. Master Bruce used to smile at his dates in the same way. I can picture him taking that sweet girl to the movies as if though it was yesterday."
"Bruce, how in the world did you get people to date you? That's creepy as hell. " Dick accuses the man who only shrugs.
"Oliver once told me it was part of the thrill. The idea that I could kill them."
"Why!?"
"I wish I knew chum."
Danny slips the control into his sleeve- he will rip it apart later for the Bluetooth piece. He will wait till the Waynes are too busy with Bruce's old stories about his first few dates to take apart the fear gas bomb he took from the woman earlier today. Could he use it as a fuel?
He'll have to do some tests.
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pinkie-pop · 3 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel idea: Morningstar! Reader
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel
Reader's design
Link to part I
Haven't you ever wanted to transmigrate into the world of your favorite media? Of course you have! Otherwise, why would you even be here?
It's a story we've all seen before. Someone dies and wakes up in a new, exciting body, in a new, exciting world!
You've seen it all before. But you never thought it could actually happen to you.
There's a baby crying somewhere in the room.
You're staring up at nothing, the most gorgeous chandelier you've ever seen in your life hanging from an unfamiliar ceiling. It takes you a moment to realize it's actually a baby mobile.
What kind of rich freak buys something that elaborate for a baby? You're in a strange place, that's for sure.
The crying gets louder. You reach to cover your ears, only to stop dead in your tracks as you realize just how small you are.
No way...that baby...is it you?
[More under the cut]
So, this is really happening, huh? You've reincarnated (or something) into the body of some (assumedly very) wealthy family's baby.
This.
Fucking.
Rules.
You're no stranger to the transmigration trope, having read countless light novels and webcomics during your time on Earth. You know what to expect—a loving family, beautiful male leads, and more money than you could ever spend. Of course, you'll miss your old life and friends, but honestly, who could turn down a life like this? You were (re)born with a silver spoon, and you plan to take full advantage of it.
The crying gets even louder, and you realize that you're hungry. It's a different kind of hunger than you've ever felt before. It almost...doesn't feel human.
But that's silly, isn't it?
You've been born with a silver spoon, who could ask for more? You will yourself to stop crying, but it only gets louder and louder as the hunger grows.
The door opens, and the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen steps inside. Judging by her attire, she must be someone of high social standing. Is she your mother?
"Aw, hush now little one, Mommy's here," she says, picking you up and rocking you gently. The crying ceases almost immediately, leaving you feeling slightly irritated. How come this woman has more control over your body than you do? You don't have very long to stew in your irritation, however, as the woman pulls out a bottle from seemingly thin air, a dark red liquid gently sloshing around inside.
You're no expert, but you can say with 99% certainty that that isn't milk. You don't know what it is, honestly, but you do know that it's the most appetizing looking thing you've seen in your life.
The woman, your mother, places the bottle to your lips, and you lap it up greedily. "Hungry, are we?" She asks. You obviously don't respond. Even if you could, you're far too focused on drinking down every last drop of whatever is in that bottle to pay any attention to what she's saying.
Finally, your hunger satiated, you finish the bottle. Your mother poofs it out of existence, but you don't have time to think about the potential existence of magic before the door opens again.
"How is our little one?" A male voice (your father, most likely) asks. It sounds familiar, but you can't quite place it.
"They've got quite the healthy appetite," your mother responds, turning to show you to the man.
Your eyes grow as wide as saucers.
Lucifer...?
A/N: I'll write more of this if it gets popular. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist
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schwarzkatje · 17 days
Text
abby x chubby!reader - a very self indulgent scenario
warning: just so you know, this contains obviously mentions of descriptions regarding body parts so if this is a trigger i advise you don't read this.
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i believe abby to be one of those butches who absolutely go feral for fuller, chubbier women.
this goes hand in hand with my previous headcanon/scenario in which i explored abby's breeding kink. because once you gain weight and your breasts gets bigger, your thighs become plushier and your stomach forms that slightly hanging portion of skin adorned in your frilly and feminine dresses, abby is ashamed to admit to even herself the undeniable effect she experiences.
she doubts if what she is doing is really offensive to you because she wonders whether this can fall into the category of objectification. therefore, abby has to mentally remind herself to not be a creep and to divert her gaze from you.
her thoughts are at constant fight as one part of herself blames a morbid perversion that has to be kept on check, but just as the other part sketches the idea of it being nothing but an harmless preference in her partners.
that being said, the semblance of self control that she had built with such an effort completely shatters when you two actually interact with each other. your inclination for shirts and dresses that showed your soft chest in just the perfect way to make abby's head spin is the cherry on top of this insane obsession she has to continuously push back.
it really doesn't take much for abby to have images flashing in her head displaying her taking one of your breasts in her hand and the other under the torturous treatment of her tongue and teeth, responsible for the purple love bites scattered all over your upper body.
following suit, the scenario alone of you on your back as abby spreads your legs and brings them to yourself, bending you in half and thus highlighting the delicious rolls of your stomach causes a wet patch to form in her underwear and an undetectable twitch of her legs, squeezing to maintain the facade of a normal person who doesn't get turned on as easily as an hormonal teenager would.
one day you two are sitting together and it pains abby to not be able to handle looking at you without the need to shy away and focus on anything that isn't you. and if she manages to avoid the sight of you, your laugh and the touches you give her are daggers piercing through her shield. she is aware of how awkward she actually acts and how impossible it would have been for you to not notice at some point.
when you place your smooth hand above her own – which abby had put on her knee – her breath halts and before she can apply some rationality she turns to you, finding you are closer than her senses had detected.
your eyes are so big and innocent and full of joy and... seducing, she observes.
"abby..." despite your firm gaze, her name comes out of your mouth as a whisper capable of making her hand on the knee grip it forcefully, not minding that this is definitely giving her off.
"i've been wanting to ask you this for quite some time," you unforgivably continue "but why do i feel like we're growing apart?" the content your inquiry is that of an unspeakable sorrow and fear of losing a dear person, but the tone in which it is asked exudes a neediness for something beyond simple reassurance. you bite your lips as abby is speechless before your question and your vicinity – what in the hell is happening? is she imagining things like she always does?
her attempt at assembling a sentence proves to be a failure when all you can hear is something along the lines of "no", "of course not", without any addition of the reason behind that.
"i wouldn't be here with you right now were it the case," is the best she manages to say as she tries to laugh it off with a shy grimace feigning a confidence that is long gone the moment you are in her presence.
"but then why are you always so stiff when i hug you? you don't even come up with ideas for what to do together like we used to," your heartbeat quickens, dwelling in an uncertain place between genuine hurt and sinful arousal for abby's shyness and difficulty in approaching you.
"i- i haven't really noticed anything different, maybe it's just that i've been busy but i'm not avoiding you, i mean–" she is cut short by your voice interrupting her and your face inching closer and closer to the point where she can see the shape of your lips with the corner of her eye.
"do i make you uneasy, abby?" and why do you have to lean forward and have your breasts already tightened by your corset invade her visual field. "and to think i've been wearing this for you," now your knee is touching hers, your dress leaving your thighs exposed the more you draw near, "hoping you would take it off," what on earth— "or, even better, you would have fucked me in it..."
what kind of absurd dream is she in?
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sincerelyneo · 2 months
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omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore
its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖
ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3
arcade | p.js
“i’m out of control, full power up”
💿now playing: arcade by nct dream
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❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.
❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.
❯ words: 3.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???
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"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"
You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.
"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.
“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”
You may have lied to him about that.
When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.
So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.
But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.
And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.
"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.
“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Pretty please!”
You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.
"Fine."
He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.
There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.
Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.
“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”
He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.
“How about we play some pinball?
"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”
“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.
“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.
“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.
He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.
You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.
“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.
“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."
Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.
"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."
It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.
Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.
"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”
“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.
You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.
"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."
He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."
As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.
But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.
The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.
You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.
After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.
He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.
You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.
“Just look at the camera and smile."
Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.
"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”
You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.
Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.
You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."
Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.
“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.
But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"
Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.
Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.
But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.
"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."
The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.
When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.
He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.
“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”
“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.
“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"
If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.
You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.
Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.
"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.
You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"
He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.
"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"
“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”
He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."
"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.
"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.
And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.
“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”
Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.
"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.
"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"
You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.
"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.
"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.
Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.
"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.
As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.
"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."
You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."
Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.
A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.
"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.
You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.
For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.
"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,
You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."
He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.
He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.
When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.
"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”
Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.
You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.
He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.
That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.
"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.
He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.
"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”
All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.
The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.
As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.
The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.
Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.
Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.
“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."
Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.
"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.
"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”
"Later?" You ask.
Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”
He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.
"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"
Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”
He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.
"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."
You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."
"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.
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ahhhwomen · 3 months
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Mom, I'm tired.
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Vampire Empire
Part 2
Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
A/N: Alright, so this writing style is not what I am used to, so feedback is definitely welcome. Due to me being unsure of this style I wanted to take a little longer to write part 2, but since yall liked part 1 so much I decided a shorter chapter was in order, I am already working on part 3, but yall gotta tell me how you feel about this one. Oh... and don't hate me for what i am about to do...
Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.
AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+
Summary: You just want to rest.
Word Count: 1.4k
You don’t know what is happening, why- you try to pull in a desperate breath, but still, nothing. Why- why was this happening? What is happening?
Why can’t you move?!
The lesser scary of the two redheads secures herself tighter against you, now supporting your full weight. She has to shift from a crouched-down position to sitting completely in your little enclosure. Her ankle awkwardly bends beneath her thigh. The rough ground fraying her expensive dress pants.
There is a sensation like concrete pouring through your veins, you can hear your heartbeat slow, and immense pressure start building behind your eyes, but you are desperate for control over something, anything. So, as much as it pains you, you tiredly let your eyes roam around the room while trying to avoid the blank stare from the taller redhead.
Your vision takes in the scenery that has unfolded in your space, you drape your eyes over the walls, the horror of your evening with Master painted like a masterpiece, you then take a risk and slowly run your eyes over the lower half of the woman in front of you.
Wanda is standing like a woman in power, her feet spaced apart hip to hip, spreading her weight perfectly between the pair of high, amber, heels. There was a slight scuff to one of them, a chip in the plastic, whatever fell earlier must have fallen on that heel, you doubt she would walk around with an imperfect pair if not. You swirl your eyes to the ground beside her, a tusk of brown hair having caught your attention.
That’s when you see it. Staring right back at you are the lifeless eyes of the seller. Or at least that is the only name you have for him.
It’s at that moment that the reality of the situation finally sets in.
 
You go to let out a high-pitched whine, but no sound is made, and for the first time in a long time, you have this desperate need to cry.
You can’t even do that.
You don’t want to die.
Not like this.
You want to smell the fresh air in the cold mornings, you want to feel the sand beneath your toes, you want to taste the richness of vanilla inside a simple frozen dish, and you want to live. If only for a moment longer.
But-
There is nothing you can do.
Your body loses all will to fight, and you give up.
Wanda keeps track of your vitals while under her control, she doesn't want to hurt you, but you are out of line, and frankly, your behavior unsettles the redhead.
When she can see the fight drain from your eyes, she releases you.
She sighs as the strain in her muscles loosens, and she moves her neck from left to right, removing the remaining tenseness. A prickle in her spine begs her to stretch out her entire body, but this was neither the time nor place, though she does put a pin in it, maybe she should order a massage sometime soon.
As for you, there is no sign that you are back in control except for the desperate gasping for air.
You don’t know what to do with this newfound freedom, Romanoff´s hands are keeping you close to her, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear, but suddenly it’s all too much. The only thing you can do is let your ribcage expand and contract at a rapid pace, the pain grounds you as your bruised ribs sting you.
You no longer fight against Natasha’s grip, and there is no chance that you will either.
You are scared, they can both feel it, but it’s not like it was a moment ago. A moment ago you were fighting to stay alive, fighting because it is your instinct to do so, now, you have given up on even that.
Now, you are just scared, plain and simple.
Natasha rubs her hands up and down your back slowly, the fabric of her silken shirt bunches up with her elbows, and the roll of textile slides against your skin rhythmically. Your body tenses and relaxes at strange intervals, there is a mistrust between her motive and your tender flesh, yet you still crave comfort.
That is until you see Wanda shift from one foot to the other and Natasha’s hands move too close to your collar, you strain your body away from her palms.
Natasha huffs in slight annoyance and shifts her attention to her wife, “What was that?”.
She tries to keep her voice quiet enough to not startle you, but it’s a futile attempt and shortly after she has opened her mouth you are crawling out of her arms and back into your corner.
She can tell it pains you to move, the bruises along your arms and legs making it difficult to crawl in a fluid motion, and she sees you struggle your way under the lamp, but you manage. In the end, you swiftly slump back into the position you laid in when they first got here, the only difference being that you are too tired to move the rag back over your body.
Wanda merely shrugs, her perfectly fitted suit ruffling with the movement, “She was becoming aggressive.” To be truthful, your sudden outburst had taken Wanda by surprise, she didn’t even know what she was saying until it was too late.
Natasha sighs before standing and walking up to her wife, her pants now scuffed and dirtied. She brushed herself down, but the filth of this place wasn’t one easily removed. She gets a hold of her bearings and stands straight before she bothers with a disappointed reply.
“She was just scared, “ she shakes her head disapprovingly. They have lived long enough to see all types of people. And Natasha knows you're type, scared, abused, and skittish. A dog in the fighting ring, or a cat in this case.
Anything can make you snap and bare your teeth.
However, she also knows that taking your right to do so away, will only worsen your behavior in the long run. It never helps to use fear against someone who is already terrified.
Again, Wanda does nothing but shrugs and lifts her jacket to glance at her watch.
Playtime is over, they have places to be, and it saddens Wanda, but she knows they won’t be leaving here with a pretty girl like she had hoped.
It´s best for Natasha that she rips the band-aid off fast.
Wanda points over at your shaking body, “It’s clear Carol has her eyes on her. You know we can’t keep her.”
Wanda slumps in on herself while saying it, her shoulders lower and her back bows unnaturally, the seams of her suit stretching and pulling against the tight movement. After the words have been put out there, Natasha's face shifts and morphs until she settles for a relatively neutral, but rather grim expression. The right side of her lip lifted into a slight sneer; this was an unfortunate situation.
Natasha looks down at her hands, hands she had just held you in, there are specs of dried blood and dirt covering the expanse of her palms, she tightens her fist and takes a slow breath.
Carol is already enough of a handful. Taking her punching bag away from her will only make matters worse.
Leased pet or not, Carol owns you.
So, Natasha nods curtly, the back of her shirt rubbing uneasily against the nape of her neck.
“Well, let’s go then.” With no regard to the body at her heels she steps over the man and continues to strut down the hall with her wife following shortly behind. Someone will be by to clean him up and replace him with another pawn, it’s the way these places work.
And if she took a moment to listen in on your heartbeat one last time before they left, it wouldn’t hurt anyone that she kept that to herself.
It sounded wrong.
Whatever sympathy Natasha felt for you was quickly squashed down and ignored as she and Wanda returned to business as usual.
It’s for the best, a pet would only make them weak.
After the two mysterious women leave, you curl into yourself and a sob breaks through you before you can stop it.
Mom, I'm tired.
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vivalarevolution · 26 days
Text
𝓐 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓤𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓷
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Feyd Rautha x Reader
Request: „Feyd with Reader from a lower house. Readers family has been making good moves to gain the barons favor and they have resources the Baron can't turn down. He offers Feyd in a marriage alliance, much to his nephews suprise.‟
A/N: I apologize in advance for such a delay but I was out of town , unable to write. Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.
Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.
Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.
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She was a pawn. From the moment she left her mother's womb she became a pawn. The galaxy forced this role on her without her knowledge or consent. And she could only watch helplessly.
When Baron Vladimir Harkonnen proposed an arranged marriage between her and his youngest nephew her role was reminded once again. And just as before, she could only watch helplessly as her father agreed , without even looking at her.
Because he was driven by greed , greed for which he had to pay the price. A price in the form of his eldest daughter.
And when she found herself in front of her betrothed something crawled to the surface , something erotic. From the moment their eyes met , there was a lustful tension that grew and grew.
Feyd had never met someone like her. He was used to women who were pale , hairless, slender and almost melancholic. She was different. Her head was adorned with soft hair ,cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her face was decorated with rosy cheeks and full, kissable lips. Her body was curvy, shaped almost like the goddesses from the ancient books of Old Terra. Her eyes hid the passionate desire that he wanted to feel in every way imaginable.
And when he found her alone, wandering through the dark corridors of the keep , he decided to capture her.
-Are you following me , my lord na-Baron? - she asked , with a shadow of curiosity in her voice , looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
-You are walking around my fortress. I want to make sure you don't do something you shouldn't - he replied, approaching her, slowly, like a predator to its prey.
-That doesn't change the fact that you're following me - she whispered, turning her head so that she could get a full look at the man's face, his sharp jawline, full lips and cold eyes that made him even more handsome and dangerous.
-And what if you were right ,what if I did ? - he purred, coming closer and closer, so close that their breaths mingled with each other.
-Then I would wonder what have I done to caught the attention of Feyd Rautha himself - she replied , brushing her lips against his with every word she spoke.
-You are to be my wife - he said , placing his hands on her hips, moving them unnoticeably higher ,towards her waist -Isn't that reason enough?
-I do not entirely believe that this is the real reason my lord na-Baron -she proclaimed , covering his hand with hers , stopping his movements.
-What do you think the real reason is? - he asked, touching her cheek, moving his thumb lazily over her skin, making her shiver because of his cold , silver ring.
-You desire me as much as I desire you my lord na-Baron - she whispered into his mouth , looking deeply into his blue eyes , which were burning with want.
Feyd pushed her roughly against a nearby wall , hanging over her smaller body. His hands captured her loins , drawing her closer to him.
-You're walking on a very thin line - he growled , sliding his lips along her neck.
His tongue tasted her flesh , while his teeth bit the soft skin of her throat.
-Forgive me - she breathed out, placing her palms on his muscular torso -Forgive me because I said words that I shouldn't have.
-What do you mean? - he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye, his nose gliding over the pulse on her neck.
-I feel a need that I have never been able to feel…And I can't control it - she confessed, looking at him from under her long lashes.
-You don't have to - he stated , whispering directly into her ear.
-I have to…because this need…I want my husband to feel it, my lover - she replied, escaping from his embrace.
However, the Baron's nephew did not let her go , even for a single step, before she again found herself in his arms.
-You think I will let you run away? - he asked, pressing her body against his -That I will let you awaken in me a desire I have never felt before and watch helplessly as you leave me…I will not let you.
The woman turned her head in his direction.
-I thought you prefer a challenging chase , easy prey is not of value to you - she admitted , running her gaze towards the dark corridor , the end of which could not be seen - Besides…the walls here seem to have eyes and ears my lord na-Baron , and this could ruin your hunt - she whispered , feeling how besides Feyda's eyes , there was something else hiding in the darkness.
The man followed her gaze , watching the void engulfing them until he heard a single movement , which made him move like a beast of prey , having found his victim.
The woman seizing her chance , disappeared into the abyss of the corridors , leaving na-Baron , who returned to their meeting place moments later , with blood on his hands and a thirst that burned him alive. But she was no longer there.
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When there was nowhere to run , he captured her once again. His gaze alone held her in place , as she stood before him so innocent , so delicate , in a white , lace dress that changed color when their blood merged with each other , uniting them forever . Feyd relished the sight of his wife , once so pure , now soiled with the blood he wanted to lick off her body , exchanging his oaths in a voice as cold as ice while his eyes burned with lust.
And when it was finally time to hunt , he felt the beast inside him tearing his way out.
-The time for the hunt has come - the priestess announced.
Na-Baron watched as the woman looked at him confused , but he only grasped her body in response , drawing her close to him.
-You won't run away from me this time…but I'll let you try - he whispered, before he let go of her body, watching as she moved in haste , flying away like a small bird that finally got its freedom , not knowing that a hungry wolf was right behind her.
Feyd let her disappear from his sight before he went after her. His steps echoed through the abandoned halls , but he didn't care , because he wanted her to know that he was coming for her , that he was close , so very close. He stalked her every move, always being one step ahead of her, even though she was still far away.
Until there was nowhere to run.
He found her in his chambers, naked , kneeling on the black satin sheets adorning his bed. She was looking at him, waiting.
He cupped her chin between two fingers, stroking the soft skin of her cheeks, while his thumb traced her full, red lips.
-I truly believed that you would give me a worthy chase. But you're lying here ready for me to devour you - he groaned , sliding his hand down her throat.
-Maybe I've grown tired of waiting for you to catch me, my lord husband - she confessed, rising gently, just enough to brush his lips with hers.
He tightened his fingers on her neck , pulling her closer , attacking her mouth. His kisses were sensual and brutal like him , taking the breath from her lungs as her hands tried desperately to strip him of his clothes , which kept her from feeling his pale skin on her fingertips.
-Aren't you desperate , little wife? - he murmured , inot her mouth
-Please…- she whispered.
Feyd moved away from her , leaving behind the feeling of need on her flesh. His hands stripped off his clothes at a slow pace , relishing in the way his wife , gazed at each , new piece of the skin he uncovered.
And when he got rid of everything that could separate them, he hovered over her just like the night they first met , kissing the skin of her collarbones , heading lower and lower , towards her ample breasts , her round hips and firm thighs.
-Feyd - she whispered, addressing him by name for the first time - What are you doing? - she asked, looking at him.
-I want to taste you , I need to know if you taste as sweet as your blood - he murmured, kissing her inner thigh.
Before the woman had time to reply to his words, his tongue touched her swollen clit, swirling around the pink pearl, making her uncontrollably thrust her pelvis forward, imprisoning the man in the softness of her thighs. Na-Baron , in response, growled, clamping his hands on her body, drawing her impossibly closer, feasting. His mouth explored her womanhood, kissing and licking every part, leaving nothing without his attention. He was bestial, greedily sipping her juices, which tasted like the sweetest dessert of his life, as his eyes stared at the woman before him, who was consumed by the convulsions of pleasure that tore through her body, making her burst into flames that consumed her mind. Feyd watched in delight as she broke under the impact of her orgasm, licking everything she gave him, feeling her muscles go limp under his fingertips and seeing her eyes cloud over with uncontrollable desire.
Without giving her time to recover , he lifted her trembling body , laying it on top of him , sitting down himself , leaning against the headboard of the massive bed.
-You will ride me my little wife , you will ride me until darkness appears in front of your eyes and your body stops listening to you - he growled , marking her neck with purple marks and angry red bites.
The male, grabbed her thighs, entered her slowly, unable to wait a moment longer. His shaft was so big, so thick, that his wife felt as if something was tearing her from the inside, feeling it deep in her belly. So deep that she couldn't breathe properly.
The movements of his loins were strong and rough. His member was kissing her cervix alternately with hitting a spongy point that made her walls clench so tight that no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn't move. The woman was coming out to meet his thrusts, trying to catch up with him, trying to catch the sweet release he had given her a few seconds ago , already addicting to it. Arching her back and exposing herself completely, she wanted him to touch her and don't stop , never stop. And then she felt it. A mass of burning heat flooding her belly. She didn't know anymore whether it was her body that gave her that electrifying heat or maybe it was Feyd's warmth, but she accepted it, she accepted everything.
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themoonitselff · 5 months
Text
Okay but just imagine Mizu getting dominated by her s/o and feeling that safe she can actually let her femenine side out.
Very explicit nsfw under the cut. (afab reader)
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The taste of her lips against yours was already making your thighs warm and wet, her hands were already searching for the sweet points in your body that makes you jolt and whimper for more, but this time was different. You wanted to make her feel different.
Since she's always manhandling you, always taking care of you, always pleasuring your needs, sometimes she gets really stressed by the thoughts of responsibility, like, she needed a break, a release from all the pain and suffering in this path full of blood. You were thinking about this since last week, and you just couldn't stand there again and let her do all the job. Not again.
Before she could take your kimono down, you took her hands gently, stopping her, your gaze connected with her as you whisper “Let me take control of this, tonight is all about you.” Your voice immediately made her relax, but it still was weird for her since she had this icanmakeeverythingbymyown mindset in her head.
She saw you getting on your knees as you sat her in a rock, in front of a waterfall, in the middle of the night, where the only expectator was the moon. “Hey, you don't have t-”
“But I want to. ” You replied, taking her pants off, she denied at first, scared of what could have happened, what could possibly put you and her in danger and that she cannot do anything about it. It's not like she treats you like a stupid young child that doesn't know how to take care of their self, in fact, Mizu thinks you're amazing at fighting when the situation merits it, your thin blade passes through the enemies bodies like it's a leaf, you're talented, but when she started falling in love with you, she had this need to protect you and own you, because she wants you to calm and not endure, like her. Now it's the other way around.
You place her hand in your head, as your mouth sinks in her arousal, your tongue gently caressed her clit, it was pumping against your lips as you kissed it with an indescribable romance, you were actually enjoying it, your pussy was like a water slide.
The sense of your tongue against her body made her change mind instantly, her hand pushed you deeper in her core, the moans that were low, raspy and groaning at first now were sweet and high pitched, her head tilted back as she just stopped being so hard like a rock and let herself just enjoy the moment, her hips moving into your mouth like wanting more, as you smiled against her lower lips.
“You're so beautiful when your off guard.” You babbled between her legs, your mouth left her throbbing cunt to make some kisses and hickeys on her crotch, your ears were hearing and orchest of whimpers and moans, at this point, she sounded like a woman fallen from heaven, and whatever you were doing, she was satisfied with it, more than satisfied, grateful.
“Keep doing it.. You're so fucking good at this-” She demanded, it was so cute you couldn't believe it, Mizu can be very submissive when it comes to.
Your ears now were hearing a wonderful orchest of whimpers and moans, they were so loud you had to get up and kiss her passionately to get her mouth shut, you tongues were dancing roughly, eating each other, it was so erotic you couldn't believe it. You? Making the cold Mizu whimper and cry for you?
“Come here, let me feel you closer.” You hummed.
“ I'll regret this later- Fuck! ” She panted in your mouth.
Mizu's legs were now hugging your waist, her hand was scratching your back and the other supporting her weight in the rock, you thrusted into her a bit rough until you felt her squirting all over your arm and a bit of your kimono, she was breathing hard against your lips, panting and squeezing your fingers full of her cum.
You stayed like this, close to her, your foreheads touched each other as Mizu and you closed your eyes, recovering from action, then you laughed a bit and pulled your fingers off, just to taste them later. “I told you this night was about you. ”
“I-.. ” She hided her face, trying to get back her pride. “Just shut the fuck up.” Mizu pulled you back again to her lips, kissing you like feral.
Maybe you could start being her stress-releaser since now.
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lilasamaaa · 25 days
Text
In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader
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Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
Word count | 3.6K.
Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.
Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.
Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!
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One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it. 
When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?
In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.
Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot. 
She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person. 
"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.
"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.
"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.
She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.
"What do you want?" Livio asks.
Nothing, really, but she can't say that.
"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.
"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."
A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.
Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.
Charles and Carlos.
Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.
A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.
Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...
It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.
A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).
She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.
In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.
She had recognized him immediately, of course.
Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.
He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.
"That's one lucky guy."
Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.
His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.
"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.
"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.
"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.
"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.
"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.
"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."
"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.
"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.
She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.
This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.
While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.
A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.
In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.
Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.
"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.
"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.
She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.
"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.
"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.
The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.
"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.
Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.
"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.
She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.
"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.
"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"
"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."
"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.
But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.
"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.
She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.
Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.
"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."
She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.
And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.
"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.
She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.
"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.
Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.
The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.
"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.
She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.
"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.
She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.
"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"
"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.
"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.
The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.
"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.
"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.
"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.
"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"
For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.
"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.
"What? why?" she asks, surprised.
"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."
"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."
"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"
She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.
She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?
"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment."
She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.
"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."
After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.
She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.
"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.
"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."
"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"
"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.
She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.
"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.
"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.
"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.
"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.
"What do you mean?"
"This has to be the worst timing ever, but I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.
He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.
"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."
"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."
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midnightbluebells03 · 1 month
Note
you should do reader x girlfriend abby where when using her strap on reader she accidentally slips up and says i love you. Forget to mention they’ve never got to that point in their relationship so it’s shocking
First anon btw
THEN I GO AND SPOIL IT ALL
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CW - strap usage (R receiving), very slight begging
Reader isn't described apart from having a vagina and being able bodied
No outbreak
WC - about 1.2k
Leave me requests to help me break my writes block pls and thx xo
There's no place you'd rather spend your Friday night than pinned under the strong grasp of your new girlfriend Abby Anderson. Even if you had to indure a party with her resident friends from the hospital to get here. Gritting your teeth with a forced smile as Owen Moore tells another one of his stories from when him and Abby briefly dated as teenagers. Despite the fact his very pregnant girlfriend couldn't look more uncomfortable if she tried.
The only thing keeping you from telling him to shut up being the hand sitting on your thigh just out of view of the rest of the group. Abby giving you a gentle squeeze everytime you held back a snarky comment or a roll of your eyes.
And what better way for her to reward you than this?
So as you wait for her to fix the straps on her harness, still coming down from the last orgasm she gave you, you can't help but grip the sheets under you with one hand. The other lazily trailing across your stomach, dipping a little lower each time just to keep yourself on edge. There's something about the care Abby puts into getting ready that does it for you. Making sure her harness is fitted in a way that let's her have full control, tying her hair into a messy bun to keep it from falling in your face, applying a generous amount of lube to the slick 7' dildio she had recently purchased. Every little detail was just for you.
"Abby" you whine softly. Sitting up onto your elbows. You're met with a soft chuckle as she finally makes her way onto the bed. Her hands keeping your legs spread as she gets into position, the tip of the strap sitting right at your dripping pussy.
"Sorry baby" she leans down and gives you a quick peak on the lips before pulling back. "Just had to get ready for you". One of her hands trails up to your chest, pushing you down off your elbows gently. "You were so good tonight"
"Trust me if you weren't there I wouldn't have been" you admit, smiling at how Abby chuckles softly. Her hand moving to move a loose peice of hair out of your face befote just holding your cheek.
"I know but I still appreciate it" you move your own hand over hers, giving it a squeeze before she puls away. Holding the toy so its just teaing your hole. "You ready baby?"
"Mhm"
"Words" she says sternly. But it's not mean it's because she needs you to tell her, needs to hear how badly you want her.
"Yeah, Abby please just-"
As the tip slips in you gasp loudly. But what you heard was undeniable. Abby moaning a soft "fuck I love you" as she slowly pushes in. Eyes glued to your pussy as it swallows her length. You whine softly but she clearly assumes its from the stretch, so when your hand comes up to her jaw she looks worried. "You okay? Too big?"
"You- fuck" you inturput yourself with a moan as you reach the base. Hand staying tight around Abby's defined jaw. You felt full. Completely and utterly full.
"Shhh I know baby" Abby's voice is sweet as she moves closer to your face. Making you moan at the slight movement of the toy. "I'm gonna wait okay?"
Swallowing hard you finally manage to stammer out. "You- you said it"
Abby tilts her head slightly. "Said what baby?"
"That you love me"
Her eyes widen slightly. "Did I?" You nod and her face turns red. Her voice is shaking slightly as she tries to dig herself out of the situation. "Shit, fuck, I um I know we haven't been dating that long and fuck I'm sorry I've-"
You pull her in for a kiss. Inturpting her rambling before speaking softly. "I love you too Abs"
"Yeah?" She almost sounds like she doesn't believe you. Her gorgeous steel blue eyes looking down at you, filled with hope.
"Yeah, I love you Abby" you say with a big smile. But as Abby's hips move back slightly you can't help but look at the ceiling and moan. "God"
"You good?" Abby asks with a cocky tone as her hips slowly start to move. A slow steady rythm that let's you feel every single inch.
"So good" your grip on the sheets tighten as your breaths become staggered. "So fucking good"
"Love watching you like this" Abby groans softly, her hands gripping onto your hips tightly. Giving her more leverage to start moving into you harder. "So fucking pretty"
"Fuck Abs" you moan loudly. Almost certain your neighbours must hate you. But you didn't care right now, too preoccupied with the way Abby is making you feel like your floating. "F-faster"
"You want faster baby?" The tease is thick in her tone, her thrusts slowly slightly making you whimper. Desperately trying to move yourself down onto the toy but stopped by her strong grasp. "You can ask better than that"
"Need it so bad" you beg, hands moving onto her biceps as your names dig into her freckled skin. "Please Abby, faster please". And thankfully you're being rewarded tonight because her hips snap forward, moving at a speed that has you mumbling incoherently between moans. Your grip so tight on her arms you could probably break the skin.
It's not long before your clenching around the toy so hard it makes it difficult for Abby to keep her pace. Your legs trembling and threatening to close, only stopped by Abby being in the way.
"You gonna cum for me pretty girl?" She coos softly, smiling st the way you can only nod your head as your eyes screw shut. "Go on then baby"
The knot in your stomach snaps as you cum all over her strap. Babbling a string of "Abby, Abby, Abby!" As she fucks you through it. Her hips only stopping once you release her arms and let out a breathy moan. Abby pulls out slowly, discarding the strap and harness elsewhere. Planning on dealing with it later. Right now she just slumps down next to you, pulling you onto her chest.
You listen to her heart beat fro a few minutes, fingers tracing ocer her abs lightly before you look up at her. "So you love me huh?" The way her cheeks flush makes you smile. It was one of your favourite things about her. The way she could go from tough and commanding to soft in a heart beat. "You're so cute"
"Says you" she kisses the top of your head before tapping your shoulder. "Cmon let's get cleaned up"
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