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babyhatesreality · 2 months ago

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Could you write something where there’s an emergency and stucky have to go help and reader is being so brave in the safe room? Or something else.. I trust you💗💗

Over a year later....I'm sorry for the delay. Please believe me it eats at me. Hope you're still around for this, and I love you <3

Take One Down

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!F!Reader, featuring big Peter

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, pet names, attack on the Tower during the night, Bucky is armed, slight alcohol reference, angsty/scared baby, a few tears, safe room. Happy Ending- always :)

A/N- also Happy Birthday to me :D

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

The first thing you became aware of was that Papa was breathing hard. And you were in his arms.

Then you realized you weren't in bed, and you were moving. Fast.

"Papa?" you whimpered sleepily, not being awake enough to understand what was happening.

"Shh, shh, it's okay baby, you're okay," Papa said instantly, pressing a quick kiss in your hair. Despite his soothing words, he didn't slow his pace at all.

You forced your heavy eyelids to open, and then almost immediately shut them again as the flashing red lights in the hallway were too bright. You were still in your pajamas, but you definitely weren't at home. Steve could feel that you were waking up and becoming more alert, but he couldn't stop. He had to get you to safety.

"Where's Daddy?" you asked, your voice trembling as you started to realize something was wrong. "Daddy okay?"

"Right here, Trouble," came Daddy's voice from farther away. You tried to twist in Papa's arms to see where Daddy was, but Papa's iron grip on you didn't leave much purchase.

"It's okay, princess, you're safe, but I need you to be a good girl and be quiet for us right now, okay?" Steve said, deliberately keeping his voice calm and low even through the exertion of running.

"'Kay," you said as quietly as you could, holding on to Papa tightly, shutting your eyes tightly, and trying to be brave. Steve kissed your hair again and kept running.

Within 30 seconds, you felt Steve stop. You opened your eyes and looked around. It took you a second, but you recognized this place. You'd been here before, back when you very first came to live with Steve and Bucky. You were in the panic room.

The reinforced steel walls were made slightly less intimidating by the giant sofa that could convert into a bed, the soft rug that nearly covered every inch of floor, and the overwhelming amount of toys and stuffed animals in baskets and boxes all around the edge of one wall. You hadn't been here in a while, but you could never forget this place.

Your eyes darted all around, trying to get some answers or understanding as to what happened, but before it came to you, Steve set you down carefully on your feet and took you gently by the shoulders. You heard Bucky shut and lock the door, but before you could turn to look Steve gently guided your face back towards his.

"Katie-Cat, I need you to listen to me, okay?" Steve said, looking you very seriously and directly in the eye. "Someone is in the Tower. Someone who's not supposed to be here. We don't know how they got in, but right now, we need to keep you safe so we can go get them out. Do you understand?"

"I- yes, Papa," you said shakily. You swallowed your nerves down and tried to be brave.

"Good girl," Steve said, as a fierce wave of protectiveness rushed through him. "Peter is on his way, and he's going to stay in here with you and keep you safe while Daddy and I go get the person out. Okay?"

"Petey coming?"

"Yes."

"He don't need to fight?"

"Right now, he needs to keep you safe, that's his most important job."

"But...who gonna keep him safe?"

"He's Big Peter right now, munchkin- he's going to be okay. Can you be a good girl and listen to what Peter says and do what he tells you to?"

"Um- yeah. Papa-" "Good girl. You remember the rules of the safe room?"

"Papa..."

"The rules, Katie-Cat."

"Don't leave the room unless you, Daddy, or Aunt Nat comes to get me, don't open the door for nobody, and....and be good."

"That's my girl," Steve said, his heart both proud and shattered that you had to know these things.

"Papa?" you tried again.

"Yes?"

"You gonna come back, right? You and Daddy?" you asked in a small voice. Steve pulled you into his chest immediately in the biggest bear hug.

"Yes, baby," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Daddy and I will always come back for you. Always."

Just then, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you two. "Try and keep us away, Trouble," Daddy added in a light, joking tone, but even you could feel the tension underneath it. "Here, I brought you someone who can help you too." Bucky reached behind him and pulled Jellybean out of his back pocket, where he had unceremoniously stuffed her as he and Steve were racing to get you out of the apartment.

You gasped sharply, and pulled your beloved bunny in so tightly to your face that her little button nose left a slight imprint on your cheek. "Tank you Daddy," you said, trying hard not to cry. "AND tank you Papa for carryin' me," you added quickly, not wanting him to feel left out. Both men responded by hugging you tighter.

Just then, the panic room door clicked, announcing that someone else was coming in. Bucky immediately dropped his arms and spun so you and Steve were behind him, his gun appearing in his hand as if by magic. However, once he saw that it was Tony and Peter, he instantly lowered the gun and ran to bolt the door back behind them.

"Pete, you sure you're good?" Tony asked immediately the second the door was shut.

"I'm good Dad, I swear," Peter said. You looked at him wide-eyed- it had been a while since you had heard his big voice.

"Okay. Only if you're sure," Tony pressed.

"I'm sure. I wouldn't take a chance if I wasn't."

"Atta boy."

Tony turned towards the three of you to find Steve smiling at him. "That's good enough for me," Steve said kindly to Peter. "But if there's any trouble at all, and I mean anything, you radio us. Copy?"

"Copy," Peter nodded quickly. "I'll link with your comms now," he said, before pulling out the large, black case from underneath the sleeper bed sofa. He quickly opened the case and got to work on a radio comm.

You watched him carefully. He was so...different and serious when he was Big- not the silly, carefree bestie you immediately recognized- so it was always surprising to you when you saw it. Of course, YOUR definition of 'serious' was much, much different than Tony's or Steve's or Bucky's, but that didn't matter now, as you watched Peter's fingers fly over the machinery.

"Okay, we should be linked," he said into the comm. All three men immediately nodded, confirming that they could hear him in their earpieces. Steve and Bucky spun back to you.

"Do what Peter says. We'll be back as soon as we can," Daddy said gruffly, taking your face in his hands and pressing a long kiss to your forehead. "We love you so much. Be good, got it?"

"Got it," you said, trying to match his gruff tone to show him you could be serious too. That made the ghost of a smile cross his lips, and as Steve kissed you too, it stayed. Tony even came over, quickly, giving you what he hoped was a carefree grin.

"Alright, have fun, stay safe. Don't tap the keg unless you really need to," he said, tapping your nose and grinning when you looked confused and Steve tutted loudly. Bucky was the last one out the door, and before he left, he turned to Peter.

"You remember the code word?" he asked the young man brusquely. Peter nodded, but due to the door being opened, didn't say it. "Good job," Bucky said with that faint grin again, closing and locking the door behind him.

It was deathly silent in the room. You swallowed hard, gripping Jellybean tightly, almost afraid to move, even though you knew you were in the safest spot imaginable (outside of your daddies' arms). Peter immediately noticed your distress.

"Hey Katie, hey Little One," he said softly, holding out his arms to you. "You wanna come here?"

You nodded, then slowly walked towards him. You cautiously stepped into his arms. Once he folded them around you, you inhaled. His scent never changed, no matter if he was big or small, and you knew this was your Petey, no matter how he was feeling right now. You threw your arms around him and hugged him back tightly, and felt him give a soft chuckle. "It's okay, you're okay. I'm gonna keep you safe- you know that, right?"

You pulled back a bit, nodding. "Tank you, Petey. I mean...Peter."

Peter smiled. "Ah, that's okay. You can call me Petey right now if you want to."

"I can?"

"Sure you can."

"Otay Petey," you said, suddenly feeling a little better upon hearing that. "What's happenin' in da Tower?"

"What did Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky tell you?" Peter asked carefully.

"Um, dat someone got in dat wasn't a'sposed to be in?"

"That's right. And they'll get 'em out, so you don't have to worry about them anymore, okay?"

"Um....okay," you said, wanting to trust Peter with your whole heart, but still uncertain due to the nature of the circumstance. Peter saw pretty quickly that he would need to distract you.

"Hey, you wanna sit on the couch and read some stories while we wait?" He trotted over to the box containing tons of books and started pawing through them. "You can pick out whichever stories you want. Okay?"

Curiosity peaked, you trotted over to look. You recognized The Gruffalo and Frozen, pointing at them. "I like those!" you said excitedly, and Peter snatched them up.

"Let's get to reading!" he said. "Race you to the couch!"

Since it was only a couple feet away, it wasn't much of a race, but it was still fun. It was always fun when you got to run. You both jumped onto the couch enthusiastically, and Peter opened up the first book and began to read. You inched closer and closer to him as he continued, eventually snuggling into his side, your thumb in your mouth and Jellybean in the crook of your arm.

He finished off Frozen in about ten minutes, then turned to you. "Alright, Katie, you ready for...THE GRUFFALO??" he said in a mock scary voice that made you laugh. But once you stopped laughing at his silliness, you had another question in mind.

"Petey, what's a keg?" you asked innocently.

Poor Peter nearly broke his neck doing a double take. "Wh-what?" he asked, not sure of what he heard. When he was in little space with you, your random questions and changes of subject made perfect sense to him, but when he was bigger it was hard to keep up sometimes.

"Unca Tony said don't tap da keg unless we needed to. What's a keg?"

"It's nothing....he was just being silly. Let's read."

"Is a weapon?"

"No...it's....hey, look, books. Let's read."

"But what IS it?"

"Ahhhh...it's....you know....it's...hey, you wanna sing a song?" Peter said, loudly and excitedly, hoping the non-sequitur would distract you.

It worked. "What kind of song?" you asked, intrigued.

"Umm..." Peter thought quickly, trying to get your mind off of what a keg was. He felt a flicker of compassion for Uncle Steve whenever his Dad did this to you, but mostly he was trying to come up with a song. "Hey, do you know Ninety Nine Bottles of...." he said suddenly, his brain both working and failing him miserably all at the same time.

"Bottles of what?" you asked, now completely invested. Peter broke out in a cold sweat. He couldn't teach you a song about beer, for goodness' sake.

"Did I say bottles? That was silly. I meant...boxes. Yeah, boxes!...of... juice! That was it! Ninety Nine boxes of juice on the wall! Do you know that song?" he improvised wildly. You tilted your head, trying to think, but then shook it.

"How's it go?"

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly. He wasn't much of a singer, but he knew he was going to have to give it a go if he had any hope of distracting you from asking about kegs. Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky would rip his head off if he told you, and he knew that you were stubborn enough to keep asking. But man...he REALLY didn't want to sing and embarrass himself in front of you....

Just then, you both heard a loud crash coming from somewhere below. It was loud enough that it made you both jump, even though the room didn't even shudder. Peter watched as your face turned pale and you gripped your bunny tighter. You pinched your lips together and breathed slowly. He knew exactly what you were doing. You were trying to calm down and being as brave as you could be. His heart melted for you.

And he found his courage in that.

"So...the song," he said, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to regain your attention and hopefully calm you a bit. "It goes..." he coughed again, took a deep breath, and went for it. "Ninety nine boxes of juice on the wall....ninety nine boxes of juice....you take one down and pass it around...ninety eight boxes of juice on the wall!"

You blinked at him, wide-eyed, and waited for the rest. He looked back at you hopefully to see how this was going down.

"Short song," you said, tilting your head, confused. Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A short time later, Steve and Bucky were finishing sweeping their own floor and apartment. "Clear," Steve said definitively into the comm. "Natasha, Tony, Thor, what's your status?"

When everyone came through confirming the all-clear, Fury came through the line. "Rogers, Barnes, Stark- go get 'em." It was all the permission they needed.

Steve got their first, but instead of punching the code in immediately, he stopped and stared at the door. "Steve?" Bucky asked in a tense voice, instantly on alert. To his immense surprise, Steve turned to him, a look of astonished humor on his face.

"Buck, listen," he whispered. Bucky strained his ears...and then couldn't believe what he was hearing. The room was sound proofed, but hey- they were super soldiers.

"Twenty-three boxes of juice on the wall, twenty-three boxes of juuuuuicceeeee...."

Bucky punched in the code. The second before he touched the keypad though, he heard Peter's voice cut off suddenly, and then within .5 seconds, your voice cut off too. The button panel lit up green and the door unbolted. Bucky threw the door open, Steve right behind him.

Peter was standing in the middle of the room, his suit in the last phase of forming around him, in his classic Spiderman pose. Bucky raised his hands immediately.

"Password?" Peter asked firmly.

"Trouble," Bucky replied immediately. Peter instantly relaxed and stood up straight, his suit disappearing, knowing for sure this was Bucky. "Good job Peter," Bucky said gratefully, even as he and Steve were rushing to the secret panel they knew you were hiding in. The second they slid the door back, you threw yourself into their waiting arms.

Bucky held you so tight you could feel his every breath, and Steve kept kissing your hair and murmuring what a good girl you were. Eventually, you looked over and saw Tony and Peter in an embrace as well, Tony clapping his young charge on the back proudly.

"Are you okay, angel?" Steve asked you, his eyes lovingly scanning your face. You nodded happily.

"Yeah, Papa! We good! Did you get the bad guys?"

"We sure did."

"YAY!! Who was dey? How did dey get in? What did-"

"Okay, angel, that's too many questions for a little girl right now," Steve said gently, nuzzling your nose with his. "We're safe and it's time to go home. Can we go say goodbye and thank you to Peter?"

You nodded again, suddenly very sleepy from all the receding adrenaline. Bucky carried you over to Tony and Peter.

"She was so good and brave, Dad," Peter was saying enthusiastically to Tony. "She picked out books and sang and we jumped on the couch and everything!"

"You did so good, buddy, I couldn't be more proud of you," Tony said, his seams bursting. He grinned at you as you approached. "Hey, thanks for taking it easy on the kid, little one."

"Petey was da best!! He taught me a new song. Papa, you're gonna love it!"

Steve smirked. "I'm sure I will, baby. Can you say thank you please?"

You wiggled a bit, wanting Bucky to let you down, but you gave up pretty quickly. After being separated from you during a stressful situation, Bucky didn't like to put you down for anything. You leaned forward towards Peter, however, and he accommodated you. You gave your big bestie the biggest hug you possibly could.

"Tank you for taking care of me, Petey," you said lovingly. He squeezed you back.

"Thank you for being so good, Katie!" he responded. Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder. He could hear it in Peter's voice- he was getting close to becoming small again, and he wanted to get his brave boy home. You all said your goodbyes and headed home.

You were cuddled between your daddies and asleep again before you knew it, secure in the knowledge that you were safe and loved by the best people in the galaxy.

#daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy stucky #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!stucky x little reader #daddy steve #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve x little reader #daddy steve rogers #daddy!steve rogers #daddy steve rogers x little reader #daddy!steve rogers x little

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sideshowsnob · 2 months ago

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Sims4l1fe Nani Pusheen Sofa + Nani Cat bed converted to the sims 3 by sideshow_snob

[TS3] Sims41ife Nani Sofa + Cat Bed Credits to Sims4l1fe

Sofa -3.6kPoly [1.8kMLOD] -1024px Textures -Functional [Living chairs] -Recolorable, 6 swatches [2 channels]

Cat Bed -2.4kPoly [1kMLOD] -1024px Textures -Functional [small pet bed, pets required] -Recolorable, 2 swatches [2 channels]

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#ts3 #the sims 3 #ts3cc #sims 3 #s3cc #sims 3 cc #s3ccfinds #sims3cc #thesims3cc #4to3

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spacesavingfurnitureuk · 1 year ago

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Experience Unbeatable Comfort: Best UK Sofa Beds to Invest In

In recent years, the demand for sofa beds in the UK has skyrocketed as more and more people seek versatile furniture solutions that offer both comfort and practicality. Gone are the days when a sofa bed was simply seen as an additional sleeping option for unexpected guests. Today, these multipurpose pieces have become essential components of modern living spaces, especially in homes where space…

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#Convertible Sofa beds

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copinghex · 6 months ago

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From his tenderness | T.S

Summary: After a long and tiring day, Tommy tucks his wife in bed. 🔞

A/N: Saturday smut hehe

Tommy knew she was in a bad mood the second she entered his office. The windows of their shared house were all closed to keep the cold out, but she still felt her hands shaking.

She plopped into the sofa and left out a sigh, covering her face with both hands.

"You didn't answer any of my texts," Tommy started, "why did you get a phone if you're not gonna use it?"

"Tommy-" she complained, "I must've turned off the notifications, right? I'm sorry,"

He sized her up and cracked a weak smile, "You look fucking exhausted,"

"Tsk, thanks," she snorted.

"Rough day?"

"Yeah,"

"I ordered dinner,"

"What?"

"You didn't answer my texts so I ordered your favorite," Tommy explained and she grabbed her phone, glancing at the messages on the lockscreen.

"Hmm, I'm not hungry yet," she complained, "I just wanna go straight to bed,"

"Then go," he took a sip of his whiskey glass and went back to his work, "I'll join you later,"'

"Join me now,"

"I've work to do,"

"Don't you always? You had the whole day to finish this," she argued.

"I've got emails to send,"

"Oh? Managing to send emails without me?" she mocked, "They grow up so fast,"

"Weren't you going to bed?" Tommy gave her a scolding look.

Silence took over and she stood up, "I'll take a shower," she announced before leaving the office.

She made her way through the house checking her social media, dropping the phone on the bed when she got in the bedroom. Picking a set of clean clothes, she headed to the bathroom.

Taking her working clothes off felt the same as taking a burden off her back. She started the shower and waited until it got warm.

The water ran down her tense muscles, she quickly rubbed the soap on her skin and rinsed off. After washing her hair as well, she closed her eyes, enjoying the water on her back, however the incomplete chores of the day still clouded her mind.

With a deep frustrated sigh, she turned off the shower and grabbed her towel, perhaps a good night of sleep could achieve better success in relaxing her.

Back to the bedroom, she got dressed and plopped in bed, right in the middle, unbothered by her wet hair in the sheets or the fact Tommy might want to lay down later, he didn't put her first when she told him about her terrible day so she wouldn't put him first now either.

Except that, suddenly, a warm rough hand wrapped around her ankle.

"Fuck!" she jumped, pulling her leg back, "What're you doing?"

Tommy chuckled at how easily she got scared, they were the only people in the house, it couldn't be anyone else.

"You're not gonna eat?" he asked, grabbing her leg and gently squeezing her calf muscles.

"No, I just want to sleep," she frowned, "what happened to your emails?"

"I've set another priority,"

"Oh, really?" she scoffed and pulled her leg back again, "Or were you just struggling to edit a document?"

"I decided to do something you often do for me,"

"You're gonna convert my docx files to pdf?"

"Alright, fucking stop that," he demanded, "for someone who's so tired you're joking way too much,"

She smiled at his annoyed face, mentioning his lack of technological skills always made him defensive.

"So here's what you're gonna do," he held the hem of her shirt, "take these off, shut your pretty mouth and lay on your stomach,"

"Why?" she questioned.

"Do it," he gave her an assuring nod.

Hesitantly, she took her clothes off, laying down on only underwear. She frowned when Tommy reached for something from the dressing table and straddled her thighs.

"What are you-"

"Just relax, alright? I dropped my paperwork for this,"

A shiver ran down her spine as Tommy spread lotion through her back. He pressured in between her shoulder blades, melting the tension underneath his palm just like she had done for him many times.

A smirk showed on his face when he noticed the sleepy look on her face, he was certain that when he finished, she'd promptly fall asleep in his arms.

His rough hands trailed the way down to her lower back, effortlessly soothing the knots on her muscles. Tommy took his time to extinguish any ounces of tension, handling her body with the mastery he cultivated in the time they were together.

At certain point, she felt liquid in his hands, loose as a ragdoll, but surprisingly, not asleep yet. Whatever was clouding her mind was resistant to enough to not vanish.

Gently, Tommy lifted her hips and pressed her back down, making her arch for him. His fingers brushed on her clothed pussy making her whine,

"Tommy-" she peeked at him, "I'm tired,"

"It works for me when I can't sleep," he argued and she chuckled.

"Not always, that's why I insist you take your meds,"

"Yeah," he admitted in defeated tone, "and what an insistent creature you are,"

"You are a creature," she struck back then smiled, "come here,"

Turning to face him, she tried to attach her lips to his neck, he quickly held her jaw though, not allowing her leave any marks on him.

"No, last time I had to keep up with John spitting three jokes per minute,"

"But Tom-" she tried to remove his hand.

"No, just let me take care of you, eh?"

With a weak smile, she nodded, "Okay,"

Tommy pecked her lips and headed to the wardrobe, rummaging through the drawers until he found their lube bottle, "Tongue or fingers?"

"You,"

"Alright," with a naughty smirk, he also got a condom and a tiny vibrator.

Once he was back in bed, she attached their lips together, her mind slipped away from any worries at the feeling of his gentle kiss. One of Tommy's hands rested on the top of her head while the other guided her legs around him.

At the same time, her hands explored the soft skin under his shirt, the lean muscles twitched and she smiled against his lips, she knew Tommy had many women before and yet, simple gentle touches made him weak.

When necessity demanded, they broke the kiss, breathing heavily with desire.

"I love you," she breathed out.

"You better," he weakly smiled, pampering kisses on the valley of her breasts.

Reaching for their little toy, Tommy turned it on and attached his lips to her neck. Her eyes closed at the exquisite combination, nibbles soothed by his gentle tongue, followed by wet kisses.

In feather-like movements, he teased her nipples with the vibrator. He wasn't particularly fond of the loud sound, but he was of the sweet moans he heard when it came to play.

She barely realized when they started to leave her lungs, Tommy couldn't waste the opportunity to point out, "Not so stressed now, eh?"

"Hm-hmm," she denied.

"Does it feel good, love?" he whispered, lips brushing against her ear.

"Hm," finally opening her eyes, she pleaded, "want you, Tom,"

With a mix of scoff and laugh, Tommy put the vibrator away and laid down on the bed, "C'here,"

Taking her panties off, she placed one knee on each side of his head, at full display for him. She gripped on the headboard feeling his warm breath against her.

He affectionately stroked her hips at the same time kisses were placed on her inner thighs, a playful bite made her gasp with laughter which was quickly interrupted by the feeling of his warm mouth.

Tommy dragged his tongue through her wet folds, tasting her entry before moving to her swollen clit. Wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, he switched between licking and gently sucking.

His strong hands pulled her further into his face and instinctively, her hips moved searching for more. As his name poured from her lips in weak moans, she moved forward trying to get him on her entry again, he obliged, teasing her needy hole before giving her pussy an appreciative kiss.

Suddenly, Tommy stopped, contanting himself with tracing her inner lips with feather-like touches.

"Tom?" she asked, confused and slightly frustrated with the lack of touch.

"It's alright," he soothed, "I got you,"

Pushing two fingers into her, he resumed his movements, this time the double pleasure got louder moans from her. His fingertips brushed the perfect spot on her insides and the coldness of his wedding ring added an even better touch, she felt herself soaking up his hand and chin.

The sweet tightness of an orgasm started to grow on her stomach, resting her cheek on the headboard, her hips moved in small circles trying to get all the pleasure her man provided.

She took a hand to Tommy's head, holding into his soft hair, the raspy groan he left out against her pussy was enough to send her over the edge. She couldn't control the urge of fucking his face through the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

He kept going until she started panting and finally feeling her eyelids heavy. Every ounce of stress or energy left her body and she moaned a spoiled sound, expressing how satisfied she was. Tommy should have stopped by then, he didn't.

Guiding her arms behind her back, he simply ordered her not to move, there was no need for physical restraint, her unquestionable obedience was enough. Pulling the hood of her clit, he left her completely exposed, flapping his tongue on her reddish tip.

"Tommy, please," she whined, "please, please please, it's sensitive,"

Tommy chuckled hearing her pathetic begging, dragging his tongue to her soaked entry and finishing his short torture sucking her lips together.

With two little smacks on her ass, he allowed her to get off his face. She moved down to his hips, comfortably sitting before laying down on his chest with her eyes closed.

"Want to sleep now?" he whispered.

"No," she quietly answered, "still want you,"

"Yeah? You're sleepy, I can tell,"

"Hmmm," she complained, "want you, Tom,"

"I know, love, but looks like you're already sleeping,"

"Hm,"

"When you wake up I'll give you what you want, alright?"

She took a moment to considerate his offer, then finally agreed, "Hmm,"

Kissing her forehead, Tommy stroked her lower back until he heard low snores coming from her. With a small smile, he carefully got out of bed, covering her naked body with a blanket before leaving the room.

He still had paperwork to make, this time without worrying about her.

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders smut #modern!tommy shelby #modern!AU #reader insert

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messyemmy · 2 years ago

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Masks On (Harry Styles x reader x smut).

Premise: Harry finally visits a sex club and what are the chances, you just so happen to be doing the same thing.

Word Count: 8k+ / Other Writing

Warnings: Smut from start to finish. P in V, Unprotected sex, literally all the sex things, just pure FILTH. Afab 2nd person (minimal OC description).

Also, shout-out to @justmeinatree for the encouragement and @caramello-styles for being such a sweetheart!

🍒

Harry feels the energy shift as soon as he steps out from the mass of thick, velvet curtain that worked to shield the utter filth that lay just beyond. The club- as referred to, looks more like a converted condo, with walls dyed with deep hues, ultraviolet lights instead of harsh bulbs, and purple and red bounce across the room- the floors, the ceilings.

Though the room is busy, everyone is scattered, and it feels spacious enough. Harry observes the array of beds and sofa’s instead of tables and chairs; people are going at it, moans mixing in with the deep bass emitted from nearby speakers.

Patrons- dressed in only bowties and Grecian inspired masks, carrying trays of beverages and sex toys with a formality that seemed foolish for a play like this. The pretty penny Harry had paid to be here was clearly being put to good use.

The entire thing screamed ‘filthy rich fun’, which, even for Harry, seemed almost awestriking; it was the type of elite secrecy one would never dream of, and if he had any doubt about joining this evening, it was erased the minute a waiter appeared before him, offering up a glass of whisky he wasn’t even sure he had ordered.

To be fair, after such an effort to simply enter this place, plenty of hoops to jump through and many questions to be answered and confirmed, it only made sense that the owners would ensure it was more than worth it.

Harry put the crystal to his lips, downing its contents in an anxious bid for comfortability. Instead, it burned at his chest and sent a long shiver down his spine; he shuddered, his skin sprinkled with goosebumps.

Ridding himself of his blazer, white tank top, leather loafers, and other personal belongings when he arrived, assured they would stay safe in his absence, Harry now stands in only a pair of black briefs. They cling to his thighs, pinching at the meaty expanse of his soft skin, diffing into and trapping a few of the hairs growing at the base of his pelvis.

But Harry could be fully nude for all he cares- the platinum, Phantom of the Opera mask that covers the top half of his face and stops at the bridge of his nose has him feeling invincible and fucking frisky. He feels like the god he impersonates, ready to delve into the mass of bodies stroking and loving on one another, his cock twitching against the restricting cotton as confirmation.

The beds are king-sized, holding space for at least four, and a few are evidently occupied by many more than that. Sheer material is draped across the ceilings like a canopy, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Harry heads over to an empty velvet green chaise lounge, plopping down lazily, his legs spread out, thighs splayed, his one arm resting on the armchair, his other palm laying out across his lower stomach.

He turns his attention to the nearest bed, only a meter away, and begins watching as a throuple of two males and a female are switching positions. The girl lays on her stomach, flat against the bed, ass up, as the first man crawls up, spreads her ass cheeks apart and rubs his cock against her once before thrusting himself up into her. They reach a smooth rhythm, skin slapping as the second man lines up behind them, wrapping his arm around the torse of the first man; with a loud moan, the first man bucks forward, only moaning louder as the second man falls into position and starts fucking into him.

Harry hasn’t noticed the way his hand has lowered, palming himself through his briefs, his body shifting to get more comfortable. On the same bed, another couple goes at it, a woman vigorously bouncing atop the cock of a man donned in a lion mask.

In the midst of it all, bodies thrusting and shifting- you are resting sweetly, sitting atop your folded legs, disguised by a black, sequined silver mask, stopping above the nose, your eyes so sharp that Harry spots them immediately, hooked on the way the fluorescent lights flicker the reflection of filth he has succumbed to. His first thought is about who you are, his second is why you’re currently here, and the third is the only one that really matters; how the hell can he get his hands on you?

Dressed in only your underwear, you have had your gaze set on Harry from the moment the curtains had pulled back and revealed him in all of his glory. He was a mass of chocolate curls and tattoos decorating a chiselled and muscular figure that had you wishing you could get your hands on.

For a while, he had seemed nervous, and that only had your curiosity blowing through the roof, your body aching to wrap around any part of him up for grabs. As he made his way over, your heart was in your throat, attention completely thrown from the couple you had intended to participate with just moments prior. They were going at it regardless, bumping up against you, but your focus would be unwavering, your mouth watering at the view of his thighs, thick and spread out just for you.

He seems to be looking your way- maybe just observing the other couples, but something tells you by the way his body shifts, his eyes hidden but holding your own gaze, makes you feel like he might want you just as you want him.

A woman, her hair long and auburn, hidden behind a green dragon mask, drops onto the bed beside you, her knees softly hitting the mattress as she whispers suggestively into the shell of your ear. Cheeks flushed, your gaze remains on Harry, with the way he managed to stir such wanting in you, all by just sitting across the room.

His intrigue seems to pique, waiting to see what your plan was- were you going to entertain the woman next to you? Her cool fingers tickling their way up your spine, your body an eruption of goosebumps.

And you wish he would just come over or that you had the confidence to greet him yourself, but he seems comfortable and unwavering, leaving you to turn your attention back to something actually tangible; the woman currently pressing her lips to the nape of your neck.

Shifting your body to greet her own, you sit up on your knees and boldly wrap your hands like a chain around the back of her neck. She leans into your touch, anticipating your next move, a soft gasp escaping her lips as yours pressed on firmly, tongue licking into her own.

Your eyes have fluttered shut, your body soothed into the sultry kisses sucking at your bottom lip, but your thoughts wander over to the man on the couch, hoping to some god that he might be watching, that he might be regretting the choice to stay put.

Lips parting for deep inhalation, the woman’s hands are soft and static as they trail the soft mounds of your skin, and when your eyes finally open in the hopeful search of the man, you are more than surprised to find him much closer now, standing at the end of the bed.

His gaze is certainly set on your own, and you want to feel bashful at the circumstances, but the erotic stimulation happening all around you and the way Harry is looking at you hungrily, his muscles flexing involuntarily, only dampens your panties further, has your thighs clenching tighter.

He must notice because his pupils are blown, and he is crawling over now, slowly stalking out his prey, happily trapped in the arms of an auburn woman. He is more than welcome, though, your back pressing into the woman's chest, her lips still tickling at your throat, and when he comes to a halt at the base of your knees, you feel zero embarrassment as they part as a welcoming gift, offering him anything he desires.

“Well, hello pretty girl.” He greets, his cock throbbing as your chest raises and you take a sharp inhale, blinking at him in a way that has him feeling like a sinner- and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Hi handsome.” You respond, doing your best to keep your voice from cracking, almost completely distracted by the look of arousal in his eyes that seems to be increasing at just the sound of your voice, like a siren song only luring him further into the ocean in which you resided.

Harry can hardly stop himself from sighing out, from snatching you up and fucking you into submission, instead taking his time in luring you closer, his cock pleased at the ease with which you opened up for him, mind a mess of where to start.

He taps your thigh as an instruction, satisfaction shivering at his spine as you comply, spreading your legs, bum pressed flat to the mattress. Harry can't stop himself from wrapping his palms around your ankles, tugging you forward with enough force to have you exhaling a squeak, the woman’s grip tightening around your chest.

He looks at you like you are supper, his hands trailing their way up your calves, stroking slowly; as he reaches your thighs, he gives them a selfish squeeze, crawling his way over until he is almost face-to-face with the white lace of your panties.

His breath is cool as it fans over the heat of your lower abdomen, legs threatening to quake, and his grip only tightens, his stern stare never wavering, watching your every breath, the way your chest rises and falls in anticipation.

With the gentlest of kisses to your panty-clad crotch, you cannot withhold the deep sigh that slips past your lips, a keen whine whistling its way over to him, his stomach clenching, blood rushing to his cock. Harry’s tongue slips past his plump lips, licking a firm strip up your damp lace, his mouth watering in synch.

His left hand finds a firm home on your hip, helping to keep you pinned between the bed and his touch; his right-hand trails tauntingly along your sternum, fingers dancing into the dip of your belly button, playing your hipbones and pelvis like a harp before a sudden gush of coolness catches you off guard and his thumb hooking into the slit of your panties, tugging them aside in one firm go.

Your eyes widen with lust, unable to look anywhere but at the holy sight below you; the woman cradling your torso presses her lips wherever space omits, travelling in search of the mounds of your breasts, and your entirety is begging to turn to mush in the arms of pleasure as Harry leans forward and gives your pussy the gentlest of kisses, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses another, then another, his tongue joining in to lap at you, dipping into you.

He holds you in place with ease- where the hell would you rather be right now? And as the auburn woman latches her teeth around your pebbled nipple, your leg’s part even further- if possible- prompting Harry to release you from his prior grip, to hold you at the waist, his body pressed into the mattress, his cock flush and swollen from even the slightest of friction.

He can't stop from thrusting forward as a soft mewl slips past the gaps in your teeth, tongue pressing into you, gliding up your slit, flicking at your clit before his free hand cannot help but join the mix, massaging at your inner thigh, teasing at you as you buck your hips up in anticipation.

It's difficult to keep from sighing out in pleasure, but you try your best, harshly capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, tugging harder as Harry continues licking into you, flattening his tongue, flicking it against your clit, dipping into your entrance.

He has died and gone to heaven; his chin is coated in you, glistening under the neon lights, and with one hand still stroking and squeezing at your inner thigh, Harry uses the other to hook into the bands of your panties, hastily guiding them down the hills and valleys of your body and you assist, ass raising from the mattress, balancing on one leg as he slides the material along and off of your skin.

Discarded and dismissed, you are bare and spread for him, a sight Harry will be committing to memory, and he looks at you hungrily- you’re ready to be ravished.

Your pussy is practically dripping, and Harry’s hand must be possessed because it reaches out, and his finger glides through your slit, quickly dampening. The sigh you release is almost sinister, and Harry has his face buried between your thighs in an instant.

With his tongue licking at you, the almost forgotten auburn woman is still trailing kisses along your neck, her fingers tweaking and squeezing at the skin of your breasts. You are officially a mess of pleasure, ready to beg for more- anything- all of him.

It’s like he reads your mind as his fingers start to tease at your pussy, rubbing back and forth, his tongue focusing on your clit, swirling circles, his middle finger slipping past your entrance with such ease that Harry mutters, “fuck me” and lets it slide all the way in, curling upward. With such positive reception from yours truly, he keeps at it, all of his focus dedicated to pleasing you.

With the way his one finger becomes two, pumping into you with such vigour, you are writhing beneath him, thighs threatening to clamp around his head like earmuffs, blocked by his one hand keeping you put.

Your head starts to lull back into the auburn woman’s lap, but Harry is quick to correct this, pulling out his fingers completely, sticky and wet, his mouth changing from loving on you to scolding,

“Uh, uh.” He taunts, his brows furrowed, “Eyes on me, princess.”

You do everything in your power to comply, staring at him with all your might as he gets back to work, a satisfied smile still lingering on his lips as his tongue laps at your pussy, his fingers fucking back into you, curling, picking up the pace.

His fingers are in complete rhythm with his tongue- they are on a mission. And by the sounds currently escaping your lips, chest rising and falling needily, Harry is certainly succeeding.

But each moment that passes is becoming agonizing for him, desperate to substitute his fingers for his cock, currently aching to bury itself inside you.

Harry tries to pacify his cock by grinding up against the mattress, but this only has him moaning against your pussy, which in turn has you doing the same, your hands fisting the sheets.

He can no longer hold on, flattening his tongue to give you one last good licking before he removes his fingers and then himself, leaving you in absolute awe and confusion- a spark of panic flashing across your features.

Harry doesn’t want to startle you, but you can't stop the yelp that escapes you as his hands wrap around your ankles, and with one tug, you are before him, his face aligned with your torso.

He stands, holding out his hand to assist you in doing the same. You do, and once your feet are safely planted on the floor, Harry’s hands are kneading at your waist and hips. He permits you a moment to stabilise before his hands find the back of your thighs, and he hoists you up into your arms, legs wrapping around his waist.

Pussy bare and pressed against his torso, the five-step walk over to the sofa feels endless, so when he finally sits, safely cradling your back, you lower with him, coming to a rest atop his cool thighs, knowing he will be slick with wet by the time you’re finished with him.

Arms wrapped loosely across his shoulders, your fingers play with the loose curls at the base of his neck, and you lean, the outline of your mask bumping up against his own as you finally retrieve what you’ve been after all along, pressing your lips to his, tongue taking out all of your prior frustrations as it tangles with his own, scrapes along his teeth, traps and tugs his bottom lip until he is left begging for breath, lips plump and freshly-stung.

Going in for more, your palms find the sides of his face, sandwiching him between lustrous kisses, your chest pressing to his own, a whine bubbling at your throat when his grip tightens, holding you hostage and creating a gap just small enough for his hands to slip from their place on your back and to cup your breasts, squeezing and palming them as his tongue continues to lap at your own.

With the feeling of your nipples perking up so nicely beneath his thumbs, Harry cannot resist the urge to start trailing sloppy kisses along the nape of your neck, your clavicle, his open mouth leaving a trail as it makes its way down your chest, his tongue licking at the valley of your breasts before his lips finally catch your nipple, flicking at it, your body arching back desperately, pleading for more.

With a harsh nip, his tongue soothes your swollen skin, his hands squeezing at the mounds of your breasts, and your body has a mind of its own now, jutting up against him, your pussy sad to be met with only the friction of his briefs, desperate to grind your wetness across his cock, feel him slipping between your folds.

After the third time, your body glides down into contact with his own, a frustrated sigh slipping past your lips; Harry seems to catch on and woefully unlatches his mouth from your skin, but with more than just happiness, he shifts beneath you- and you also shift to allow him better access- his fingers hooking into the bands of his briefs, tugging them down in one swift motion to settle around his mid-thighs.

His cock springs up, swollen with relief and flush with freedom. Your gaze never wavers, hyper-focused on how pretty the man sitting beneath yours truly is- all of him is just too good to be true at this point.

You want to spend eternity, or at least a moment, marvelling and taking him all in, but he is closer than ever, and your pussy is clenching at just the sight of him- practically screeching to have him buried deep inside you.

With that, you reach out and give him one mandatory stroke, to soothe both him and yourself, and by the way his mouth parts, his eyes hooded, body jolting and then relaxing back into your touch, you sling your leg over his lap to straddle him, his face level with your chest, his hands instinctively coming to a rest on the pillows of your hips.

Your arms become a noodle around his neck like in preparation for dancing the salsa, your hips rocking forward without hesitation, pussy skating along the length of his shaft, leaving him slick with just one stroke.

Harry doesn’t even try to stop the string of mutters he sings out into the crevasse of your breasts, breath fanning chills all along your skin just as your hips buck again, sliding up against him, squeaking out as the tip of his cock rubs up against your clit.

You push on into an agonisingly slow rhythm, dragging out each stroke until Harry is so frustrated that he works extra hard to avoid rutting up into you- oddly satisfied letting you take the lead- so his mouth begins leaving sloppy kisses along your chest, your shoulders, the creases of your neck. And whilst the idea of holding onto this sense of control was something you really wanted to indulge in, you cannot stop your body from picking up speed, ever so slightly upping the rhythm.

Harry is struggling to keep himself from turning the two of you over and fucking you into the sofa cushions, taking out his agitation by unexpectedly spitting on your chest, and both of your gazes drop to watch as the dribble of spit travels like a delicate stream down the valley of your breasts, meandering towards your bellybutton.

You rut up against him with force now, pupils swelled and hungry. At the last minute, Harry commands his pelvis not to thrust, taking a section of skin on your breast between his front teeth, nipping and sucking at it until it stings, giving you one last tug before pulling back, his tongue slipping out to softly lap at the blooming bruise. Tiny and speckled with red and purple, this mark will serve as a reminder of the scandalous events of this evening.

More so, this mark is the last straw, your lips angrily finding his own, tongues arguing for domination- Harry’s succumbs the second one of your hands reaches down between your laps, grabbing at his cock and guiding him into you without a second thought.

You take him in with ease, but he is a stretch the further you slide down on him, your belly feeling full as your body finally comes to a sitting on his cock. Harry’s head has tilted back, his eyes fluttering open and shut.

He wants to thrust up, he wants to watch your breasts and body bounce about atop of his cock, needs to see the way your skin jiggles and stretches for him, the way your face crinkles up in pleasure and satisfaction… but Harry lets you do anything you want, lets himself be at your mercy.

And fuck, you make the idea of losing control feel really good, raising your body until only his tip remains inside of you, threatening to leave him out in the cold, but at the last moment, you grind back down, letting him fill you up gluttonously, easily finding a groove, your backside slapping against his thighs, skin-to-skin creating the beat of a drum, and with each smack, you only want to go faster, harder, unable to resist the need to tease and drag things out.

Harry is a mess of moans, only making you feel like you are being cheered on during a marathon, encouraging you to up your stamina and reach the finish line in record time. His hands are all over you, tugging you closer, one hand wrapping tighter around your waist, guiding you up and down his cock, desperate to hear you whine louder, to let others know how good it felt to be riding him. And you want everyone to know, too; you want them to know that they could all leave, and you would be more than happy to just let Harry spend the rest of the evening fucking you into a semi-permanent coma.

Harry shifts, spreading his legs to offer you a new angle, ready to drool as a dragged-out sigh slips out from deep within you, and he knows he’s just hit a good spot.

So, as any good boy would, Harry bucks up into you again and again, motivated by each moan, putting his all into making you sing for him, your hand digging into his biceps, then his back, down his torso, squeezing at his thighs as your stomach starts to clench, heart rate picking up and when you start to feel lightheaded, you welcome the wave of euphoria threatening to wash over- you hear nothing but the soft praises Harry mutters for your pleasure, your body grinding down on his pelvis desperately chasing your high, whining out as his hand spreads your cheeks, guiding you through a long-anticipated orgasm.

Coming down, your head slumps against his damp shoulder, cheek pressing into his warm, soft skin. You can hear his heartbeat; it’s as fast as your own- if not faster; his breaths are scattered, and Harry wonders what will happen next.

He wants to revel in the moment but is hit with disappointment as you slowly and carefully guide him out of you, and he wants to hiss out at the cruel loss of contact.

Your leg swings over and off of his lap, standing tall and gazing down at him with a curious brow furrow that has Harry ready to question his entire existence, but when your arm extends out to him, offering to wrap his hand in your own, Harry feels butterflies beating at his belly, and he accepts in an instant, ridding himself of his briefs, tossing them aside with little to no regard before grabbing your hand, feeling fuzzy at the visual of how small it looks cradled in his own.

Trailing behind you, willing to let you drag him just about anywhere, it seems you have targeted a bed sitting empty in a quaint corner of the room.

But your ass is bouncing with each step you take, and with gravity offering him such a gracious gift, Harry's hand reaches out with the need to grab, settling with a soft slap to your left cheek, a chuckle slipping past his lips as you let out a little whimper of surprise, body jolting forward, thighs jiggling for his absolute pleasure, and all thoughts of the bed are forgotten as Harry pushes your bodies into the nearest pillars. The look in your eyes adjusts from surprise to arousal at the newfound feeling of your body being backed up into the icy marble, turning into a tornado as Harry's simmering skin keeps you mounted like a shiny trophy.

Harry thinks he's really got you now, your skin so silky, your muscles contracting against his own, keening into his hold, lashes batting up at him like he holds the keys to the garden of Eden; with softness, he presses a breathy kiss to your own parted lips, and now that he has you so perfect and patient, he hasn't the faintest clue where to start.

It would be polite to give him a moment to gather his thoughts, perhaps plot his next move, but you know exactly what you want- no, need- next, and with Harry's head so preoccupied with the idea of you that his hold isn't strong enough to stop you from slipping out from his trap, turning around, your palms pressing flat to your chest as you gift him a gentle, but firm push, his back smacking into the same marble you had just escaped.

Harry feels awestruck, unsure what to think, but his cock is certainly pleased, throbbing at the unfamiliar shift in dynamic, desperate to see what you might do next. And when his eyes, swollen with lust, focus on your own, there is a glimmer of certainty that has him almost keeling over; the need to get on his knees and beg for you is killing him.

But it seems that you are the one who will be on your knees as you keep one palm against his chest, unsure of whether he's willing to stay put, and your body drops to the floor, knees happily greeting the tiles.

With your left hand still holding him in place and your right hand coming to a rest on his waist, fingers squeezing into his fleshy cheeks, Harry's head lulls black in bliss, throat bobbing, both of his hands casting a shadow over your own, wrapping around your wrists like pretty bracelets.

Leaning forward ever so sweetly, your lips pucker and place a polite kiss on the tip of his cock. Harry's hips buck forward without his consent, and your hand leaves his chest, gliding lazily down his torso until it comes to rest on his shaft.

Thoughts of how perfectly he fits between your fingers are blurring your vision, but at the sound of Harry pathetically hissing from above, your grip tightens, body shuffling closer, his own hand settling like a scarf around the back of your neck. His hand stays statuesque, unsure of pushing your boundaries and frightened of catching your hair in one of his many rings. But when you reassuringly nuzzle your crown into his palm, Harry finally relaxes, his fingers- still carefully- slip into and massage the hair at the base of your neck.

You’ve got him right where you want him, and there’s no time to waste as you close the last of any remaining space, bowing forward and closing in like at communion, mouth opening, ready for the catholic wafer but instead closing your lips over the tip of his cock, your tongue darting out to swirl at his head and loving the way he tries to resist bucking into you, stop himself from hitting the back of your throat.

Just the idea has you dripping, fulfilling the desire to take him further in your mouth, your free hand slowly pumping his cock, holding him in place as you suck him, slowly taking in as much as you can manage before slowly pulling back, letting your tongue trail along his shaft in your wake.

Right as Harry begins to fear that you might release and leave him high and dry, you swallow him again, bobbing and creating a rhythm, a small sliver of spit slipping past your lips as you take him as far as your mouth will permit, tongue lapping at him, your hand pumping the base of him as Harry huffs and puffs above you.

And when you can’t help but glance up at him from beneath hooded lashes, the way Harry cusses out and rolls his head back against the pillar is enough to have you picking up the pace, swallowing him with vigour, desperately trying to fit as much of him possible into the hollows of your cheeks.

Slowly, your head begins to bob, taking all of his cock in before pulling back, then again, and again, your hand still pumping him, spit gliding along his shaft and soaking your fingers.

You release his cock from your mouth, still gliding your hand back and forth, pumping him and peering up at him with doe-like eyes.

“Fuck.” Harry whines, the back of his head bumping against the pillar, “Y’gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

With a mischievous grin, you place a gentle but menacing kiss on the tip of his cock before flattening your tongue and licking his shaft from base to tip before taking all of him in your mouth once more, creating the perfect rhythm, your other hand leaving his thigh and cupping around his balls, massaging him, head grooving up and down his cock. Harry is a complete mess, his muscles flexing with each suck and release.

You guide his cock to the hollow of your left cheek, brushing him against your mouth before ever-so-softly gliding his head along your bottom teeth and rubbing him against your right cheek. He is still moaning above you, and when you suddenly tilt forward and take him so deep that his cock brushes the back of your throat, Harry is cussing out, his hand tightening around the base of your neck.

You lean your head back into his palm as a form of encouragement, and Harry thinks you may be the most perfect creature of planet Earth itself. He cautiously begins guiding your head, testing the waters as he becomes a guide for his cock, sliding into your mouth.

Happy to oblige, you try to remain as still as possible, your pussy throbbing each time he brushes against your throat, and when you almost gag, Harry has officially died and gone to heaven. His pace quickens, forcefully- but so carefully- bucking into you, loving how soft and plump your lips are, how well you take him- how deep.

The thought of his cum dripping down your chin has him in utter shambles, and that is not how he wants this evening to go- yet. So, with one last thrust and grunt, he ruefully removes himself, hissing at the rush of cool air that greets his tip and almost crying at the sight of the string of spit connecting from your lips and his cock.

Using the back of your hand to dismiss the spit, you peer up at him curiously, rather proud of your work but still hoping to have more of him.

Harry guides your head as a gesture, hissing at the rush of air that greets the tip of his cock, and this only causes his impulses to increase- so, as soon as you have found your feet and are looking up at him with blown-out pupils and puffy pink lips, Harry finally reclaims control, his hands wrapping you up and spinning you around in one swift motion and you are now facing the pillar, your palms pressing flat against the cool surface.

His hands find your hips, thumbs pressing into your fleshy skin and, on instinct, your back arches, ass desperate to press up against him. Harry releases his right hand from your hip, wrapping it around his stiff shaft and guiding it towards your entrance. Ass up, spine curved, your breasts press into the icy pillar, your body scooting up against the pelvis, and when the head of his cock glides along your pussy, just stopping short of your entrance, you moan out enthusiastically.

Harry gives you one last tease, his tip slipping into you before pulling back out, but before you have the opportunity to whine out, he thrusts into you, and instead, you arch out for him even more, sighing out, breasts squishing into the pillar.

He guides his cock in and out, painfully persevering, taking his damn time, but after a third deep and forceful thrust, you shuffle back into him impatiently, and Harry wants to chuckle aloud at your lack of patience now that he has you pressed up against him.

But your neediness is too tantalising to resist; Harry can’t stop his hips from bucking up into you, almost drooling at the hum of satisfaction you reward him with as he thrusts again, this time harder, his arm reaching around to rest his palm on your stomach, keeping you pinned as he proceeds to fuck into you.

Harry keeps going, huffing in sync with each thrust, his stomach clenching as you mewl against him, your palms pressing into the pillar and holding on for dear life. His hand slides down from your stomach to the back of your right thigh, raising it until your knee bumps up against the marble, and when he’s certain you plan on keeping it there, he releases your leg and proceeds to pound into you, his hand snaking around until it finds your pussy, fingers gliding along your wetness, seeking out louder moans, desperate whines.

And you are- unable to hold yourself back any longer, overcome with the electric current coursing through you with each thrust, each time his thumb brushes against your clit. You are chasing another orgasm, pushing your palms against the pillar in an attempt to get closer to him.

Harry kindly obliges, pressing his chest into your back, pulling you flush against his damp and flexed torso as he keeps at it, bucking up into you with all of his willpower, hands grabbing at you, adamant to have you as near as possible.

Right as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge for a second time in just minutes, Harry interrupts by pulling out and wrapping you up in his arms and hastily turning you around to face him. Concern flashes across his features as your back bumps up against the pillar, but when you only whine out, your left leg lifting up, calf wrapping around his waist, Harry guides his cock back into you, bucking up with commitment and determination to have you come unravelled against him once more.

And you are unravelling, chemistry at play as your body becomes a mix of ecstasy and euphoria. You are grabbing at every part of him, never wavering for too long, tugging at his hair, squeezing at his biceps, pressing your pelvis up against his own. Harry is doing the same, feeding off of your needy whines, unsaid pleas for him to keep going, and when you can’t help but turn them into verbal pleas, asking him so sweetly to fuck you “just like that”, he is in an absolute state,

“Yeah?” He confirms- only for the sake of hearing you speak up again,

“Yeah.” You stutter out, nails digging into the nape of his neck, scraping along his shoulder.

Harry is enamoured, you’re being such a good girl for him, and he wants to reward you for being so. But he also wants to be a little testy and has the urge to see how much nicer you’re willing to be for him, so he deems it necessary to hold out on you a tad longer.

He wraps his arm around the middle of your back, pressing you into him, and he bows his head and leans in as close to your ear as possible, his warm breath fanning over the nook of your neck and clavicle, ensuring you hear him loud and clear,

“Ask me nicely.”

Your head snaps up, looking at him with incredulity, but too desperate to do anything other than give him what he wants. One of your hands finds his torso, palms trailing along his chest as your other hand tightens around his neck in physical protest, which is the last thing that would ever slip past your lips. Trying your best to give him your politest plea, your mouth plump and puckered, mousey eyes flickering playfully up at him,

“Pretty please.”

And that’s all Harry needs, thrusting into you with repayment, revelling in the way your body accepts his reward so enthusiastically. He picks up the pace, pounding into you and making certain that you are more than welcome to come undone all over him,

“Such a good girl for me.”

You’re nodding at him desperately, body crumbling with each praise he is granting you, and when his palm slips down between your bodies, landing on your pussy and lazily swirling loops atop your clit, you are a shaking mess- in a frenzy and falling over the edge, coming all over his cock, softly chanting, “yes, yes.”

“So, so good.” He reminds you, holding onto you, keeping you secure and satisfied. He can feel the familiar stirring in his stomach, his cock twitching and tempted to come all over you.

But there’s no way he’s done with you, and he cannot fathom finishing now.

Your bucking has slowed, head lulling into the crook of his neck, trying to steady your breathing, and instead of giving in to an impending orgasm, Harry pats your bum firmly, wrapping an arm around your thigh, encouraging you to jump up into his arms.

He is still fully inside you and doesn’t plan on changing that, effortlessly guiding you up into his arms, one of his hands still on your backside, the other cradling your back. With great care, Harry starts to walk, staying slow and peering over his shoulder to make sure he’s going in the right direction.

Thankfully, the pillar was already the halfway point to the bed you had targeted earlier, and with your lips lazily trailing kisses along his torso, your nails digging into his back, Harry was overjoyed when his feet bumped into the base of the bed.

Impressively, he bows forward- your bodies still bound- his knees denting the mattress, lowering your bodies onto the bed until your back is pressed into the sheets and Harry is hovering over you, balancing on his forearms, his forehead brushing against your own.

“Ready to go again, princess?” His cool breath fans across your features, and you are nodding as if your life depends on it, your pelvis bucking up against him.

Harry’s brows furrow in amusement, his head bowing, lips brushing up against the shell of your ear, “Use your words, lovely.”

“Fuck.” You huff out, your right leg tightening around his waist, one of your hands digging into his bicep and the other tugs at his hair, “Please.” And just so he really gets the message, you add, “I want you.”

“Want me to what?” He drawls, tongue tickling your neck as one of his hands massages your breast.

“Fuck me.” Your reply is emotionless, stern and impatient, “Want you to fuck me.”

“Sassy little one, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles, squeezing your thigh endearingly.

You roll your eyes as if he hasn’t just stated the obvious, lifting your pelvis up to rub against him. His pupils are blown, and you want him inside of you- now.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” you ponder, nails dragging along his shoulder, “Or do I need to find someone else?” there is nobody alive that you could want more than him; he should know this from the way you are so eager to please him, but the mere suggestion has Harry thrusting into you mercilessly.

You whine out in both stupor and ecstasy, your back arching off of the bed, your breasts pressing into his chest. With one of his arms still holding him in place, Harry’s free hand comes up to cradle your face, your foreheads slick with sweat and sticking together.

His hands are about as big as your head, and that alone contributes to the next sigh you release, bucking up into him, meeting his thrusts in the middle, your pelvises slapping into one another.

Harry marvels at the way your bodies seem to so easily find a rhythm each time like you were made for him, and he for you. His thrusts are deep and with intention, stretching your pussy with satisfaction.

“Christ.” He huffs in astonishment, “Y’ feel so fuckin’ good.”

You can only moan out in agreement, at a complete loss for words. The only thing you feel is satisfaction sparking throughout your wholeness, and the only other thing you can think about is how badly you wish you knew his name- hoping to call it out to him as he pounds into you, desperate to reward him for doing such a good job.

Harry can't remember ever feeling so engaged in fucking someone- was there a time? Nothing before or after this moment matters; he could now die a happy man. You feel so warm and worked-up, pressed into him, grabbing at any part of him available for the taking.

He wants to let you, doesn’t mind if you spend hours or even days exploring him, poking and prodding his limbs and skin for reactions, having him like putty in your hands- all yours.

“More.” You huff out when it seems that Harry is getting caught up in his thoughts, and he thrusts into you so generously that your head lulls back to greet the mattress.

But now you are too far away for Harry’s liking; he needs to see those pretty eyes and pretty flushed cheeks, needs to see how good of a job he’s doing at pleasing you. His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your head back up, his lips waiting to latch onto your own.

Breathy kisses become open-mouthed ones. Harry’s tongue is dancing all along your mouth, biting on your lip and sucking on your tongue. Still, in a battle of kisses, Harry’s hand sweeps along your face and his pointer finger slips into your mouth. You suck on him like you were born solely for this purpose, and it’s Harry’s turn to stop his head from rolling back.

He keeps on at it, licking into your mouth while his cock rams into you relentlessly, each thrust accompanied by skin slapping, deep moans, hums of satisfaction and a stirring in your chest that only increases as Harry bends your leg and pins it to your chest, fucking into you from an angle that feels so good that you begin slipping away into a realm of pure pleasure.

“Like that?” Harry pants out, each thrust more purposeful than the last.

“Just like that.” You nod vigorously with gratefulness.

“Good girl.” He praises with a sloppy kiss, “Look so good like this.”

Harry keeps thrusting, and it’s not long before the look on your face starts morphing with frustrated delight, your eyes threatening to squeeze shut. But you don’t want to look away, instead glancing between your grooving bodies, in awe of the sight of his cock coated with all of you, pumping in and out so gracefully.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He is kissing your neck, tongue wet and trailing along your skin.

And that is all you need to guide you back into another orgasm, your hips raised off of the bed and grinding up against his pelvis in a circular motion, hands holding onto him for dear life.

Harry groans, almost growls out, pushing into you, trying to pull you closer than physically possible, “Just like that, sweetheart.” You are definitely a sucker for his praises, desperate for more, and he obliges, “So good for me.”

With a surprising twist, Harry is forced to confront his impending orgasm as you pose a rather prolonged request, “Want you to cum for me.”

He wants to panic, the thought of this being over is simply heinous, but you only chuckle at the obvious distress beginning to warp his features and reassure him, “I still have plenty in store for you.” And for good measure, you add, “Unless you can’t… keep up.”

Harry knows you’re only taunting him for the fun of it, but the suggestion is obscene, and he seeks to prove you wrong. You are still grinding up against him, whimpering at the sensitivity, nevertheless needy for more, so he picks up the pace, ramming into you with everything he has to offer, his arm bending further into the bed to get closer, and your arms wrap around him to assist, tugging him flush against you, teeth nipping at his neck.

“Gonna let me swallow you, pretty boy?” You blink up at him innocently, “Wanna taste you so badly.”

His thrusts are getting sloppier, slower and more determined. Now that the offer of an orgasm is on the table, lying beneath him, so pretty and so tasty, Harry can’t resist pushing into you harder, deeper, grunting and huffing along, skin shivering at the feel of your nails tickling at his torso.

And when you tilt your head and aim your teeth for his ear, nipping his earlobe only to soothe it with the flick of your tongue, you ask one more time, “Pretty please.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Is all Harry can muster in between a mess of moans, struggling to keep his weight from coming down on you, his free hand wrapping around your waist to hold you still, his cock wailing for release.

And he gets exactly what he’s been searching for, thrusting into you once more, treasuring it as he pulls out, stroking at his cock as the two of you shuffle around and you are quickly on your knees, mouth spread wide, tongue flat and pushing past your lips.

Harry doesn’t think he has ever seen something- someone- so beautiful, and he doesn’t stop thinking this as he starts to cum, spilling onto your tongue, his cock throbbing at the sight of you swallowing him so kindly, at the glistening of your swollen lips, the bobbing of your throat.

You wear your satisfaction with pride, and for the first time, you wonder if Harry actually can keep up. He hadn’t said so, in words, at least. But he is still close and starts edging closer, desperate to have his hands back on you. He gets what he wants, and you shuffle closer, following his gaze as it shifts to the nearest patron, using his free hand to gesture for their attention.

Before you get the chance to get too confused, the patron steps closer, and you can now clearly see the contents of his silver platter. Staring up at you is an array of toys, small and large, feathered or leather or even metal. You don’t even need to glance over at Harry to tell him you are definitely game, instead reaching out with an item already in mind.

Harry watches as you select your weapon of choice, turning back to him with satisfaction and a cheeky smile, the chosen toy on display is just begging to be played with, and it seems that both of you are ready to oblige.

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Forgive me for I am a sinner and I feel zero regrets. Hell can have me because I am DONE. I hope you guys enjoy this one! It's been a while since I've blessed the children with smut and I hope I have succeeded lmao. - Emmy. xo 💞

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