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weirdomellow · 2 months

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Delicious Words

It took me forever but here it is finally! I did a poll a while ago and Sexting with Ari got the most votes so here we go. This is not beta'd and just my thots put into words. As always, comments, reblogs (and likes) are welcome 🥰

18+ MINORS DNI!

Pairing: Dad's best friend Ari Levinson x female reader

Summary: Sexting with DBF Ari. You and your DBF Ari have missed each other like hell and so a few texts turn into delicious words that drive both of you insane.

[Reader is mid-20s, Ari is in his early 40s]

Warnings: masturbation (both male and female), phone sex, fingering, dirty talk, nude selfies, age gap dynamics (younger female, older dominating male, both of them are consenting adults), mention of unprotective sex (piv), orgasm denial mentioned, a bit of fluff and fuzzy feelings

Word Count: 1.2k

The sunset illuminated your room beautifully as you were lying on your back naked on the bed. The only thing - the only person - missing by your side was your DBF Ari, who also happened to be your lover for quite some time.

He was the reason you were single. You even turned down other guys your age who flirted with you. Some of them were hot but nothing compared to Ari. Your Ari... and nothing compared to how he ruined other men for you and how he ruined you each time you fucked each other’s brains out.

His beefy hairy body was all you craved for right now. You wanted to touch him, take him all in and feel his delicious fat cock.

Since he lived nearby, you two always found a way to sneakily meet but Ari has been on a business trip for 2 weeks and it was just annoying. The only solution right now was to text him.

Sexting was actually not your thing. But Ari made a lot of things possible and introduced new adventures to you. So, when he suggested sexting, you were startled but intrigued by the idea.

"I miss you Sir..." was the text you sent him on this calm evening. You needed him and you knew he was going to reply sooner or later. He was the one who brought it up and deep down you knew he needed you as well.

You managed to distract yourself for a while until you saw the message.

"I miss you too babygirl."

"Have you been a good girl?"

Whenever Ari was away on business trips, he had a rule for you: You were allowed to touch yourself but not bring yourself to orgasm unless he allowed you to. He even allowed you to bring yourself to the edge, but the climax was not allowed. Once, he half-joked that you could play with whomever you wanted but you had to tell them not to make you cum.

He was mean in a delicious way... and you loved him for this.

"Yes Sir, I did not even touch myself. I couldn't. I missed your fingers, your tongue, your cock."

"That's my good girl."

"Show me how you need me."

"Fuck." You whispered to yourself. Heat rushed to your cheeks and your whole body buzzed as you slowly pushed your middle and ring finger inside and tried your best to take a photo. "Well, it's shitty and blurry but will do." You thought to yourself as you clicked Send.

Right after your text, the phone rang. You reached for your Bluetooth headphones and answered the phone.

“I thought I would call you so we can y’know.. sext better” He chuckled lightly.

“Ah you are always ahead of me Mister” you giggled as your body reacted to his voice in a way you couldn't explain.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, your scent, your sweet pussy baby”. His deep voice and those words were enough to drive you crazy. You felt it there, the pool of your lust forming as you kept on playing with yourself.

“Ari, I missed you even more. It’s so boring here without you."

“Y/n.. you fucking drive me insane” he slightly whined. You knew he was also jerking off as you heard the slight rhythmic movement in the background. “You know what I would love to do? I would love to take you here, right now, in my hotel room, overlooking the city skyline. Bend you over and fuck you while we both watch the sunset. Ruin you until we fall asleep like we always do." You could feel his breathing becoming more primal. This urge to just take you and use you however he liked... it was electric and erotic.

“I… oh Ari, I am so close. I want to feel you in me.” you said, as you kept on fingering yourself faster. You could feel your whole body moving, your toes curling. A slight moan escaped your mouth. You wanted to be loud but you had to be careful since your parents were still downstairs. You increased your pace as you thrusted your fingers in and out, imagining them to be Ari’s cock. It didn’t compare but it was still something.

“Tell me… what did you dream of me while I was gone?”

"We were far away on a boat and you were fucking me bareback on an open sea." You said as you played those fantasies in your head over and over again. The idea of him pounding you raw has been on your mind even though you always used condoms.

“Oh fuck!” He was panting heavily. “I am coming Y/n. Fuck!” he moaned as you heard him – felt him – reached his climax.

You were so close and it dawned on you at that moment that you had to ask his permission, you huffed.

“Sir… can I come?”

“Fuck Y/n.. How can I say no? Come my sweet babygirl! Come for me."

You zoned out and brought yourself to climax with the nasty thoughts in your head and panted heavily. Your whole body was on fire as you tried to muffle your moans as much as possible.

“You still there?” you heard him ask from the depths of your zoned out mind. You lost touch of time, was it seconds or moments?

“Y..yeah” you tried to form coherent words. Then you saw it, the photo he sent of his hand wrapped around his cock and your panties. The ones he stole last time from you.

“You don’t have to send me a photo but thought I would show you how much of a mess I made” he said, his breathing turning to normal. You could feel him grinning on the other end of the phone.

“Well.. you owe me another pair of underwear Mr. Levinson.” you said as you giggled.

“Consider it done. As a matter of fact, let’s go lingerie shopping together once I am back. I heard a nice shop opened in the city, and they even have some sexy lingerie I would love for you try on." He said, his voice inviting and tempting.

“All the more reason for you to ruin more underwear.” you said as you smiled. A small silence. You sighed. "I can’t wait for you to be back, counting the days already.” You wanted to say those damn 3 words but maybe it was a bit too soon.

“I miss you too Y/n” he sighed. “I have to get ready for the dinner. Is it ok if we hang up? I will check up on you later.”

“Yes of course. Think of me the rest of the night."”

“Always”.

You both hung up the phone. Were you in love? Was this how it felt like? Or was it the rush of hormones? You tried to silence the thoughts in your head as you took a deep breath. Whatever this weird feeling was, it made you drunk… for him. You only hoped he felt the same way about you. Until then, you were going to enjoy this delicious thing you had going on with him and the many adventures you were going to go on.

The last moments of the sunset created the chance for an amazing photo and so you used this chance to take a post-orgasm selfie… and clicked Send with the Caption “Bon appetit Mr. Levinson❤"

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson imagines #dbf!ari levinson #dbf!ari levinson x female reader #dbf!ari levinson fan fiction #dbf!ari levinson x you #dbf!ari levinson x reader #dbf!ari

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alphajocklover · 5 months

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So I’m a gay guy in my early 30s but I find that I’m more attracted to mature men like in their 50s. There’s a guy I want to ask out by he’s a big muscle daddy in his 50s and that’s all he says he’s interested in. Do you think you could help me become the perfect mature hairy muscle man that he wants to marry?

Clive was literally everything you had ever wanted. Handsome, distinguished, muscular, he was exactly your type physically. A muscle Daddy. Having him as your roommate was driving you insane with lust. But your feelings for him were so much more than just physical, so much more than just lust. In the short time you had known Clive you had fallen head over heels in love with him. Everything about him made you weak in the knees, from the small habits he had, like slightly pulling on his silver beard when thinking, to the big things he did, like how considerate and caring he always was. Most people would feel awkward about having a roommate so much younger than they are, but he had always treated you like a friend and an equal. You wanted him more than anything. But… you knew he’d never love you back.

Clive was 25 years older than you, literally old enough to be your actual daddy, and he was well aware of the age difference. He never treated you like a kid, but he was a big believer in keeping sexual relationships within his own generation. If he was attracted to you, you knew he’d never act on it because he didn’t wanna be a creep. He always dated people closer to him in age, and seemed to have similar taste to you. All of his boyfriends were muscular, hairy, older gentleman. Muscle daddies. In other words, the opposite of you. You were, for lack of better words, a twink. You had tried to gain muscle, tried to grow more hair, even tried gaining weight, but you were one of those rare people who couldn’t put on weight instead of not being able to keep it off. So, you suffered in silence, the object of your affection so close but far, constantly pining. It was humiliating, and made you feel like some sort of pathetic schoolgirl, but… you couldn’t do anything to change the situation. You couldn’t change your feelings, you couldn’t change your body, you couldn’t even afford to move. You were stuck.

And then… you saw the ring. You don’t know how it happened. You can’t even remember why you walked past that jewelry store on your way to work. Usually you took a more direct route. But that day you walked past that new jewelry store, your eyes caught on something in the window. A simple diamond engagement ring. It wasn’t anything special. You shouldn’t have stopped and gone into the store. But you did. You shouldn’t have bought the shockingly cheap but beautiful ring. But you did. You shouldn’t have skipped work and headed back to your apartment to set up. But you did. And as you did, you changed. When you walked up the 7 floors to your apartment, you began to gain muscle slowly. A ridiculous amount of muscle, going from twink to twunk to jock to certified beef. When you entered the apartment and prepared a special bottle of wine you didn’t remember having before to (hopefully) celebrate, you gained a respectable smattering of hair all over your body, though the hair on your head seemed to shorten and fall away. As you ordered a beautiful bouquet of flowers and changed into an expensive suit you shouldn’t have been able to afford rent for a night but now remembered buying, you grew older, your hair becoming peppery and your muscles becoming thicker and more solid. By the time Clive opened the door, there you were: an older muscle daddy in a handsome suit, on one knee with love is your eyes.

Obviously Clive said yes. Afterall, you had been dating for 3 years now, living together for 2, and were perfect together. You were both head over heels for each other, in a good place financially (mainly due to your very well paying job as an executive), and you were ready for the next step. Before the wine you had bought was even half gone, Clive was stripping off your suit as you grinned happily. Clive was everything you had ever wanted. Well, almost. You had never expected to end up with someone younger than you, since you usually dated older men, but it was only a 2 year age difference, and it turned out you kind of liked being the older guy for once.

**Hey there! My first muscle daddy story. I usually write about jocks but I never turn down a challenge and like expanding my horizons. I hope I did a good job! I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to send me more story suggestions.**

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #reality change #retcon #muscle daddy tf #EB jewelry

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slamsuckingslut · 2 months

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r6 spetsnaz head canons (SLIGHT NSFW)

my 4 favorite beefy Russian men... Just little head canons i have about how they look (for tachanka and kapkan mainly, but glaz and fuze included anyway)

CREDIT TO ALL ARTISTS WHOS ART I HAVE USED IN THIS !!

TACHANKA / ALEXSANDR SENAVIEV

He most likely has graying hair, being in his 50s I believe?? Late 40s to early 50s, this man is graying, he's been through a divorce and has like 3 kids i think. His hair is a dark brown/black with gray streaks and roots, his eyebrows having already grayed with bits of black in them still. Very salt and peppered. He definitely isn't all muscle anymore in his older age, having a bit of pudge around his stomach, hips, chest and arms. Pretty much a super fucking muscular dad bod but better cause its our lord. He might have a few stretch marks hidden in the scars from battle on his body, but isn't ashamed if you point them out. I don't see him as the type to have a beard, maybe a mustache if you think about it too hard, but I'd guess clean cut just very stubbly. but LAWD he is most definitely hairy as hell everywhere else if we ignore the animation for his elite skin and how oiled up he looks... hnnggg.... BUT he most def has very hairy legs, some chest hair but not much, gotta show off the tats, and a happy trial. He is most def packing a monster and keeps his pubes slightly trimmed, just enough to be bearable, he's getting older, he cant be bothered to be as smooth shaven as when he was young.

10/10 would chew on him like a teething toy.

KAPKAN / MAXIM BUSADA

love of my life, apple of my eye, can do no wrong, babygirl... Okay so, he's in his late 30s, not so much graying yet but def getting there. He's got dark roots and light brown ends, most likely no beard just very long stubble. 5 o'clock shadow king. He's still quite fit, not as much squish as tachanka but most def still a bit squishable. he might have slight stretch marks around his arms or thighs. HE ALSO IS SO HAIRY. Literal Russian bear, okay?? This man is a hunter, he def stays hairy because quote, "A true hunter can be an animal himself." or some mystical quote about being a true hunter like that. But he's got hairy arms and legs, chest hair and a thick happy trail leading down to barely even trimmed pubes and again an absolute monster schlong. he seems like the type to go all natural with his shaving habits, only trimming it a bit if you ask. He most definitely has lots of scars around his body, and isn't afraid to tell you about them whenever you ask.

11/10, would put him in a jar and shake it around like he was a little bug.

GLAZ / TIMUR GLAZKOV

He's 30, and DAYUM does he look good.. his hair is black, you can tell that be looking at the obvious beard thing he's got. He doesn't seem like he'd be very hairy, being i think the youngest of the 4, he stays pretty clean shaven besides the beard. Not much body hair besides legs, arms, and a thin happy trail leading down to a medium monster and very well trimmed pubes. they aren't completely shaven, but are very short. He seems like he is mostly made of lean muscle, so he isn't the squishiest but is still very soft. I don't think he's really started to get stretch marks yet, but definitely has loads of scars, considers his body a canvas and the scars the art on it that tell the story, and of those stories he will only share a few with you if you ask cause most of them he doesn't really remember how he got either. Considering he's an artist, I like to think that he'll just have mystery stains on him. Like dude, why are your fingers lime green today?? He doesn't know either, he was just simply painting.

10/10, would tape a picture of him to my pillow and hump it. (only jk guys i swear...)

FUZE / SHUHRAT KESSIKBAYEV

My favorite partially mute, weirdly closed off, awkward and most likely autistic bbg. Based off the skin where you can see his face, he is clean shaven but is another 5 o'clock shadow KING. I think he'd either have very light brown hair, or black hair, no in between. He's in his early 30s but is most def getting squishy like tachanka already. he is a big boy guys. He doesn't have the dad bod type squish like tachanka does, maybe more like a bit of a tummy and THICCCKKKKK thighs and bulky arms. He has a few stretch marks, hates them, and also hates most of the scars he has. To him, they are only a reminder that his job involves a lot of pain, some of it permanant.. *cough cough* accidentally cluster charging that hostage *cough cough*.. but he wouldn't mind telling you about a few if you were close enough with him and asked nicely (bribed him while he was drunk). Considering his face is pretty clean shaven, he probably doesn't have much body hair but definitely enough. Hairy legs, arms, a little bit of chest hair and a somewhat thick hair but thin shaped happy trail leading down to a medium but THICK LIKE THE REST OF HIM monster and an absolute mess of pubes. He seems like a lonely man, he's got no real reason to shave em, so why should he?

12/10, is autistic like me, we would go nonverbal together and do some wicked shit like have a staring contest.

#kapkan x reader #rainbow six siege x reader #fuze x reader #tachanka x reader #glaz x reader #rainbow six fanfiction #rainbow 6 siege #rainbow six siege #r6s #x reader #headcanon

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auveriablue · 24 days

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Retired!DadBod!Logan Headcanons

(Picture is of Zombie Wolverine but that’s irrelevant, I saw the picture and it made me tingle so you get this. Also I don’t wanna hear shit about “He can’t gain weight because of XYZ” he’s been fat like thrice)

🥓

- After retiring from the X Men for good this time, Logan settled down in a cabin in the forest. Same old story but it’s secluded and there’s no one to bother him and that’s what he likes. Charles fortunately gave him a hefty retirement fund, because he should after all he put the team through, especially Logan.

- Town is about a half hour drive but he barely shows his face other than to make a weekly grocery run or to go to the bar for a drink when he feels like it but he mostly drinks at home.

- The weight gain is slow at first. He’s still semi active, goes out and gets firewood, takes walks, goes for runs.

- Then some of the local aunties (meaning older women in the community not literal aunties) start to take notice of him when he comes to town. They know he’s not married, they watch him at the grocery store and he gets the same sorry TV dinners and a twelve pack of beer, so they try to welcome Logan into the community.

- He declines their offers at first but soon he’s getting approached by different women in the street, and they’re handing him huge Tupperware containers filled with different dishes and he’s basically strong armed into taking each one home.

- Logan doesn’t waste food. It’s a pet peeve of his and he’ll feel bad if these people make him all of this food and it just goes to waste so he ends up eating multiple meals a day just to get through them and they all smell so good, he can smell almost every ingredient working together in flavor harmony and sometimes he just can’t resist.

- He starts getting soft. Physically and emotionally, towards the community at least. He starts socializing more and he feels bad because he thinks they’re going to turn their backs on him once they find out that he’s a mutant but the opposite happens.

- One day, a gang from outside the community starts causing trouble and wrecking stuff, and even vandalizes a store belonging to one of the kind women that makes food specially for him and Logan’s claws come out and the gang is ran off. Logan gets ready to start packing and relocating but the community actually thanks him and shows gratitude towards him, begging him to let them repay him, which Logan tries to rebuff. He doesn’t want payment or anything.

- So how else do they show their gratitude towards him ? By making him more food. So much that it barely fits in his fridge, so he has to eat some of it in order to make room for most of it.

- And it takes five slabs of ribs, two pot roasts, a plate of fried pork chops, chicken cooked fifteen different ways and so many sides that it’ll make your heads spin but the weight starts sticking.

- Then he actually starts going to all the different banquets and cookouts and bbq’s the community throws and it starts sticking even more. People start having cookouts just to see if they can get Logan to come by so they can talk. He even finds out that a lot of people in town actually brew their own beer so he’s constantly being asked to try new and different brews. They value his opinion and love his brutal honesty and his advice on what they should change in their brewing methods and if he favors it high enough he’ll even find himself coming home with crates full of homemade beer (which also leads to the town throwing an annual festival where everyone comes together to see who has the best brew and Logan becomes the judge)

- It takes a few years but Logan eventually ends up with a nice round potbelly and then a full fledged hairy gut. It bothers him at first because he has to go and buy new clothes, his belts dont buckle anymore and when they do it feels like he’s being hugged slightly too tight and of course the thoughts and nightmares of the team finding him, seeing how he “let himself go” and ridiculing him and he doesn’t even think about fitting into his old suit. But he learns to embrace it whenever he has these thoughts. Sure, is it a little flustering when people of the community jokingly rub his belly for “good luck” ? It is and old Logan probably would have broken someone’s hands for saying and doing that to him but he knows how to take a joke now and even plays along about how rubbing his belly will only bring bad luck

- Which eventually happens when for some convoluted reason the team has to get back together. They track Logan down and his new figure is indeed a surprise to them. Gambit immediately starts cracking some fat jokes and laughing because it’s just so funny to him. He’ll try to touch Logan’s belly asking when the baby’s due and if it’s a boy or a girl and even a “We came down here to find Wolverine but Gambit thinks dat dis fella out here ate him ! Looks like Wolverine is tryna give ol’ blob a run for his money” and yes, Morph makes jokes too, shape shifting into Wolverine’s old figure before shifting into his current figure because they just don’t understand and keep shifting “See ? Fit, Fat. Fit, Fat. Before. After.” and Logan growls and releases his claws and they eventually get the message but will still make the occasional crack.

- Scott starts lecturing immediately. “How could you let yourself go like this ?!? We need you and you’re out here gorging yourself like a pig ? Can you even fit into your suit anymore ? Seriously Logan why would you do this to yourself blah blah blah”

- Storm, Rogue and Jean eventually get all of them to back off of him and stop commenting on his weight, which Logan is thankful for. Storm even compliments him and says the weight looks good on him and he looks happier, healthier, but to not let it get too out of control and that he should keep up with some work outs and if he wanted he could come to the mansion and use the danger room, not to chastise him or lecture him but it comes from a place of concern and she wouldn’t mind seeing Logan now and again, maybe more frequently because she, like the rest of the team, secretly misses him.

- Even if Logan does go, it’s not as if he’s suddenly weak just because he’s gained weight. He can still handle himself very well much to the surprise of the others but if he doesn’t join them, they can fair well enough without him, they just wanted the extra help and for him to be part of the team again. They still encourage him to visit the mansion or let them visit him. And some of them (not naming names but you can guess) actually secretly like Logan’s new bod.

- It isn’t very long before Logan goes from looking like a Wolverine to a full on bear. And it doesn’t really bother him. The only thing that really irks him is having to size up his clothes but other than that he learns to live with his weight gain and eventually comes to like the bigger him.

#big handsome man #chubification beam #weight gain #dadbod #dadbodification beam #wolverine #logan howlett #male wg #x men #don’t like don’t read #this is mainly for my own needs #logan james howlett #james logan howlett #yes i do requests #fat wolverine

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thegatesofsilverandbone · 3 months

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Jack and Will were just two regular guys, best friends since high school, living their best lives in their shared bachelor pad. They had planned a house party for the evening, and the preparations were well underway. Will cracked open a beer with a bear on the logo, handing one to Jack.

"Check this out," Will said, examining the bear on the can. "Looks pretty intense, huh?"

Jack laughed. "Yeah, maybe it's a sign this party is gonna be wild."

They clinked their cans together, toasting to the good times ahead. As they drank, a strange warmth spread through their bodies, starting at their fingertips and moving inward. Neither of them noticed at first, too engrossed in setting up for the party. The air seemed to shimmer around them, the room slightly shifting as if caught in a heatwave.

Jack paused, blinking rapidly. "Did you feel that?" he asked, rubbing his temples.

"Yeah, like a weird...tingling," Will replied, glancing at his hands. They seemed broader, hairier. He shook his head, attributing it to a trick of the light.

As they continued setting up, the changes became more noticeable. Jack's muscles grew more defined, his chest and arms thickening with hair. His skin tanned, lines of experience etching across his face. He absentmindedly scratched at the burgeoning beard on his chin, not fully registering its growth.

Will's transformation mirrored Jack's. His hair darkened, filling out into a dense, neatly trimmed beard. His torso expanded, pectoral muscles becoming more pronounced and covered in a rich, dark carpet of hair. He felt a weight settle over him, a sense of maturity and comfort that hadn't been there before.

Their surroundings began to shift too. The simple, youthful decor of their home morphed into something more refined, more lived-in. Family photos appeared on the walls—pictures of Jack and Will through the years, their faces older, their connection deeper. The kitchen, once stocked with cheap beer and snacks, now held fine wines and gourmet cheeses.

Jack looked down at his reflection in the polished surface of the dining table. The face staring back at him was still his, but older, more rugged, with a full beard and an aura of confidence. He smiled, recognizing the man he had become.

"Will," Jack called out, his voice deeper, richer. "I think we're changing."

Will glanced over, eyes widening in understanding. "Yeah, but it feels...right, doesn't it?"

Jack nodded. "Like this is who we were always meant to be."

As they continued preparing for their anniversary pool party, their memories began to align with their new reality. They remembered the first time they met, the awkward first dates, the years spent building a life together. They recalled anniversaries past, filled with laughter and love, and the friends who had been by their side through it all.

Their transformation complete, Jack and Will stood together, admiring their home and the life they had built. The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of their first guests. As they opened the door, they saw their friends standing there, beers in hand, the same bear logo emblazoned on the cans.

As the guests stepped inside, the same shimmering effect enveloped them. The changes began immediately, muscles bulking up, beards thickening, clothes morphing to fit their new forms. By the time they reached the backyard pool, they too had become older, hairy gay men, fitting seamlessly into the reality that had reshaped around them.

Jack and Will watched, smiles playing on their lips. Their anniversary party was just beginning, and they knew it would be a night to remember. As they raised their drinks in a toast, they knew they were exactly where they were meant to be—surrounded by love, laughter, and the bonds of friendship that had transcended time and space.

#transformation #ai art

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muzansslxt · 2 years

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Maniac Part 2

Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

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Warnings: Dubcon, gun play, age gap, abuse, black mail,kidnapping, swearing, degradation and manipulation. Read at your own risk🫠

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You disappeared.

All traces of you were wiped out permanently, wether it was your name, your home or even a social media account, it was all gone.

See, Toji was already 10 steps ahead of you.

He had carefully planned what your fate would be, before he had even kidnapped you.

Toji didn’t intend for anyone to see the video, at least at the time. And he also didn’t intend on having you dead, you were just to much fun.

Currently you were sitting in the grubby bathroom, on the edge of the tub, having your first break down of the day.

You sobbed into your hands and hunched over, your small pitiful noises sounded outside the door straight to Tojis ear.

He smirked as he swirled the cup of coffee you made for him earlier that morning, although he was used to your crying, he enjoyed it. Every. Time.

You hiccuped as the door opened and trembled slightly, lifting your head meekly and gulped as Tojis hulking figure crouched in front of you.

His hand reached out and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, smearing your tears easily all while smiling gently at you.

But you knew better, Toji wasn’t a nice loving man, and he certainly wasn’t a gentle or kind hearted person. He was nothing but your monster.

“Crying again princess? You’re gunna dry those pretty eyes out.” He hummed while pulling his hand away and watched you lean out slightly before huddling back into yourself.

You sniffled in response and began wiping your eyes with the heel of your hand and nodded to what Toji said.

Standing back up with a grunt, he gave your hair a little tousle before pausing, “I’d say you need a bath.” He said while reaching around you to start the water.

“I-I can do it.” You murmured, since Toji finally had you right where he wanted, he treated you as if you were a child, dressing you, washing you, even trying to assist in personal hygiene matters.

There was only so much humiliation you could handle.

Toji stared at you for a moment before easily grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up over you easily, causing you to whimper.

“I don’t trust you’ll do a good job, you have a customer coming in an hour and I need you all nice and clean.” He murmured while pulling the rest of your clothing off.

Standing naked and shivering before him, you felt small and helpless.

Toji just peered down at you for a moment before purring and easily scooping you up and placing you into the tub.

“I cant…not this time please…” you begged softly while lifting your head to look at him with tearful eyes as he began to wash your hair.

Toji sold your body regularly for money, often to depraved rich older men, with disgusting bodies, all while he watches contently from a corner in the room.

Toji scoffs at you and gives you a light smack up side the head making you whimper.

“Last time I checked I made the rules around here, this is an important guy coming and I need you on your best behaviour.” He scolded while rinsing your hair out carefully.

You had your knees up to your chest and felt the familiar wave of hysterical crying begin but swallowed it away and nodded quietly.

When you were dried off and cleaned up, Toji tossed nothing but a pair of pink panties to you and folded his arms “Put them on and sit in the bed.”

You did as told, you always have since this brute of a man kidnapped you.

The man that walked into the room was pudgey, hairy and had a sinister smile that made your skin crawl.

Toji came in behind him with a smile on his face, the same one he wore for every customer. Once the stranger locked eyes with you he immediately advanced only to be stopped by Toji.

Hope fluttered in your chest for just a moment, but it evaporated once you seen Toji drop condoms in the man’s hand.

“You’re not permitted to use my princess unless you have proper protection.” He said with a warning look before backing off.

The ugly man advanced once more and looked down at you with a sneer “You look just like your mother, you filthy little whore.” He snapped before shoving you into the bed.

Toji rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, there was always someone who came with family issues and pretended you were there daughter or some other fantasy.

Although it sometimes disturbed Toji, you went along with everything perfectly.

From the corner of the room, with a cigarette hanging from his lips, Toji watched your smaller body get beaten and defiled like all the times before.

Your little cries and pleas made his cock ache something wicked.

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You hurt everywhere.

Curled up on the mattress with small bruises along your back, and cum filled condoms littered around you, you cried but very quietly.

Toji was flipping through the stack of cash you had earned and glanced over at you before sighing and setting the money down.

“Hey heyy, what’d I say about crying doll face?~” he cooed to you while laying down with a grunt beside your abused body.

His large warm hands ran up your sides and squeezed your hips gently, his warm breath fanned the back of your neck before placing a small kiss there.

You shake as small sobs wrack your entire body and just look at the older man helplessly.

“I’m sorry…”

Toji held you gently until you finally calmed down before releasing you, “You were a good girl for me you know, you acted perfectly for that sicko. I think you deserve a treat.” He murmured.

Gulping you watch him before sitting up slowly and pulled the blanket with you, “Really..?”

Toji never gave you anything, not even the money you made FOR him. You were undoubtedly curious as to what kind of gift he would give you.

Nodding with a sneaky smile, he moved between your legs before hooking them over his shoulder, your bare cunt on display for him.

Shame brewed in your stomach and turned your cheeks pink, “N-No I’m- I’m not clean-“

Chuckling Toji swiped his tounge over your folds gently, “I’m doing the cleaning for you angel~ Relax~” he purred lowly.

Spreading your soft lips apart, Toji groaned at the sticky mess your pussy was and teased the top of your swollen clit with his thumb.

You moaned softly, hands gripping the sheets tightly as you watched Toji with wide eyes.

His tounge poked your entrance before pushing itself inside, making you arch your back with a sharp gasp, your legs already shaking slightly.

Toji swirled his tongue around your slit before latching onto your clit and curled two fingers inside of you, the motion making your toes curl and breath quicken.

You were rarely blessed with Tojis tongue, or any gentle touching at that.

Toji used you as his personal punching bag half the time and the rest was him pounding painfully hard into your little hole.

Your pussy fluttered around Tojis fingers, you breathed quickly again as your hands gripped the sheets so tightly your knuckles whitened.

“C-can I..?” You whimper, your pretty face flushed with need as your cunt clenched once more.

Toji groaned at the sight of you, a reminder that it pays to treat you with just a small amount of kindness every now and again.

“Of course you can princess, cum on daddy’s fingers~” he cooed while pumping them faster as you chocked on a moan.

Your hips trembled slightly as you felt the on coming wave of euphoria in the pit of your stomach, tears welled up in your eyes.

“Hah~ Ah~ T-Toji~” you moan while clenching your thighs around his lower arm as your pussy gushed out your essence.

Lowering your hips back into the soft mattress, Toji looked down at you for a moment before slowly smirking.

“You’re finally mine.”

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I procrastinate so this took forever to finish. :p

#jujutsu toji #daddy toji #dilf toji #toji scenarios #toji imagine #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fic #smut #toji thirst

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saddlepunk · 4 months

Note

Is Aliss a gay cowboy?? Where's his love interest, if there is one?

hes a bi cowboy and he has TWO (maybe three?) love intetests :D!! older art incoming bc unfortunately i dont draw them often?? this is a crime i need to rectify BUT

these two are Monty Bartow and Tillie Andrews!

honestly this whole situation is a bit of a clusterfuck and aliss does very little to make things better. all of this kicks off purely bc tillie thinks hes kinda hot in a busted cowboy kind of way. key point: all of her friends think shes kind of insane for picking THIS cowboy bc he smells bad and hes malnourished and he looks like he wants to bite everyone around him, but tillie is built different (better) and she finds his stank Masculine and Alluring and his mild scabbyness to be a show of his Adventurous Heart so she kind of bullies him into dating her and he goes along with it because hes desperate for positive attention and her titties are SO fat.

monty also thinks aliss is hot for many of the same reasons, but hes also a queer man in the 1880s so hes less inclined to openly pursue aliss. however, thanks to having had a small support system for his sexuality growing up, monty is perfectly comfortable envisioning all kinds of scenarios between himself and aliss. he doesnt show any of this bc hes very much the big strong quiet softy type, he doesnt say a lot In General, least of all about himself, but it is important to know that hes thinkin abt kissing aliss in the moonlight every time theyre on page together. he desperately wishes aliss was more domestic bc he wants to be al's little housewife so bad and hes kind of jealous of tillie for being able to just Openly Attach Herself to him like that.

for his part, aliss tends to be too weird abt his own situation to consider approaching other men because theres like six logistical hoops to jump through before he can get down to business and its usually not worth the effort, so he considers monty but almost entirely via slightly repressed longing. he spends a lot of time ogling montys hairy tits and insisting its all completely normal appreciation for the male body and not bc he wants to lick the sweat off him

also, for a fun bonus: monty and tillie grew up together, and theyve had a very casual friends with benefits type relationship for a while. theyre very firmly Just Friends, theyve considered a marriage of convenience before but theyre also both romantic souls who want to hold out for The One. it just happens they picked the same One. is it a love triangle if everyone is definitely into each other and its only society keeping them from just forming a throuple? i do not know but thats about the shape of their dynamic.

the other love interest is the rabbit. idk how to explain that one tho so i wont.

#brother rabbit #aliss #tillie #monty #im glossing over a lot but these are the highlight points anyways ahdhdgdhd

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hansensgirl · 3 years

Text

put me in a movie.

summary. | He knows you can’t make it on your own, so he’ll put you in his movie.

warnings. | Dubcon (reader doesn’t know what he’s doing but consents to it), smut, drinking, age gap (reader is legal), virginity loss, choking, spanking, dirty talk, degradation, corruption kink, innocence kink, cream pie kink, penetration, teasing, praise, filming, voyeurism, porn (the industry), fluff, yearning, Daddy kink, humiliation, overstimulation, dumbification kink, and more. SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 6.5k.

pairing. | Grey!Pornstar!Helmut Zemo x Innocent!Reader.

a/n. | please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. inspired by wet, written by the talented @thewritingdoll! do not translate or repost my fics at all.

You don’t like the heat, but you love the summer. The way the days are seldom cold and cloudy, with that occasional breeze that your skin gracefully soaks up in the same way your beach towel soaks up the water on your bathing suit. Popsicles of different flavours dripping down your skin and onto the hot sidewalk. The sticky residue makes you cringe, and you’d use the damp side of your towel to wipe it away. It would work for a few seconds, maybe even a minute or two, before the feeling returns.

You hate the heat, but you love to see him. Those swim trunks of his sticking to his wet skin. They’re a blue colour that seems easy to describe at first glance, but you’ll soon realize just how many shades of navy blue there are, and suddenly you don't even know what colour they are. Maybe it’s the colour of the jeans the cameramen wear, or perhaps it’s the colour of the night sky at around six in the evening during the summertime.

They lug heavy equipment, and you just wonder if they’re filming a movie. If your friends and family members got word, they’d probably lose their minds before begging you to get them a part. Vying for fame runs through the family tree branches, and even you would want a small part in it as well. You give them empty promises, forgetting their words after a few minutes until the following text message or phone call.

You don’t spend much time at the beach anymore. Heck, you haven’t been there since June. Your friends have left with their boyfriends and girlfriends on a trip to Bali, and all you have are your family members to keep you company. Your white fence, magazine and lawn chair are all you know of now. You spend your days outdoors, knowing each one will be filled with the same things. The sunlight, bees buzzing, and seagulls having unwarranted ferociousness.

Your parents spend their days at work, and you stay home to hold your small fort down. You don’t water the grass or touch the garden because your father does it better than anyone. You don’t touch the paint meant for the walls or the furniture boxes that are strewn across the floors because your mother knows where to put them and how to paint. You just relax, and you don’t mind it at all.

That was until you saw him.

Curiosity is your closest friend other than the blue raspberry flavoured popsicles that take up more space in your freezer than anything else. So when the empty house next door suddenly filled up with around half a dozen people, you just couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing. So you peer over the fence, standing on the small two-step ladder that your dad stole from his previous job. Women and a few men are laughing, dressed down in both swimsuits and t-shirts. Their bodies are lovely, the pinnacle of beauty that you sometimes envy. Other times, you’d feel as though you’re the prettiest girl in the world, and that’s not far from the truth. They’ve got different brands of alcohol in their hands, White Claw cans littered on the ground, and you cringe at the mess.

They must be mentally younger than you’ll ever be again because no person older than you can act like this. Heavy, black cameras are resting nearby briefcases, and you hope to god that nothing illegal is going on. The last thing you need is the police questioning you at 1 in the morning. Some of the men ogle at the younger ladies, and they bask in the attention. You watch as their eyes rake up and down their shiny, sweaty bodies.

“Oh, please, the least you all can do is wait for me before you start the party,” a man snickers, stepping out of the house. You look over to him, and your breath is taken away. Water drips down his face, cascading down to his neck and onto his slightly hairy chest—a navy bluish-purple robe and those blue swim shorts that peek through underneath the cloth. The colour of the fabric goes oh so well with the blue of his eyes. They all laugh until they’re sighing and already cracking open another bottle of beer.

You admire him from afar, and you can’t help but be mesmerized by the way he moves: such grace, such elusiveness. The glass in his hand isn’t cheap beer or tequila; it’s whiskey that looks rich as fuck, and he swigs it back like it’s water. You remember the first time your father and mother brought whiskey home from the local liquor store. Your father didn’t enjoy it, and neither did your mother. It sat in a random cupboard until a year ago when your mother decided to throw it out.

He lets out an exhale as the amber liquid flows down his throat, and you watch in awe as he handles the burn like a champion. God, you can’t even handle beer if you try hard enough. He gently places the glass onto the table, far away from the men’s feet, as he knows that they can be quite clumsy. There must be a proper name for all feelings; you believe. Like that feeling when it dawns on you that you’ll never experience something like this ever again.

Or maybe the feeling that Helmut has right now. Not the excitement of finishing this film, and not the tiredness that is a result of working too hard. No, the feeling that he knows you’re watching him from over the fence. He sans his hand towards you, and you quickly duck down, letting out a whimper. You nearly fall from the small ladder, but it wouldn’t be so graceful if it did happen. “What’s wrong, Baron?” one of his co-stars teasingly asks.

“Nothing... Must’ve been the whiskey…”

You don’t hate the summer; you just don’t like the boredom. Even relaxation is something you can tire of, believe it or not. You’ve got nothing to do. Your friends are still out of town, and your parents are at work. You’ve cleaned the house not once, not twice, but three times. Your closet is as clean as it’ll ever be, and the pantry is now organized by most used to least used. The plants have been properly watered, even though it wasn’t necessary since the forecast said there’d be light rain.

You love the rain, especially during the summertime. The sky makes the surrounding world have an almost orange tone to it. The after smell––an earthy, oceanic scent that is so unique––is something you’ll forever look forward to. You’re excited for the day it’ll rain, but even meteorologists tend to be wrong, and Mother Nature has a thing for keeping her children on their toes. It’s one of the many reasons why you love her. So with your little red dress on, you spin around in the backyard.

You’re sensible. You know what creepy crawlers lie underneath the dirt, between the fluffy grass. So instead of being barefoot (just like in those Sofia Loren movies) and playing around, you grab that little latter once again. You’ve scrubbed the grooves and cleaned them of their plant stains––sloppily, of course. Your oversized slippers belong to your dad, and they struggle to stay on your feet, but it doesn’t matter.

You’re not going to be moving around much, anyway. You move the latter closer to where you last saw the group of men and women. You truly hope you don’t get caught and get into any trouble; the last thing you want is your parents scolding you and embarrassing you. You step up on the ladder carefully, grasping onto the wooden fence for support. The surface is hot to the touch, and you really want to let go, but you really shouldn’t. You whisper affirmations along the lines of ‘I won’t fall…’ over and over again, under your breath.

And you hope to God they work.

Admittedly, you also hope he’s wearing those blue swim shorts of his again. The look (and he) resides in your heart, amongst other tubes and canals that have learned to make room for friends, family and passions. But he’s not a friend, he’s not family, and he’s most certainly not a passion. ...He’s something else, that’s for sure. An enigma, really. He reminds you of that feeling––the one that has a name, temptation. Someone tells you not to do something you weren’t going to do in the first place, and now you want to do it.

Except the case is different. You shouldn’t be perving on strangers like this––sneaking up on them, spying on them––all because you just can’t help it. Your mind tells you to stop, but it’s just giving you all the more reason to continue doing it. So, until you nearly get caught one more time, you’ll continue to watch him. Desperate to figure out who he is and what he’s doing.

The cameras are no longer on the ground; a smart decision, given that there’s a pool that takes up more space than anything. The blue water of pools has always fooled you. You grew up believing that it was the true colour of water, not even knowing that it was, in fact, the tiles and not the water. There’s no mess there either, clean and tidy. Maybe professionally done, because the concrete has but not one dark spot or crease where grass grows out of it.

Laid perfectly, you know your mother and father would admire it for a few minutes. You squint your eyes and gaze at the glass sliding door. Inside is him. You let out one of those dreamy, love-filled sighs that only main characters do in romance movies. You watch him as he pours himself a cup of coffee, two spoonfuls of sugar, and a dash of what seems to be almond milk.

You wonder if he likes iced coffees, as they can be so nice during the summertime. He wears those lovely blue swim shorts once again, hair slightly damp (with a pretty curliness to a few strands) and a navy bathrobe. It’s that same outfit as the other time you saw him, and you realize that they’re probably filming a movie. He moves around the counter, putting away certain little ingredients and whatnot.

The most mundane actions ever, ones that even you did just this morning. But god, he just makes it all seem so unique. He cards his fingers through his brown, almost dirty blond hair. There are clumps of strands that stick together, wetness that’ll dry probably as soon as he steps outside. He faces the window, staring out towards the fence that has been freshly painted, and sighs.

His head lulls back, and his neck is exposed. He’s probably both an actor and a model, you think to yourself. His chest hair has grown a bit more, and you can’t find yourself complaining. Tingles run through your body and even down to your pussy. You rub your thighs together, trying to make the feeling go away, while still being careful about holding onto the fence. You hope that he doesn’t know you’re watching him because you’ll never be able to live that down.

And it’s just so unfortunate that Helmut is such a clever man. Heightened senses from when he used to camp a lot when he was younger; he just knows practically everything. He knows you’re watching him, squinting your eyes until they’re nearly shut close. The skin around them wrinkles in the most adorable way, just like the way your nose scrunches up out of instinct. God, he could kiss every crevice of your body, even if you don’t know who he is.

“Hey, Helmut, we have a few re-shoots to do. Do you want to start now?” one of the cameramen asks him, holding a microphone in his hand. “No… I’m tired; we’ll do it all tomorrow,” Helmut says, waving his hand. He’s no longer looking outside and instead at the man who he’s addressing. He nods and walks off before Helmut follows him. Common courtesy is to always escort your guests out, and Helmut was raised with manners. With a hand on the man’s lower back, and a smile on his face, Helmut gently pushes him out the door and locks it.

You watch him as he disappears, seemingly leading someone out of his home, and you think all is fine. That is until that little voice in your mind decides to be obnoxious. The slight possibility that you’ve been caught and he’s mad haunts you, and your breath hitches. Your eyeballs are wide open, as big as the eyes of an owl, and your hands shake a bit out of fear. They dampen up a bit, not enough to the point where you’d be disgusted, but they’re clammy nonetheless.

You make a move to jump off the latter, not caring about the possible risk of falling and scraping your pretty legs. Your hands begin to let go of the fence, but they’re stopped by someone grabbing you by your wrists. You let out a squeal of shock as they hold you tightly from over the barrier, and you’re screwed. “I’m sorry!” you quickly yell, squinting your eyes out of fear. You’re not sure what to expect, whether he would yell at you or threaten to call the cops.

“No, it’s okay. Calm down, I’m not mad. Come back,” Helmut tells you, and you calm down. Yet you’re still nervous, scared that he’s a liar and that you’ll be in deep shit with the law. You step back onto the latter and are wary of looking over the wood. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow thickly. “I’m not mad, okay? I think it’s kind of cute. You’re like a curious little bunny,” he smiles, and you giggle.

“Never been called that before, usually just a curious cat,” you share with him, and he laughs. “Well, that’s not wrong,” he adds. A brief silence intrudes, and you just stare at one another. Helmut’s eyes jump from feature to feature on your face, relishing in that unique gorgeousness of yours. Someone like you will never be found amongst models because you’re an absolute angel. You’re like a pretty rose amongst other flowers; all are beautiful in their own ways, but you always manage to stand out.

You wonder if Helmut is the wolf to your bunny. That dark look in his eyes that compliments his features and overall attitude. He carries himself in such a way that old Hollywood actors wish they were so graceful. He’s the polar opposite of you––seemingly. But from the few words you’ve exchanged with each other, he just might be a bunny friend to yours. “I- I saw that there were cameras and I heard people talking… Are you filming a movie?” you ask him.

“...Yes, we are, bunny. I apologize for being so loud. Do you forgive me?” Helmut questions with a smile on his face. You nod your head and bite on your bottom lip, watching as his eyes brighten up a bit. “What’s it about? Can I know? Are you the main protagonist? Or the antagonist? What genre is it?” you interrogate, flooding him with questions. “Shh, one at a time, bunny. It’s very, very special and secretive. I can’t tell you much. But I’m the main protagonist, and it’s a bit of a naughty movie, so I don’t think a little girl like you should know much,” he whispers to you.

You nod your head as you listen to him, so intrigued about the work of art being filmed next door. “I’ve always wanted to be in a movie! Especially in one of those old Hollywood ones, they’re so good,” you admit to him shyly, with a coy smirk on your face. “Really? I think you’d be an amazing actress. You’d be even more popular than Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe,” Helmut praises, and you giggle once again.

“T- Thank you so much! ...Can I be in your movie?” you politely request him, but he shakes his head. You frown, your bottom lip jutted out. “You wouldn’t want to be in this movie, bunny. Remember what I said? It’s a naughty movie, and you’re just a little girl,” he reminds you, but you’re still pouting. “Is it a violent movie? One with curse words and lots of scary stuff?” you innocently ask, not sure as to what he means.

Helmut laughs quite loudly. “No,” he stifles a chuckle, “but one day I’ll shoot a movie with you, and I’ll show you how it’s all done.” He promises, and you can just tell he’s honest. You’re elated, hoping that the day he’s talking about will come soon. “What is your name, bunny?” Helmut asks, and you tell him. He nods before repeating it, giving you a smile. He brings both of your hands close to his face. You go on the tip of your toes to properly watch him once more. He presses his lips to the back of your hands, kisses them one by one.

“Go get some rest, bunny, and come by my place tomorrow,” he tells you before letting go of your wrists. He walks off before you do anything else. Sliding the glass door behind him, he disappears somewhere, and you’re left all by yourself. You’re still standing there, sighing dreamily as you replay the moments that will surely turn into a broken record. You hope that he’ll wear those blue swim shorts again, even though he’s already worn them twice.

There’s a skip in your step—nothing new and nothing unusual. Your shoes scratch against the concrete of the sidewalk that connects to Helmut’s front door. The sun only rose an hour and a half ago. The sky is a bright blue, filled with a few clouds that compliment the colour. The sun beats down onto your skin, and you haven’t forgotten to put on sunscreen once you finish twirling around in your little sundress.

You’ve got a miniature backpack that is slung over both of your shoulders. It’s orange, a bright one, in fact. It reminds you of the tangerines you love to peel, and those creamsicle treats that can be quite rare to find at this time of the year. You climb up the two steps that lead to his grey door, and you rap the wood a few times. There’s a doorbell too, one of those high-tech ones that record everything in its view.

Nothing but silence echoes back. No cars driving by, no birds chirping, no insects buzzing. Nothing. You wonder if he’s woken up yet, or if he’s even home. But as the door suddenly swings open––without a squeak, mind you––you’re met with the smiling face that belongs to Helmut. “Good morning, early-bird, is everything alright?” he questions, not one ounce of sleep tainting his look.

“Good morning! Everything is alright… D- Do you remember what you told me yesterday? About coming by?” you ask him, almost thinking to yourself that you’re just insane and that conversation never really happened. “Oh, right! Sorry, I've been a bit forgetful lately. But come in, have you eaten already?” Helmut asks as he moves to the side for you to enter.

Hesitatingly, you step inside his home. You kick off your shoes and look around. It seems sleek and modern at first, quite… different from the familiar feel of your house. Now, there are no wild polygons or geometric shapes that make you feel like you’ve been placed on a spaceship. No, it’s something that even your mind can’t come up with. The walls are a cream colour, engraved with different patterns that make it resemble marble. The chairs and couches have clear plastic legs on them, adding to that newfound era feel.

The floors are a light brown colour; wood in the shape of long, skinny parallelograms fitting against each other perfectly. The lights hang down a bit, high ceilings that you can’t even fathom reaching. You spin around and look up at them as they shine down brightly on you. They stem down from a pretty grey bronze appliqué that is attached to the ceiling. It’s practically art, just like the portraits of half-naked ladies that hang on his walls. There’s a specific piece that is above the fireplace.

It’s a mirror, and your reflection is in it. So is Helmut’s. You’re in front of him, looking at him through the mirror. He’s behind you, staring at your reflection. You both stay like that for a bit before you look away and admire the windows. He has such a lovely view; you can’t help but envy him for it. “Now, bunny, I have to be honest with you. We wrapped the movie up last night, and it was very late. I didn’t call you over because of that, and I’m really sorry about that. Do you forgive me?” Helmut questions.

You nod your head eagerly, just sensing that he’ll lead on with some sort of good news. Your parents have done that far too many times for you not to know better. “But, if you want, I’ll put you in a movie. It’ll be just between you and me because it won’t be too professional, okay?” Helmut grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes, waiting for your answer. “Oh, yes, please! That sounds amazing. Thank you so much!” you cheer, wrapping your arms around him.

You hug him tightly, and he eventually hugs you back. “Now, I want to finish it as soon as possible. So set your bag right on this couch, and go sit on that one,” Helmut instructs, pointing at the biggest couch in the living room. You nod and do exactly as he tells you. He walks away, possibly to set something up or to get ready, but either way, you still sit on his couch, filled with pure excitement. You cross one leg over the other, your pretty white dress covering the upper half of your thighs.

Lace that is on top of the cotton, both the same colour, and you realize how much you love this dress. Helmut saunters back into the living room, holding a giant tripod in one hand and a small camera in the other. You gasp at the sight, and he chuckles. Setting them up from the other side of the small coffee table, you watch him in awe. “This is going to be… a big girl movie, okay? Just like the one I was in. But I don't think it will be visible to the public eye, might just be between you and I,” Helmut tells you.

You nod in understanding. “Are you fine with that, little bunny?” he asks you just for reassurance. “Mhm, you can do anything you want; I don’t mind!” you reassure him, with a giant smile on your face. He swallows thickly as blood rushes downwards to his cock from your words. You still grin gleefully, such innocence on your features that he almost feels bad for having feelings for you.

He presses the little power button on the camera and waits for a green light to come on. With a smirk, Helmut walks around the table and stands in front of you. You look up at him, waiting for him to do something. He bends down and grabs both sides of your face––gently, of course––and he makes you stand up. He tilts his head and leans forward, slotting his lips against yours.

Now, you’ve kissed someone before. His name started with something along the lines of ‘J’ or ‘L,’ but that doesn’t matter. But that kiss was nothing like Helmut’s kiss. His kiss is soft and passionate, something you struggle to match. His lips stay locked with yours before moving to push his tongue into your mouth. You’re not sure what to do, so you just give up and let him kiss you until you both run out of breath. His tongue runs against the wet skin of your mouth, and you gasp at the feeling.

He eventually pulls away, and he looks at you with his eyes blown out. Helmut sighs and smiles at you. “You gotta trust me, okay?” he tells you once more, and you nod. “Ok…” you trail off, not knowing what to follow up with. “You gotta call me by a nickname, bunny… Hmm, how about Daddy?” he exclaims, his accent becoming more prominent. You love it and how unique it is. “Okay! I like that one a lot, my friend calls her boyfriend that sometimes,” you share with him, and he laughs.

He sits you down on the couch again, and his hand inches up your dress, making you giddy. He smiles at you, and you can see from the corner of your eye how the camera is filming you both. Helmut just knows you’re wet already, but you probably don’t know it. And he’s not wrong. You feel slightly tingly, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Your panties slide down your legs, a wet patch on them, and Helmut throws them to the side. He lifts your dress over your head and tosses the fabric away, too.

He takes a step back and admires you. You still have your ankle socks on, but God, you’re so gorgeous he thinks he’s in heaven. “You’re so pretty, bunny. The prettiest bunny I’ve ever seen,” he compliments. You grow shy and smile before whispering a thank you. You smile at the camera, and he begins to undress. The first thing that goes is the robe, and his chest is now exposed.

Helmut hasn’t shaved his chest hair, and you’re glad. It looks nice on him––but to be fair––anything does. All he has on is those swim shorts. God, you love those shorts so much. They’re no longer wet, and yet they still cling to his thighs. He slowly pulls them down––and you feel as though you should look away and give him privacy––but you just can’t. His cock is hard, and it shows through the fabric, but you’re too busy staring at his hands to notice it.

His Adonis belt is slowly exposed, along with his pelvic bone, as he pulls down his boxers as well. There’s a small bush of hair right above his cock, and you find yourself wanting to tangle your fingers between the strands. Helmut’s cock bounces up––hard, red, and leaking––and the tip slaps right below his belly button. You let out a gasp, and he chuckles. His swim shorts lie on the floor, and you’re suddenly being urged to lay back.

Helmut climbs on top of you, caging you beneath his well-built body. Soft abs that are just perfect enough for you, and big hands that hold you so lovingly. He wants to feel his rough palms against your delicate skin, falling into every groove and curve there is. Like an artist admiring their artwork, he runs his hands along your body. From your thighs to your hips, over your stomach, between your breasts, all the way up to your neck. His hard cock is between your legs, nearly touching your sensitive little pussy.

You swallow nervously at the feeling. Helmut’s left hand wraps around your throat, and his right hand moves downwards to your legs. Gripping your calf, he places your right leg on the head of the couch and moves to position your left leg so that it hangs off the edge of the seat. You’re spread wide open for Helmut, not able to hide your naked body or close your legs. Your hands rest above your head, almost as though you’re pathetically shielding your hair from the rain.

Helmut’s hand still rests on your neck, but he doesn’t squeeze your throat or anything like that. You’re not sure if he’s playing the antagonist or not, but you decide to just go along with what he does. “You’re okay, right, bunny? You’re fine, I’m gonna treat you so good,” he promises, and you give him your best superstar smile. You have to admit that you’re nervous, but you trust him completely. Helmut would never do anything wrong to you.

“Has anyone ever touched you down here, bunny? Have you ever touched down here?” he questions you, walking his fingers up to your soaking wet pussy. “Hmm, uh, I touched it once, but I didn’t know what was happening, so I stopped,” you shyly explain to him, and he nods. “That’s okay, bunny. Can I touch you here? I won’t hurt you too badly, I promise,” Helmut assures you, and you nod. His index finger sticks out, and he watches as slick drips from your hole and coats the silky skin around it.

The digit becomes a bit shiny and quite sticky, and he traces your slit lightly. You shiver lightly from his touch, and sensitivity blooms in your core. “Uhm… Daddy?” you call out to him, a bit worried. “What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks, bringing his finger up to your clit. It throbs with want, just like the veins on his cock. “It feels very sensitive, almost too sensitive…” you admit to him, even though he continues to touch your clit.

“That’s okay, bunny, that’s how it’s supposed to feel. But if you want to stop, just tell me,” Helmut urges you. “Okay, Daddy.” He rubs your little nub in small, light circles. The muscles in your legs twitch, and you bite down on your bottom lip. He continues to touch your clit, and you begin to writhe from the overwhelming feeling. You let out a few whines, and Helmut watches as your cunt just gets wetter and wetter.

You try to shift his hands away from you in your weird position. It’s just too much at once, and you’re scared of what will happen next. The pornstar’s finger slips off your cunt, and he lets out a small gasp. The sound is mixed with displeasure, and you look him in the eyes with innocence. “Don’t do that again, bunny,” he warns, squeezing your neck a bit just to add to his threat. His index finger returns to your clit, and this time, he rubs your little pearl even harder. You see stars, ones that are dark and would be hidden in the blackness of outer space. Your eyes roll back into your skull, and you’ve never felt such pleasure in your life. Helmut’s digit touches the most sensitive part of your clit, and you jerk in response. Your legs try to shut close, but his body stops you from doing so.

When you open your eyes, you’re faced with a displeased superstar. Helmut lets out a shaky exhale, trying to compose himself. He knows he shouldn’t get mad at you, but he just doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have his way. His hand leaves your cunt and moves downwards. Suddenly, a harsh slap lands on your ass, making you cry out in pain. The skin stings and prickles, and you can feel slight tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Instead of staring at your pretty little face, Helmut squeezes your neck even tighter and watches as your little hole begins to leak with even more wetness. “Aww, bunny, did you enjoy Daddy hitting you? Hm? I bet you did; that’s you’re so wet,” he chuckles, and you grow shy. He’s not wrong, though. You enjoyed the pain quite a bit, even though you tend to avoid any and all activities that could leave you with a minor injury.

“Such a little slut for pain. But I bet you don’t like it when Daddy gets mean with you, right? Yeah, because you’re just a sensitive little bunny,” he coos, and you smile. You nod to him, and he grins down at you. Helmut’s cock is a furious red, almost purple if you really look closely. Beads of precum run down the sides of his cock, all the way to his thick base. He slaps your ass once more, enjoying the way you flinch and then smile from delight.

“I guess I’ve been a bit mean, just touching your little button without even letting you come…” he sighs before shifting onto his knees. Helmut looks over to the camera, just to make sure it’s still recording. And it is, so he smiles. He towers over you even more now, a few strands on his hair dangling downwards, and you find yourself wanting to play with them. The hand that was on your ass grasps the base of his cock, and he runs the head through your folds.

A quiet squelching sound echoes between the both of you, and you giggle. Your laughter is cut short when he bumps up against your clit, and you let out a moan. The sound is unexpected on your behalf, but Helmut just smirks. Your moans turn into a string of shallow pants, and he curses under his breath at the feeling. Dragging his head away from your clit, he brings himself down to your hole, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“Shh, just let Daddy in, okay? I know it’s your first time, but it’s okay. You’re fine, don’t worry,” Helmut reassures. You nod your head and let out a pained cry as he pushes into you slowly. You feel as though you’re being torn apart, split into two. He grips your throat even tighter, and you wrap your hand around his wrist in a panicked, fleeting moment.

Helmut sheathes himself inside you, with your mouth parted open in a silent scream and his eyebrows knitted together. He eventually bottoms out, and the stretch of his cock goes from a harsh burn to a pleasurable feeling. His swollen balls touch your aching ass, and he bends down to kiss your forehead lightly. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he questions. “Y- Yes, it feels really good, Daddy. Just a li’l uncomfortable, but it feels really good,” you tell him.

Your cunt squeezes him in a tight hug, your silky wet walls welcoming him in hesitantly. He wishes to stay inside you his whole life, and he would if he could convince you. Helmut pulls out until his head is the only thing inside you before roughly thrusting back inside. You cry out, and his hand loosens around your throat. “Such a good girl, letting me use your pussy for my pleasure. You like being recorded while I fuck you, right? Say it,” he demands, fucking into you roughly.

Your tits bounce with each and every movement. Helmut’s cock gets closer and closer to your sweet spot, and you moan loudly. “I- I like being recorded while you fuck me, Daddy,” you repeat to him. Helmut groans loudly, and you clench down on his cock tightly. “You feel so good, bunny, better than anyone else,” he compliments, feeling slick sweat beginning to build upon his back. “Uhm, Daddy? S- Something’s happening,” you whisper to him through your desperate cries of pleasure.

Searing heat grows hotter and hotter in your stomach, right above your pussy. You’ve never felt like this before, other than when Helmut was touching your pussy a few moments ago. “Let it happen, bunny, it’s okay, come all over Daddy’s big cock. I know you can do it, squeeze me, bunny,” Helmut urges, and you listen to him. The powerful feeling grows and grows, and so do your moans. And the elastic cord breaks eventually. It always does.

You cry out ‘Daddy’ as you come undone around his cock for the very first time. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, even though you’re gripping him so tightly. You gush all over him, wetness coating his cock, and it makes him fuck you even quicker. The sound of skin on skin and loud moans fill the room, and Helmut hopes to God that the microphone is picking up on it all. The feeling in your body makes you lose all sense of reality, and you’re babbling like a little baby.

“Daddy- It’s too much,” you sob to him, digging your nails into your palms. “Shh, it’s okay, bunny,” he shushes gently, keeping his hand wrapped lazily around your neck. Helmut’s cock slams into your cunt, pounding into you ruthlessly, yet he’s somehow oh so gentle. Your eyes roll into the back of your head again, and you moan gently as you feel another climax being built up. Back to back, and you’re not sure how your body is going to handle it.

He’s close, too. He’s never had this happen before, and he’s not sure what to think of it.

“Awe, you’re going to come again, bunny? That’s okay, shh, Daddy’s here, bunny. We’ll do it together, and it’ll b- be good,” he tells you, and you nod. Helmut bends down and places his shiny forehead against yours. He stares you into your glassy eyes––they’re hazy––and he can tell you’re gone. You’ve gotten all stupid and dumb for his cock, and he loves the idea so much.

You both pant as he sloppily fucks into your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill up your tight little pussy with my cum. Gonna watch it leak out, and I’m just gonna fill you up over and over again. Make you all mine because you belong to me. Right? Say it,” he growls, fucking you even faster. “I’m all yours, Daddy, I’m all yours,” you say to him, and you’re both pushed off the edge after one specific thrust.

“O- Oh my…” you choke out, squeezing your eyes shut. Helmut curses loudly, saying all kinds of sinful things that a nun would faint if she hears him. His cock twitches as he comes inside you, and your pussy squeezes him as you let go. Streaks of cum shoot out his tip and paint your inner walls, and it all begins to leak out already. Your cum mixes with his, and he can’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the sight of it.

He presses a kiss on your nose before slowly pulling out. Helmut’s cock is still hard, and he just knows the afternoon won’t end until he says so. You wince loudly at the feeling of emptiness and overwhelming sensitivity. “Sorry, bunny,” he frowns, reaching over for the camera. You watch him through droopy eyelids as he focuses it on your cunt, then to your body, and then to your face.

“Did I do good, Daddy?” you ask him excitedly.

“So good, bunny. You’re going to be sweeping up at the awards next year.”

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spicymayo1983 · 3 years

Text

Hiya. If you haven't yet seen the 2013 erotic thriller In Secret starring Elizabeth Olsen, Oscar Isaac and Jessica Lange I highly recommend it. I've watched it twice in the past month. Lol.

Oscar's character Laurent Leclaire is so sensual, so devious that I decided to write a short, filthy little fanfic starring you, the reader, and him.

Laurent is sexy evil personified, sigh.

The setting is 1860's Paris. The story takes place before Laurent meets Elizabeth Olsen's character Therese. You are a young (nothing illegal, you are 19) virgin artists model that gets seduced and absolutely ravished by the dominant, more worldly Laurent one evening in his studio when you are posing for him.

Warnings, female receiving oral sex, dominance, frank descriptions of painful virginity loss, rough sex, language, not for anyone under 18. Just pure, gratuitous, thirsty smut. Lol.

But it's set in the Victorian Era so that makes it classy? Lmao.

Touch and taste

Things started out fairly innocent enough. You met him at your older sister's dinner party one evening.

He is a friend of your sister's husband, they went to school together.

Your sister is much more outgoing than you and at 19 you are still unmarried, having never even held hands with a man before.

You live with your sister and brother in law in an old but tidy home in Paris. You are middle class and the home is well decorated and furnished. Your sister is expecting her first child and you are looking forward to helping care for the infant.

The two of you have a warm, loving relationship.

Even for the Victorian Era you are painfully shy, your sister had to beg you to come to her party.

There are several single men there and she's trying to find you a suitor, a potential husband.

He was an artist, and his name was Laurent Leclaire.

You sat across from the mysterious, brooding man and as you attempted to make small talk with the other guests you couldn't help but notice from the corner of your eye how he looked at you.

It was like Laurent was studying you, taking in your shy, delicate beauty. When your eyes finally meet he flashes you a devilish little smirk that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your face turns bright red and you immediately look down.

In the glow of the candlelight you can make out his absurdly beautiful chiseled features. His curly hair, dark eyes, and of course that smile. He made you feel things, unfamiliar feelings that terrified you somewhat. You feel a twinge, an ache, coming from somewhere inside of you. Somewhere where good, Christian women don't normally get those feelings

"Oh dear, what's wrong?" Your sister asks, noticing your flush.

"It's nothing". You reply quickly with a nervous giggle.

"Perhaps I've imbibed in too much wine, I'll be fine".

"Oh my it's getting worse!" The older lady sitting next to your sister exclaimed.

You happen to catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror hanging on the wall across from you. Indeed the flush has gotten worse, your pale cheeks are as red as cherries.

"Let's get you upstairs". Your sister insists, helping you get to your feet.

"No I'm fine". You reply, sounding slightly irritated.

"You look terribly unwell". Your sister continues. "Come with me".

You reluctantly follow your sister upstairs to your room. You have to pass the handsome stranger on the way by, and you could have sworn you felt his hand brush yours, and then down the soft velvet of your skirt.

Once upstairs your sister helps you undress. You crawl into your bed and she brings you a cup of warm tea.

"You have a fever". Your sister frets as she lays her hand on your forehead.

"Quit fussing over me I assure you that I'm fine". You reply, smiling a little as you begin work on the embroidery project that was waiting by your bed.

"How am I ever to find a suitor with you making me leave the party early?"

"There's noone suitable there". Your sister replies sharply.

"What about the dark haired gentleman across from us?" You inquire, a slight smile creeping across your face.

"His name is Laurent and he is nothing but trouble". Your sister snaps back. "Stay away from him, I mean it, he will ruin your reputation".

Your sister's harsh words surprise you a bit, but you now have a name, Laurent, and you are also intrigued by your sister's stern warning.

Ruin my reputation? What on earth does that mean? You wonder as you nod off to sleep.

The next morning you are awakened by the familiar smell of food cooking and the sound of men talking. Sleepily you leave your bedroom and step into the hallway.

It's him again. You catch a glimpse of Laurent talking to your brother in law in the foyer. You immediately duck back into your bedroom and hastily get dressed.

You dash down the stairs quickly, brushing past Laurent. You look at him and flash a shy smile, he smiles back warmly.

You enjoy a nice leisurely, breakfast with your sister, brother in law and Laurent. You catch him glancing at you again, your face turns a light shade of pink.

Afterwards Laurent catches you alone in the foyer. You formally introduce yourself, Laurent kisses your hand.

"Your features. They're so classically pretty, like a sculpture". Laurent tells you as a rather seductive smile appears on his handsome face.

"I'd like to, if you wouldn't mind, paint you".

You giggle nervously at his proposition as your face turns pink. Laurent gently touches your flushed cheek,

you look at him and say nervously, "I'll do it".

"Wear that beautiful velvet dress you had on last night, and the pearl earrings too". Laurent replied, looking into your eyes.

The next afternoon you nervously arrive at Laurent's small flat/art studio, which was only a short walk from your own home.

As soon as he opens the door he smiles brightly and takes your hand. He leads you to a small room, where you sit on a chair in front of an easel.

Laurent sits next to you, looks deeply into your eyes and says,

"Tell me more about you, y/n, I like to learn more about my subject before I paint them".

"There isn't much to say really". You reply quickly, your face turning bright red again. "I'm 19, from Paris, I love my sister and brother in law. Both our parents passed years ago."

"You get embarrassed around the opposite sex, don't you?" Laurent pressed, taking your hand in his and stroking it. "You're so innocent like a child, but at the same time I know you're curious".

The man has read you like a book, you gasp a little at his words and start to tremble noticeably. Laurent leans over and kisses you gently on the cheek.

"Can I kiss your beautiful lips?" He continues, his breathing changing a little due to his own arousal.

"I've never done this, kissing". You reply, the heat from the lower part of your body becoming almost unbearable. "You'd have to show me".

"Open your mouth a little bit". Laurent orders, stroking your cheek with his strong hand. "Follow what I do".

He passionately kisses you using his tongue, you're shocked but quickly mime what he is doing. One of his hands drifts to your lap and he starts to stroke the wetness that is hidden by your pantaloons.

"Undress for me, I want to see my beautiful subject, all of you". Laurent orders, not asks.

You are so caught up in the moment, in him, that you obey his commands.

Noone has ever seen you like this, male or female. Well, maybe your sister. Definitely no men. You are trembling a little as you stand before him.

Laurent uses a paintbrush to trace and tease your body, you can see his hard manhood through his trousers.

"Let's go into my bedroom, I want to touch and taste you". He orders.

You go into his bedroom and recline on his bed. Laurent undresses, revealing his lean, muscular body.

His hard cock looks massive, intimidating, you've only seen them in medical journals and you've had no idea that they were this large in person. Perhaps it's just his own personal endowment.

Laurent kneels between your trembling legs and gently spreads them.

"It looks like an orchid, a fragile, pink orchid, it's so beautiful". Laurent tells you as he teasingly massages your intricate folds that are peeking through a thick patch of hair with his fingers.

He leaves you for a moment and grabs a sketch pad, he uses charcoal and quickly sketches your womanhood. When Laurent is done he shows you, you gasp a little and say, "I've never seen this side of myself".

"Can I touch and taste your petals?" Laurent pushes, you can see the desire burning in his eyes.

"Taste? What do you mean?" You ask, innocently having no clue what he means.

"Let me show you". Laurent purrs, leading you back over to his bed. "Tell me where you want my tongue".

You relax on the bed again, you gently spread your legs and he kneels before you and spreads them further.

He touches his tongue on your sensitive bud, causing you to immediately tremble from pleasure.

Laurent begins to suck and lick your frilly inner lips, you moan with delight from the intense sensation that you are feeling spread throughout your body.

What he's doing to you feels so good yet so sinful, and dirty.

Laurent's tongue moves down further, and he hits a barrier, your hymen is still intact and fairly thick, he gives it a gentle little flick with his tongue.

He then buries his face into your hairy mound, taking in your sweet, musky scent, the tip of his nose brushing against your wetness.

Your scent makes him moan from delight, Laurent is showing you just how much he savors and appreciates the female anatomy.

He teasingly strokes your innocence with his finger, being extra careful not to penetrate it or break it.

It's almost like he's in awe and aroused at that little barrier.

"My cock needs you, I need to feel this". Laurent begs, you can see the precum oozing from his hard tip.

"It's for my husband". You reply quickly and nervously.

"Noone cares about that anymore, especially in this city". Laurent tells you with a quick laugh.

You are so worked up and attracted to him that you relent, he spreads your legs again and positions himself on top of you.

Laurent starts to enter you, you gasp and sputter in a mixture of agony and pleasure as he slowly penetrates you, both of you can feel the moment your hymen breaks, spilling a considerable amount of blood on his sheets.

"Does it hurt?" Laurent asks.

"Yes". You reply, tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Good". He replies, thrusting into you harder.

With your legs wrapped firmly around his waist Laurent fucks you, hard. The pain quickly turns to pleasure as you become more comfortable with his body.

When he cums he fills you with a fairly large load as he moans and sputters. Afterwards Laurent spreads your legs again, and sticks his tongue deep inside of you, tasting a mixture of your juices.

Your sister is correct. If Satan himself walked the earth his name would be Laurent Leclaire. The man is so virile, so charming and so handsome that even you, the shy, innocent virgin relented to his charms.

Afterwards with his help you get redressed. As he's lacing you into your corset Laurent gently kisses and nuzzles your neck, muttering about how beautiful you are.

You sit with him through the night and he does indeed paint your portrait, as promised.

"You touched my hand and dress when I was walking by at the dinner party, didn't?" You ask, your face turning pink again.

"Of course". He replied, chuckling a little. "I wanted to see if you were as soft and delicate as you looked. Your silken hand felt just like the beautiful fabric of your gown".

"Why the pink background?" You continue, smiling a little.

"The pink represents the blushing of your cheeks". Laurent explains, sounding like every bit the serious artist. "And the colors of your beautiful petals, you are truly a masterpiece of God's creation".

The end

#in secret #laurent leclaire #fanfic #fanfic smut #fanfiction #long post #reader insert #smutty #smut tag #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac

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entishramblings · 4 years

Text

You Have Pretty Hair [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: so this one shot has some pieces from my fanfic (link in description) but I altered it for a legolas x reader formate cuz I figured you all would be interested because on wattpad so many users said they loved it! So if you recognize it....that’s why!!!

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is traveling with the fellowship and they end up drinking one night and Legolas has to take care of (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,270

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N), a young female ranger of the Dunedain and close friend of Aragorn’s, grinned when she saw a worn down sign that read: The White Lion Inn. She had chosen to accompany the fellowship on the quest to destroy the one ring, for her sword skills and healing abilities would provide useful. She had trained under Isildur’s heir for many years and was well aquatinted with the lays of the lands.

The weary members of the fellowship trudged through the door hoping for a comfortable bed, hot meal, and some quality ale. When they entered, the diverse group was immediately greeted by the sound of drunk humans and off-pitch tavern songs. Many uncertain eyes wandered across them for they had just demolished a pack of orcs so they were quite a sight to see. (Y/N) had a bloody head wound and was splashed with dark orc blood; Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli had a handful of superficial cuts whereas Legolas was completely unscathed. Not to mention they were accompanied by a wizard and four hobbits. An interesting group indeed.

The wooden walls of the tavern were dimly lit by candles and lanterns while the room was filled with intoxicated, dirt covered travelers—not the most appealing of types. Furthermore, the stale air smelled of ale and three days old piss. But alas, it was better than the bone chilling coldness of outside and the threat of Sauron’s spies.

Gandalf suggested they get cleaned up before diving into drinking, but (Y/N) had other ideas.

She smirked at the sight before her. She loved taverns and she loved drinking. She hadn't had any alcohol since her arrival at Rivendell so she was quite deprived from the ensnaring numb sensation it provided.

The female Ranger immediately walked up to the barkeep and tossed a coin onto the counter, "One pint of the good stuff."

The bar tender glanced at the blood covered woman and raised his eyebrows, but he did not question anything for he often saw strange folk with strange business in this part of town. He plucked a glass from the shelves behind him and generously poured a tall tankard with bitter ale. He slid it across the counter towards her and she offered a quick thanks.

......

It was not long until most of the fellowship had started drinking. Gandalf, Sam, and Frodo had retired early for they were exhausted and had no interest in getting drunk. Merry, Pippin, and Gimli however had started a drinking contest while the two human men observed with laughter. Legolas only had two pints, which did absolutely nothing for him. (Y/N) on the other hand was on her 6th? 7th? She had lost track a long time ago and was completely utterly waisted.

Currently, the female ranger was on the top of the table dancing and laughing with the two hobbits (who were slightly less drunk). The three beings’ arms were locked and they were swinging around and around giggling uncontrollably. Merry and Pippin sung tavern songs terribly while accidentally kicking the bowls of peanuts to the floor with their large hairy feet. It was quite a sight, amusing to all onlookers.

Pippin nodded in Legolas's direction. The elf was sitting at the bar talking to the barkeep for he was the quiet type and preferred calm company.

"(Y/N), what do you think of Legolas?"

She stumbled and let out a loud belch before slurring out, "He's ssuper talll."

Pippin grinned, "I agree with you there as I am quite short as well! But he’s considered average if you compare him to Strider and Boromir.”

A confused look crossed the ranger's face for a moment before she giggled again.

“Oh....right....”

She then called out to Boromir sitting below her, “PASS ME ANOTHER PINT!"

The Gondorian immediately handed her another and she took a big swig from it.

With his elf hearing, Legolas listened in on the conversion. He couldn't help but smirk at the drunken stupidity of (Y/N). He observed that she had always been a carefree spirit and it seemed that alcohol brought that aspect out further. However, as soon as he heard her call for another pint he knew he needed to interfear. She was incredibly intoxicated and adding another drink to that would not be smart. Legolas left his stool and briskly walked towards the table of his friends.

(Y/N)’s grin widened when she saw the elven prince, "Legolas!"

Merry then insisted that he join their dancing and (Y/N) released another giggle, but the moment was interrupted as the female Ranger lost her footing and fell forward—off the table. She felt her body smack against something firm that smelled of pine and honey. Quite strange for something that smelled so good to be in this less than tasteful place. She squinted in puzzlement as the world around her distorted; it was upsidedown, twisted, warped.

What was going on?

Her gaze landed on bright blue eyes that stared down at her with uncertainty. That’s when the realization hit her. She was in Legolas’s arms. She frowned.....and her tunic was soaked wet? The alcohol must have spilled out of the tankard that she had been holding. She lazily examined Legolas and a giggle escaped her lips when she realized he was also covered in the ale.

(Y/N) continued to marveled at the blonde elf who was evaluated her drunken state. She laughed again. "You have muscly arms," she said with a slur.

Legolas sighed and made eye contact with Aragorn. The uncrowned king nodded, knowing exactly what Legolas was asking. They both silently agreed that (Y/N) had had enough.

“All right," the elf said as he put her down, "You're done." The last part of his sentence sounded stern, commanding, and showed that he was slightly pissed off—not that the drunk ranger could pick up on that.

Legolas didn't understand how she got so careless to drink this much while they were on a very important mission. Quite frankly, he was surprised Aragon had let it get this far as he had assumed the figure of older brother long ago; but alas, (Y/N) was a grown woman who was perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

The Elven Prince took the half filled pint from her hand and passed it to Boromir. Legolas then grabbed her arm and slightly tugged her in the opposite direction, but she reached out and snatched the unfinished pint from the Gondorian. She quickly took another big gulp before Legolas pulled the tankard from her hand once again. He firmly set it down on the table and shot Borimir a look.

The elf then pulled the grumbling ranger by her arm, more forcefully this time. He lead her to the barkeep and held her upright, "One room key please,"

The man looked at the state of the drunk woman and chuckled, "Good luck with that one."

He passed the elven prince the key and Legolas tugged (Y/N) to the crooked wooden stairs. He motioned for her to go up. She glanced at the step and let out another giddy laugh before lifting her leg. She was able to climb up a couple steps before falling back against Legolas chest. He easily caught her and held her waist until she regained some balance. She again lifted her foot but immediately stumbled. Legolas shook his head in frustration, bent down slightly, and scooped her up bridal style. He began to assend the stairs as she whined to go back for another pint. The elf’s ears turned light pink as he heard his friends snickering at the current situation he was in. He chose to ignore it; someone had to take care of her.

Legolas opened the door to the small room and sat (Y/N) down on the bed, her legs dangling off the side. He poured some water from a pitcher onto a towel and turned back to the drunk woman. He gently wiped her face with it, making sure to erase the dirt and dried blood from the outdoor adventure.

Legolas carefully began to clean the small wound on her head. He wished she would have done so earlier for an injury was not to be left untended; but alas, when she made a decision she stuck by it.

He watched as (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed and she tried to pull away from the cloth. "Cold, cold, cold," she grumbled like a child.

Legolas sighed, "(Y/N), don't make this difficult."

She groaned once more before letting out another giggle. The blonde elf raised his eyebrows in question.

"You," She slurred, "have prettyyy hair.”

She reached her hand out and grasped a handful of his blonde locks, “Can youu braid mine like that some day!?”

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

Legolas reached upward and carefully untangled her fingers from his hair for he was fearful that, in her drunk state, she would end up getting them stuck in it.

The Prince had dealt with a lot of intoxicated elves in his lifetime, but (Y/N)’s behavior was so innocent and seemed to be even more amusing. Humans—always an interesting species. He still was angry at her lack of self control when it came to drinking, but it was hard not to smile at her intoxicated actions and words.

The blue eyed elf's hands made their way to her hair. He gently pulled out the tie from the messily twisted bun, allowing her locks to cascade down her shoulders.

"(Y/N)," Legolas started.

She let out another giddy laugh.

Legolas sighed, "What is it now?"

"I thinks I had too many alcohols."

Legolas smirked at her improper grammar, "Yes, indeed you did."

She let out yet another giggle.

"(Y/N), your tunic is wet with ale and orc blood. Do you wish me to find a servant to assist you?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head while grasping onto his sleeve, "Youu just help me."

Legolas lips parted as he felt a blush creep up his neck and upon his ears. He cleared his throat, "(Y/N), I'm not su—"

The woman interrupted him, "You." She paused in attempt to gather her drunk words together, "I trustt you over some random strangeeer."

Legolas let out a nervous exhale but nodded.

He ruffled through her bag until he came across an extra black tunic. He grasped the soft fabric in his calloused hands and stood in front of her.

"Are you wearing anything under this?"

She nodded. Her words slurring as she spoke, "MHhmm, uunderrrgarments to coverr my brea—"

He interrupted her awkwardly, "(Y/N), I know how basic anatomy and clothing work."

Legolas gently took hold of the bottom of her dirty tunic and begun to pull it up and over her head, careful not to get any orc blood on her skin. He could feel his cheeks heating even more as her shirt rose; he was just grateful she was too intoxicated to notice. He gently untangled her arms from the disgusting fabric and removed it completely.

She sat on the bed with eyes closed as she begun to sway slightly. The blonde elf's gaze trailed down her body cautiously, taking in her appearance. Her undergarment encased her chest, covering what needed to be. However, it clearly accentuated the curves of her breasts and the shape of her torso. He watched as her skin and toned muscles rippled ever so slightly with small movements. She was utterly beautiful, despite her terribly drunken state. Legolas swallowed dryly. He felt the desire to touch her soft skin and inch his hands over her form crept into his mind; but he did not want that while she was intoxicated. Her well-being was his top priority. Besides, they were not courting. He doubted she even knew of his affections.

Legolas pulled the new, clean tunic over her head and assisted her in getting her arms through. He felt slightly relieved that it was over for the situation had been quite compromising.

If anyone had walked in......

If Aragorn had walked in.....

The elf’s mind wandered slightly at the thought of his friend. Strider made no move to assist Legolas with the intoxicated young woman that he had trained. It was almost as if he had let the elf take care of her on purpose.

Legolas blushed.

That cheeky bastard.

Aragorn had to have done that on purpose. Legolas remembered all the times Strider had paired him and the female Ranger to collect firewood and watch for Sauron’s enemies. The man’s twinkling eyes and mischievous looks......he definitely did this on purpose.

Legolas sighed once again before tuning back the (Y/N). He quickly pulled off her boots and then pulled back her covers. He then helped her climb into the soft comfort of the feathery bed. The Elven Prince sat on the edge of the mattress and gently ran his hand through her hair to coax her to sleep; and there he stayed watching over her.

.......

The female ranger walked down the stairs to the tavern. She was rubbing her temples and groaning with every step. Her head pounded like drums, the light blinded like white fire, and everything was just too damn loud.

She saw that most of the fellowship was all sitting around a table across the room, many of them with the same problem as her.

Legolas unexpectantly appearing near her and chuckled when she walked past him, "feeling better?"

She sent him a death glare and grumbled in response. She plopped down on the bench across from Merry and Pippin and next to Boromir.

The Gondorian nudged the female ranger, "Do you have any memory of last night?"

She groaned, "Why? What happened?"

At that moment Aragorn slid onto the bench next to (Y/N) with a big grin on his face. He spoke with a tone filled of taunting amusement, "Legolas took care of your drunk ass!”

(Y/N) groaned at that statement and put her head on the table.

Of fucking course.

815 notes · View notes

theundergroundstories · 4 years

Note

Hello sir, I am a short, reserved, and hairy 18 y/o Latino, yet I have always admired the tall athletic Spider-Man, specifically the one played by Tom Holland. Is there any way you can help me be more like him?

Why don’t you try out his body suit? Why be more like him when you can be him for a week? How does it feel to be slightly older, taller, and more athletic? Oh you love your new accent. Glad to hear it. Hope you don’t mind being a submissive bottom though. Tom is constantly around hot sexy dominant men so he... I mean you are their fuck toy. Have fun getting your ass pounded by dominant men.

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kat-tamin · 3 years

Text

bailemos (let’s dance)

Kat makes a plan. Rafael goes along with it. Sonny wonders what the fuck is happening.

Ship: Kat x Sonny x Rafael

Warnings: Threesome, Smut: Oral, Hands, Anal, Vaginal. The whole shebang.

Word Count: 4501

Normally during big cases like the Mickey Davis one, Sonny and Kat’s sex life would take a dip. Kat would have to take care of herself, a vibrator in one hand, phone in the other. But lately Sonny would come home from work and fuck her into the mattress, almost before she could properly greet him.

After meeting Barba, Kat thought she understood why. He was a frustrating man to deal with, the epitome of a snaky lawyer. It seemed like Sonny was getting out his stress by fucking her. That’s what she thought was happening, until Sonny admitted one night that he and Barba had history. Not just work history, but sexual history. Sonny said it basically ended as fast as it began, with Barba leaving New York soon after.

Kat wasn’t angry. They both had histories, some better left in the past, but she looked at Barba differently after that. She saw the brief glances he sent her boyfriend, packed with unsaid words. His frustrating lawyer talk now sounded like flirty banter to her ears. The reasoning behind their sex became clearer. Sonny wasn’t frustrated: he was turned on by Barba.

Kat expected to feel jealous, but her mind pictured the two men together. Her own movements got more passionate at the thought. She would go to court, her body having a Pavlovian response to Barba's presence, because Barba + Sonny = Kat cumming. She would watch the two men argue, her panties becoming wetter and wetter.

The Davis case was over, a hard one for everyone involved. For her own selfish reasons, Kat didn't want it to end. But then Sonny invited Rafael over to his and Kat’s new apartment for dinner. They both wanted to relax and catch up.

Sonny made homemade pasta with red sauce. Barba brought over a bottle of Tequila, straight from Mexico. After dinner, they moved to the living room, the two lawyers sitting on the sofa together. Kat curled up on the chair across from them taking in their conversation, her head swiveling between them, like she was watching a tennis match. She could debate with the best of them, but tonight she could barely hang on, their words like a roller coaster.

She sipped at her red wine, tuning out their words to look at their faces. The stress of the past few weeks had evaporated from her boyfriend, Sonny looking so happy to be in the company of his former mentor. Mentor slash ex, she reminded herself.

Barba seemed happy to be here too. He hadn’t excluded Kat from he and Sonny’s conversations, keen to get to know her too. It turned out they were both Bronx babies, and they talked extensively about the changes in the borough.

So he was nice, and, if Kat was honest, pretty damn sexy with that beard. It was too bad he had to shave it off for trial. Her mind wandered, wondering what his stubble would feel like between her thighs.

She shouldn’t be thinking this, she thought, tipping her head back to drain the rest of her wine. She was in a committed relationship with a great guy who treated her perfectly. She didn’t need anybody else.

Sonny said something, making Barba laugh. The older man’s hand dropped to Sonny’s knee, giving it a small squeeze. Sonny stopped laughing, his blue eyes growing wide. He looked at Kat, panicked. Barba quickly withdrew his hand, the tops of his cheeks turning pink.

Kat waited for the drop of jealousy to well up in her chest, but instead, a rush of arousal flooded her core.

It felt too warm in here. Her hand went to the buttons of her blouse, undoing the buttons until she had a nice deep V that showed off her cleavage. Both men eyed her, Barba's gaze going straight to her chest.

Kat stood up, reaching for the tequila and the shot glasses. “It’s a shame if we let this go to waste,” she said, pouring out three shots. She handed one to Barba along with a lime wedge, her fingers lingering too long to not be deliberate. Rafael’s brow raised. Kat just shot him a slight smirk, confirming his suspicions.

They all clinked glasses, throwing their heads back in unison. The alcohol burned all the way down Kat’s throat, heating up in her stomach. Her body felt like liquid, her courage soaring.

Barba sucked on his lime wedge, the obscene noise going straight to Kat's clit. His eyes never left her’s as he sucked every last drop from the fruit. He found her very attractive, with a tight, strong body apparent even under her clothes. Her bright brown eyes were arresting, pulling him in.

Kat leaned forward in her seat, putting her hand on Sonny’s knee. She massaged gently, rubbing up and down his thigh.“You didn’t even flinch, baby. Do you like that?”

Sonny lifted his brow, looking at her quizzically. “Yes…” He glanced at Barba, lifting his glass in a toast. “Very good bottle.”

“It’s a special occasion,” Rafael said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. He shifted in his seat, angling his body towards the man beside him. “Only the best for you, Sonny.”

The temperature of the room seemed to go up a couple of degrees, the tension thickening. Kat looked at Rafael, trying to communicate what she was thinking; what she wanted.

His mouth curved into a smirk, picking up on the vibes she was sending him. His hand went to the back of Sonny’s neck, tugging on the strands of his hair. Sonny shivered at his touch, once again looking at Kat, who was running a finger over her own lips. She was looking at him like a wolf looked at a rabbit. Sonny peered at Rafael, who had the same leer as his girlfriend.

“Okay, what’s...what’s going on?” Sonny tripped over his words, the drinks making his tongue thick in his mouth. They were acting weird. Not drunk, but just… weird.

“Do you wanna know a secret, Rafael?” Kat asked, tilting her head. Her brown eyes looked black with want, making Sonny even more confused.

“Tell me,” Rafael answered, his fingers still stroking patterns into Sonny’s skin. Sonny unconsciously leaned into his hand, seeking his touch.

“Sonny and I have been fucking non-stop since you got into town.” The words spilled out of Kat’s mouth before she could stop them. Not that she wanted to.

“Kat!” Sonny hissed, his eyes wide as saucers. What the fuck was she doing? He thought, his heart leaping into his throat.

“I think he was thinking about you,” Kat continued, as if Sonny hadn’t said anything. Her tone wasn’t accusatory or jealous, but an almost purr, ladened with arousal.

“Hmmm, is that true, cariño?” Rafael moved closer to Sonny, his mouth near his ear. His hot breath brought goosebumps to Sonny's skin. “Were you thinking of me?”

“I-” Sonny couldn’t speak, too baffled at what was going on. Rafael’s stubble scratched at his cheek, making his shudder. His girlfriend was watching them, her breathing slightly laboured.

She was turned on. Sonny’s mind spun, trying to make sense of it. She was turned on watching Rafael and Sonny together. She was biting down on her bottom lip, her nails digging into his thighs. What the fuck?

“Cariño, do you want this?” Rafael asked in a husky voice. He brushed his lips over the shell of Sonny’s ear. “Do you want me?”

Sonny hesitated, his gaze once more seeking Kat’s. She laid a hand on Sonny’s cheek, soft compared to Rafael’s scratchiness. “It’s okay, baby, tell the truth.”

It was like a dance, but Sonny didn’t know the steps. He looked from Rafael to Kat and back again, trying to get the rhythm. He paused, wondering if this was a good idea. But the beat was too intoxicating to step away.

He took a deep breath and joined their dance.

“Yes,” he answered in a rough voice. He looked between his current lover and his former one. “I want you. I want…” He swallowed, suddenly nervous about saying what he truly desired. “I want both of you.”

Kat let out a breath of surprise, sitting back in her seat. “Really?”

Sonny’s light brows drew together in a frown. “Of course I do.” She was his girlfriend, and no matter what she might say, he felt like being with just Rafael would be cheating.

Kat crossed her legs, trying to control the throb between her thighs. “I was just going to watch, but…” She looked at Rafael for reassurance, licking her lips nervously. “If that’s okay with you?”

Rafael let out a low chuckle, rolling his eyes. “You’re really asking if I’m okay having two of the sexiest members of the Special Victims Unit at the same time?” He got to his feet, offering his hands to Kat who took them without hesitation. “It would be my pleasure.”

Kat rose up with Rafael’s help, pausing to touch Sonny’s shoulder. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

It was no surprise that Rafael and Kat took the lead. They both loved to be in control, even more when they were in control of Sonny. He loved it even more, all his thoughts evaporating at their touch.

As soon as they entered the bedroom, Kat's lips were on Sonny's, frenzied and hungry. She undid the buttons of his shirt, so fast she almost ripped them off the fabric. Kat felt a mouth on her neck, strong hands on her hips. Rafael stood behind her, pressing into her. She could feel the slight bulge in his pants, a slight moan escaping her throat. Rafael kissed up and down her neck, stubble rubbing at her skin.

Once Sonny's shirt was on the floor, Kat turned to kiss Rafael, his tongue plunging into her open mouth. He tasted like lime and salt. His five o’clock shadow scratched at her skin, pain mixing with pleasure. She worked at the buttons on his shirt, a bit more carefully than she did with Sonny. His clothes looked a tad more expensive, and she knew she'd feel guilty if she wrecked the fabric.

Sonny went behind Rafael, helping him out of his shirt, leaving him naked from the waist up. Kat ran her fingers over his hairy chest, rubbing his soft stomach. His body was different from Sonny's, but it was just as sexy.

She ended their kiss with a soft nip at his lower lip, stepping away from Rafael. She intended to strip off her clothes slowly, give them a show, but the two men weren't even watching. They were drawn together like magnets, their bodies pressed close to each other. As she got rid of her top, Kat watched Sonny and Rafael kiss, almost manically. They kissed like they had to make up for lost time. Rafael gripped Sonny’s cheek, trying to bring his face as near as possible. Sonny sighed into his lips, feeling content. His hands roamed over Rafael’s body, remembering each dip and curve.

Kat wasted no time getting naked, cupping herself as she watched them kiss. Her body was positively burning with desire. She carefully reached for Sonny's belt, not wanting to disturb their makeout session. As soon as she tugged it off him, Sonny drew back from Rafael, breathing hard. He stepped out of his pants, stumbling in his haste. Rafael put out a hand to steady him, his own face flushed. "We have time, cariño. Don't worry."

Rafael turned his eyes to Kat, widening at her bare body. He had been so busy focusing on Sonny, he didn't notice her getting undressed. He swept his eyes up and down, taking in her part nipples and the dusk between her legs. His cock began to firm at the sight. "You're so beautiful, Katriona," he murmured. Her name sounded like honey in his mouth, making her even wetter.

"Thank you," she responded, moving towards him. "But I'm very interested to know what you're hiding under here." She touched the waistband of his trousers, trailing her fingers to touch his hardening cock.

Rafael's hips instinctively rutted against her hand, seeking friction. He undid his belt, shimmied off his trousers and briefs. Kat and Sonny gasped in unison as they finally saw Rafael's prize. His cock was shorter than Sonny's, but thicker with a delicious looking vein on the underside. Sonny wrapped his hand around the shaft, feeling like he was greeting an old friend.

Kat's mouth began to water, her cunt clenching at the sight. She sank to her knees in front of the two men, putting her face to face with their cocks. Sonny was already at full staff, precum leaking out of his slit. She started there, licking up his salty fluid, the taste familiar but exquisite. Her hand came up to hold his cock steady as she took him into his mouth. Sonny let out a loud groan, echoing in the small room. His girlfriend was one of the best cock suckers he ever had. She could swallow him whole without even flinching.

As she began to bob her head, Kat's other hand went to Rafael, squeezing the base of his cock with her strong fingers. He was so fat, she almost couldn't fit her whole hand around him. She let her hand go to his balls, heavy and full. She fondled him, still sucking Sonny off.

She felt Sonny’s hips get more and more erratic, a signal that he was close. She wrenched her head back, switching to engulf Rafael's cock. She took all of him in one swoop, making him shout. Her other hand jerked Sonny off, using her own spit as lube. Her mouth was hot and wet around Rafael's cock, her tongue swiping along his skin. Pleasure radiated down his spine, growing with thrust into her mouth.

Over the next few minutes, Kat pleasured them both, alternating between her mouth and her hand. Her mind went blissfully blank, only focusing on her instinctual need to please them. Wetness was leaking from her cunt, leaving a puddle between her legs. Her knees were burning from the cheap rug, but she paid it no attention.

She just needed their cum.

Rafael put his hand in her hair, yanking her away from his cock. She whined at the loss, her tongue going for Sonny's. Rafael stopped her with another tug of her hair. "What do you want, Katriona?"

"Your cum," she panted, not even thinking. "My face. My mouth." She looked up at Sonny, her eyes pleading. "Please cum for me."

Fuck. Sonny's hips stuttered, so close, her words spurning him on. "Open wide," he said through gritted teeth.

Kat leaned back on her heels, Rafael's hand still tugging on her hair. She put her hands on both their cocks, quickening her strokes. She opened her mouth into a large O, waiting like a baby bird for food from its mother.

Sonny came first, a stream of cum hitting her cheek. She reached her tongue out further, catching his release. Rafael came a moment after, shooting his cum right into her mouth.

Kat swallowed as much as she could, their seeds mixing together in her stomach. It was salty and delicious, coating her tongue. A few strands landed on her face and chest, painting her dark skin white.

Sonny thought she never looked more beautiful, cum spilling from her mouth. Her brown eyes were dark with desire, her cheeks a faint pink.

Rafael thought so too, cupping her chin to get a better look at her. "So beautiful," he murmured, swiping his thumb along her bottom lip. He brought it to his own mouth, tasting his and Sonny's mixture.

Kat got to her feet, unsteady from being on her knees for so long. She stumbled to the bed, laying down on her back. Her chest was heaving, making her tits jiggle.

"Now, this won't do," Rafael announced. He knelt on the bed beside her, looking at her body. Her thighs were sticky with her juices. He licked his lips. "We can't leave you like this, now can we?"

Sonny got on the bed, tucking himself behind Kat. She placed herself between his legs, his chest pressing into her back. Sonny tweaked a nipple, making her jerk in surprise. “You want Raf to eat you out, doll?”

Kat nodded enthusiastically, thrilled her fantasy was about to become a reality.

Rafael knelt between her legs, his hands ghosting over her shins. “What do you say?” the lawyer asked in a mocking tone.

Damn him and his fucking words. Kat was no sub in the bedroom but something about Rafael’s voice made her want to obey. “Please, Raf… Touch me.”

Rafael’s face broke into a wicked grin. “With pleasure.”

He dipped his head between her thighs, cleaning up the mess she had made on herself. Goosebumps erupted all over her body, made worse by Sonny touching her breasts. Her boyfriend played with her nipples, twisting and pinching softly.

She needed more. Her hips jerked to try and meet Rafael’s mouth. He just chuckled softly, looking up at her. “Impatient.” His gaze shifted to Sonny. “Hold her down, will you?”

Sonny obeyed, his strong hands moving to Kat’s hips, pinning her down. She whined, craning up to look at him. Sonny just grinned, enjoying the tortured look in her eyes.

Rafael finally moved his head to her core, his stubble scraping her sensitive thighs. She gasped at the sensation, another drop of wetness escaping her pussy. Rafael caught it with his tongue, licking into her entrance. She wanted to thrust against him, but Sonny stopped her again, his fingers surely leaving bruises.

Rafael moved to her clit, sucking the bud into his mouth. Kat threw her head back, almost knocking into Sonny’s chin. “Fuck, Raf… Just like that.”

His talented tongue circled and swiped along her clit, sending sparks up her spine. Pressure began to build in her core. She felt fingers at her entrance and eagerly spread her legs.

Rafael stopped his movements, ignoring Kat’s whine, to ask Sonny: “How many fingers can she take?”

Sonny thought back, biting his lip. His face curved into a smirk, nuzzling at Kat’s hair. “3 easily, especially when she’s this wet.” In honesty she could take more, but Sonny wanted her to be able to do a few rounds tonight.

Rafael shot them a decisive nod, going back down her body, flexing his fingers. Sonny was right: Kat swallowed all three fingers with ease. Kat shrieked at the intrusion, Sonny having a hard time keeping her still. Rafael’s fingers were bigger than Sonny’s, stretching her further than her boyfriend usually did.

Rafael thrust into her, angling his fingers to press into her front wall. His tongue didn’t stop, lapping at her clit. Kat screwed her eyes shut, her pleasure building and building.

Sonny could feel her shaking, so close to the edge. He put his lips near her ear, whispering: “Let go, doll.”

She did, with a long, loud scream. Wetness coated Rafael’s fingers as she came. He kept thrusting into her, letting her down easy until she stopped twitching. He withdrew, putting his fingers in his mouth to taste her sweet juices. The tangy liquid tasted like sweet nectar, straight from the Gods.

Sonny let her hips go, rubbing the red skin tenderly. She opened her eyes, looking glassy eyed. “How was that?” he asked her, pushing a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead.

“Amazing,” she answered lazily. She looked at Rafael and repeated her words: “Amazing. Fuck, you got a mouth on you.”

“So do you,” he replied, bringing her in for a kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, a bolt of pleasure running down her spine.

Kat sat up, rolling off Sonny’s body. She laid down on her stomach, exhaustion settling in her bones. “Okay, your turn. I need a minute.”

Sonny’s head turned to Rafael, his gaze expectant. His blue eyes swiped down his ex’s body to his half-hard cock. The sight made his own dick twitch. He got to his knees to give Rafael a kiss. Their tongues danced with each other, wet noises emerging from their mouths.

Sonny felt Rafael’s strong hands moving to his ass, kneading the pliant flesh. A thrill went through Sonny’s body. He knew what was coming next.

Rafael swiped a finger down Sonny’s crack. “I missed your ass, cariño.”

His words sent shivers through Sonny’s body. “I missed you in my ass,” he admitted, swiping his tongue along Rafael’s lower lips.

Rafael groaned at the admission, his grip tightening on Sonny’s hips. His cock hardened to it’s full state, precum leaking out of the tip. “Get on your knees.”

There was no room for discussion. Sonny got onto the bed on his hands and knees, his ass in the air, his face near Kat. She watched, her gaze sharp, taking in everything.

Rafael looked down at Sonny’s pink hole, virgin tight with disuse. It would take a bit to open him up, but Rafael was confident in his abilities.

“Do you have…” he trailed off as Kat rolled off the bed, rummaging in the bedside table. She emerged with a bottle of lube, almost empty from use.

“Sorry,” she said, handing it to him. She walked to stand beside Rafael, putting a hand on the base of Sonny’s spine to signal her whereabouts.

She followed Rafael’s movements as he drizzled a healthy amount of oil on his fingers and Sonny’s ass. She took the bottle from him when he was done, like a nurse in an operating room.

“Have you done this before?” Rafael paused to ask her, lube dripping onto Sonny’s cheek, making the other man flinch in surprise.

Kat nodded. “Not with a guy, though.”

Rafael’s brow shot up. “Really?”

Kat shrugged; shot him a coy smile. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, counsellor.”

The title went straight to Rafael’s cock. Normally he abhorred being called that in the bedroom, but he found himself liking it coming from her mouth. His mind spun, picturing himself fucking into her, Kat moaning the title into his ear.

Sonny’s ass wiggled impatiently, drawing Rafael back to the present. “Sorry, cariño.” He rubbed his finger around Sonny’s asshole, making the other man jerk back into his touch. He started slowly, pressing his ring finger into Sonny, working past the tight ring of muscle.

Kat’s breath caught in her chest as she saw Sonny swallow Rafael, the man’s finger disappearing into his ass. Rafael, very patiently, stretched Sonny until he could fit another finger.

Sonny moaned at the intrusion, pleasure radiating at his spine. Every thrust of Rafael’s fingers brought sparks behind his lids. It didn’t take long before he was meeting his movements, seeking more.

“Are you ready?” Rafael asked, rubbing Sonny’s left cheek.

“Fuck yes,” Sonny asked, his voice strangled. He was already panting.

Rafael smirked, withdrawing his fingers out of Sonny. Before he could adjust to the emptiness, Raf pressed the tip of his cock to his hole. He slid into Sonny, Kat watching as it went in, inch by slow inch.

Rafael bottomed out, his pubic bone pressing against the swell of Sonny’s ass. It was heavenly, feeling Sonny’s ass around his cock. He was so hot and tight. “Good boy, cariño.”

He began to thrust into Sonny, slow and steady, letting him get used to the stretch. Sonny’s walls clenched around his cock, drawing a loud groan from him. He moved his hips faster and faster, rocking into Sonny.

His cock dragged along Sonny’s prostate, lightning shooting through his body. With every thrust, Sonny moved closer to the edge. It had been so long since he came like this, he wasn’t sure how much he could take.

Kat’s hand went to her clit, her core dripping at the two men fucking. She circled the bud, desire building in her abdomen. Rafael’s gaze shot to her then to her hand. He moved his hands from Sonny’s hips to his waist, hoisting him up, to the blonde’s shock. Sonny yelped at the change in position, Rafael’s cock hitting at a different angle.

“Get under him,” Rafael said to Kat through gritted teeth.

Again, there was no room for arguing. Kat slid under Sonny’s body, spreading her legs. She grabbed his cock, red and angry looking, and guided it into her pussy. Rafael snapped his hips, pushing Sonny deep into Kat. The two lovers moaned in unison at the feeling.

Sonny thought he was going to pass out in pleasure. With a cock in his ass and his own in a pussy, he felt fireworks going off in his body. His eyes rolled back in his head at the push and pull. Every atom, every molecule, every cell of his body was screaming. He was going to die between the two people he adored most.

Rafael set the pace, fast and rough. He fucked Kat through Sonny, his eyes never leaving her face. Her mouth was open, small mewls spilling out. It wouldn’t be long for each of them to cum. Rafael bit his lip, trying to stave it off. He tried to think of something, anything to keep his body from giving in.

It was no surprise that Sonny came first, with an almost animalistic howl. He would have collapsed onto Kat if Rafael hadn’t caught him, holding him up as he spilled into his girlfriend.

Rafael was still fucking him, and it became too much for Sonny.

“Stop,” he gasped, trying to pull out of Kat. “I need…”

Rafael pulled himself out of Sonny’s ass, letting the younger man move out of their embrace. Sonny was barely out of the way before Rafael pushed into Kat in one swoop, Sonny’s cum making the transition easy.

Kat moaned at the switch. It felt deliciously dirty, two men right after the other. She met Rafael’s thrusts with her own, close to the edge. Her hands gripped the sheets, holding on for dear life. So close, so close…

Sonny saw the signs of her orgasm. He was exhausted, but he knew what to do. He put his mouth on Kat’s breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth.

His mouth mixed with Rafael’s thrusts made her pleasure peak, waves of ecstasy rolling through her. She screamed as it came, over and over again. The orgasm seemed never-ending.

The clutching of Kat’s walls sent Rafael over the edge as well, his cock spilling into her with a twitch. The pressure in his lower back ebbed, relief pouring into veins.

He stilled his movements, making sure Kat was done. When she shot him a shaky nod, he stepped away. Sonny and Rafael’s cum dripped out of her, making a mess on the sheets.

“Well,” Rafael said in between loud gulps of air. He looked between the couple, who were red faced and exhausted, curling into each other. “Maybe I should come to the city more often.”

#kat tamin #sonny carisi #rafael barba #svu #fanfic #smut #*#tamisi #barisi #barmin #?

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im-pretending-imthere-already · 3 years

Text

by the warm current

As kids, my sister and I spent our summers near the river, often falling on our long garments. Our knees scraped and bruised by the sharp rocks that lay beside the strong, warm stream. The hot days rushed by as we spent our hours playing under the hot, blinding sun. If my sister adored anything, it was birds. Often we spent our days searching for them in the scorching heat of the summer, looking for all the wings that have been neatly crafted, threaded into shape. Our collection of feathers of all colours were kept safe, hidden to preserve their infinite beauty, kept in a wooden rustic box under our bed. The box neatly tucked away between the sheets that were perfectly stored by mother. One grim evening, one of my older siblings had found our box hidden between the worn out blankets, that night we were forced into womanhood, our childhood was stripped away from us. Our summers were no longer warm, our knees left with scars.

What is it to truly be a woman? A question I still struggle with. Reverend Michael often referred to womanhood as preparing to serve God by serving your husband, which we spent the following years doing, leaving our ambitions and dreams of independence behind. Our personalities were to be crushed under the high expectations of becoming nothing other than slaves which men used. Our days were spent caring for our younger siblings who occupied our time dirtying the floors we just scrubbed. Our womanhood, reduced to becoming mothers and leaving our aspirations for our sons. Too tall, too confident, too short, too skinny, too immodest, too fat, too lanky, too talkative, too hairy, too loud, too aggressive, our existence is nothing more than a checklist for men to choose from. Growing up, I admired adulthood. I admired the idea of growing up to serve my husband, the idea of dressing modestly and spending my time cleaning, to become a woman. But as I grew into that woman, I began despising it.

My teenage years were regulated by the women of the church who made it their mission to crush my dreams, my life was to be sacrificed for god. Waking up to the screaming children of the church who demanded breakfast, my days were the same every single day. After the tedious mornings of cooking, cleaning and caring tirelessly, we met the citrus trees sprinkled with the soft dew on their delicate leaves in the community garden as we planned to prepare our annual lemon pie. Every year we were to prepare a feast full of food, including our lemon pie as the dessert for the mating party. This glamorous party was only a facade, a sweet glaze over a dark oppressive, controlled, and abusive future. This year was different, however, as I was becoming a woman of age, all day I had been thinking about what was to come, the life I was forced to have, pushed into a designated role my whole life. This is it, this is the dream of the church, this is what my life was to be, what my family had planned, what the reverend had envisioned.

That day I realised I couldn't do this, after seeing all the women blatantly eyed by the men of the church, scanned from bottom to up, graded as if they were a gift to be expected, a helpless little kitten to be chosen from a shelter or rescued from a basket left on the road. My older sister stood beside me, we glared at each other exchanging the same thoughts. Our life was more than this, our dreams were not to be forgotten, hidden in the blankets of our mind. I had heard about a couple of people who had escaped before, I didn't know how to but we had to get out. That night I decided to do the unthinkable, I had to make a plan, I had to take action, I had to escape this cage and fly away.

Reverend Michael was my father however he was never a typical father, more like a shepherd grazing his sheep, controlling us to become nothing more than slaves for his sick fantasies. He slept in the cabin house beside ours, but I knew he was going to arrive late today due to the ceremony, like every year before. It was the perfect time as if the universe aligned for our freedom. In my nightgown, I slid out as my sister was fast asleep. The night was dark, the air thick and foggy, the moon barely lit watching over me as I ran barefoot, in my white gown to the reverend's cabin. I knew where to look, under the vase he kept his spare key, which I used to unlock his door. I walk in knowing exactly where to find what I'm looking for, his diary, kept in the last drawer of his desk conveniently hidden in between his bibles. I flick through the delicate pages looking for something useful when I stumble across the gold mine. It wrote the name of a woman named "Angela Zachery" and her cabin number''14", suspected of breaking out "Mary Williams". I quickly close the book, return his diary precisely into its spot and leave the same way I entered, leaving no trace behind me.

The coming night my mind was occupied with one thought, cabin 14. I couldn't just leave, I had to make sure it was clear. It took a couple of nights which felt like forever but eventually, I got there. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a Friday night, everyone had got to their cabins early after a hard day of work and the daily evening lecture was longer than usual. The pathways were empty, the road clear. I made my way, a little more professional than the night of the ceremony, in my brown dress and handwoven cardigan that wrapped its threads around my shoulders supporting me through my journey. If I was found by any person or even if "Angela" was a scam I would end up 6 feet deep into the ground before sunrise. I took the chance walking across the church to his cabin, no one was around, no one to be seen spying. I knocked on the door anticipating the worst, painting the images of my death. My life dissolving into nothing more than a forgotten story in the depths of my memories, an old story tale kept at the back of a dusty bookshelf. The door opened ever so slightly as I felt the fear shake through my body. She grabbed me inside so hard I stumbled inside falling to my knees in front of her as he shut the door aggressively. I introduced myself and explained my story and she sat there listening. Her eyes stared at me aggressively yet with a shadow of love. Her agreement brought me feelings, flushing my skin, red. Independence, freedom, individuality, expression, life. All books that she dusted alive within an instant. My dreams of independence and freedom rushed back through my bones to the crevices of my every thought. It was scheduled for Thursday night.

The night before the escape was probably one of the hardest and most important nights of my life, I was breaking the cage and finally getting the opportunity to fly, but the thought of leaving everything and everyone I knew terrified me. I wasn't to ever clean after my siblings, but I wasn't ever going to see them again. I wasn't going to have to make lemon pie for the church, but I wasn't going to celebrate with all my family ever again. Laying in my bed I couldn't get my eyes to shut as I laid there staring at the ceiling. The only support holding me together was the sheets I laid in and the light breathing of my sister beside me.

My bags packed, my thoughts collected, my breathing stable. This was it, this was my freedom. I get to leave and not look back. It was starting to get dark, the last evening to spend in this hell of a place. The trees rustling in the wind and air smelling of wood fire. I had kissed each of my younger siblings goodbye, hoping I would remain alive in their memories. My sister spent that evening reading, which we did often. An outlet we used to let our imagination roam free to live the lives we wish we had. As we put our coats on we stared at each other with fear, the sun had set and the sky was so empty reflecting the withdrawal we were to be hit with. We looked at each other and left, never to set foot in the cabin ever again.

Angela has sent some, waiting for us. He had a car organized outside the fence, we just had to make it outside. In the dark night, we threw our long dress off and climbed the fence gripping the holes with all our strength, looking back I could see Angela in the distance leaving. Climbing faster and faster, our bodies shaking with fear, our hearts anticipating our freedom. Hand over hand, foot over foot, we rose higher and higher. It felt like forever until we reached the top, then at the tip I stared into my sister's eyes when I heard a bang! My soul left my body for a moment from the fear as I saw my sister's body growing limp, her back falling into the fence becoming one with it. I stared into the sky for a moment, knowing I was targeted, I had no time. I had to leave my sister behind, running my way down the fence. I felt the wind brushing my cheeks, the heat irritating my skin. As I reached the last few steps I fell onto the floor, my vision blurring into two. There was no option but to get up, leaving my sister hanging on the fence and running into the truck.

As fast as my life gained sweetness it got bitter again. I stayed in a home with many people, I had food and clothing. But life without my sister was hard, the image of her murder remaining drilled into my head. I saw the soul leave her body, I saw her life end. I often wonder how different things would have turned out if I never left, if I was caught, if we moved a metre to the right if we left on Friday?

My favourite place grew to become the beach, reminding me of the warm river my sister and I loved ever so dearly, connecting our dreams to every nook of the world. As I sit here today, on the warm sand, I often find myself looking beside me to find my sister's spirit constantly gifting me with feathers. Today I have the privilege of sitting on this beach, feeling the wind through my hair, the cool breeze on my shoulders and my sister's feathers can be forever stored, kept safe and loved, not to be a secret but to be a memory of resilience.

-F.A

#relgioustruama #sister #bestfriend #cult #love #childhood #creative #short #shortstory #poetic #poetry

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

Happy New Year, and hello 1000 followers!!

Hello dear readers! Welcome in my writing nook, and welcome in 2021 - FINALLY!!

2020′s been a long year. A sad year. A year that felt like March for 9 months straight. A year that left a little dent in my corner of the couch as I was huddled away, writing in the most awkward positions because my cats tried to get on my lap alongside my laptop (it doesn’t fit - trust me, kitties).

But, it was also a fun year; I could spend long hours reading and writing to my heart’s content. Meeting new people, and discovering kinks and fantasies I never knew were even a thing. To that; thank you my fellow horny bitches, you gave me the perseverance to work on getting proper orgasms, buying a sex toy and making my boyfriend very confused about what-the-hell was going on with me. (thankfully the shock is now gone and he’s enjoying this new horny me far too much 😂)

In more fun news; I just noticed my once small reader tribe has crossed the 1000 follower-mark (WHAT?! HOW?! YOU GUYS AND GALS ARE AMAZING -- *bounces off the walls*)

I don’t really know how to thank you all for your love and support in reaching this unique milestone. But to those who are just crazy about reading, let me share with you something from my vault of short stories - a little side project next to this blog, to practise my writing ❤️

The Keeper

This new world order was hardly orderly.

It was dusty chaos, filtering in through the sole newspaper-covered window above the door that had just veered at the return of the Old Man, his persistent coughs making that same dust curl and swirl through the air.

Feeling my old bones crack, I took a moment, stretching out on my paper throne of Descartes’ body of work, before I jumped aside so he could add his new-found treasures to this grand collection of paper-bound napping nooks.

It was a good new stack. Six thick covers, the pages yellowed and musky in smell. Perfection, really. Old, gold, glorious perfection. But the Old Man didn’t seem to share my sentiment; his leathery face was wrinkled with concern, heavy brows furrowing like a thick hairy caterpillar above his gentle eyes.

Finding a new spot I swished my long tail, more dust swirling up in the single streak of light that caressed the silhouette of the Old Man.

I hadn’t seen him this worried since we met all those long years ago, his warm hands taking me to this dusty good place that I called my home. Our home. A home that oozed old world magic; thousands of books all lined up in ceiling-high cabinets, their vastness somewhat resembling the sky-high buildings outside; that is however where the comparison stopped. This place was warm, kind, soothing. It smelled nice, felt nice, housed mice - my favourite.

Outside, the world was cold, white, wicked. It smelled of chemicals and disdain, the presence of nature and animals one not wished for in its green, disorganised beauty. But the Old Man had been different. Had been. Right now he moved with the same hasty manner the men outside did, his heavy feet moving daintily past the hastily stacked collections, the structure in them long gone.

The same had happened to the ever structured and unchanging man I once knew; The Old Man was looking older each day, which was strange for a being I thought immaculate and immortal. In my long years of life I had never truly ever seen any differences in this man, his wrinkles ever wrinkly and his eyes ever curious. But, these past few weeks I started having my doubts. I never liked change, but change was suddenly here in abundance. I could hear it on the nervous streets outside. I could feel it in my aching bones and the knits in my pelt. I could feel it in the lack of scratches I received, the Old Man suddenly more occupied with the world outside than in.

This new world order was a terrible thing indeed.

Stretching up my aching back, I curled my tail around my paws, watching as the man passed yet again, his eye catching mine for just a second, his feet slowing down so he could give me a long overdue sign of affection.

“Hello Minnie.” He said gently, his warm voice making my muscles tremble in delight, “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait yet a moment longer. Duty calls!” And with that he disappeared once more, the door hastily closed behind him as he moved back out into the streets that no longer had names.

Everything was changing and I didn’t like it one bit.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away - or actually a few streets from here - I lived a perilous life of hunting, fighting, mating and waiting. You see: I was not made for the streets I lived in, the large neon lit signs up above too bright for my eyes and the food too sparse to feed the real hunger inside of me. The hunger that goes beyond the growling of the stomach; it was the hunger that gnawed at my brain and my heart as I watched dark figures pass by beneath their umbrellas, their eyes not directed at me, but at my much shinier counterparts on those sky-licking white screens.

e-Cat, e-Book, e-Love..e-Life. The words sparked with promise on beaming backgrounds, luring in the attention of the drifting souls down on the streets. Luring them in to look up, up and away from the truth that could be found right at their feet. A truth that once, an age or so ago, was so very normal.

It must have been a good time then. With ear-scratches and hugs and real talking; I had once even seen humans talk so close to another that their lips touched. And they seemed to find it very agreeable indeed, their lips curling in what the Old Man had explained to be smiles.

Smile (verb)

Form one's features into a pleased, kind, or amused expression, typically with the corners of the mouth turned up and the front teeth exposed.

Humans are peculiar beings.

Then, one day, someone looked down, not up. A man, a dreamer probably, his step shortly disrupted from his travels as our eyes met and, just like that, I was invited into his life, his shovel-sized hands picking me up and stuffing my scrawny bones beneath his warm jacket.

The Old Man.

“Why..I thought you had gotten rid of this?” A new voice entered the small haven of books, the door swiftly closed again. Their hushed voices made me blink open my eyes, a flickering light turned on to brush artificial light over the Old Man and the new person. A Young Woman.

She was pretty I think. Her hair cut just beneath her ears and her body wrapped in a large, fresh smelling jacket. I liked her smell. She smelled of my creatures, two males I think. And so with a little more curiosity I yawned and stretched, welcoming the two back in my domain.

“Hi there Minnie.” The Old Man wistfully scratched me behind the ear.

His voice sounded fragile as crystal, his eyes looking equally translucent as they shimmered in the low light of the single light bulb.

“OH..what am I to do, Dee? It’s just..” He turned back towards the woman, her eyes still looking in honest amazement at the huge collection of books stacked up high to the ceiling.

“Well..this is more than a ..little problem, Badger.” She looked back at him, teeth biting down onto her lip in thought. Humans sure had a weird way of expressing distress. Why didn’t she just hiss or growl? Furl up that pretty mane of her? - At least she got the eyes right.

With a quick flick of her large pupils she looked at me, then the books again.

“Alright. I’ll..I’ll see what we can do.” And with that she disappeared back out of the door, back into the mayhem of white light and clicking feet on cold pavement.

“Hahaha. Oh, aren’t you a happy little purr-machine?” His large hand stroked comfortably over my back, my legs stretching out a little further to give him extra length to touch and soothe.

“How about I read you something, hmm? Ever seen one of these?” He picked an object from one of the shelves, the thing foreign, but smelling of forests and sweat. I liked that smell.

“It’s a book. A very old, nearly extinct..book.” He shuffled a little in his seat, his hand scratching over my chin as he sensed my shock-surprise at being moved. And then he opened this so-called ‘book’, his deep voice sending warm vibrations through my body, my eyes closing slightly as I let him take me away to another world. A world with a thousand trees. And nymphs. And gods - which I think from his descriptions, are like humans but then ever older.

Every few minutes or so he would turn a page, a new whiff of smells entering my satisfied nostrils. I was warm, safe and quite content, my muscles vibrating along with the man’s words as he relieved the ache deep in my soul. I had never heard or smelled such words as his, but I liked them very much.

A loud crack burst open the door, that fierce white light burning my eyes as I quickly skedaddled, getting out of the line of sight of whatever horrific beasts were here to break into my sanctuary. Humans, their smells not to my liking. Too much rubber, plastic and other synthetic whiffs.

“Take him.” One spoke, the others following his curt instructions, the Old Man being mercilessly dragged from the corner where he trembled like a child, his large body not small enough to hide behind the books like I could.

It all happened so quickly that I wasn’t sure whether it had happened at all, the small room quiet and the dust settled before I dared to look again. I waited and waited. The night came and went, but the Old Man didn’t return. My hunger did though. The gnawing, aching emptiness made my bones clatter in their furry furbishments and I tried my best to understand the words the Angry Men had spoken.

“Incinerate elsewhere. Risk of attention. Incinerate elsewhere. Risk of attention.” The words had near eaten me alive when the dark door opened finally, the satisfying scent of two tomcats alerting me it was her. She was not happy though, my heart already aching for her before she could switch on the light, her tears muffled behind a pale hand.

“Oh gods.” She squirmed when the light bulb flickered on, her eyes roaming over a new trail that led over the floor, the smell reminding me of food..though I hadn’t found any, anywhere.

“Oh gods..Badger.” Her eyes started to rain, her lip trembling in pain as she cried out.

That is the moment when I crawled out of my hiding, my careful paws walking towards her until she noticed me, her lips curling up in what I learned was that good emotion. A smile. Though on her it looked a little weird - were there more types of smiles?

“Minnie.” She whispered, picking me up to cuddle until our short interaction was roughly disturbed by a sound outside. “Shit..Fuck..Okay we need to go.”

And, again, I found myself in the insides of a jacket. This time hers.

From the insides of the nice smelling jacket I heard a million voices spinning around us. Some human. Some metallic. Some whispering, some loud. My ears were folded flat against my skull by the time the world quieted again, the two of us landing on a mattress in a mal-furnished room; there were simply too few comfortable places to lay on, the mattress the only surface that was to my liking.

The Young Woman got up, her nose sniffling with the threat of more tears as she conjured up some food and water. Strange food and water. The type that was the standard these days. Tasteless. Shapeless. Soulless food. And disgustingly sterile water. Blergh.

But thankfully this new place brought me something good: the woman was more than eager to hug and cuddle, her body sinking down onto the mattress again so I could crawl up to her, her eye-water sinking into my fur as she held me close.

I wanted to speak to her then, and I did. I talked and talked and talked. But I’m not sure if she understood me. Why was all this water coming from her eyes? Was she the goddess of rain? I leaned in heavier into her warm chest and felt my muscles buzz with eagerness.

And then she found it. My greatest secret. The thing that the new world order was supposed to hate according to the Old Man.

Scratching my chin, I easily surrendered it to her, her fingers removing the small tube from my collar, unscrewing and finding two things: a miniscule piece of paper, reminding me of the smell of home, and some type of metal pill-tube-thing.

Silently she read the words, her lip trembling again with emotion, before they turned into a watery smile - happiness, love, good!

“Oh, I will..I will.” She mumbled.

Curiosity sparked in me and I spoke to her again, begging for her attention: “Please tell me what it reads!” -- And of course she couldn’t understand my words, but the sentiment was clear I think, for she now finally read it aloud:

“Code Minerva. Keeper of Wisdom. 112049 - Erase after uploading. Ps. she loves ear scratches.”

It was the day the new world order fell into true chaos.

I liked it very much.

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama @aletheladyinred

#1000 followers #happy new year #and a different bit of fiction #no idea if anybody would want to read this #but here you go!#celebration time #yaay

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