#head perhaps bouncing from side to side in rhythm.

[pin-yao]

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The Bimbo Bounce (I’m back)

Alliteration is a useful hypnotic tool. It gives sentences a bit of extra potency, makes mantras easier to remember, and improves the lifespan of a suggestion pretty considerably. That's the operating theory, anyway. Shall we explore?

Bounce for me; that's simple enough to start things off.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

The phrase sticks, somehow, even though it sounds a little silly. Something seems to make it linger in your head. It has a unique feel to it, a quality you can't quite put your finger on. The syllables seem to echo: bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

But how does a bubbly brain behave? Like a bubble, as you'd expect, with something creating a volume of empty space inside while thoughts slide smoothly across the expanding surface, oily and slick. At first, it feels like your thoughts have more area across which to spread. Your thoughts shift slightly, glistening and growing ever more thin. At least, until the bubble pops.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

And burst it must. Bubbles are ephemeral entities, aren't they? It's alright; you'll scarcely notice. When the bubble pops, your thoughts that are currently floating on the surface will splash to the floor. The empty space inside will rush rapidly outward, turning you into a bit of an airhead. Seems fitting, doesn't it?

Bursting bubbly brains blow pink

Bounce, and pop.

You'll feel the splash like a sudden surge of lust and arousal coursing through your body. The rush of air inside your head might cause you to get light-headed, so you'll spread your legs to steady yourself. Of course that's what you're doing, isn't it? Steadying yourself, not putting yourself on display. Right.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

Burst bubbly brains blew pink

Bimbos brainlessly bounce.

As you begin to bounce to a silent rhythm, it occurs to you that some bubbles have a kaleidoscopic sheen when you look at them, but others have a very solid color within. Your brain-bubble was bubblegum pink, now that you think about it.

Well, as much as you can presently think about anything. That pop did more than just fill your head with empty air. You can feel your intelligence leaking into the space around you, escaping...your absent brain can't contain it any longer.

Bimbos bounce their brains away.

If your brain was still intact, you might think to stop bouncing so you'd be better able to think. But your brain exploded in a flash of pink and wet, and now you're as blank as a bouncing bimbo should be. You're able to understand my words out of some remnant of intuition, but if you pause to try and think them through, everything just goes pink and pops again.

Blank bimbos bounce brainlessly

That seems sensible enough, especially since bouncing feels pretty good. The splash of wet pink thoughts from the pop made your body more sensitive, perhaps by providing you with better things on which to focus. You certainly feel blank, and you are bouncing. Are you a bimbo, though?

Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos

A side effect of the bubbly brain from before is that you're finding all of this pretty amusing. Certain bits of sentences make you want to giggle and smile, even when you can barely understand them. Might've let too much of your intelligence leak away, but it's all just so silly, isn't it?

Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce

If you were a bimbo, would you be able to tell? Would you find the situation you're in far more amusing than you should? Would your body be becoming progressively more sensitive as your empty head adjusts to having no thoughts to contain and feeds all that focus to your hungry nerves? Would the bouncing be this arousing all by itself?

That depends primarily on what sort of bimbo you've become, but the answer should be clear by now. Each bounce produces a wave of pleasure, each wave pushes more of the remnants of your brains into the air. The less brains left in your head, the more you smile and giggle. The giggles produce flashes of pink that remind you how very silly and simple this is. All you did was bounce.

Bouncing blank bubbly bimbos are brainwashed

Bounces can take all sorts of forms. You can bounce bits of your body with your hands, bounce up and down in a chair, bounce with the aid of the springs below the bed...all to the same end. Everything is turning pink and wet and silly for you.

This leaves you with only two options: You could let yourself settle, riding the high of the blank bubbly brainwashed bimbo until your brain somewhat reluctantly returns to your head. I won't stop you, you'd simply wake after a few minutes of coming back down.

Or the blank bouncing brainwashed bimbo could shift the energy from bouncing just a little and satisfy that lust your body is feeling. The only real hazard is that your head is already full of air, and cumming your brains out when they've already mostly evaporated could leave you pretty dumb before it's all said and done.

But you've already made a choice, or it's already been made for you. My words could be passing by almost invisibly as the bouncing subsides, or you may already be excitedly picking a toy to bounce on or a rhythm to use while you stroke yourself senseless.

Either way, everything will fade into a yummy pink haze before much longer. I wonder how much bimbo brain you'd need to bounce away before the condition became a bit stuck...

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly

Bubbly brains are bound to burst

Burst bubbly brains blow pink bubbles

Blank brainless bimbos bounce

Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos

Blank bouncing bimbos are brainwashed

Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce

Go on, up and down, bouncing yourself all brainless and bubbly. You'll drift awake awhile after you've finished following my instructions.

Do let me know how silly, brainless, or dumb you felt...if you are comfortable expressing it, of course.

(Editors Note: I used to be @slowlymyavenue but tumblr shadow banned me so I have restarted - please follow and reblog here)

[thatfreshi]

Hi! Can I request a story about Tav having trouble fighting cause Astarion just fed on her and so he gets worried and protective ofc. Maybe they were ambushed at camp or something? Thank you so much for your work! I really like how you write Astarion

Tw - animal attack, lots of gore, themes of death

Recommended Song: Seek and Destroy - SZA

Against better judgment, you let Astarion feed on you almost every night. It's just one of those things, a sacrifice you make, an act of love. After decades of disrespect, scavenging for next to nothing, you thought it'd be nice for him to have something better than animals. While he always insists it isn't necessary, he never passes you up on the offer. A ritual before bed every night, like a lover's embrace, you've come to adore the feeling of his teeth.

This evening in particular, he took quite a bit. You don't mind, considering you go to bed almost right after. Light-headed, woozy, you're wrapped up in his arms.

"Thank you darling."

His embrace almost feels warm when you're this drained. You almost drift off, but he keeps you awake.

"Tav, you need to eat something first."

You groan, absolutely exhausted, trying to keep him in the bedroll.

"Nooo, I'll just do it tomorrow."

He smiles, moving your hair out of your eyes.

"That's not how it works my sweet. Now, let me get up so I can-"

Goblin war drums. The sound of the percussive rhythms bouncing off all the trees, they're not far off, and Astarion knows they're on the way. Karlach starts making her way to every tent, telling your companions to get their asses in gear.

"Tav, Astarion, let's go!"

"Shit."

Astarion whispers to himself. You're still not fully there, in and out of sleep.

"What's going on?"

Double vision, you see two of your vampire lover get up and start rummaging around for his daggers.

"Just- just stay here Tav. It's alright."

You try to rub at your eyes, desperately wanting to figure out what's going on. Before you can ask again, he's gone, and you hear more war drums outside. You quickly realize it's goblins. They must've found where you've been hiding, but your head is still spinning. Trying to get up and grab your blade, you almost fall back to the ground. Steadying yourself for a moment, you try your best to listen to what's going on outside. It sounds deadly, metal, screams. You hear Shadowheart casting left and right.

When you manage to stumble out of the tent, you're tackled by one of their dogs, or whatever wretched things they are. A scream rips out of your throat, trying to hold the thing off. It bites rabidly at your arm, leaving numerous gashes, until it's thrown off of you and stabbed to death, relentlessly.

"Gods damnit, I told you to stay in the tent Tav!"

You're too worried about your arm throbbing in pain to care about the validity of his argument. He's angry, and perhaps both of you aren't entirely certain why. It's your dominant arm, you can barely move it. Astarion goes to wrap your arm, but is quickly overpowered by the numbers again. They must've sent a large party after the lot of you. Halsin and Shadowheart are running out of magic, already drained. It's bad, but it'll end soon. With a couple more fights and a thunderwave from Gale, the rest of the goblins scurry off, knowing they're fighting a losing battle. Astarion doesn't even stop to loot their corpses, running to your side.

"You're a fucking idiot Tav, you know that?"

Gods, he could sound so mean when he wanted to. You know he says those things out of fear, but they still hurt. Despite how angry he is, he starts ripping pieces of cloth from his shirt, wrapping your arm, which is bleeding far too fast. Shadowheart and Halsin come over to supervise, both out of arcana until they get some rest.

"Yes, the two of you standing over my shoulder is quite helpful. Might as well cheer me on while you're at it!"

His movements are ragged, furious, only making your arm hurt more than it does. He's lost though, somewhere in his head, unable to hear the cries of pain as he's wrapping your arm. You're even more lost than before, your blood leaving rapidly.

"Aster, I-"

"Hush."

He then realizes you were going to tell him you were about to pass out, because you almost immediately fall over.

"Damnit!"

He holds you in his arms, your limb still not fully wrapped.

"If the two of you want to be helpful, get me some actual bandages instead of gawking at me!"

Sure, Astarion hates doing things that require hard work, but he knows how. How many times did he have to do something like this to himself, when no one was there to help wrap his wounds? Shadowheart quickly returns with all of the bandage wraps she has.

"We have to clean it or it'll get infected."

"Well, Shadowheart, I don't know how you think you're going to clean it if Tav bleeds to death."

The two healers decide it's best if he handles this himself. While he obsessively wraps your arm, the rest of the camp watches on, knowing he's too possessive to let them help. He doesn't trust them like he trusts you.

And I trusted you to stay put.

There's no way to give you more blood, not in a way that would work for you. For a moment, he simply thinks that he'll feed you some of his blood, and then he remembers. All he can do is hope you retained enough, that he didn't preemptively kill you by feeding on you tonight. Your pulse is still going, but it's slow, and you're paler than usual.

Astarion begins to think to himself, asking why he ever fell in love, why he ever let himself think twice about you. It's easy to play the game when you have nothing to lose. Second thoughts, always, he's always thinking for two people now. It's been his survival, for as long as he can remember, and now you're lodged in his brain.

"Damn you Tav, I can't do this. I can't lose you like this."

He begins to sob as he holds you, still unconscious. This beckons Gale to come over, often a voice of reason for the vampire.

"You've done all you can. Perhaps we should get Tav back inside? Away from the elements?"

Astarion is too distraught to argue, helping Gale carry you back into the tent.

"The second Shadowheart is awake, she'll be back to check on Tav."

"Yeah, if they don't die from blood loss in the middle of the night."

Gale simply sighs, knowing there's no point in fighting with him. He leaves your pale lover to wallow in his misery. Hours pass, you're still clinging on, and Astarion watches over you, panicking every time he can't see your chest rise and fall, constantly checking your pulse. You're cold, your heartbeat dangerously slow, and he keeps wracking his brain about what else he could possibly do. But there's nothing, only fate, only the gods. He sadly chuckles to himself at the thought of even trying to pray, knowing there's no higher power out there, at least one that cares about him.

"W... what are you... laughing at?"

You ask weakly, oblivious to the horrific stress he's been through. Astarion whips around quickly, wondering if perhaps he's imagining your voice. When he sees your eyes fluttering, lost somewhere between dreams and reality, he rushes to your side.

"Oh gods Tav... you- you really scared me there."

He tries to hold back tears, failing miserably. You try to speak again, but groan in pain as the feeling in your arm starts to come back.

"I know, I know it hurts. It's okay my darling, you'll be alright."

He begins fully sobbing, and you have no idea why, without being awake enough to comprehend the situation. Astarion always tries to be strong when you're weak, but watching you teeter on the line between life and death, it was simply too much to bear.

"You can't pull that shit, ever again my love, I'm so serious. I know I'm normally quite serious, but ever more so right now."

Then, a joyful, tiny laugh. Happiness. Happy that you're alive. The memories of the fight slowly start coming back, the beast that ripped up your arm, Astarion yelling.

"Aster...?"

"Yes my dear?"

You start to tear up a little, still a tad delirious.

"I'm sorry."

And then remembers as well, the things he said, the tone he spoke to you in.

"No, no my love I'm sorry. You weren't yourself, I was being entirely unreasonable. I just..."

He almost can't finish his sentence.

"I'm just happy you're okay. That's enough for me."

Your lover slowly and carefully lays down beside you, pulling you into him, being sure not to let your wounded arm drag on the ground. He holds you for a long time, until Shadowheart wakes at dawn, fully rested and ready to fix your wounds. Astarion vows silently that he'll never let it come that close, ever again.

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The Ren Faire Situation 

A birth story written in conjunction with @allkindsofpreg

---

“Are you 100% sure?” I asked, not hiding the concern in my voice.

You just smiled “I’ve made up my mind, I’m going.”

We had planned for the last few weeks to go to the local ren faire, where you were looking to get dressed up and enjoy the event, whilst taking what was likely to be the last chance to show off your pregnancy enhanced curves in public before the baby comes.

The problem was, the baby was coming… contractions had started this morning, and 3 hours on, they didn’t seem to want to stop.

So here you were, dressed up in your best pirate/wench outfit, pregnancy fuelled bosom looking magnificent, enhanced by the dress, cleavage spilling out of the top and leaving very little to the imagination, your bump – oddly smaller since your belly dropped a few days ago – still prominent behind the flowy fabric. A tie caught between the two, bright and causing the eye to immediately look at the area it highlights.

I’d always known you were a bit of an exhibitionist… hell, our baby was likely conceived when I was railing you on the balcony of a hotel with a crowd cheering you on from below – but I will admit, I kind of wanted you to myself when you gave birth.

But you wanted to make a spectacle of it. Have all those eyes looking at you. You know you could make it look like it was an accident – you could even make the news - “lady gives birth in public” has always been something that got your juices flowing. And here we are – contractions noticeable but not debilitating, and we’re about to walk out the house to walk half a mile down the road to the fair – and who knows what will happen from there.

“Are you ready, my lord?” you ask in a fake old world accent, pulling the skirt of your dress to the side with one hand and holding your stomach with the other, lowering into a polite curtsy. I take a moment to enjoy the birds eye view down your low lacy neckline before offering my arm and helping you to a standing position. In one fluid motion You’re upright and pressed against me, leaning down for a quick kiss.

“My god, you’re sexy,” I murmur against my lips, hands exploring your body beneath the elaborate folds of your gown.

“Mm, just wait ‘til you see me with a head crowning between my legs.” Even the thought makes you shudder with desire as you hike up the fabric to give me better access there.

I chuckle and slide my hand up your thigh, brushing over the fabric of your panties. “We may not make it to the fair if you keep this up,” I say, applying a bit more stimulation and causing you to gasp. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay.”

You know I’m wary about your intentions—and honestly, I make a compelling case—but you’re only going to have one first birthing experience and this is how you want to do it. “Don’t worry, baby, it’ll be fun.” I look doubtful as you display your best pout. “It’ll at least keep me distracted.” As if on cue, your stomach tightens, and in turn you make a point of keeping your stance and expression neutral, the only indication that anything’s happening a slight change in your breathing. “See? I can do this.”

“You can do anything,” I agree, removing my hand so that the hem of your dress falls back to the floor. “Guess we should get going then.”

You hook your arm around mine and, perhaps a bit too eagerly, glide out the door.

The walk to the event was a bit slow going, considering your size, but you make the most of it with seeing various turned heads, and the occasional honk and cheer from passing cars as they see your gravid form walking down the street. You had been doing curb walking for the last few weeks to try and get things moving, and automatically fell into that rhythm, up and down, up and down as one foot landed on the curb and another on the road next to it. The added jiggle factor of your breasts bouncing up and down helped with getting you noticed of course. Let’s just say that as we turned the corner into the site of the faire, you were very flustered – and it wasn’t just due to the exercise. We stopped twice on the way for a breather and to let a contraction build and pass, but thankfully we arrived without incident.

You feel another contraction build up while we’re waiting in line for tickets, but it’s easy to ignore amidst the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Everyone is in costume, many with even more on display than you, and, not to be outdone, You loosen your own tie a bit. I notice and cock an eyebrow at you as you give me a wink—perhaps later I’ll tie you up tighter or perhaps take it off altogether; the possibilities are endless and equally thrilling. We can’t keep our hands off each other and the booth attendant has to toss a piece of popcorn at us after a few gruff coughs to get our attention. She seems equal parts amused and irritated when you request two and a half tickets as you press your hands into the curves of your belly, showing it off.

Once inside, you make a beeline straight for the giant turkey legs, dashing off before I realise, surprisingly spritely for someone in your advanced state of pregnancy considering how much walking you had done already. I soon catch up to you as you join the back of the queue - the turkey legs being one of the most popular things in the area meaning the line was always big.

You were panting a little out of breath, but smiled back at me "You're too slow."

I circle my arms around you and pull you back into an embrace, kissing the top of your head as I feel your chest raising and falling in line with your heavy breathing. We both burst into a giggle as the line slowly starts to work its way down.

As we get to the front, the lady serving the food has a wide grin on her face as you approach.

"Hey there, what can I get you and the bump?"

Entirely straight faced, you respond "Bump? Oh this? I just REALLY like the turkey legs." You emphasised the size of your belly by rubbing your hands up and down it tracing the shape under your dress.

Her face was a picture, completely unsure what to do with herself. She was stammering and clueless what to do next, in worry that she was going to offend you, but the onset of another contraction soon put paid to your charade.

You couldn't do much else than wince and rub your belly, but used it as a convenient excuse to apologise to the lady behind the counter and explain that yes, you were indeed pregnant, and you would really like 2 turkey legs. And no… one was for me - you weren’t going to just pig out on them. The baby obviously didn't like you making fun of the poor lady and gave you a kick in punishment.

I was smirking through this entire exchange but we soon got our food serving, a couple of drinks and headed off to watch a band play. As we got to the showground area, one of the local attendants brought over a chair for you to sit down on, whilst I climbed onto the ground between your legs. We sat down and had a few minutes of relaxation until you started to huff and puff a little, hand rubbing your belly.

"Starting to get noticeable I presume?" I asked. You nodded, leaned forward as much as your belly would let you so you could speak in a whisper close to me and said that when we were in the queue for food it was the first contraction which had taken your breath away. You thought it was because you had just rushed to the queue, and the strenuous activity had been an influence… but right now you're sitting down, doing nothing… and yeah, it’s now very noticeable.

"We can always back out?" I asked… already knowing your answer.

"Not a chance. Did you see how much people are looking at me, looking at the bump? This is going to be EPIC!"

We stay listening to the band longer than expected—they’re quite good, and the baby seems to like it. There are little kicks and twists that seem to coincide with the beat and our amusement begins to attract attention. You’re more than happy to let the other people in the audience touch your belly to feel it too, and pretty soon we’ve got the whole crowd dancing along. With a firm grasp of your hand and waist, I twirl and dip you through several more contractions. Another one starts up just as a song ends and I pull you into me, managing to hide the grimace on your face.

Someone comes up when the upbeat tempo begins again and asks if the little one is still boogieing in there, and you turn to her with what you hope is a smile. Clearly something about your face is off, or maybe it’s my laboured breathing or the way you’re holding your stomach, but she asks if you’re okay as you wave her off.

“Just overdid it, I think. My back and feet are killing me!”

She hums in sympathy and recalls how difficult those last few weeks always are, how you just wish the baby would get here already.

You’re smiling in earnest as you say to her, “It definitely won’t be long now.”

We go to the sword fighting demonstration next, and the people in the front graciously offer us their seats when they see your bump hovering beside them at eye level. You give them a small curtsy that turns into a very ungraceful plop down onto the beach seat. “I’m just never going to get used to balancing with this thing,” you say by way of apology to the people on either side of you, pressing in the fabric of your dress around your stomach to emphasize its impressive size. “Won’t be a problem much longer, though,” you say, giving it an affectionate pat.

I’m chosen from the audience to participate—our entrance made a bit of a scene and did not go unnoticed by the actors—you whoop and holler as they pull me on the stage. They teach me a few moves and then “challenge” me for my affections, seeming to imply that the baby you’re carrying may or may not be mine, as you somehow wind up on the small platform right along with me. I do surprisingly well mimicking the moves showed to me earlier until finally I’m at a standoff. A contraction hits hard and fast and you double over with a surprised yelp and both of us on the stage turn to look at you—to cover up the slip, you make it part of the performance, like you had feigned a labour pain to fluster him, and shout, “Quick, my love, strike while he is distracted!” The actor takes the cue and allows me to land the final blow while the two of us share a passionate kiss (which earns us a fair few whistles and applause from the crowd) before taking a bow (admittedly, you didn’t bend too low) and running off before anyone can question whether you’re really that good of an actor.

The public escapades up until this point and - after that last contraction - knowing it won’t be long until the big finale has you all hot and bothered as you pull me into what you hope is a vacant tent. You wrap a leg around me waist, your hands toying with the ties of my costume. “Got time for a little more swordplay?”

As we slip into the tent we’re giddy, giggling happily, but after a few furtive glances around to make sure we’re alone, we’re quickly getting serious and down to business. Kissing across your cleavage and up your neck has you shuddering in delight as I take a moment to lift your top over your head and expose your underwear clad body to the world. My hands explore your body as I strip you of the bra you were wearing along with tugging down your panties and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. You’re standing there naked in front of me, glorious in your bountiful pregnant form, as you pull me close and tug down my trousers, bunching them at my feet.

My “sword” is well and truly on display as you’re licking your lips in delight as you manage to find a position you can support your body whilst leaning back against a table, opening your legs in accommodation.

My first thrust was strong, and made you yelp with the unexpected force. One of my hands grasped your hair and pulled your head back exposing your neck further to my kisses as you moaned in delight with my thrusts now slowing to a much more relaxed tempo.

You couldn’t hold that position long with the weight of the baby positioned as it was so you eventually turned and braced yourself against the table with your hands, presenting your ass to me. My knees slid between your legs and pressed lightly to the side, parting your own legs, you bobbed down into a bit of a squat to give even more access.

We scrabbled around in this position for a few thrusts into your waiting pussy but because you were quite low down it was a strain for me to keep thrusting up whilst getting the angle I needed to.

With a quick slap on your behind - resulting in the most magical squeal I’d ever heard - I pulled up a chair and sat on it as you finally lowered yourself on me - giving me free reign to enjoy your breasts and belly as you bounced.

Our groans joined each other as your approaching climax caused you to speed up your actions, my own cum releasing deep into you in a flood as I couldn’t hold back any longer. The resulting sensations tipped you over the edge as your orgasm caused you to yell out with pleasure, lost in the moment of bliss.

The sound you made must have alerted someone passing by as we heard footsteps approaching rapidly. Jumping we both looked at each other as you scampered off with an amazing high speed waddle out of the back door of the tent, as naked as the day you were born - completely oblivious to if there was anyone waiting on the other side.

I grabbed your dress and bra, pulling up my trousers but not fastening them to at least allow me to walk without tripping up. I join you outside to see that thankfully there’s no one there so I hand you over your dress and bra whilst fastening my trousers.

“I’ll need my panties too” you say “you’re dripping out of me down my leg” and that’s when we both realised that in the rush to leave I’d left them in a crumpled heap on the floor.

You shrugged “oh well guess someone will have a nice surprise… and I’ve got to deal with the leak” as you pull the top over your head - not bothering with the bra either, stuffing it tight down and pushing it into my pocket - and glance around the side of the tent in order to get back to the main show area.

We walked around and found somewhere opposite the tent we were at to check on what was happening but no one came out. They’d either dashed out before we got dressed and we missed them, they hadn’t spotted the thing we had left, or were left enjoying them - either way you seemed to be getting a thrill out of what had happened.

The next contraction took you by surprise through as you grasped onto me. I turned my head to see you visibly biting your lip to avoid letting out a scream. Suddenly there was a splash and a puddle formed between your legs. We both knew what that puddle was.

Without the cushion of an amniotic sac, the baby suddenly felt much lower, the contractions much more insistent, and the need to push much more urgent. The groan that emerged from your throat was guttural, instinctual, and you crouched down where you stood, clutching onto my forearms for support.

“Are you pushing?” I asked, slightly whiplashed between the thrills of having sex, nearly getting caught, and now this. “Already?”

You just gave me a squeeze in response, putting all your focus into breathing and controlling you volume until the contraction was over. With my help you stood back up and wrapped your arms around me, both of us still a little shaken.

Even though it came rapidly you were a little more prepared for the next one, able to maintain your standing position while your body worked to bring the baby down. You buried your head into my chest as we swayed together through the worst of it. We were hidden away, tucked in the narrow alley between tents, and any passersby would mistake it for a tender embrace. But we’d have to come out of here eventually if we wanted an audience.

There was a major show going on at the moment—something with jousting and fire and circus performers—and we made our way toward the back of the crowd. The skirt of your dress was large enough that it obscured the worst of your awkward, bow-legged waddle, but it was still a slow process. Your hand never left your belly, as if supporting it from the base would somehow relieve some of the force of the pressure bearing down within it.

Most people’s attention was on the performers, but we did garner a few nervous glances as those closest to us saw your restless shifting form and heard your grunts.

“Are you alright?” asked one of them, who was wearing a ridiculous feathered cap and carrying some sort of wooden instrument, eventually whispered when you were bent over and gasping after a particularly brutal contraction.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a strained, “Fine.” They glanced to me for confirmation; I shrugged, but couldn’t quite hide my growing anxiety.

The concerned bard remained undecided, but kept an eye on you, and when you dropped to your knees a few contractions later, determined that it warranted a trip to the medical tent. The bard tried to help you back to your feet, but you had decided that you weren’t going anywhere. You screamed when they tried to lift you, loud enough to stop the production mid-charge, and all eyes in the large stadium turned to gape at you. “I’m- I’m having a baby!” you yell, for the sake of anyone not close enough to see what was happening.

The elaborate ties of your dress were already loosened and askew from our previous activities, so it was easy enough to subtly work the laces and slide the fabric from your upper body. It looked like an accident when the heavy textiles fell dramatically around your kneeling form, exposing your full, heavy breasts and huge belly. I knelt beside you, as if making moves to preserve your modesty, but you lurched forward suddenly onto your hands, the dress falling down your thighs and exposing the rest of you.

The restricting fabric prevented your knees from widening as they needed to, and you begged me to get it the rest of the way off you. I helped you crawl forward a step and as a result your legs were blissfully free, but this position hid the spectacle from your audience.

You grabbed for me and held as you got your feet under you, lowering into a deep squat with your breasts, belly, and pussy facing out toward the crowd. You moved my hands to your inner thighs, forcing them open wider and pulling open your dilated folds, and pushed.

The realisation of what just happened seemed to ripple through the crowd - the immediate people around us either recoiling in shock, or many grabbing their phones and hitting record.

As much as you were incredibly turned on by the attention you were getting, the force of the contraction making you to push out our baby was a significantly more pressing concern. You bellow out, completely uncaring who hears it “this hurts more than anything I’ve ever done… labouring all day… it’s just…” your voice was cut short as you simply howled in pain as your eyes closed and you bore down, desperate to move the blockage between your legs.

As the contraction began to fade and you started to regain your senses your head turned towards me, you had tears in your eyes. “Help me” you managed pitifully.

I managed to lean in close to you so my whispering voice could only be heard by you “how are you feeling? Is this just an act or does it hurt?”

“It fucking hurts…” your reply had tones of desperation in it. The next contraction was quick to pick up and you were soon pushing again, a bulge visible between your wide splayed legs suggesting the head was going to be very big.

“Here here now you poor baby, let’s see if we can help you” came a voice. I looked up, and you managed the same to see an older woman - 60s or older - pushing her way through the crowds and trying to force - unsuccessfully - to make those recording the spectacle on their phones stop and give you a little dignity.

She grunted with exertion as she kneeled down between your legs, her hands reaching down to the bulge, surprisingly chilly against your hot, distended skin. You shivered - I was trying to work out if it was through the ministrations of the lady who walked up touching your sensitive areas, or you had just orgasmed from the attention you were getting.

“I’ve pushed out 8 babies myself and caught 5 grand babies from my daughters” she offered “so these hands are good hands and know what to do.”

“What do I do?” you asked, echoing her words back to her.

She chuckled and gave me a wry smile. “In my experience—and from the looks of it, yours too—whatever your body tells you.”

“Oh god,” you groaned, the pressure bearing down between your hips insisting that you bear down with it. “I need to- I need—“

“Baby’s head’s right there, I think you’re safe to push whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m not ready! It wasn’t supposed to be like this; there’s so many—hnghhh, fuck—people!” Your words dissolved into moans as you yanked desperately against my flared knees, but all that did was pull taut your skin and emphasize just how small your opening was in comparison to the large head bulging behind it.

“That’s it, let it stretch,” the woman soothed, running her fingers along the edges of the modest crown. You pressed yourself into her touch and she hummed in recognition. “Nothing to be self-conscious of here, dear. Do whatever feels good for you; it’s all natural.”

You brought your fingers to your clit and rubbed a few quick circles before the stimulation became too much. You cradled your belly as you pushed, but your hands soon wandered to your breasts, your nipples, and the resulting whines were a mix of pleasure and pain.

“It’s too big!” You wailed between pushes, looking to me in desperation. “It hurts. It’s burning, please, do something.”

I looked to the woman and she shrugged. “She’s the boss.”

I looked warily around at the many pairs of eyes fixed on us, but they faded into the background as soon as I wrapped my body around yours. You took one of my hands in yours and guided the other one between your legs as another shot of pain jolted out from your stomach, up your spine and through your hips. I thumbed gently at your sensitive nub and explored the changes in the folds that I knew so well.

“Help me stretch.” came your plea.

I dipped a finger under your stretched skin, gently tracing the cap of our baby’s head. Another contraction started and you pushed, my fingertips spreading you open even wider than the head. I pulled away quickly at your pained yelp, but it had helped—the head was staying put now, even between pushes.

“It’s stuck, it’s- I’m going to tear!”

“Oh no you don’t,” the woman said, getting her hands in the way between us, taking back up their work with the emerging head. She placed her palm flat against the exposed crown, applying a fairly firm pressure to keep it from coming out even as I continued to stretch painfully around it—prolonging the torture. “Pant. Pant, now,” she instructed.

“Please, I need to push, let me push!” you whined, unable to resist your body’s urges. You bore down again, but she just pressed in harder as you cried out as the two impossible pressures clashed right at the peak of your pain.

I had managed to get myself out of her way and resulted in getting directly behind you. You shoved your hips back, desperate to retreat from her iron grip, and your ass rubbed against my hard cock. You hear me whisper a string of curses and ground harder against my hips—if you had to suffer on the precipice of release, so would I.

You shuddered and relaxed a bit as the contraction waned, and the woman likewise relaxed her grip against you. There were a few gasps as she pulled her hand away and the crowd got an unobstructed view of the massive crowning head.

The view of a couple of flashes from people’s cameras were ingrained in your mind as you sit there, panting, the few moments of respite between contractions giving you little time to pant through and get some energy back before you needed to push again.

You leaned back against me, rubbing my engorged cock between your body and the fabric of my jeans. I let out a little groan as I felt myself approach my own little precipice.

The next contraction ramped up though and more of the same happened again - the desperate need to do nothing else but push, and this random stranger lady pressing back against all your effort.

You lost it as the frustration toppled you, all focus on the pain radiating between your belly and your legs, and this woman who was actively trying to make it harder for you.

“Let me push!” You screamed between gasps of the contraction as she just tutted at you.

“Don’t be a baby dearie” she took it in her stride. “I’ll let you stretch nice and slow so you don’t tear. You have a big one here.”

“Please!” You gasped, “Please… I’ll tear, I just need it out and you’re stopping me.” The last word was a chilling wail.

Despite your obvious discomfort my own sordid desires were being tweaked simply by the amount of effort you were putting in. Your body pressed back into me as you undertook push after push, my cock getting rubbed more and more.

I felt myself release as you wailed out. My cock pulsing and throbbing as each squirt filled my underwear. I felt it run down my leg. I pulled you in close grabbing your hands and crossing them over your chest pulling you tight against me as I hoped that there was no evidence of the leak on my trousers with all the cameras trained on us right now.

My shiver wasn’t missed by you as you look up in my eyes, meeting me with a weary but loving grin, for a few moments you smiled until the smile was replaced by a scowl as once more it was time to push.

Your body twisted and trembled as the war against instinct continued. Your hands grasped at nothing as you sought an outlet for the pent up energy you couldn’t focus into your core—your fingers clawed at my hair, the grass, the fabric of your discarded dress, the tight skin of your stomach.

“Fuck this hurts,” you huffed, more for me than for the onlookers. Then, louder, “Another contraction, already?”

You reached a shaking, tentative hand between your legs, brushing the woman’s aside and winced as your fingers grazed the tender flesh. It bowed and flexed with the force of the contraction alone and you whimpered as your lips peeled slowly back around the widest part of the head.

“Alright, now we’ve got ‘em right where we want ‘em. Give it all you’ve got, honey!” I almost hissed the words trying to keep it quiet enough that only you could hear.

In your opinion, sweeter words had never been spoken and wasted no time putting your chin to your chest and giving a hard shove. In a cruel twist of fate, the baby now seemed content to stay right where it was. You tried again, pushing harder this time, and howled in frustration when it didn’t budge.

“Come on now, girl, push!” came the woman, I had echoed something similar.

“I’m trying, it’s- fuck, it’s really stuck!”

After another two contractions of stalled progress, she finally believed me. “How about we get you on your feet,” she suggested. “Come on now, help her up,” she prompted, but I froze, keeping you tight against me.

“My- I can’t,” I whispered frantically in your ear, and you nodded— you understood.

You waited for the next contraction, took a deep breath, and leaned forward putting everything into the push, making an effort to make sure that the lady’s hands wouldn’t get in the way of this push. Your hips lifted just enough so they were hovering on top of my crotch and you screamed, all the anxious and excited attention fuelling another mighty push as the head shot out the rest of the way with an impressive gush of fluids… which sprayed across the entire front of my trousers, concealing and blending with any other stains that might have been present.

“Fuck,” you gasped, both in surprise and relief, as you got the rest of the way to your feet. Then an agonized, “Fuck!” as the baby spun and the shoulders settled quickly and violently into place against your tortured hole. You bent my knees and braced your palms against your thighs as you started to push again.

The lady beckoned me forward and I dashed around from behind you to kneel in front, hands poised in place just under the dangling head of our baby.

Now at eye level with your pussy, I watched as the shoulders bulged and gravity threatened to pull the heavy child the rest of the way out. “What should I do?” I asked the old woman, though my eyes never left you.

“Catch!” she said with a laugh, and I raised your hands just in time for the baby to slide into my grasp.

Your yell of triumph was magical as the vernix-covered baby slid into my hands, the lady, unexpectedly diving forward to catch you under the arms as you sagged, threatening to collapse with the effort. You were gasping, panting for air, you were shell shocked, but one thing was clear – you had realised you had done it. My god you were grinning.

The lady helped lower you to the ground as I held on for dear life to our baby – a daughter – my eyes weirdly focused on the umbilical cord connecting the small bundle in my hands to your gaped opening.

“Shit” was all I could mutter.

“Shit, indeed” you echoed.

You realised a blanket was suddenly placed over your shoulders as paramedics arrived, covering you up from the gawping onlookers. You’d done it. You had your dream. You’d given birth in front of a crowd. No doubt Youtube and who knows what other sites will be flooded with footage of this tomorrow. At least we know we will have a record of our birth.

The baby was taken from me as her umbilical cord was cut, and she was checked over. I sat next to you in a daze as paramedics helped check you over.

You leaned in close to me as you kissed me and then got very close to my ear, whispering so no one else could hear. “We need to go one better next time. We live stream to the entire internet !”

[yanderestarangel]

★ STARBOY | JOHNNY CAGE X FTM READER ★

TW: afab anatomy, ftm reader, vaginal sex, sex without a condom, creampie, praise kink, slight degradation.

Sounds of low, hoarse moans, the light from buildings along the length of Hollywood's stone jungle entered the luxurious room of Cage's mansion.

You saw yourself riding his cock, your cunt gripping his thick, naked length, bodies working in a slow and passionate rhythm, constant and mutual, he moved his hips lightly with each movement of yours, Johnny grabbed your soft flesh, leaving light marks.

The smell of expensive wine and designer perfume that came from him entered your nose, making you more intoxicated at the moment, taking your hands to the muscles of his shoulder, slowly passing to the sides of his neck, damp and hot with sweat, reaching the back of his skin, running his fingers through the soft strands like a calm and sensual massage, his brown eyes penetrated yours, watching you with a face of satisfaction and lustful destruction, that gave you the gas to continue, he knew that, he did that on purpose, Johnny knew that you loved seeing his face contort with pleasure because of you, and he made sure to show you every reaction, every pure reaction of ecstasy that you gave him.

His moans were getting louder by the minute, you could feel your inner walls squeeze his fat cock tightly, but you didn't want to cum, not now.

Johnny knew you were close to cumming, he knew the tightness of your pussy for months, years, time was relative at that moment, drunk on you and for you, only your body did that to him

"-Continue... You're doing so well... Please baby." -Johnny spoke hoarsely and needily, needy for you, he needed you, he wanted to cum, he needed to show you that you were his star. No one shone brighter in the starry sky of Johnny Cage's life and heart than you, in fact, at that moment, who was there was not Johnny Cage the movie star, but John Calton, the man in love with you, the man who would kiss the ground you walk on.

Your hips moved faster, the sound of skin against skin as Johnny thrust into you, helping you enter the sweet spot inside your pussy was so damn good.

Johnny saw a single tear fall from your beautiful face, you were so overstimulated, it was beautiful to see, you were beautiful, you were the most beautiful thing in his life, the luxury around his mansion was insignificant compared to you.

He wiped away your tears, and then kissed you, tongues fighting for control even though they didn't even have control of themselves, as he pushed deeper grabbing the sides of your ass, his head spun with the pleasure of your wet pussy wrapped around his cock him as well as if you were tailor-made for him, perhaps, you were.

"-I just want to see you shine because I know you are a star, baby..." -Johnny also said, shedding some tears, pushing deeper into your pussy, connected by flesh but also by the dance of your hearts.

"-Oh, you've been such a good boy for me, taking my cock like a champ. Look at you, so beautifully submissive, so eager to please. Your pussy feels so tight around me, so wet and welcoming. Don't you You can imagine how much it turns me on to see you spread out before me, submitting to my every desire." -Johnny's voice oozes with lust and dominance as he continues to ravage your trembling body, his grip on your neck adding a thrilling touch to the pleasure.

"-That's it, my little slut. Take every inch of me. I want to feel you milking me, your pussy clenching around me, desperate for more. You're so wet for me, aren't you? Admit it, tell me how much you You need my cock inside you." -He punctuates his words with powerful thrusts, his hips colliding with yours in a rhythm that brings you both closer to the edge.

"-Look at those tits bouncing, begging to be fucked. You're a naughty little slut, and I love it. You're mine to use, to fuck, to make scream. Your pleasure belongs to me, and I will win. Don't stop until I have claimed until the last moan of those beautiful lips of yours..." -Johnny's voice is hoarse with desire as he continues to move inside you, his eyes fixed on yours, filled with a mixture of adoration and lust.

"-Yes, darling, you are my star. You are the only one who lights up my world. Your beauty, your passion, everything surpasses anything else. You are enough, more than enough for me. I want you to feel that, believe it deep down in your core." -He continues to move inside you, each thrust into your pussy fueled by a desire to show how much you mean to him.

"-Yes, you're my dirty little star. So eager to please, so hungry for my cock. I can't get enough of you. Your pussy is so tight, so wet for me. You're making me lose control, boy. But don't worry, I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you shine brighter than any star in the sky." -He runs his fingers across your skin, leaving a trail of fire.

"-Fuck, you're doing so well, my star. I'm going to fuck you until you're a quivering mess, completely destroyed by pleasure. Your moans, your screams, are like a symphony to my ears. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I saw it and I'm not going to stop." -With one final thrust, Johnny pushes you to the limit, cumming inside your pussy, jets hitting your uterus, your body shaking with ecstasy as you succumb to the pleasure, to his touch, you were his and never and no one would change That, after all, he was your star boy and you were his star.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[robinsno1lesbian]

Ok ok last one for tonight I promise (maybe🤭) but I’m thinking about car sex with Robin

Driving the highway home and you’re getting all needy with Robins hand on your thigh so you pull it down further, under your skirt to your panties. She gives a lil groan at how wet you are and then decides to pull off on the next scenic outlook.

She parks away from any other cars and grabs your neck to kiss you, whispering “couldn’t wait till we got home? My needy girl”

Let’s go if you only to climb into the middle seat in the back and beckons you after her. You follow eagerly as she undoes her belt and zipper. Y’all makeout for a hot minute, you grinding on her strap before she finally pulls it out of her pants and pushes your panties to the side so you can ride her. And you do, bouncing up and down on her lap, Robin’s hands lazily holding onto your hips until she decides to take your top and bra off so she can watch your tits bounce with you, taking turns sucking on each pert nipple as you work her strap to find your release🥵

OK IM DONE NOW I SWEAR (this one got long oops)

𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

-r.b. x reader

summary: the car ride back home with your girlfriend turns into something more…(lesbian sex in the back of her car) (1.7k)

warnings: SMUT!! (mdni), semi-public sex/car sex, strap-ons (reader receiving), nipple play, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), praise kink, for the sake of this fic robin does have a license!

a/n: @maladaptive-day-dreams i finally wrote this! this has been in my inbox for a hot minute (6 months?) so it was about time! as always i couldn’t be arsed to beta read lmao

perhaps you should’ve seen it coming from the moment her hand first landed on your thigh. robin’s eyes had been on the road ahead, one hand holding the wheel, delicate fingers drumming to the rhythm of whatever tape she’d put on whilst the other found its way onto your skin.

or maybe long before, when you’d been by the lake where you’d spent the day, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off of you the entire time, tracing the shape of your outline with her hungry gaze.

she probably would’ve gone down on you right then and there if she had the chance.

now, with the sun setting outside and the two of you being the only people in the car, she’s making good use of it. you feel the cold metal of her rings against the warm flesh of your inner thigh, where she’s tracing circles upon it.

“you’re so pretty, you know?” she rasps, eyes still on the road. you let out a shuddered breath, your legs parting further on their own accord. robin’s gaze darts towards them momentarily and her tongue flicks out to wet her lips at the sight.

still, she seems to be keeping her teasing at a low for now. her fingers don’t reach any further up your leg, they just linger so close yet so far from where you want her.

instead of whining for her to touch you some more, you take matters into your own hands: reaching for her fingers, you pull them under your skirt so that she can feel the heat radiating from your center herself.

you catch her eyes widening when she sucks in a breath at the feeling of your wetness coating her fingertips, no panties or any other barrier in her way.

“fuck” robin mutters. you grind against her instinctively (and to tease her some more), hips rutting back and forth on her leather seat to rub yourself against her index- and middle finger.

“baby” she croaks. by now, her gaze is constantly darting from the road and back at you. it’s a sight robin wouldn’t want to miss out on: your head thrown back and your hand tightening around her wrist as you use her to get off like this.

“fuck it” she finally says, pulling off on the next scenic outlook you guys pass. by the time she parks the car the sun has pretty much set and even though there’s no one else around, you’re grateful for the extra coverage of the night.

the second the engine is off, she grabs you by the neck and kisses you hungrily.

“couldn’t even wait till we get home?” she murmurs as she removes the hand from underneath your skirt and pulls her fingers apart. your wetness is evident on each digit. “my needy girl”

you can’t help but whine, earning yourself a pleased grin from robin.

“backseat” she commands. “now”

immediately, you’re crawling into the backseat of her car. it’s awkward and you’re but stumbling over the other’s limbs but she makes up with kisses to your mouth and laughter you taste right from the source and muffle with your own lips.

once she’s sitting on the middle seat, legs spread slightly, and you’re lingering above her with one leg on either side of her thighs, you understand why she was so stubborn about not joining you in the lake earlier. why she insisted on keeping the denim shorts on, instead of undressing into beach wear like the rest of you: you can feel the bulge of her strap nudging your center.

“didn’t have time to pack this morning” she explains with a toothy grin. “didn’t know how else to get this to your house without anyone noticing”

you lean down to kiss her once more. “get it out” you murmur against her lips, your own hands already reaching for her belt. she helps you undo it, skilled fingers pulling it off before unzipping her pants. your mouth practically waters when she kicks them off, leaving her in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, the bulge even more evident now.

robin pulls your weight down so that you’re straddling it, the silicone cock pressing against you through the fabric of her underwear. she runs her hands up your back, pulls up your top and discards it quickly.

“smooth” you grin against her lips, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your skirt.

“no” robin shakes her head and removes your hands. “leave it on”

you raise a brow at her and tilt your head.

“it’s so hot” she admits under her breath.

she does have a point, you figure. riding her in the back of her car in your mini skirt without any panties on is hot. so instead of protesting, you go back to kissing her.

your hips start grinding against the toy without you even noticing. only when robin puts one hand to your hip and the other up your skirt once more, you become aware of your desperate rutting.

“robbie” you whine. she hushes you, running her index through your wetness before pushing two fingers into your heat. your eyes roll back immediately.

“robbie please” you find yourself babbling as she scissors and parts those two fingers inside you, making sure you’re nice and open for her. “i’m ready. i can take it. please”

“mhm i know” she hums against the crook of your neck, where she’s sucking marks you’ll probably have to cover up for the next couple of weeks. “that’s my girl”

the praise goes straight to your center and you feel the vibrations of her low chuckle when you flutter around her.

finally, she seems to have enough of the teasing too. she leans back against the seat enough for her to pull the strap free from her boxers, using what’s left of your wetness to coat it and lube it up.

you watch as she pumps her fist along its length for a moment before she finally lets go, leaving the toy glistening with your arousal.

“come on” robin says, guiding you to linger right above it. “sit”

and you do. your breath comes out ragged when you lower yourself down onto her cock, feeling it push into you inch by inch until she’s pushed it in as far as it’ll go and your bodies are nestled together.

“good?” she whispers, forehead pressed against yours while her eyes are watching where her cock as slid into your body.

“mhm” you tell her with a firm nod of your head.

“ready to move?” her hands hold onto your hips, rings digging into the skin as the toy presses against your walls just right. you can feel her everywhere and for a moment you wish she could feel you too; around her, sucking her into your wetness hungrily. the stretch of it is all consuming, it makes your lashes flutter and you feel embarrassingly close already.

you nod again.

“alright baby, come on” robin instructs. “ride me”

you do as you’re told, put your hands down on her shoulders as you lift your weight up before slamming it right back down. the feeling of her cock against your g spot has you seeing stars immediately and you find yourself moaning in relief.

robin meets your thrusts, lifts her hips a little reach time you drop back onto the strap so it hits all the right spots. you’re bouncing on it in no time, the sounds of it sliding into you echoing through the small space of her car.

“holy shit, baby” robin grunts from beneath you, watching you through heavy lidded eyes. your grip around her shoulders tightens as you try to move faster, chase that heavenly height of cumming around the toy.

she reaches out as you keep riding her, hungry to have just a little more of you. she fumbles with the clasps of your bra. it takes her a moment, especially with the constant movement, but eventually she manages to take it off.

your breasts are right in front of her face like this and her mouth is on them immediately, kissing and sucking on your pebbled nipples as they bounce for her.

your orgasm is building quickly now. you’d been close from rubbing yourself raw against her hand already, but with her strap buried inside you to the hilt and her lips sucking on your chest for dear life, pleasure takes over entirely.

“robin” you cry. “robin, baby- i’m so close”

“yeah?” she rasps teasingly, one hand reaching between your thighs to rub your clit in slow circles.

“yeah” you nod, both eyes closed as you lose yourself in the feeling.

her nose brushes over your chest as she breathlessly watches your thighs shaking for her.

“don’t stop” you beg, regardless of the fact that you know she won’t. “don’t fucking stop baby, fuck. feels so good”

a harsh press of robin’s fingers against your clit and her hushed words of “cum for me. be a good girl and cum for me” is what sends you over the edge.

“fuckfuckfuck” is all you manage, over and over again like your only prayer. it’s all you can say before your orgasm rips through you. the force of it would’ve pushed the strap right out of you it wasn’t for her hands holding you down against her to guide you through it. your hips are moving back and forth, whines and moans spilling from your throat.

“holy shit” robin mutters beneath you. “holy fucking shit, baby”

your body goes slack and you fall against her, whilst her cock is still inside you. she soothes you immediately, wrapping her arms around you as she whispers sweet praise against your temple.

“you did so good baby. fuck. so, so good”

the two of you stay like this for a while, enough for you to catch your breath and ground yourself. just enough for you to find your top and pull it on and for robin to zip her jeans up before the two of you spot headlights in the rear view mirror.

„shit!“ robin exclaims, immediately climbing back to the front, her belt dangling loosely from her jeans. „shit shit shit!“

you laugh as the engine howls to life and she drives off before anyone can catch the steamy windows of her car.

[kteezy997]

Chocolate Boss- Part Three//W.W.

Part one part two

Warnings: boss/employee dynamic, fluff, smut, cowgirl, cursing, doggy, oral sex female receiving, missionary cock warming

You were so horny and needy for Mr. Wonka. You’d been thinking about him all day as you worked at the factory. You knew it was morally and ethically wrong to lust after your boss, but it was so delicious being with him. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

You wanted your fantasies to come true tonight. You wanted to finally have sex with him; he had such a nice, big cock, you remembered how it felt slipping and sliding between your breasts. But now you wanted him inside you, pumping you with the thick, veiny shaft, and filling you with his warm cream. You wanted him to have his way with you.

You knocked lightly on the office door, “Mr. Wonka?”

“Come in.” came his voice on the other side.

You opened the door, seeing him at his desk, scowling at the papers scattered about the surface of the desk. “What is the matter, sir?”

He looked up at you, his expression softened up, “Oh, nothing. Just some numbers from the store aren’t adding up correctly. It’s frustrating.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Wonka, is there anything I can do?”

He sighed, taking a seat, “Just your presence is enough, my darling girl.” he said, holding his arms out to you, making ‘come to me’ motions with his fingers.

You went directly to him, hugging him.

Willy pulled you into his lap, slipping his arms around you.

“I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, Mr. Wonka.” you said, innocently.

He frowned, a little taken aback, “You could never bother me, and please, call me Willy.” he pinched your side playfully, “We are way beyond formalities.”

You giggled, shoving his tickling hand away, “I know. I just like to call you Mr. Wonka sometimes.” you let your fingers trail over his little scarf and shirt collar, “It’s kinda hot, like we’re doing something forbidden when we are in here together.”

Willy smirked, “Hmm, perhaps we could do something forbidden right now.” he suggested, “You’re wearing a skirt, it could be easy.”

“Oh, can we, Willy?” you asked, moving to straddle him, and grabbing his shoulders.

“Of course,” he kissed you, “we still haven’t gone all the way, ya know.” He put his arm around your waist.

“I know, and I’ve been wanting to so badly.” you put your forehead on his as you cupped his handsome face, “You turn me in so much, Willy Wonka. I can’t even focus on work because I catch a glimpse of you around the factory and then I can’t stop thinking about you.” you started to rock your hips, humping his lap like an animal in heat.

“The same thing happens to me.” his mesmerizing green eyes bore into yours, you could feel the mutual yearning from him. “I think about you every minute of the day. You never stray from my mind, even when you aren’t near.” he tucked his hand behind your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

You felt his hand slip between your legs, and he touched your pussy. You knew what was coming.

Willy pulled away from your lips and gasped, “You’re not wearing panties?” he whisper screamed in surprise.

“No sir. Do you like that?” you giggled, moving in his lap a little bit.

He leaned in exceptionally close to your face, “Yes, I like that.” he captured your lips once again.

As he kissed you, you reached down to undo his trousers and let his hard cock free.

Willy sat back in the office chair, and helped you settle down onto the length of his cock. You both let out soft moans as he was sheathed inside of you.

“Oh, Willy, oh it’s so big.” you trembled, shuddering against him as you tried to pick up a rhythm with your hips.

“You can take it, go on, my sweet.” he cooed, placing his hands on your lower back.

You held onto Willy’s shoulders as you moved and became more confident in your thrusts.

His eyes wandered down to your breasts as they bounced in your low cut blouse that you picked specifically for work today.

You smirked to yourself, quickening your pace, gripping his shoulders harder.

Somehow, Willy shifted his body, gave your butt a push and he was even deeper inside of you.

You gasped, looked down and he was eyeing you from below, his mouth agape. You felt his tip hit your cervix with each of your soft pumps onto his lap. “Willy..” you whimpered.

He put a hand on each of your ass cheeks, and rammed his hips up into you.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried, clasping your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his skin as his cock ruined your wet hole in the best way. You heard his thighs clapping against your cheeks, felt the friction inside your pussy that made you tremble. Actual sex with him was worth the wait.

Just as your pussy went numb from his cock, he pulled out and picked you up as he stood from the chair. He swiped his arm across his desk, sending all of the office supplies tumbling to the floor. Next, he spun you around, gave you a light shove and with a huff, you were chest first on the top of his desk.

You held yourself with your hands flat on the desk. Willy hands went to your ass, and soon you felt his tip on your clit, wiggling and sliding along the sensitive bundle there. “Mmm.” you moaned, your body shivering against your will.

With a sharp thrust of his hips, Willy’s cock was shoved inside of you again, and his hands claimed your waist. He pumped into you at a fast and steady pace, the head of his cock bumping your g-spot with each movement. You were reduced to a whimpering, moaning mad woman.

You raised up as best as you could and looked back at him: he was watching his cock as it entered and retracted from you over and over, all while removing his clothing, first the scarf that was snuggly wrapped around his neck, then his vest, then his shirt, all were tossed to the floor in order. Lastly, he kicked off his trousers. His beautifully trim body and porcelain skin was pure art in your eyes.

You found yourself pushing your own hips back at him, meeting his thrusts. You just wanted more, and you wanted it hard and fast. God, you just wanted him, nothing else but Willy Wonka.

He grinned and chuckled at you, “y/n, you’ll be the death of me. You feel so good. You’re my angel.” his hands slid upwards on your back, kneading his thumbs there as he fucked you.

It all felt so warm and sensual. But Willy was apparently full of surprises. Again, you were moved, this time onto your back, and he spread your legs open. You gasped as he dipped his face between them, he lapped on your clit, then nibbled lightly on it. You cried out his name softly, but on repeat like a broken record.

Willy had kneeled onto the ground to eat you out. He held your thighs tightly in his hands. You could hear him moan as he massaged his tongue on your clit.

Your legs started to shake as your entire lower body was filled with pleasure. You watched Willy work his pretty mouth on you and you put your hand in his curls, pushing them back away from his eyes. You felt like a lightning bolt struck your pussy as he made eye contact with you, while sucking on your clit.

“Ughhh!” you cried, your whole body trembling with your orgasm.

Willy had to keep his grip on your legs so you wouldn’t squish his head with them.

You relaxed onto the desk, trying to breathe and come down from your high. You saw Willy’s sly smile as he climbed onto the desk over you. You tucked your legs on either side of him, and your hands went to his torso area, feeling his flushed skin that was slightly damp with sweat.

He welcomed your embrace and relaxed against your body, leaning down to kiss you.

“Can you put it back in, Willy?” you asked him as you pulled away from his lips. You felt a sudden sense of emptiness after you had your orgasm.

Willy blushed and smiled, “Sure I can, sweet thing.” He shuffled his hips a bit, and reached down to place his tip at your entrance, then pushed his length inside again. He huffed, then exhaled sharply.

You moaned, feeling satisfied and full. You put your arms around his back, kissing his face.

“Y/n, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, I don’t know why it’s taken me so long, but, will you be my girlfriend?” his eyes widened as he awaited your answer, and he nibbled nervously on his bottom lip.

You were elated, as he had said it had felt like a long time coming. Your heart raced, and you said, “Oh, I would love to be your girlfriend, Mr. Wonka.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @tchalamss @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @sammy-halpert @mel-vaz @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69

[dripdowndrop]

The Bimbo Bounce

Alliteration is a useful hypnotic tool. It gives sentences a bit of extra potency, makes mantras easier to remember, and improves the lifespan of a suggestion pretty considerably. That's the operating theory, anyway. Shall we explore?

Bounce for me; that's simple enough to start things off.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

The phrase sticks, somehow, even though it sounds a little silly. Something seems to make it linger in your head. It has a unique feel to it, a quality you can't quite put your finger on. The syllables seem to echo: bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

But how does a bubbly brain behave? Like a bubble, as you'd expect, with something creating a volume of empty space inside while thoughts slide smoothly across the expanding surface, oily and slick. At first, it feels like your thoughts have more area across which to spread. Your thoughts shift slightly, glistening and growing ever more thin. At least, until the bubble pops.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

And burst it must. Bubbles are ephemeral entities, aren't they? It's alright; you'll scarcely notice. When the bubble pops, your thoughts that are currently floating on the surface will splash to the floor. The empty space inside will rush rapidly outward, turning you into a bit of an airhead. Seems fitting, doesn't it?

Bursting bubbly brains blow pink

Bounce, and pop.

You'll feel the splash like a sudden surge of lust and arousal coursing through your body. The rush of air inside your head might cause you to get light-headed, so you'll spread your legs to steady yourself. Of course that's what you're doing, isn't it? Steadying yourself, not putting yourself on display. Right.

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.

Bubbly brains are bound to burst.

Burst bubbly brains blow pink

Bimbos brainlessly bounce.

As you begin to bounce to a silent rhythm, it occurs to you that some bubbles have a kaleidoscopic sheen when you look at them, but others have a very solid color within. Your brain-bubble was bubblegum pink, now that you think about it.

Well, as much as you can presently think about anything. That pop did more than just fill your head with empty air. You can feel your intelligence leaking into the space around you, escaping...your absent brain can't contain it any longer.

Bimbos bounce their brains away.

If your brain was still intact, you might think to stop bouncing so you'd be better able to think. But your brain exploded in a flash of pink and wet, and now you're as blank as a bouncing bimbo should be. You're able to understand my words out of some remnant of intuition, but if you pause to try and think them through, everything just goes pink and pops again.

Blank bimbos bounce brainlessly

That seems sensible enough, especially since bouncing feels pretty good. The splash of wet pink thoughts from the pop made your body more sensitive, perhaps by providing you with better things on which to focus. You certainly feel blank, and you are bouncing. Are you a bimbo, though?

Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos

A side effect of the bubbly brain from before is that you're finding all of this pretty amusing. Certain bits of sentences make you want to giggle and smile, even when you can barely understand them. Might've let too much of your intelligence leak away, but it's all just so silly, isn't it?

Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce

If you were a bimbo, would you be able to tell? Would you find the situation you're in far more amusing than you should? Would your body be becoming progressively more sensitive as your empty head adjusts to having no thoughts to contain and feeds all that focus to your hungry nerves? Would the bouncing be this arousing all by itself?

That depends primarily on what sort of bimbo you've become, but the answer should be clear by now. Each bounce produces a wave of pleasure, each wave pushes more of the remnants of your brains into the air. The less brains left in your head, the more you smile and giggle. The giggles produce flashes of pink that remind you how very silly and simple this is. All you did was bounce.

Bouncing blank bubbly bimbos are brainwashed

Bounces can take all sorts of forms. You can bounce bits of your body with your hands, bounce up and down in a chair, bounce with the aid of the springs below the bed...all to the same end. Everything is turning pink and wet and silly for you.

This leaves you with only two options: You could let yourself settle, riding the high of the blank bubbly brainwashed bimbo until your brain somewhat reluctantly returns to your head. I won't stop you, you'd simply wake after a few minutes of coming back down.

Or the blank bouncing brainwashed bimbo could shift the energy from bouncing just a little and satisfy that lust your body is feeling. The only real hazard is that your head is already full of air, and cumming your brains out when they've already mostly evaporated could leave you pretty dumb before it's all said and done.

But you've already made a choice, or it's already been made for you. My words could be passing by almost invisibly as the bouncing subsides, or you may already be excitedly picking a toy to bounce on or a rhythm to use while you stroke yourself senseless.

Either way, everything will fade into a yummy pink haze before much longer. I wonder how much bimbo brain you'd need to bounce away before the condition became a bit stuck...

Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly

Bubbly brains are bound to burst

Burst bubbly brains blow pink bubbles

Blank brainless bimbos bounce

Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos

Blank bouncing bimbos are brainwashed

Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce

Go on, up and down, bouncing yourself all brainless and bubbly. You'll drift awake awhile after you've finished following my instructions.

Do let me know how silly, brainless, or dumb you felt...if you are comfortable expressing it, of course. Reblog, like and enjoy

[sugar-coat-it]

Car sex with Matty <3

This won the poll by a lot hehehe I don’t blame you guys

This was kinda inspired by THE Halsey post I’m ngl: “He writes his name in the fog on the mirror from where he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pressed my face against the glass.”

If you’re not into degradation please go ahead and skip this one, Matty is meaaaan in this fic

Fem! Reader

Contains: Inappropriate dancing, reader being bratty, car sex (duh, so exhibitionism by default), unprotected penetrative sex (doggy), degradation (Matty calls reader names), rough sex, light choking, spit play (Matty spits in her mouth), aftercare

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A bit of clubbing ends with rough, mean sex in Matty’s car 

—-----------------------------------------------------

You can feel every beat of the music in the hollowness of your chest, pounding in your head and disorienting you in the best way. You move freely to the music, the heat of the bodies around you making your hair stick to your face, your skin glow with sweat. Matty watches your body closely, his hand on your hips as they sway and rock to the rhythm. That dress you chose is particularly eye-catching under the flashing lights, the sparkles just as distracting as your movements. It’s the point of the night when no one knows what time it is or how long you’ve been there, you’re lost in the music. You’re not even sure where your friends that you’d come with are, but of course, your boyfriend hasn’t left your side the whole night. The two of you would probably hate this music outside of the club, but that’s the magic of going dancing, isn’t it? Even the shittiest electronica sounds like the best song you’ve ever heard.

Matty bites his lip as you tilt your head back and close your eyes with a lazy grin on your glossed lips, clearly feeling this song. His hands grip your hips a little tighter, pulling you closer to his body. He’s too infatuated with you to care if it’s bad form to let you dance up on him like this, he needs you as close as possible right now in this sea of scantily clad bodies. He only has eyes for you, no matter how many women try to give him enticing looks and draw him in with their glittery facades. You grin wider as you feel Matty’s hands slide up your back, feeling the bit of skin revealed by the cutout of your dress. His fingertips linger there as he relishes in the warmth coming off of your body. Matty’s previously gelled hair is hanging in damp ringlets on his face, bouncing slightly as he moves with you, marveling at how gorgeous his girlfriend looks under these lights. Your eyes flutter open to see how Matty’s are lidded and narrowing, a warning perhaps at the way your hips rock against his to the rhythm. You just smile at him coyly, pretending you don’t know exactly what you’re doing, swaying up against his body. He gives your hips a sharp, cautionary squeeze, but he doesn’t exactly push you off of him. Matty leans in as you throw your arms around him, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Behave,” Matty rasps in your ear, barely audible above the pulsing music.

He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, curls tickling the sides of your face. You mouth “What?” at him playfully, even though you heard him just fine. This is likely not going to end well for you, you can tell just by the look on his face right now. But, there’s something about playing with fire when it comes to Matty that makes it feel good to get burned. You press yourself closer to him, your breasts flush against his chest as your hot breaths fan on each other’s faces. Victory bubbles up inside you when you feel him getting stiff in his trousers, excitement thrumming in your veins as you remember just how weak he is for you. The crowd, along with the darkness of the club makes for the perfect environment for your next move. You swivel your hips, turning around in his grasp so your back is to his chest, your ass to his crotch. Draping yourself back over him, you catch the way Matty lets out a grunt at the friction as you start to grind. The other people at the club are too busy dancing or being off their tits to notice, which means you can be as provocative as you please (until Matty has enough of you, that is). 

He grits his teeth, hissing your name as he keeps a death grip on your hips. You wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises in the morning in the shape of your boyfriend’s fingers. Matty drags a hand from your hips up your stomach, over the silky fabric covering your breasts, and to your neck. Possessively, he wraps his fingers around your throat, but he doesn’t squeeze, he just holds you there so you know how much fucking trouble you’re in. You’re just smiling up at the ceiling, the strobe lights flashing under your closed eyelids as you press your hips back against his hard-on, knowing you’re going to be crying tears of mascara very soon.

Just as you predicted, as soon as the song ends, he’s taking you by the wrist and dragging you off of the dance floor, pushing through the crowd to the exit. He’s eerily silent as he leads you to the alley where he’d parked his car. 

“Matty, slow down,” you huff, your face still flushed from the heat of the club.

Matty’s jaw is clenched, his grip on you is mean, his fingernails biting into your skin as he refuses to answer or even look at you. You’re stumbling to keep up with his long strides in your heels. When he lets go of you, you rub at your wrist with a frown, trying to soothe the ache he’d left behind. You expect him to open the passenger’s side door for you like he always does, but instead, he simply says:

“Back seat.”

Only now he looks at you as he opens the back door, an intensity behind his toffee-colored eyes that makes you shiver. There isn’t an ounce of warmth in his gaze, such a jarring difference from how he normally worships the ground you walk. You swallow thickly, sliding into the back seat before adjusting the skirt of your dress as it rides up your thighs.

“Oh, feeling modest now, are you?” Matty chuckles darkly, looking in both directions to make sure no one is around before sliding in next to you. 

He says nothing for a few moments, just staring at you like he’s deciding if he wants to tear you to pieces. You cower under his gaze, toying with the rings on your fingers like his prey on a platter. The moment you look away, Matty swiftly takes your chin in his hand roughly, making you look up at him, ripping a gasp from your lips.

“You just couldn’t fucking help yourself, could you? You know, I reckon anyone could have seen you if they got close enough,” he says, his upper lip twitching with irritation. 

“Was just having fun…” you mumble, your lips going slack instinctually.

“Having fun?” Matty repeats mockingly, “What happened to my good girl, huh? Cause that sure as hell wasn’t her,” he continues, thumbing over your cheek softly in stark contradiction to the way he’s gripping your face. 

You whimper softly, crawling towards him, just wanting to touch him in any way, but Matty has other plans. He swats you away before you can get any closer, moving to lean against the door after letting go of your jaw, out of your reach. You quickly eye the bulge in his trousers, letting out a shaky breath at the sight of what you’d done to him.

“Strip,” he orders curtly, watching you with coldness. 

You’re fucked. 

Without talking back, you reach to unzip your dress, shrugging off the straps to let the silky fabric cascade down your body. Matty watches you closely, you can feel his eyes boring into you as you lift your hips off of the seat to let your dress fall to the floor, discarded near your heels. You silently thank whoever customized this car for the tinted windows while you reach to unclasp your bra. The corners of your lips twitch as you try to repress a smile at the way his hands fist into the fabric of his pants to control himself. No matter how he digs his nails into the fabric, he can’t help himself when it comes to his girl. Before you can reach for the waistband of your panties, he’s leaning over you and moving your legs towards him to take them off himself… with his teeth. Your lips part with a gasp as he bites down on the elastic, tugging down with his teeth while keeping shiver-inducing eye contact with you. You lift your hips to aid him as he drags them down between his sharp canines. Heat is pooling inside you embarrassingly quickly under his glare, you can almost see the cogs turning in his mind as he flips through all the things he wants to do it you. Once he’s got them far enough down your legs, he gets impatient and just pulls them off you with his hands swiftly, stuffing them in his pocket (you’re likely not getting those back). 

“Fuck sake, you’re this wet already? Haven’t even touched you,” Matty scoffs, practically ripping your legs apart to get a better look.

You just bite your lip, your head dipping down sheepishly. He gives your thigh a light smack with an expectant look, your eyebrows furrow as you try to figure out what he wants from you. He just rolls his eyes at you and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. 

“All fours, dearest,” Matty orders with a bit of venom on his tongue as he spits the word “dearest”. 

With a pout, you readjust to get on your hands and knees, facing away from him. Anticipation is buzzing inside your chest as you hear the sound of his belt clinking behind you, clothes shifting as he pulls down his trousers. You swallow thickly as you feel Matty shift forward, something about being treated like this has your thighs pressing together, sticky with your honey. Suddenly, Matty’s pressing his tip through your velvety folds, making you moan out lowly as it just barely kisses your clit. He doesn’t give you the usual murmur of praise for how pretty you are, not even the satisfaction of making a single sound as he runs the head of his cock against you. Without the courtesy of letting you adjust to his size, he lines himself up and pushes into you in one swift motion. You yelp as he fills you up to the hilt, a dull, aching burn in your walls as he practically splits you in half. With a grunt, Matty starts pistoning his hips into you relentlessly, the sound of skin smacking against skin echoing in the vehicle. Moaning pathetically, you try to crane your neck to look back at him as he fucks you ruthlessly, keeping a bruising grip on your hips. The look on his face makes you flutter around him immediately, the way he’s clenching his jaw with a cruel flicker in his eyes. He catches your gaze and quickly reaches to turn your head away from him, pressing the side of your face into the glass. You whimper loudly, your hot breath fogging up the window as your glossy lips leave a mark on the glass. All you can do is whine and moan as he uses this position as leverage to fuck you harder. Draping himself over your body, you feel the panting of his breath against your ear.

“God, you’re such slut sometimes I swear. Do I teach you to act like that? Grinding up on me in public like a bitch in heat?” he grunts, slamming himself in and out of you with a vengeance. 

You let out a cry as the filth spills from his lips, rasping right near the shell of your ear. You’ve never gotten Matty so riled up before, it’s making your head spin. You moan out something of a garbled apology against the glass but Matty doesn’t acknowledge you, he just keeps ruthlessly drilling into your sopping cunt. The tip of his cock is going so deep inside you, it’s mind-numbing. Your eyes roll back in your head as the pressure builds inside you, threatening to break you to pieces as your body quivers under Matty’s ravaging. He lets go of your hip with his other hand and snakes it to your lower stomach, pressing down meanly to feel himself inside you. 

“Feel me in your guts, huh?” he chuckles darkly as you mewl and shake. 

Your mind is too hazy to regret what you did if you’re being honest with yourself, especially not when Matty’s got you a few strokes away from an orgasm. He stops pressing his fingers against your skin, his ego sufficiently fluffed by feeling just how good he’s filling you up, and returns to digging his fingers into your hips. In a panic, you reach back to grab onto his hand, squeezing hard to get his attention. 

“Matty, Matty, baby, I-I’m,” you sputter, barely stringing words together. 

“Jesus, am I fucking you stupid? Use your words,” he snaps, punctuating his statement with a particularly harsh thrust inside you. 

“Close…” you whimper out, rocking your body back to meet his relentless thrusts.

At that, Matty completely stills his hips with a humorless chuckle. He lets up the pressure he’s putting on your face against the window so he can turn you to look at him by your chin. Your eyes are wide, your heart practically beating out of your chest with the unease simmering in your gut. Despite the way he’s making you feel so incredibly small and intimidated, it doesn’t stop the way your walls clench around him amidst the tension. Matty coos at you when he sees the meek look in your pretty doe-eyes, knowing you have no clue what he has planned for you. For a moment, you think he might be sweet again as he leans in like he’s about to kiss you. Your lips part in anticipation of his mouth on yours like an offer of forgiveness. But instead, he eases your mouth open further and spits on your tongue. Your eyelids flutter as you let out a guttural moan at the pure fucking disrespect of it all, swallowing it down without hesitation.

“You really think I’m gonna let you cum?” Matty grins wolfishly, “If you wanna act like a whore, I’m gonna use you like one.”

“M-sorry, Matty,” you whine, your body quivering under him. 

“Is that right? A damn shame you decided to be a brat, then,” Matty murmurs, letting go of your jaw coldly.

Without giving you a second to breathe, he starts fucking into you again, relishing in the way you cry out as his hips snap into yours again and again. You’re not sure how he could possibly go any harder, the sight of his muscles in his arms flexing with the effort he’s putting into fucking you is making you practically drool against the glass. Matty grunts, his blunt nails digging into your hip bones as he pulls you to meet his thrusts. You can tell he’s getting close from the way his pace is getting frantic, the breathiness of his voice a dead giveaway of him on the edge of finishing. 

“Not even sure if you deserve my cum inside you,” Matty hisses, snaking a hand up your stomach until he reaches your neck, constricting his fingers around your throat just enough to make you feel tingly all over. 

“No! Please, please I want it- I need it,” you sob, gasping at the possessive fingers digging at your throat. 

“Course you do. Cause you’re fuckin’ gagging for my cock all the time, huh?” he snarls, “Always thinking with your cunt and not your head, it’s fucking pathetic.”

You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to, not with the way you’re needily throbbing around his dick, crying like the thought of not getting filled to the brim by him is unbearable. Following the patterns of no warnings and spitefulness, Matty grunts through gritted teeth and spills inside you, filling you up so deep that you feel like your legs might give out from under you. Moaning wantonly, you struggle to keep yourself up, going slack against the car door with your face against the glass, all while Matty’s hand is still around your throat. You can barely think, mind spinning with the way you’d just been thoroughly used with no reward, left whimpering with cum dripping out of your puffy, abused cunt and trails of mascara tears on your cheeks. Whining softly, you feel him pull out of you, his grip on your neck loosening to just a gentle hold on you, his thumb rubbing along your collarbones tenderly. 

“C’mere sweet thing,” Matty says, all the sweetness you’ve come to know back in his tone.

Without hesitation, you’re turning and crawling to lay against him, your hair sticking to your face with a sheen of sweat. He reaches to cup your cheek, leaning to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. You’re only now realizing that Matty’s still fully clothed, he’d only pulled his pants down enough to get his cock out. The revelation makes you whimper as you sit there, totally bare against the leather seats with his cum leaking out of you. As if he can read your mind, he reaches over for your discarded dress that’s in a heap on the floor, helping you pull it over your head before encircling his arms around you, enveloping you in just the way you need. You’re both still trying to catch your breath from the intensity of it all. Matty knows he pushed you, and you handled it all beautifully.

“My perfect, perfect girl,” he whispers, holding you to his chest like you’re his most prized, and most delicate possession.

Still in a daze, you let yourself surrender to your boyfriend completely, just needing to feel him in any way possible. Even after getting the mean fucking of a lifetime, do you really regret a thing? Nope. You just smile against his chest, knowing you’re still his princess, and when you get back to your flat, he’s going to eat you like a man starved as a reward.

[taraprince]

fumes <3

warnings: i accidentally made this smut oops

summary: you and snape enjoy quality time together, but what events will lead after you awake your usual slumber?

—————————————— 🐍

the sound of the warm, crackling fire bouncing off the sensitive dungeon walls lulled you to sleep in the soft armchair you had claimed in the far corner of the potion masters study. often nights would end up like this, you dozing off in his quarters while he grades papers or mends his shop. not that either of you minded, in fact, it happened often enough it almost seemed like a routine between the two of you. something about having each others silent company gave you both just the boost you needed to go about your daily tasks, dealing with insufferable students.

severus meddled with some ingredients on his desk, watching you out of the corner of his eye. he couldn’t quite explain the feeling he felt when he looked at you. it wasn’t anger, no.. surely not. maybe happiness?? perhaps, in a way. nevertheless, he enjoyed always having the thought in the back of his mind that you were there and you cared. not just for anybody, but for him.

you begin to stir awake slowly as a curious aroma fills the dungeon. severus immediately notices your body twitching and becoming aware of your surroundings. your face contorts uncomfortably as you wriggle around in the small cushioned armchair, eventually giving up on comfort. you rub your eyes as you stand up and look around curiously, making your way to snapes desk. your face contorts again, only this time in disgust as the scent becomes more prominent the closer you get to him.

“sev, what’re you making that smells this awful?” you rub your temples as a small migraine begins to form.

“oh actually im making amortentia for tomorrows lesson.” his face drops and his eyes are filled with sorrow.

“oh” you say blankly.

the end

(JK LMFAO that just popped into my head when writing OKAY ANYWAY)

“i’m just cutting up some ingredients for tomorrows lesson, i apologize for waking you,” he looks up at you from his desk and gives a weak smile, his face was almost sad looking, but you knew he was trying to be sympathetic.

you smiled back, coming around his desk until you were directly behind his chair. “no worries, i was just wondering was all,” curiosity suddenly pulses through your veins, becoming rapidly more intrigued by the man in front of you.

“sev?”

he hummed softly in response, his heart stopping in his chest as he realizes how close you are to him.

“when will you be finished? i have something i want to ask you.” you toy with the sides of his chair, kneeling down slightly to rest your chin on his head.

he blinks erratically, his brain stopping for a moment. his anxiety almost bubbles out of him as he tries to maintain a stoic expression. “i have a few more to chop up, but i’m sure they can wait. what is it you have to ask me, ms y/l/n?” he swivels his chair to face you.

you inhale sharply, pondering your next move. you inch ever closer to him, practically sitting on his lap. “are you a virgin, severus?” it came out as nearly a whisper, but you can tell he heard you by the way his sharp features contorted, and his pale skin burned pink.

he blinks slowly, gathering his thoughts and emotions. his face quickly returns to looking unbothered before whispering back, “curious, are we ms y/l/n?” it had come out more cocky than he intended, but the way your face mirror his shocked expression made him decide it was worth it.

the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and you both felt it. no more words were spoken for another few seconds.

“i would-“ you began, but he had cut you off, grabbing the back of your head and smashing your lips together.

though in shock, you quickly gathered a rhythm. he kissed you passionately, hungrily, almost as if he had been waiting for this moment all night he was lmfao. you were now straddling him on his desk chair, slightly bucking your hips instinctively against his. this earned a low growl from him, which you swallowed with your own tiny whimpers.

seemingly hours pass before you separate for air, only connected by a single strand of saliva. you just gaze into each other eyes for a moment, enjoying each others intimate presence. his dark eyes move down to examine your body, seeming to just take in the situation at hand. he begins to breathe heavily, nervous. you rest your hands on his chest and give him a comforting look, reassuring him that everything is fine.

“we don’t have to-“

“no,” he cuts you off quickly, tensing up slightly as his hands gripping your waist firmly. he relaxes and his grip loosens a little. “i want to.”

you smile at one another again, only this time with a different intent. he snakes his hands around your waist as he stands up, making sure you don’t tumble to the ground. as your both standing you share another brief moment of intimacy as he slowly caresses your body, moving in such a way that one might think this was the last time you’d get to see one another.

you share another kiss, only this one more deep and lustful. his hands move up from your body and tangle themselves in your hair, pushing your head against his. your hands roam around his chest, beginning to unbutton his many layered cloak. he pulls back abruptly, grabbing your hands with one of his large ones.

all he does is cock his head to the side for a brief moment, giving you a daring look before he swiftly turns you around, bending you over his desk (after waving away his ingredients of course). he rests his body atop yours, his hot breathe intimidating your sensitive ear lobe. he bites down slightly, causing you to let out a small whimper.

“we really musn’t touch things without permission, ms y/l/n..” the words come out slurred and full of lust as he growls in your ear. he nibbles again before kissing down your shoulder, biting down and licking the mark before moving lower to your mid back.

he raises his body up, still holding your hips against his as he grinds slightly. you feel his large bulge prod and tease you through his thick trousers, causing you to become impossibly more wet at the feeling.

“severus, please… i’m so wet” you whined and begged, trying to move your hands down to help him undress since he seemed to be taking his time, but one of his large hands was still caging your wrists in place above your head, preventing any movement.

it took everything in him to keep his composure, to make sure he didn’t just fuck you senseless within the second you had moaned his name. he sharply inhaled as he inspected your cunt through your panties, indeed very wet.

he tutted slowly, using a spell to keep your hands binded in place as he moved both of his down to slowly remove your panties. “all this and i haven’t even touched you yet, hm? your such a dirty girl, ms y/l/n.”

his velvety voice alone could’ve made you cum on the spot, as well as the feeling of your panties being dragged agonizingly slowly down your legs, finally dropping to the floor. he folds your skirt up all the way, presenting yourself completely at his disposure.

you moan loudly as you feel an unexpected heat on your inner thigh. he licked and teased as he bit love bites into your thighs, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. finally, after ages of teasing, he licked a bold stripe along your soaking pussy. he sucked and licked your clit as his fingers fondled your quivering entrance. he pushes one, two, three fingers in and begins pumping at a steady pace while continuing his oral work, making sure to collect all your juices.

he continued to eat you out like a starved man until you begged and whined for him to let you release. he took your poor clit between his teeth and sucked, flicking his tongue quickly over the sensitive bud. “cum for me, darling. coat my face with your cum.”

you lose yourself to his words, orgasming strongly all over his face and fingers. he pulled his digits out of your cunt and you heard him suck on them in his mouth, pulling them out with a pop.

he wiped your glistening juices off of his chin before flipping you around to face him, eyeing you dangerously. he sucked and kissed your collarbone, leaving traces of himself all along your body.

before you could go any further, a loud knock came from the dungeon entrance. both of you tensed, quickly turning to face the door. severus looked down at you hesitantly before standing upright, adjusting his attire and combing his hair with his fingers.

“who is it?” his tone was obviously annoyed, more annoyed than usual. the person on the other side did not reply right away, probably intimidated by his booming voice at such an hour like this.

“it is me sir, harry.” the voice was weary, nervous for what snape would say next.

he grumbled, clearly agitated as he made his way to the door muttering “what could he possibly need during this hour.” he opened the door and went out, making sure to not let potter see you still spread on his desk, unable to move because of the binding charms set.

you hear him taking 10 points from gryffendor, making you giggle softly at his mood swings. not much time had passed before he finally came back in, looking more annoyed than when he left. he comes back to his desk, examining you one last time before removing the charms on your body, sighing evidently.

“i’m sorry, my love. we can continue this another night, perhaps tomorrow when i’ll be able to fully pleasure you most.” he seems embarrassed as you get dressed again, looking down in shame.

once you’re finished, you hold his face in your hands, kissing him softly. “don’t worry, severus. i wouldn’t want you to feel as if you have to force yourself upon this. whenever you’re ready, i’ll be waiting for you.” you offer him a small smile, content with how he seems to cheer up slightly at the reassurance.

he kisses you softly one last time before picking you up bridal style, escorting you both to his sleeping chambers. you both cuddle up to each other, just enjoying each others simple presence yet again as your mind aimlessly wanders, lulling you back into your deep sleep.

severus smiles to himself before kissing the top of your head softly and tightening his grip slightly. he rests his head atop yours, allowing his mind to wander until he too is lulled to sleep.

and there you both lay, enjoying the feeling of each other embrace until it is time to awake again, beginning a new day filled with stress and teaching and children. but at least you have each other to look forward too.

—————————————— 🐍

a/n: me after avoiding writing real smut ✌️✌️✌️ SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2???? i’m not very confident in my smut writing abilities which is why i cut it off, but if you wanna see it i’ll write it since i really should utilize my sudden motivation. (this isn’t really proofread so if it’s bad or if there’s any mistakes my apologies) also help the title is so stupid, but i made the title before writing it cus i thought it was cute so just go with it.

[sloth-babied]

Stay the Night

Shuri x POC reader

Summary: You’ve been keeping it a secret that Shuri’s been your muse for a lot of your music. When you decide to show her a song you’ve been working on, she starts to piece together who you’ve been writing about.

or

Reader is a musician who stubbornly denies to one of the smartest people on Earth that she isn’t your muse.

Contains: Shy reader, tension, and angst if you really squint. No use of y/n.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: No, I am not dead! Just burnt out, yk how it is. But I had motivation to write this, so I really hope yall enjoy! Not my best work, but it’s something. And sorry for not being active. 

(Also I recommend listening to The Internet while reading just bc that’s what I listened to, hence the title lol)

Shuri stares at you as you adjust the headphones on her head, hyper aware of the proximity between the two of you. She only nods when you ask if she’s comfortable before the heel of your palm rests on the desk. Your finger hovers over the computer keyboard, reluctant to press play.

“It’s just a draft, so you know, lower your expectations.”

“Just play the song,” she laughs lightly, very much aware that this was a first draft from the numerous times you told her before even handing her your headphones.

You murmur a quick and sheepish, “Okay,” and click the spacebar. Her shoulders bounce, entertained by your apprehensiveness.

You deeply inhale as your heart starts beating faster, in contrast to Shuri who simply bops her head gently to the rhythm, the ball of her foot tapping the wooden floor.

You rarely showed anyone your early drafts, either out of worry in case they disliked what they heard, or if their enjoyment would jinx your chances of actually finishing the track. Yeah, you can be a bit superstitious—that Shuri knows with all the wood-knocking you’ve done around her.

Which is why it was uncharacteristic of you to show Shuri your latest project. 

It presented itself as an impulsive, “You wanna hear this new song I’m working on?” and you couldn’t take it back when you were met with an enthusiastic ‘yes’.

Shuri’s brows furrow, the movement of her head much more exaggerated. 

“This is good!” She compliments you loudly, tapping on one side of the headphones. You shush her humorously, reminding her of your neighbors and the lack of soundproof foam on your walls. “Sorry,” she chuckles before whispering, “This is good,” again.

It’s mostly dark in the room, the only light source in the room coming from the computer screen. The light reflects on Shuri’s skin, her eyes closed when she isn’t occasionally stealing glances at the side of your face, curious about the words you’ve written; envious of who you’ve written it for, though she’s had hopeful suspicions.

Your eyes stay glued on the screen, too embarrassed to watch the person who was, unbeknownst to her, your muse. 

Truthfully, she had been the subject of many of your songs, released and unreleased, since you first fell in love with her. That was two years ago. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from the long day or the present time of night that made the idea of sharing your music more enticing. Or maybe, subconsciously, you had to tell her how you felt without actually telling her.

Shuri hums along to the chorus, naturally catching onto the melody and you scratch your cheek in an attempt to hide your smile. You feel giddy inside at the way her body reacts—just so in-sync like she always is with the rest of your music. 

Until the song hits the bridge. 

Through your peripheral vision, it’s hard to ignore Shuri’s head movement slowing down to a halt. You catch a proper glimpse of her, only for a second, and oh, no, her face has gone blank. You feel your chest heave and now your brain is spiraling, wondering what the hell is going on in hers.

Shuri looks off, really listening this time. She flicks another glance at you before the last chorus arrives. And when it ends, she removes the headphones at a pace that perturbs you a bit…a lot actually. You’re left uneasy when she holds your headphones on her lap. She hasn’t looked at you and she hasn’t said anything yet.

“I know it’s not great,” you scratch the back of your neck then steal the headphones from her, laying them on the desk. Aimlessly, you fumble with your laptop, laughing nervously to fill the silence. “It’s just a draft. I probably won’t even finish it.”

Shuri’s still not saying anything and, christ, is it bothering you. At this point you’d rather she say it’s downright bad instead of keeping you on edge like this. But eventually she speaks, and when you hear her say your name, you initially feel like you could breathe again because she finally said something. However, that only lasts for a second.

“Is this true?” 

Your finger freezes on the mouse. You turn your head in her direction but her gaze doesn’t meet yours. You’re unsure what to say.

“What you wrote…is it true?” 

She takes the mouse from you, the feel of her hand leaving tingles on your skin. She clicks back to the beginning of the bridge before removing the headphone jack. Your voice plays on the speaker and suddenly you’re too stunned to remind her of your neighbors.

What exactly did you write? Nothing specific, or so you thought.

Then she pauses the song, an audible click coming from the spacebar, anticipatedly eyeing you. 

You shrug as an attempt to seem oblivious. (One might call it ‘gaslighting’.) 

“I write little stories for my songs,” you try to play it off. “I mean, I guess some are real, but most of ‘em aren’t, you know?” 

“You wrote about our time at the beach.” She states plainly, leaning back against her chair. She’s referring you to the secret beach you snuck her into in your hometown—a beach only so many people know of.

You glance at the notification-free lock screen of your phone on the desk; another excuse not to look her in the eye. “I take inspiration from shit in my own life.”

“And in your last album you wrote about the time we went on that hike together.” She adds. Yikes, you were hoping she wouldn’t notice that. 

“We’re lost in the woods,

I’m lost in your eyes.”

Damn your corny attempts at being poetic. You nearly cringe recalling the moment you wrote that. 

A year ago you went hiking with Shuri, and you insisted that you didn’t need any technology to navigate your way back home. You figured you’d walk back down the trail you walked up on, until you kept passing the same tree over and over again. Shuri laughed at you the entire time, comforted by the fact that she brought her Kimoyo bead bracelet with her, as you slowly started to freak out despite your refusal to admit you were wrong and maybe a map could’ve been useful.

“I hike all the time.” No, you don’t.

“No, you don’t,” Shuri shakes her head, one side of her lips tilting upwards. She leans forward and grabs the apron of your chair between your legs, rolling you closer to her until her knee hits the edge of your seat and your thighs loosely puzzle together. 

The light from the bright red motel sign across the street peaks through each horizontal slit of the blind curtain, and the cool night breeze outside lightly blows through the half-open window, lifting the curtain only a little, red occasionally sneaking under the bottom hem of the window covering. 

With the wind entering, the room should feel cool. It’s supposed to be. Yet your cheeks flush and the heat centered around your face tempts you to remove your hoodie because it’s easier to blame a jacket than the girl who’s figured you out.

You reattach your hand back on the mouse, unsure what you’d even do with it, but Shuri’s hand covers yours, your moist palm now stagnant on the object. 

“You released a single the year we met,” she says, her voice quieter than before but louder than a whisper. She doesn’t explain further. You remember the party two years ago and you know exactly what you wrote. Who are you to fool one of the most brilliant minds on the planet?

The computer screen dims, allowing you to notice the red illuminating on the back of her hand. You see red highlight the outline of her body and she stares at the red on the edge of your face. Then she looks at your eyes, your lips, then your eyes once again. Shuri slides her palm up to your elbow, her grip neither tight nor loose. 

“What are you so afraid of?” asks Shuri. 

You had spent so much of your romantic life dejected. Countless dating apps resulting in crappy dates. Or worse: friendships. Too many “The more I get to know you, the more I get friendly vibes from you”. Too many “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for this,” when really they realized they actually didn’t like you. Then when you knew someone in your own life who you liked romantically, the feeling—more often than not—wasn’t mutual. 

Best case scenario, you remain friends but things are only just a little awkward. Worst case scenario, they insist that things are okay then gradually ghost you. 

At this point, you were ready to give up.

“I don’t wanna…” you trail off.

She leans closer and whispers, “What?”

You stare off at anything that isn’t her. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

She leans down and tilts her face up, forcing your eyes to meet hers. She raises her brows. “Because…?”

You tuck your chin and your brows quirk. “Because?”

“I want you to tell me why you’re afraid of losing me,” she places her other hand on your armrest, trapping you, and you start stammering. “Since you do it so well in your songs.”

You can’t get anything out, though she doesn’t look away. You feel stuck, considering the numerous things you could tell her. Alternatively, you sigh. Fuck it. 

“I think I’ve told you enough,” you inhale, cupping one hand on her jaw and the other on the back of her neck before you firmly kiss her. Shuri lets out a muffled noise before reciprocating. 

And you both think, Finally.

Her body starts to sway backwards as you press against her, however she pushes you back against your chair. Her hands grab the sides of your face—one hand under your hood and the other over—refusing to let go now that she’s on her feet. Her upper body bends down just so her lips can live on yours, and a chuckle escapes both of you when your chair rolls backwards, almost hitting the wall behind you.

Admittedly, you enjoy sitting as she envelops your lips, but you decide to stand. Your hands slide down to her waist as you slowly walk her backwards until her legs meet the edge of your bed and she ends up landing on her bottom with her elbows supporting her weight as she gazes up at you, several red horizontal lines covering her body.

God, you can’t believe this is happening. You can’t believe Shuri wants you as much as you want her. Everything feels…unreal. Dream-like.

“Come here,” she pulls your wrist and you land on top of her. The bed bounces beneath you as her hand slithers up to your neck, drawing you in for a chaste kiss. She catches you in your thoughts. “You okay?” Is this okay? 

You nod, still admiring her below you. You whisper, “I didn’t think you’d…pay attention. To what I wrote. I didn’t know you were listening like that.”

Shuri caresses your neck with her thumb. She takes note of the neon blue light illuminating half of your face from a bar sign also across the street, below the motel sign. 

She kisses your cheek, your chin, then your lips once again. “I’ll always listen to you.”

[ahhhwomen]

Officer Hot

Trigger Happy AU

Part 2

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Tried to switch between pov and past/present some more with this one.  Also, this may be a calm chapter…. But let’s just say the tags aren’t for nothing… some true colors are soon to be revealed…

Thank yall for the love on part 1, hope yall enjoy (+｀∀´)b

Disclaimer: English is not my first language… all mistakes are my own

AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI

Warnings Part 2: Slight stalking, impatient professor, thirsty reader

Summary: Officer Maximoff doesn’t like your roommate.

Word Count: 1357

You can’t stop. Your legs bounce under your desk, and your fingers tap a paced rhythm. You sigh in annoyance; you just can’t stop thinking about her.

/////

You had been extremely late to class.

The professor had stood there cussing you out for a good 10 minutes until he finally relented and let you sit down. When he was yelling at you, you were sure you would cry, but you didn’t. You didn’t even have to sniffle to keep the tears at bay, like when you were in high school and would tear up every time someone mentioned Mr. Wilford, your then-Spanish teacher.

It feels like you aren’t even here, your mind is hazy, and you can’t seem to pull focus. Your thoughts just keep drifting toward the redhead you practically ran from to get here. Had you known you would be late anyways, you might have stayed a bit longer. You liked her rich voice, the way she spoke with such authority.

She had stood so tall and secure when she spoke to you. Her green eyes, searching. The way she looked at you was so disarming, so… Hungry.

She had acted like she wanted to eat you alive.

…..What would happen had you let her?

The way her hot breath felt against your ear, the way she smirked at you. It was all a sweet form of domination. Would she be gentle? Would she pet your hair while telling you what a good girl you are as you kneel for her?

Or would she have fucked you right there, by the side of the road for her team, and any by-walkers to see? Would she wrap her hands around your throat and squeeze just the right amount? Or maybe she would leave bruises, show the world whom you belonged to-

“Hallo?”

You almost jump out of your seat.

Looking around with wide eyes you realize you are the only one left in the classroom, save for the professor. The professor that is continuously waving his hand in front of your face. Realization washes over you and you almost smack your head into your desk in embarrassment. Before he can question you, or yell at you, about what the hell is wrong with you. You hastily pack up and leave with a quick sorry thrown in his direction.

You feel flush, never had your fantasies taken you down that road. Especially not with a complete stranger. Your thighs rub together as you walk down the corridor; an uncomfortable amount of wetness was accumulating.

You feel a bit guilty as you wonder what the issue was. Maybe something really bad had happened, maybe someone had died. You chew your lip, nervously. Was there a reason for Officer Maximoff to question you specifically? You shake your head; you were getting way ahead of yourself.

Perhaps it was just by chance? Wrong place, wrong time maybe?

You wonder what she is going to ask you.

-------

The redhead’s rapport sits unwritten in her folder. It didn’t matter. Not when she finally has something of purpose to do.

Like the proper girl you are, you had written down your full name on the piece of paper. Wanda smiles as she reads it over and over, Y/n Y/l/n. You had been such a good girl, such a sweet little kitten.

Wanda had been researching you, and your life, for the past few hours. After you ran away from her, earlier that day, she had driven back to the station and immediately entered your name into their database.

How could someone blame her for wanting to take a peek into the life of her good girl?

Y/n Y/l/n, y/a years of age, you live two blocks away from the “crime scene”. Apartment house: Acornhouse Ave, Apt 62. You have a roommate named Jessica Maison, age 24. From what she could find on her own, you don’t use social media a whole lot.

Your roommate, however, appears to be obsessed with it. She has countless users, all of whom are updated thoroughly throughout the day. Every post is a useless picture of either Jessica’s face or food.

There is only one photo that caught her eye.

It was posted 7 months back. It is a picture of you and her, at some party, she is standing far too close for comfort, and she has her hands wrapped around you.

Wanda’s nails dig into her palm as she clenches her fists. She has to remember to breathe through her nose and exhale out her mouth. It’s best she stays calm; she doesn’t want to scare you away too fast. However, Wanda can’t just ignore the photo, you looked so uncomfortable. Like you had wanted to get away, away from that disgusting girl. She has to do something. She’s a cop, after all, it’s her responsibility to keep you safe and secure.

She has an idea.

-------

You almost moan as you set your bag down. After having to walk an extra three blocks just to get home, you were exhausted, and in much need of some food.

You lean down to unlace your Converse and put them on the shoe rack, and with a groan, you also put Jessica’s shoes in their designated place. You love her, but come on, was it that difficult to move her shoes?

“I’m home!”

“….”

Strange. You can’t recall her having a shift at the diner today? Least of all without her snickers. Your brows knit together, but you shrug it off, she’s probably just getting food or something.

As if on cue your stomach rumbles. You make your way to the kitchen, disappointed to see the lack of food, you throw in a microwavable dinner into the microwave.  As you wait, you think more of what could have happened in your, rather boring, neighborhood. They had blocked off the street from this morning. So, you couldn’t get a good look, but you remember seeing a big black plastic bag before the Officer walked over to you. A body bag maybe?

You hope not.

A “pling” alarms you that your food is ready, and you sit down at the small dining table, which could barely count as a table, to eat it. Jessica always prefers to sit on the couch and eat, but you find it a bit sloppy, and you would rather not have to clean the couch every day due to your habit of missing your mouth. More than what is probably normal for a legal adult like yourself.

After a while, and a thorough cleaning of the table from your mishaps, you can finally get ready for bed. You roll your shoulders as you walk to the bathroom. You have been feeling all types of sticky since this morning and can’t wait to get it off.

As you turn on the light to the bathroom you feel a shiver run down your spine. You can’t place it, but something feels… off.

Like you weren’t the only one there, in your tiny little apartment.

You intend on just ignoring this strange feeling as it would be almost impossible to hide in this small space, but your guts tell you to just check. Just to make sure. You turn back around, intending to check if Jessica is just in her room sleeping, but something else catches your attention.

Did Jessica rearrange the furniture?

(a/n: Im sorry. I just love cliffhangers)

[vera-king-hrfl]

Your mouth falls open as you stare at him, wide eyed. You wonder what happened to the shy, self depreciating man that it took you so much patience and effort to even convince to be alone with you. He holds you easily, keeping you stretched around his shaft, head lowered and devouring you with his smoldering gaze. Waiting. He tilts his head, still with that wicked little smile.

His hands tighten on your flanks, claws digging into your flesh, and growls low. He's magnificent. Terrifying. Shaking, you lean forward and press your lips to his and he returns your kiss with shocking gentleness, but he doesn't say anything. Doesn't move. You realize that he needs this. Needs to know how desperately you want him. How utterly overwhelming his presence is. Your mouth wags for a moment and soon a confusion of breathy pleas tumble from your lips.

"Please..." You gasp. "I need you to make me come. I need to feel you... please finish... come inside me. Fill me with your seed, mark me and make me yours. Please, Zevlor, I need you." You finally manage to pry your hands from his horns as you urge him, wrap your arms around his neck, and pull yourself closer, wriggling on him and flexing your thighs as you beg for his favor.

He starts to tremble as you beg for him. As you speak, he grits his teeth with a snarl and lifts you. His nostrils flare as he spreads his knees and leans back toward his heels. At your last words his face contorts with surprise, he gasps, and seems to come back to himself a little. But it's too late for both of you.

"Fuck!"

The first colorful word you've ever heard from him erupts as his hips surge upward and slam into you. You scream as he does what he shouted, no longer teasing or trying to perform, but rutting up into you as hard and fast as he can. He lowers his head and sinks his fangs into your shoulder, drawing another howl from you as you desperately cling to him, wrapping your legs around him. This doesn't slow him, and he's bouncing you against his hips, claws pricking into your flesh.

Perhaps it's the taste of your blood or the sensation of claws rending your skin. You are certainly far beyond caring about a superficial wound on your shoulder or hindquarters. But he quickly changes his grip on you, wrapping one arm around your hips and sliding the other hand into your hair. His mouth moves, biting the side of your throat, drawing blood again. His pace doesn't slow, holding you tight against him as his breath becomes ragged and his rhythm begins to break. At the last moment, he shifts you both so he can spear directly against the aching knot of pleasure inside you. You thrash and shake as your vision blurs and your walls clamp and contract around him. One more quick thrust, and you come apart, and it's enough to bring him with you.

His moans into your neck become more desperate as he chases his release, quickly becoming ragged whimpers. He crushes you to him, stuttering to a shaky halt as his hot seed spurts deep within you. His hips twich a few times as he empties himself completely, holding firmly for a few delicious moments before pulling back to look into your eyes, gasping for breath and shaking like a leaf in the wind. Slowly, he lowers you both back to the bedroll, collapsing on top of you, his arms still tightly around you, softening member still burning inside you. You hold him close, trying to slow your own hammering heart, your legs quivering still on either side of him with the aftershocks of your climax.

[audi0med1c]

I keep imagining Lexa fucking Clarke HARD with the strap, but it’s like their 5th orgasm so she’s getting sloppy, Clarke turns her over and rides her like never, Lexa has the side that vibrates, so she feels everything, her legs start shaking, her grip on Clarke’s waist turns desperate, her eyes roll to the back of her head, her head is thrown back, her back arches so far only her ass and top of her head are in contact with the bed, her mouth in a O, and the silent scream she’s been holding is thrown out in a long howl

🫢 well that’s certainly a vivid thought….(✍🏻) 😏

If that WERE to happen….

Id see it coming after some sort of wave of jealousy, perhaps Clarke had to watch girls all over Lexa while out somewhere… even though Lexa herself wasn’t doing anything to solicit or encourage it…. And usually these types of encounters only trigger Clarke’s possessive dominate side once they are alone (which Lexa absolutely loves)

But this time Clarke doesn’t possessively throw Lexa by the throat backwards onto the bed once they get up to the penthouse. Instead she heckles Lexa all the way up the elevator between kisses about the shameless flirting by all the women and only once Lexa appears thoroughly nervous that she’s actually in some sort of trouble once they make it inside does Clarke finally bite down hard on Lexa’s lower lip and demands that Lexa show her EXACTLY what all these women think they are getting from a night with her.

After several hours, a handful of orgasms and a half-dozen different positions Lexa’s bent over Clarke who’s on her back with her legs draped over Lexa’s shoulders, which is when her pace and rhythm is finally faltering and her abs are straining and the sweat is starting to actually drip down her forehead, so Clarke shoves her sideways to let her collapse onto the bed, barely able to catch her breath as Clarke nimbly unhooks the regular strap Lexa’s been wearing and grabs the double-sided one off the nightstand, sliding the vibrating side into Lexa easily through her completely soaked entrance, chuckling at the way Lexa’s hips instantly begin to buck when she turns it on….and a long broken moan comes tumbling out her mouth when Clarke climbs on top and the weight of her sinking down onto the other end just pushes it further into Lexa as well…..

Lexa’s not regained any of her breath as she struggles to even keep hold of Clarke’s hips while the blonde’s riding her HARD, enjoying the sight of Lexa so obviously wanting to hand back over control and let Clarke have her way with her the rest of the night….with her eyes rolling back in her head to the point where poor Lexa is just barely holding on, with the vibrating dildo being pushed back and forth inside her with each motion Clarke makes on top, when Clarke makes the verbal demand for Lexa to look at her… praising her when she finally does, because she knows the sight of herself bouncing and rolling back and forth on top of Lexa does just as much as any actual physical pleasure….

And most importantly, no matter what kind of night it is of Lexa getting to top Clarke, (because it wouldn’t be all that often)….it’s always ending with Clarke riding on top towards the end when Lexa’s energy starts to deplete….

Because Clarke would definitely make sure to lean forward so her breasts were RIGHT in Lexa’s face when she slides her hand up to grip Lexa firmly at the top of her neck when she seductively teases her about her stamina…. (To get back at all the times Lexa poked fun at her Fabletics brand partnership) because she NEVER lasts as long topping as Clarke can

“Now who’s the one who needs more exercise…?”

[manunelle]

Embraced in Black {NSFW} (One-shot)

Content warning: established relationship, lingerie, spanking, frottage, dacryphilia, blowjob, deepthroat, cum-swallowing.

English is not my first language, so there might be some grammar errors.

Please pay attention to the content warnings before reading!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emma stared at the open closet in front of her, a displeased look on her pretty face. Both hands planted on her hips, casually tapping it with her thin fingers. She had brought a few of her clothes to Sariel’s room, to make the task of getting ready in the morning easier, but she could not decide between any of the garments today. 

Sariel observed the scene in front of him as he put on his jacket, pokerfaced. It was not uncommon to witness his precious fiancée preoccupying over her outfit for the day, always stressing over the tiniest detail. Of course, she was a talented woman, and her talents reached even the fashion field, always styling herself with simple but gorgeous dresses that always made eyes turn her way whenever she goes. 

It was very normal indeed, to see her that way. Except that he was not accustomed to the view of Emma standing in the middle of his room only wearing black-laced lingerie and nothing more. 

The lace embraced her pale body in a perfect fit, accentuating her feminine figure. It was a piece that she often wore whenever they were intimate, which, inevitably, brought a few memories to Sariel’s mind. 

Was she aware? Of what seeing her using that undergarment so carelessly in front of him made to his mind? To his body?

Or was she unaware of it, as she bounced her pretty little ass from one side to the other at a slow rhythm, humming completely ignorant to his heated gaze. 

My, and Sariel had thought that he had taught her to be more careful. 

…Perhaps he needed to teach her another lesson? 

One that would show her that she needed to be aware of her surroundings at all times. 

Especially around him. 

Sariel walked towards her silently, a devilish smile growing on his face. Emma still hadn’t noticed him, or was far too accustomed to connect his approach to something malicious. 

And that was one of her biggest mistakes, since he was the one that she needed to be the most careful of. 

“Oh!” She gasped, feeling his arms firmly circling around her waist. She glanced towards him, a calm smile on her gleaming face. “Are you finished getting ready?” 

Sariel’s smile trembled, almost regretting his following actions.

So innocent and careless, his gorgeous, beautiful Emma. 

“Indeed,” He said, caressing her belly with his gloved hand. “But I can see you are having trouble deciding your outfit for the day, my dear.” 

Emma trembled, feeling her nape hair stand up. The cold leather against her naked skin was both chilling and ticklish, although she felt a strange feeling of anticipation. 

She glanced at him, trying to read his intentions. 

“Yes, I am. I can’t decide between the dark blue and the black one,” she turned her head to the front, trying to ignore Sariel’s intense gaze. “...What do you think?” 

A wet kiss against the side of her neck was certainly not the answer that she expected, although she had already imagined this was the way Sariel would take their morning. A quiet sound left her lips, her cheeks turning a beautiful pink color. 

“Hmm? But I think you look your best like this in this very outfit,” his hands moved towards her lingerie-covered breast, roughly squeezing them. “In this delicious piece that you keep showing around without a thought in your pretty little mind.”

Emma involuntarily squirmed in his embrace, earning another hard squeeze. She glanced back at him, her eyelashes trembling as she held his gaze. Sariel approached her face, smoothly kissing her cheek, the calm before the storm that was to come. 

His lips moved towards her red ear, whispering against it with an alluring voice. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t realize the predatorial way I’ve been staring at you for the past half hour? My, and I thought I had taught you better.” 

Emma opened her mouth, a retort on the tip of her tongue, only for a low moan to leave it when Sariel slowly licked the shell of her ear. She twitched, only for Sariel to press her front against one of the closet’s wooden doors. 

“What if it had been one of the princes to witness you like this?” He asked, caressing the skin of her smooth thigh. “What if one of the princes came through that door right now, only to see you like this, completely appetizing and vulnerable?” 

Sariel traveled her skin at a slow pace, until his hand stopped at her rear, close to the area where the black-lace circled her pale skin. The contrast of the black material against her skin was mouthwatering, something Sariel always thought whenever he saw her covered in the dark color. 

It was almost as if she was covered by him. 

A loud smack sound erupted in the room, a big red mark growing in the skin of her ass. Emma gasped loudly, pressing her forehead against the wood. Her legs were shaking terribly, although it was not from pain nor fear. 

Sariel chuckled, caressing the hot red mark. 

“Would you stay like this?” Another slap came in contact with her back, a shriek coming from her. “Bouncing your pretty little ass for them to see? Wearing only that?” 

He pulled at the side of her underwear, stretching it and chuckling at both the sound of the elastic hitting against her skin and Emma’s sweet cry. She could feel his hardness pressing against her ass, feeling a hot, wet sensation in her lower belly.

Sariel didn’t wait for an answer, slapping against her rear again. He caressed the hot and tender skin, the cool sensation of the glove making a sound similar to a purr grow in the back of Emma’s throat. 

“...only you…”

Sariel stopped, trying to make sense of her mumbles. 

“You will have to speak louder, my dear,” he mocked, placing his other hand over her lower belly. 

Only to suddenly press hard against the soft skin, a loud, surprised moan erupting from her trembling form. She struggled, trying to break free from his embrace, the stimulation too sudden and too much for her to bear. 

Sariel chuckled at her pitiful state, not reducing the stimulation at all. Hugging her tighter, just like a snake would do to its prey, he kept pressing the area, occasionally moving his hand lower, and lower, only to move it upwards again, smiling wildly whenever she turned back to look at him, crystal drops forming in her eyes. 

“What were you saying, Emma?” He pressed his shaft harder against her, containing a moan at the delicious, but torturing sensation. “Could you repeat yourself?” 

“Aaannn…I…Aaaaah!” She cried, placing both her hands over Sariel’s gloved one, his middle finger flicking gently against her clit. “Sariel, please, hold on a second!” 

“Hmm? Was that what you were going to say?” 

Emma glared at him over her shoulder, her cheeks completely red from embarrassment. 

“Of course not! I just–

The sudden sensation of Sariel pinching her clit stole her words, hard breaths leaving her lips. Wide eyed, she gave up on resisting, attempting to clutch at the wooden door with her nails, only to scratch against it. 

He moved his fingers lower, still caressing her bud with his thumb, and started fingering her cunt at a quick pace, raising one of her legs to have better access. Seeing her like this, moaning desperately and completely to his mercy, was the best sight one could witness, and the fact that only he had ever seen her like this made his member only grow harder and painful. 

The stimulation was too much, too embarrassing, too good, and finally the knot at her lower stomach snapped, crying sweetly for her lover. She stood on her tiptoes, being supported by Sariel’s strong arms, her legs trembling as her body spasmed against his. 

Still moaning, Emma went lax in his arms, attempting to catch her breath. She whispered something, and Sariel pulled her close, tilting her chin towards him so that he could have a better view of her blushed, crying face. He stared at her, soft eyes encouraging her to speak up what she couldn’t earlier. 

“...only in front of you…I wear this type of outfit only in front of you.”

Sariel smiled, gazing lovingly at his sweet Emma. When he was sure that he couldn’t love her more, she always made sure to prove him wrong. 

He approached her face, kissing her pink lips tenderly. Emma closed her eyes, a contented expression on her pretty face. 

Only for her to fall on her knees, no longer supported by Sariel. 

She raised her eyes to him, half surprised, half indignant, only to still at the sound of his pants’ zipper opening up. Emma gulped, staring as Sariel pulled his hard shaft out of his pants, pumping it right in front of her face, staring malicious at her. 

“Your legs are shaking so much, of course you wouldn’t be able to stand on your own,” he mocked, touching himself without a hint of shame. 

He grabbed her chin, licking his lips at the sight of her startled, aroused expression. It made him glad, to know that she desired him as much as he desired her. 

Sariel smiled, pressing his member against her lips, a low, deep moan leaving his own pale lips at the delicious feeling of her wet mouthing taking him in. He threw his head back, a contented smile on his face as he started to thrust inside of her mouth, placing a hand the back of her head to make her still. 

Emma grasped his covered thighs, moans muffled by the movement of his cock between her lips, a dazed shadow in her hazelnut eyes. She tried to stare back at his face, but soon decided that closing her eyes was safer than staring directly against the eyes full of desire that looked right back at her, not missing a thing. 

Obviously, he noticed her embarrassment, taking even more pleasure in it. Sariel thrusted agitatedly against her throat, chuckling at the gagging sounds she produced. 

Sariel discovered that he was quite taken with this kind of sexual act only after he and Emma started being intimate, always taking pleasure in guiding her head to his like and to see her giving her all to satisfy him. 

Of course, Emma was a sweetheart. And today was no different, sucking his cock to the hilt while lustfully staring at nothing at all, too concentrated to care about anything other than licking, sucking and being fucked by Sariel. 

Finally, his hips stilled, pushing deep inside of her mouth, a deep, guttural sound coming from his throat, accompanied by one of his devilish smiles as he released his essence inside of her throat, a few drops dripping down her chin. 

Emma whined, patiently waiting for Sariel to stop rutting inside of her mouth, caressing his thighs with soft hands as he came down from his climax. 

Sariel petted her head, slowly pulling off his cock from her mouth. He watched as she gasped, finally able to breath without any obstacles, a soft smile on his face. 

Gently, he lifted her chin, caressing her lower lip with his thumb. She promptly understood, opening her pink, swollen lips to show him that she had swallowed all of his come. 

He smiled, caressing her tongue. 

“Good girl, my good girl.” 

Emma whined, averting her eyes from his. 

“Are you wet again?” He pressed on her tongue, pulling her face towards him again. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes,” she stuttered, rubbing her thighs against one another, trying to bring some relief to the aching between her legs. 

He hummed, a thoughtful look on his face as he glanced towards the clock at the other side of the room.

Emma felt his fingers leaving her chin, the sound of his zipper closing echoing through the room sharply. She stared back at him, both confused and disappointed at the lack of action. Then she glanced the same way he did, a loud gasp leaving her lips when she realized they were already late for an important meeting with the foreigner princes. 

No way they spent that much time doing…doing…

Emma hugged herself, suddenly feeling too exposed for her like. Closing her eyes tight, she felt a smooth cloth being placed on her shoulder, only to stare at the black dress she had been stressing about a few moments ago. She blinked, staring at Sariel. 

“You should wear this one, you always look stunning in it.” She blushed, hugging the fabric around herself, and Sariel smiled, walking towards his side of the wardrobe to finish getting ready himself. “And do not take your underwear. When the day is finished, we will continue from where we stopped,” he glanced at her over his shoulder, a dangerous look on his face. “Do you understand?” 

Emma nodded slowly, still trying to recompose herself. 

After quickly getting ready, Sariel walked towards the door, only to turn back and stroll back to her. With his gloved-hand lovingly caressing her soft kiss, he crouched in front of her and gently kissed her lips, watching as she closed her eyes and produced a pleased, sweet little sound. 

He parted from her, still stroking her cheek as he got up, and turned towards the door, not glancing back for a moment. Because, if he did, Sariel was sure that he would not be able to part from her. 

[lisalay00]

Secret Crush 6- Billy Hargrove

‘Billy?’

I tipped my toe to see beyond the window well to the living room. His dad was standing in front of the kitchen counter and back-facing towards me. Billy was directly looking at him with no expression face. I was pretty far away from the kitchen. I just hoped he came to the living room.

A couple of minutes later, Max appeared from the stairs handling her skateboard. I tried to straighten myself as high as possible at least she could see my fluffy hair.

Finally, she noticed me; her eyes widened in shock, and pointed to the backyard. My head got down on my screamed SOS feet. I took a deep breath and untied my hands from the window sill.

‘Hey!’ Max cheered in silence causing me to bounce off, and covered my mouth with my hands. She lightly chuckled at my freaked-out face, which literally made me reconsider my thoughts.

‘You scared me, god!’ I mumbled as landed my hand on my chest, not forgetting to check around. She shrugged her shoulder and took a quick gaze at my dress slowly her smile turned into a questioning one like I know the answer.

‘You are going somewhere?’ I rolled my eyes when she folded her arms as taking a rhythm with his foot.

‘Max, can you help me to talk Billy?’ I just wanted to cut to the chase because I know her, she was so ready for creating theories about why I came here at this hour.

‘As you see, His dad is pretty busy scolding him but if I find a time, promise!’ the way she crossed hands was fascinating, not more than his brother. Sometimes I think about how they look like each other, it’s intriguing to ponder how El and I share the same roots, yet we have such different sides on display. But if I were to bring up, even hypothetically, probably they would do anything to make me believe that is not true. It would take hours, or forever.

'El told me she's with Mike's basement and Lucas there too…' tried to convince her, she sometimes had annoying hard mood swings, though it would be taking something easier, nonetheless.

‘I don’t care about him.’ She shrugged her shoulder when my eyebrow arched in suspiciously. I had a couple of information about these teenagers' love life according to my sister but seems like the love triangle between Dustin-Lucas-Max were going somewhere.

‘Alright, I just wanted to say.’ I shrugged my shoulders before her lips could even part and were about to defend herself for death, but a shattered sound caused us both to flinch, Max stepped closer to me unconsciously and our eyes met momentarily. I could see the concern in her eyes. Summer was about to start but still, nights were pretty cold, I felt my arms getting cold showered in the tendency to spread my body.

Then the door opened and someone slammed it behind it. Max turned back to me and put me back like she wanted to protect me. Then Billy’s leather jacket went into my frame, I sighed in relief. I tapped Max's shoulder and pointed to the basement door.

‘You have to go now, don’t worry.’ I whispered, she nodded and hastily paced to the door before turning back to me.

‘Good luck to you too.’

I heard to door closed sound, raised my thumb to her, and rushed to his car. I saw his blonde hair drop on the wheel. He wasn’t moving.

Perhaps, I would do the stupidest thing, but anyway, I knocked on the glass and suddenly opened the door. I jumped on the seat when he frantically raised his head and shockingly widened his eyes and landed on me I smiled. I know how awkward the situation was. Moments later he sighed in relief and bounced back his head.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Are you okay?’

I literally screamed in the inch of the car. A chuckle escaped his mouth, forcefully.

‘fine as possible as it should be.’ He talked first. I hesitantly turned to my lap, I felt like it was freaking wrong time to ask a favor, but here I was sitting there and if I didn’t say it, he would get it. I huffed the thick air and turned his blue orbs that were lightened in curiosity.

‘I know it is not the right time but…’ I was literally selfish.

‘I need your help, tonight.’ I mumbled. I hate the words I said because it was quite out of the script I wrote on the road.

His eyes turned to the street for a moment wanting to distract himself from the thoughts or the situation I had no idea, but he slightly turned back to me.

‘I am yours tonight.’ He chuckled with a deep sigh and rubbed the back of his head, his hair softly moving on his shoulders, in the dim light brightened from its waves.

‘Can you come…umm… party with me, tonight?’

He frowned and slowly leaned forward to the wheel causing the fold to form on his brows, his naughty expression faded away, and the look of genuine concern replaced it. And of course, he was because we both know it was so a silly, dangerous idea. The air was getting thicker seems like for him too she swiped the window open. I took a deep breath from the fresh air as he broke the silence.

‘You are joking right?’ I shook my head reluctantly as his jaw clenched. His hands roughly landed on his hair, run through his fingers, and turned his body full towards me.

‘Billy we have to go there, I heard them. They have plans for me!’ I mumbled, widening my eyes to search a hope crumbling in his gaze, but literally a wall that I saw.

‘So, if they have what’s the point of going there, seriously?’ His tone was getting rough, leaned back to the seat and folded his arms.

‘I want you to come here with me because I don’t want to be alone when I break their plans on me.’ I harshly opened the door, and let the cold wind hit my face. I closed my eyes and turned to his shocking gaze.

‘I’ll go by myself, good night.’ I slammed the door, my pace falling uncontrolled with feverish anger. I continued to walk when I heard my name as the sound of his steps echoed on the empty street, I noticed Max on the window couple of steps away.

Distracted by the firm grip of his hands on my elbow, I turned to face him, only to find his pounding rough chest heaving from the short run. I lifted my chin to his darkened gaze, which was slightly opened. I attempted to jerk to swing his tightly grabbed on my arm, yet he just narrowed his eyes and pulled me closer.

‘You are coming with me.’ He bounced back slightly for another attempt to yank his grab, his eyes landed on the light in Max’s room.  He dragged me to his car.

‘I don’t need you Hargrove!’ he stopped when we reached his car again.  I looked at his well-built shoulders under his leather jacket and continued.

‘I can show who he is trying to mess with, by myself! I don’t need you!’ I yelled when he frantically turned to me, in a brief moment his finger landed on my lips. I bounced off in shock, avoiding it with a soft grim on my waist.

When the street lights blinked, he didn’t hesitate to turn there right exactly looking at my face.

‘Please be quiet.’ He closed his eyes slightly his hands and arms unwrapped my waist. I felt cold with the sudden absence.

‘Let's not waken crazy Neil here.’ I nodded my head when the light got back to normal. I watched him slowly open the car door and turned back to me.

‘Hop in!’ demanding to point to the door, slammed the door.

When he pressed the break suddenly, I leaned forward thanks to the seatbelt I bounced back to the seat.

‘Can you be a little slower!’ I mumbled, swirling to the side of him as he was already looking at me.  His one hand on his leg was tapping on his knee while it was shaking rapidly. He rummaged his pockets, sat up from the seat, and leaned forward to ease his job. When he felt the cigarette box in his pocket, he pulled it and sat back on the seat causing a small shaking in the car.

Only watched when he landed it between his lips, following the light and smoke, inhaling to cause more fume in the car. I waved my hand around to disperse.

He pointed to the crowd and music-filled house with his cigarette.

‘Are you sure to do this?’

‘Never better!’ I held the door he swiftly stopped me, contemplating the sentence.

‘Don’t fall apart me!’ He warned me when I rolled my eyes to turn back to the lump of teenagers group that went out of the house in the loudest way. I hopped out of the car and headed to the house, I could catch my steps. I felt his soft and warm hand on my hands, our shoulders hit one another.

I turned his encouraging smile as we went inside. colorful lights were dazzling and everyone was so drunk. I inhaled the alcohol-filled room relentlessly falling my steps forward, stepping on cans and cigarettes.

Joshua was sitting on the couch while scrunching his face at someone no other than Jason. He turned his head to the side when we got the girls' attention who were sitting in front of him. Their face slightly turned white color like sheets. He mumbled something, reluctantly putting a fake smile on his face.

‘Hey there!’ He cheered while the whole room right exactly watching us like waiting for fire. Billy’s hands were grabbed firmly on hand. His eyes were falling on our hands his eyes widened, and his head spun towards Jason whose jaws clenched sitting like a statue without moving, forcing him to look at our hands.

‘Here I am!’ I forced myself to smile. He pointed to the couch with his cup-filled hand.

‘What bout joining us?’ obviously a reluctant recommendation.

 Billy stepped front and stood in front of Joshua like a statue, his upright gesture stood like a shot across the bow.

‘Thanks, honey!’ he hit his shoulder harshly as swaying back. My eyes widened, looked at Billy’s curls that caused aired a couple of hair strands, couldn’t resist pulling towards me. He could stumble back, Surprisingly he had been caught off guard., but he quickly regained his footing. I intertwined our hands, not giving my attention to his gaze.

I pointed to the beer stand in the kitchen which caused all the cheap scent to spread around the room without waiting for his answer, and dragged him aside of the room.

He headed to the kitchen behind me in silence I sighed to find an empty place finally, and the beer stand might be distracted people from. Momentarily our hands parted, I lay on the counter, folded my arms on my chest gave him a questioning look, waiting for an answer.

‘Want me to start or you?’ I mumbled not forgetting to check the closed kitchen door. Shadows stumbled past in front of the door’s window, casting fleeting shadows, probably drunk partiers.

‘Ladies first.’ He opened his arms to the side rolling his eyes walked to the fridge.

‘We planned to just show off and that’s all probably they’d given up, you are creating a scene.’ He opened the fridge door and rummaged through it as the leather jacket moved joyfully from his shoulders. He landed two beer cans.

‘I am talking to you!’ I paced to his nonchalant figure, fully fixated on the can in his hand as he plugged the lit with one hand and took a large gulp.

I stood beside him; he vaguely nodded before flinging the can in my direction. I looked at the can in disbelief, in a brief moment it met with the ground.

‘I didn’t call you for drinking you stupid.’ I pushed him Couse his back to collide with the open fringe door that closing beneath his back. His eyes widened as I continued to walk, and raised my finger to his chest until it touched his.

‘You are so annoying, why don’t you listen to me and walk like a normal two people…’ He grabbed my shoulder, and frantically we relocated our position. Now I was the one trapped between the fridge and him.  As He took another sip of the beer, his Adam’s apple moved roughly, due to the intense flavor, later on throwing the can aside from the room, and a little beer was dripping from the corner of his lips due to the harsh drink.

He was looking at me without saying anything, his chest moving rapidly. Only our chests touched as his hands slowly landed on my shoulder.

‘Don’t look at me like that, please.’ He mumbled while caressing my shoulders softly. I trembled with the feeling on my bare skin. I shook my head, and attempt to walk passed his shoulder when he pressed his hands, my back bounced off the fridge demanding me to say something.

‘I told you to stay silent, I could handle it.’ When someone hit the door we both turned to the side, dragging me to the door beside the fridge. I hadn’t even noticed there was a door there. I found myself in the dark room. He pressed his finger on my lips and whispered shush.

Joshua's voice echoed in the kitchen he threw something to the counter soon other footsteps attached. Billy landed his hands on the wall leaner closer, and now his mint scent was dangerously closer. I inhaled the sharp aroma of his breath. My heart started pondering in my chest.

‘Dude I didn’t know she brought Hargrove, damn I had no idea they were dating!’ He cried out when the other one threw the glass that I thought was glass or something, following the shattered sound Joshua was thrown to the fridge, he groaned in pain as he spoke.

‘This little bitch played with you!’ He hysterically hissed. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision when I realized he was Jason. Billy hummed lightly his hand went down on my cheek and caressed reassuringly.

‘Find a way to bring her your room!’ He roared following another shattered sound. Billy leaned on my ear when Jason scolded him like a little kid.

‘Do you trust me?’ He whispered in my shell, I tried to hide the trembling feeling taking over the control. Do I trust him? Since my stupid game in front of the library and Do I still angry at him, hell yeah but I had to keep it for now. I nodded slowly, and then everything happened so fast. He grabbed my hips and took my feet off the ground.

‘Wrap your legs around me!’ I will probably regret the obedience, even for me it was so surprising, listening to him without question. He kicked the spice cabinet when the sound of footsteps stopped and got closer to us. The door slammed open when he smashed his lips on mine. His hands leisurely reached to the back of my head.

When he pulled back in need of breath our lips parted. I didn’t even care about the stares at us at that moment. It was so weird to say, differently.

I turned my head to the crowd that was already looking at us. I noticed the familiar hair and shocking gazes were looking at us.

As Billy's quick kiss landed on my cheek I turned, he was looking at me he didn’t even care about the moment or position we were in.

‘I guess we are in trouble.’

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧