#i feel like my pelvis could explode at any second

[lazzincats]

Save me Maria Renard

Maria Renard

Maria Renard... save me..

[leonsgfpost]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You take care of your pretty boyfriend after a long day at work!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: Leon!Needy, Doggy Style, Creampie, Overstimulate, RE2!Leon x Fem!Reader and more.

When he came home earlier than usual, you knew something was wrong. Out of place. His breathing was heavy, perhaps too tired for the day he'd had at the police station or his little fight with all those rows of paperwork. He was tired of dealing with motorist infraction work.

So, why not spoil your cute boyfriend a little?

First, you lovingly masturbated him while he massaged your breasts over your (his) shirt. Little low moans escaped his lips as you touched him from tip to base. Then, you rode him to his second orgasm and let his mouth latch onto your nipple.

And now, you were face down on the couch with your ass in the air and his shirt hanging lazily off your shoulders. Listening to his moans fanning against your ear, almost matching the wet sounds of your greedy pussy.

"Damn, wait for this all day-" He stammer senselessly, almost babbling from the way his sensitive cock desperately seeks his third orgasm. His hands stroking your sides in an attempt to cling to something, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

"Y-You always make me feel so good, baby..." He murmured, ever so cute. Like a puppy desperately seeking comfort from its owner. Maybe he wasn't so far from reality. And you had to hold back a laugh as you heard his voice shake, as if he was going to cry at any moment.

"It's okay, it feels good Lee..." You moaned softly, giving him those words of comfort he was looking for. You could feel his cock trembling inside your walls just from hearing your sweet voice.

"I know, I know. I-ah I feel like I'm losing my mind-!" He started babbling some more, gripping the armrest of the couch and his other hand grabbing one of your breasts. His hips began to stumble more and more, in a sloppy rhythm. His fingers roamed all over your abdomen in search of your clit, trying to make those quick circles you loved so much. His moans were louder than yours, his mouth open and his brows furrowed almost painfully at the sensitivity of his cock throbbing desperately inside the warmth of your pussy that wept down your thighs.

You stirred underneath him from the stimulation, trying to get away from his greedy hips. Your face was red, and your hair sticking to your skin damp with sweat.

"No, No baby... Please stay..." He said, panicking. Starting to push his chest against your back, trying to mobilize you against the couch. He closed his eyes, panting heavily as his pelvis slammed relentlessly against your ass. His lips ran down your cheeks, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your hot skin. It was too hot, but the exhaustion of his body was nothing compared to his desire to fill your pussy for the second time. He still had his white t-shirt wrinkled above his abdomen and his light blue uniform shirt open, hopefully he had taken off his pants.

That's how desperate he was.

"Ah, Shit, Shit." He groaned, burying his face in your hair and crushing you against the couch, feeling like he was about to explode again. His heart was beating fast, his lips open and his eyes closed tightly from the intensity bubbling at the tip of his cock.

His fingers increased the rhythm on your swollen clit, trying to make you feel good but his brain was completely fucked up to notice that he was already cumming.

"Oh god, god, holy shit-!" he moaned in a choked groan, thrusting his cock as deep as he could to completely fill your walls with his load.

He shuddered hard, hugging you and letting his balls empty in jagged spurts inside you. The room filled with his heavy breaths and your little moans as he continued to thrust you awkwardly with his hips. Until he lay motionless on top of you.

"Do you...do you want to ride me again? Please-?" He murmured, leaving trembling kisses on whatever expanse of skin he would find and his hand beginning to play with your breast lazily.

Your boy is a needy little thing.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hey! It's me again, I'm addicted to writing about Leon being so needy and wild ahg.

Special mention to @ilylovelyz for the comments and the idea, thanks again pookie 🫶🏻 💕

(💌) bye, bye !

[gojos-version]

Take it.

Pairings- Y/N x Satoru Gojo

Summary- Porn without the plot.

Warnings- Tummy bulge, breeding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it yall), mating press, doggy style, pet names (sweetheart, baby), praise, overstimulation

Word count- 1k

Proofread- ✅

A/n- Hi!! It's been a while since I last posted a fic :c I've been pretty busy, and I've had a lot going on so I couldn't sit down and write but things have been getting better so I can finally do what I love doing. Thank you all for your patience, as compensation I'll get out as much Fics as I can, so please feel free to drop any requests <3

⋆ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆

Satoru pins you to the bed, placing a harsh hand on your upper back. "Such a pretty girl." he Coos as his free hand thumbs your soaked slit. "Y-you know-" You're cut off when you feel his leaky tip at your puffed entrance making you freeze.

"Know what, hm?" He grins and slowly pushes his fat tip in making your walls spasm around him at the sudden intrusion. "Cmon baby, you look so delicious today let me give you a good fucking, yeah?", You blearily nod your head as he sinks his entire length into you.

Fuck. Fuck. Your tight warm walls squeeze the life out of his stupidly big dick, and he hisses in response. "Stop squeezing me baby, might finish too early." He grunts out and slowly starts thrusting his cock into your gooey hole. Shit, he can’t control the whimper that escapes his lips when his hard length sinks all the way into you to the hilt then pulls out to only sink back in till his pelvis goes flush against your hips.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of him now ramming his cock into you with pure need. Each thrust felt like he was trying to reach your lungs, like his cock was tearing your insides to mold and fit him and only him. Skin slapping against each other fills the entire room, a lewd Plap! Plap! Fills your head; your cunt squelching like something you'd see on shitty porn videos but fuck it was real. Your cunt was being so loud. Your body was tingling almost like it was on fire just spreading though each and every one of your veins.

With each thrust his leaky tip with precision would hit your g spot. That fucker had to be using his six eyes. "'Toru- Are you seriously u-using-hah- your s-six eyes-! hngh-!", “H-hah-! So, what if I’m using my six eyes- shit- it feels so good- fuck-!” He gasps out as his hands squish your ass cheeks, spreading them apart and watching as his dick bullies its way to kiss your cervix.

“Satoru- how’s that-! Isn’t it exhausting- fucking! Shit-!” Your walls flutter around him, squeezing the life out of him, “Heh- don’t care- can just use reverse curse technique.” He breathily gasps out. Fuck his body felt like it was going to explode any second, he could taste his release on his tongue threatening to come out at any second. Your walls clamp up and squeeze him so tight that he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Before Satoru knew it his dick explodes. White ropes fill you up, and when he comes, he comes so much. You shudder at the feeling of his cum breaching so deep inside of you, it felt like it could reach your throat from how deep inside of you he is.

Your body shakes from the orgasm that just got pulled out of you, your walls clamping and unclamping around his cock. Your insides tighten up when Satoru doesn’t slow down or stop after riding both of your orgasms out like usual. You cry out into the pillow as he fucks his cock into you speeding his pace up faster than before, your cunt- overly sensitive from your previous release- has your back arching and your hands curling into fists clamping the sheets below you till your knuckles went white.

"N-no-! S-slow doohhwwnnn!!" You scream out and he laughs when you pathetically reach a hand behind you and try to push his hips back- a failed attempt to stop him. He grabs your wrists with both of his hands; while not slowing down his harsh thrusts, he pins them behind your back and all you can do is lay there and take it. "Take it. Fucking take it." he moans out, his head falling back in pure pleasure.

Your eyes roll back, and your body feels hot. Too hot. The more pressure he used to pin your arms behind your back pushed your stomach deeper into the mattress causing it to put pressure on the lewd bulge in your stomach. Fuck right now you could incinerate. You sob out of pleasure into the pillow and cry out Satoru's name. “Shh baby, ‘ts okay... yeah... that’s it, sweetheart”, He coos out knowing full well on what he’s doing.

You let out a string of muffled moans as your hips try to meet his, following his thrusts while you weakly whimper into the sheets. "Thats it...such a good girl f'me, aren't you? Atta girl...that's it..." And before you know it, he pushes the weight of his body on top of yours, his chest and abdomen flush against your back, his hands release your wrists to just pin your wrists against your back with his chest.

One of his free hands grab your tit and the other mushes your face together and pushes your head up so he could see you. "My pretty girl..." He whimpers out and he peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw. "Mpphhff! Hnnghh!" Your muffled whines were music to Satoru's ears. "Hah- yeah..f-fuck 'm close..." His cock felt like it was in heaven, your gooey, warm, wet walls just milking him already had his toes curling and thighs tensing.

The both of you didn't notice it yet but, the lamp the both of you had on flickered and frankly so did all of Japan's lights. The hand fondling your tit moved down to your clit as he rubbed and pinched harsh circles making your stomach clench and your thighs tense in response.

"So- ah-rough-!" You managed to babble out, "Quit your complain'. You'll take it f'me won't you, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, yeah?", That's the last thing you hear before your vision turns white and your body shakes; your body on fire while you squirt all over Satoru's cock and pelvis, your release dripping down both of your thighs and onto the sheets below.

You feel Satoru's own release flooding your insides as your walls pulse around him. When you finish coming down from your high you notice the rooms pitch black and..well..when Satoru opened his eyes he laughed. "Hah- looks like the powers out again...'ts okay we've got my eyes, baby." He chuckles out and sits up, flipping you over onto your back and he pushes your thighs to your chest and slips back inside of you making you gasp in response.

"H-hah- We're goin' all night baby. Take it, yeah?" You both weren't making it out alive tonight.

✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆

Masterlist<3

Tags!

@my-own-au-my-way

[shhhsecretsideblog]

You have to go see your professional athlete husband play in the championship game: only problem is you're 42 weeks pregnant. You've been having contractions all day, but you tell yourself they're just Braxton Hicks, and you can go to the hospital after the game and have the baby. But once the game starts you can't ignore the urge to push any longer...

Great prompt! Exactly what I was in the mood to write this evening, ty! Hope you like it (fyi written in an hour and very much not edited or checked or read-through lol)

Half-Time Full-Time Baby-Time

Despite being overdue, suffering practice contractions all day, and having a baby nestled deep in my pelvis - I was not going to miss the big game. I’d never missed any of my husband’s matches and I wasn’t going to start now.

Thankfully, as my hubby was a star player on the team I was watching the game from the Executive Box. My parents were supposed to have joined me but they couldn’t make it, so I was on my own in the luxury private suite that had a large window and a glass door overlooking all the action on the pitch below. Inside the room was a fancy dining table with chairs, a mini bar, and a few high stools beneath the tall bench table lining the window so people could sit and drink and eat while watching the game.

Unfortunately I wasn’t able to do any of those things. My tight and round belly and the pain flaring in my hips had me pacing around and around the room. Cupping the underside of my bump I breathed deeply through each rising wave.

“Hmmmmm… not now baby, please.” I whimpered.

The practice pains had gotten closer and closer together during the first half. I’d tried to ignore them, breathe through them and walk around to stop the braxton hicks, but they didn’t disappear. They only got worse. Just before the whistle blew at half time my waters broke and I was forced into the realisation this was no false alarm.

But it would be fine; labour took hours and hours and the game would be long finished before we would need to go to the hospital. That’s what I thought.

Midway through the second half I’m standing by the window, my hands clasping the high bench in a white-knuckle grip, my hips swaying side to side. My throat rattles as I release involuntary groans with the constant squeezing and tightening of my belly. The baby felt so damn low… my legs were in a wide stance and my belly hung down off my hips. I was glad to be wearing a lightweight summer dress with the amount I was sweating. I wanted to open the door, to let in a breeze, but I was scared to with the labouring sounds I was emitting. I didn’t want to attract attention and I did not want to go anywhere and miss the game. I would stay here until you were finished and then we would go to the hospital together.

Another contraction rolled across my belly and the pressure built and built towards boiling point. It felt like I was going to explode, to burst, that feeling of fullness paired with an urgency and pressure was becoming too much to handle. My legs started to tremble as I fought against my body’s instincts, a low rumbling roar slipping past my lips.

I leant forward over the tall tabletop, my arms folded on its surface and my head dropped against my arms. My legs were buckling, sinking lower into a squat. The pressure was building, the round and heavy bowling ball of a head was so low… I wanted to push— my body needed me to push—

“Noooo…. Oh god! Don’t- hoooo- don’t push. Just stay in there baby…. Wait for your daddy to f-finish the g-game—mnghhhhhh!!!”

There was no controlling it, the head was getting lower and pressing against my opening. My body was pushing and I couldn’t stop it. More amniotic fluid hit the floor as I pushed, my bare feet standing on the damp carpet.

In between uncontrollable pushes I glanced up desperately and looked at the timer hanging over the pitch. There was still 15minutes to go, plus injury time. Oh god, the baby was not going to last that long. It felt like it was already starting to crown.

With a trembling hand I feel under my dress between my thighs and nearly vomit when I feel the curved surface of the head pressing against my underwear.

“Oh baby, no… you can’t come out yet…”

But my body and mind are not in sync and a second later I’m back to uncontrollably pushing. I sink into a deep squat, my arms stretched high above my head as I cling onto and almost swing from the high rise table.

“Nnnmghhhhh!!!!” I grunt and low, bearing down into my bottom, running completely on instinct. The baby was slipping further and further out, my labia was stretched thin and the burning of a full crown made me howl.

At the same time one of the teams had scored and the stadium erupted with a frenzy of screams and cheers. The crowd’s jubilance was my own encouragement and I gasped a breath and pushed again, hard. My body was shaking head to toe, the burning… the fullness… the desperation for it all to stop… I had to get the baby out, and it had to come out right now. Giving it my all the head popped out dramatically into my underwear and I collapsed down onto all fours.

The game was nearly over and the baby was almost here. I scrambled to pull down my panties before the next contraction hit. I could hear the noises in the stadium, the crowd cheering and chanting, the final minutes being played. Meanwhile the baby was turning inside of me, the shoulders beginning to press and stretch me open once more. When the next contraction hit I submitted to it entirely, rocking forward and back with each push as my body worked hard to birth the babe. I roared and pushed with the final whistle of the match and raised up on my knees, my hands flying between my legs to catch my newborn baby.

“Oh my goodness… hi little one.” I sobbed as I brought the child up to my chest, wiping its face and blowing gently against their cheeks. The newborn gave a cough and started crying and relief and exhaustion took hold. That was when I noticed the crowd around the Exec Box was cheering. I crawled to the door, babe in arms, and awkwardly got back to standing.

Looking out across the pitch I could see my husband’s team had won, all the men jumping and hugging each other. I could spot my husband easily amongst the sea of coloured jerseys.

“That’s your daddy.” I said to the baby.

My husband looked up at the box, knowing where I’d be, and his jaw dropped when he saw me standing at the glass door, a newborn baby wailing in my arms.

[evvyyypeters-fics]

“One just isn’t enough”

Kit Walker x f!reader

Warnings! Smut, Porn w/ zero plot, rough sex, (HEAVY) breeding k!nk, overstimulation, 100% not proofread, short drabble/ imagine

This idea popped in my head and I needed to write it immediately. Yes, I am working on the other fics. Here’s a snack in the meantime.

Knawing on my prison bars rn I need him so bad

I can barely keep my mouth closed from the intense heaving pants leaving my lips, harmonized with effortless moans.

Kit’s hips slam harshley into me, skin slapping shamelessly as he pins me deep into the mattress as hard as he can in some sort of primal way. My legs hooked over his shoulders as his hands grip the bed at the sides of my face. Folding me and squishing me down into the bed.

I can feel the blown look of my gaze watching his, his expression clouded with this carnal lust, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Fuck, I’mgonna ge’ you so pregnant, suga’” He groans loudly, the words spilling from his lips as he ruts into me desperately, his tip ruthlessly slamming into that spongespot that makes my whole body shiver. His pelvis brushing against my swollen clit.

“You’re gonna look so pre’tty.” He babbles on, his brows furrowing. He moans shamelessly, his cock pulsating as he gets closer.

“Kit—!” I whine desperately, the words stumblibg past my lips wantonly.

“I know, suga’. I know.” He coos, swiping a comforting hand on the side of my face for a moment before steadying back into the mattress as he picke up again.

I can feel my second orgasm coming, and before I can get out a single whine, my thighs practically vibrate, exploding with come. Kit feels the intense vibrating, my moan choking out after as my face furrows and I dig the back of my head into the mattress, gritting my teeth.

The sight sends him into overdrive and he presses himself further flush against me, nipping at my ear after raising my gaze and slamming his hips as deep as he could go, bullying my cervix. A string of sweet moans and whimpers fall from his lips.

“Gon’na make you a pretty baby, jus’ for you mama,” He groans for a final time in my ear, his sexy boston accent thick. My mind is completely blank, overstimulated to the moon and back. To my relief, he had already begun to falter before completely botting out and going still. Pumping his seed thick and deep, he pants, still holding me down for a few more moments.

I couldn’t tell if he did it to baste me like a turkey or if he was truly tired. Maybe both. But I didn’t care, I just hoped it would be more than enough to have another kid with him, and the tender kiss he placed on my nose after—showering me in affection—made up for the brutal fucking that was sure to leave me swollen for the next few days. More the next 9 like months.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒊𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 - hyunjin x reader x felix au fanfic

DISCLAIMER: the following dark, explicit, mature content includes mentions and depictions of emotionally intense themes such as !!TW!! grief, sex, loss, mental illness and addiction. If you're particularly sensitive to any of the mentioned above and more, please refrain from continuing on.

This is a work of fiction, Hyunjin, Felix and any other characters are meant to serve as name holders for fictional and entirely constructed personae that are not meant to reflect any real or factual personality trait or event that might occur.

PROLOGUE

0 - I love the way you're screaming my name

Little half moon shaped imprints scatter like a constellation on your reddened hips, your thighs don't even ache anymore, muscles almost fully numb with how much they're used to the strain. He shakes his head briefly to the side, white blond wisps sticky wet with sweat, they barely flop, barely blow away from his slick face, he sinks his nails into your flesh, sinks himself into you so deep your eyes roll to the back of your head.

There's a little orchestral concert happening in your lower abdomen, a crescendo of violins gritting and tilting and kettledrums beating to the same low drum that grows louder and louder, pressure building up faster and faster. Deep, throaty growls rolling off Felix's mouth guiding the thunder that's about to explode, your own breathy moans echoing along as if you alone were the entire choir.

He hoists your legs higher up around his neck, angling his pelvis in a straight angle, right to your core, a mighty final push that has your hands flying to his arms, clamping his wrists so tight his pale purple veins bulge underneath your fingertips, he hisses, wether it's from the pain or the pleasure you don't know, dark eyes looking wilder and wilder by the second, pupils dilating to the impossible until he's gritting his teeth, rutting against your hips.

The concert is about to end on a grand finale, your hips buckle, he groans and thrust his throbbing length in for the final time, he has you spasming and thrashing in no time, "ah ah aaahh hy-aah AHH HYU-FUCK AHH".

The roaring applause never comes, but the blinding, white hot wave of pleasure washes over you nonetheless, your whole body ablaze, his warm load coating your insides, ecstasy pouring down on you from the inside out.

Felix breaths erratically, trying to fill up his exhausted lungs, he huffs and puffs, looking at your fucked out state with a frown on his face. You're not even looking at him, you never do. He spent himself three times already, but you won't even look at him after he gave you three mind blowing orgasm in a row.

To be honest he doesn't even need you to look at him, you could keep your eyes shut while you kiss him, he wouldn't mind. But you don't. You help him off of you and you clean up and then quickly turn to the side, your back facing him. He hates it but doesn't say anything, he collects the towels and his discarded clothes and silently makes his way to the shower.

You don't mull over it anymore. You know it's coming either way. Your eyes twitch a little, irises moving sideways in fast motion until their inner vision focuses on his hounched figure once again: "three orgasms in a row, our boy Felix is treating you well, so well... You could have a been a little nicer to him today", he teases, a mischievous smile gracing his lips.

Rolling your eyes, you plop down next to him, composed but tired, your limbs slowly regaining feel: "stop that, you make it sound like I'm a mean fucking person, and I'm not", Hyunjin drapes an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to him, eyes narrowing into two slits as he stares at you, "you were almost calling him Hyunjin again, It's the second time you slipped this week already".

He smells exactly the same everytime, chrysanthemums and grass, blackberry and soil, his breath warm, his voice soft and low, his lips impossibly plump, naturally red and tender as they brush on your temple, "you should be flattered", you mutter, melting quietly on his side.

"I am. I know I shouldn't for poor Felix's sake, but I am. I love it when you go batshit insane over some good pounding, I just wish it was still me making you cry out like that".

He sighs against your forehead, the phantom of a kiss depositing on your scalp,"I am so selfish,so greedy, my love".

Chapter 1

[warcrimecryptid]

Journal #1

I have anxiety. I am terrified of natural disasters. Realistically speaking, I am in the best possible place for small natural disasters, but that does not help.

I live in the Appalachian mountains. The only things I should be worried about are mudslides and cryptids. But alas, my anxiety does not care.

A couple of years ago, maybe two or three years ago, I was up until 4:00 am (I had to be at work at 8:00 am) because I was thinking about natural disasters.

I originally started because I was thinking about tornadoes. I started to get worried, but I talked myself down. There are tornadoes (occasionally) where I live, but they’re usually so small that they don’t do anything. I started to drift off.

Then I started thinking about earthquakes. I was even more worried, but I calmed myself down. There are earthquakes where I live, but they’re so rare and small that 9/10 times, no one even knows that they happened. I started to go to sleep.

And then I started thinking about tsunamis. There was no calming myself down. I don’t know why, but tsunamis scare me the most (aside from sinkholes). I sat and I stewed and I worried. For a very long time, I could not watch any movies that had anything to do with tsunamis, rogue waves, tidal waves, etc. because they would send me spiraling to the point of hyperventilation and catatonia. So, I did what any anxiety ridden person does best and I got my laptop out and started researching tsunamis. How fast the water is, what it feels like when it hits you, what injuries you might incur outside of drowning, how long it takes to drown, what drowning feels like, what your chances of survival are, what things might affect your survival rate, etc.

The tsunami research alone was a two hour endeavor. It is now 12:00 at this point.

Then I worried about airplanes. I don’t like heights, but I may have to fly one day and I was panicking. What happens if my plane goes down? Will I die quickly? There’s no way I could survive that, right?

WRONG!

Vesna Vulović was a flight attendant on the JAT Yugoslav Airlines Flight 367 on the 26th of January, 1972. The flight took the aircraft over Czechoslovakia, where the plane exploded into three pieces. The explosion and crash killed everyone on board, except Vesna, who survived a fall of 10,160 meters or 6.31 miles. Evidently, the only thing that saved her was the fact that she was pinned down by a food cart in the tail end of the fuselage. Also, it was determined that her low blood pressure that was caused when the plane rapidly depressurized prevented her heart from bursting upon impact. She suffered a fractured skull, two broken legs, three broken vertebrae, a fractured pelvis, several broken ribs, temporary paralysis below the waist, and she was in a coma for several days. She died in 2016 from natural causes. Natural fucking causes!!!

She survived that! And Juliane Koepcke fell 3,000 meters (approximately 1.9 miles) into the Peruvian rainforest where she was lost for 11 days, but she survived.

This ⬇️ is a graph for the highest falls people have survived without a parachute. How am I supposed to compete with that? What is their secret?

So then I was up thinking about that. If I was sucked out of a plane, what should I do to increase my chances of survival? That was another 2 hours and it was now 2:00 am.

And then I looked up whether or not someone has survived jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge into the water. Surely not? People say that jumping into water is one of the worst things you can do because it’s so dense that it’s like smacking onto concrete. No one would survive, right?

WRONG AGAIN!!!

Kevin Hines jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge in September of 2000. He fell 240 feet in 4 seconds. He had crushed spinal vertebrae and a broken ankle.

The Golden Gate Bridge was built in January of 1933, and from 1937, approximately 1,800 people have committed suicide by jumping off the bridge. Kevin Hines is one of ONLY 35 PEOPLE WHO HAVE SURVIVED!!!

And the Golden Gate Bridge rathole took us to 4:00 am.

My mom drove me to work that morning. My dad had taken the last of the cigarettes, so she hadn’t had one. I tried to be nice and say “how did you sleep”, and when she answered “not well” I said “neither did I”.

She asked why, so I went on to tell her what I have told all of you up here and Oh. My. God.

She exploded. “Why are you worried about planes when you won’t even get on one?” “Why are you worried about (insert all three natural disasters here) when we don’t even live where they occur?” I shrunk into the car seat and tried to be quiet. I hadn’t even gotten to the part about the Golden Gate Bridge yet, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

My mom stopped at the gas station, bought a pack of cigarettes, and chain-smoked 2 before she got back in the car. When she got back in, she hit me with a “I am very sorry. I know that’s not how anxiety works. Was there anything else?” At this point, she didn’t appear to be sniffing at the air like a predator, so figured it was semi safe and I told her about Kevin Hines and the Golden Gate Bridge.

When she dropped me off at work she said “I’m going to talk to your doctor when I get into the office (she’s a nurse at the doctors office). We’re getting you on medication today. You’re a mess. End of story.”

And that’s how I started Zoloft.

[farfromstrange]

Ease The Pain | Matt Murdock x Reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Summary: Matt helps to ease your period pains.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), vaginal fingering, description of blood and period pain, use of "Good girl", hurt/comfort, praise kink

Word count: ≈ 3.1k

a/n: I love how Tumblr just keeps not showing my works in the tags so I have to post them again. Fun. Anyway! My period pains are the fucking worst. I hate my life. If men like him were real I'd sure feel a lot better. Anyway, I wrote this in like an hour or so because I'm that desperate. Hope you enjoy!

Pain. 

That’s all you can feel in every inch of your body. The core of that pain lies in your lower stomach and back, but it has already spread to your head and the rest of your muscles, even your legs, and feet. 

It’s Saturday, and you should be up and enjoying your free time but instead, you’re bound to the bed while the worst cramps of your existence ripple through your uterus as it brutally sheds its lining just because you chose not to get pregnant again this month. 

Every position you try feels only comfortable for a split second before another surge of pain appears somewhere in your body, mostly your stomach, but every time a cramp hits, your head seems to explode too, and shifting is futile. 

You’ve tried everything you could think of. Painkillers, heat, curling up into a fetal position, standing up, sitting down, you even took a hot shower, but none of it managed to take the pain away for more than a minute or two. So you have accepted defeat, realizing you don’t stand a chance against the monster that is mother nature. You decide to suffer in silence until the cramps ease up, which could take another day or two. 

Every once in a while, your eyes flutter close and you find yourself blinking back to life a few minutes later disoriented and almost shaking from the pain. Another wave of cramps tears through your body, keeping you wide awake as you roll onto your side and pull your legs up to your chest. 

The door to the bedroom opens and it creaks, which makes you grind your teeth. You feel the sudden urge to tear the glass apart, nerves thin from exhaustion, and the noise only adds to your pain.

“Sweetheart,” Matt’s voice is gentle from where he’s standing against the door frame. 

You bury your face in your pillow. “Go away!” you groan. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he says. 

“You’re right, I’m not, but there’s nothing you can do about it. I just hate my fucking body right now and it hates me.”

“Well, at least you’re not pregnant.”

You lift your head to glare at his stupidly attractive person. He’s not wearing a shirt, that bastard, and his grey sweatpants are hanging dangerously low on his hips. 

He ducks when you toss a pillow at his head. “Fuck off!”

He wants to laugh, but the sound of your pained moan into the pillow has him sprinting toward you. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. If it’s that bad, maybe you should take some more Advil.”

He strokes over your upper arms, pulls the hair out of your face, and presses feather-light kisses to your shoulder blade, which feel soothing at first, but the cramps ruin it for you once again. You’re forced to switch positions, curling up on the other side of the bed. 

Matt follows, sitting up against the headboard on his - previously your - side of the bed.

“I’ve already taken the full dose today,” you tell him. “If I take any more, I’m gonna have more problems than my fucking uterus stabbing me to death. Ugh!”

You hate this. You’re in pain, exhausted, and bleeding so badly, you’re sure you’re going to have to go to the bathroom soon. Every last contraction of your uterus has you cursing Eve for eating that stupid apple. 

His hand moves from your arm to your lower back. Gently forcing you onto your stomach, he starts digging his fingers into the sore muscles of your pelvis. You sigh. Now that is something you haven’t tried yet, too embarrassed to ask him for help with something like this, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You keen into his touch, letting him loosen your muscles one by one. The cramps continue in the front, but the tension in your back finally releases and gives you a second to breathe. 

“You need anything?” he asks, leaning over to nuzzle his face into your neck. “Tea, maybe? More pillows? Or do you want me to run you a bath?”

Sleep threatens to take over. “No,” you slur. His hands are working wonders and you start to question how you even deserve him. “Keep going. Feels good.”

Your approval is all he needs to knead firmer at the flesh protecting the bone of your pelvis. You melt into the mattress. His lips move back to your shoulder, leaving messy kisses over your heated skin.

“Ow, fuck!” The next sharp cramp directs itself toward your entire front, tearing your abdomen apart. “Why does this keep happening?” you cry. “I hate this!”

You’ve been suffering from periods for so long, you should have gotten used to it, but every month feels different, and sometimes worse.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says. “I wish I could help you.”

“Yeah, but you can’t. Too bad!”

That was rude.

You whimper a small apology into your pillow.

“It’s okay, I know you’re in pain. If it helps to yell at me, go right ahead.”

You want to laugh, but you’re too worn out to make any other sound than pained puffs of air from deep within your chest.

Another harsh cramp has him moving his arm around your body, his hand continuing the massage on your stomach now, and you can’t help it; The pressure offers sweet, sweet relief for the pain that has kept you on edge for the past eight hours and his touch sets every fiber of your being on fire. You push your hips back, wanting him to push his fingers deeper into the flesh. In response, his other arm comes to rest around your shoulders from the front, and he pulls you flush against him. 

In his attempt to make you more comfortable though, he accidentally brushes over your sensitive nipples, and you moan, so oversensitive from the hormone outburst, it hurts. 

He “accidentally” does it again, just to test a theory, and when you moan again, louder and higher this time, Matt realizes he just opened Pandora's box. You wouldn’t have asked him to even if it killed you, which it might, and he read somewhere that orgasms produce enough oxytocin to help with period cramps. He knows you don’t care much about studies, but he can’t deny that there is something plausible about this theory. Most importantly though, he just wants to help you. Hearing how much pain you are in hurts him, and he wants to stop your suffering in whatever way he can. 

“I have an idea,” he breathes into your ear, fingers moving lower until he reaches the hem of your sleep shorts that you haven’t bothered taking off. “Do you trust me?”

Goosebumps erupt on your skin. He keeps sending electrical shocks down your spine with his touch alone and no matter how hard you try to refuse yourself such a lucrative treat, your body has a mind of its own during this particular time of the month. Even though you’re in pain, the arousal is only a foot away. 

He pulls at the waistband when you don’t answer, letting it slap against your skin. It’s not painful, but you can feel the burn spread from your stomach straight to your core.

“But-” you try to interject. 

He won’t let you. “Do you trust me, angel?” he asks. 

“Always,” you say without hesitation. 

“Then let me help you.”

You’ve never done this before. You’ve never let him touch you during your period before, ever, not since you got together. You’ve always felt far from sexy, bloated and bleeding, and moody most of the time, if you’re not uncontrollably eating whatever you’re craving before puking from the pain, but you can’t help the whimper that passes your lips this time when a certain gush of wetness that isn’t blood starts coating the walls of your cunt. 

He’s shirtless and so incredibly hot, he looks almost biteable. His muscles flex, you can see every last dent in his bicep, and it grows seemingly two sizes every time he moves his hand to touch you. 

The way he’s almost choking you with his elbow has you clenching around nothing. And it hurts because God, you’ve never been this sensitive, not even after several rounds of sex with him, but you don’t care. Your clit pulsates and it rubs against whatever fabric is closest. The friction is bittersweet. You try to move your hips to feel the same jolt of electricity again, to get rid of the pressure resting between the sore folds of your cunt, but you can’t seem to find relief.

Matt grows confident in his actions and starts to cup your breast ever so slightly. You gasp, tears shooting into your eyes. Your brain is fuzzy. Your body tingles. Your nipples get hard the second he brushes them, and the more he squeezes, the harder they seem to get. Your skin flashes hot. You’re not sure what feels better – the hand on your stomach or the one on your breast. 

“Do you want to stay like this or can you sit up against the headboard for me?” you hear him ask. 

In your state, you can either nod or shake your head, and you’re not sure which one is the better option. The curled-up position is the only one you can feel comfortable in, but if you don’t sit up, he can barely touch you. It’s a desperate situation and you’re so overwhelmed, you want to cry — but it’s not a question of wanting anymore, you need to cry because your body is a bundle of hormones and your mind isn’t yours to command. 

He tilts your head toward him to kiss you. “It’s okay,” he whispers, “I’ve got you.”

You whimper again, tasting the coffee on his lips. 

Slowly, the hand that once rested on your stomach inches lower and lower and lower until… you throw your head back into the crook of his neck and he tightens his grip to make sure you don’t slip away. 

The moment he presses his calloused fingers to your clit, your vision explodes. You try to spread your legs while at the same time scratching at his arms and pulling at the dark hairs that adorn them. Your muscles are too sore to throw your leg over his hip, a familiar position from the many lazy mornings spent drowning in each other, and you can’t seem to find another way to get his hand closer either. He’s already cupping your pussy with his entire hand, drawing circles on your clit, and with how swollen it is you jolt with every stroke, but it’s still not enough. You need more space. 

“Wait,” you say. “I need… can you…”

The systems in your head completely shut down. 

He reads your mind. His hand slips away, pulling you up with him against the headboard. Instead of forcing you to sit up though, he places you over his lap, a pillow under your stomach, and your legs spread over his thighs. The slight bow in your back from the positioning of his knee works better than any position you could have thought of. 

“Better?” he asks.

You spread your legs wider. There’s enough space now, you can move freely and still roll over if you need to, and the sheets can easily muffle your moans.

“Sweetheart, talk to me,” he strokes a hand over your exposed ass cheeks, “are you okay?” 

You don’t want to imagine the mess you’re making, lying naked over his lap while actively bleeding out of the very folds he’s touching with his skilled fingers now. You’re wet enough for him to slide across them, returning to your clit. 

“Just touch me,” you whine. “Please, Matthew, just touch me.”

And for the love of God, you think, don’t think about the sheets. 

“Anything you want, baby. This is about you,” he says and finally, God finally, he gets to work.

There has to be something he takes to make his fingers feel so amazing every time he touches you. He never fails to amaze you with his skills. The fingers he uses as fists more often than not to beat criminals senselessly only do good for you. They comfort you and bring you pleasure where and whenever you need it most. He would never hurt you, especially not with his hands.

You cry out when he picks up the pace. “Matt,” his name is only but a breath on your lips, “Your fingers…”

“What about them?”

“I need them,” you say.

His thumb stays on your clit while he circles your entrance with his ring and index finger, pushing in only slightly and you hiss, as he expected, from the soreness of your walls.

“Fuck!”

“Relax,” he tells you. 

He moves his fingers deeper, slipping right in, the wetness and heat of you engulfing and hugging him like you were made to take him. He sighs and curls his fingers inside, finding your g-spot with ease. He knows exactly where to press to have you crying out in ecstasy, and you have to bite down on the sheets to keep yourself from screaming. 

Pain is the last thing you can think about. All you feel is the burning pleasure in your core, the electricity that spreads through your cunt like an explosion and rests in your lower stomach as the biggest knot you’ve ever felt, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel the pressure that has your legs shaking as it waits to be released.

All the while Matt keeps massaging your back with his other hand, matching the circles he draws on your clit and the thrusts of the two fingers that he has shoved deep inside of you. With every painting he draws, you inch closer to the edge of release. It’s only moments away, you can feel it. 

The sounds you’re making are incoherent, muffled through the sheets, but he can tell from the way you’re bucking into his hand that you’re closer than ever. 

“You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart,” he’s purring the gentlest of praises into your ear, “You’re such a good girl, letting me take care of you. You deserve it. You deserve to feel good.”

You moan, reach for his shoulder, and cling to his skin for dear life. Your legs start to shake around his hand, locking him in place. You’re thrashing around wildly, not letting him finger you but rather riding him in a way that has you coming faster than you thought possible. 

Matt only chuckles. “That’s it, take what you need. You can come whenever you need to,” he says. “And I know you need to, baby, so do it. Let go for me and come.”

“Oh, fuck, Matthew!”

Your walls spasm around his fingers as you come apart. You’re crying, moaning, possibly even screaming and you clench so hard around his fingers, you’re scared you might break them.

His tongue is silver, trained, and too damn good at articulating words that drag out your orgasm to the point it hurts, especially now. “That’s it. Let it out. I’ve got you.”

It wouldn’t stop. You’re wasted, exhausted, and spent, but you can’t stop from pulsating heavily around him. 

Only when the pleasure turns into an uncomfortable soreness does the wave of the orgasm start to ease back into the ocean. 

Your clit is aching, swollen, and wet from how coated his fingers are, and you can already feel the wetness trickling down your thigh. The blood, you think. It’s not just arousal or your cum, you’re sure of that. 

The bed probably looks like a crime scene now. You have to change the sheets. Not even as you’re crying, quivering from the intense orgasm, you can help the shame from swallowing you whole. He can’t see it but he can smell the copper. It has to be more than uncomfortable.

You whimper when you finally come down from your high, still holding onto his arm.

“The sheets,” you manage to choke out. “Matt, I’m so sorry…”

He shushes you. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t not worry about it. I just bled all over your sheets.” 

He helps you sit up and into his lap where he holds you close to his chest.

“It’s just blood, baby,” he reminds you with a gentle kiss on your lips. “I don’t care. It’s natural. Besides, have you ever seen me not covered in blood?”

The crinkle in his eyes is playful and you manage to laugh softly.

“Hm?”

“No, I guess not,” you say. “But still…”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.”

Your head drops to his shoulder. “I love you.” There are a million other things you want to say, but for now, those have to be enough. 

The pain is gone, finally, and you can breathe again without getting an excruciating headache. He hugs you tight to him, stroking your hair and kissing your scalp to make sure you’re okay, that you know you’re safe and that he wouldn’t go anywhere. He’s with you, until the end of the line.

“C’mon.” He manages to tear himself away from you eventually. “Let’s take a shower, yeah?”

You pout, feeling his dick more than hard in his sweatpants underneath you. “What about you?” you ask.

Matt shrugs, pulling you in for another kiss. “I’ll take care of that.”

“We can-���

“No,” he cuts you off with a finger to your very tired lips, “You’re too sensitive for that. Let’s wait another day and then we can think about it, okay? I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you already are.” 

Thanks to your hormones, his considerate nature has you crying like a baby in seconds.

He is confused at first, touching your contorted features in worry before he reminds himself that it’s normal. You’re more emotional than usual, but it’s okay because your body is doing unspeakable things that no man could ever understand, and you’re going to feel better soon enough. The world just sucks for now, then maybe again in the next twenty minutes if you happen to come across the picture of a very cute dog or watch one of your comfort movies, but you’re going to be fine. 

So instead of making fun of you for something you can’t control, which he never would but he knows that some of the men in your life have and it scarred you for life, he holds you to his chest and tells you, “You’re going to be okay.” And he keeps telling you this until you manage to stop crying and are smiling again, thankful and so in love, you forget how fucking awful you feel for just a second. 

It wouldn’t take long for the pain to reappear, but until then you could enjoy the relief in the arms of the man you love.

Having Matt Murdock by your side is much better than painkillers, and much more effective, too.  

And as you lie there on his lap, his arms around you and his lips on yours, you can’t help but keep wondering,

How did I get so lucky? 

[birthedstars]

Continuation of M.I.E with 3 different kinds of women. Infertile women who wants a child so badly, School teacher leading a lesson on childbirth and a lady whose just had a homebirth a few hours prior.

M.I.E Part 3

Part1 | Part2 

Cause of The M.I.E: Leon Johnson 

3 Days After the initial Incident. 

Leon sat stiffly in his room. The cries of four babies echoed from the upstairs bedroom. His mother had given birth to triplets and his sister had suffered with one big baby. 

His parents were strangely silent toward him when they arrived home from their own ordeal. Leon chalked it up to the M.I.E, but something still felt off. 

Alexa was quiet too, but it was clear she was still dealing with the shock of suddenly and violently becoming a mother. She put up more of a strong front though 

Leon turned on the TV. Most news channels were running special interviews and investigations on the people affected by the M.I.E. There was a whole hour long interview with a pilot who had given birth while trying to land a jumbo jet full of birthing and laboring people. It was pretty exciting and scary to hear about. But Leon always felt oddly fascinated by them. Proud in a way. He couldn't explain it. 

Incident No. 5013

Location: Yaounde, Cameroon

Victim: Zuri Epwene

Age: 28

Zuri desperately wanted a baby. Yet, years of trying has led to nothing. She stared blankly at the negative test on her bathroom sink. Tears were all dried up by this point, she was just tired of it. Her husband was probably tired of it too but he never showed it out right. It was probably best they give up on trying to conceive for both of their sakes. 

Zuri sighed and got up from her toilet. She had more things to do rather than mourn a dead fantasy. She tossed the test in the trash. Just as she was about to leave she felt an odd warmth enter her belly that gave her pause. 

A few seconds passed and suddenly, Zuri's stomach lurched forward. 

"Huh!? OW!" Zuri shouted, her hands springing toward her belly. 

It felt bloated under her shirt. Swollen. It lurched again, forcing her palm outward and her shirt riding up her suddenly expanding bump. The weight made her knees bend with every lurch. Her breasts started to expand out of her shirt, the fabric around chest strained as they grew. Zuri tore off her shirt bra just so she could breathe. 

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked…pregnant. Damn near ready to pop pregnant. She was carrying low, her belly button was stretched flat, she had a linea nigra down the middle of her dark skinned stomach- it was unmistakably a pregnant bump. 

Just when she thought it was over, her stomach exploded with growth again. This 3rd time was worse. Forcing her skin to stretch even further than she thought possible. She screamed, her fingers dug into her rapidly swelling skin. Stretch marks quickly appeared on the underside of her bump. 

Zuri looked between her giant belly and the mirror. Her belly hung low, and pointed out like a bullet. All the weight settled low in her womb, it didn't look like it could get any lower. Movement rolled through the tight surface of her belly, making her heart swell. This was what she yearned to feel for so long. 

"I have to be losing my mind…," Zuri's hands traveled across her giant swell with wonder.  

Then, something hard dropped in her pelvis. A hard seizing constricted her full belly making her shriek. Pressure, so much pressure. A silky film bulged out of her contracting cervix. Then it tore. Liquid leaked from her opening, dripping into her shorts. Before she even registered it, the bulge ruptured. Water cascaded down her legs and an intense contrast gripped her belly. The head of the child forced its way through her unprepared cervix. 

Zuri, mouth wide, dropped to her knees underneath the pressure. Her stomach contracted viciously. She screamed as the huge head of her baby shot through her. Her body pushed and convulsed against her will. The big baby was tight in her canal. Zuri desperately pulled her shorts down to her knees as her labia started to burn. 

"It's too fast! Too fast!" Zuri leant back on her hands, bucking her hips and swollen belly upward. 

A scream clawed its way out of Zuri's throat. The huge head was unrelenting and quickly burst out of her nearly torn crotch in a rush. Zuri's lower half convulsed as her womb seized her hard and pushed the rest of the baby out onto the floor.  

Zuri fell onto her butt with the release. Her still taut belly moving up and down with her labored gasping. She looked down to see the huge baby on the bathroom floor, starting its first cries. 

Before she could bend forward to pick the baby up, another stomach crushing contraction wrapped around her. Another hard ball shoved itself into her cervix. 

"Another one!" Zuri's stomach contorted roughly as she shrieked. More fluids gushed out of her pussy and the 2nd baby's body shot through her ravaged canal. 

Her labia stretched out wide for the baby's head. Zuri's pelvis vibrated with the pressure. The head was so big. So,so big. Zuri drew her chin into her chest and pushed with the constant seizing. Her torpedo belly lurched forward and the head launched out of her pussy along with the shoulders. 

Zuri nearly fell back onto the bathroom floor. A mess of sweat, fluid and blood covered her bottom half.Zuri bent foward and picked up both babies with nothing but shock and awe on her face.

"Zuri! Are you ok?! The entire town is chao-," her husband screamed as he burst into the bathroom. 

The big twins were just beginning to cry in Zuri's arms. The shock melted off of her. She didn't even register her husband's worry-filled questions when he slid to her side. All Zuri could think about was, no matter how fleeting, she'd felt them grow inside her, felt them travel through her, and she could feel their warmth on her skin. It was real. She'd finally gotten what she wanted.

Incident No. 75678

Location: Dhaka, Bangladesh

Victim: Sadiq Raman

Age: 39

"Alright Class, who can tell me what the three phases of the second stage of labor and childbirth are?" Sadiq asked his class of nearly 60 students. 

The class was silent. Several students looked like they were mulling over their answer so as not to expose themselves for not reading last night's material, others looked distracted and disinterested. College students were supposed to be burning the midnight oil, not coming to lecture completely unawares. 

Sadiq sighed and took out a stack of papers. "Fine then, pop quiz. We'll see who knows how childbirth wor-" 

Suddenly, Sadiq felt a warmth enter him. It was odd. Not a feeling he's felt in a very long time. He looked around the room. All of the female students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, looks of discomfort crossing their faces. 

Sadiq gasped as his stomach lurched forward suddenly, almost breaking the buttons around the midriff of his blazer. All of the female students started shouting in alarm. Their stomachs expanded to various sizes underneath their shirts and dresses. From behind him, his assistant's stomach also suddenly grew, but busted through the buttons of her shirt. 

"What in the…" Sadiq said in shock looking between his newfound belly, his freaking out students and his assistant. Sadiq quickly unbuttoned his strained shirt. His stomach looked like he was 3 months pregnant. What is going on, is it just bloating? Was something wrong with what we ate this morning? Sadiq thought. He quickly looked at his assistant who had done the same as him, but her belly looked as if she was at the 6 month mark. Before he could even check on his students, everyone's bellies lurched forward again.

Sadiq's belly grew further to almost the size of an early third Trimester belly. He grunted as the weight suddenly hit his pelvis. Movement from within accompanied the lurching, making Sadiq's hands shoot toward his belly. A baby? No that's impossible, i shouldn't be able to-

Sadiq's thoughts were cut off by his stomach expanding once again. His belly turned into a swollen, perfectly round full term belly. His knees bent 

His teaching assistant was laid out on the floor, gargantuan belly towering over them. Students were either on the floor writhing or trying to get. 

Suddenly, Sadiq heard a scream from near the door, then a splash. A heavier set student was gripping the doorknob with one hand and their swelled stomach with the other. Shock crossed their face as fluid dripped onto the tiled floors. 

The room was silent for a second. The a wave of screams and gushes went across the room. Every girl in the class was having the waters broken one after the other. A torrent of fluid burst from Sadiq's assistant that made her buck her hips. Sadiq turned to help her, but a sharp pain stabbed into his stomach and crotch. His own waters burst out of him, soaking his pants. Intense pressure and pain shoved down into his inner opening. 

It was the head. It was forcing its way out. Sadiq leant on his podium as his now dropped belly contracted in him. The baby was forcefully stretching him open. 

Some of the men instantly tried to help their suffering peers. Pulling off skirts, pants and offering a shoulder to lean on. The young women were in hysterics. One student's baby slid roughly into her pants, but her stomach was still huge and contracting. Another, having gotten their skirt off, had two legs dangling from her crotch. 

"Professor! It hurts! It's too big!" His assistant shrieked on the ground. There was a huge wet bulge at the crotch of her jean's. Sadiq forced himself to the ground, his own burden starting to force his hips wide and burn his crotch. His stomach heaved with brutal contractions. He couldn't take his pants off yet, not until he helped his assistant at least. 

He got between her legs and yanked her strained jeans down to her knees. Her panties were struggling to hold the baby. The fabric was tearing at its thinnest parts. His Assistant, unable to resist, arched her back and pushed downward. Sadiq quickly stripped the panties off her crotch and the huge bodied baby shot through her. The assistant shrieked as the baby's head and shoulders slightly tore her pussy in parts. 

His assistant fell back onto the floor huffing for air with the insanely huge baby crying on the ground between her bloodied legs.

With her taken care of, Sadiq finally pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees, immediately feeling the full, burning crown in his crotch. His body forced the child down now that the path was unrestricted, his tan stomach lurched and seized. The head gushed out of him, followed quickly by the shoulders. The baby fell into Sadiq's pants and started wailing loudly. 

  The entire class room was still filled with both the screams of his students continuing to birth twins and triplets and newborn babies crying . Sadiq got up from the floor with his baby in hand and wide waddled toward some of his still laboring students to help. He had no idea how the hell this happened, but at the very least, everyone in the class will be able to answer questions on childbirth. 

Incident No. 908

Location: Merida, Yucatan

Victim: Gabriela Ortiz

Age: 19

Gabriela breathed tiredly. It had only been 2 hours since she'd given birth. Since she pushed a big, 9 and ½ pound baby boy into the world. She still felt the phantom pain of contractions through her crotch and stomach. She massaged her still distended belly. It felt so weirdly empty, yet she felt good about it.

The ordeal of carrying such a big boy on her small body exhausted her near the end. Even with the support of her boyfriend, Emile, and close family. Only her midwife, her grandma, and Emile were there for the birth though. H

Emile was on the bed, settled close next to her. His body was comforting and solid. His eyes didn't move from her or their son in her arms. 

"You made such a beautiful boy, Ela," Emile whispered in her ear. 

"He's a cutie, huh?" Ela said. 

Suddenly, she felt a warm sensation feel like it slipped into her worn cervix. Ela flinched a bit and massaged her postpartum swollen stomach. Then her stomach lurched. Hard. 

"Ohh fuck!" She shouted, her hand gripping her stomach. 

"Ela? What's wrong?" Emile took the baby from her grasp. 

"My stomach hurts. I don't know wha-" 

Her stomach jumped out even harder, expanding to the size she was 7 months into pregnancy. Her linea and belly button quickly regained their form on her swollen belly. 

"What the hell," Emile whispered. He took their son and placed him in his crib. 

Gabriela's stomach roughly jumped out again, stretching her even larger than when she was full term. 

"W-whats happening to me?!" Gabriela babbled, gingerly holding her swollen tight stomach. Suddenly, she felt movement, a kick. Its not possible. There was no way a twin just appeared in her stomach. 

"Get grandma, get her up n-" 

Ela then felt something drop. Then a horribly sharp pain went through her stomach. A burst of fluids shot out of her labor worn canal.

Shock crossed her face as she felt the pains of labor rip through once again. She cried out her boyfriend's name. The sides of her stomach drove inward on the mass inside her.

A scream erupted from her already worn throat as the huge mass bore down through her canal. Her hand clutched the hard surface of her fecund mound, it was so much tighter drawn than before. Her body forced her baby through her cervix. It already being stretched and worn made it find its way to her vaginal opening quite fast.

The huge head barreled through her speedily. The head quickly stretched her beyond her limit, her mouth was agape with searing pain that exceeded what she felt with her son. Her womb contracted hard, forcing the child's head out of her with a spurt of hot fluid.

"Ela, heads out! You're doing great!" Emile encouraged. 

"I'm not doing anything!" She screamed back. 

 It felt like her body was working against her, without her say. It was only concerned with forcing the foreign child out. But, her physical limits couldn't expel something so big. The baby's shoulders rammed against her hips. Over and over until Ela was bucking her hips in pain. Her pelvis creaked like it was threatening to give and her body just contracted harder on her. Ela crumpled the sheets of her bed in her hands and pushed desperately. 

"My god, what is happening," Gabriela's grandmother burst through the door. "What's all the scream-" 

"THE SHOULDERS ARE STUCK!" Gabriela's shrill cry echoed through the home. "I CAN'T PUSH IT OUT!"

"Get her on her hands and knees, boy!" Her grandmother, instantly in midwife mode, ordered Emile. 

Emile forced his strong hands around Gabriela's convulsing body and started to turn her off her back. She could barely help him with the constant pain she was in. 

Once she was on her knees, her grandmother forced one of her legs up. Ela felt the baby move a bit as soon as she did. 

"FUUUUUCK!" Gabriela's back arched as she finally bore down and her constantly constricting stomach. 

The shoulders unhitched itself from her pelvis in the new position. The shoulders shot out of her and warm fluid burst from Ela's vacant pussy. Gabriela fell flat on the bed when the pressure finally subsided. 

Gabriela could feel the exhaustion overtake the adrenaline and her eyes started to grow heavy. In her boyfriend's hands was a baby girl bigger than her first born. She decided right there it would be a couple years before she even had sex again.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

; good enough

© @pedropcl

lee bodecker x fem!reader.

summary. your father invited you to his birthday party and things ended badly.

words. about 2.3k.

warnings, tags. nsfw, +18!!! drunk state, language, unprotected sex, daddy!kink, very brief degradation, mention of bodily fluids, very brief mention of violence. and i think that's all.

a / n. first time writing for this man that has me obsessed, so i hope y'all like it! none of my writings contains reader's body descriptions to be inclusive. if you find something out of place, please send me a message and i'll change it.

You didn't want to be there, but it was your father's birthday and you couldn't miss it. More than thirty minutes had passed since the last time you saw your husband standing in a corner of the large living room, sipping from his glass of whisky and judging every guest around in silence. Lee hated your parents, your family, their friends. And you didn't blame him. Your family never accepted him, always repeating that he wasn't good enough for you, nor your interests. Except for your mom. She wasn't the only one who didn't treat him like dirt.

Once that you escaped from your father's arms, showing you as a trophy and trying to set you up on a date with one of his best friend's sons, you stepped out of the house to the back garden. It was cold outside, having to close your jacket around your chest as you closed both arms over it. Following the footprints on the grass, you reached the improvised parking where different cars were stationed. The smoke coming from nowhere called your attention, glimpsing Lee sitting on the hood of his black Ford. Cigarette in his left hand and bottle of whisky in his right.

You doubted for a second to interrupt his moment of peace for the first time in two weeks. Two long weeks where you barely had spent time together. He started holding over his shifts because, apparently, there was too much paperwork to attend. You couldn't help but think that he was raving mad about you, or about something you did unconsciously. But the real problem was that your husband never used to talk about his feelings or what was going in his mind.

“I think you've drunk enough”. You uttered watching him raise the bottle to his lips.

Lee chuckled ironically, shaking his head. “Lucky me I don' care”.

Frowning and with your mouth pressed closed, you walked towards his position to face him. He had never talked to you like that, but he was being honest, shrugging his shoulders to point it out a little more.

“I do. I do care”.

“Don' worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna shame you in front of your family”. He scoffed bitterly, finally sipping from his drink. “Watya' doin' here anyway? Party's indoors”.

“You're here tho”.

“And who fuckin' cares, uh? You were having so much fun inside with that… pretty boy who works in Wall Street”. Your husband mocked taking a drag from his cigarette. “We should divorce, don' you think? So you coulda go with him to the big city, and don' be stuck in… How d'your father call it? Knockemshit. Stuck with a… fat sheriff of a shitty town”.

Lee didn't notice the tears blurring your gaze till he raised his face. The bitter smile curving his lips suddenly disappeared, putting his pale blue eyes away from you because it was too painful for him to watch you cry. Your husband gulped hardly, kissing his teeth as he threw the cigar somewhere on the ground. You couldn't believe he really wanted to divorce you, wrapping your heart with a suffocating sorrow that barely let you breathe. He was your life and, after three years together, he seemed to not give a shit about it sometimes.

“I ain' like them”. You whispered sniffing.

“Tha' doesn' change the fact that you don' deserve a man like me. Your father is right. 'M a fucking loser compared to anyone inside his damn house”.

You loved Lee with all your heart, soul, mind, body. He was everything you want in your existence —your life. So damn obsessed with his touch, his kisses, his smell of wind and leather, his smile, that beautiful pair of pale blue eyes. You refused to believe he was talking seriously.

“You should be there. I— Imma go home, tell your mo—”.

Before your husband could finish his goodbye, you interrupted him by slapping his face. He didn't see that coming and you'd never imagine yourself hitting him. But you needed it, seeming the only way to stop him from abandoning you there. He kept his face away from you, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His drunkenness suddenly disappeared, pressing his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue whilst rubbing his hand over the reddened skin. You were so mad right now that you could set on fire the whole world.

And you were about to do it a second time when Lee caught your wrist in the air, painfully gripping his fingers around it to push you closer —chest against chest. Then, he raised his index finger. “Don' you fuckin' dare to try it again, y'hear me?”

You were furiously breathing, but not filling your lungs with air in reality, keeping your eyes on the blue ones that used to steal your heart every single day. It was like a contest of dominance you knew he always won. Any time.

Your husband didn't give you the chance to say sorry, slamming his lips on yours. A moan died in his tongue when it invaded your cavity while releasing your arm to fly his rough big hands to your ass, almost grabbing it all with his long fingers. Your digits went to the lapels of his leather jacket, not lasting too much there till finishing on the back of his head.

Lee was hungry for you, just like you were for him after two long weeks barely touching each other. Your husband devoured, sucked, and bit your lips, urging you to turn around enough to push you on top of the hood of his car. His hands pulled up the skirt of your dress, wanting to reach the waistband of your panties, receiving the great surprise that you weren't wearing any.

“You little dirty girl… Don' wantin' your Sheriff to lose time, uh?” He grunted with such an animal and eager tone, as he took care of the belt and the zip of his pants.

“I need you”. You sobbed against his lips, feeling his hands maneuvering between your legs.

At least, you were fast enough to cover your mouth with a hand when Lee rammed his rock dick into your soaked cunt, drowning in your palm a loud cry of pure satisfaction for being filled by your husband. Back and forth, he hit your body once and once, impaling you against the Ford still being furious by the way your father and friends treated him as if it was your fault. Lee was mad, really mad, digging his fingers in your hips to pin you on place and don't move, continuing fucking you harder and harder —challenging you to not be able to be quiet and make everybody heard how good he used to made you feel.

“Goddammit… you're so damn ti— tight, baby doll… So tight fo— for your daddy, ain' ya?”

“Yes… Yes, daddy”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck.

His strong scent filling your lungs caused you to roll your eyes white, letting your soul leave your body while his cock attacked fiercely your pussy with no mercy. Your vocals were in sync with the screeching noise the car produced in every thrust straight to your guts. The pace was insane, intense than never before, and more pleasurable than you could imagine in your life.

Lee was aware how much you loved him, that you felt devotion for him. But sometimes —sometimes like those— he couldn't help but think he could lose you as soon as you realized who he was in reality. You didn't care. You weren't blind. You knew about his dirty laundry, his past, his sister (...). And you still wanted him with all your heart and body.

“Fu— Fuck, gonna put a… baby inside you”. He growled, wrapping his right around your throat to urge you to face him. “Y'want it, uh? D'you want dad— daddy to put a baby in that… beautiful belly?”

“Yes… please, Lee”. You whined with teary eyes, being too much pleasure for your body to handle. “Please, daddy… I wa— want you to… get me pre— pregnant with your child”.

Your husband's lips curved up in a petty smirk, pulling out from your dripping cunt, causing you to sob in disappointment. Lee managed to put you down on your shaky feet to turn you and force you to bend over the hood of his car. Ass upped, legs spread. He only took a second to stare at your glistening and abused folds in your arousal, prior to impaling you again. With a hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your head, your husband obligated you to arch your back as he continued banging your anatomy once and again.

At this point, you had forgotten your name, where you are, and if someone could hear how you cried pleased any time he crashed against your g-spot. It was a mix of pleasure and pain as Lee wasn't having any kind of compassion with your cunt, clenching unconsciously around his hard length. He knew then how close you were to cumming for him —because of him—, increasing the pace while you tried to find a place to put your hands on and find some balance to stay in place. As soon as the hand tangled in your hair landed back to your throat, you gripped five fingers around his wrist, enjoying the brief lack of air because of it.

“C'mon, my swe— sweet whore… Y'wanna cum for daddy, don't ya?”

His raspy and wrecked voice fell into your ear like an angelic melody, not being able to hold your moans anymore within your mouth. The knot inside your lower belly was bigger and bigger and suffocating, feeling how it could explode at any time. Lee shoved his cock non-stopping producing a sloppy obscene sound when his pelvis crashed against your ass, along the chink of his belt against the back of your thigh.

“Daddy… Daddy…” You called him while the tears started to fall again through your cheeks, this time, of absolute satisfaction.

You couldn't help but bite your lip strongly till the metallic taste of blood covered your tongue, letting yourself go as the knot bursted within your belly. The orgasm threw you above the edge with your husband's palm covering your mouth to not be heard or it would be really awkward to be caught by all the guests, even if he didn't care. He wouldn't mind showing that pretty boy from New York that nobody could fuck his little dirty girl better than himself. Oh, how funny it would be to see his face while your husband was ramming his cock into your abused pussy, cumming inside your tight walls, digging his teeth in your neck to mark his territory.

Lee came with a sensual and passionate hoarse gasp causing you goosebumps bristling your skin, burying himself balls deep to hold it inside the mix of your juices filling up your center. It felt like being in Heaven, although you weren't sure if you could walk after such an intense quickly, feeling your walls burning as his dick still twitching and stretching your cunt.

Your husband wasn't a man of kisses after sex, that's why he surprised you when tilted your face to his and pressed his lips on yours, panting, not caring about the lack of breath. It wasn't a lustful kiss either, more than a tender and fondly one, tasting your mouth, playing with your tongue.

Pulling out his semi-erection, Lee helped you to clean yourself with a tissue before using it to clean your arousal on him and toss it to the ground. As he put on his pants, you fixed your dress and your hair, turning around.

“You meant it?” You dared to ask, still having sorrow covering your voice. ���Gettin' divorced… You mean it?”

“What?” He inquired, squinting confusedly until he realized what you were talking about. He chuckled holding your chin with two fingers. “You married me, darlin'. There's no other way you're gonna spend your life but with me. Willingly or not, you hear me?”

Lee raised both eyebrows very sure of his word before you nodded your head with a fleeting smile crossing your lips.

“Can we go home now…?”

“'S that what you want?”

You nodded your head a second time, while your husband placed his arms around you with hidden possessiveness to guide you back to your childhood's house. And of course, your father was enraged when you told him that you were leaving with your husband. He yelled at you and nobody tried to stop him till the moment he had the brilliant idea of pretending to lay a hand on you.

Lee punched him. Lee broke his nose. Lee made your father fall to the floor between the pretty boy's arms. And Lee never felt better in his whole damn life.

“Don't you ever come back to this house, if you leave now with this… bastard”.

“She doesn' need you”. Your husband cooed wrapping your neck with an arm, leaning slightly to borrow your purse. “Ma'am, my pleasure a see ya' again. The beef was delicious. G'night”.

You were yet processing what just happened, ashamed of the desire for your husband himself awakened inside you after watching him hitting your father. Lee could be a total asshole sometimes but one thing was undeniable: he loved you with all his heart and soul, he was obsessed with you since the very first time his oceanic eyes contemplated you walking down the street, smelling a bucket of roses you bought for yourself.

Never again you knew anything about your family. Not even when your son, called after your husband, was born. But you weren't sad. As Lee said, you didn't need them. You had your own family to take care of.

feedback is appreciated. if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment so i can know your opinion. reblogs are needed.

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[hpimaginesandblurbs]

hehehe hiii i was wonderinggg what if you were dating ron but he got jealous of you flirting with lee jordan so hes fucking you pretty roughly to remind you who you belong to and lee walks in and it turns into a threesome but ends w ron breeding you?

heheh sorry if thats alot

pairing: ron weasley x reader x lee jordan 

warning(s): 18+, unprotected sex, threesome, oral (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise, breeding kink, cumplay

word count: 2.3k 

a/n: ron just makes me weak. he’s probably my number two guy in the harry potter universe right behind draco. and you can’t convince me he’s not a dom. he is. he’s daddy. anyways, this request literally blew me away and the addition of lee was just so good. i just hope i did it justice. enjoy!

It was the Gryffindor party of the year. The streamers were out, the Wealsey twins’ fireworks were exploding left and right, and the alcohol was flowing. You boyfriend, Ron, had just helped lead Gryffindor into winning what seemed like their millionth consecutive Quidditch Cup so him, along with the rest of the team, seemed to be the stars of the show. 

While the team was making their rounds, you stuck close to Lee Jordan, the twins’ best friend and the best Quidditch commentator around. You weren’t flirting exactly, but it was nice to have the attention of a man when your boyfriend was busy. Little did you know, Ron was keeping a close eye on you. 

“You look smokin’ tonight,” Lee told you genuinely, a drunk smile slapped on his face. 

“Thanks, you clean up nice yourself,” you said back, nudging into his side gently. 

Lee swung an arm over you and dipped his head low to whisper in your ear. “Too bad you have a boyfriend or you’d be coming upstairs with me tonight.” 

“Maybe I’d like that,” you added suggestively, scooting closer to him on the small couch by the fire. 

“Speak of the devil,” Lee said ominously, nodding his head in the direction of Ron, who was making his way over to you swiftly. 

He had to dodge a few people who wanted to drink with the winning Keeper himself, but he finally made him way over to you and grabbed your hand, hoisting you up off the couch without a word. Next thing you knew, you were being dragged through the party and up to his dormitory.

“What are you doing?” You asked giggling, unclear just why he was dragging you up here. 

“I could ask you the same,” he said once you made it through the door. He released your hand and spun around to face you and you could see the anger written clear as day over his face. “What the fuck was that downstairs?” He demanded. 

“I was just having a chat with Lee. What’s wrong with that?” You asked indignantly. 

“‘Just having a chat’”, he mocked. “You were two seconds away from fucking him right infront of everyone!” 

“Ron, you know I’d never do that. Don’t be like this,” you pleaded, even though a part of you knew you were in the wrong. But the facts were your boyfriend was ignoring you for a better part of the night and Lee looked really good. 

“It seems to me like someone needs a reminder about whose pussy this is,” Ron said, grabbing you by your waist harshly and using one hand to cup your core through your leggings. All you could do was whimper before he attacked your lips with his, backing you up until you collapsed down onto his bed. 

“Tell me who fucking owns you, Y/N,” he demanded, quickly beginning to strip you of your clothes. 

“You. You do,” you told him, trying to make him see reason before he absolutely destroyed you and you couldn’t walk for a week. But it looks like no matter what you did it would be no luck. 

Next thing you knew, your pants were around your ankles and your lace underwear was being pushed to the side as he lined his cock up with your core, already wet from a full night of being horny and desperate for cock. 

“Care to explain to me what my little slut is doing this wet? I know it’s not from me,” he commented, his eyes burning with fire. 

“I wanted you all night, Ron. Please,” you begged helplessly, although you knew it made little difference. 

A large hand came down to smack your clit forcing your body to jerk and for you to let out a yelp. “Don’t fucking lie to me. I know you’re wet because you’ve been practically dry humping Lee all night. Guess it’s just my job to remind you whose cock makes you cum,” he said roughly, plunging his cock into you in one harsh thrust. 

You let out a cry and gripped his arms, nails digging into his biceps and feeling them flex beneath your fingertips. His thrusts were vicious, his cock so deep inside of you that you could feel it in your stomach. He was hitting your g-spot with every roll of his hips, his pelvis rubbing against your clit and making you moan loudly. 

“Fuck, Ron. You feel so good,” you cried out, wanting to prove to him how much you needed him - not any other man. 

“Good, take it. Then we’ll see if you even dare to look at another guy when I bring you back down there,” he growled out, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. 

Just as you let out another loud moan, the noise of the door creaking open caused both your heads to snap in its direction. Ron immediately went to cover you before he realized who it was, a smirk growing on his face. Without taking his eyes off the person in the doorway, he spoke directly to you. “You wanted Lee’s cock so bad, huh bunny? Well now’s your chance,” Ron said, tilting his head to invite your guest in. 

Ron pulled out of you just as Lee came into your vision and you swallowed harshly, unsure how to go about this. “Hi gorgeous,” Lee said with a wink, coming around to the other side of the bed. 

Suddenly, Ron flipped you over roughly, completely manhandling you until you were on all fours - your core exposed for Ron and your mouth right in line with Lee’s cock, the bulge obvious in his pants. 

You felt Ron’s cock trailing through your slit just as Lee went to undo his pants and you were simply trapped between the two men, no other choice but to comply with what was happening. Not that you were complaining either exactly. If anything, the entire situation made you that much wetter. 

“Go on bunny. I wanna watch you suck his cock while I fucked you,” Ron encouraged, continuously just dipping the tip of his cock into you and pulling back out, making you squirm. 

Finally, Lee had his cock out of his briefs and was stroking it languidly in front of your face, waiting for you to take the bait. Hesitantly, you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the tip, causing both boys to let out a groan that reverberated around the room. 

Ron rocked into you roughly, forcing your whole body forward and your mouth to engulf Lee’s entire cock. You gagged around him, his hands coming to grip your hair to keep you down until you couldn’t breath before he let you back up. 

“She feels so good, mate,” Lee commented to Ron over your body as if you weren’t even there. You were just their plaything right now, and that was something you could do well. 

“Trust me, I know,” Ron said, a cockiness in his voice that wasn’t usually there caused by how turned on he was seeing you pleasure another man. He knew all too well what you were capable of. “You hear that bunny? Keep making us feel good,” Ron coaxed, his hips returning back to their fast pace from earlier, rocking your whole body up and down on both of their cocks. 

“Doing so good gorgeous. Fuck, look at you,” Lee mused, his fingers trailing down your face. 

Your eyes flicked up to his and you had to let out a moan at how dominant Lee looked above you. You were relishing in being dominated by these two men who turned you on so much. It was the perfect culmination of the events of the night and the coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter with each passing moment. 

You doubled down with enthusiasm on Lee’s cock, wanting to get him as close as possible before your inevitable release that was creeping up on you far too quickly. 

“Look at my little filthy slut. You fucking love this don’t you, Y/N? You love showing someone else how filthy you can be for me, huh?” Ron asked, leaning down so his chest was pressed to your back and his lips were trailing along your shoulders. You tried your best to nod, but Ron gripped a chunk of your hair and pulled you off of Lee’s cock easily. “Use your words, bunny,” he said roughly, his thrusts never faltering. 

“Yes, fuck. I love it. Fuck, I’m so close, Ron please,” you exlaimed through unashamed moans, voice trailing off into a whine the longer he held your head back. 

“You think she deserves to cum tonight?” Ron asked Lee pointedly, once again going back to ignoring your presence despite how much pleasure you were giving both of them. 

“Not sure, she was a naughty little thing tonight,” Lee mused, his cock rocking in and out of your mouth as he spoke. He seemed like he was totally unaffected as he continued. “She told me that if she didn’t have a boyfriend she would have come up here with just me tonight, isn’t that right gorgeous?” Lee informed Ron, teasing you in the process. 

“Course she did,” Ron said, the annoyance heavy in his tone.”She’s just a little whore who wants attention, isn’t that right?” He asked, a hand coming down with a loud crack on your ass, a yelp fighting to come out of your throat as you gagged around Lee again. 

“Ron, please,” you begged, panting harshly. 

“You better fucking wait and hold it until I fill you up, do you understand me?” Ron asked, his hand snaking around your throat again. You could only whimper before Lee’s cock went right back into your mouth, hard and heavy on your tongue as you worked your hardest to get him off before you. 

Your legs were trembling on the bed and the only reason you were still upright at all was because of Ron’s unwavering grip on your hip and throat. 

You could tell Lee was close when you felt him twitch on your tongue, and it was only a moment after that you tasted his cum explode inside your mouth while he groaned your name. You continued your ministrations until he pulled out, waiting until he made eye contact with you before you swallowed it all down harshly. “Fuck,” Lee mumbled, looking down at you in awe.

“Such a good slut, swallowing him all down like that,” Ron commented, having felt the way your throat bobbed underneath his hand. He was only pounding harder, making it that much harder for you to hold off your inevitable orgasm and your whole body was trembling and sweating now. 

“Please,” you whined again, out of breath and desperate for release. 

“Tell me what you want, bunny. Use those pretty words,” Ron mused, pulling you up by your throat until you were both balanced on your knees on the best with his chest pressed closely against your back. 

You turned to look at him, back in your bubble of just you and him, before you began to beg in earnest. “Ron please, cum in me. Need to feel it. Fill me up, please,” you begged, your hips grinding back into his with every thrust. 

“Fuck, bunny,” Ron rasped out, growing close to his own release. “Cum for me and I’ll fill you so deep. You’ll be dripping for fucking hours when I’m done,” he said, spewing promises and permission all in one breath. 

You came with a cry, vision going white as your body exploded. You were trembling in his arms, incoherent noises falling from your lips and your eyes squeezed shut. When you felt his cum filling you up, it was almost like a second orgasm going through you, your body tensing and releasing again with such a force that you thought you were going to collapse. You were so full of it that it was leaking out around his cock, trailing down your legs and onto the sheets. You rode out both your orgasms, your hips grinding down on his cock until you couldn’t take it anymore, falling back against his chest. 

When your hooded eyes finally found Lee’s form again, he looked like he’d just seen a goddess in the flesh. “You look incredible when you cum, gorgeous,” Lee praised, unable to take his eyes off of you. 

You gave a breathless chuckle, unable to give either of them any words right now. 

Ron caught his breath well before you and pulled out, letting his cum leak from your and down your legs. He gently pushed you forward until your hips were raised so he could watch it spill out, trailing his fingers around your slit to collect as much of his own cum as he could. 

Lazily, he brought his fingers up to your mouth. He didn’t even have to prompt you, you immediately took his fingers into your mouth and sucked off every last drop. His eyes glazed over again, already ready for round two, but Lee spoke up before either of you got carried away. 

“That was fucking incredible,” he said, making your eyes snap back to him. He was already redressed completely and clearly wanting to give you two some space. “If you ever want a third again, you know where to find me,” he added with a wink before departing from the room, causing you and Ron to chuckle. 

“Was that all okay with you?” Ron asked hesitantly. “I know you would have said something but I never really asked,” he said, sounding guilty. 

“That was fucking incredible, Ron. I had fun and you know I trust Lee,” you told him genuinely. “But I really just want you to myself now,” you said, a playful smile coming to your face as he laid down beside you. 

“Good cause I don’t think I’d be up to sharing you again for a while. You’re my girl. My perfect, slutty girl.”

[selfetishizing]

the star of my summer nights

August 12, 1:43 AM

A night of drinking for Ash’s birthday. Only one of them comes home drunk.

“You’ve gotta duck, babe,” he coos, and it kind of reverbs in a kaleidoscopic rain of words, making Eiji’s mind twirl in a cyclone of two-hundred kilometers per hour. Eiji groans at the throbbing in his head, made more severe by the soft pet-name bestowed to him by this suspiciously too-kind stranger.

“Y’got no business callin’ me ‘at,” Eiji slurs brattily, though following his instructions as obedient as a lapdog. He rests his chin in the space between his neck and shoulder, feeling flaxen wisps tickle his cheek. His citronnade hair glows as he carefully steps into his house, flicking the lights on.

“If not ‘babe,’ what d’you prefer? Buttercup? Bunny?” Eiji’s heart sinks and he lets out this frustrated, whinnied noise from the exhale of his nostrils. His voice has this kind of playfulness to it and it makes Eiji hotter than he already is, melting right onto his back like molten wax. “I know for a fact you love that one.”  

“Eiji. E-I-J-I. That’s my name! Given t’me by my mother on a sunny day in Izumo!” Eiji whines, childishly untangling himself from him. The guy’s got quick reflexes, quickly sliding the door shut and pressing Eiji back against it before he could fall back and split his cranium open like a watermelon. “Lemme go! I can walk! I can—”

He only presses harder against him, making sure that Eiji feels the ridges of his shoulder blades against his chest and the small of his back on his pelvis. Somehow, this gesture’s got him absolutely winded, deflating all of the air in his lungs and promptly making him shut up for a second to take the situation in. He’s currently got this handsome foreigner in his home. Has Eiji against the door, vulnerable and powerless. It didn’t help that everything was spinning in counterclockwise circles, making every viable route to safety unclear.

Oh.

He smells so nice, like freshly brewed lapsing tea. Like what a fireplace feels like after trudging in a blizzard. Snug. Homey.

He likes it.

It stirs something in him, titillates him in a complete sensory overload that he feels like he could explode.

“You have a very beautiful name, Eiji,” he tells him suddenly, and Eiji has no choice, zilch, but to stop and reconsider his tactics. “Your mother must’ve loved you very much to give you such a meaningful name.” Eiji cocks his head to the side, taking in his profile and blinking as if it’d make his vision sharper.

His heart races, the man’s voice suddenly doesn’t sound so ear-splitting. It thumps right there in his breast and he’s scared to death that the man can feel just what he’s doing to him, condensing him into a vat of mandarine marmalade. Eiji wonders what’s going on in his meandering mind and sort-of, kind-of wants to eat up every one of his words and follow its winding path down to madness. He knows just what to say, how to say it. Knows the right inflection to get Eiji’s mouth to dry, get him weak at the knees.

“I’m tired,” Eiji whispers, surrendering himself to the currents. “Take me to my room. Take me to my room upstairs and leave right away.”

“Yeah. Of course,” he says. “Anything for you.”

He trudges up in slow careful steps. The wooden steps creak under their weight and Eiji feels like he’s lived that sound time and time again with someone he can’t seem to remember right now. Racing up and down. Sitting there as they blow on their morning coffee. Being pressed against the railing, kissed and tasted when they were both too impatient to make it upstairs. Eiji closes his eyes to dive back into those memories to search for a face to match the hole in the portrait of his every day.

The man staggers into his room and fumbles for the light switch before bee-lining to the bed to rest him down. Eiji unlinks from him a little reluctantly, scooting back to the far side of the bed away from upon realization that he misses the warmth radiating from his body.

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he coos from the other edge of the mattress, promptly shrugging his hoodie off and tossing it to the ground.

Eiji purses his lips and looks out the window at the deep violet crepuscule, yearning for something he knows he shouldn’t have.

“You should.... You should probably go now,” Eiji tells him unsteadily, voice absent of any conviction.

The man crawls over to him, peridot eyes obscured by his threadlike hair and all of the alarms in Eiji’s head goes off at once. Even so, he lets it all unfold; lets him be close to him just for a second as if to test the waters. Eiji holds his breath until he’s blue, examining his eyes for a motive. He’s got him so entranced that it takes a minute for Eiji to realize he’s laying next to him, facing him, holding his hand.

“I’ve got a boyfriend."

“A boyfriend,” he echoes back with a hint of amusement, like the very thought of him with a significant other is nothing short of risible.

“Yes! And he won’t like it if he sees you here!”

“He’s… Right here?”

“You dope. Weirdo! My boyfriend’s nothin’ like you!” To be honest, Eiji can’t really remember what he looks like right now, but he feels it strongly there in his heart. Remembers the space between his fingers. The pink scars that mar his ivory skin. The shape of his lips. “I love him very much!”

“Uh?” Eiji can see him blinking his eyes in disbelief. He’s making fun of me. “Er, I mean, pfffft. What’s so lovable about this guy, anyways? Can’t be better than me.”

Eiji furrows his brows and pouts, screwing his eyes shut to immerse himself in sensations of his beloved. “He’s smart and funny and the prettiest person, like, ever.”

“Is he prettier?” asks the man with hilarity, propping his head up on an elbow.

No comment.

“He makes the best omelets, and he reads me to bed— even when he’s tired! Gives me the best shoulder rubs! Lends me his jacket when I’m shivering outside so I don’t catch a cold ‘cause that’s just the kind of person he is!”

“Yeah?”

“He’s scared of pumpkins ‘n natto, but that don’t change that he’s kind ‘n sweet ‘n caring! I love him, more than anyone! More than myself!”

“This guy sounds like a real looney if you ask me,” he chuckles.

“He’s… My bestest friend in the whole world. He’s—” But before Eiji can blather more about his significant other, the man hovers over him and captures him mid-sentence; coaxes him into a kiss before he can make a bigger fool out of himself. Eiji squeaks out in bewilderment, offended that this man had rudely cut him off as he was loudly professing his affection for the entire neighborhood to hear.

He kisses him kind, kisses him sweet, kisses him caring; strokes him with lava-dipped fingertips on the curve of his hip and further up, careful to not overstep the border between simple lip-locking and slightly-more-than-lip-locking.

Eiji’s only ever been in bloom when he’s with him. They fit together like needle to threadbare, making floral embroideries with every press of their peony lips. He traces vines and leaves onto Eiji with every caress of his finger on his cheek, his neck, his shoulders. The way he’s sprouting flowers onto his forehead finally gives Eiji a moment of clarity.

“He’s... me,” Ash whispers.

Everything finally clicks into place.

“You’re you.”

“Mm-hmm. And you’re sweet.” Ash taps his nose.

“Where did you go?”

“Was always here.”

Exhausted and waiting out the last dregs of his intoxication, he pulls Ash’s head into his chest and cradles him, breathes him in. 

“Then stay the night.”

“Kinda planned on it.”

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 16

The Chapter is finally out my Guardians 🐉

Chapter 16 : In the deepest memories of the last of the dragons

My hands would follow their path taken for several minutes, forming various abstract forms of their weak caresses. Many chills arose from time to time with my fingers when I explored new areas but no protest was ever heard, which prompted me to venture out again and again, savoring this almost suspended moment in time.

Blinking hard with white lids in the dim daylight streaming through the curtains, my gaze fell for a moment on the long locks that partially obscured Lance's sleeping face. With his head resting on my bare chest, he didn't seem to want to wake up from his deep sleep, an arm slung over my request now firmly pressed against him.

I directed my caresses a little higher until I reached a scaly area on his shoulder. Fascinated, I drew each outline as if to come to memorize them, surprised to feel them vibrate with each passage of my fingers.

It had been some time since I realized one thing. One thing who, each time he let me see it, filled my heart a little more with new feelings.

More and more often in my presence, Lance seemed to forget his barriers. So sometimes the young man let an infinite number of improbably colored scales run over his skin while, at other times, his ice ran through my body without any logic, drawing complex and involuntary shapes. I’m always surprised at the sweetness of these manifestations, yet they are born of a raw, primitive nature. Because despite his human appearance, Lance was nonetheless a dragon whose instincts he had and, beyond the brutality that accompanied some, I loved to see him let go. I had the impression that in those rare moments when the barrier between his two forms was weakening, he could finally relax, really be himself.

But to share with him this moment of physical intimacy In purely instinctive outbursts, he loved to mark me with his presence, ranging from his powers to his scent and at times, to his claws. Lance had been unintentionally brutal at times, but was it strange if I admitted that I absolutely loved every moment ?

The dragon pulled me out of my reveries, stirring lightly. Lifting his face with still sleeping features, he arched an eyebrow as he analyzed the situation, his gaze drifting over our still naked bodies. My breath quickened as one of his hands lingered on the slope of my hip as his eyes were already dark with desire. Without warning, he tightened his embrace and rocked over me. His long hair tickled my face as he leaned down to explore every inch of my neck, making me moan in spite of myself with languor.

- Hello, my angel, he said in a hoarse voice against my skin.

I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders as a weary smile stretched my lips.

- Hello, my great dragon.

Lance laughed in the crook of my collarbone as he let his icy hands rest on my thighs, causing goose bumps to grow in the grooves of his palms. His lips entered the slope of my jaw, and when they finally met mine, it was with some authority that he lifted my legs on either side of his narrow hips.

We kissed for a long time, our tongues meeting without delay to deepen our embrace. Between my legs, I felt him pulsing more and more vigorously, increasing with maddening speed the desire that had not left me.

- You do well not to forget in whose arms you find, he amused himself in a voice with a much deeper sound than usual.

I dug my nails vigorously into his muscular back as his hips pushed against my lower abdomen.

- How could I, exactly ? I questioned him with difficulty, so much the least of his gestures obsessed me. You don't really help me forget it...

- It's true that I can't keep my human form completely, with you.

- I don't mind, you know, I said with a laugh.

A gentle smile lit up his face, which features often so harsh. In a light mood, the dragon lifted my chin with his fingers to orient my face in his direction. I plunged without hesitation into his eyes which had occupied all my thoughts for several weeks.

Becoming serious again, we didn’t say the least for several long seconds, we observe with a heavy look of meaning.

- Andraste...

I knew what was going on in his head.

We.

Our relationship, our past, our present... To be in each other's arms was absurd, totally unconventional and we were both deeply aware of it. What would become of each other once we got out of this room ?

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing we could become for each other. And we knew it.

Deciding to stop our respective paths of thought, I crossed the short distance between us, feverishly pressing my lips against his. I kissed him with anger, despair, envy. I placed my fears in those powerful hands that encircled my hips, those greedy lips that devoured mine as if to come and seek some breath. I needed to feel him losing control, needed to drown in his eyes that screamed at me that they loved me.

Or at least, during these short, resolutely forbidden moments.

- Please, don't say anything, I said between two kisses, starting to move my pelvis against his. We'll have plenty of time to worry about this later.

Seeming to consider my words at first, Lance suddenly planted one of his hands on my hip as I shifted more and more vigorously under his weight that crushed me. Not giving me time to think, he shamelessly slipped two fingers inside me without ever taking my eyes off suddenly feverish. Reaching my guard, he stirred slowly but confidently, torturing me with his thumb a little higher. My God, I had never wanted someone so much, I was sure.

Each of his movements made a myriad of sensations explode in the pit of my stomach, making me turn my head with his precise gestures. My pelvis quickly accompanies his fingers, guiding them silently while each of my moans is found drawn to his lips. When a multitude of stars erupted in my field of vision, I firmly grabbed his throat as he led me over the edge of the precipice without warning.

As I lost ground, I noticed with a blank eye that my light was diffused into him. Starting from the base of his neck just under my palm, it illuminated him tanned skin with its bright, warm colors. In this story, it wasn't Lance who lost control the most.

I think it was me.

Not that I ever really had control over my powers, that would have been lying. But I no longer control anything. My emotions, my fears, my desires; I was constantly jostled, tossed about between everything.

When the dragon in turn realized that I was marking him without permission with my light, he groaned in satisfaction before promptly removing his fingers from my privacy. I didn't have time to figure out what was happening to me as I already found myself astride him, Lance having grabbed me to reverse our places, his hands feverishly running my back as his tongue attacked my chest. Tilting my head back, I let his hungry mouth move up to my ear, biting my skin with his suddenly sharper teeth until it slightly marked me.

With one hand, I pushed him away in order to come and press his back authoritatively against the mattress. His gaze darkens again as I lean over him, starting a slow descent from his abdomen. Another gasp escaped him as my palm met his erection, slowly working its way up from the base to the end, never taking my eyes away from his. Lance slid his fingers in an inordinately gentle gesture through my hair to achieve my face, making it easier for me. His hands began to shake slightly when I finally took him in my mouth, unable to fully accommodate him as long as he was imposing.

His breathing quickened as I started my task, fascinated to be able to discover him in my turn as he had done that night with my body. Very soon, I heard him utter several quiet moans which excited me to the highest point before he hastily tugged at my hair to make me lift my head. Bluntly, he pulled me up to him while vigorously grabbing my lips, framing my face with his large hands.

- I think I want you too much, my angel.

*

The water hit my head heresy, hitting my long hair hard against my shoulders. How long have I been wandering here ? My eyes narrowed at the force of the rain that fell on me, I moved forward as in a kind of constant blur.

My gaze was followed by a small shadow which is quickly in front of me. Running under the downpours, she didn't seem to feel them, moving freely in the surrounding darkness. I put a feverish hand in front of my face to try to make out something around, having lost the figure between the trees. Sailing blind, a childish laugh catches my attention as I push two branches in my path. Deciding to follow the sound of that unfamiliar voice, I sank deeper into what looked like a real maze.

The closer I got to the shadow, the more it seemed to take shape before my eyes. Very soon, I could make out rainbow-colored hair that blended into pale skin, accompanied by two small horns. The young girl was running innocently, as light as the air despite the brutality of the force of nature that fell on me. My heart skipped a beat when I thought I was losing sight of her again, which prompted me to pick up my pace even more. I stumbled many times, sliding across the muddy ground, hitting oversized roots. The thundering sound of the rain covered the sound of my frantic breath, my hair clinging to my face, entering my mouth, sticking to my eyelashes. My sight was diminishing, darkness absorbed me with its cold arms.

I didn't know what to do anymore, I was lost.

But suddenly the little girl's big silent eyes appeared in front of me. An arm outstretched in my direction, she invited me to join, as bright as the sun. When my fingers made contact with her skin, the scenery changed completely, making my head spin at breakneck speed.

The movements finally calmed down. I immediately recognized the Crystal Room, but it wasn’t the one I knew now.

Several people with unfamiliar faces stood in front of me. With serious faces, they were discussing without seeming to notice my presence.

- He will be the one we send there.

- A Guard Chief, when the situation is totally out of control there ?!

- He's far too young !

- Bring him in, cut in the man who seemed to be the decision-maker here.

A shiver ran through my back as the door opened wide, letting slow, sure footsteps echo through the room. When the young man in question passes close to me, brushing my right arm in the process, a sharp sensation marked my skin under my sleeve. He seemed to feel it too, for the expression on his face changed for a brief moment, almost flustered. His gaze caressed mine without actually seeing me.

- Lance, we were expecting you.

Continuing on his way, a confident smile widened the full lips of the dragon with such youthful features.

- Please excuse me for being late, Master Kaze.

Completely caught up with what was happening in front of my eyes, I was surprised to find the young girl's little fingers wrapped around my forearm. When I turned my head in her direction, the world shifted once again.

A companion collapsed at my feet, spurting blood against my legs. A violent gag took hold of me when its organs fell from the gaping wound that sawed through its stomach. Horrified, I backed up several meters when my attention was signaled by a huge dragon crashing into the rocks not far from me, all with a thudding noise. In a last rattle that comes back to my stomach, the creature collapses to the ground before taking on a semi-human form. Tears flooded my cheeks as I rushed over to him.

- LANCE !

My voice creaked, broke in my throat. I could only see the red puddle that gradually spread around his neck like a macabre web when my vision changed once again.

I was sitting on a bed in a windowless room. Beside me, a small gas light glowing faintly in the dark. Looking down, I noticed I was perfectly dry. No more blood stained my clothes.

- So if I understood correctly, you want to help me break this damn Crystal ?

A harsh laugh shook the broad shoulders of the young man as his interlocutor didn’t move a millimeter, perfectly stoic.

- You understood me very well, Ashkore. Do you want to make this deal, yes or no ?

Lance's gaze shone with a gleam that made my blood run cold. A carnivorous smile crossed his crazy-looking face.

- Very well, my dear deamon. But don't think you'll get me right.

The light suddenly went out, revealing once again the bluish color of the great Crystal.

Serenity reigned in the room. This time, no sound comes to disturb the religious calm of this atmosphere. A movement at the back of the room made me turn around anyway, revealing Lance once again.

Alone, casually assisting on the floor, his gaze didn’t seem to want to leave the luminescent jewel.

His eyes had never been so dark.

- That was the last time he was here, until you woke up.

I jumped at the sound of the small voice behind my back. The young girl stands there, motionless. I hesitated for a moment.

- Ophelia... where are we ? I questioned weakly, having her decide to disappear again.

Her expressionless gaze was lost for a moment in the void behind me. I thought she wouldn't answer me.

- In the deepest memories of the last of the dragons.

- But why ? What are we doing here ?

Walling herself in silence, she walked straight ahead until she crossed my body and passed to the other side.

- You have to find the answer for yourself, Andraste.

The recommended image to blur around me. No, not now, I had to catch up with her !

- Ophelia !

Abruptly opening my eyes, I woke up sweating in my bed, breathing heavily from my parted lips.

I was dumbfounded when I realized that tiny ice crystals were forming under my astonished gaze.

Damn, what happened to me ?

(Chapter 17)

[allegra-writes]

“Fool’s gold”

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Sex pollen.

This is an alternative version to my fic "Fireproof", where the reader gets doused by the sex pollen instead of Peter, but you don’t need to have read that first. As any sex pollen fic, this can qualify as non/dub-con, so read at your own discretion and responsability.

Dedicated to @angel-spidey because without her this would have never seen the light of day💓

MY MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Peter knew it was wrong. He knew it. He wasn't delusional enough to believe it was something other than the pollen making you act that way. Making you say those things. You had always been sweet to him, that was true, but you were sweet to everybody, didn't make any difference if they were a janitor or an avenger, it was one of the reasons he liked you so much. 

He also knew he wasn't the only one. His eyes weren't the only pair of eyes that strayed to you in the lab, Harley too seemed to be rather distracted whenever he was in your presence. And in fact, Peter didn't think he had ever seen Steve visit the lab that often before. Ever. And the guy was freaking Captain America, how could he ever compete with that? 

You didn't feel the same way about him, he had resigned to that a long time ago. To watch you from afar. To love you from afar. Because at least that much was true: the only way he knew he beated the other two men, beaten them by a long shot, was that he loved you the most. 

That was why he had left the med bay, because he couldn't stand it, seeing you like that, fighting against your restraints, skin flushed and eyes on fire, calling him, begging him to…

He wasn't able to resist it. 

And why he had walked away from the lab, leaving Bruce and Tony and even Stephen, to wrack their brains trying to find a cure, when the obvious solution was right in front of them. 

That was how he had found himself alone, in the dark, pretending to nap in the little on call room right outside the med bay, still in his suit after that disastrous mission they should have never let you tag along in the first place. Far enough from you not to hear your desperate pleas, but close enough to help if something happened. If the damn alien substance raised your fever enough to- No. He wasn't going to think about that. Dr. Banner was going to come up with an antidote. They still had time. 

Yeah, he knew it was wrong. He knew he should have told FRIDAY to alert mister Stark as soon as he heard the soft sound of your footsteps on the hallway. He knew he should have fled as soon as the knob turned and you entered the room. As you made your way to him. But he was paralized, frozen in place, as you leaned down over him, running your hot, way hotter than normal, hands down his chest, leaving fiery trails in their wake over the thin skin tight fabric of his suit. You raked your nails over his abs, feeling the muscle riple under your touch. 

"Y-you shouldn't be here" He stammered, as your fingertips came close, dangerously close, to the place where his suit was already starting to feel tight around his hips.

"Hmm… but you won't tell on me" your thumb traced the base of his length, a barely there caress that nonetheless had him jumping. "Will you, Peter?"

He breathed you in, another mistake. He could practically smell your desire, leaking through your pores. Pheromones, sweet and mouthwatering. 

He wouldn't. He couldn't. 

Even in the dark, he saw you smile bright at his surrender. Discarding your lab coat, you straddled his hips, little blue skirt riding up your thighs, and released your hair from its ponytail as Peter watched, entranced by your every move. You spread your legs a little more, letting your center come in contact with his by then obvious erection. He could feel your heat through his suit, choking on thin air when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear. 

"F-fuck…" He gasped, eyes rolling back inside his skull as you started rocking above him.

He tried desperately to hold still, to stop himself from bucking his hips up to meet yours, but it was impossible. Every cell in his body telling him to move, to touch, to take what he had wanted for so long. What he had never dared to dream he could have. 

You moaned at the delicious friction you were creating, and you could hear him starting to breathe harder too. He felt amazing, a soothing balm to your burning skin everywhere you touched. This was what you needed, what the chemicals running in your blood demanded. He was warm, and hard, and male. But more than that, he was Peter, and he had to be yours. There was no other way, no other ending for this story. 

You grinded your pelvis against his harder, the pressure on your clit just perfect, the coarse texture of his suit only adding to the sensations. You were making a mess of it, ruining it, but it was worth it just to hear his groan the moment your wetness seeped through the fabric. 

"We can't… we can't do this" Peter tried to protest, even as his hands flew to your waist to aid your movements. 

"Why? Because an alien pollen is messing with my head?" You got rid of your t-shirt, and Peter's reply died in his throat, you weren't wearing a bra either "because it's wrong? Because It's dirty and-"

A wounded sound left Peter's mouth, a wordless surrender, a sob at his own damnation, and he snapped, his fragile control finally shattering to pieces. One second you were on top of him, teasing him within an inch of his life, and the next you were trapped between the soft mattress and his hard body, as his lips ravished yours, one hand roughly massaging your breasts, the other slipping under your skirt, searching blindly, fingertips digging into the delicate skin of your inner thighs. He was furious in his onslaught, desperation clear in the way he was kissing you, all teeth and tongue. Greedy. Ravenous. 

Because if this was all he was ever going to get, just one night with you, as you used him to scratch an itch, then he was going to make the most of it. He was going to commit every little detail to memory: The shape of your body under his, the taste of your skin, the smell of your hair, vanilla and cinnamon and something else, something uniquely you. The sweet little moans falling from your lips. 

"Peter, please"

He almost died when you said his name like that, breathless and needy.

"What do you need, princess?" He sobbed, "Anything… it's yours…just-"

"You. I need you" You replied, graceless fingers clawing at his suit, "take it off, please, I need to feel you"

He obeyed, pressing the spider on his chest and practically kicking it off in his haste to return to you. You welcomed him back with open arms and open legs, as he crawled up your body, kissing every inch of skin he could find in the way. Your breath hitched when he got to that little spot just under your breast, and you could feel his smile against the curve of it, right before his lips enveloped your left nipple, calloused fingers circling the other one clumsily, unskilled. But you were too delirious, too far gone to notice, the miles of skin against yours both soothing and stroking the fire within at the same time. 

You cried out,

"Peter! Please, it hurts so much, please! I- I can't-"

He kissed the tears away, softly, delicately. A stark contrast to his own demeanour just minutes ago.

"I-it's ok. I got you" He cooed, caressing your face "I'll make it better. I promise" 

He braced himself on one arm, elbow digging into the mattress next to your face, as he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around himself, aligning with your center. It took him a few tries, even slipping out once. He had no idea what he was doing, only knew that you needed him, and he wasn't going to let you down. Your life depended on it, and it was too important, too precious for him to even think of failing. 

You raised your hips just a bit, and he was sliding in, easily, so easily, as if he was meant for it. As if your bodies were two pieces of the same puzzle, finally falling into place. 

"Oh god…"

You clutched as his shoulders, burying your hiss into his neck. 

"Oh my god are okey? Did I hurt you?" The panic in Peter's voice made you smile despite yourself. He was still Peter, the sweetest most caring guy you had ever met. Soft, even with his hard cock so deep inside you, you could feel it in your soul, in your very essence, already claiming you as his. 

But you didn't need gentle. You didn't want him to thread softly. You needed hard, and fast, and more.

"Peter… fuck me"

"I-..." His eyes met yours, and you saw a new determination in them, jaw squaring as he withdrew almost completely, only to surge again, tearing a new cry from your lips. 

He let instinct take over, starting to thrust in and out of you, your tight, silky heat making his eyes roll inside his head

"Fuck! Oh god… oh my god… you feel…" He panted, amazed, handsome face scrunching in pleasure, eyes closed and mouth slack, "Fuck, you feel so good!" 

You wanted to reply, to tell him how amazing he felt too, every inch of his thick hard cock stretching you just right. Every ridge, every vein sending shocks of pleasure to your body until you couldn't see straight. You could feel you peak already building, with every delicious drag.

"More… Peter, please… more" 

How could he say no, when you were begging so prettily in his ear, hand tugging at his curls making it hurt so good? He picked up his pace, hips slapping against yours. Over, and over, and over… 

You were still on fire, every inch of your skin alight, exploding in sensation but it didn't burn anymore. Now it was a simmering warmth, making everything sharper, more intense. Better than anything you had ever felt before. He was better than anything you had felt before. 

And Peter was lost in you, in your moans, in your body, in your cunt. In the way you were taking him, consuming him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle, letting him reach deeper, bury himself almost to the hilt. Your blunt nails digging into his back until he smelt blood. 

He fucking loved it, love the idea of carring your marks even after this was over. He knew he wanted you to wear his. 

His lips found your neck almost of their own accord, sucking and nibbling until the sounds leaving your throat were nothing short of pornographic, the wanton whines and moans resonating in the room until he was sure Bruce and Tony could hear them all the way to the lab. 

"Yes, scream for me baby girl, let them know how good I'm fucking you" Peter didn't know where it was coming from, that arrogance, that… possesivenes. He knew you weren't really his. It was the pollen, you would never be doing this otherwise. And he probably wasn't that good, it was his first time after all. 

But your cries, the way your whole body was trembling under his, were giving him confidence. 

"Oh god… you're coming for me, aren't you? You gonna come on my cock?" 

You opened your mouth in a silent scream, and he almost fell on top of you taken by surprise by the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock for the first time ever, triggering his own release. But he didn't have time to recover before you croaked a weak but firm, 

"More" 

He met your eyes, stunned, but all he found there was assurance and passion. 

He turned around on the small bed so it was you the one on top. 

"Ride me" 

You didn't need to be told twice, straightening on top of him, rising slightly on your knees only to let yourself fall back down, impaling yourself on his dick. He licked his lips, looking like a king with a hand behind his head, gazing up at you through hooded eyes. 

"Show me"

"What?" 

He gestured towards the mini skirt you forgot you were still wearing. 

"Lift up that pretty skirt, and let me see how good you take my cock" 

A little whine left your mouth at his words, and you did as you were told, never stopping your bouncing motions.

It worked as Peter imagined it would, his softening cock coming to life again as he watched it disappear inside you. 

"Look at that" he whispered, almost in awe, "such a beautiful pussy, looks so pretty, stuffed full of my cock…" 

You picked up your rhythm, a little unstable on shaky legs, both hands still holding the fabric up and out of the way.

"Peter…" you whimpered. 

"What do you need, baby girl? I told you, anything you want is yours… I'm yours" 

You moaned, incapable to find the words. Thinking was impossible, speaking was inconceivable, not with him still between your legs.

He bucked his hips, 

"Uh!" 

"That what you want, princess?" He smirked, smug, "Like it better when I give it to you?"

You nodded, shamelessly, your legs burning with the effort but stopping was not an option. He sat up on the bed, enveloping you with his arms, thrusting up into you faster, deeper…

You felt the head of his cock stab your cervix, and he must have felt it too, because he groaned, eyes glazing over. 

"Can you feel me? Feel how deep I am?"

"Yes" You hissed.

"Gonna come like this…" He took hold of your hips, bringing you down hard as he thrusted up, "come so deep inside you… mark you… from the inside" 

You could feel it approaching fast, the pleasure he was inflicting on you too much, too soon. 

"Fill you up so good…"

"Yes"

"Until it's gushing out of you… and then… gonna fuck you again…"

"Yes!"

"Come inside you again… make you my little cumslut…"

"Yes! Please… please give it to me"

He could feel you tense around him again,

"What do you need, princess?"

"Your come" You screamed, "Give me your come, Peter!"

"Fuck! My pretty little slut… take it… Take it!"

And you did.

…

You passed out somewhere between rounds five and six, utterly sated and exhausted, but Peter couldn't sleep, terrified of the moment you woke up, all the pollen consumed, the spell broken. He knew it wasn't real, but for a few hours, he had been happy, pretending you truly did love him, wanted him, as he had loved and wanted you since the first time he had seen you, all that time ago, the day mister Stark had entered the lab with you in tow, announcing Peter that he had a new lab partner. 

He was running his fingers softly up and down your naked back, a barely there caress, watching you sleep, relaxed and happy, when he heard the buzzing coming from your lab coat, long forgotten on the floor near the bed. He took it out and saw Tony’s name lighting up the scream.

He slid to pick up.

“Fucking finally! Y/n, where the hell are you?!”

“Mister Stark, it’s me” He whispered his reply, as not to wake you up.

“Peter! Thank God! What happened? Please tell me you didn’t-“

“Sorry, Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him, “We kinda did…”

“Shit! Please, Peter, please tell me you kids used protection!”

“Uh…”

Tony left out another loud curse at the other side of the line.

“Where are you? Y/n did something to Friday and now it won’t tell me where you are in the tower. You still in the tower right? I need the both of you to come to the lab right now” Tony was talking a mile a minute and Peter knew something very bad, not of the good was going on.

“Why?”

“Because,” Tony’s voice was frantic as he tried to explain the gravity of the situation, “That pollen thing? That’s not an aphrodisiac like we thought, it’s a fertility treatment. It messes your hormones and hers up with every fluid exchange! Like an artificial heath”

Peter turned to look at you, peacefully asleep, curling up to his side, blissfully unaware of anything and everything going on outside that bed.

And maybe it was the alien substance fucking up his brain, maybe he was the one fucked up, all by himself, but the mental image of you, round with his child, sleeping like that next to him every night? It wasn’t half as horrifying as Tony seemed to think it was.

After all, the girl of his dreams was finally his, and a baby would guarantee she would remain his, forever.

“You know what, Mister Stark? I have to go now. Talk to you tomorrow…”

“What? No, kid, don’t hang up on me! Peter Parker I swear-…”

Tony Stark heard the line go dead.

The end.

[bokugaos]

‣ for @shoyokuns

dear mous, first of all, I LOAF YOU SO FCKIN MOUSCH!!! thank you for being there for me so many times AND LITERALLY for EVERYTHING ELSE. thank you for staying even when im at my most annoying!! whenever I need any mental or emotional support (and academia support), you’re always there. I FEEL LIKE I GOT YOU AS MY CHRISTMAS PRESENT yknow. i am incredibly lucky to have found you <33

TO THE LOAF OF MY LIFE, MY ENABLER, MY ONE TRUE MOUS, THE ONE I LOVE THE MOUSTEST. 

(っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

tw — noncon/dubcon, threesome, holly jolly dp, bondage, his foot on your face ♡ 

— yandere kageyama x f!reader x hinata —

“I’m sorry.”

Hinata’s voice is wavering, hesitant, but you hear it for what it is. Not that you can call him out on it with how deep he is ramming his fat cock into your throat. His grip on your hair is not nearly excruciating enough to make you cry, no—it was the lack of air that brings you to tears—which you don’t blink out of the way so you don’t have to see that dark, lust-hazed look in his eyes. He is not barely the Hinata you used to know. 

Your hands are strained, rubbing painfully against the rope that secured them behind your back. Even if your wrists are not bound, you are too weak from Kageyama’s abuse and all the things he previously inflicted on you to even try to fight back. All you can do is dig your knees into the cold floor, praying that would be enough to brace yourself against the wild movements of Hinata’s hips.

From the corner of your eyes, you can tell Kageyama is watching, the disgusting expression on his face smug and overcome with satisfaction as he stroked himself to the sight of Hinata forcing himself on you.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this, having brought his old friend on you a few times before today, all to keep you in line. Hinata’s an unwilling participant in your humiliation, he only goes along with it because he keeps his own survival in his own interest, just like how you obediently do everything you are told to just so you could save your own skin.

But over time, as the situation grows more and more hopeless, he begins to lose himself in the pleasure of it. Rather than going along with the bidding just to survive, you can tell that he’s starting to enjoy the depravity. You watch as he he succumbs to Kageyama’s twisted will, and seeing him convince himself that he is still going along with it and not getting pleasure out of it at all is painful. Because you know that, in fact, he is.

It takes some gagging and brushing your teeth against his shaft to make him relent. Hinata looks like a possessed man, hunched over and breathing hard. The other has a half-lidded expression as his hand still idly strokes his cock. “When are you going to fuck her?”

Hinata turns back to you with what he probably hoped came off as doubt, but your heart clenches when you realize it is excitement. You cannot even express your disgust before he turns you over, pulling your ass backwards and snug against his pelvis so he can line himself up with your entrance. There is a brief moment of gratitude for having been forced to suck him off since your saliva on his dick is the only lubrication you’ll have. With only a few strokes against your pussy lips, he sinks his cock inside you, all in one thrust.

By now, you know better than to give the two men the pleasure of hearing you cry. You purse your lips tight to bite back all whimpers and moans behind your teeth, but it is getting really difficult to keep everything there with how savagely he is pounding into you. And just as you were on the verge of squealing out like a bitch in heat, Kageyama decides that it is a good time to join in on your fun.

You look up when you hear the footsteps come closer, but you are immediately forced back onto the ground by the impact of a foot against the side of your head. Baring your teeth from the strain, you manage to angle yourself that you can just get a glimpse at the underside of his heavy cock and the arrogant look on his face.

“Feel good?” his rough tone from earlier is gone and he is now softly whispering to you, but it still makes you sick. When you don’t answer, he nudges the side of your face with his foot in condescension, “Guess one isn’t enough for you.”

You stiffen; almost sighing in relief amidst your panic when Hinata pulls out of you. You cannot see him with how your head is angled, but you feel him shift from where he’s behind you. Once he is settled in the new position, he lifts you by your thighs, spreading them wide and exposing the area where you are joined.

Kageyama braces a rough palm against the back of your knee while he attempts to force himself into your other hole, even though you are already so full, and that itself is enough to make you start begging. “No, please don’t–”

You don’t think your body would even be able to accommodate them both at the same time, but he pushes you anyway, and it hurts. You howl in pain and thrashes violently against your restraints to try to get them away from you, but of course, it was to no avail. They have you at their mercy, and that is something they don’t intend to show you any time soon.

Kageyama can feel Hinata’s cock pressed up against him; separated only by a small membrane that still lets him feel the thick, quick pulse of blood going through his cock.

You’re moaning incoherently, long and drawn out, like a wounded pet, and in a show of kindness, Kageyama leans down to rub his hand against your cheek; drags big hands up your sides and then down again; feeling the soft surface of your skin as they follow your curves.

God, you are gorgeous.

What is he going to do if he doesn’t kidnap you here in the first place? You’ve drifted apart after you got to college, making new friends and meeting other men. You didn’t want to give him the time of day, least of all let him come anywhere near you with his dick. It’s all your fault, really, and that’s why he has to keep punishing you.

You clench your eyes shut to avoid having to look into Kageyama’s lust-filled eyes as he used you like a closed fist. But then comes the feeling of Hinata’s breath against the shell of your ear, followed by a kiss there, probably a fake apologetic gesture from the man. And just as you thought that is going to help distract you momentarily, Kageyama pushes in deeper; making you spread around him to accommodate their big cocks. For a second there, he thinks you are going to hyperventilate with how quickly you are panting. But he doesn’t really care.

“Feels good, right?” he croons, eyeing Hinata’s face across your shoulder. The other man is red and sweaty, looking like he’s hanging on by the skin of his teeth to not explode too early in the tightening grip of your inner walls. “A slut like you loves being stuffed like this, don’t you?”

You do.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Cabin in the Woods [18+]

Jackson Neill x Female Reader

For @storiesofsvu​’s Fall Bingo! Requested by @resparza​​! 

Summary: You and Jackson take a trip to New England that goes slightly awry.

Warnings: NSFW, nipple play, fingering, praise, slow gentle sex until the end when it gets a lil rough. Fluffy fluff & the tiniest bit of angst (so Jackson can reassure you). Trans male version here

3,350 words

Jackson made a tiny mistake with the timing. He booked your leaf-peeping getaway for mid-October, when the leaves in the city were just beginning to turn.

When you arrived at your cozy Airbnb in the mountains of Vermont, you were greeted by the awe-inspiring sight of… sticks.

“Goddammit. I forgot how geography works,” Jackson griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d been in a sour mood for most of the drive up I-91 when the scenery started to look distinctly more ashen than orange halfway through Massachusetts.

“It’s like we time-traveled two weeks into the future,” you marveled at the bare tree branches rattling in a chilly breeze. Your rustic cedar-shingle cabin was surrounded by forest and at the end of a long dirt driveway. Even without the screen of leaves, you couldn’t see any neighbors.

“So much for leaf-peeping. There are no leaves.”

You picked up a bright red maple leaf from the driveway. “Found one!”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm and shook his head. “If I made our reservation a week earlier, the foliage would be, you know, in trees.”

“Found another!” you pointed at the colorful ground, grinning. “There’s another!” You picked each one up and tossed them at him like confetti.

“Alright!” he groaned, curling his elbow about your neck like a shepherd’s crook to wrangle you in. “I see you refuse to have a miserable time. Won’t even wallow with me for two seconds?”

“I think it’s pretty.” You turned in his arm and kissed him.

The tip of your nose was cold, but your lips were warm as he kissed you back and tried to look on the bright side. Just because things weren’t going to plan didn’t mean he had to relapse into his ingrained Catholic guilt.

***

Since the publication of his book, Meyerism: A New American Religion, Jackson Neill had been receiving threats from the eponymous cult that had him on edge. Not only was he afraid for himself—he wasn’t so macho to pretend otherwise—but he worried about you or his kids getting caught in the crossfire. The deeper he dug into the Meyerist Movement, the more he was convinced they were capable of anything.

This vacation was supposed to be a way to leave all that behind for a weekend, but stress clung to him like spiderwebs.

At least the weather was cooperative. Friday afternoon was clear and sunny—just the right temperature to sit out on the porch with a hot cup of cider. After unpacking, you settled down with Jackson on Adirondack chairs and listened to the sounds of nature as the fading sun slanted orange and red through the forest.

Pops of bright color still stood out amid the dull grey-brown landscape like flames—late trees that had waited for your arrival to change.

“You’re right: it is pretty,” Jackson conceded, your hand nested in his. Your fingertips were getting cold, so he held them to his lips and blew on them.

Tomorrow, you’d go on a nice hike with a beautiful view of the snow-capped Green Mountains. The trip wasn’t a total waste, Jackson thought. He tried to relax.

***

The next morning, you awoke to the pounding of rain on the roof and Jackson pacing downstairs in the living room. The entire cabin creaked and groaned with the force of the wind, and you quickly pulled on a sweater and wool socks before padding down the stairs.

Jackson was tapping at his phone, muttering under his breath, before finally tossing the useless device on the couch with a dry laugh. His apparent crankiness couldn’t have been that bad, though—he’d gotten up early to light about a hundred votive candles, filling the dim living room with flickering golden light. He must have been planning something romantic.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“No signal out here in God’s country,” Jackson rolled his eyes at a wooden cross decorating a door frame, which had not been visible in the listing photographs.

“Isn’t there Wi-Fi?”

Jackson stared at you with lips so thin they vanished into a fine line, and eyes that looked ready to shatter like exploding light bulbs at any moment. “Storm knocked out the power.”

Oh. That was why he lit candles.

“And our hike is canceled, unless you want to go out in that.” A freezing mix of rain and sleet rattled the window panes.

It was easy to let another person’s bad mood get you down, but you tried to stay positive. He’d been so tense lately, he needed support. You both needed this vacation to go well. “That’s OK. We can stay in and get cozy with the fireplace.”

“You would think so,” he gave a humorless chuckle, shaking your arm off to sulk into the open-plan kitchen. “The listing said breakfast was included, but the refrigerator is empty. We’ve got… toast.”

“Maybe we can drive into town? Find one of those quaint little bakeries.”

“Out into the cold,” he sighed. “And we don’t have internet to look a place up. No wonder the host thinks they can get away with starving us—I can’t even call to complain!”

The wall of positivity you’d constructed groaned and cracked, and the anxiety it held back began to stream through. You sank down onto the couch.

Oblivious, Jackson hunted through the charmingly rustic (and empty) cabinets with an increasingly frustrated frown. “This trip is a disaster.” The words stung as surely as if he called you a disaster.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” He turned. Your voice was so quiet he barely heard you say anything.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated so he would hear, lower lip trembling with the effort.

It took him three strides to cross the entire cabin, and he was on top of you, kneeling in front of the couch, stroking your face. “Hey, no, no… What are you talking about?” His green eyes were soft as the hay fields you’d passed yesterday as they searched yours.

“It was my idea to come here,” you sniffed.

“I know.” His head tilted, and frown lines creased his forehead. “I wanted this weekend to be perfect for you, and I can’t get anything right. I don’t know why you’re sorry. This is my fault.”

“But it’s my fault you’re miserable. I thought getting away from the city would be relaxing. I wanted some alone time with you. But you’re not having any fun. I just don’t want you to be upset…”

Something changed in his eyes.

“I… I’m not upset.” His thumb gently stroked your cheek. “I’m not upset at all—not at you. Maybe at myself. Fine, entirely at myself. This was your trip, and I fucked it up. I hate disappointing you.”

A hint of a smile crept back into your face. You covered his hand with your own and turned into it to kiss his palm. “Jax, you could never disappoint me. All I wanted out of this trip was to spend time with you. So long as we’re together, I’m happy.”

“You don’t look happy.” A flicker of a self-deprecating smirk. “Guess I ruined things by being a grouch, huh?”

Your face once again threatened a smile. “No…”

“Yes. I’m a big mean grouch. Come on, you can tell me off,” he grinned, leaning close to your neck and purring his words against your earlobe. “Punish me. Throw a handful of sleet down my shirt. Push me into a pile of wet leaves.”

“Nooo!” you squirmed beneath him, fighting a laugh as he invented tortures for himself and kissed them into your skin.

“Come on, I deserve it.” He pulled back, and a smile broke across his face like dawn to see how your eyes had brightened.

“Alright, alright. Maybe just a little sleet.”

“From now on”—he pressed his lips against your neck again and sucked lightly at the beat of your pulse point—“I promise”—he nibbled his way over your jaw—“to appreciate every moment of our vacation”—his lips ghosted against yours—“and make sure you feel good.”

You pulled him down onto the couch with you, falling back onto the cushions as his lips melted with yours and his tongue hunted for a moan inside your mouth. He found one, long, slow, and tortured as you tasted the raw heat of his apology.

“Mmm,” you hummed as if a chocolate truffle were melting on your tongue. “You want to make me feel good?”

“Yes,” he sighed back, lips moving against your cheek and his hips lazily grinding against your thigh.

“I have a few ideas about how you could do that…”

“So do I.”

His long fingers slid down your stomach and slipped beneath the waistband of your flannel pajama pants. You drew a sharp breath as his pads grazed the top of your slit, and he paused, looking to you with lust-blown eyes for permission to continue. Sucking your lower lip between your teeth, you angled your pelvis to move his fingers onto the aching bud of flesh that sent hot shivers out beneath your skin at the contact.

“Seems we’re on the same page, Dr. Neill,” you whispered, and captured his lips again.

Moaning into the kiss with a dark, gravelly rumble, Jackson let his fingers venture deeper into your folds. You weren’t drenched for him yet. Moments ago, you had been on the verge of crying, and he still had to reassure your body that it was wonderful and loved—but he was a patient man and enjoyed taking his time. Each breath and sigh was a signal he attended like a rapt student in the front row of the classroom, his own pleasure coursing through his veins as he played with your pussylips and brought out your trust and desire.

“Shirt off.”

Nodding, you peeled the hem up over your stomach, and he sat up to help you wriggle it off over your shoulders. While he was at it, he pulled off your pajama bottoms and stripped to his boxers.

“Hey, I’m cold,” you whined, pouting as goosebumps began to prickle over your naked arms.

He pulled the fleece blanket off the back of the couch and covered you both with it. “I’ll keep you warm, querida,” he purred as he lowered himself over you.

A hot flush spread over your skin. You loved when he spoke Spanish—sweetly, with the vocabulary of a 1950s telenovela, and full of diminutives the way his mother used to speak it to him as a child. A well-placed querida or cielito could send shivers up your spine. It was nothing compared to the back-arching jolt a moment later when his tongue teased your nipple.

You cried out, fingers curling sharply into his hair as if his tongue carried an electric charge, unsure if you were trying to push him off or pull him closer and make sure he never stopped. As he gently sucked and your sensitive flesh pebbled into a stiff peak beneath his circling tongue, you were leaning toward the latter. Head thrown back, you gasped out his name, begging for more.

He worshiped your chest, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a playful, attentive expression, but he didn’t give you more, no matter how you clawed at the back of his scalp. His tongue worked in gentle, leisurely circles, tracing one fully before moving on to give attention to the other.

Fingers delving back between your thighs, he found your clit swollen and throbbing. You let out a startled, sobbing moan as he stroked it, your back arching, clinging to his head almost painfully tight to brace against the overwhelming sensation. If he kept touching your two most sensitive areas at the same time, you were going to come fast.

“Easy…” he soothed, sensing your agitated level of arousal. “I want to make this last. Can you be good for me and wait?”

Whimpering, you nodded and loosened your tight grip.

“Yes, Dr. Neill.”

“Good girl.”

As he languidly serviced your nipples, he dragged his fingers lower, through your folds. It still made your skin prickle with wanting, but without direct contact with your clit, you wouldn’t come as fast.

When he found your entrance with the pad of a finger, it was slick enough to press inside without resistance. You let out a delicious, tortured moan as the long digit penetrated your tight walls, opening them a little at a time.

“Fuck, you’re so warm. So wet. That’s my good girl.” He lifted his face from your chest to kiss you in praise.

Your hips writhed to push the finger deeper as you kissed him back. He was hungry to reconnect with you—to go slowly and spend as much time as he could sharing pleasure with your naked body—but you were starving. You might explode if he didn’t fuck you.

He moaned softly as your wetness swallowed more of his finger. “Feels like you’re sucking it. Trying to pull me in. You must want more.”

“Yes… please,” you whined, your hands gripping at his broad shoulders.

A second finger stretched your entrance, and he began slowly fucking you with both.

“Oh, fuck. More! Harder,” you moaned.

“You sound so desperate,” he observed casually. “Like one of my students trying to cram for a test.” Heavy-lidded bedroom eyes betrayed his desire, but he wore a cheeky grin and did not increase his pace.

Wet sounds of flesh filled the cabin, so slow it was torture. “Please, Jackson… please let me come. Please…” you begged, but he just kept watching you studiously, worshipfully, as he fingered you slowly. Enough to keep you begging, but not enough to let you finish.

He was straddling one of your legs, and his cock pressed rock-hard into your thigh. Every so often, you would feel it twitch, usually when his fingers massaged a sensitive spot inside that made you give a satisfying noise, and he could feel your pussy gripping around him. Then he would murmur, “You’re so beautiful. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Only when you were a drooling, trembling mess that could barely string two intelligible words together did he start to actively roll his hips, rubbing his erection against your leg.

“Do you want more?”

“Y-yes,” you sobbed.

He sat back on his haunches, and you wailed as his fingers slipped from your yearning wetness, leaving you so empty. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked softly, so tenderly that “fuck” sounded like the most romantic, poetic word in the English language.

“I love you,” you replied, which wasn’t technically a yes, but made Jackson’s breath catch suddenly in his throat.

“I love you, too, mi corazón.” He tugged the elastic waistband of his boxers down over his straining cock, and, taking it in his hand, notched its thick head against your entrance. His forehead rested against yours as he demanded huskily, “Now tell me you want me inside you.”

You gasped. He was so big and blunt against your tight pussy, you almost didn’t think he could fit. But you knew he could—and you knew that was why he always warmed you up so gradually, so agonizingly, so he would never hurt you. With the crown of his cock stretching your opening, the temptation of being filled by him was so close that an unbearable ache drowned out every other thought.

“I want you, Jackson. I need you.”

A thrill rushed through you as his walls came crashing down. His hips canted forward, and a pleasurable burn filled your depths as his cock stretched you open farther than seemed possible—and you watched his mind empty in that moment. All the stress and worry were gone. Nothing was on his mind but you and how good you felt wrapped around him. Nothing existed for you but him between your legs and the ragged sound of his breathing.

As if to seamlessly replace his fingers with his cock, he set the same languid pace. At first, the difference in girth was enough to make it infinitely more intense. Relief cascaded through you as your pleasure finally began to build toward a finale, heat pooling in your lower body with every thrust. Dipping his head, Jackson found a hardened nipple and sucked it until you were babbling incoherently, hips jerking to add to the depth and friction he was giving you.

“H-harder,” you whispered, and this time, he didn’t tease you.

Your pussy coated his cock with so much cream, he knew you could take all of him. Knew you were ready to snap, and so was he—so his hips pounded faster, thighs slapping your skin, heavy balls swinging against your ass.

“Yes… yes… yes…” he breathed rhythmically, chasing his climax as your arousal coated his cock and slicked your thighs.

“More,” you rasped, though your fingernails were already digging red crescents into his back, the stretch almost too much. He needed a stress release, and you wanted to be his outlet. “Let yourself go.”

A final barrier broke inside him, and he took you so quickly, it was more like jerking himself off with your body than making love. Nothing went through his mind but seeking his own release. For a moment, Even you vanished, and there was nothing but his cock surrounded and gripped by unbelievable warmth. You cried out in pleasure at the new depths he struck with reckless abandon.

His hips stuttered. “Fuck!” he gasped, fingers gripping the couch cushion as his hot seed painted your inner walls.

He panted, going still. After a few moments of catching his breath, cock twitching the remainder of its contents into you, he wiped the sheen of sweat off his brow and opened his eyes.

“You didn’t come, did you?” He gave a sheepish sigh.

“It’s OK. Sometimes it takes me too long… It was fun anyway.”

“Stop that. Whoever gave you those excuses is a fucking idiot.”

Keeping himself sheathed inside you, he reached between your bodies to stroke your clit. You gasped out, finding your body responded quickly with waves of molten heat exploding between your thighs. You were still close to finishing.

Jackson circled his hips, using his spent, tender cock while it was still hard. Though each movement was overstimulating and made his body cry out to stop, he savored the way you responded to the pressure: your eyes squeezing closed, your breath growing shallow. He lowered his mouth to your chest again, stroking your clit faster as he flicked his tongue and rocked his hips in shallow thrusts. Your moans built, louder and more strained, back arching beneath him until finally, you came, walls crashing around him, convulsing and releasing, then clenching down again as your whole body shuddered with wave after wave of ecstasy.

Jackson’s mouth popped off the bud of your nipple as a pained moan tore from his throat. His exhausted cock suffered as your pussy involuntarily tried to milk another orgasm from it, but there was a smile on his lips. A breathy laugh.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re perfect.”

You lay together for a while under the blanket. Even after you’d recovered, your shared body heat was incentive enough not to want to get up yet. The storm outside didn’t relent, and despite the warm light of a hundred flickering candles, the air inside the cabin was chilly. Soon, you would start up the fire in the rustic stone hearth, and you could stay cozy inside all day roasting marshmallows and reading books or playing board games. After a brief trip into town for supplies, that is. Besides, you would have to brave the storm to make good on your promise to slip some ice down his shirt.

For now, Jackson’s face was buried contentedly in the curve of your neck, hot puffs of breath tickling your skin. You held him in your arms, combing your fingers through his hair.

“So,” you murmured. “Enjoying our vacation yet?”

You felt him smile. “It’s everything I needed.”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

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