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trulyhblue · 9 months ago

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write the niamh **** i dare you!!!!!!! never knew i was this down bad for her until she came out in the captains armband and i was like…there’s something about this, she is confident and she is hot and respectfully i shouldn’t say any more

Back To You

Niamh Charles x Aussie! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, massive praise kink, degradation, vibrator, thigh-riding, edging, breeding kink, angst, a bit of Man U hate, semi-public themes, coarse language.

A/N — the demand for Niamhy is finally here…. I honestly don't know what came over me. Bit long, hope you enjoy!

__________________

Time after time, you had watched your girlfriend get angry on the pitch.

You had seen her push and shove, swear and tackle. Niamh wasn't an extremely violent person by any means. She could be kind, gentle, loving, and full of empathy, and in most cases, she was. She wasn't always an intolerance on the field, usually keeping the pace instead of arguing and slowing it down. She was determined, you were technical. All relationships aside, the two of you blended well on the field.

But, Niamh was many things that you weren't.

You had joined Chelsea after progressing through the United Academy. You were born in Manchester and grew up playing football. The move down to London was difficult, but you made your WSL debut in the Blues jersey, and have stayed loyal to them ever since. Unlike many of your teammates, you were very shy. You’d much rather carry the ball down the field than give a shot at goal. You liked weaving in between the midfield and opening up opportunities for your teammates rather than pursuing something for yourself. There was a joke among the Football community that you were allergic to the penalty area because you tried to avoid it at all costs.

You were on the younger side of the team as well, meaning you had less experience than some of your friends. The girls were always there to lift you up and support you, but you managed to stay under the radar, behind the inevitable spotlight.

“Ready for today, Y/L/N?” Sam asked, pulling you out of your daze as you laced your boots. The news of your skipper tearing her ACL was fresh in your mind, but her presence in the room still comforting before a game like this.

Millie was opposite you, patting your knee a few times as she chuckled. “Gonna show those reds a masterclass today, aren't ‘ya?”

You blushed at that, staring down at your boots to avoid the bashful compliments you were receiving. You didn't start often, being classed as a constant sub instead. Today, you were starting. It only made you more anxious that it was against your parent club, one that you used to stay loyal to. One that United fans still ridicule you for leaving. You were an anxious person anyway, but a sold-out stadium and a phone full of social media only fueled your apprehension more.

Your teammates knew of this stress you placed on yourself, and what others placed on you. They had told you thousands of times that Chelsea was lucky to have you, but you constantly lacked the confidence to agree with them. You wanted to prove to everyone that you were capable of exceeding expectations.

“Piss off, you two.” You heard a familiar voice snap. “Leave her alone.”

You looked up to find your girlfriend grabbing your hand, pulling you up so she could wrap her arms across your shoulders. You engulfed her usual scent and sighed in contentment, hugging her back with your arms around her waist, your head against her chest.

You heard Sam scoff, the two women giggling to each other like school girls.

“Captain Niamhy to the rescue.” Your usual skipper teased, poking your side. You yelped, and Niamh sent a glare towards Millie. Sam wobbled closer to the two of you, laughing at the blush that painted your cheeks.

“C’mon, Mils. Let's leave these two love birds by themselves.” She chuckled. “Niamhy wants to show off the armband.”

“I’ll take your crutches, Kerr.” Niamh retorted, ignoring the two women as they sauntered off, placing her attention back on you.

You had left her wandering hands, turned towards your cubby, searching your bag for a hair brush. The anticipation of the game was continuously creeping up on you, and Niamh noticed your apprehension from a mile away.

Your breath hitched when you felt your girlfriend’s hands grip your waist, her front pushing up against your arse. Her voice was softer, raspier. Your bent figure made her bend down so that her mouth was level with your ear.

“You're going make me so proud today, aren't you, Baby?”Her tone sent a shiver down your body, her hot breath fanning down your neck. “‘Gonna show everyone how good you are for me?”

You nodded, feeling your throat close at your flustered state. Your face flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson when Niamh pushed you further into your cubby, moving one of her hands down to the inside of your thigh.

“You’ve got to use your words, yeah?” She muttered, maneuvering your arse so it aligned with her front. “I want to hear you on the field today, okay? Even if I'm on the other side. Understood?”

“Yes.” You muttered.

Niamh tutted. “Yes…?”

You felt all your composure start to fizzle down to your core. “Yes, Niamh.”

“Good.”

You were about to groan before Niamh pulled you upright, tightening her grip on your waist once more before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. You threw your head back and sighed, trying desperately to compose yourself before anyone questioned you.

You followed the team out onto the pitch, not realising that Niamh’s little stunt was to take your mind off the game. You moved through shaking everyone’s hands with ease, taking your position without a second glance towards anyone.

The whistle blew, and you were off.

Chelsea were determined to prove themselves after the poor efforts of the West Ham game. People were doubting the Blues after Sam’s injury and the girls all wanted everyone to know that they were serious contestants.

You were never predictable in the midfield, despite never really moving in and out of the middle very often. You found yourself creating as many chances as possible, crossing the ball into United’s half to the best of your ability.

The constant booing from United and cheers from Chelsea were a healthy, even mix, heightening the odds of the game as it progressed. You made as many breaks as you could before you felt the air in your lungs deflate when your body hit the floor.

You were slightly winded from the tackle, needing a moment to gather yourself before making the effort to get back up. Katie Zelem was the one stalking away from you, holding in a smug grin when some of the Chelsea girls threw their hands up in contention — your girlfriend included.

You shook the exchange off, hoping Zelem thought you weren't fazed by the late challenge. The crowd spurred the game into a further frenzy, coercing both sides to exacerbate their emotions.

You strained your neck from side to side, picking up the ball that had rolled away and getting ready for your free kick. Fortunately, the penalty was within United’s half, so naturally, Chelsea banked up near the goal, waiting as you began to run. You watched as the ball was sent over the top of most of the players in the direction of Lauren near the goalpost. With a flick of her head, the girl sent the ball hurling past Mary Earps’ head, speeding over to you in celebration as the United fans were up in arms at the assist you just had.

The team surrounded the two of you, hugging each other before making the swift return back to your position. Millie and Guro made a show of patting your head. Lauren shook your shoulders while Erin jumped up and down. You searched the group for Niamh, but frowned when your girlfriend was on the other side of the field.

“What is she doing?” You asked to no one in particular, staring down Niamh as she spoke with the Ref and Zelem.

Erin shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Who cares? All you need to worry about is doing more of what you just did.”

You chuckled at the Scottish woman, using your hand to propel her away playfully. Both sides took their positions, ready to start over. United started with the ball, passing back to their defensive line before weaving it forward.

You weren't too pleased with the style of aggression that both teams were playing with, wishing that you’d walk away with a clean win and sheet. You knew from playing with most of the Manchester girls that they were taught to fight back with twice as much wrath if they were placed into a compromised position like this. Millie Turner was marking you non-stop, and Maya metres away from you at all times. You struggled to keep the ball by your feet without someone coming up behind you and snaking away quicker than it arrived. You were growing more and more irritated as the game progressed, causing you to make stupid mistakes and overthink.

Hayley Ladds sent a shot through Hannah’s hands leading into halftime. Lucia Garcia was holding onto your shirt, yanking it back in an effort to stop you from defending. You watched the Manchester girls crowd each other like your team had done at the start of the game.

You had half a mind to stomp over to the group and pull them apart, but as you looked around, you realised the rest of your team wanted to do the same. The continuous physicality of the Reds was not something you were used to. Chelsea had been dominating the league for the most part — this was not something you were expecting.

The halftime whistle blew, calling the game to a temporary halt as both teams made their way to the changing rooms.

You marched over to Hannah, patting her on the back before retrieving the ball. The girls watched you run back to the middle of the field, placing the ball in its starting position and running back. You could hear the fans screaming as your studs hit the concrete floor, yet you kept your head down to drown out your internal disappointment.

On the rare occasion that you did start, you tried your absolute hardest to keep the ball rolling. You were determined to show people that you weren't just a sub, that you were a valuable asset to the team that deserved to be a part of the starting eleven each week. Back home, you played almost every game during the World Cup with the Matildas. When Steph wasn’t Captain, it was either you or Caitlin. When Sam came back, people found out why Chelsea was lucky to have the two of you. You grew up playing alongside your Aussie teammates, so it was no wonder you moulded so well with them.

You just couldn't understand why you couldn't apply yourself here.

You were about to walk into the Changing Rooms when you heard someone call you out from behind. You turned, finding Katie Zelem walking towards you.

“Can't handle a tackle, can you?” She quipped, watching you remove your shin pads from under your socks. “Even Charles thinks so.”

“You're real cocky for fourth on the table.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “See you in the second half.”

Zelem stepped forward, scoffing. “Thats if you're not subbed off.”

You shrugged, sliding behind the door and slamming it in response. You knew Katie was saying it in the heat of the moment, but it irked you all the same. Off the pitch, you would apologise and probably trade shirts or something. Now, all you were thinking about was staying on that pitch.

The break went by fast, and you hadn't talked to anyone except for Zelem during that short time.

Guro asked if you were alright, but you shook her off. Niamh had caught onto your mood and figured it best to let you internalise what you were feeling.

Walking back onto the pitch with this newfound persistence meant for a different game. You came on wanting this win more than anyone. Despite the contrary belief of fans, people on the internet, Zelem and anyone else, you wanted to prove this to yourself.

The whistle blew, and you sprinted across towards as an attacking mid. You held out your hand when Guro got hold of the ball, darting down the wing near the edge of the field. Soon enough, the ball fell to your feet. You were expecting the cross to be quick in your feat past Toone and Garcia, moving diligently through their backline for the first time that game.

It seemed that both teams were surprised at your spur of movement. No one was used to seeing you near the goals, now all of a sudden you were on your way to scoring one. You heard Lauren beside you in the penalty box, calling for a pass, but you felt your knees give out when unknown studs hit the back of your shin. The decision of a penalty sending everyone to their feet in either disarray or ecstasy. Everyone expected you to cry out in pain when the whistle blew for contact, but you sprawled back onto your feet in a heartbeat, shoving Katie’s shoulder with so much force it nearly sent her toppling backward.

“What's wrong?” Zelem asked, swiping her shirt in order to rid the mud that had tracked her jersey. “Why the grumpy face?”

“You’re an absolute ride-off, you know that?” You spoke, keeping your eyes focused on her.

“I'm not the one always falling—”

“Oh, fuck off, Zelem!” You snapped, loud enough for the Ref to hear, as you sent another potent push towards the United Captain. A yellow was shown to both of you, leaving Katie to storm off and you to contest the card as soon as it was given.

You were about to give the woman a mouthful when someone came up behind you, grabbing the fabric of your jersey and pulling it into their waist.

You looked up to find Niamh making sure you didn't gain a red, moving you away from the scene with a knot between her eyebrows.

“Did you see her knock her over?” Niamh asked the ref, who was shaking her head at you. “She's been on her the entire game. It's been contacted, late challenges the entire time.”

The ref gave your skipper a warning look, enough for both of you to step away. “You’ve been given the penalty.” She simply put it, motioning for the shot to be taken.

You managed to leave Niamh’s grasp, leaning your hands on your hips as you waited for Guro, who was standing not far from you, to take the shot.

“What are you waiting for?” She called out. “You take it.”

It wasn't much of a shock considering you were the signified penalty taker for your National Team, but Guro’s decision still surprised you nonetheless. You found Niamh beside you still, looking at you up and down with a concealed smirk. You were undoubtedly dirty from the amount of time you spent on the floor, your hair slightly chaotic with strands falling from your face. Your cheeks were tinged a stingy red from the demand of the game, and beads of sweat framed your face.

Your appearance reminded Niamh too much of something else, causing her mind to reel at the thoughts of you lying beneath her. There was someone about you today that sent her into a frenzy. Between the two of you, it was usually Niamh who got herself in trouble with the Refs. You weren't ever the one to contest a card — even when you only had a handful — and instead you’d be the one pulling Niamh away from doing just that.

The reversed roles spurred something within the Captain as she watched her girlfriend line herself up to take the Penalty. You were searching the box for somewhere to slot it into, knowing Earps was ready to defend like her life depended on it.

The stadium went into an eerie silence as you heard the whistle mark your turn. You felt the wind propel you forward, using all your might to kick the ball as hard as you could. Watching anxiously, teething in slow motion, you felt your legs carry you across the pitch, cheering when the ball crashed against the back of the net.

Teammates were on your back instantly, hurling you to the floor, screaming amongst the fans. They shook you, congratulating you, the feeling like you had just scored your first-ever goal resurfacing. You clambered up to face the crowd, smiling as a wave of blue rose to their feet.

The game ended with Chelsea fans swarming the tunnel, fans reaching their hands down so they’d meet yours. The short circuit around the pitch was full of euphoria. Everyone was reeling at the game, and compliments were showering at the sight of your Player Of the Match award.

“Yeah, the Aussie!” Sam shouted, meeting you in the Changing Rooms with a bone-crushing hug. You laughed at the woman’s energy, letting her sway you back and forth before lifting the trophy up into the air.

Following Sam’s mischief, Millie’s arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up on the spot. “Look at you go, Missy! Making us proud today, aren't ‘ya?”

“Wasn't all me.” You mumbled, cheeks fragmented with a prominent blush as your teammates scoffed and ridiculed your modesty from around the room. To say they were proud was an understatement. Half of them had already posted for social media, Sam letting everyone know that you were a Matilda with a of you with your national flag wrapped across your shoulders and the Player of The Match Trophy, with the caption ‘a smashing Tillie’ on her story.

“I remember your first goal for Australia,” Sam said, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. You huffed, shoving her slightly.

“That was years ago, Kerr.”

Sam sighed, shaking her head. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

Your shower was a nice treat for your teething muscles, your sweats and Niamh’s jumper keeping you warm as you packed your bag and waited for Niamh to finish her media duties.

Once you saw her leaving one of the reporter’s sides, you noticed the dark tinge behind her eyes when she met yours. The smirk that aligned her face on the pitch carried itself to now, making its way across her face as she trampled over to where you stood.

Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, shovelling your head into her chest, she groaned, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed as dried hair.

“Ready to go?” you asked, hoping your girlfriend was just as eager to get back to your shared apartment as you were.

“You did so well today, baby.”

You watched Niamh break away from your shared contact, looking at her jumper hugging the curves of your figure, making it known that she’d much rather see you without it instead.

“Want to show you how proud I am.”

She threaded her fingers across the hem of your jumper, tucking her hand underneath the waistband of your trackpants, and toying with the elastic. Your breath hitched at the cold that pricked your skin, hoping Niamh was too preoccupied with her antics to notice the ache between your thighs.

“Niamhy.” You whispered, looking down at the pavement, waiting for your girlfriend to unhook her lingering hands.

“What do you want me to do, Baby? Want me to show everyone here how good you are?”

“Niamh, I—”

“Good girls get rewards, y’know?” Niamh pulled you closer, her hand moving out of your pants and over your arse, giving it a small squeeze before using her arms to lead you towards the car. “Bet you’d enjoy me fucking you for everyone to see. Show everyone who’s slut you are.”

You couldn't reply. If you did, it wouldn't be coherent. You were silent the whole way home, save for the sacred whimper that fell from your lips when Niamh’s hand squeezed your thigh, the distance of her fingers growing closer to where you needed her in each growing second. You could feel the radiation of desire emitting through the car all the way home. You were itching to feel some kind of relief, especially after the stunt your girlfriend had pulled before the game.

You forgot all about Niamh’s actions throughout the game, only remembering it when the waves of arousal moved down to your core. All you could think about was the way Niamh’s fingers ghosted your clit, teasing you with soft patterns across your legs.

When you arrived home, both of you pretty much bolted inside, dropping your bags onto the floor, only just making it to the bed when your lips met hers in an endeavoured embrace.

You let a moan leave your lips when Niamh pushed you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to swallow your unseemly noises with her tongue. The air in the room was thick as you lifted your hips, attempting to grind against her hips for some well-needed friction.

“So desperate, aren't we?” Niamh tutted, holding herself up with her arms to watch your neediness from afar. She licked her lips at the sight of you writhing beneath her. Your thighs clenched together, rubbing together in despairing need. Much to your dismay, Niamh pulled your knees apart, holding them to the bed with her own legs and a potent smile.

“Niamhy, please.” You whined, the lack of touch sending you into a new dimension of misery. Niamh crained her lips to meet your neck, finding solace in your moans when her lips found your sweet spot. She sucked and licked, rolling her tongue around the growing hickey. She held your legs open, leaving no room for friction. Your head faced the ceiling, your eyes clasped shut as you sighed at the hot marks left all over your neck. With your arms, you threaded Niamh’s hair through your hands, pushing her head deeper into your neck, bringing it down near your breasts.

“Good girls use their words, don't they?” Your girlfriend asked, peeling away from your body, leaving a cold absence behind.

You audibly moaned at the loss of contact. “I've already been a good girl. Been so good, and you said I’d get a reward.”

“Been so good for me, haven't you Babygirl?” Niamh smirked, her lips shadowing your ear, teeth nibbling the skin. “Such a good girl for scoring, aren't you? But maybe I should've bent you over during the game. Show everyone what you deserve. To have you bent over and wet for me.”

“Yes, so wet for you.” You replied, squirming as you felt your core drip with arousal. “Just want you so bad, Niamh.”

“Bet you do.” You felt one of her fingers inch up your jumper, letting the cool air nip your skin. You arched your back, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you when Niamh’s hand met your breast. “Always wanting me to fuck you senseless like you're mine.”

She fondled it slowly, flicking your nipple in between her fingers, watching your eyes roll back when she pushed down on your cleavage. “Such a good slut for me though. So ready for me always. Are you ready for me now?”

Your head seeped into the pillow, the feeling of your breasts being attended to sending you into ecstasy. “Oh— yes, Niamh. Please, so ready for you. Want you inside me so bad.”

“Let me take this off first,” Niamh muttered, stripping off your jumper hastily, groaning at the sight of your chest on full display. You moaned and wiggled at the air hitting your nipples, making them harden for Niamh’s sole exhibition. Without hesitation, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking harshly, nibbling slightly, leaving dark, heavy marks across both your breasts. Her hands groped both of them, moving them to her liking and rubbing them back and forth at varying paces. You writhed beneath her, your cheeks aflame at the sight of the marks littering your chest.

“Marking me up so good, baby.” You sighed, hoping the praise would speed up the process. “Wanna be your good girl so bad, Niamh.”

“So perfect for me.” She mumbled, her speech impaired as she was too busy marking you to lean up. “Taking me so well, aren't you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Make you so full of cum?”

Your instant agreeance made the girl chuckle. “Want you to fill me up. Wanna make my captain proud, Niamhy. Want you so bad.”

When hearing those words fall from your mouth, Niamh couldn't help but moan. She didn't know you had been turned on by her captaincy. If she had known prior, she would've brought the fucking armband home with her. She wouldn't fucked you multiple times with the band stuffed in your mouth, around her arm, or anywhere that remotely turned you on. She would've been lying if she hadn't found your unknown kink arousing, for the thriving want of tasting you grew as your sweet nothings filled the air.

Niamh pulled her head down, kissing down your abdomen and torso, looking back once more at the mess she had made over your chest before kneading your hips for some sense of relief.

“You've made me so proud, Baby.” She found the waistband of your pants once more, this time, taking her time to find the strength to pull them down. “But rewards can vary, remember? Sometimes, good girls get to choose what they want when they've made their captain proud.”

“Just want you, Niamh.” You whined, crying out when you lifted your hips for what felt like the hundredth time, only to meet nothing.

Your girlfriend hummed, inching down your pants, hoping you’d make your decision more sufficiently than that. “I'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific than that, my love. Good girls who get to choose their rewards have to use their words.”

When you didn't immediately reply, Niamh shook her head, looking towards the draw that sat by your bedside table. “I thought you said you were my good girl?”

“I am! Just want you, though.”

Niamh knew when you got like this, you just wanted to be told what to do. You were always the quieter one in every situation, introverted and kept to your own. In many ways, Niamh liked that about you. Your outgoing person today against United was something she could get used to. But she wanted to make you feel more comfortable in speaking your truth. She wanted you to know that your decision was valued among discussions. She was not sure how to implement this into everyday life just yet, but she found that during sex, even if Niamh was dominating the exchange — which nine times out of ten she was — she wanted you to have autonomy over what you did.

This was just one example among many, and when you didn't comply, she’d have different methods to get you speaking.

She waited an extra moment just in case you changed your mind before leaning towards the table and searching for something in particular.

You were so subbed out that you didn't even notice the noise until you felt Niamh pull you upright, pulling you up to stand in front of the bed while she peeled off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and training shorts.

When you noticed what she held in her hands, you groaned. “Niamhy—”

“Shut up and listen.” She ordered, her firmness overpowering the contrasted softness she once held before. You straightened up, rubbing your legs together and moaning at the basic sense of relief that flooded down to your clit.

“Take off your pants. Keep your underwear on.”

You made no argument in that, taking no time in chucking your pants in the opposite direction, leaving your tarnished, drenched underwear on show.

“Come here.” Niamh stretched her legs out and beckoned you over. “Don't sit but hover.”

You did as you were told, not entirely wanting to act like a brat after you've just been promised a reward. Your legs ached from the game and from waiting for some kind of relief, shaking ever so slightly as you waited over Niamh’s leg for further instruction.

“Here’s what's going to happen,” You felt your cheeks darken at your girlfriend's firm tone, biting your lips and watching the woman play with the vibrator in her hand.“Since you expect me to do all the work and make all the decisions, you've landed yourself here.” You nodded intently, not exactly sure where this was heading. “You've got to realise that you need to tell me what you want to do sometimes, okay? It's not always about what I want to do. You've got to want it to. Do you understand?”

Even with the sternness of her tone, her underlying motives were precious. You nodded again, your legs growing even more sore as your thighs flexed at the stretch over Niamh.

“Yes, Niamh. I promise I do.”

Your girlfriend inevitably noticed your ache but chose to continue on her rant, knowing that you knew you weren't going to go to sleep tonight unsatisfied.

“You’ll get your reward after this,” With a flick of a switch, you heard the vibrator sound from beneath where you hovered. “You're going to get off on my thigh and the vibrator without my help. All I'm going to do is watch you.”

You let out a guttural moan when Niamh placed the toy against your thigh, looking at her with the utmost displeasure when she chose to put it there instead of your clit.

“You get to come,” Niamh grabbed both of your hips, squeezing them and making sure they were up and away from any friction. “But only when you to tell me two ways you want me to fuck you tonight.”

Your jaw slightly dropped at that. You were never the one to say anything incredibly vulgar, always alluding to what you wanted through noises and actions. Niamh always got slightly annoyed when you weren't confident in what you wanted, especially after your climax when she’d cuddle up beside you and rid of all the juices that leaked from your core. Niamh knew how to please you better than anyone else could, and she knew that you knew that. In fact, she took great pride in knowing that you trusted her to get you off without needing to tell her. But it was a long time coming. You knew that Niamh wanted you to speak your truth, not just in the bedroom but everywhere. You didn't want to stand out or say something not worthwhile. You were quite content with staying under the radar.

But despite this, Niamh waited for your approval of the idea, only turning up the vibrator and placing her hands behind her head when you spoke audible clearance.

You lowered yourself onto Niamh’s thigh as soon as possible, reeling your head backwards when the vibrations made their way into your core. Your girlfriend groaned st the sight of you rubbing your heat against her, finding it difficult not to grab you and fuck you right then and there. She watched you roll your hips back and forth, letting you use the headboard for you to balance yourself with extra support. It took you a while to find a rhythm, only consistent in your movements when some of the fabric of your underwear rubbed up against your clit, making you moan out at the contact of your swollen nub. Niamh saw the vibrator appear in and out of your humps, finding herself staring at the gleaming patch of arousal coating her thigh. The toy buzzes against your thigh, aiding you in your endeavours to get off.

The flustered state and external shyness in what you were meant to say daunted you as you felt your climax approaching.

You refused to look at Niamh in hopes that she would forget about her orders and watch you cum all over her instead.

The fabric against your clit rubbed itself back and forth diligently to the extent that the combination of the vibrator, and the slick made your breathing uneven and the coil in your stomach build to higher distances. You felt your tits move as you kneaded one and pitched the other nipple, closing your eyes and imagining Niamh.

You let out a pornographic moan, euphoria almost washing over you when your core clenched around nothing and started to release. You were about to finally feel a sense of relief when hands found your hips, lifting you away from any friction whatsoever as the vibrator was switched off.

“I can do this all night, y’know.” You heard her say, scoffing when you pouted. “I know how to get off on my own. I've got the videos of you cumming all over my face to prove it.”

“I was so close.”

“You could be so close every single time,” Niamh took the vibrator away, wiping the creamy liquid that coated the toy. “But if you do it again, I’ll edge you all night until you're overstimulated and forget everything except my name. You’ll be begging to cum and you won't even think about cumming for the next month.”

“Niamh, that’s—”

She cut you off with a sudden buzz directly on your clit. Your eyes widened at the vibrator next to your nub, moaning and crying out at the instant pleasure that fell over you. Your core was already sensitive to the teasing and edging, so your senses were heightened at the feeling. You knew Niamh wasn't bluffing, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with this.

She slipped off your underwear, letting the air reach your swollen clit.

“You're going to hump my thigh with this vibrator inside of you and tell me how you want me to fuck you.” She started. “Or, every night, I tie you up and make you watch me fuck myself to videos of you for the next month.”

She lowered you back onto her thigh, smirking when you whined at the vibrator pushing its tip inside of you. The toy wasn't able to fit wholly inside of you, only having to latch onto your clit and slightly inside your hole for it to work its magic. It made you crave for Niamh’s finger to fill you up and push your prior orgasms into you. You wanted her to fill you up with her strap and fuck you into ecstasy while you screamed out her name over and over again. You remembered many nights when Niamh would coat her strap with her own cum and fuck it into you. Her phone would be propped up somewhere, showcasing the juices forced up your hole. Niamh has a photo of you doing absolutely anything.

“Niamhy, want you— want you to—”

“Tell me, sweetheart, what do you want?”

When she was away for National Camps, and you couldn't Facetime due to the time difference, you sent her a video of you fingering yourself while whining about how much you missed her fingers.

“Want you to fill me— with your fingers-”

“Gonna make sure you're full of me, baby.”

She had a video of you getting yourself off with her watching. She had photos of you in all types of positions. She had an album of you screaming her name, calling her everything under the sun, cause she told you to and you always complied.

“Your mouth— your strap, Niamhy, want your dick inside me so bad.”

“Pound into until you're subbed out, am I?”

You remember watching a video of you riding her strap with her England Jersey on, bouncing up and down on the toy with your tits bobbing in front of the camera.

“Want to ride you like now. Eat me— eat me out, Niamhy, baby.”

“Fuck, baby, say my name.”

You knew that if you didn't comply, Niamh had plenty of things to keep her occupied.

The vibrator rolled inside of you, sending your back arching and heat throbbing. “Niamh, baby, I’m— fuck! I'm so close!”

Niamh was flushed, encaptured by the visual show of your tits and the way you bounced on her thigh so that the vibrator would dig its way into your core.

“Come for me, baby.” She spoke, jolting her knee so that the pressure in between your thighs would double.

You screamed, letting out the loudest of moans, as you felt your come coat the vibrator entirely, leaking all over Niamh’s thigh and yours.

“Such a good girl for me, aren't you gorgeous.” Niamh’s voice was raspy and hoarse. “Ride it out for me, baby. Yeah— just like that.” Her grip on your hips sent your orgasm out as she moved your hips back and forth until it was too much.

You moved to the side, collapsing so that your back was against the bed.

Niamh climbed on top of you, a devilish, content smirk lining her lips.

“We’re not done yet, love.”

You whined, but internally, you were excited for the night you were about to have.

_______________________

A/N — oh my god.

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