#she has the filthiest mouth you ever did hear

[achaotichuman]

ACOTAR Ramble

Tbh I think it's a lot more fun to imagine that Rhysand's younger sister is just a few years younger than him and is just batshit fucking crazy.

Like she's smart asf, if the power is gonna pass to anyone, out of Rhysand and her, it's gonna be her, but also if you let her into the Dawn Court, she'd try to sell them the very first concept of the modern day machine gun. Not for any beneficial reason, she just wants it.

And don't try to water her psycho down, this bitch is only helping you if it benefits her directly.

All the female villains are sex offenders because the author's a misogynist, get me a real villain who would do horribly heinous things if given the slightest taste of power.

Why does she do this? Chronic daddy and mommy issues, obviously.

Her mom doesn't give her any ounce of love and scrutinizes every moves she makes, because she's a #boymom and her dad hates her for being a woman, so she's just been plotting revenge every night since she was five, I can only assume.

She's Nesta in reverse, she's Nesta if Nesta let the lack of affection from her guardians, and her parents taking advantage of her and her body, turn her into a wannabe all-powerful God. Her brother taught her a thing or too, but she also just took the ball and ran with it.

Also do not tell me this woman did not kick scream bite and claw her way into being allowed to train. Her dad only let her because he was sick and tired of the death threats and sloppy assassination attempts.

Her mom did not approve in the absolute slightest. And her daughter did not care what her mother thought.

Like come on people, you're totally missing out on this train wreck of a hot gothic villainess who will fuck you up for funzies. She's only a train wreck, because she has zero impulse control, and that makes the whole lying in wait part of the evil villain plans real difficult.

Probably would have killed Amarantha, just to take her place. Would have killed Hybern while she was at it, just cause she got sick of having the idea of answering to someone.

Death won't stop this motherfucker, she will be crawling out of the grave and haunting the narrative like a clingy ex who won't stop 'finding your things' at their house and inviting you over to come get them. Only, she's not filling Tamlin with guilt and remorse and self-loathing for helping to be the cause of her death, she's more the Devil on his shoulder, and with every horrific idea she tries to sell to him, he is more and more relieved that she is not physically present, so as to enact them herself.

Anyway, I support her and all of her wrongs. There's no "she could do no wrong in my eyes" here, she worked damn hard to get as low into Hell as she is.

[darnell-la]

how about old!logan with the filthiest mouth one could ever speak, full with nasty and degrading pet names. just rough and mean logan treating the reader 🫠🫠

note: this takes place in the Honda Odyssey… we can make the man filthier by the way…

———

“Well, you guys are fucking stupid, so, it’s not a surprise we’re lost,” y/n crossed her arms in the back seat as Wade drove through the woods, trying to get to the place Nicepool had me roomed for them to form a team.

“You ain’t the smartest sheep either. Batting your fuckin’ eyelids at Jonny,” Logan scoffed next to her before leaning back in his to rest.

After Wade had told him that there might not be a way to save his world, he’s been in a bad mood. Ever since she met him, he’s been in a bad mood.

“Yeah, but sadly he’s not here with us, right Wade?” Y/n sarcastically asked, making Wade sigh loudly. “He should have said those things about her!” Wade shouted.

“This whole trip is fucking ridiculous. Like seriously, Wade. Why the fuck did you bring me along to save this drunk fuck!?” Y/n complained, making Logan chuckle.

“To save your shitty world,” Logan said under his breath. “Hey! That’s my world too!” Wade argued. “Yeah — That’s why I said that shit,”

“Not like yours is better,” y/n mumbled, making Logan snap his head towards her. Y/n continued looking out of the window, not caring how he felt about her words.

“The fuck you say?” The man asked in a clearly angry tone. “Alright, let’s just cool our dicks and think about a place to eat at after we get out of this shit hole, hm?” Wade asked the two, but they both ignored him.

“Nah, I wanna hear what the little bitch has to say,” Logan called the young lady out of her name, making her snap his own neck at him. “Bitch!? No wonder you could never keep a woman. In every universe!” She shot for his heart.

“That’s something you don’t have to worry about because Ian pickin’ a little brat like you,” Logan tried saying something back in an instant like her comment didn’t hurt. He knew calling her out of her name was shitty, but he’s going through it right now.

The man was pulled from his universe being told he had a chance to save it. Not even two hours later, he was told it was an educated wish.

“Not like you can get in my pants anyways limp dick,” y/n spat, making the man chuckle. He was cocky. He always has been, and his age wasn’t going to throw that away.

“You’re an easy little girl. You would even be able to handle me,” the man looked the girl up and down, giving a look that made her roll her eyes. “You fuckin’ wish,” she said before turning back to the window.

“Oh, honey bun, he does! Maybe y’all can fuck it out in here before we make it home. Got a long way to go,” Wade almost sang.

The two went silent, not declining or accepting. They were just angry, and Wade swore having a small fuck-session would help.

Y/n felt eyes on her through the silence. She told herself not to look back, but she had to. She wanted to see the man’s face, and god, was he fine. She hated admitting to it, but he was.

The way he looked at her legs, made her shift in her seat, growing nervous from the older man’s gaze.

“As I said — Little girl can’t handle it,” Logan finally looked up at the girl with a smirk, smelling the way she grew wet in seconds, and she didn’t know he could. She was clueless which made the situation funnier to him.

“I can handle more than you think. Your dick probably wouldn’t be able to stand up anyway, so stop lookin’ at me like that you perv,” y/n tried covering her legs, but there was no use.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” the man rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. “Do it yourself, coward,” y/n said under her breath. She thought she was quiet enough until his head snapped back at her and Wade gasped.

“Oh, you nasty little peanut,” Wade giggled. “Oh, you want me to fuck you?” Logan asked, giving that stupid smirk again. “What!? I never said that,” y/n lied, trying to think of something to stop this conversation.

“Oh, but you did, bub,” Logan felt like he was shifting closer, but y/n kept her eyes off of him. “Don’t go silent on me now, bub. If you need a little cock to fix that attitude, I can do it,”

The instant confidence he had, made the girl nervous. What the fuck is she going to do?

“Don’t need cock,” the girl spoke quietly. “I think you do,” the man’s hand was now on the grips thighs, gripping it a bit rough to get a reaction.

Y/n turned and swung, going to hit the man somewhere, but he got her fist and pushed it away before hovering over her body.

“You’re feisty for a girl who’s soaking wet,” the man said, confusing y/n. “You can smell her that bad!?” Wade asked, wanting to know if all. “Oh, yeah, and she smells sweet,” Logan admitted as his hands tugged on her belt.

“Let’s see if I’m right,” Logan ripped y/n’s belt off and shorts down her legs, exposing her pretty lace panties. “Logan! Fuckin’ get off!” Y/n fought back, but he knew she could do better.

“You sure? Kinda looks a little messy down here,” the man laughed at her girl as he spews her legs, seeing the dark spot grow. Before she could say another word, he ripped her panties off, making her yell at him more.

“Pretty little cunt. Maybe if you weren’t so bitchy, I’d eat it, but I have different plans for you today,” Logan wiped a finger across her lips before taking them to his mouth to suck.

“Yep — Sweeter than peach, Wade. Didn’t know you had sluts as friends,” Logan laughed again as he fumbled with his own belt. “Logan!” Y/n still shouted, kicking and slapping but he had his single hand pinning her shoulder down.

“Look on the bright side, peanut — You’ll get some dick and maybe that’ll energize you for our fight?” Wade said about anything to hide the fact he loved hearing Logan get the way he gets.

“Fuck you, Wade!” Y/n yelled at the man. “Nah uh, only I do that to you,” y/n almost forgot about Logan until she looked down, seeing his cock out in his head, stoking and leaking pre cum.

“Got me so fuckin’ hard. You know how good you look fighting? How pretty you are yappin’ that damn mouth? Could only think about you under me -- where you belong,”

Logan struggled but made his way in between her legs. “Fuck you! Fuck you, a-and Wade! You’ll last two seconds,” y/n tried laughing at the man to seem tough as usual, but he shut her right up with a hard thrust into her cunt.

“What was that? Two seconds? If I lasted a short time, it’s because this cunts so fuckin’ soaked, not because I’m old, baby,”

Y/n’s hands pushed at the man’s stomach, trying to slow him down and stop him from pushing hitting the right spot with each thrust he gave.

“S-Stop!” The girl whined already, feeling the knot in her stomach build and her breathing get spotty. He was huge and hard. Harder than she thought a man his age could be.

“Don’t think you want that, baby. No, you want me to fuck this pretty little girl till she cried and leaks on the seat,” Logan whispered in her ear as his own breath became heavy.

“God, you guys are hot. Love the play date you guys are having! Maybe give me a review after the Uber ride. Tell me if the seats felt comfy and if y’all had enough room to fuck like rabbits with rabies,” Wade seemed excited.

“Hear that, babe? Gonna tell Wade how good I fuck this pussy? C’mon, tell him. Tell him how hard your squeeze my cock,”

Y/n hated his cock voice in her ear but loved it at the same time. He knew exactly how she’d like it. Maybe by her attitude, he knew she needed someone with the same energy to pound her.

“No c-chance,” the girl stuttered through her teeth as she tried glaring at the man, but her head instantly fell back after he gave one small pound, telling her to get rid of the attitude.

“You’re gonna do it eventually. Sluts like you can’t forget a good cock,” and he was right. This was going to be the best sed she’s had ever.

“Gonna go beggin’ Wade to come get me to fuck you. Shit, since I have to stay in the bullshit you call your world, I’ll just come over to your place myself. Burry my cock in this cunt till you pass out,”

“L-Logan,” y/n dug her nails into the man’s shoulders, trying to hold tight as her orgasm felt near. “Oh, you like that? Like the thought of a dirty old man fuckin’ this so-called clean pussy, hm? Gonna let me breed this little princess whenever I want? Even if I piss you off?”

“N-No, you fucking suck at this!” Y/n breathed heavily, keeping her orgasm together so she wouldn’t give him what she wanted.

“God, she’s fuckin’ petty,” Wade said as Logan let out a little chuckle. The man shifted in the van, lifting her legs over his shoulders before punching his right claw into the roof of the van.

Y/n jumped, not used to having a mutant like him around. “Don’t worry, princess. I wouldn’t hurt a pretty girl like you. Too valuable and tight,” Logan grabbed between the back of y/n’s head and neck to lift her to, fixing her to lean into him.

“Before I fuck you ass dumb, do you want to take anything you said back?” Logan looked down at the girl whose legs rested on his shoulder and cock grazed her entrance, waiting to be squeezed again.

“You fuck like a dead pig,” y/n spat. Right after, the man took one good slam into her, watching her legs part and scream. Logan pulled her head back up, making her look into his dark eyes.

“Loudmouth for a loud screamer,” the man smirked before moving his hips, thrusting into the girl with all the strength he had. He pulled her back to life whenever she tried pushing away or leaning her head back.

“Good fuckin’ pussy — Fuck! — Maybe I’ll excuse that bitch tone of yours,” the man couldn’t deny his could she felt and sounded.

Before, y/n thought she could hold herself in, but she knew Logan would get what he wanted in this new angle and harder pounding. He knew this from the start.

“C’mon, bub — I know you wanna cum. Keep squeezing around me like I wouldn’t notice,” he laughed at her. Teasing he. “N-Not cumming,” y/n assured the man, but even Wade didn’t believe her.

“I can see how the man has you in a full-on butter-salted pretzel position. You’re cumming, peanut,” Wade said, only egging Logan on knowing anyone who looked at her right now could tell she was close.

“No, I’m not!” Y/n pathetically whined. Logan leaned down to the girl's face, slightly touching her lips as his hot breath burned her nostrils.

“Don’t cum then, bub,” Logan said as he picked up his pace. “Don’t cum, and you win. You win your little bitch fight, and we can move on with our day,” Logan kept increasing.

“Don’t cum, and you’re right about my limp old dick,” Logan now growled. “Don’t cum, and I won’t come into your little home and eat that pussy,” y/n eyes rolled back as his hands dug into the back of her neck.

“Don’t cum, and I won’t fuck you like this every day to satisfy your needs, baby. Don’t cum, and I’ll have to leave this pretty little body alone forever,”

“Can’t breed it. Can’t kiss it. Can’t pound it. Can’t do anything I want to it,” y/n whined loudly at the man’s words, finally releasing the man’s cock.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You need me. You fuckin’ want this old dick,” Logan’s lips crashed into her, kissing her roughly as she cried at the pace he kept ducking her in.

“Goddam, she cums a lot!” Wade said with excitement, loving the animal coming out of Logan. He knew y/n needed something like this in his life. That totally isn’t the reason why he brought her along.

“So fuckin’ good, baby. Best fuckin’ cunt I’ve fucked. So damn tight and sweet. Need you after all this. Needa have you with me forever,”

Y/n didn’t plan for this to happen. She doesn’t plan to let Logan fuck her like this in the back of Nicepools Honda Odyssey. She didn’t plan for Logan to form an attachment issue with her.

“Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill this girl up. Gonna keep you with me forever. Can’t leave. Don’t care how old I am, you belong with me. You’re made for me. Pussy’s molded to only take my cock,”

Logan’s hips bucked a few times before he pushed all the way into the young girl, spilling into her with a loud animalistic groan.

The top of the roof was ripped with how many times his claws punched in and out of it. Logan’s fingers bruised the back of y/n’s neck. Her lips even have a small scratch from the hard he kissed. She tastes so fucking good.

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader x Roman Reigns 🖤 Summary: Reader has been sleeping with both Damian and Roman Reigns, confident they’re ignorant of one another. After being invited to Damian's hotel room late one night, she discovers he’s not the only one she’s there to entertain. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v/a, anal, double penetration, praise, Daddy kink, name-calling, cum 18+ 🖤 Taglist: In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: @bearbutlikeprincessbear. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST

When she first began sleeping with Roman Reigns, she never expected, had any interest, or even needed to seek out other suitors. Until Damian Priest came along at the club, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her to the dance floor where their bodies moved in synchronicity, their skin perspired, and he whispered the absolute filthiest things in her ear as she was grinding her hips into his. And so while entertaining Roman, she made the easy decision to also see Damian on the side. Nothing wrong with it—none of them were attached and none of them were interested in long-term relationships—so she never foresaw any issues, considering the Tribal Chief was on one brand and the Archer of Infamy was on another, which would give them no reason to ever cross paths. Unfortunately for her, she’d been so blinded by the all the fucking, she’d failed to consider the paid live events.

And so here she was, on her knees and elbows on a generic hotel bed with generic, scratchy hotel blankets under her. Her baby pink blazer and white satin tank top were heaps on the floor, matching mini-skirt bunched around her waist, panties in tatters around her thighs. Damian’s long cock buried itself in her tight cunt every few seconds, the momentum shoving her forward and impaling her throat further on Roman’s spit-covered, thick cock. She gagged, body convulsing, but she purred from the intrusion—on both ends—as her eyes rolled back and her cheeks hollowed.

“Fuck,” Damian wailed, hands vices on her hips. “Every time she gags, her cunt fuckin’ milks my dick.”

“You hear that, baby girl?” Roman rumbled. He was seated in front of her, back against the headboard, legs spread lewdly, a woman receiving the pounding of the century from behind slobbering all over his cock. She tilted her head so she could comfortably look up at him. “He likes it when you gag almost as much as I do.” Both his hands cradled the back of her skull as he pushed her down on his length once more, her entire being again contracting, and suddenly Damian wasn’t inside her anymore and she felt abandoned and empty and a little fucking pissed off. 

“Uh-uh,” the Puerto Rican refused. She pulled off Roman’s dick, however reluctantly, and glanced over her shoulder. Damian had backed up several steps and he had a hand virtually strangling his polished-with-pussy-juices cock. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”

Roman tenderly cupped her chin between his fingers and turned her face back to him. “You ready?”

She cast her gaze down at Roman’s weeping, rigid cock as he stroked it with a loose fist, and she bucked her hips and clenched her pussy around nothing. Roman’s chuckle was like thunder in the distance, and it did nothing to suppress her agitation or prevent the baby pterodactyls in her stomach from taking flight. She had no idea what awaited her, having never experienced before what was about to happen, but she couldn’t deny how bad she wanted to at least try it … to at least attempt to get both these impressive cocks inside her ass and pussy at the same time. And she couldn’t think of two better men to experience it with. Her blown pupils slowly lifted to meet Roman’s.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Good,” Roman replied, before the declaration was even completely out of her mouth. He leaned forward so his fleshy lips grazed hers as he finished, “Because it’s this dick right here that’s goin’ in that ass.” He wiggled his cock for good measure, and it wasn’t very quiet when she gulped.

The men were fluid as they moved about the room, as if they’d practiced, as if maybe they’d done this before. Heading off any thoughts in that particular direction, she smiled as she climbed atop Damian. His grip was once again on her hips, and her hips throbbed and she might’ve winced a time or two when he squeezed, but she knew this pain paled in comparison to the new kind of pain that was in her immediate future. She sank torturously slowly onto his cock, her soaking pussy sucking him in deep much like her throat had with Roman’s dick.

“There she is,” Damian breathed, fingers gliding from her hip, tickling her belly, scraping a nipple barely peeking above the cup of the bra she still curiously wore, ending their journey at the back of her neck. He pulled her lips to his, capturing them, imprisoning them with his expert technique and unmatched ability to be both delicate and voracious simultaneously. A cold trickle slipped down the crack of her ass, her body froze, and she severed the kiss. Damian was quick to cradle her face and focus her attention on him and not the pain and discomfort about to befall her. Maybe you should stop thinking about it that way. Maybe it’s gonna feel amazing. It’s Damian and Roman, after all. “If you don’t wanna do this, we can stop right now,” Damian whispered, the tips of their noses kissing.

She gazed into his smoldering eyes, easily finding comfort and true sincerity, and her hand floated to his cheek. “I wanna do this,” she murmured.

Damian once more claimed her mouth while Roman’s finger circled her puckered hole, and it tickled and it was a little weird, but then it felt … good. Incredibly erotic, and her pussy gushed around Damian’s cock. He pumped in and out of her slowly, occupying her mouth and tongue, and before she knew it, Roman had three fingers buried in her asshole, and she was virtually screaming down Damian’s throat, rocking her hips to ride both his dick and Roman’s digits.

“Oh, your ass is ready for this cock, ain’t it?” Roman teased, easing his fingers out of her so he could slap her ass cheek with his length. “Cute little tattoo,” he uttered, now rubbing the leaking head along her sensitive skin, and she knew exactly where he was spreading his precum. She’d never even imagined a scenario where Roman and Damian randomly met at the hotel bar, shared a few drinks, and then a few stories about the women they were sleeping with only to discover those women had the exact same tattoo in the exact same spot, but here they were. “Let’s find out if it’s true, huh?” That hadn’t been the meaning behind the beautiful red script spelling out the word paradise on her right cheek, but she supposed it did seem appropriate now. She hoped, anyway.

She felt the fleshy head of his cock poke at her entrance and her hand left Damian’s face to instead dig her nails into his chest. She felt blood before she was without warning hauled backward, shoulders slamming into Roman’s sturdy chest, and she cried out as he slipped further into her passage. Roman was a true dominant, in and out of the ring, in and out of the bedroom, so it wasn’t very far fetched for her to expect to be degraded, at least a little, for not immediately being able to take his length, or for whining in pain as he pressed another inch inside her. His tattooed arm came into view, fingers applying surprisingly gentle pressure on her chin until she turned to him.

“You’re takin’ me so good,” he praised. Her eyes lifted, full of renewed hope,  determination, and pride. Compliments in a non-derisive way were few and far between, and she intended to bathe in the accolades for as long as possible. “I know it hurts, baby girl, but you’re a fuckin’ champion. You hear me? Our champion.” Her heart swelled and her fingers unconsciously slid down her body and directly into her dripping folds where she found her clit and, just a little further inward, the base of Damian’s glazed cock, the rest of which was still stuffed deeply inside her cunt. Damian grunted and squirmed, and her smile was drunk as she stared blankly at her Tribal Chief, hypnotized by Roman’s unusual softness. “See, that was nothin’.”

Snapping out of her reverie, she was overwhelmed by the sensation of being utterly full. Roman had genuinely mesmerized her with his words, with the bottomless pits that were his eyes, and he’d sheathed himself to the hilt in her ass without her noticing. Now fully aware, however, the burning returned, the splitting, and she whimpered, clawing at Roman’s arm now. Easily noticing her stress, Damian untangled her from the Samoan’s embrace and pulled her back down to him, cradling the back of her head and splaying a hand across her upper back.

“Right here,” he rumbled into her gaping mouth, “stay right here with Papi. You hear me?”

She nodded, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Damian’s soulful ones, and her lips collided with his before she knew it. He was her comfort, her weighted blanket, her favorite teddy bear, and the spell he cast on her through his lingering lips kept her mind occupied as Roman gripped her hips, pulled out, and shoved himself back in as if he were fucking her pussy. It hurt, bordering on agonizing, but Damian’s mouth was so perfect and gifted that it hurt just a little bit less, the three of them going on like this until she’d fully accepted Roman with an amount of pain that was both uncomfortable and pleasurable. 

“You love this, don’t you?” Roman panted. When she gave no answer, he snatched her hair and yanked, her lips releasing Damian’s with a wet smack.

“Yes, Daddy, I love it,” she breathed.

“Yeah, you do,” Roman mumbled. “Show me. Ride these dicks like the whore you are.”

Hands on the bed on either side of Damian, she rose until her elbows locked. Damian’s hands were coarse and callused as they traveled the invisible roads of her upper body, and she smiled down at him as she began gently rocking her hips, drawing the cocks within her ass and pussy as deep inside her as possible before releasing them to the cold air surrounding them, repeating the process until she couldn’t bounce fast enough on them. 

“That’s it,” Damian moaned, “just like that.”

“Shit, all you need is a cock for this mouth, huh?” Roman mocked, giant hand wrapping around her throat. “What you think about that, Priest? Plug up all this bitch’s holes.”

“Fuck,” Damian muttered, pinching and tugging at her nipples.

She screamed, jaw dropping, and Roman’s hand was swift in making the relocation from her neck to her face, long fingers dipping inside her mouth. Her lips automatically closed around his digits and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked because what else is a girl supposed to do when Roman Reigns sticks his fingers in her mouth?

Time went on, doused in a mixture of sweat, screams, desire, and the fundamental need to cum. Roman lost control first, hand between her shoulder blades, shoving her chest into Damian’s, and he leaned forward, most of his weight now on her hips and ass as he fucked into her recklessly. He cried out—she thought he was speaking Samoan, but she couldn’t be sure—releasing himself inside her, and his pumps became slower and less powerful until he pulled out altogether, slapping her tattoo once more with his softening dick.

“Y’all can … take care of that, right?” He had to be referring to the mess he’d just made that would eventually come leaking out of her. “I got somewhere to be.”

The relief alone she felt when only Damian was buried within her nearly sent her head first into an orgasm. It had been a wild moment, an experience she could check off her bucket list, but she’d be lying if she denied feeling a bit stressed at the thought of being responsible for pleasing two men. Of course it was a hot idea, but realistically, the logistics were a bit more muddled than she cared to deal with again. And, though she would never admit this to anyone, especially the two men involved, she preferred Damian and his attentiveness and his kindness and the gentle fucking he was famous for. Roman was the choice when she needed to be used or slapped around. Damian was the choice for everything else.

“We’ll take care of it,” Damian mumbled, and she smiled just as he seized her lips once more. 

She hardly registered the hotel room door opening and closing, Damian flipping their positions smoothly, putting her on her back and settling between her sticky thighs. Her hands glided reverently up his chest, squeezing his shoulders, continuing to his face.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, taking her hands off him one after the other, imprisoning them between his hands and the mattress on either side of her head, his grip secure, though not constricting.

“Yeah,” she purred, rolling her hips in an attempt to find some friction, and Damian grinned at her desperation. 

“But you need your special time with Papi, hmm?”

“I always need my special time with Papi.”

Finally he started fucking her, lazily at first, gradually picking up speed. She suddenly felt Roman’s warm cum begin leaking out of her ass and into a puddle on the bed, Damian’s thrusts now coming with a wet smack every time he slammed into her. She gasped, lips parting, pussy pulsating around Damian’s solid length, breasts bouncing, and she came with a wail she would be embarrassed over later. Her hands were fists as they wanted nothing more than to touch Damian, feel him, run her fingers through his hair, but he refused to release her until after he’d filled yet another one of her holes with sticky cream.

“You’re a mess,” Damian grinned, climbing out of bed. She couldn’t help the satiated smile and stretch as she watched Damian disappear into the bathroom, assuming he was on a mission to retrieve a wet washcloth. They were gonna need more than that, she thought, just as she heard the water in the tub come to life, and her smile nearly broke her mouth. “Now let’s get you cleaned up,” Damian returned, clapping his hands and holding them out. She rolled her eyes, moving into a sitting position, but Damian suddenly scooped her into his capable arms, tossing her an inch or two in the air to get a better grip. “I don’t think it’s big enough for both of us, but …”

“I guess you’ll just have to wash me from outside the tub then,” she sighed.

Damian kissed her forehead. “My pleasure.”

[matchadobo]

KIDD; overheard

wc: 2768

summary: kidd overhead virgin!freader moaning out his name

warning/s: nsfw🔞, fem reader, v1brators, first-time-s3x, cooming inside, cunnilingus, thr0at fucking, fluff in the end

you never had sex. you're a virgin. and kidd respects that. kidd had been courting you because you insist on doing it the traditional way. he just likes you so much he does sacrifices for you. he's not the type of guy who'd go through such lengths for a girl, but with you, man he'd do anything to let him love you.

you wouldn't expect that a man of his stature wouldn't talk you into having sex when you two started getting romantically involved. kidd was, of course, not a virgin. a man like him, who's built like a fucking fridge, who's tongue brings him so many places, who's charisma is unparalleled, and his overflowing sex appeal. you admit that your boyfriend is hot, and you want to know what i feels to bed him someday. he's perfectly aware of your situation and he gaves you free reign of your sexual status, he never forces you to go all the way. it's just all about touching between the both of you.

it's mostly on kidd's end when we talk about containing it. especially when you don't fix up yourself around him on domestic days. or when you don a pretty little dress.

you'd be fooling yourself if you don't wanna do more than touching and kissing with him. each time he takes his shirt off and his happy trail shows. how his muscles flex when he's reaching over something high or hugging you. you can't help but be curious of how it'd feel if he have his way with you.

so that one night where curiosity won over you, you decided to buy a vibrator since you can't find it in you to ask the guy that's been courting you and you who has been constantly insisting on taking things slow. once you're all alone, you discarded your clothes and lied on his bed. you were staying with him for the night. you could've done it in your place but, the scent of his cologne on his sheets and the sight of his things made you more aroused.

as you spread yourself on the bed, you don't know the first thing about vibrators. all you knew was how badly you wanted him, how you imagine him doing the stimulation and not this expensive fucking vibrating rod. as you felt the splurge of pleasure, you were out of this world. your eyes rolled at the back of your head and your mouth muttered his name with the filthiest intent.

little did you know, kidd was on his way back to his place. he just got off the elevator and is walking toward his unit with a handful of takeout for your date night. he was exhausted from work today and all he wanted to do was come home to you and feel you. not fully aware of your act.

"y'all fuck yet?" heat asked over the phone. kidd tsked through the call.

"if that's what the hell you're gonna talk about i'll block you." he almost hit the end call if it weren't for killer taking over.

"listen, we're just iffy about this courting thing. you always start your relationships with fucking or something." killer calmly retorted. "plus, it's been three months and you two are kind of a blur, aye? don't you think it's time to take a step much higher?"

"let me tell you freaks somethin': name is the most precious angel that ever crossed this earth, ya hear me? she ain't some whore i chase to keep my cock warm. i want to have somethin' special with her, cuz hey, she's one special lady herself." he took a deep breath before continuing, fishing out his keycard from his wallet. "ain't it enough reason to wait it out? i imagine sex with her like a good ol' scotch, aye? longer you wait, tastier it gets. i know she couldn't resist me either, the way those eyes linger ain't a wholesome thing. all the more reason the sex'll be so fuckin' sweet once she's ready." he emphasized on the last three words.

you were too lost in the glee of the stimulation, you didn't even hear the beep of his door as he got inside. as kidd settled his stuff down and calmed down by his couch, he started to wonder where you are. he roamed around his unit to find you, only to hear faint noises of your voices. they sounded like whimpers so he started getting worried and hurried to find where the sound was coming from.

he felt his dick tighten in his pants when he heard you moaning out his name loud and clear. his grasp on the plastic bag carrying your food tightened, he swallowed a hard lump down his throat. he couldn't resist barging in on you.

he would nut right then and there. when he saw you wide open right before him, you reached your climax just as he went in. your scream resounding in the room. so you sat frozen with your legs spread, one hand on the vibrator while the other played with your tits. you stopped immediately and hid yourself under his sheets, your face flushed red in sheer embarrassment. "w-what the hell?! i-i- what the fuck are you doing here, kidd?!"

he sighed before saying, "in case you didn't know; this is my room," he pulled his shirt over his head, walking a step closer to you. "and you're naked," he unbuckled his belt, getting even closer to you. "wide open." he kicked his pants away the floor, crawling by the bed. "moaning my name unbefitting of a cute little thing such as yourself." he pulled the sheets you were covering yourself with. "this much is fuckin' rich coming from someone who insists on taking it slow. your words bit you back in the ass, aye?"

you were flushed red at his proximity, your eyes shakily alternating between his. "i-i wasn't..."

"wasn't what? fucking yourself with that thing and imagining i was ramming into you?" he cocked a brow, canines tugging by his lower lip. "baby, hadn't i told you that you can just tell me if you wanna give it a go? i'm more than happy to teach ya," he gave your cheeks a soft caress.

his big hands trailed down your jaw, fingers tracing the edge of your face, down to the column of your neck until he wrapped his hands around your it and pulled you closer. eliciting a moan out of you, his grin widening. "aren't you a filthy, little slut too?"

he kissed you on your open mouth, the grip on your neck tightening. "what were you thinking about, hm?" he pressed the vibrator closer to your clit after flicking the button on. "was i too hot for you? you want me to fuck you up so bad, huh? stretch this tight, little thing wide, fucking, open." he pressed foreheads with you after licking your lips.

all you could do was pout and curl up your brows, your eyes rolling at the back of your head as you didn't even know what kind of high you're in right now. "nghh- kidd- please...!" you bit your lip, clawing at his arms.

"please what? i can stop." he gently whispered against your ear. "i can take care of mine just fine you know." he gestured to his bulging length underneath his brief. you felt yourself choke at the act, imagining how he'd be like.

"n-no!" you responded, squirming under him. he hasn't discarded the vibrator but only made it even more extreme. "k-keep going... i-i want to go all the way, okay?"

"aye." he nodded, giving you a long, wet kiss before turning the vibrator off. he ducked his head down and placed soft, gentle kisses on your inner thighs, teasing your sopping cunt by his stippled pecks. "ready?" he stared at you, his hot breath tickling your folds. you nodded with pressed lips, bracing yourself with his tongue.

he languidly dragged his tongue down the line of your folds, not breaking eye contact as he watch you squirm with only just his tongue. how you sound so much like a slut just for him. he pulled your hips closer, drowning his face within your opening and the flesh of your thighs. he hummed through you as a response to your moans, vibrations pumping through your veins. he took it a notch higher and slid a finger in. you were becoming limp at this point.

but you wanted to please him too, you want to help him with that tent in his pants. so once you pushed his head deeper and you pulled on his hair, you came in his mouth. he sipped in your juices, slurping in your cum.

"c-can i please you too?" you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"i was just about to say that." he stood up on the bed, holding your jaw by his hands. "go ahead, love."

you hesitantly raise your hands, still looking at him. your fingers crept on his waistbands, sliding them off. his pulsating length sprung out, dripping with precum. you couldn't help but act surprise at the size of him even though you already know that he's phenomenally huge. he would already cum right then and there when he saw the enormous difference between the size of him to your face, how your eyes try to fathom how you'd fit that in your mouth and in your cunt.

you start to wrap your cold fingers around him, a gasp escaping him at your contact. you pumped unsurely, from his flushed head down to his veiny shaft. you opened your mouth and gave a kitten lick by his head, keeping an eye on him before swallowing him whole. he was so huge you gagged when you were just by the half of him.

his hands found its way to the sides of your head as he pushed his length further in your throat, relishing on the warmth of your mouth. you dug your nails by the skin of his hips, eyes watering at the impact of the head of his length touching the back of your throat. he grunted as he tried to restrain himself to let you adjust.

once you let go with a pop, strings of saliva trailed from his head to your lips. there were scattered drools on your lips, you wiped it with the back of your palm. "w-wait, i- you're too big." you giggled shyly, tucking your hair by your ear.

"yeah? sure you can handle it?" he rubbed your chin between his thumb and index, studying your expressions. "i assure you, it will be a lot fucking bigger inside you."

you gulped deeply, face heating up. so you cleared your throat, and prepped yourself to do it once more. you slowly got used to bobbing your head back and forth, the friction of your lips gliding across the surface of his veiny length. as your saliva coated his shaft, it became more slippery and easier to slide in your mouth.

kidd was cursing out words each time his cock slipped in and out of your mouth. he pushed himself further, despite your protests of drumming his hips. he pulled on your hair tightly, fucking your mouth in an unforgiving pace. once he came in your mouth, he left it there for a while, his cum dripping down your throat. you had to catch your breath as residue of cum and drool littered your chin.

he sat down before you,"for a beginner, you're goddamn amazing." he placed a kiss on your forehead then to you lips. as he kissed you fervently; his hands went from choking your neck, squeezing your tits with his palms, and rubbing on your clit as he spread your wetness from your cunt to your inner thighs. "let me spread you up for the finale." he mumbled against your open mouth which elicited breathy moans. his thigh and shoulder provided support for your frame as he fingered you open.

your hand reached over his cheek, looking at him with the most vulnerable gaze. he memorized how sinful you looked for him, how your eyes begged for more and how your mouth uttered the neediest response from his stimulation.

you pressed your forehead by his cheek as you approached your climax, clawing at his arms. he watched how your cunt clenched around his fingers at each curl and spread. you ended up breathless after you came.

but he didn't give you any chance to pause and compose yourself, he lied you down the mattress and knelt before your body. he gave his length a few pumps after spitting on it, he teased his meat on your soaking cunt; savoring how you furrow your brows and gawk at him. he spread your legs by your inner thighs, pushing your hips toward his so you two could be very close. kidd leaned down and pressed foreheads with you, "i'm putting it in, aye?" he asked for permission and you hummed. he gave your nose a little kiss before sliding himself in slowly.

"f-fuck...!" he stuttered, breathless at the tightness of your innocent cunt. he could slide in without any pain from his or your end, your walls just clench around him a lot. you too were drooling and too lost at the fullness of his cock, he's way too huge for you to fathom. "if you keep clenching like that i'm not gonna last, love. i haven't even been fully in." he panted, smiling against your cheek.

once he fully got settled, the head of his cock reached your cervix; that's how big he is. after adjusting, he began moving back and forth. it took everything in him to do it slowly, he wanted to fuck you stupid in a harsh pace. you reached for his neck, slowly lling him down to kiss him. "i-it hurts, b-baby. i-i it feels sore." you said in between kisses. "b-but don't stop, i-it feels amazing too." you smiled meekly, a single tear falling at the corner of your eye.

kidd felt motivated to refine his performance, your words were like a brush on his shoulder. he kissed your tears away before saying, "i know, bunny. i promise to only let you feel the good part, hm?"

as you fist the sheets and his grip on your waist tightened, you two slowly found rhythm. kidd adored how pleasured you look right now, to the point that you don't know what to do with yourself. you played with your tits, sucked on his fingers, clawed on his arms, covered your face with the pillows, and clutched your tummy as you grew near. he was doing all of that to you and it was the biggest turn on for him. he reached over to hold your face in his hand, then he rubbed on your lips, and finally wrapped his hands around your neck. you swallowed at the constriction on your throat, his firm hand holding you in place. his other hand was holding your leg that was swung on top of his shoulder. "you close?" he asked, hips unceasing.

you nodded, your eyes becoming swollen at the amount of tears you let out. "me too, baby. i-i'm- ngh fuck!" he too was lost for words, he felt you clench again around him, you felt him throb inside you; the vibration coursing through your veins. "do you want me to p-pull out?"

you didn't know either. it was your first time and you know the risks. but it was kidd. you want him to release inside, to keep you warm, to let his cum drip down your cunt. so you shook your head and pulled him by the neck. "cum inside, release all of it."

from your words, he came right then and there, shooting up ropes of cum inside your womb. "if we're gonna have brats, i'm done for." he panted with his forehead resting on your shoulder.

"me too, mini versions of you are a headache." you giggled a bit, kissing his ear.

"can i just stay inside?" he lied gently beside you, "you just feel so good and i want to sleep like this."

another tear streamed down your cheeks, what a goddamn softie. you nodded turning your back on him and placing your hand above his which was resting atop your stomach. "i'm glad you're my first." you blurted out, blushing afterward.

"i'm glad you're my last, shortcake."

you gave him a glare but he just giggled.

one last hc before i wage war with my exams 🥺 this is for tHE FREAKSSS 🤪🫣

[cozage]

HCs about a threesome between Fem S/O, Zoro, and Sanji! I just can’t help it! I could totally see S/O being the balance between the two!

Anon…this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy. 

Character: female reader x Zoro & Sanji CW: Yeah this is just pure smut. Oral (giving and receiving), nipple play, double penetration, rough sex,  implied creampie, just all the fun stuff with a threesome. 

Threesome

Zoro is a boob guy. And an ass guy. But that’s okay, because Sanji lives only to serve you. 

Once the three of you are in a secluded place, Sanji immediately drops to his knees and pulls your shorts off, letting them pool around your ankles. 

Zoro presses his chest against your back as his arms snake around and tug at the front of your shirt. You can feel his cock pressed against your ass, and a familiar knot forms in your stomach. 

Sanji’s fingers move your lacy panties to the side, and he lets out a soft moan. “She’s already wet, mosshead.”

“I bet,” Zoro chuckles. He pinches your nipples and he pulls at them, causing you to moan and involuntarily lurch towards Sanji’s face. 

Sanji wastes no time. He pulls your panties off and spreads your legs, instantly diving face first into your pussy. 

Zoro continues to fondle your breasts, pinching and pulling, kneading and squeezing. Sanji’s tongue is masterful against you, and he easily slips one finger into your dripping wet cunt, and then a second. 

Zoro peppers the nape of your neck in kisses while Sanji pumps his fingers in and out of you eagerly, his mouth lapping up every drop of your slick. 

Between the two of them, it’s not long before you cum, your walls contracting around Sanji’s delicate fingers. 

After you finish riding out your high on Sanji’s lips, Zoro and Sanji quickly derobe, and Zoro guides you down to your knees. Sanji’s about to let you sit on his face, but you offer to sit on his cock instead. 

You carefully lower yourself onto Sanji’s perfect, slender cock in a reverse cowgirl position. You take a moment to properly adjust to his size, but Sanji always stretches you in just the right ways. He makes you feel full, but not uncomfortable. 

Zoro’s girth is a bit more daunting, even though you’ve done this several times. He towers above you now, holding his cock. He doesn’t need to use words. You know he’s waiting for you to open your mouth, so he can shove his dick inside those pretty lips. 

Sanji holds your hips steady, and you open your mouth for the swordsman. He shoves his cock into your mouth, instantly gagging you. 

Zoro runs his hands through your hair as you bob your head up and down his shaft, letting out soft grunts of pleasure. Sometimes he’ll push your head and make you take all of him. Your gags make him smirk, which leads to Sanji yelling at him to be more gentle with you.

After Zoro has had enough fun, he’ll pull you off the ground (And Sanji’s cock-which always elicits a soft whine from you at his sudden absence). 

Sanji takes the front, and Zoro takes the back. Together they hold you up, and carefully push both of their cocks into you. It’s painful at first, but it quickly melts into pleasure.

They don’t stop arguing. Ever. Even when you’re sandwiched between them, stuffed full of their cocks. 

“I’m making her moan more. Did you hear that one?”

“No way mosshead, that one was definitely me!”

A part of you wants them to keep fighting, because they fuck better when they’re arguing like this. 

The two of them try to time it so they cum along with you, all three of you hitting a synchronous high.

Sometimes Sanji will finish first though, and Zoro will take you to the bed and hook your ankles around his shoulders to get a deeper angle. Sanji will put your head in his lap and brush your hair from your face, whispering your praises while Zoro rails into you. 

Zoro always waits for you to cum before he does. You suspect he’s got some kind of kink, because you orgasming around him never fails to make him cum along inside you. 

After all of you have finished, the three of you collapse on your tiny bed from exhaustion. You sleep in between them, your head on Zoro's chest, your legs tangled with Sanji's. 

Sometimes, after a while, Zoro will reach down and begin palming lazy circles against your clit, stimulating you and making you let out a series of whimpers.

“Stop that!” Sanji hisses, instantly coming to your defense. He knows you deserve rest after taking both of them.

“What,” Zoro taunts. “You done after one round? Because I’m not, and I know she’s not either.”  

[eggymf-archived]

of paper planes and wildflowers; 02

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: nsfw, semi-public sex, almost getting caught, cunnilingus, fingering, implied squirting, accidental creampie, not proofread, unedited

chapter summary:  scandalous rumors, secret rendezvous, and unsanctioned duels within the castle grounds? oh no, what a mess.

word count: 3.6k

a/n: this was way behind schedule. regardless, enjoy the food i guess.

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

Eversince the start of your 5th year, Hogwarts has been buzzing with many stories and rumors compared to the previous years. These tales range from being painfully mundane to being the most outlandish story to have ever graced anyone’s gossip-hungry ears. The star of this year’s show, however, is the mysterious 5th year who had just started their schooling this year: almost getting murdered by a dragon or getting targeted by dark wizards isn’t normal for a student, after all. Whilst you also had your fair share of secrets, you’ve always kept it well under-wraps and as far away as possible from the gossip mongers of the school. 

But this time, the filthiest secret you’ve ever had so far has left your reputation hanging by a dainty little thread, ready to snap the moment you step a toe out of line.

“Have you heard about this odd activity that happened within the library recently?” 

Your ears perked up as you overheard Cressida Blume mention one of the cursed places that has been haunting your mind for the last month. You leaned slightly closer, attempting to drown out the violin quartet playing in the background.

“No, I haven’t. But I heard that the portraits there have been talking about it every now and then,” Lenora Everleigh replied to her. “What about it?”

“They’ve been talking about hearing certain activities relating to.... Wait, let me whisper it to you instead. It’s rather... Explicit.”

Cressida leaned to Lenora’s ear, whispering the remaining details while Lenora’s eyes widened more and more by the second.

“Merlin! That’s absolutely scandalous!” Lenora gasped in obvious disapproval.

You were snapped out of your eavesdropping when Natsai’s fingers gave a loud snap right in front of your face. You turned towards her who was giving you a confused look.

“Goodness. It’s not like you to listen to rumors,” she pointed out as she sat beside you. “Must’ve been a huge one to get your attention.”

“I didn’t hear much to be honest. Something about the library?” you asked, flipping through your Charms textbook once again.

“I heard about that one recently,” Garreth chipped in. “Something about some students engaging in some late-night mischief a few weeks ago I think? Not really sure when.”

“Didn’t expect you to be quite a gossip yourself, Garreth!” Natsai laughed.

"Now, now. It's just something I've heard floating about in the common room. The Fat Lady has her way of getting good gossip every now and then," Garreth reasoned, opening a box of every-flavored beans for the three of you to share.

“But that’s kind of normal though, isn’t it? Sallow sneaks into the restricted section a lot, you know,” you said, casually popping a flavored bean into your mouth.

“Ah, but that’s the thing. It’s not Sebastian who is involved. It’s two students doing y'know? That,” Garreth explained cryptically, patting his thigh multiple times in hopes that the both of you got the hint. You choked on the flavored bean, erupting in a mild coughing fit. 

“Wait, don’t tell me it’s what I think it is?” Natsai gasped, putting two and two together. Garreth leaned closer while you and Natsai mirrored his actions.

“The portraits did say that they didn’t manage to see their faces. But it was clear that the two were both doing something quite raunchy near the Transfiguration Section,” Garreth muttered to both you and Natsai. 

“Goodness, what on earth were they thinking?!” Natsai whispered in utter disbelief while you felt a small bead of cold sweat trickle down your temple.

“There’s also another rumor going around about hearing unusual noises from the broom closets every now and then. Others are speculating it’s another one of those couples but I think it’s just Peeves pulling on the caretaker’s leg,” Garreth continued. You paled slightly, recalling your recent activities.

“I sure hope so. What a mess!” Natsai agreed.

“I agree,” you piped in, snapping out of your thoughts. “What a mess.”

“Oh Merlin, please fucking end me right now,” you bemoaned inwardly.

Ominis surprisingly did keep his end of the bargain - it was only the actions that the two of you had done that the portraits of the library knew of, but not a single soul has connected that incident to the both of you. Thanks to his cooperation, everything was back to how it normally was - for the most part, that is. You were still pressured with your OWLs, tagging along into random agendas either with Garreth or Natsai, having your own dangerous silly adventures outside the school grounds, along with a new (and unfortunate) addition to the list: snogging Ominis Gaunt in secret.

It was not your proudest moment, but it is what it is. 

Somewhere deep down, you were most certainly aware that your last words to Ominis on that night would eventually be nulled - it’s just that you hadn’t expected to cave in that easily to him. Every time he pulls you into a random broom closet or in any corner away from prying eyes, your resolve just ends up melting and you give into his whims without a second thought. The both of you never got caught thanks to his impeccable timings, but luck doesn’t stay in one place for long and you feared the dire consequences of it all.

Everything about him was against your own morals and upbringing - he was a pureblood, directly related to Salazar Slytherin himself, and his family members are known to be dark wizards and witches. Meanwhile, both of your parents are muggleborns, with your mother being adopted into a well-off family of half-bloods. Your family members were either members of the Wizengamot or they were Aurors - anything or anyone that could be linked to the Dark Arts was absolutely not tolerated. 

Unbeknownst to you, however, Ominis was also in a similar state of confusion as you were. The young Gaunt prided himself as a well-mannered gentleman with solid principles as opposed to his other blood relatives, yet eversince he had a taste of the forbidden fruit he never thought he’d even acquire in any way, he couldn’t stop yearning to consume more of it. Nevermind the purity of your blood or whatever his impressions were on you: he was more concerned with the fact that the both of you were engaging in activities that only married couples would do. 

The both of you weren’t in love. Hell, you weren’t even friends with him. 

So who were you to him exactly?

Merlin forbid, as much as he didn’t really like you, he wouldn’t go as far as branding you as something derogatory and unsavory. If he ever did, he was most likely too consumed in the throes of passion.

In the past month of your ongoing secret rendezvous with the misty-eyed male, the both of you have never done anything as intense as that fateful night aside from the passionate kisses. After all, it was a lot more difficult to partake in taboo while you were in the right state of mind, but the both of you end up partially succumbing to the sweet temptation every single time. You sighed, rubbing your temples in frustration. 

This has to stop, and you’ll end it all today.

As you were tidying your books and parchment up after Charms class, a familiar paper crane circled around your head before landing on your desk. You grabbed the paper immediately and headed to the back of the classroom, unfolding it secretly.

Clocktower. 3pm.

You flicked your wand at the piece of paper, disintegrating it into tiny dust-like particles.

Ominis has been at the clocktower courtyard for the last hour. It was one of the least rowdy places within Hogwarts unless Lucan Brattleby was organizing another unsanctioned duelling activity amongst his fellow students. According to Sebastian, however, there won’t be another Crossed Wands tournament anytime soon due to many of the secret duelling club’s members being more preoccupied with their academic-related activities. 

To put it simply, this place was most likely where you and him could have a decent conversation - presently, that is. Ominis would rather not disclose his actual hideout to someone he considers as a stranger after all: it was his own sanctuary that only certain people in his already small circle are given privy to, and he intends to keep it that way. The young Gaunt has been giving his current predicament a lot of thought, and in that moment, he has arrived to a sound conclusion.

With the rumors of your mistake with him circulating around in hushed whispers, it was rather obvious what the best solution was to address this problem. After all, Sebastian’s dubious escapades with Skylar Evans, the new 5th year, was already a huge problem on its own. Another source of trouble would be too much for poor Ominis to handle.

“Oh, you’re here early.”

Ah, speak of the devil.

You approached Ominis, who was leaning against the metal railings with his arms crossed. An uncomfortably awkward silence looms over the both of you.

“Listen. I-

“We need to-”

Silence.

You took a deep breath.

“We should stop this,” you breathed out, breaking the stillness of the situation. Ominis nodded and hummed in agreement, listening intently as you poured out your repressed emotions regarding the matter.

“I can’t risk anyone finding out about this. People are already talking about the things we did and we’re on thin ice! My parents would kill me if they found out, so it’s better if we just-”

Ominis’ eyebrows furrowed.

“Shh!”

You gaped at him, scoffing in disbelief at his display of blatant disrespect.

“Did you just--” you were cut off again by Ominis, who shushed you more aggressively. Much to your horror, distinct chatter from multiple students were suddenly getting closer and closer to the wooden door leading to the connecting bridge. In a moment of panic, Ominis grabbed your wrist. He slammed the nearby storage door open and closed it shut once the both of you were out of sight. The both of you stood still in a corner behind several neatly stacked crates that was almost the height of the door. Both your frames are concealed rather well - that is, if anyone else doesn’t bother to enter and scour the room.

“Oi, Leander! Help me out with the training dummies, will you?!” Lucan Brattleby shouted as more and more students poured into the clocktower courtyard.

You felt your cheeks grow red with frustration and embarrassment.

“Really, Gaunt?! We could’ve just walked off!” you hissed angrily.

“And risk letting others find out while you run your mouth?!” he hissed back just as harshly in obvious vexation.

“That doesn’t mean you had to drag me into a storage room!”

“Quiet down, will you?! You’ll get us caught!”

“No, you shut up! I can’t believe this!”

Your hushed bickering with Ominis was stopped abruptly when a particularly loud clatter near the door caused you to squeak in response. You clung onto Ominis’ robes while he instinctively placed both his hands on your waist. Both of your breaths are labored, laced with the evident fear of getting caught. You jolted as you heard the sounds of metal clanging harshly against stone from the other side of the door. Ominis pressed his lips into a firm line, suppressing both his chuckle and a teasing smirk from surfacing on his normally calm demeanor. 

As much as he hated to admit it, you were rather adorable when you weren’t so uptight and composed.

“Would you look at that? Didn’t expect you to be all jumpy about this,” he sneered, causing you to seethingly glare at him.

“Oh, shush! This is all your fault!” you fumed. Deep down, however, you were growing ever so flustered with how close Ominis was.

“Really, now? You seem to be rather comfy in my presence, though,” Ominis scoffed, tapping his fingers on your waist. “I’d say you’re enjoying yourself.”

Before you could push the insufferable male off you, he quickly flipped you over: your back was now against the wall, and his hand was cushioning your head from hitting the hard stone surface while the other remained on your waist. You glared at him half-heartedly.

“Gaunt, I swear. If you-”

He captures your lips with his. You froze on the spot with wide eyes. You felt your rage slowly dissipating as he moved his lips against yours, ensnaring you once again within the warmth of his physical affection. 

“You talk too much,” he breathed against your lips before diving back into the kiss. You whimpered as he presses his body closer to yours while you gently rake your nails against his back.

And just like that, you fell hook, line, and sinker right into his trap once again.

To say that the both of you missed each other's touch was a complete understatement - soft whimpers and pants erupted from your now bitten red lips as Ominis utterly devoured you with sinful vigor. You partook in the addictive taste of his tongue, entangling it with your own as he reached for the clasps of your cloak, deftly undoing it. 

His veined, slender hands reached for your delicate neck, giving it a teasing little squeeze before drifting to your necktie. You felt the fabric loosen as he pulled the knot gently, and the hand that was once cushioning the back of your head was now at the small of your back. Instinctively, you wrapped one of your legs around his waist, earning an appreciative groan from the lithe-framed male. He rolled his hips against your heated core while you pushed your body closer to his as he broke the kiss off. You stared at his moon-like eyes, puffs of hot breath fanning across each other's lips. He rested his forehead against yours before gently leaning in for another kiss.

Gone were your reservations as Ominis began to unbutton your blouse impatiently, pulling the coverings of your chest down to reveal your supple mounds. You whined softly as you felt his wet appendage flick against your stiff peaks while you ran your fingers through his scalp. Ominis moaned against your skin, taking in your sweet, heady scent as he continued to pleasure you with his skilled tongue. 

Featherlight touches trailed down from your heaving chest all the way to your cloth-covered legs, heading right into your inner thigh. Nimble fingers maneuvered itself onto your concealed center, rubbing languid circles. Ominis’ breath hitched as he felt your juices seep through the woolen fabric of your tights. The clear fluid coated the tips of his digits instantly.

A gasp bubbled from your lips when Ominis knelt in front of you, his face dangerously close to your groin. Your eyes widened as you felt your quivering legs being spread further apart. He had wedged himself in between them, scrunching the front of your skirt up as he lightly inhaled the addictive scent of your arousal. His mouth closed onto the wet patch, licking the seeping fluid off the fabric while his thumb traced the seams of your crotch.

Riiiiip!

You let out a squeak as you felt the cool air touch your now exposed, soaked-through knickers. He moved the fabric to the side, while you quivered as you felt your essence dribble from your hole.

“Oh fuuuck...” he breathed against your core, taking in the sweet, musky scent of your exposed pussy. You bit your lip, groaning as you felt his tongue sneak right through your folds. Ominis threw one of your legs over his shoulder while you muffled your mewls of pleasure with your palm. The faint, raunchy sounds of squelches, groans, labored breaths and occasional hums of approval from the male kneeling before you sent your mind into a pleasure-filled haze.

“Oh...! F-fuck yes! Please...!” you whimpered deliriously, grinding your heated center against his face. He suckled on your sensitive little pearl while tracing the outer rim of your hole with two slender fingers. You gasped as he inserted both digits all at once, instantly setting a  mind-melting pace while circling his tongue around your clit. Tremors racked through your limbs deliciously and blood rushed right into your head as you kept receiving waves upon waves of pleasure.

Ominis groaned at the sudden violent tug on his head, yet he persisted with his pace. You felt an oh so familiar burning sensation crawling up from the tip of your toes, creeping up higher and higher as you approach your release.

“P-please..! Don’t stop! O-oh! Yesyesyes…!” 

Your hushed pleas nearly turned into loud cries as he plunged another finger within your weeping hole, still maintaining the same brutal, toe-curling speed. Euphoria surged through your veins, prompting you to cover your mouth as you let out a muffled moan. Ominis groaned as he felt your walls convulse against his digits. A gush of warm, scentless liquid sprayed out from your poor trembling pussy.

The aftershocks of your mind-blowing orgasm had rendered you almost boneless. Ominis’ mind totally blanked out after fully realizing what had just transpired.

A growl rumbled from his chest as he stood up, claiming your lips for a brief moment while squeezing your neck gently. His hand reached for his trousers, undoing the clothing article and slipping them off halfway. You eagerly palmed his painfully erect shaft though his underwear - a sense of cocky pride bubbled within your chest when you brushed against a wet patch on the fabric. Ominis pressed you against the wall, hooking your leg up on his arm while the other freed his swollen member from its confines.

You purred in delight as you felt the blunt tip rub itself along your slit before plunging in completely within a single thrust. Wind was knocked out of your lungs, your eyes prickling with pleasured tears. Ominis nuzzled your neck as he bucked his hips against yours, slowly plowing his member deep within your pussy. His cock twitched against your gummy walls as he rolls his hips languidly, relishing the sensation of your drenched, velvety core.

His thrusts this time around was deliciously slow and deep - it was as if he was savoring you. Your walls were in a complete frenzy: fluttering around his shaft at every thrust and clamping whenever it brushes against your sensitive spot. You gasped dizzily, feeling open-mouthed kisses land itself onto the burning skin of your neck. Ominis had left a trail of blooming love marks all over your neck and chest - a telltale sign that his inhibitions were completely non-existent at this point. 

“Mine,” he rasped, suckling on your clavicle. His words caused a pleasant tingle shoot within your core, causing it to constrict in response. Soft, light-headed giggles spilled from your lips.

You fucking loved the sound of that - being his, and his alone.

Ominis hissed, feeling a familiar bubble forming deep within his groin. The smooth tip repeatedly nudged against your sweet spot within, and your mouth gasped soundlessly as his thrusts became more erratic and harsh.

“F-fuck! I’m close...!” you whined breathlessly, feeling your thighs quiver involuntarily as you approach another high. Ominis’ lips latched itself on yours to muffle your increasingly loud whimpers.

Meanwhile, Lucan Brattleby quirked an eyebrow as he heard shuffling and unknown faint noises coming from the door behind him. The curly-haired boy was bemused - he didn’t recall anyone entering the storage room while the duelling club was doing its usual activities. He knocked on the wooden surface.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

You were snapped out of your drunken state, your eyes now completely wide open. Ominis paid no mind however - in fact, the situation seemed to have flipped a switch deep inside him. He smirked against your lips, thrusting deeper and harder into your core. You pleadingly sobbed, attempting to push the male off you who then pushed his weight on you in retaliation.

The door then swings open, causing Ominis to bury his cock as deep as he could. Your eyes rolled back with tears running down your cheeks as your body succumbed to the filthily shameless pleasure. Your walls constricted and convulsed around his throbbing member, and you felt hot spurts of his seed spill within you. The both of you stood still with bated breath.

Lucan frowned, his eyes scanning across the now deathly quiet room.

“Huh. Must’ve been my imagination,” he muttered, closing the door. 

You hurriedly barged into your room, making a beeline for your bed. Rummaging through the built-in underbed drawer, you pulled out a small phial containing a rose-hued potion. You quickly chugged the liquid down, and hid the empty bottle back into the drawer.

Sighing exasperatedly, you gathered a fresh set of clothes, toiletries, and a towel before making your way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

You shivered as the cold water hit your still heated bare skin, but your mind was still fixated on your little encounter with Ominis. The way he was both gentle yet domineering drove your still hazed-out little head into a state of confusion. You bit your lip, gazing down at the purplish marks that littered your chest. You were sure there were more on your neck too.

"That damned Gaunt..." you cursed half-heartedly as you felt blood rush towards your cheeks.

You recalled the little details of the alabaster-skinned male: his opal eyes, supple skin, the beauty marks on his face, his toned yet elegant frame, deft fingers, kissable lips, irresistible scent...

Ba-thump... Ba-thump...

“No. Absolutely not,” you firmly told yourself, letting the cold water cleanse you from your filth. You let out a faint shuddering moan as you felt a thick warm liquid dribble down your legs. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as the milky globs of his essence made its way down the drain.

Thank Merlin for emergency contraceptive potions.

< chapter 1: liquid luck? or liquid fuck. 🔞

chapter 3: the wingman with wings >

[roachspeaks]

𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑

𝙺ö𝚗𝚒𝚐 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙺ö𝚗𝚒𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊�� 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛.

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙿𝚒𝚗𝚅, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜(𝚖 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝙺ö𝚗𝚒𝚐, 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝙺ö𝚗𝚒𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕(𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚄𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡

𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙳𝙽𝙸

König couldn’t help the whimpers and moans that escaped his mouth. His beautiful girlfriend was on top of him, bouncing on his cock. Making him feel euphoric. Usually he could wait until they were home, or somewhere where the walls were thick enough to muffle the sound. But today after a particular strenuous mission, he needed her. He was all over her the moment they got back to her room. It was supposed to be just cuddling up and turning in for the night but he couldn’t help his need to touch her body. She knew he was loud, always had been. But in this moment he was taking it to a whole new level. “Fuck shatz” His head was thrown back as his eyes rolled in his skull. The feeling of her walls squeezing rapidly on his throbbing cock was too much for him. Plus the wet, slapping sound that she made when she lifted herself up particularly high and then sunk back down on him. He felt like he was in heaven, the burning of his skin and the foggy way he couldn’t even hope to focus on anything that wasn’t her sent shivers up his spine.

 “Awe such a pretty slut. Look at you, tongue lolled out. Barley holding it together.” Her words almost didn’t register in his head. He knew she was right, he probably did look like a slut right now. Such a big strong man struggling to hold it together underneath her. Then he heard it. Other voices in the hallway outside the room. 

“Liebling! We—..we have to pause.” He attempted to slow the movement of her hips with his hands. But with zero effort she moved his hands to either side of his head. He could have easily stopped her, but honestly the prospect of getting caught got him even more riled up. The idea of the team hearing just how good she made him feel. Knowing who really has the control in the bedroom. He let her pin his hands against the headboard behind him by his wrists. She could feel him twitch inside of her at the dominance. 

“We’re gonna keep going. You just have to be quiet angel.” Angel. The nickname caused a whine to drag up his throat. One of the many sweet sounds his love craved hearing. One of the sweetest symphonies she swears she’s ever heard. She lifts her hips until her cunt is just barely touching his cock before slamming back down. Causing one of the loudest, filthiest, most pornographic moans she had ever heard to erupt from the man below her. He swears he’s seeing stars and he hasn’t even cum yet. Her hand slaps over his mouth. But she doesn’t stop moving her hips up and down on him. “You just can’t listen can you? Dirty boy.” She smirks, continuing to ride his aching cock. He moans into her hand. The vibration it sends through her arm is lewd and electrifying. She sits all the way down on him, he’s a big boy. But it doesn’t stop her. Just as he thinks she may be having some mercy on him, she starts rotating her hips in a circular motion. It drives him mad. 

“Bite! Bitte! Please! Please let me cum!” His voice is shaky and overstimulated. He doesn’t realize how loud he’s actually being. There’s sounds of confusion from behind the thin door. 

“König! Shush baby. Be a good boy and hold on for me, alright?” She tilts his head so that he looks her in the eyes. He nods frantically at the tease of praise. She looks around slowly for something to keep him quiet. Her eyes light up deviously as they fall on her discarded panties. She quickly decided the thin, soft fabric would do the job. She grabs them and before König can question it she smashes her mouth into his. Drowning him in her tongue. She does one particularly sharp bounce on his cock. Sending an intense wave of pleasure through his body. Causing him to gasp with surprise, and when his mouth opens in a pathetic attempt to release some of that tension she stuffs her panties in his mouth. As soon as the taste of her previous arousal meets his tongue he practically has heart eyes. He doesn’t even last 10 more seconds. The taste, and scent of her cunt combined with the feeling of her wrapped tightly around him was enough to send him barreling over the edge. His hips bucking up into her wildly. Pumping her full of him and painting her insides white. 

He pants wildly, slowly coming down from his high. Then he realizes she hadn’t cum. He looks up at her to find her smirking devilishly. He doesn’t know what came over him, but there’s a sudden need to wipe that pretty smirk off her face. Before she can process he’s flipped her onto her back. His head between her thighs. His breath on her cunt. “Your gonna be the one needing this, mein shatz.” His voice is cocky as he removes her underwear from his teeth and presses it into her mouth. She can taste the mixture of his saliva and her arousal. Not wanting to waste a second he could be eating his lovers cunt, König dives between her thighs. Holding her hips and hooking her legs over his shoulders. Providing him with a deeper angle. He makes an effort to suck on her clit, then dragging his flattened tongue over it. Making the woman who was previously so cocky, whimper and whine into her own soaked panties. Her hips pushed up into his mouth, desperate for more. Her cunt already sensitive from riding him. Deciding to give her more than she was asking for, he shoves two of his thick fingers into her tight hole. Scissoring them inside her. The stretch is so utterly delicious. She can feel her climax approaching, her legs twitch in an effort to close around his skull. Without a word, and without removing his tongue from her desperate little cunt. He pushes her legs apart, flattening them onto the bed and finishing her off. Feverishly shoving his fingers into her cunt while his tongue ravages her sensitive clit. Her body shakes and she practically screams around her panties as she comes around his fingers. He continues until he can tell her high is coming down. Pulling out his fingers and maki g eyes contact with her as he takes them in his mouth and licks them clean. “Süss” 

[mythicglyphs]

I published my first fanfic! Marrow of Despair, a Raphael x Tav oneshot.

Read on AO3 (Link)

Summary: Alone by the fire at night, fevered and weak, Tav is afraid she is on the verge of transformation. Raphael's appearance seems to confirm her worst fears, but perhaps the devil has other reasons for paying her a visit.

The fire was low. Tav was frozen to the bones.

It was already cold for a summer night and the others had retreated to their tents early. For the last few hours, she had been in the grip of a sickening chill. She shivered uncontrollably. Every gust of wind made her feel as though icy tendrils were creeping across her skin. She could hardly think straight. Amidst the dizziness and the pounding in her head, one question was pressing itself to the forefront of her mind.

Is this it?

The splitting headache, the chill, the delirium that seemed to be filling her head with white mist. That was how it began, wasn't it? There was sickness, fever, gut-wrenching pain...and then dissolution. The total loss of self, the reformation into something new. Something soulless.

She should tell the others.

But then what? What if it was happening to them too, and they were all in their tents, consumed by the same cold terror as she was? Or what if she was the only one? Would they protect her, insist that they keep up the search for a cure until the very end, or would they simply kill her? Would she let them? She didn't know whether it was hope, or simply the animal instinct for self preservation, that kept her from calling out for her companions. Visions of what would happen to them if she transformed right there in camp began to bloom in her imagination, and fear and guilt ate at her.

Her head thudded. She was so weak. She thought she could feel the squirm of the parasite behind her eye, and her stomach turned over.

Don't let this be it. Please, don't let this be it. I'll do anything.

As soon as the thought had flittered across her mind, there was a strange crackle in the air, followed by the faint scent of something burning. Then, a familiar voice.

"My, what a pitiful sight."

Her heart turned ice cold.

Of course, he would show up now. There could be no doubt now. All hope was gone, and true to his word, he was there. Her last remaining choice.

She forced herself to look up. The devil was standing some distance from her, in the shadow of a tree, looking at her with cool amusement.

"I...Raph..."

"Raph? We've become familiar awfully quickly, haven't we?"

Tav glared at him and opened her mouth, but no words came out. It was such an effort to speak, even to think. He smirked and sat down on a nearby log, looking as much the picture of elegance in their makeshift camp as he did in his own house. She knew how she must look; glassy-eyed, drenched in cold sweat, and weak. Easy prey, like an injured animal.

"But, I'm glad about that," he continued. "You look as though you're in need of a friend. A saviour, even."

She summoned the last ounces of strength she possessed. Yes, it was hopeless, she knew exactly why he had come, but whatever he wanted, be it her soul or something even more costly, she wasn't giving it up without some semblence of a fight.

"Hellspawn," she spat. "Get out of here."

Her voice was weak and cracked. She knew there hadn't been much power in it, because he was looked more amused than ever as he gazed down at her. Forcing herself to ignore the splitting pain in her head, she gave him the filthiest glare she could muster.

"You know," he said, with feigned indignance. "When you look at me like that, I can't help but think your face would be improved by the presence of a few tentacles."

It was too effortful to respond. Tav pressed her hands hard into the sockets of her eyes in an effort to relieve the pain, though it gave her the horrible feeling that she was pushing the tadpole further in. She could hear Raphael moving, leaves and grass crackling under his boots as he approached her.

"Where are your loyal companions?" he asked. "Resting peacefully in their tents, leaving you alone in such a terrible state? It hardly seems fair. Shall I wake them?"

Resting peacefully. So she was the only one. The first to succumb to ceremorphosis. He seemed to read her thoughts on her face.

"I wonder," he said slowly, sounding as though he was savouring her fear. "What would they think if they saw you like this? What would they do?"

She couldn't transform. She couldn't. All of her courage, her resolve and determination, wound as tightly as the strings of a lute, suddenly snapped.

"Raphael - do something, please," The words were tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "I'll take your deal, I'll give you whatever you want. Just don't let this happen. Don't let me transform."

His smile widened slowly.

"Why, just moments ago, you still had some fight in you."

"Please." She didn't care how she sounded, couldn't hide her desperation any longer. "I need your help. Just tell me what you want."

"I don't want anything," he said, flippantly. "Other than your rapid recovery, of course."

He wasn't going to refuse, surely? He couldn't abandon her to that fate.

"You said...you said you could help. That you'd save..."

Raphael chuckled.

"Charming as it is to hear you beg for my help," he said. "It's unwarranted. You need not be so eager. We have time yet for deals and contracts, for despair and desperation. In the meantime..."

He knelt down, gazed at her for a moment, then surprised her by placing the back of his hand against her forehead.

"The brave adventurer," he murmured. "Bold enough to stand in a devil's house and threaten to rip out his tongue. Brought this low by a mere fever."

"I...what?"

"A common occurence, I suppose, when one spends their days trawling through goblin camps and ancient crypts."

Tav peered at him through a delirious haze, trying to find some sense in his words. A fever? If that was all it was, then why had he come? Was he toying with her, giving her a little taste of false hope to make the game last longer?

"You mean - this isn't - I'm not - ?"

"Transforming? Not tonight." He trailed his fingers down her cheek. "I'd wager that you'll retain this precious mortal skin for some time yet."

That couldn't be true. There could only be one reason for his being here, on this night.

"You're lying," she said, feeling her cheek grow hot where he touched her.

"I assure you, I'm not," he replied.

"I...I don't trust..."

"Why, you wound me," he said, removing his hand and leaning back. "I've been unfailingly honest to you since we met. Besides, do you think if your soul really were about to turn at any moment to an empty shadow, that I would dally on claiming it?"

She didn't trust him, not one bit...but something in his voice told her that he was telling the truth.

It was a fever. That was all. Relief washed over her, followed, a moment later, by the strange urge to laugh. Raphael, for all his teasing and toying with her, had sought her out in their middle-of-nowhere camp simply to assure her that she wasn't about to sprout a head of tentacles.

"So, shall I wake your companions?" he asked.

"No," said Tav. Her head was still pounding, but she felt lighter. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep. "No...I'll be fine. It'll pass."

"I would feel dreadful leaving you alone in this condition," he said. His voice, although retained its usual ironic quality, was somehow less mocking than it had been moments ago. "Especially on such a cold and lonely night..."

Before she could register what was happening, he had taken her firmly by the shoulders and manoeuvred her down onto the bedroll again. Lying there, weak, but calm, she listened to the sound of Raphael moving around the camp. There was the sound of logs being thrown on the fire, and an accompanying blaze of heat. The clink of a pot, the rustle of a bag. A moment later, he was lifting her head and holding a cup at her mouth.

"Drink this."

Too tired to protest, or even to ask what was in the cup, she drank. It was tea, sweet with honey. There was the slight medicinal edge of something else, but whatever it was, she was too exhausted to care. She drank the whole cup and felt a warmth spread through her insides.

"Why are you..." Tav began, trailing off as her head sank down into the pillow again. Raphael seemed to understand what she meant.

"I told you before," he said. He had moved behind her, his hand was resting on her shoulder. "My compassion is boundless. Particularly where my very favourite client is concerned."

"I'm not your client," she mumbled.

"Not yet."

There was a burst of heart and a flash of light bright enough to register even through her tightly closed eyes. A moment later, she felt something extremely warm at her back. Arms were encircling her and holding her tight. The cold, cutting winds were suddenly stopped by a large, leathery wing, draped over her like a blanket.

"The others," muttered Tav, vaguely imagining her companions emerging from their tents to this unexpected sight. "If they wake..."

"They won't."

She felt the tips of razor sharp claws trailing down her arm, raising goosebumps on her skin, although she didn't feel cold anymore. The intense infernal heart was thawing her. Every muscle was relaxing. Was this really happening, or was it some feverish dream?

She felt something around her waist; a thick, sinuous tail, tightening around her, holding her in place. If this was real, then what did it mean?

"Tell me why you..."

She drew a sharp breath, cut off mid-sentence as Raphael's claws dug into her skin. His tail lashed. He pulled her closer. Perhaps it was not the time to question the devil, not while lying in his embrace in the dead of night.

"Go to sleep, little mouse," he whispered. She closed her eyes and obeyed.

[semicolonsspace]

!VampireOC x !Nerdy Stiles Stilinski

This is the most toe-curling, filthiest, wtfest shit I've EVER written- I LOVE IT!!! Read at your own risk babes! (please request only if you want)

Tw: Minors DNI (18+), Nerd! Stiles, Mention of Masturbation, Teasing, Cute names(Biscuit, sweetpea, sweet boy, songbird), begging, Mommy Kink, Praise Kink, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Mention of toys, Handjob, excessive amount of whimpers/Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Orgasm Denial, Creampie.

Nova Bella Queens. A wealthy famous vampire that everyone knew, but they didn't know of her being a vampire. Instead, she had a reputation for being one of the smartest people in school, also being a goth, which means she consistently declined to help people do their work, only if she didn't like them. Like Brad, she didn't like Brad. Except when it came to the nerds that genuinely showed that they wanted higher grades. That led her to Stiles Stilinski. She never had talked to him, but boy was her eyes always finding him in a crowd. She had every class with him so she had more of the universe on her side but she never did. Not until today.... but we'll get to that in a bit.

She caught him staring at her in every class. After she first caught him- She waved at him, winked at him, brushed by him to tease him. That simple action drove him insane, causing him to run to the bathroom to remove the desperate feeling. She thought he was the most perfect human of them all. He was so nervous near her, his heartbeat consistently racing when she caught him staring.

Nova struts to the library, the direction she smelled her favorite human. It was their free period and she'd usually walk around but today she wanted to find Stiles. She found him sitting at an empty table, scribbling away on a paper for class. Nova smiles when she sees him. He has a highlighter on his pouted lips, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration.

"Can I sit with you?" Nova asks, sitting down next to him before he can answer. He stiffens when she smells her perfume, knowing it is his biggest crush. Nova takes the highlighter from his lips, "It would help to answer if you don't have something in your mouth," Nova teases.

This could not be happening to him right now. One... his crush, the most beautiful person in the world, was sitting by him. Two, she was talking to him. Three, she was teasing him!

Stiles clears his throat, "Uh, of course, you can -I mean- you already are, but that's fine." Stiles cuts himself off with a groan. Nova laughs at his nervousness, her fingers now twirling the highlight with her fingers.

"It's okay, Biscuit; I'm not going to bite- Unless you want me to," Nova jokes. Nova was nervous as well, her hands feeling a bit clammy.

Now his chest was tight, his heart beating as fast as it ever went before. The name Biscuit causes him to hyperventilate. The simple but cute name is what he needed to hear, what he fantasized about for years. Not exactly what he fantasised but now? He was going to use that for later.

Nova frowns at him hyperventilating. This was the reason why she procrastinated talking to him for so long. Her Vampiric self always made people so nervous. Thus making her panic.

Instead, she gets out her book and begins reading it for class. A thing to calm her down, like she does to sleep at times. She was a fairly quick reader. She has the ability to read 357 words per minute, thanks to her vampire speed. Her finger still twirled his yellow highlighter, waiting for the shy boy to ask for it back.

Stiles shakes his head and pulls his fractured concentration back onto his work. He was a bit behind and now that Nova was here? He was sure that he was going to be even more behind. He pulls himself out of his thoughts once more and searches for his highlighter. He looks under his backpack and other places like his lap. That was before he found it in her small hands, twirling around on her ring-covered fingers.

Nova giggles teasingly, she places it in her bra, eyes locked into his wide ones. "Say please and I will consider giving it to you," Nova says in a hushed tone. His eyes trained on his highlighter that was stuck between her cleavage. He gulps heavily, and an audible sound is heard.

Stiles clears his dry throat, "Please..." He asks, sounding more like a beg. Nova tilts her head, her finger tapping her chin, acting like she was giving it a thought.

Nova leans toward him so close her minted breath moves his hair. "Please, what?" Nova starts. Now her lips brushed against his, almost pressing against his. His eyes widened more in a panic, staring right into her alluring eyes. "I know how you feel about me... How you ran to the bathroom to rub one out because I bumped into you- Go ahead, call me what you moaned in that stall," Nova finishes.

Stiles takes a second to recover his staggered breath. How did she know that? Was she a werewolf like his best friend Scott? Either way, he didn't care, the need to call her the name overrode his brain. "Please, Mommy..." Stiles begs.

In a flash, Nova takes the highlighter out of her bra and hands it to him. He shakily turns to his work, highlighting something slowly. She goes back to reading her book like nothing happened. He watches her, not being able to fully focus on his work. For now, she was looking at someone else's work, admiring Nova like she was like a sculpture created by the gods. So sinful but yet so divine. If only he knew what she was, and how impure she could be.

Nova knows that he is watching her. She knew how much control she had over him already. One of the small perks to being a Seduction Vampire.

This goes on for a bit before Nova scolds him. "Do your work, Biscuit. You don't want to get more behind now do you?" Nova asks, her angelic voice resembling a mother. Stiles shook his head quickly, as he didn't want to get too far behind like she had said.

After another bit of silence, Stiles finally finishes his paper. Nova smiles, praising him innocently. To him it wasn't innocent, the praise sprinting straight to his now tightening jeans. 'Why did he think it was a good idea to wear these jeans today' he internally cursed.

"Nova? Why'd you all of a sudden sit with me?" Stiles croaks without thinking. Nova hands him a water bottle from her bag, demanding him to drink up. Nova once again leans toward him, her body taunting him with how close she was. "I want to get you all flustered up... Wanna take care of you.... a pretty boy like you deserves it," Nova admits, whispering into his left ear. The confession drags a whimper out of his parted lips. "That being said, come with me to my house- My Father is out on a business trip so I'm all alone," Nova mentions. He nods staring into her vampiric eyes that glowed. She was going quicker than she wanted to but she needed to hang out with him. She craved to fluster him, she was addicted to his little blush... Addicted to hearing his blood rush to his groin- his heart and his whole body.

Stiles takes a drink of the water once again, gulping it down quickly. "Why would he leave you alone?" He asks with an innocent look on his face. Nova shushed him, she didn't want to get into it. Right then the bell rings. She gathers his stuff for him, neatly placing it into his bag. She guides him to her motorcycle outside. She places her helmet on his head, securely strapping it to his head. She sits down on her bike in a hurry, wanting nothing more for his hands to hold her. Stiles doesn't hesitate, sitting down and wrapping her arms around her waist.

She kicks off to drive, the wind now flowing through her wavy brunette hair. He could smell her shampoo, smelling like pure honey.

Once she gets home she drives the bike through the garage, double-checking if the doors are locked. She guides him quickly up the gothic stairs, Stiles turning to study the beautiful mansion in awe.

"C'mon, biscuit," Nova giggles. He obeys and continues to follow her. As he walked his eyes followed something else, her ravishing hips that swayed as she walked too elegantly up the spiral stairs.

They head to her room, Stiles looking around in awe. Her bedroom was huge, with a walk-in closet and a bathroom for herself. Her bed had black curtains matching the dark walls of the rest of the house. Her bedroom was a little different from the rest of the house, having a bit more color inside. She had a few pride flags, Led strips along with a Star tarot card tapestry that was pinned to the ceiling.

"You- have beautiful taste," Stiles compliments. It sounded better in his head.

Nova thanked him before grabbing his backpack and placing it in her closet. She then plops her plush body on her bed, patting the left side of the bed so he could lie down.

Stiles gulps and musters up a few bits of courage that he had and walks to lie down next to her. He hesitantly does so, not before wiping himself from dirt that he thought he had. He felt strange in an amazing house such as hers. He felt so strange to even be in her house- her room, lying next to a divine creature such as her. He'd only dreamed of it numerous times and almost everytime it lead the same way.

Nova brings him out of his thoughts saying something he didn't register. "Wha- What?"

Nova repeats herself, "Would you like to go swimming? We have a pool."

"Isn't it a bit cold outside?" Stiles asks innocently, subtly declining her tempting offer. It was fall, and tomorrow was fall break as well.

Nova laughed that sounded like a rich mother. "We have an inside pool, Biscuit. I can get you some swim trunks if you want to," Nova asks as she drags her body along the bed to get some. She comes back swiftly with two pairs of shorts, one ombre grey, and then a blood-red one. "These are my Sibling's trunks but they're working right now, I'm sure you heard of them," Nova laughs.

Stiles nods and grabs them, examining them. "Is that the one that is rumored to be genderfluid?" Stiles asks. He could recall hearing whispers of her sibling coming out as gender fluid on Instagram.

Nova nodded smiling brightly; She was proud of him for knowing the information about her family. "I only have one sibling, Kai; They're genderfluid and use They/them pronouns," Nova laughs, explaining her sibling's rumors. "The rumors are true."

"Where can I go to change?" Stiles asks changing the subject. She points to her bathroom and he blushes hard. "R-right." He could feel his ears become warm after the awkward interaction. As she walks to the bathroom, Nova walks to her closet, grabbing her bathing suit. She strips herself from her clothes and puts it on.

While she was putting on her shirt Stiles walked out of the bathroom and paused at the sight. Nova was in her closet, her bottoms were already on, and her back facing him. She had to tear his eyes off her plump ass as she puts on the top and attempts to tie the lace around her neck. He situated his trunks and walked toward her. He moves quickly, carefully grabbing the strings from her shaking hands. She holds her hair up as she does so.

"Thanks, Biscuit," Nova says as she turns around and faces him. She kisses his nose causing it to wrinkle.

"That tickled," Stiles pouted with a laugh. Nova joins his laugh with a small giggle and wraps her arm around his shoulder.

"C'mon, let us go swim, sweet pea," Nova says walking. Stiles walked as well, as she had ahold of his shoulders. He didn't argue, willing to go anywhere for her.

Then they headed downstairs and left from behind the stairs to a long hallway. Passing a few doors they stop at a door and head in. The room consisted of a rectangular pool with diving boards and a hot tub. The ceiling was better than the pool. It was pitch black with small lights that looked like stars. Sometimes the family would go night swimming but wanted to swim inside so they had this constructed. It was Nova's idea, but let us be real she got it from the Harry Potter film.

"Wow," Stiles whispers in awe. His eyes were wide, scanning the room. He was more focused on the hot tub than anything. He was excited. He wanted to consume its warmth while sitting with Nova. Maybe while Nova sits in his lap while they talk about meaningless things.

Nova points to a door next to the hot tub at the end of the pool. "That's a sauna if you want to use it, I kinda hate using it so only Kai uses it-" Nova begins explaining, mentioning her best friend who just happens to be her sibling.

Nova steps into the pool slowly, holding out a hand for Stiles. He takes it and she continues her speech. "Father is only here a bit. If he is here he usually has new arm candy, which means temporary food." Nova ends her rant.

Stiles couldn't help but feel bad for Nova. Her father sounded Horrible- like her father didn't care. "He sounds lovely," Stiles jokes.

Nova shakes her head in a grimace. Now the warm water reached her shoulders. "He isn't. I'm just glad he didn't raise me... My Uncle did. He was more around, He was the best!" Nova smiles brightly when she mentions him. "I'm telling you, Uncle Ian is way better than a father Barty can be. Ian once gave me 1000 dollars when my first girlfriend broke up with me- He took me to a spa and he made me get my nails done after! You would love him- Oh! We should introduce him to one of your friends um, Danny? Is that his name?" Nova asks.

Stiles raises his eyebrows in surprise at the mention of his not-so-friend Danny. "Yeah, but I wouldn't say he's my friend, I don't think he likes me...Wait... Did you say, girlfriend?" Stiles asks. He couldn't believe his ears. Was she actually gay and messing with feelings?

Nova laughs at this, making Stiles frown slightly. His back was turned to her, so luckily she couldn't see. Nova swims forward and stands in front of him as he wipes the frown away, playing it off as he needs to scratch his face. "I'm pansexual. I like anything. You saw the flag; It's the easter colored one," Nova shrugs.

"I'm straight- I think," responds Stiles. Nova tilts her head and holds back her beautiful smile. "You think? Do you like anyone that's a guy? Scott perhaps?"

"Oh gosh no, he's like my brother from another mother," Stiles awkwardly laughs. She scratches his arm and she gushes. He looked so adorable! she loved it when he was nervous, it made her heart flutter.

Nova puts her hands in defense. "I was just saying you don't have to get all defensive," Nova responded laughing. Stiles knew she was joking and he couldn't help but shake his head. "Seriously though, You don't have to have a label... Just know- That it's okay to like what you like," Nova shrugs.

"Well, I like you," Stiles blurts out. He could not believe what he just said. He only had dreamt of it millions of times. He wanted to take her on a date and tell her or hang out under the stars not in a pool at her house. But He couldn't argue, he got half what he wanted, it was just artificial stars.

Nova bites her lip with a big smile. You could see the humor lines in the corner of her eyes that were sparkling because of him. "I like you too," Nova says stepping forward. He takes a step back. "How much do you like me?" Nova asks. "Cause... I like you a lot..."

Stiles choked on his spit. His hands under the water play with the black strings, connected to the ombre grey trunks. "Really?" Nova smiles and kisses his cheek suddenly. Her eyes fall onto his, "A lot- A lot." Nova couldn't help but step closer to him. His back touches the edge of the pool. Nova grabs the tied strings by the hoops and pulls him towards her. Stiles could have sworn his head went lightheaded for a slit second. He takes a deep breath and lets his hands rest on her naked hips, just below her high-waisted bikini bottoms. Their eyes were locked as they got close to each other, increasing the sexual tension that they felt. "You want me to show you how much I like you?" Nova asks seductively.

Stiles whimpers, nodding a bit too quickly. "Please..." He had no idea what he was begging for, but boy was he. He'd get on his knees and beg if he could if it wasn't for this dumb water in the way.

Nova smirks, her head tilts, and slowly leans toward his neck. She kisses him under his ear, forcing another whimper out of his beautiful lips. "I-" Another kiss. "Like-" and another. "You-" and yet another. "This much." the flat of her tongue from the kiss mark to his ear, her teeth nibbling on his ear slightly.

All whilst he kissed his neck, his hands were gripping hard onto her hips, not that he knew, he was too dazed by her. Whimpers and moans a few profanities flying from his lips.

"Naughty boy, need to learn how to speak nicely, huh?" Nova purrs. Stiles nods quickly, his eyes widen with submission. Nova smiles and flips them, his back now facing the center of the pool. Her hands raise behind her on the edge, trying to get up there to sit down. He helps her, his hands hoisting him up by the back of her knees. She stares down at him, her hands slowly reaching for the strings on each side of her bikini bottoms. His eyes follow her slow movements. He almost misses them because of how slow her teasing movements are. Once she knows he isn't going to stop her, she pulls the strings off, removing and throwing the cloth somewhere into the pool.

"Come here, sweet boy, I want your mouth to be put to good use," Nova says, her finger signaling him to do so.

He obeys and steps closer to her. "I've never-" He stutters, his voice cracking. He couldn't finish the words; His mouth was so dry from constantly being in awe.

"I'll teach you," Nova says comfortingly. Stiles was now in front of her semi-naked glory. Her thighs open, showing just how she truly wanted needed him. He whimpers at the sight, his head instantaneously diving into her cunt. He's watched a lot of porn, so he thought he knew what to do. The flat of his tongue finds her bundle of nerves the moment he touches her. Her head falls back, her hand reaching to grab his head. "I think you already know how," Nova moans.

Stiles couldn't help but be smug, smirking into her cunt as he lapped his name out on her clit. After multiple times of spelling out his name, she notices the same pattern that she usually rubbed on her clit. "You're spelling your name," Nova says between moans. He nods into her pussy, his eyes now boring into hers from below. Her other hand that was holding him there then affectionately plays with his hair. "Ain't this a better way for your mouth," She moans. She felt like she could cum at any moment, never have felt like she was this quick. Usually, it would take hours by herself. But this? Oh Lord, this felt way better than her flimsy vibrators, especially her dumb fingers.

Stiles releases from licking her clit, her juices all over the bottom of his face. "Way better, Momma," Stiles agrees. His tongue goes right back where it was, licking the same pattern. This time, a finger teases her wet entrance. She gasps at the feeling, her eyes falling onto his once more. Just then he shoves a finger into her, moving at a deliciously slow pace, occasionally curling up to her favorite spot. Each time his finger hits that spot, it massages it quickly, more moans and profanity flying into the pool room. The combination of his finger, his licking and occasionally sucking was making her head swell. She had no clue how he was so good- and this was his first time doing this?

"Have you done this before?" Nova moans asking. He nods into her releasing once more replacing his tongue with his other hand.

"No, Momma... Watched videos..." Stiles whimpers, rutting against the pool walls. She notices the water move around him and glares, or at least tries to glare. "I've watched- a lot of videos."

"Good boy... Doing research... But not much of a good boy, huh? Rutting against the pool wall like a horny puppy," Nova degrades. Stiles' eyes widen, his face immediately forming into a pout. "Be my good boy and keep fucking them fingers into me, yeah?" Nova demands. He didn't even know that he stopped. He continues fucking his finger into her hole, his other hand fingering her clit. Eventually, he gains enough courage to add another finger and her hand on his hair tightens, tugging it slightly before she controls her strength. He could feel her clench on her, telling all that he needed.

"Come on, Mommy. I wanna see you cum," Stiles begs. His hand that was fingering her clit removes, being replaced by his tongue once more.

"Oh fuck- ah- Msczyclaw!" Nova screams. She cums, and Stiles stared at her with starry eyes. He never told her what his birth name was. People knew what it was, but no one could ever pronounce it so he went by Stiles instead.

Stiles slurps all of her releases, groans turning not vibrations into her cut at the taste. He pulls away from her clenching cunt, and pulls her down into a kiss. Nova slid her way into the pool, his hands holding her hips so she could stand up straight into the water. His needy mouth kissed her with the utmost passion that he could muster. He didn't have to try hard, him going absolutely feral from her moaning his birth name.

As he kissed her, his hands were resting on her ass, holding her up in a sitting position on her waist as he walked to the pool stairs. He laid her down gently, her back touching one of the stairs. Her legs open in response, his body slotting in between. After she came so hard her mind was wired into submissiveness. He picked up on this, taking care of her just as she would. He kisses her face, littering kisses to bring her back. "You look so pretty, Mommy," Stiles whispers. Nova smiles, her hooded eyes staring into his doe ones.

"You're the pretty one, Biscuit," Nova responds in a hushed voice. His stomach flips when she says this, his mind focusing on the nickname. Never has a simple nickname made him so happy.

Nova flips them slowly, now her straddling his waist on the stairs. "Let me take care of you, baby," she whispers.

Stiles pouts, "Please..." He didn't know what he was begging for but he wanted it. He needed it. He needs her to touch him. To take care of him.

Nova tugged on his trunk, gesturing that she wanted permission. He nods and she shakes her head. "Tell me what you want me to do, baby."

Stiles gulps. "I want- I want your hand Mommy, I want you to talk to me," Stiles begs, his voice high and needy.

Nova kisses his nose, her hand pulling his girth out. He was thicker than the dildo that she used, causing a moan to fill the room. "Look at that baby, that pretty cock just for me," she coos, her thumb sliding of the slit to gather his precum.

His eyes roll back at the praise. This was better than any fantasy he'd ever thought of. This one was dirty, upright filthy.

She leans down, kisses his dick, licking it after. "Taste wonderful, so sweet for me," she says after. Her wrists turn around him, her eyes looking into his. He tries to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember every detail that he could. He fails at times, his eyes close from the delicious sensation his cock was being received.

"Bet I'm better than your hand huh?" Nova laughs teasing. She was thinking of him going to the stall to rub one out again, moaning for her to let him release. Her good little boy moaned in a public bathroom. It's a surprise he didn't get caught.

"Yes... Mommy, feel much better," Stiles croaks breathily bringing her out of her quick thoughts. His chest was rising up and down, slightly trying to catch up on his breath. Before he could take another breath, he cums all over her hand, some flying onto her face from the blast. He whimpers at the orgasm and the sight. He kisses her, his cum on her now on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't help but continue whimpering as he kissed her delicious lips.

She kept rubbing his cock to help him come down from his high. Even after he came down her hand never stopped. "Think you have another of em' in you, sweet boy; I know you do," she purrs encouraging him. more.

"Ah- Mommy it hurts!" he cries quickyly. But she doesn't stop, her hand only goes faster, her thumb occasionally teasing the tip of his throbbing length.

"I know, sweetie. But you're strong, aren't you? My sweet boy is so strong."

Stiles was too fucked out to argue, his brain short-circuiting because of her. The pain he had only grown stronger, now forming into delicious pleasure once more. He moans loudly, his moans echoing against the tiled walls. "Mommy... I need you."

"You'll have me after this, I wanna see cum just one more time... You can do that for me, can you?"

Stiles nods quickly in response. His hands were tight on her hips, his hips bucking into her hand. Nova's free hand cups his face as she leaves a kiss on his nose. Her hand moves to wipe the sweat off his brow after.

Nova's free hand then moves to her top, untying the strings that he tied effortlessly. Her perky boobs bounce as she slings it off. His moans become louder, cum flying out of him once more. "Ah- Mommy," He whimpers. She litters kisses on his face as praise, pushing him over the high faster as he continues cumming. Cum splattered on her tits and his stomach. Tears fell from his face from the overstimulation high. She now hovers over him, a worried/tired look on his face. "Please not yet, it hurts," Stiles whimpers.

She nods and kisses his cheek assuring him she isn't going to do so unless he says so. "Just tell me when okay, biscuit?" Her voice asks in a caring tone. "Just say green- you know the spotlight thing, yeah?"

"Yeah, I do," Stiles responds. His breathing was quick, sweat at his brow while they were furrowed. Stiles look down to her tits and then back to her eyes. He wanted to lick them so bad, they looked perfect- so round.

Nova guides his head to her chest, knowing exactly what he wants. At that point he didn't have to speak, instead, he just had to look. She read his eyes like a psychic in a sci-fi movie. His teeth latched onto her hardened nipple, rolling them gently between his teeth. Her hand in his hair tightens, tugging slightly as she moans. "Green... I need- I need you, now," He whines, his hip rutting up into her folds. His tip slides against her clit, finding her entrance after. His tightened grip on her hip pushes her down, his hips meeting her halfway.

She doesn't expect the quickness of it. Or how he entered himself, she was expecting herself having to do that.

"Use me, baby, guide me to your high," Nova whispers breathily. His hips snapped into her cunt repeatedly at a fast pace. The squelching sound returns, this time from his curved cock kissing her cervix like it was made to do. His mouth goes to her other nipple, giving it just as much attention as the other. All while he does so, the sensitivity of his cock in her wetness drilling in her was forcing whimpers and needy groans from his parted lips.

"Fuck, Momma- Your Pussy is squeezing me like a vice," Stiles growls weakly. His mouth goes from her tit to his shoulder, biting on it to muffle his sounds.

The sounds squeezed through his lips, vibrating into her body as she rode him like no tomorrow. His hands guided her movements, his stomach turning with each movement. It jumped and hollered as she did so, screaming for more. Craving it. He needed her- he needt o feel her cum on his cock. He wanted it more than anything right now.

"My sweet boy, so cute noises," Nova coos. She pulled his head back so she could look at him. "I wanna hear that music, songbird."

At that, he feels the high return in his twisted stomach. "Mommy- I'm," Stiles whines, cutting himself off with a choke on his spit. Nova cups his face and wipes his wet face. "Such a good boy for me, baby- Fucking filthy for me," Nova moans, her hips pounding onto his cock. she leans forward, her chest now leaning against hers as his hips continue to bounce on his. The sound and the feel of her breath on his face almost pushed him over the edge.

"Please- Please let me cum... Mommy please-" He choked again. "I need it, be nice to me, please," Stiles begs, his hands rubbing her back to gain access for him to release.

"Don't you dare cum Stiles... " Nova says quickly.

Stiles was going insane. The pleasure was just too much, he knew he could say red light and everything would stop but gosh it felt so good. He's dreamed of this for years. At home in his bed, in his bathroom, in class, in the school bathroom, in lacrosse practice, even at breakfast!

"I can't hold it anymore, Momma! Wanna cum in you... please-"

Nova cuts him off with a forceful kiss. "Cum, sweet boy... I wanna feel it paint my walls," she moans.

He cums inside her, his fingernails digging into her hips. He screams as he finishes, his head falling back with the utmost pleasure that he's ever felt in his life. He felt like he could just cum again just from feeling himself cumming inside. His release oozed out of her as continued riding him, a white ring forming around his cock, the first ring that she'd given him thus far. "Fuck-Momma-"

"Trust me, sweet boy, I'm not done with you," Nova says. Just then she gets off of him, picks him up bridal style, and carries him up to her room. He was in for a long night...

[katareyoudrilling]

Construction Corner (AU Joel Miller x Female Reader) Episode 3: The Moreno Family

Fandom: The Last of Us/Pedro Pascal

Pairing: TV Host Joel Miller x divorced Female Reader

Summary: Joel and Reader go on a date!

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Alternate Universe, cameos galore, inaccuracies about tv show production, filming, and construction, f masturbation, heavy petting (I guess?)

A/N: Extreme weather and a resulting internet outage kept me from posting this earlier today, but it gave me time to make sure that it’s just how I want.  I hope you enjoy!  Reader is divorced and in her late 30s but is otherwise a blank slate.  Big thank you to @wheresarizona​ and @just-here-for-the-moment​ for the help!

Comments and reblogs very much appreciated!

Previous | Next

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio and on my Masterlist

Just a little more…

You like that?

So good for me…

Let me hear you…

You wake up with a gasp, sweaty and tangled in your sheets, the heel of your right hand pressed against your center.  You are on the verge of coming from the hottest, filthiest sex dream you’ve ever had… starring one Joel Miller.  You debate what to do about the throbbing between your legs.  Take care of it or hope it goes away?  Your hips grind against your hand of their own accord, your body apparently deciding for you.

Relaxing your legs, you begin circling your clit.  It doesn’t take long until you’re throwing your head back as your pussy pulses around nothing.

“What the fuck?” you pant, lying limp on the bed after.  Joel’s confession seems to have flipped a switch inside you.  It has been an interesting couple of days, to say the least.  A part of you that has lain dormant for a long time has suddenly come back to life.

If your body lights up at just the memory of him kissing your hand, what will it do when he kisses your mouth? Or lower?  You whimper into your pillow as heat pools in your belly once again.

He asked you to take your time to make sure you were ready and you’ve been thinking of little else since that conversation.  On paper, it feels fast.  Your divorce is only a few months old.  But, in reality, your marriage was over long before.

You have lived enough life to know you can trust your gut.  You appreciate that he gave you time, but you know what you want.

You glance at your alarm clock.  You’re due on set in an hour, just enough time for a much needed cold shower before you head out.

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

You can hear the voiceover in your head as you watch the B-roll the crew shot last week…

When single dad, Marcus, and his daughter, Missy, aren’t busy with work and school, they love watching movies and cooking dinner together.  Marcus seemingly does it all… but he could use some help on his DIY project.

On the screen, Marcus and Missy throw a frisbee and set the table.  Marcus looks over Missy’s shoulder while she does homework, and she snuggles next to him on the couch.

These two are perfect for Construction Corner.

Their project isn’t a big one – a pretty standard bathroom remodel gone awry – which means the shooting schedule is packed into just two days, with another Austin shoot scheduled for the rest of the week.

Hopefully Marcus is ready for the fan mail that’s about to come his way… there is going to be A LOT of it.  An attractive single dad is HGTV catnip.  God knows Joel gets an astronomical amount.  At first, the network sent it to him, but he quickly asked that they stop.  He just couldn’t handle that much attention.

You wonder what he would think of what you did this morning… waking up to thoughts of him and getting yourself off.  Embarrassment heats your skin, and you fan yourself with your notebook to cool down.  Then another thought occurs to you… what if he liked the idea?  That has you fanning yourself even more.

“Hey, lady!” Your dirty thoughts are interrupted by a friendly voice nearby.

“Marlene! Hi! I didn’t know you were visiting today.”  You wrap your friend up in a big hug.  One of the best parts about shoot days in Austin were that friends often came to set to visit.  Marlene works for the local PBS station that first aired Construction Corner.  Since the show moved to HGTV, you haven’t seen nearly as much of her.

“I thought we would stop by to say hello.” Just then, Marlene’s adopted daughter, Ellie, a precocious 8-year-old, spies Joel near the craft services table.

“Jooooooeeeellll!” She squeals as she runs over to him and leaps into his arms.

“Hello, darlin’,” he laughs as he gives her a hug. “You got a joke for me?”

“Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?” she asks seriously.

“I dunno, why did the monkey fall out of the tree?” he replies, just as seriously.

“Cuz it was dead,” Ellie replies dryly.

“Ellie!” Joel barks out a surprised laugh.  “What’s your mama lettin’ you watch?”  He looks over to Marlene, who smiles and shrugs.  “Want to go look at the tools?”  Ellie nods enthusiastically, and the two of them set off together, but not before Joel looks back at you and winks.

“What was that?” Marlene turns to you in confusion.

“Oh… well…”

“Spill.”

“It’s just that… we might… start seeing each other,” you mumble.

“Lady! That’s great!” She pulls you into another hug.

“You think so?  It’s all very new.”

“Of course, I think so! You deserve the very best, and Joel is one of the best men I know.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that.  It’s a little weird, with work and all… but I really want to,” you admit with a whine.

“It’s not like either of you actually works for the other.  Go for it!”

“I think I will,” you smile to yourself.  Joel and Ellie are making their way back to you.  Ellie is chattering excitedly about something while Joel nods along.

“Well, we’d better take off,” Marlene takes Ellie’s hand.  “It was great to see you both!”

After another round of hugs and whispered promises to tell her everything, Marlene and Ellie make their way back to their car, leaving you and Joel standing together for the first time since your hotel room last week.

“Hi,” he ventures, tentatively.

“Hi,” you reply, biting your lip. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last week.”

“Is that right?” the low rasp of his voice sends a swoop of pleasure to your belly.

“I think I’d like to go on that date you offered.”

Joel’s eyes crinkle as he breaks into a slow grin.  “How about tomorrow?  I’ll pick you up at 7.”

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

“What we’re gonna do next is caulk around the new countertop,” Joel explains to Marcus and Missy as you listen over the monitor.  “I’m gonna show you a trick to make sure it’s nice and neat, not like what was in here before.”  Marcus looks sheepish.  “It’s ok, it’s trickier than it looks.  The pros do this all day and make it look easy.  But we’re gonna use tape.”  Joel holds up a roll of blue painter's tape and then starts lining it up carefully on either side of where the caulk line will be.

He hands two rolls of tape to Marcus and Missy and lets them do the rest.  Once they’ve finished, he continues, “You’ll lay your line of caulk, smooth it with your finger, then remove the tape and have a straight and even line. Ready?” Joel hands the caulk gun to Marcus.

Marcus takes it from him solemnly and does as Joel explained.  Joel nods his approval as Marcus pulls off the tape, leaving a perfectly caulked vanity.

“See how nice that looks?  Don’t be a hero.  Use the tape,” Joel says, patting Marcus on the back.

“Hear that, Dad?” Missy interjects.

“I heard him,” Marcus laughs and hip-checks his daughter.  Joel smiles at them proudly, another job complete.

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

You open your door to a very handsome man.

Joel has cleaned up since the shoot this afternoon.  He replaced his worn work jeans with dark, crisp ones that hug his hips.  Instead of a t-shirt, he wears a button-down with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up.  His hair is stylishly mussed.  Knowing him, it probably just does that on its own.

His warm brown eyes skate up your body, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you reply, shy under his gaze.  You opted for a sundress since the fall evening was still rather warm, the fabric brushing softly over your skin.

Joel reaches for your hand and leads you to his truck, opening the door for you to climb in.  He circles the front and gets in his door as you settle yourself in the seat.

“I made us a reservation at Fonda San Miguel, if that’s alright?”

“Joel, that’s my favorite restaurant!  It sounds wonderful.” You reach over and squeeze his arm.  He smiles happily as he puts the truck into gear.

“Thought I remembered somethin’ like that,” he says casually as he turns out of your parking lot, and your heart squeezes.

Dinner passes in a blur of delicious food and lively conversation.  Fonda San Miguel’s eclectic backdrop is perfect for a relaxed yet special first date.

You and Joel know each other well, so there isn’t the awkwardness of most first dates, but there’s still a lot you don’t know about each other’s histories.

Over bacon wrapped shrimp with jalapeño and cheese, you fill him in on your marriage and divorce, how you’ve realized that you’ve been lonely for a long time.

While digging into Cochinita Pibil, he tells you how he had never dreamed that he would be able to provide a college education for Sarah, how his dreams are so much bigger now, how he wants to do good in the world.

Between bites of a shared Tres Leches Cake, you agree that this feels right and exciting.  Your eyes lock over the table.

On the drive back to your apartment, words begin to fail as anticipation builds between you.

Joel gets out of the truck first and opens your door.  He holds your hand as you lower yourself out of the cab.

You’ve barely touched tonight – only chaste hands over the table – but now your body is just inches away from his, and you sway towards him.  He moves his hand to your waist.

“Can I kiss you?” he rasps with an edge of desperation.

You nod eagerly, and he closes the short distance between you.  His plush lips brush gently against yours – exploring, tasting.  He cradles your jaw in his strong hands as he delves into your mouth, urging you to open for him.  You grasp his hips to hold yourself steady.

The heat of his body warms you through your thin sundress and you can’t get enough.  Your hands roam over his muscled back and down his firm biceps.  His mouth on yours is warm… soft… insistent.  After an eternity, and far too soon, he breaks the kiss.

“Would you like to come inside for a drink?” you blurt out and he nods at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

You lead him into your apartment and into the tiny kitchen.  The door has barely closed behind him when he spins you up against the counter and dives back into your mouth.  His hands roam more freely this time, digging into your hip bones and sliding up your ribs, nudging at the swell of your breasts.

You press into his front and are rewarded with the hard line of his erection against your stomach.  You moan and grind into him even more.

“You’re gonna kill me with the sounds you make, sweetheart,” Joel growls, nipping at your neck, hands moving lower over your ass.  With a hand under each thigh, he hoists you up onto the counter.  Your knees frame his slim hips.  You pull him towards you with your heels, craving friction against your center.

His hands dip under the hem of your skirt.  They skate up your bare thighs until his thumbs brush the edge of your underwear – calloused fingertips on silky skin.

“Please, Joel,” you beg between wet, desperate kisses.  He complies and slips his thumb under, cursing raggedly when he finds your slippery folds.

You rock your hips into his hand as he kisses down your neck and across your collarbone all the while circling your clit.  You come undone with a gasp of his name and slump against his chest.

Joel holds you firmly against him as he drags his mouth across your temple, your forehead, and finally back to your lips for slow, languid kisses as your breathing evens out.

“I should go,” he rumbles against your mouth.

“But… no... what about you?” you look up at him in hazy confusion.

“I’ll be ok,” he assures you before dragging his thumb down your cheek and pulling at your lower lip.  “It’s getting late… and I want to take my time with you.”  A shiver runs up your spine at the promise in his words.

“Don’t go, please,” you whisper, looking up at him.

“Sweetheart, I know, I’m sorry,” he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you, “but we have to be on set so early tomorrow.  We don’t have time tonight for what I have planned for you.”  He pulls back and lifts your chin to look you in the eye.  “I promise, I’ll make it worth the wait.”

You whimper and his eyes flash with want.  But he’s a patient man – a man who does things the right way – so, he helps you down from the counter and kisses you deeply at the door one last time before heading out into the night.

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

Previous | Next

A/N: for anyone not familiar, this episode’s cameo is from the movie “We Can Be Heroes”

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist - in reblog

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Johanna is 100% the filthiest, but the close runner up I honestly feel like is Peeta, and I'm not even saying that to be funny.

Peeta is a sweetheart. An angel. A froofy poofy scrumptious little kitten baby meow meow poodle boy. When he's not in public, he cusses like a fuckin' dog. Not even to be crude! I don't think he'd even realize he's cursing half the time. Like he would drop a spoon or something and just go "Fuck." And if someone scolded him or told him he cursed he would just go "Oh shit, did I?" Again, not realizing it. We all heard about his household, you can't tell me they did not curse inbetween ever other word there. His momma was chef Gordon Ramsey, change my mind. (Spoiler: you won't.)

Haymitch is third in place, which is still high but surprisingly low for him. I feel like Effie would keep him in line with at least half decent manners. Really, it kinda depends on how drunk he is. Sober Haymitch rarely cusses, drunk drunk Haymitch doesn't use any other language, really.

Finnick was fourth. RIP🕊

Gale I feel like would be like one of those people who uses swears to emphasize his point. Like he cusses regularly, but when he's passionate about something he starts kinda fluffing them on, like "That's fucking bad" instead of "That's bad." It has a somewhat 12 year old/frat boy quality to it, like Jojo Siwa. No disrespect, just an acknowledgment.

Katniss would be used to censoring herself due to Prim and just in general being quiet, but after the war when she's tired of keeping up a public image and there's no young ones nearby to hear her, she will make it quite known that she is "out of fucks to give." Honestly?? I think she's that kind of person that won't curse around a new acquaintance for the longest time and then when you finally hear her curse it is a really dramatic "FUCK!" After she cuts herself while skinning a rabbit or something, and you're just really shocked but in that supportive friend way like "Hell yeah!! Be comfortable cursing around me friend!! I will now start cursing to support you!!"

That friend is Delly at number seven.

Number eight we have got Madge. Did got Madge.🕊 RIP girlie, you would've loved 'Good Luck, Babe!' By Chappell Roan.

Prim and Mrs. Everdeen are tied for ninth. They would both have their reasons for not cursing, Mrs. Everdeen being she respects proper manners and was raised to act decent (I think that's even touched on in the books.) I can't imagine she would view cursing as appropriate by any means at all. And Prim would have the wolves clawing at her throat between her mother and Katniss if she even uttered a "Damn." However, when they're working on a dying patient I would think that goes out the windows so slightly, and they'd just start using whatever English comes out of their mouth first without a care what they or anyone else says.

And finally, at number ten, we have the ever so lady like Effie Trinket. Who keeps everyone else in line and absolutely detests foul language. However, like a Southern Baptist grandmother, she would absolutely find the most creative loopholes that would not technically count as swears, but would be said with such hatred and contempt that it would still make everyone pause as if she just screamed "CUNT!" at full volume in a crowded store.

Personally, I think whenever someone curses in the books with some light word like "stinking," that's just Suzanne (or Katniss if you subscribe to my memoir theory,) censoring the actual statement of that characters so thr editors/public wouldn't have a cow. Hijacked Peeta did not use the word 'stinking' in actuality when screaming his head off about Katniss, I'm sorry. I'm going to always believe he screamed the most vile, potential slur about her imaginable that would make everyone shit if it was revealed. But that's just a theory.

very important question.

cursing and THG characters. Who curses. Who doesn't curse? What are their favorite curses? Who is the FILTHIEST and why ISNT it Johanna?

[demolition-lovers-blog]

MAFIA HARRY X Y/N

 Part 3 

Smut 

 Harry sat in his office he had work he needed to do but he just could t get himself to focus. His mind going back to last night when he fucked y/n’s mouth he never thought he would want to be with with someone who wasn’t very experienced let alone a virgin, but as he sits here remembering her innocent eyes looking up at him with his cock in her mouth he knows he was wrong so very fucking wrong. He knows this also changed things he was used to having lovers, flings, one night stands whatever you wanted to call it, he knows that y/n is much soften then the woman he has been with, does this mean he’s going to take it easy on her while he does the filthiest things he can think of, he’ll no. He knows he will have to be aware of her feelings, she will have them if she doesn’t already and he isn’t a fan of girls feelings, he usually just cares about making them cum and then emptying himself into and leaving no messy emotions involved

. As he sits and thinks about it not sure if he can give her that if he can’t he would have to stop this now and let her find someone who will be able to give her those things but the thought of that makes his blood boil, he thinks he would kill anyone who tried to touch his girl. Shit he just said his girl he laughs to himself he guesses he had already made up his mind even before really thought about it. He gives up to tying to work and instead go find the girl that has been taking up residence in his mind all day. He is about to head upstairs to see if she is in her room when movement catches his eye out by the pool. He knows she is laying in a lounger because he can see a silhouette in the bright sun, but he is not prepared for what he sees when he comes up to her eyes finally adjusting to the sun.

     Y/n is laying out in one the smallest bikinis he has ever seen and he swears his cock got instantly hard. Fuck, she was beautiful, her body was thick in all the right places. He takes another minute to just drink her in, eyes closed headphones on she doesn’t even notice that Harry is standing there. He thinks she must of fell asleep, so he takes this opportunity to crawl up her gorgeous body then leaning his head down he starts kissing her neck. Y/n’s eyes open slowly at first then widening when she realizes what is going on, she barely has time to register what is happening in her mind when her body had already responded a small moan before she can catch it falling from her lips. “Hi baby, did you have a nice nap.” He asks in between slow sensual kisses working from behind her ear trailing down her n close. All she can do is nod, finding no works able to fall from her lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you and the way your mouth felt rapped around my cock.” 

Y/n blinks she doesn’t know how to respond to that , how does one respond to that comment when you have a very limited sex life and limited was probably over exaggerating she muses. “Did you like sucking my cock baby?” Y/n didn’t even have to think about it she did she truly did enjoy it, so she answers him honestly. “Yes” she breathed out. “That’s right it’s the only cock your gonna put in your sweet little mouth. Understand?” He says the last word with more power. “It’s the only one I want, I swear .”

    She sighs out as he grinds down on her pussy with his hard cock, she has such a thin barrier between her clit and his rough jeans and she raises her hips without even realizing. “Needy little girl.” He growled into her ear and it sent shivers down her spine. “How about I repay the favor, hmm would you like that?” He breathes in her ear. “Do you want my mouth on your greedy little pussy sweetheart?” She nodded her head almost like a eager little puppy. He lifts his head up and smirks down at her before he leans in to mesh his lips with hers in a kiss that has y/n’s toes curling. “Your so cute baby, but you need to tell me in words.” Y/n swallows hard trying to find the words that she knows Harry wants to hear. “Please, Harry, please put your mouth on me.” He looked her in the eyes “where baby?” He asks as he starts kissing down her neck making his way down to her breast pulling the fabric of one side of her bikini over and taking a nipple into his mouth. “Where do you want my mouth?” He asks as he moved to take the other nipple into his mouth giving it a hard suck.” My pussy.” She blurts out before she can even censor her answer. “Fuck, that’s right I’m gonna eat that greedy little pussy.” 

    He looks up at her meeting her nervous eyes. He softens a bit remembering that this is all still new to her. He gives her a genuine smile no smirk this time. “Relax baby, I’m gonna make you feel good, the only thing you need to do is just lay there and enjoy how I make you feel.” He tells her while he is undoing the ties on the bottom of her bikini. Gerry pulls away the fabric that is keeping him from what he really wants. “So pretty baby.” He says almost to himself without another word he nuzzles himself between her thighs and breaths in, sighs and then with a shocking yelp falling from y/n’s lips she dives in and licks her folds savoring the taste on his tongue before going back in. 

     He takes a two fingers and separates her lips and licks up to her clit but not giving it any attention. Flattening his tongue he wants all he can get of her sweat pussy, he thinks this might be the closest he has ever been to heaven and he knows now that he never wants anyone else he wants no he thinks he needs this pretty innocent perfect little girl to be his and only his. Harry has been teasing around her clit but never making contact with the pretty little bud that is begging for his attention, he pulls the hood back with his thumb and he sucks her clit into his mouth and almost instantly y/n moans and he wants to hear more of that, wants he moans to be a song that plays over and over again in his head. He continued licking into her no longer ignoring the pulsing bud as he teases a finger at her drippy hole, he pushes in slowly and she moans loader but then it turns into a wine.

       She starts breathing heavy and he can feels her squeezing his finger already, and again he is brought back to how innocent and inexperienced she really is. “Harry” she breathed out, and he just hummed into her. “ I know baby, I can feel it, I feel your pussy pulsing around my finger, go ahead sweetheart cum for me so I can taste your juices. Come on let go.” He commands her and y/n feels the tingling starting at her toes and working it’s way up her body until it explodes like euphoria thru her and she shudders and shakes as he hold her down and continued licking her thru her after shocks. 

 She’s starts pushing his head away murmuring “too much, too much.” Harry let’s out a soft laugh and moves back up so he can kiss her properly and let her see just how good she taste.  “We are going to have to work on you consoling your orgasms baby, I’m coming to show you what edging and overstimulating can really do to you, but in time. First things first I need to fuck you, you have me so hard and the only place I want to putty my cock is in your cunt.” Harry says as he gets up from the lounger and extends his hand to her. “Come on sweet girl, your first time needs to be in a bed.” She wines as he pulls her up. “None of that now.” He gives her a pointed look as he takes a towel and wraps it around her. “Brats get punished and virgin or not I’ll spank your ass till you learn to listen to me.” Y/n gasps she knew Harry had a dominant personality he had to you can’t be the head of a mafia with being dominant, but does she want threat in a partner. It’s almost like Harry reads he mind as he looks over his shoulder at her. “ Don’t worry baby you’ll love it.” And who is she to argue she thinks he has told her this before and he has been right, she has loved everything he told her she would.

[sakurashell]

I’m gonna fight my insomnia talking about an insomniac right now. Jokes aside, this has been eating my brain for a while and it might sound stupid, but hear me out.

Levi’s pretty quiet, not counting the times in your bedroom when you’re together and you pull the sweetest moans and the filthiest words out of his mouth, while you whimper and whine because he touches you just in the right way. After all, he’s memorized every inch of your skin by now, and going over it relentlessly it’s his favorite hobby.

Apart from that, the only other occasion in which he fails to be quiet as he usually is, it’s when he misses you and you can’t pay attention to him because you’re busy, or you’re at work. Misses you as in “no matter if we live together, eat and sleep under the same roof and I get to see her every day of my life, if an hour goes by with us barely talking cause she’s focused on something, I miss her”. That’s exactly what goes on inside his brain, except he’d never tell you directly for the sake of not seeing your stupid cocky smile when you tell him that he’s a bit clingy.

You do it merely to rile him up a bit, you don’t mean it. In fact, you love this side of your boyfriend. He’s probably the less annoying person in the whole world — unlike you — and puts up with your bullshit constantly, considering he’s not even prone to showing affection or anything of the sort, you deem yourself lucky for being able to know a part of him nobody else will probably ever see, or believe it exists in the first place.

Now, usually after a long day at work you come home and just straight away make your way to the bathroom to take a refreshing shower, not having to worry too much about doing any chores since — lucky for you — Levi’s taken care of it already. You’re also usually the one who goes to him after you’re done, and encircles your arm around his torso while he’s busy making dinner for the both of you, but sometimes he just can’t wait for you to do so.

That’s why your routine has to wait, because occasionally, when you open the door and set foot inside the house, you barely have any time to place your bag on the table and stretch your arms out a little, before he’s in front of you with an expression that you’re not quite able to read right away. “Hey, Lev. Sorry I’m late, my boss kept me a bit longer with the excu—” and he cuts you off right before you can start rambling about whatever your piece of shit of a boss did to you today, cupping your face with his hands and resting his forehead against yours.

He sighs in relief like you’ve been gone for months and he’s finally seeing you again, thumbs drawing circles on the apples of your cheeks, “You’ll tell me about her later, pay attention to me now,” he demands, lips shamelessly hovering over yours while your arms settles around his neck, “I missed you.” and then he kisses you as though he doesn’t have any second to waste anymore. No, not even that, he kisses you as though you’re a source of oxygen and he needs you to breathe properly again.

It’s intimate, a little gesture that means more than every big display of love combined, because it’s just so genuine and sincere. His hands skim over your body like he’s trying to remind himself that you were gone merely for a few hours, and that you’re with him again now. It conveys everything you need to know, the way he kisses you and embraces you, and it’s no wonder every distractions and concerns are long forgotten once you’re in the bedroom, and you’re focusing on making him the less quiet he could possibly be.

[rebeccccccaaa]

Ѕтдсч’ѕ Мом

_________________________

ɴᴀᴛᴀsʜᴀ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴏғғ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: fucking stacy’s mom dude; what else is there to say?

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: milf!nat good god, age gap [not established but over 21 cuz drinks lol and pretty big but consensual ofc], major mommy kink lol, unnecessarily using the phrase ‘stacy’s mom’ too much, i might end doing another part even though it’s a long one

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: stacy’s mom has got it going on ;)

__________________________

“Did you hear me?” Stacy asked you.

“Huh?” you snapped your head back to her completely unsure of what she said.

You two were hanging around the pool soaking in the sun. It was summer and your college classes didn’t start for another six weeks. You’ve been spending your summer with Stacy and her mom at her beach/fucking big ass mansion in California.

Stacy’s mom worked as an architect or something back home in New York with Stark Industries so to say they were rich would be a huge understatement. She was practically a billionaire like the owner himself. Also the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You’ve had a crush on her since the day you met her back home in New York.

“I asked if you wanted to order pizza? We can get something else but I’m not cooking without my mom,” she giggled.

The day that Stacy’s mom went back to New York for a business trip you guys attempted to make pancakes. Fucking pancakes. And almost burned down the house. Everyday since, you guys have been buying and ordering delivery on everything; she had the money so.

“Oh sure that’s cool. Maybe we can go pick up some beer too?” you suggested.

“I like the way you think, Y/l/n,” Stacy said, pulling out her phone.

You laid back down letting the sun warm your skin before you turned your head back to Stacy.

“When is your mom coming back?”

“Um, I’m not sure but probably sometime this weekend, she shouldn’t have been gone that long. Why? You miss her? Like her more than me?” Stacy jokes, making you flush and get defensive.

“What? No, I was just asking,” you told her.

“Hey, relax I’m just messing with ya,” she laughed.

You breathed out heavily and tried to distract your thoughts but you weren’t doing a good job as you instantly started thinking about Stacy’s mom. Goddammit. You two went inside and heard a knock on the big glass front door and Stacy ran to get the door. The pizza is probably here.

You went ahead to the guest room you occupied and instantly took a cold shower. You were sweaty and overheated from sunbathing not from the insensitive thoughts about Stacy’s mom bending you over the side of the pool as she pumped her fingers in and out of you whispering the filthiest things in your ear, definitely not from that.

You came out and the smell of greasy pizza overcame you. You walked into the kitchen finding the pizza sitting on the counter and you walked over to grab your slice. You stuff the slice in your mouth before turning to grab a beer from the fridge. You grabbed the beer and shut the fridge door only to be completely taken by surprise.

“Got enough for one more gal?” your eyes widen and your breath hitched making you almost choke on the pizza still stuffed in your mouth. You pulled the pizza out and chewed rapidly as her gorgeous smile widened at your flustered state.

“Miss Romanoff, you’re back,” you said, your mouth still full.

“Yup, just got back,” she nodded towards the baggage piled by the living room couch.

“Cool,” you swallowed audibly.

“Mom! You’re back,” Stacy came in; thankfully.

“Hi hon. You two holding up with delivery and junk?” she joked nodding towards the pizza on the counter and in your hand along with the beer.

“Hey, we tried to cook something but we almost burnt the house down so we just gave up,” Stacy explained, grabbing a greasy slice of pizza.

“Ugh, you girls need to learn how to cook. This stuff isn’t good for you to have all day everyday.”

“Well, if you hadn’t left us,” Stacy said sarcastically with a mocking grin.

“Trust me, I didn’t want to,” she said, looking at you.

A few hours had passed and you sat in the living room watching movies with Stacy and her mom. The movie was quite scary since those were Stacy’s favorite and during a particular quiet and suspenseful scene your stomach growled embarrassingly loud causing both of the women to snap their heads to you.

“I- I’m so sorry, I’m really hungry,” you mumbled shyly.

“Lemme order something,” Stacy said, grabbing her phone.

“No, no, no. you girls are done with the takeout. Come on; go wash your hands. We’re gonna cook something together.”

You and Stacy stood at the counter covered in flour tiredly kneading dough with your hands. Stacy’s mom grew up in Russia and she wanted to teach you guys how to make her favorite dish that her mom always made for her for lazy summer nights just like this one.

“Ugh, my hands hurt,” Stacy complained.

“That means you're doing it right,” her mom snickered.

She came up behind you closer than you’d like peering over your shoulder like a vulture. She rested her hand on either side of you cagin you in, pressing against the counter suggestively. You breathing quicken and you could feel her breath fanning over your shoulder and chills erupted all over your skin.

“You doing alright?” she asked you, of which you silently nodded afraid that your voice would betray you embarrassingly in front of her and her daughter.

“Good girl,” she whispered, squeezing your hip making you jolt.

“You good?” Stacy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said sneaking a glance at Stacy’s mom who carried mischief in her eyes.

You continued to slowly but surely make your dinner for the night until suddenly the doorbell rang and echoed across the gigantic house.

“Expecting company, you two?” Stacy’s mom asked.

“Not that we know of?” Stacy said wiping her hand on her apron before scurrying to the front door.

“You’re doing so good, Y/n,” Stacy’s mom teased.

“Th- Thank you,” you mumbled timidly.

“Of course. Anytime, hon,” she whispered getting closer to you.

“Miss Romanoff,” you whispered, turning your head.

“Yeah?” she smiled softly, her lips impossibly close to yours.

“I- uh, you’re-”

“What are you guys doing?” Stacy asked.

“Y/n’s got something in her eye; poor thing,” she said and you instantly started blinking quickly and rubbing your eye, feigning that uncomfortable feeling.

“Oh no, do you need eye drops?” Stacy asked sincerely, guess she bought it.

“No, I think I’m ok,” you told her quickly.

That’s when you actually registered your surroundings again after being suffocated by Stacy’s mom’s perfume and lusting atmosphere. God, you want this woman to fuck you so badly.

“What’re you doing here?” Stacy’s mom asked in her usual playful manner.

“Well, I wanted to surprise Stacy by taking her to a weekend getaway in Malibu; had I known you had guests. I don’t mean to exclude you,” Jason, Satcy’s boyfriend arrived without notice.

“Oh, it’s ok. I’ve been here all summer. You should go; spend some summertime with your boyfriend for a bit,” you smiled at Stacy.

“Really? I don’t want to leave you all alone,” Stacy said.

“She won't be alone; she’ll be with me,” Stacy’s mom said smirking at you; she pressed her hand to your lower back making you stiffen.

“Think you can handle my mom for the entire weekend alone?” Stacy said laughing but you weren’t.

“Can you?” her mom teased.

“I’ll try,” you said shakily. You were not ready.

“Ok, ok. Let me go pack,” Stacy said, turning to Jason excitedly.

Jason followed in pursuit hot on her heels leaving you alone for a moment with her mom. She caged you in her arms as she did before, pressing her hips flushed against your bottom. You gasped softly feeling her cold hands riding up your back under your shirt.

“Miss Romanoff,” you choked.

“Nat; we’re close, aren’t we?” she whispered in your ear.

“What are you doing?” you felt her nails lightly scratching your back making you shudder.

“We’re gonna have the whole weekend to ourselves, hon,” she smirked devilishly.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when her hands brushed to your front, her thumbs grazing the bottom of your breasts.

“Ok, all ready; I think,” you heard Stacy and her boyfriend coming down the stairs. Nat, pushed her herself off you and walked over to her daughter and her boyfriend, swaying her hips just a little bit more than usual knowing you’d kept your eyes subtly trained on them.

“Have fun you two. We’ll see you guys Monday?”

“Monday night,” Jason said.

“Bye mom. Bye, Y/n.”

You waved them off with a small smile, your stomach doing flips anticipated what the hell this woman had in store for you. If she was even going to lay a hand on you, you had no fucking idea. You just stay still, absolutely unmoving, behind the counter.

“Alright, hon. Let’s finish this dinner,” Nat said, turning to you.

Throughout finishing cooking, Nat kept her hands to herself but that didn’t mean she stopped teasing you. Every time you did something correctly, she whispered praises to you that made you wet, arousal pooling between your thighs uncontrollably.

You sat at the counter next to her quietly eating what you made with her help. She watched you carefully to see if you’d like the food and you weren’t going to lie, the food was amazing.

“You did it all by yourself, малышка. Such a good girl you are,” she whispered making you tremble. She picked up your empty plate and carried it to the sink. You sat still in your seat before Nat came up behind, moving your hair from your shoulder and neck. She leaned down and pressed her lips lightly against your burning skin.

“Miss Romanoff,” you said suddenly standing abruptly.

“Yes, hon,” she said.

“W- we, we can’t-” you heavily stuttered.

“Ok,” she responded.

“Wh- what?”

“Ok; I’m sorry,” she stepped away from you. You don’t know why you were so surprised, you literally told her to stop.

“Ok,” you whispered.

“Good night, hon,” she said walking away.

When she was out of sight you huffed deeply feeling like you could finally breathe normally again. You trotted hastily upstairs seeing as Nat was seemingly in her room. You walked up to her door cautiously, light peering from under the door; reaching for the handle but ultimately shied away thinking about the fact that she was your best friend’s mother.

“Fuck, this is wrong,” you said to yourself frustratingly.

You went to your own room closing the door as quietly as possible. You tried to occupy your mind as best as you could running a shower, brushing your teeth, even re-folding your clothes that were already tucked neatly in your drawers. You couldn't shake the feeling of the way her lips felt against your skin.

You were so desperate to be in that position again and Stacy’s out of the house; the opportunity was perfect but of course you cowarded away running off to your room lying to yourself that you didn’t desperately want to spend the night in her bed.

You looked at the time and saw that it was around ten at night deciding it was late enough to hit the sheets; not the ones you want but whatever at point honestly. That proved to be a huge struggle as you tossed and turned for hours. Everytime you close your eyes you're met with those beautiful emerald green eyes that you find yourself getting lost in everytime you see them.

“Ugh, shit,” you groaned, unable to sleep.

You stood up abruptly throwing your sheets to the floor paying no mind to the mess you made. You swung the door open and stomped to her room. You were furious that this woman, who clearly didn’t do anything, was keeping from sleeping peacefully as you had been in the previous nights.

You stood silently in front of her door breathing heavily. What were you thinking? What were you gonna do; yell at this poor woman who didn't do anything? But she did. She kissed you.

“Are you gonna stand out there like a creep or are you gonna let yourself in?” her muffled voice came from beyond the door and your eyes widened.

You hastily turned the knob to her door finding her resting beautifully in the golden dimmed light on her large white bed; the sheets so fluffy she looked like an angel resting on a cloud. She had a book in hand, it was Russian so you couldn’t understand the words. But nevermind that, you stood in front of the closed door with an angry expression on your face.

“Now what’s got your panties in a twist, hon?” she asked, a smirk playing on her naturally red lips.

“You,” you retorted.

“And what do you want me to do about those panties?” she closed her book, setting it on her night stand. God, why did she say it like that?

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why’s that?” she knows why; she’s got you wrapped around her dainty little finger.

“You kissed me,” you said quickly.

“Uh, correction. I kissed your neck,” she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to stand up.

“You- you, you put your hands on me. And- and, and you stopped.”

“Because you said to,” she walked up to you, making your stomach flip.

“I didn’t really mean it,” you whispered shyly.

“Really?” she whispered back.

“Do you want me to put my hands on you again?” she asked seductively.

You hesitated refusing to look her in those perfect green eyes because you know you fall when you do.

“Look at me and use those big girl words,” she whispered, her breath fanning across your face.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” she teased.

You looked up at her letting out a shaky breath. You were about to pass the point of no return and looking into those hypnotizing sage eyes you wanted nothing more than to let her have her way with you.

“Please kiss me,” you whimpered.

Nat grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you flushed against her body kissing you feverishly. Your eyes fluttered closed, moving your lips with hers. Her hands ran up under your shirt ghosting your skin making your skin burst into chills. You practically trembled under her cold hands.

“Красотка,” she whispered against your lips.

“Huh?’ you mumbled dazed and confused by the sudden change of dialect; that was very hot keep in mind.

“абсолютно очаровательны,” she chuckled.

“Wha-?” you stuttered. What the fuck just happened?

She lifted her hands up your body as did you, lifting you shirt off your body. She practically growled at the sight of your breasts. She leaned down, licking along the valley of your breasts peering up at you with those big eyes you loved so much.

She kneeled to the ground pulling your pajama bottoms down your legs torturously slowly. You wiggled your knees back and forth whining at her teasing but she simply nipped and kissed your legs chuckling at your eagerness. She rubbed your legs softly standing up and rested her hands on your hips.

“You are so beautiful,” she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you said timidly.

“Come here, Красотка,” you followed her to the bed and you excitedly crawled to the center. Nat stayed standing smirking at your hypnotized expression as she peeled her shirt off her body and dragged her shorts and panties down her legs. She crawled to you with a playful smile on her lips and sat directly in front of you.

You grinned climbing onto her lap kissing her softly. Her hands ran lightly up your back as her lips moved smoothly against yours. You could feel her perky nipples brushing yours pulling soft moans from you. Her hand made its way into your hair tugging the strands to pull your head back. Her lips instantly falling to the skin of your neck sucking marking you as hers. Your breathing became static and heavy and Nat chuckled at your inexperience.

“Tell me, Y/n, have you ever been with a woman before?” she whispered in your ear, her breath making you shiver.

You shook your head.

“Words, Красотка,” she gripped your chin harshly.

“No; never,” you whispered.

“Oh, I’m gonna have fun with you, little one,” she chuckled darkly.

“Oh god,” you moaned.

“You want mommy to show you a good time?” she snickered.

“Please.”

“Lay back, baby. Mommy’s gonna be right back,” she said kissing you softly. Your stomach fluttered as you patiently waited laying on her incredibly soft bed. You turned your head to watch her leave ever so elegantly; her bottom swaying teasingly as she disappeared into her closet. She walked out with a huge strap and some silk ties and your legs started to shake from excitement? Fear? Both? Yeah, both.

“Safe word?”

“Milf,” you said cheekily, making her laugh out loud.

“Funny.” she mocked, shaking her head.

“Arms up. You let me know if it gets too much ok?” she said cupping your face sweetly.

“Ok; mommy,” you grinned before she kissed you quickly.

She moved up your body straddling your waist to tie the silk ropes around your wrists and the bedframe. You could feel the warmth from her core grinded against you and you felt yourself grow hot under her and bit your lip shyly. She peered down at your flustered state and smirked, proudly seeing you already squirming haven’t even laid a finger on you. She tugged harshly on the knots making sure you had nowhere to go and your stomach flipped when you tested it and you were unable to move your arms from their newfound position.

“Are you gonna tie my legs too?” you asked.

“We’ll take it easy the first night?” First night?

She stood at the foot of the bed staring lustfully into your eyes as she put on the strap, settling comfortably around her hips. She spit in her hand before wrapping it around the standing faux cock pumping and coating it with her saliva. You couldn't help the way you instinctively squeezed the thighs shut in an attempt to relieve yourself.

“Open those pretty legs sweetie. Let mommy take a look at your gorgeous pussy,” her words made you moan softly as you complied.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, almost to herself but you could hear her delicate words.

Her hands came up your thighs and placed them over her own. She brought her fingers down to your core and circled her finger around your entrance. You’ve been aroused since the moment she first pressed her lips against your skin downstairs; to say you were wet was an understatement, you were practically dripping already. She grinned devilishly before pushing her fingers past your folds slowly.

“We're gonna have to stretch you out if this fat cock is gonna fit inside you,” she told you.

You moaned feeling how cold her fingers were, but you loved it. Her thumb came up and pressed firmly against your clit before circling languidly. Your brows furrowed at the pleasure she was stimulating and you bit your lip trying your hardest to not moan like a pornstar.

“I wanna hear you, Красотка,” she pulled your bottom lip from between your teeth.

“Ugh, mommy. That feels so good,” you breathed out.

“Just wait til mommy gets to stuff her cock in this tight little pussy,” she practically growled. Her fingers moved faster in and out of you and you felt that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach, a feeling you often got when you thought about her with your hand between your thighs, starting to build.

“Ah shit, I’m gonna come, mommy!” you whined, tugging on the ropes.

“You wanna come? Come for mommy, Красотка,” she whispered.

Your stomach tightened and your legs squeezed tightly around her waist as you gushed all over her fingers. When you slowly came down from your first orgasm, she brought her fingers to her mouth sucking them clean. Her enchanting green eye locked with yours as she did so; god that was so hot.

“So fucking sweet,” she moaned. She grabbed her faux cock and rubbed the tip along your entrance and you jolted at the feeling.

“You gotta breathe baby, breathe,” she pushed her hips forward and your body tensed up at the stretching her cock was doing to you. Her hands grabbed your waist as she slowly began thrusting her hips in and out. You back arched off the bed; becoming a moaning mess under the stunning redhead.

Nat held a blissful expression watching you write beneath her. It had been so long since she’s ravished another in her bed. And she’s kept an eye on you for a while. You were this sweet little thing that walked through the elevator doors back home in New York and Nat knew she wanted you.

She’s always known and saw the way you let your eyes linger. The way you stuttered when she asked you a question. The way you’d instantly freeze when she grazed her fingers over your waist, or pressed her hand on your lower back to get past you for whatever. Most of the time it was just an excuse to get close to you.

You made her feel young again. Reminded here what it was like to be desired by another woman. She knew you would never muster up the courage to actually make some sort of move, especially since you are always with Stacy. Tonight was a perfect opportunity and it terrified her for that moment that she had fucked up and scared you off. She really cared about you and for you; and hurting you was damn near about to kill the woman.

“You're taking mommy’s cock so well, Красотка,” she cupped your face.

You started grunting and whining practically yanking at the restraints. Grinding your hips in rhythm with her thrust desperately chasing your second release. God, the woman made you come once and now you’re completely and utterly addicted to her.

“Now, don’t get greedy, little one. Mommy’s giving all she can; do you need to be punished? I can walk away-”

“No! Please, mommy! Don’t leave me, please,’ tears brimmed your ears; you didn’t even want to think about not being her arms right now.

“Ok, then be a good girl and stop whining like a little brat. Is that what you are? Just a greedy whore desperate for mommy’s cock?” her words made you moan and squirm even more.

“No, I’m sorry mommy,” you choked out.

“Oh, Красотка,” she sighed.

She quickly pulled out, making you almost scream. You quickly let out a string of apologies but she simply grabbed your hips and flipped you over to your stomach. She brought her hand up and striked down smacking your cheek so loud it frightened you. However the sting felt so delicious and you shudder secretly wanting more. Her hand ran up your back grabbing your hair harshly to pull your head back; her body molding perfectly against you as she spoke in your ear.

“Красотка, mommy wanted to go easy on you tonight but if you want to act like a whore, you’ll get fucked like one.”

“Fuck!” you cried when she rutted her hips back into you from behind.

Her hand grabbed the globes of your ass, kneading the hot flesh from her spanks. Your upper body was being propped by your elbows until Nat hit a particular spot inside you that made you collapse. Nat smiled proudly to herself, continuing to drive her hips into you.

“Красотка, I can tell you want to come,” she said.

“Yes! Please, mommy let me come! Your cock feels so good,” you moaned muffled by the sheets your face was buried in.

“Go ahead, Красотка. Let go all over Mommy’s cock,” she granted.

“Fuck!” you back arched and your head was thrown back; your toes curled.

You practically trembled feeling Nat’s faux cock hit deeper inside you than any other partner, which wasn’t many to begin with, had ever reached before. Your eyes rolled so far back you felt like you were about to pass out. You’ve never been in such a euphoria high quite like this before and it was overwhelming. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you cried Nat’s name until everything went black for a moment.

You pried your tired eyes open realizing you were tucked closely by Nat’s side.

“There she is,” Nat cooed.

“I didn’t hurt, did I?” she asked softly.

“No, I feel great,” you giggled.

“You did so well, Красотка,” she kissed your forehead, cuddling you closer.

“What does that mean? The name you called me,” you asked.

“It means ‘beautiful girl’,” she whispered looking into your eyes.

Fucking hell, you were falling in love with this woman more and more with every passing second. You casted your eyes away shyly but she cupped your face and made you look at her again.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” she teased.

“I know it might be wrong, but I’m in love with Stacy’s mom,” you told her.

She smiled softly before kissing you passionately, literally taking your breath away. No other words were exchanged. You simply closed your eyes and basked in what could be the only night you get to spend with someone as perfect as Natasha.

==================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (Natasha’s Fics)

@natasha-danvers

@fayhar

@mitchiesdungeon

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Alright, I’ve mopped myself up off the floor, re-hinged my jaw and cracked my knuckles to try and explain how this fic rode me roughshod to near ruin (geettttttt it) 🤪. Hoooo girl. I say ‘jealous Anthony’ and you give me ropes, riding crops, growling commands and ultimate dom control. Your girl needs to make it to the end of this series, and you are dangerously close to laying me out in a coma 🙃 Particularly threatening to my constitution were the following moments:

‘A warm finger catches the drip and pushes it back to your mouth, his pupils dilating. “Can’t quite swallow it all; that looks familiar,”’ OH MY GOD WE ARE SIX LINES IN FAYE!!! SIX 👏 LINES 👏 FORGET THE FOREPLAY WE’RE JUST PLOUGHING ON IN This is one of the filthiest things he says in the entire fic 😵 Holy fucking hellll…..I wasn’t sure I was going to survive this one. I was already electrified…

“We both know being on your knees is your favourite place after being face down over my desk,” JESUS FUCK STOP OH MY GOD THEY’RE NOT EVEN ALONE YET!!!! Benace? Move over. This is Annihilanthony. 🥵🤯

“They are an addictive cocktail.” Cocktail…manbread…this is my kind of happy hour 🍸

“There is all sorts of equipment in here I want to use on you,” Oh god, oh lord, my eyes are crossing already…. 😵😵😵

And then the discovery. I knew it was coming of course, but ooooooo how I stopped breathing! 😱 I can just hear him growling. Incredulous. Furious. It’s terrifying but also so damn enticing. The hair pulling, oooooofff. But then the cracks start to reveal themselves. He is hurt, genuinely. Kind of no one’s fault if they didn’t have exclusivity established. It still wounds me a bit to hurt Anthony’s heart though, my sweet damaged boy 😢 says the woman who thought up this whole damn scenario

Standing ovation for your allstar cleverness with the loophole 🤪 [insert loophole gif here] You should be an attorney because that is some crafty phrasing 😉

“Mutually assured destruction can seem so appealing behind glowing brown eyes and sharp cheekbones…This is why you can’t resist him. He knows how to give you things you never knew you needed but want so much your blood sings—makes you ache for him, addicted to him like no one else.” This is poetry. If folks were wondering what it was that draws Reader to Anthony, you’ve explained it right here. It’s the danger, the challenge, the excitement. The explosive release after being pushed to limits she didn’t know existed. He is a safe partner to explore the wildest kinks with. A place where she can completely let loose, be pleasured and work out her frustrations and guilt. Maybe it’s twisted, but it’s undeniably appealing, and so rare.

“ink, smokey cigars and the tang of money, all Anthony.” Shivers down my spine at this. 🫠

 Thank you for including the deepthroating in this. 💙 (Sentences I didn’t think I’d ever write.) I know it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but lordt does it flip my wig 🥵 It was perfect - he wipes away her tears, gloating. And then “Take it” !!!!!!! I see what you did there, you sly thing!! 😉Annihilanthony’s catchphrase muahahahahaaa!!

“He has done exactly what you wanted; he has covered up Benedict’s mark on you with one of his own, bigger, better, bolder—so very Anthony. It almost feels akin to a twisted game of one-upmanship you will wear on your skin for a few days.” WOOOOOOOOO AAAGGGGGHHHHHHH The imagery of this - the sinful, twisted beauty of it all, fuccckkkkkkk. This is why I trust you with anything - take my lil baby one sentence prompt and go nuts, because you always deliver something compelling, gorgeous, and dare I say…profound 🫶

You’ve woven this into a few fics, but I ADORE how Anthony is so attentive that he can sense when Reader is floating off into sub lala land and he always commands her to stay present. It is both domming and endearing at the same time. It’s command and concern all rolled into three words. I fucking love it.

Okay, bondage is fun but has never been that high on my kink list. But SOMETHING about this precise image - this close up of Anthony’s hand: strong and veined, knuckles turning white as he grabs the rope around her back and twists it in his fist to hold her down tighter and give himself leverage, like he is mounting a rodeo bronco (seriously have you seen the way those guys grip?) There’s something so tantalizing about the contrast for me. These aristocratic hands with his sapphire ring, twisted into this rough rope to hold a lady down and drill into her it’s like…..*shiver* idk, it fucking DOES IT for me. Surprise, surprise, I guess….hand stuff is my favorite 😅 Seriously, this image in my brain is a whole story unto itself so THANK YOU for painting it!!

The orgasm control…..ummmmm…..an amazing surprise and so SO perfect for the dynamics that are going on……and also 💦

Then you weave all these similarities in between the brothers. The way Anthony so quickly untied her and rubbed her wrists, EXACTLY like Benedict did. The way they both curl up with her to recover. The way they both talk about challenging her (as she points out). You are setting her up for an impossible choice. They are both sensitive at heart, caring despite how different their demeanors (in and out of the bedroom) may be. As the saying goes: same, same, but different, but still same. How is a girl to choose???

Then oh shit. Loose lips sink ships. They sink relationships, girlie. WATCH OUT. OOOP, TOO LATE. Again, I’m upset with myself for upsetting Anthony. 😅 I remember you saying you were surprised how emotional this was getting and I understand, and LOVE it. You’re giving us raw Anthony. Realistic Anthony. Anthony the dom with a heart. It’s impossible to separate him from it. 🥺

Wow. Simply wow. Add tack rooms to the list of things I can no longer engage with without having lascivious thoughts inspired by your fics. Thankfully, I am not an equestrian nor an aristocrat with an expensive hobby so they should be easy to avoid. This was balanced so well. You had a lot of balls in the air (no, not THOSE ones) with the CNC, the emotions and the secrecy, and you juggled them perfectly. This was an explosive installment that satisfies all on its own but still leaves us wired for the crescendo 🔥 Masterful.

Reprimand

Double Bind Masterpost

PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Follow on to Endeavour. Anthony suspects you may have been seduced by another and reprimands you.

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, dom/sub relationships, mean dom, jealousy, consenting-non-consent (CNC) play, deepthroat breathplay, rope bondage, whipping with a riding crop, rough vaginal sex, orgasm control, emotions, confessions.

Word Count: 5.8k

Authors Note: Here is part 4 of the Double Bind series requested by @eleanor-bradstreet where our reader finds herself back with her original dom, Anthony. Please note, everything here is very consenting; they are just playing as if it's not. If that is at all triggering for you, please do not read this. Thank you to @colettebronte for the beta read, particularly around the CNC play. Enjoy! <3

The following night you see Anthony at a gathering—a very dull musical recital just a few doors down from Bridgerton House. He accompanies you as the respectable courting partner, your gloved wrist gently resting in the crook of his arm as you circuit the room before the show.

Once the decidedly mediocre entertainment begins, he leans close to your ear.

“You have about five more minutes, then we are leaving,” he drawls quietly. 

“Where are we going, my lord?” you whisper back. 

“Anywhere I can fuck you,” he states plainly as you struggle not to spit out the champagne you just sipped, a dribble still escaping down your chin that you attempt to dab away discreetly. He intentionally did that—waited to drop that line when you were taking a swig.

A warm finger catches the drip and pushes it back to your mouth, his pupils dilating. “Can’t quite swallow it all; that looks familiar,” he murmurs, intentionally being utterly filthy.

“Anthony!” you admonish quietly but fiercely.

“We both know being on your knees is your favourite place after being face down over my desk,” he mutters, knowing this sort of talk always gets you breathless.

And indeed, it does. “Are those five minutes up?” you ask archly.

Wordlessly, with a bemused huff, he grabs your hand and pulls you out into the aisle, briskly walking towards the rear of the room and out of the door. He keeps marching, out of the building, into the street, making a beeline for his home less than a hundred yards away.

“Your family…?” you check as you realise where he is headed.

“All at that dreaded recital. The house shall be empty except for staff. Not that it is consequential, for we are not going into the house,” he smirks back at you.

“Where are we going?” you ask as you realise he has veered into the mews running behind his property.

“Stables,” he answers as if that explains everything.

“Why?” 

“You are asking an awful lot of questions tonight,” he comments, then pauses and crowds you into a cold brick wall in the narrow dark lane. “How about you trust me and just do as you are told, you wilful little thing?” his warm breath gusts over your cheek.

Oh. It's already playtime.

“Yes, sir,” you respond instantly, and he nods and beams at you.

“Good girl,” he compliments, grabbing your chin. “Now, you will do whatever I tell you from here on out. Do you understand me?

“Yes sir,” your breath speeding up, excitement flaring low in your belly.

“I do so love you obedient,” he sighs and kisses you bruisingly, trapping you forcefully between his body and the wall. “Take off your underwear,” he commands.

“I'm not wearing any,” you stumble honestly.

He growls, “I love when you do that, behaving like a wanton whore.” He knows how aroused you get when he calls you that in play. “Show me right now; pull up your dress.”

You scramble to obey, but he quickly stills your movement. “I see people in the window of our neighbour's house. We should move on,” he offers sagely, stepping out of character and retaking your hand. 

Anthony has never been one to attempt play in public; his image as Viscount so very important to maintain. And so contrasting to his younger, bohemian brother, memories of Benedict’s sinful voice talking of you crawling naked to him in front of strangers suddenly haunt you. How can they be both so very alike and so very different simultaneously? They are an addictive cocktail.

You continue down the mews until a gate leads you into a rear courtyard—this must be the back of Bridgerton House. 

“Wait here,” he says curtly, disappearing into a side building. “Alright, you may come in; the coast is clear,” he calls a few moments later, and you follow.

It's the tack room for the stables. It smells of leather and brass. It’s warm and dry; the mahogany wood-panelled walls give it a cosy air.

“What are we doing in here?”

“There is all sorts of equipment in here I want to use on you,” he crows, closing the heavy door shut and bolting it. The only light in the room is a faint glow from the oil lanterns flickering on the courtyard walls outside and a shaft of moonlight splicing across the room from a high window.

Something in your heart rate spikes as your eyes adjust and look around to see saddles, bridals, whips and ropes. And in the middle of the room, a padded leather bench likely used to change into riding boots.

“Now, do as you were told before we were rudely interrupted,” he prompts, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms casually, an expectant eyebrow raised.

You grab your dress and gather the layers over your forearms until you feel the air swirling around your intimate area. He growls at the sight and is on you a millisecond later, kissing bruisingly, just the way you like. There is nothing more arousing for you than Anthony, this powerful, titled man, so very desperate and out of control just for you. He spins you around, and you are pushed into the wood panels, his hands wrenching open your dress buttons as you breathe hard. 

“Open your legs wider,” he gruffs, nudging your ankles with his shoe. You do so, widening your stance to shoulder width as your dress and chemise are yanked off your shoulders. “Wider,” he instructs as your clothing drops to a pool at your feet. 

You obey, kicking away your dress, standing there now in stays and silk shoes only.

“Good girl,” he compliments, pulling your hips backwards roughly, your hands reaching out to grab the wall in front on instinct. “That's it, bend over, and hold on tight,” he orders.

Your insides dance with anticipation as he drops to his knees behind you. He is usually savage with his tongue when he eats you from behind like this—pushing his whole face into your slit, into the cleft of your cheeks, very thorough in his attentions. So you are somewhat surprised when he doesn't do that. In fact, he is silent behind you for so long you almost ask what is wrong.

“What… the… fuck….is that?” he spits angrily. But it's not his play angry; it sounds worryingly close to genuine.

‘What is what?” you ask, suddenly nervous, twisting to look over your shoulder.

He jumps up to his feet and yanks you roughly back upright against him by your hair, and you squeak in shock.

“Care to explain why there are teeth marks on your inner thigh, my girl?” his voice cutting and right at your ear.

Your stomach plummets as if you have fallen from a high branch of a tree or gone over a waterfall in a barrel. Everything inside you tumbles, and your vision swims slightly.

Benedict.

It could ONLY be him—last night. You vaguely recall feeling him bite your inner thigh as he teased you. But you were so deliriously aroused you barely felt anything. Washing this morning, you did not think to look there; you just quickly bathed and went about your day. 

“It cannot be, sir,” you instantly obfuscate. “It must be a mark, from I do not know what…. from my saddle, perhaps?” you offer, taking inspiration from what is right around you.

His grip on your hair slackens. You are uncertain he believes you. Something feels tender at this moment. Precarious. Like he is vulnerable to what the marks could signify but cannot handle his response in any other way but brusquely—needing the upper hand.

“I have been foolish, perhaps, in not being clear with my boundaries. So here they are. If you are with a Bridgerton, you should only be laying with a Bridgerton, do you hear me?” he lectures, unwittingly giving you a very convenient loophole.

“Yes, sir,” you answer instantly. “I shall only lay with a Bridgerton,” you reply, almost gleeful.

“Why does that appear so entertaining?” he asks cuttingly.

“It is not, sir,” you attempt to school your expression and tone, “more that your order is very… arousing for me, sir,” your response coquettish, knowing the diversionary flattery will work on him.

“You want to be owned by me?” he gusts hot in your ear, a warm hand snaking around your belly, pulling you back forcefully into his muscular frame.

“Yes, of course, sir”, you answer. “I want to wear your name with pride,” you pant gently, slipping into your submissive role with practised ease.

“I will brand your bottom with the family crest,” he snarls, the possessive rhetoric notching up significantly.

You goad him with a challenging look over your shoulder and roll your hips, catching your bottom on the growing hardness in the front of his trousers, knowing it will spur some kind of response. 

“You wanton little whore, rubbing yourself on me like some animal in heat just because I offer to brand you with my name,” he rumbles, enjoying your tactics, grabbing your chin and making you look at him as he leans forward over your shoulder. “I should tie you up and whip you to make you obey me,” he declares, staring into your eyes.

You suddenly know why he has brought you here, to this room—to try some more advanced punishment. The fact there is now the added dimension of his suspicion makes it feel even more charged, like the static before a storm. You can't seem to look away from his turbulent mien, knowing tonight will be something new and exciting. You can feel butterflies against your ribs as he speaks again.

“You would just hate that, wouldn't you?” he smirks, and you intuit what he wants. 

This is a power play to make you remember who is in charge, a way to brand you as his symbolically, not physically. By making you pretend you don’t want this as much as you do. Achingly so.

“You want to play that game?” you check quietly, ensuring what you think is happening is true.

“You are so very observant, my smart girl,” he whispers flatteringly, and you know exactly what to do next.

“Sir, please don’t,” you play up, voice getting louder, twisting to catch his eye and winking, letting him know your reticence is all for the scene. 

“Who said you have any say in what happens?” he chuckles darkly, his hold tightening as he roughly strips your stays from your body so you are completely naked.

This. You perhaps shouldn’t want this, but by god, you do—a little twisted role play. Elation ripples through your body. Somehow you know you both need this today. Anthony to process his suspicions about the bitemark. You, cathartic release of the guilt you carry about your tryst with Benedict. Perhaps it's a dangerous path to walk; you know you are likely playing with fire, but with Anthony, by god, it's nothing but excitement. Mutually assured destruction can seem so appealing behind glowing brown eyes and sharp cheekbones.

“Please, sir, no!” you ratchet up your theatrics, struggling slightly in his hold as he spins you around to face him. 

“Shut up!” he grouses and pushes you down to your knees with a firm grip on your hair. “Now, if you don't keep quiet, I will find a way to silence you,” he warns, yanking your head back so you look up at him.

And you know what is coming, your thighs rubbing together almost gleefully at the prospect. Your insides roil excitedly at the idea of him using you, rough and rugged, as you pretend it is against your will. Trust Anthony to take you to the edge of your needs, push your envelope and make you crave him. This is why you can’t resist him. He knows how to give you things you never knew you needed but want so much your blood sings—makes you ache for him, addicted to him like no one else.

You stay on your knees, panting lightly with anticipation as he walks away briefly, his boots seeming to clatter much louder as he returns. He yanks your hands behind your back, and you feel a thin rope wrapping around your wrists. 

“You know your safety word and action,” he leans over and mutters in your ear, and you nod, twisting to meet his eye. Confirming that today no won't mean stop; only that word or gesture will.

“No sir, please, no god, I’m sorry; please don't tie me up,” you act up.

He laughs menacingly and keeps looping the rope, tying it off with what feels like a bow. Then a hand grabs your jaw. 

“Too late for that; open your mouth,” he commands gruffly.

You instantly obey as two fingers slide thickly over your tongue. They taste of ink, smokey cigars and the tang of money, all Anthony.

“Now I know a certain way to stop this little mouth from being so insolent,” he states, casually pinching your tongue before pulling out his fingers.

“No sir, please, please don’t,” you volley back, a flash in your eyes as you lick your lips, your gaze falling to the tented shape in his trousers as he roughly unbuttons them.

His cock springs free, and you feel a frisson over your skin as you drink in the sight of it, already rigid and leaking. Without preamble, he grabs the back of your head; you can barely take a steadying breath before he pushes into you, hot over your tongue, not gentle in using you, nudging towards the back of your mouth. His cock is always so surprising in size, especially when he does this, showing you no mercy. Gripping your hair and starting a rhythm that pushes deeper on every stroke until he holds your nose pressed up to his body, filling your throat. You want to cough, speak, do anything, but he holds steady, his scent so potent.

With your hands tied as they are, you have no control over how he uses you, but you are determined not to give you safety action, to take the punishment he wants to meter out. Your clit throbs as your lungs burn for air—heady and intoxicating. Still, he does not allow you reprieve.

“Look up at me.” You tilt your eyes up as water gathers at the corner of your lashes. His thumb swipes through them. “Finally, she is silent and obedient,” he chuckles richly, his cock vibrating in your throat, “and looking so pretty on her knees, taking all of me.”

He pulls halfway out, and you inhale sharply before he pushes back in with a groan, and you are again unable to breathe. You want this so much your thighs dampen, and you look back up at him with wide, pleading eyes, playing the part of the victim you most definitely are not.

“Take it,” he stutters gruffly as you feel your throat convulse slightly, wanting to gag. “Stay down,” he orders, crushing your face into his body, his balls against your chin. You feel a pulse in his cock and then a sour tang, that little salty bead of pre-cum sliding down your gullet.

Just as you begin to struggle for air and feel woozy light-headedness, he pulls out entirely, ropes of saliva webbing from your mouth to his glistening tip as you gasp deeply, your throat burning.

“Get on your hands and knees and crawl to that bench,” he grits out, and you do as told, taking a few crawled paces to the padded leather bench in the middle of the room as he loosely refastens his trousers. Your deep wracking breathing sounds so loud, even in the wood-panelled room, as he tells you to climb up and straddle it face down.

“If you move an inch or make a noise, this will be much worse for you,” he threatens.“You will be whipped, and then you will take my cock. Maybe then you will finally remember who you belong to.”

“Please, sir, no,” your protesting murmur is weak and raspy as your throat recovers, but you turn slightly to meet his gaze challengingly, eyes blazing. You had better fuck me so hard, you mouth silently at him.

He twists his face into a bemused pout. I will, you wilful little one, he mouths back.

“Now, do I need to tie you to the bench, too?” he warns, but you get no chance to challenge it as, almost instantly, more rope loops around your back and under the bench you lay on. 

Fire flares in your belly; he has never tied you down so wholly. You cannot wiggle free of this; you are entirely at his mercy. The leather sticks slightly to your heated cheek as a hand spanks a glancing blow onto your left bottom cheek, and you groan and push your hips down into the padded leather. Everywhere between your legs tingles, aches even, and feels hot, getting off on the thrill of submitting to his will, the utter commanding way he handles you. You need him to put his mark on you. To make it bigger, better than his brother’s. 

“Make it hurt,” you sigh, barely a breath. But you know he hears it from the sharp inhale he makes.

You look back at him pleadingly. It could be the look of a captive pleading for mercy from their captor; it could be the look of a willing participant in a provocative game, conveying just how much they want this. Indeed, it’s both, so many layers swirling in this erotically charged moment.

“My girl, you will feel it and remember tonight,” his voice a low forewarning.

You twist to watch Anthony walk away and snag a riding crop from the selection hanging on nearby hooks, heart speeding up as he walks near your head, brandishing the implement. The cool leather tongue brushes the nape of your neck. He traces it slowly, achingly so, down the length of your spine to where your bound hands lay. Your body shivers in response, and he chuckles, seemingly delighted at how he can elicit such reactions from you.

He leans low over your back, the crop raising from your skin. “Now you can't run and get help; no one is coming to rescue you from me,” he growls. Something in the tone suggests bitter experience.

There is a faint, almost whistling sound in the air then you feel a sting lashing across your left buttock. The strength of this first blow is sharp, taking you by surprise, and you yelp in response.

“Be quiet!” he orders roughly, grabbing your hair. “Or do I need to gag you as well?”

“Please, sir, don't,” your lips plead while your mind hopes he might. You enjoy it when he gags you, especially with his cravat, as he did just a few days ago during your last encounter at Aubrey Hall. That fateful night you physically bumped into his younger brother.

Anthony releases your hair as Benedict's voice and face fill your mind. A similar blow to your right bottom cheek brings you back into the room, and you groan loudly, grinding against the bench, feeling the rope around your waist resisting your movements. He is pacing around you in a circle, his footsteps echoing up the walls; you pant in anticipation, trying to crane your head to track his movements.

The crop tickles your open, bound hand, then traces up the inside of your arm, so ticklish you try to tamp down a giggle. Then you gasp as he flicks the crop on your upper arm across the flesh of your muscle there.  The leather tongue drags back down to your hands, then swaps to the other, tracing up your arm in that prickly way until, again, there is a flick to the other bicep. You sense it's coming but still whimper slightly at the lick.

It's a guessing game about what he will do next. These flicks on your arms have been light, not like the force he used on your bottom, but enough to sting and keep you on your toes.

“I do so enjoy the slight of you bound,” he hums, almost absent-minded, as the crop trails back down your arm over your hands, your fingertips and onto your lower spine.

“Please, sir, don’t hurt me,” you play up, panting with anticipation about where he might strike next. 

“What part of ‘be quiet’ are you not understanding?” he utters through clenched teeth; it’s all the warning you get before the crop reigns a sharp blow onto the back of your thigh, right below where it meets your bottom.

You hiss and writhe as the crop insinuates between your legs, encouraging them further apart. 

“If you keep talking, I will crop you right here,” he cautions, running the smooth leather tab over your labia. You fold your lower lip into your mouth to censor any response you might have. “Good girl,” he intones, and the crop is gone.

You are almost relaxing into the soft bench when he strikes a lick onto your ribs, it's not hard, but it takes you by surprise; your yelp is instinctual. Then with an almost predatory gleam in his normally beguiling eyes, he rains little blows across your back. Short, sharp lashes that sting, not hurting but not pleasant. You flinch at every blow but feel a paradoxical sense of relief with each one, the discomfort as cleansing as it is arousing.

It's when the crop disappears between your thighs that you tense slightly. But he does not flick it against your pussy; he holds it over the spot you assume are the teeth marks, his breathing uneven. Then with a determined glint, he lashes the area hard, and you feel redness instantly bloom there as you cry out. He has done exactly what you wanted; he has covered up Benedict's mark on you with one of his own, bigger, better, bolder—so very Anthony. It almost feels akin to a twisted game of one-upmanship you will wear on your skin for a few days.

Then he flicks little marks on the back of your thighs and buttocks. Again each one feels like absolution and a step higher towards a blissful state where you float outside your body, utterly pliant to his demands and treatment.

“Stay with me,” he dictates. 

He senses you slipping into a subspace but wants you alert and responsive to every move he makes. 

“Who do you belong to?” his question is a bark.

“You.” It's a reflex.

“And only me, do you understand me? I will not share,” he grits out. 

“Yes sir,” you slur as the crop makes one last resounding blow on your cheek, so forceful you scream.

There is a clatter as the crop falls to the ground, and he is tearing off his clothing as you watch covetously and panting with anticipation, your skin burning hot in the places he has cropped you.

“No sir, please don’t take me,” you fib with a small smile, catching sight of his delicious, engorged cock as he strips. 

“Oh, but you are mine to take,” he laughs menacingly as he rounds behind you, kneeling on the floor where he lines up to enter you.

With a grunt from him and a cry from you, he plunges into your body; the stretching invasion always steals your breath. The artifice of the game you have been playing falls away as you sigh his name and murmur for him to please take you hard, wanting him to fuck all the guilt out of you.

And he does what you need. He shows no mercy as he grasps the rope around your back in his fist so it digs into the sensitive flesh of your sides and begins a punishing rhythm. Thrusting with such force, your whole body rolls, the bench squeaking in protest. You struggle to form thoughts and just quieten your mind, lean into the intensity of it—allowing your body to be used, taken, finding pleasure in your passivity. 

His hand spanks a glancing blow over your left cheek that he has left flecked with crop marks, and you squeal at the layering of this sharp pang over the dull throb from his earlier discipline.

“Keep quiet,” he hisses, leaning over your back and biting the nape of your neck. His incisors grabbing flesh and pulling, a pinching searing pang you know will mean teeth marks and wearing scarves to cover up until they fade. 

You are shocked at how fast your body is hurtling towards a climax, your clit squashed into the rounded end of the bench as he fucks into you. You start to pant little noises and writhe in your bindings, your wrists still in the small of your back, starting to feel pins and needles as your movement causes the rope to dig in harder.

“You are so very close,” he observes, suddenly holding still, buried deep inside you. “That will not do,” his tone almost disappointed, “do not come yet”.  

You fight the urge, your pussy squeezed tight around him, fighting the little convulsions you feel, every inch of his cock engraving on your walls like he is leaving his imprint inside you.

“I mean it,” he warns, “you will not come until I permit it.”

“Yes sir,” you croak, gusting hot breaths into the bench and trying to calm your body. To stave off your orgasm until he allows it.

Then there are fingers resting on your clit, and you inhale sharply, twisting in your binding to look at him over your shoulder, something wild in his manner, his eyes glittering.

“No,” he says firmly as he teases your bud with expertise, edging you but refusing permission to let you break.

“This is not fair,” you groan, puffing hard as he begins to fuck you again, this time with an unhurried rhythm, withdrawing then surging in as his fingertips expertly hook under your hood to massage your engorged little nub. 

“Fair is not my concern,” he dismisses, “what is my concern is demanding your utter obedience.”

Every ounce of your body is aflame, the tension of holding to a precipice as each welt on your body throbs in sympatico with your clit.

“Please,” you mumble, unsure you can stem the tide building; obey his rules.

His grip on your bum tightens as he spears into you roughly, making you grunt as your whole body rocks with the force. Boring into you now, unforgiving in his mounting of you, he once again wraps the rope that lashes you down around his knuckles, ensuring you gasp at the harsh binding, the rough fibres repeatedly rubbing until small welts appear.

He is setting an almost punishing pace, ploughing into your body repeatedly as you listen to his panting breaths, desperate for his consent to release all the tension, almost an unbearable weight.

He spanks your right cheek for good measure. You moan, and the pleasure-pain that blossoms makes your break impossible to fight anymore. Your eyes screw shut as his fingers slide over your sensitive bud, the grip of his spanking hand now banded around the crest of your hipbone, strong enough to leave more marks on your delicate flesh. 

“You may,” he pants, perhaps sensing the inevitable.

You call his name and bury your nose into the bench, your teeth snarling and biting against the leather as your body, denied over and over, finally relents, your pussy palpitating around him so harshly you almost propel him from your body. Each synapse firing so hard your mind blanks out, a snapping of something inside that is your tether to reality. Then you are floating, somewhere far away, on a cloud of throbbing skin and pumping heartbeats, the pain transmogrifying into something beautiful, like amnesty, appeasement, peace.

You are barely cognisant as he rapidly withdraws from your body with a shout, spilling his seed onto your aching cheeks, the splash of it somehow both stinging and soothing the ache, bringing you back into the room as he slumps over your back, head between your shoulder blades.

For a few moments, there is nothing but the joint sound of your laboured breathing and the creek of the rope as you shift lightly under his weight.

“That was… truly something else,” he pants, drawing upright to untie your body and wrists delicately.

“It really was,” you agree, as he rubs the sore spots on your wrists from the chafe of the rope.

“Thank you. For giving me your trust like that,” Anthony says quietly, sincerely. “It is a rare thing to play like this…. Very rare indeed.”

He looks so thoughtful you don't know what to say in response. “Any time, Anthony. It was a very cathartic experience for me,” you admit honestly. “Something so freeing about playing that role for you,” you clarify before he asks what you mean, Benedict’s face flashing in your mind, guilt flooding your heart.

He jumps up, gathers a padded blanket from a hook, and lays it on the ground, pulling you into an embrace atop it. You settle into his arms, allowing your body to feel soothed by his idle, gentle strokes as he speaks again.

“I have come to realise that you are chasing challenging experiences. And my darling girl, I always want to be the one, the only one, worthy and able to do that, to challenge you in all the ways you may need,” he offers as he nuzzles your temple, dropping a light kiss there.

“That's so funny; Benedict was just saying the same last night,” you giggle lightly, your idle tongue running away from you in your post-orgasmic haze.

“You talk to my brother about such matters?” He freezes and sounds strange as he says it, and instantly you wince inside but try not to let it show. 

“Sometimes he and I talk. Of you and I, our compatibility, our courtship,” you attempt breezy nonchalance, gesturing into the air. “We bumped into each other at the Trowbridge Ball, and perhaps I had too much champagne,” you offer, relieved that partial truths and alcohol may explain how you came to talk of such matters with his brother.

“But you said this was last night?” Anthony argues, slowly twisting and sitting up away from you. “And the Trowbridge Ball was two nights ago. I should know; I was not well that day.”

Bile rises in your throat. You try not to let your panic show on your face, but you suspect your acting skills may be somewhat lacking. “Oh, of course, I… I am mixing up my days. The season is such a whirl, is it not?” You overshoot, mugging a smile too large and too brittle, clutching at proverbial straws. 

You sit up and instinctively grab your chemise to cover yourself up, feeling the need for a physical layer of protection, your skin registering a cold draft that breezes along the floor, making you shiver. There is a few moments of silence where you curl your lip under your teeth. Scared, you will slip up more, knowing Anthony is too smart not to see it. 

“I thought I warned you to stay away from him,” he intones, his voice going low.

“Come on, Anthony. He is your family; why would I not talk to your family? To the outside world, at least, we are courting.” You try to appeal to his logical side.

“Do you converse with Colin? Do you talk such intimate things with him?” He bristles, and you stay silent. Knowing what he points out is true. You have barely spoken more than five words to Colin, all mundane. “Yes. As I thought,” he adds, more than a little bitter. “And I find it strange that I went to call on you yesterday afternoon to apologise for being unable to accompany you to the ball, only to be told you were not home. That you were, in fact, receiving art lessons from my brother. Indeed, your family valet seemed most perplexed that I was not aware, seeing as I had apparently arranged the whole thing.” 

Oh god. 

He knows. 

He knows something is happening between you and Benedict. And he has kept it in until now. Again you are tumbling over that waterfall. Suddenly, so much of tonight takes on more nuance than you could possibly have imagined: the desperation, the possessiveness, the want to tie you down and punish you hard, the now-weighted phrase that no one is coming to rescue you. Part of you wants to run away, be sick to your stomach, but part of you wants to stay and fight.

“Anthony…” you appeal, not knowing what else to say.

“Don't,” he chides, and you feel him building up his walls, brick by brick, cutting you off. “But thank you for confirming what I didn't want to know. You may leave,” he adds bitterly, and you can see untold hurt in his eyes. 

You can see that trying to reason with him is a lost cause at this moment. So silently, you pull your stays on loosely over your chemise and then your dress, the initial panic giving way to a melancholy sinking into your bones about how he is closing himself off. You slip out of the stable door and don't allow yourself the luxury of a glance back, or even a tear, as you walk the few hundred yards back to the recital venue and your awaiting carriage.

You suspect that were it any other man, Anthony would not be so very agitated—his younger brother very much his Achilles heel, right from that first warning at Aubrey Hall. Perhaps he sees something in you that is a kindred spirit to Benedict more than to himself and fears the choice you may make. Little does he know, you crave them equally and more than ever, even as you feel uncertain about where you stand with either brother now. Both knowing of your dalliance with the other, and neither happy about it—precisely what you didn't want. In hindsight, it was never going to be easy playing off both brothers. But you never expected Anthony’s reaction to be so emotional, the hidden depths he keeps so well concealed under the mask of responsibility.

And things are about to get even more complicated when Benedict sees what Anthony has done….

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld@eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog

[dienamights]

Not Your Best Man | D.Kaminari

✎ Denki Kaminari was resentful of all the things Katsuki Bakugou has, the high hero ranks, the fame despite his demeaning behavior, his intelligence, and most importantly, you.

✎ Protagonists: Denki Kaminari x Fem!Reader

✎ Word count: 5.2K

✎ Category: Smut MDNI, angst

✎ Caution(!): Smut MDNI, swearing, denki is jealous, bakuhoe is an asshole, mommy kink, loss of control of quirk during sex, degradation, praise, oral (male!receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm denial to a certain point, mention of puking, doing denki dirty in so many ways and I’m sorry but I’m also… not sorry.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s well! I’m here with @forrest-fern’s Seven Deadly Sins server Collab! I snatched Denki and chose Envy! I wasn’t able to get bakugou but you know damn well I’m squeezing his ass in there lmao (peep the banner you can see the boom boom boy) (shut up im not late shush)

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

Her hair is piled up and back, showing more of her delicate yet strong features. Skin so flawless his hands feel bound when he wants to touch it, afraid of staining it with his fingertips, not deeming himself worthy to taint it. Eyes brought out beautifully with makeup products she knew how to work to make her look even more gorgeous than she already is. Lips perfectly coated in lipstick, always formed in the littlest smile, and he feels compelled to kiss the product off of them.

The dress is perfect, it sits on her body as if it has been made just for her. Its fabric folds hugging her figure, following her curves. It’s color is gorgeous against her skin with long sleeves that cover her arms, the backless dress shows skin that begs him, taunts him to touch it and to guide her along with him. The collar exposes enough shoulders that teases him to bite and mark up. It's tight skirt pooled till the floor with a slit up to her left thigh. She looks stunning and he couldn't stop but linger his eyes on her.

She looks as though she is an angel, in the form of the most beautiful girl on earth. Mesmerising eyes, so crystal clear that he could see rivers, oceans, the whole world through them. No flower, no goddess, not even Aphrodite could ever compare to her beauty. She has the body of a dancer, lithe, supple and oh so beautiful. With every step she takes, it looks as though she’s floating, and Denki only became more convinced that he had been around an angel for the majority of his life and he -regretfully- only was able to realize it a bit too late.

Regretfully, because she wasn’t his, isn’t his, will never be his. Not the measly unimportant groomsman. No, she is the best man’s, Katsuki Bakugou’s, meant to be his forever. 

Bakugou’s BakugousBakugousBakugous… Dammit

“I do.” 

An adorable little boy dressed in a black tuxedo walks up and hands Kirishima a ring. He slips it on Mina's finger. The pastor smiles and turns to Mina. She wears a strapless wedding gown with embroidery on her bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads sewn on her gown. She wears a two-tier veil, with a matching crystal head-piece. She holds a French rose silk bouquet. Kirishima is stunning. He wears a black, single-breasted, satin tuxedo with a white-wing collar shirt.

The pastor repeats the question and receives the same reply. You watch her take his ring from a small girl dressed in pink and place it on his finger. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." 

"You may now kiss your bride." He does so, placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing his lips against hers. The pastor holds up his hands, bringing the cheering crowd to their feet.

Kirishima and Mina leave the gazebo, arms linked, with huge smiles on their faces. The best man, maid of honor, and the groomsmen and bridesmaids follow suit, falling in behind them. They stop near the end of the walk, forming the start of the receiving line. 

The family and guests file down, pausing for hugs and kisses and congratulating the young couple. Mina then turns around and throws her bouquet of flowers behind her. The women collide with each other as they try to catch it. 

She cheers loud when the bouquet falls in your hands, and you giggle and wave it around, the women’s disappointed groans muffled in your ears when you catch the beautiful vermillions of your partner, oblivious to the golden specks that have been eyeing your every move since you stepped foot into the wedding.

“You could’ve been more obvious about wantin’ me to put a ring on your finger.” Katsuki chuckles against your ear, standing behind you with his hands on your hips, both of you looking at the newlyweds as they enter the reception with everyone awwing at them as they did their first dance as husband and wife.

The sun has set long ago, the full moon hanging and illuminating the area beautifully, the fairy lights and lamps circling the area, making the happy couple look absolutely glowing, and you smile at the scene from outside the dance floor.

“They fell in my hands ‘Suki.” you giggle, lacing your fingers between his, “Besides, you already did, didn’t you?” 

“Hmm,” his breath tickles your ear, fingers twisting your engagement ring around your ring finger, “was forced to, after all that whinin’ ‘bout wantin’ to settle down and not knowin’ when we’ll see each other when we’re goin’ on missions, and cherishin’ the lives-” he fakes a snore and rests his full weight on your back, both of you laughing as you tip forward and he catches you in time, placing his hand on your waist again and swaying with you as you see your friends happier than they ever were.

You look perfect, standing there holding each other, absolutely and utterly disgusting. Denki stares at you, fire spreading in his abdominal, his lungs constricting with every breath he takes the longer he looks at you. Swaying together, Katsuki’s lips pressing against your temple and you letting out the most beautiful laugh, Denki can’t help but clench the front of his shirt at the sight, wishing, hoping for nothing more than to be in his shoes, being the one lucky enough to be able to hold you that close, the one that has the privilege to hear your laugh, the one to make you laugh.

“Hey Denki,” He is snapped back to reality when Kirishima stands in front of him, blocking his view from the flawless couple. “H-hey Eiji! Congratulations bro, you’re finally a married man!” They hug, Denki’s eyes never leaving you while Katsuki twirls you to face him and peppers kisses across your face. “Thanks man! Hey sorry, could you get Bakugou for me real quick, we’re taking a few pictures with the best man and the maid of honor.”

“Right away, man of the hour.” 

Oh God, oh God, he isn’t ready to face you yet. You look too pretty, he doesn’t feel worthy to be in your presence, driven to bow down and ask for forgiveness for even breathing the same as yours. And yet, you smile upon his arrival, even letting go of Bakugou’s hand to wave him over, and you’re blessing him with your smile, giggles sounding like the singing of angels when he waves back excitedly.

“Hi!” you beam up at him the minute he’s close enough to be graced with your voice, “Where have you been, it’s like you were avoiding me all this time,” you pout for a second and Denki could swear he felt his heart skip multiple beats when your lips wobble and a smile makes it way back up at him.

“H-hey, ummm, Baku- uh.” he laughs at himself, trying to collect whatever dignity he has left. “Uh, Eiji is lookin’ for ya bro, something about a photoshoot with the maid of honor?” The groan Bakugou lets out is enough of a confirmation.

“Fuckin’ pain in my fuckin’ ass bitch” he grumbles, pressing his lips against your temple again, promising to come back after the ‘Motherfuckin’ bitch shoot’ is done. You only reply by squeezing his arm, a silent reassurance that you’ll be waiting for him when he gets back.

It's so revolting, the way he swears up and down, having the filthiest mouth with his words, not even respecting the beautiful goddess that tries to calm his nasty self down, he should be more considerate of you and your feelings, God he loathes the way he treats you. The way he mistreats you. 

You deserve to be treated so much better than that, the way Denki would, he’d downright kiss the ground you walk on, remind you every day that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him, the best goddamn thing to ever grace this earth.

Okay, you’re staring. God, has she been staring too? Denki, people always say you never shut up, use it to your advantage for once in your life.

Denki extends his arm to you, curses under his breath, wipes his sweaty palm against his pant leg before extending it again. "Would you like to dance?" You raise your eyebrows. "Would you like to dance?"

"Well, dancing is what a charming gentleman like myself would do.” He beames at the chuckle you let out. “Besides, you're beautiful and I want to show you off.” He pauses. “You know, while Bakugou is busy with his best man duties and all."

You smile, your pretty lips letting out a little giggle at his posture as he starts wiggling his fingers persuasively, and shake your head. "You know what? Yeah, I would like to dance."

Arm-in-arm, you and Denki head into the dance floor and step onto the wooden ground. You felt him move easily with you, agile and confident with the music as he takes the lead. His hands slowly yet surely reach to your lower back, but you shrug it off.

"Ah, expect tango music after this," he says. Eyes gleaming as they shift over to the DJ that nods in acknowledgement to him. He frowns when he sees your averted face, shifting your eyes away from his, observing, searching for him, your fiance, the person he wishes he could be, someone he could never be.

Denki trips over his words in an effort to regain your attention, “A-anyway, uh, um. Hey! Did you know that uh, t-tango is banned in other places of the world?" you raise your eyebrows. 

“Is it?”

 “Yeah, wanna know why?” 

“Didn’t expect you to know honestly.” He smiles as you laugh lightly, but something tugs at his heartstrings, its because you think of him as nothing but stupid brainless dunce face, depsite him entering and graduating one of the best hero courses in all of Japan, alongside you of all people, despite his hero work, the people he saves, the villains he captures, fuck. 

You don’t miss the way his face falls after your remark, an almost sour expression passing through before he clears his throat and looks behind your shoulder at basically nothing. “S-so,” you start, “Why was it banned?”

The blond’s eyes flicker over to you and soften at the way you’re cocking your head and smiling at him, despite him getting upset with you. What is he doing? He’s experiencing something straight out of his fantasies, having you pressed so close to him, dancing with him and smiling at him. No one else. 

“Oh, okay okay, so. It was considered the dance of the low-lifes at the worst places of society when it first emerged, and so the church banned it, because they said it had the music of the “immoral” factions of society”

“Oh? Why’s that.”

“It was considered an oversexualized dance. Portraying the sin and seduction of the Devil. It represents the Devil's nostalgia, his unrequited aspirations, loneliness, rejection, and misery. The longing of someone who will never fit in, who has never had love nor passion.” He takes a deep breath.  

“It's like sex, except with clothes on.”

 In a failed attempt to seduce you, he stumbles and steps on your heels. Earning a weak yelp from you as you back up from him.

It's okay, it's okay, he can fix this. Oh God the music stopped. Okay he gets to dance tango with you now and press you even more against him and hold you even closer, okay. God, are his hands always this sweaty?

The silence that follows the stopping of the music makes him panic, you’re so close, he just needs to reach out and hold you against him again. Press your tender body against his, let him pretend you’re his, pretend that he’s lucky enough to take you home with him. Help you take off your dress, press kisses against the curves of your body, make love to you all night.

Put all of that is cut short when he feels a daunting presence behind him, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. Because the way your face lights up at that presence is enough to stop his blood from pumping, enough for him to see only red, for him to dig his nails into the palm of his hands until he feels it piercing his skin.

“Hey,” the taunting voice of Katsuki Bakugou reminds him how beneath him he really is. “Yer havin fun with my girl.” it wasn’t a question. Despite that, in a desperate attempt to feel your touch one more time before you’re swept away by your big strong hero, that he would never be able to match to.

With trembling fingers, Denki grasps your hand and brings your knuckles close to his lips, eyes boring into each other while he kisses them, and you only grin in appreciation at his manners, doing the most adorable courtesy he has ever seen in his life, almost forgetting the looming presence of his former classmate.

Bakugou moves around Denki to reach you, and Kaminari knows at this point all hope is lost for you to dance with him, or better yet, have any interaction with him again for the entirety of the night. Katsuki held your hand with surprising firmness, caramel scent wafting through as you feel how sweaty his hands really are. 

“Are you warm?” You mumble, lacing your fingers through his when his reaction is to pull his hands away to wipe them at his pants. 

“No.” It's firm and it's rough, yet it isn’t directed at you. It’s directed to the other blond that surprisingly still hasn’t backed down and is still standing straight, eyeing how you two act as a couple, how he wishes you would hold his hand, ask him if he was warm, embrace all his insecurities.

As your fiance leads you back to the center of the dance floor. Hand starting at your waist but quickly slipping to grab a handful of your ass, chuckling when you squeal and slap his chest. Something wicked gleams in his eyes when the first tune of the violin starts playing, drifting with the harmony of the accordion.

“You and I both know that my knowledge of tango is as much as my knowledge for knitting, that’s right, nonexistent.”

“You know my body, don’t you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Follow my lead, let your body do the talking.”

“You’re crazy.” yet you still laugh, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as he pulls you impossibly close to him, raveling in the feeling of your chest pressed to his. You’re rolling your eyes a little at the way his smirk stretches when he pinches your butt, but you instantly shiver when he places his warm calloused hand within the cutout of your dress on your lower back, skin to skin. And just like your body is made to be molded against his, you place your arm over his shoulder while the other is engulfed in his. 

He steps close, too close, scandalously close. Pressing his cheek against your temple and only then meeting the eyes of Denki, that's when his smile drops, every playful act with you is gone. His magma filled eyes staring into the soul of the electrical hero.

Mine MineMineMine

Neither were stupid, Katsuki knows what Denki is doing, and Denki is well aware of Katsuki’s ability to piece shit together.

Denki is left lonesomely standing by the DJ, watching the way you two dance, the way Bakugou steps forward in your space and you stepping back to accommodate him. He seethes in his stance as you two rock on your feet, the way Bakugou handles your body with firmness and strength, yet softly watching you when you giggle at the way he spins your body effortlessly. Kaminari sees the way you let yourself be led, the way you trust Bakugou to handle you, hold you, care for you, in ways he could only hope for you to see him.

You are perfectly synchronized, almost fluid like, an extension of each other, like you had done this a million times before, practised day and night to perfect it. Bakugou takes his time twirling you across the room, seductively slow. Thighs brushing against each other with every stupid turn.

His body whispering commands to yours, daring it to misbehave, you step and lean and sway, every movement perfect and precise, like an intricate choreography that you have never learned, but your bodies remembering them. He dances with you the way he has sex—with exquisite control, infinite patience, and aggressive moves.

Huh, that's what Denki must have meant.

At that moment, your eyes catch him standing outside the dance floor, and you almost don’t recognize the man alone, filled by ugly emotions they couldn’t help but spill and show on his expression. Sour and hateful and just plain cruel looking.

Katsuki’s mouth curves in a lazy smile at how your brows furrow, spinning you in a vigorous turn so he’s the one facing him instead. You aren’t dense, you feel the eyes on you, well aware who they belong to as they burn through your back. He lowers his head, forcing you to look back up at him, your lips grazing against his, too close.

“Yer puttin’ on a show for your boy?” 

“A show- no you ass, weren’t you the one that wanted to dance?” you try to lean away to scold him -yes, middance- but the blond lowers further, until you think he’s trying to get you to shut up by kissing you. Suddenly he’s dipping you low, his face stays only a few inches away from yours, your back arching beautifully.

A static sound dwells on you, followed by the buzzing of electricity. The lights flicker and you instinctively grab at Katsuki, tightening your hold against his bicep, your eyes searching his when he doesn’t lift you back up, only to find him not even looking at you.

His fingers are tingling, tips wiggling as they shoot little sparks at the sight in front of him, his golden eyes illuminating in the momentary darkness as they clash with the magma filled rubies, challenging him, taunting him, mocking him.

MineMineMine

And when Denki accidentally short circuits the entire DJ booth, the dance hall instantly quiets, a blanket of silence weighing them down and daring someone to break it. And yet, Bakugou has other plans, of course.

Sneakily, he slides his hand down from your back to your knee, firmly grabbing your leg as his eyes meet yours before lifting it to his hip. Fingers slipping under your dress and grazing your upper thighs, sending goosebumps racing across your skin, not having the courage to break eye contact until you hear the gasp of a few of the attendees. Only then does he close the gap between to press his lips against yours, the little audience you collected clapping and cheering you along.

The whistling and cheering is loud enough for you to miss the sound of Denki’s fist slam against the table and the sobs wrecking him as he drags his feet away from the scene. 

BakugousBakugousBakugous

Sero grunts as he struggles to push the hotel room door open with Denki leaning his full weight on him. It takes him a couple of tries to finally get the drunk man on the bed, slapping his hands away as Denki tries to grab at and kiss the man. 

“C’moooon, Hantaaaaa, s’not like you don’ wanna, look atchu, you’re takin’ off m’clothes but you don’ wanna kiss me?”

“You ass, I’m taking off your shoes because you stepped in your own vomit.” 

The man gags, chugging the shoes in the trash can and helping his friend ease off of his suit jacket. “Yer a good man Hanta, say, you wanna be m’best man?” Sero laughs, shaking his head as he tries to help him lay on his stomach, “y’know, when I marry y/n.” 

The silence that follows is deafening, Sero not having the heart to talk when he catches the sound of Denki sniffing and burying his head in his pillow.

“I- “

“Jus’ leave me alone, Sero.”

And he does, the only confirmation of his solitude is the echoing click of the door’s lock as Sero leaves Denki to brew in his own self loathing.

It takes Denki a few minutes to collect himself, the nausea forcing him to take off his shirt and pants, lying down on his back to feel the cool air on his chest. He doesn’t realize he has his eyes closed until he snaps them open when he hears his door click close.

There you are, radiating, mesmerizing, you’re practically glowing, standing there by his door, adorned by your… nightgown? 

God, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room.

“You sure you’re in the right room y/n?”

You don’t answer, you just simply, untie your robe. And Denki’s eyes practically bulge out when the silk robe slips right off of your shoulder and drops in a pile on the floor by your feet. He can’t look you in the eyes, he’s looking at every inch of exposed skin he can muster, committing every curve, every dip, every contour, every fucking thing to memory.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” that’s when he looks back up at your eyes -after shamelessly staring at your peaking nipples for a second too long - blinking twice at your words. He sits up with a struggle, “W-wait, what about Bakugou?”

“What about him?”

And honestly, that alone almost made him bust a nut.

You’re pushing at his chest until he lays back down, throwing your leg over his figure and straddling him. Instantly, he feels your warmth pressing against his strained length and his body shivers at the thumbing against it. 

“You’re so good to me Denki,” you breathe, fingers combing through his hair before you take a fistful of it and lightly tug, rolling your hips against his and relishing in the whines he lets out, slender fingers reaching for your thighs and grabbing handfuls, his eyes begging for you to do it again, and when you do, he throws his head back and moans.

“You treat me so well,” you pout, nails tracing his sweaty flushed chest, peppering kisses along it, moving up until you reach his ear, biting at it and giggling when he ruts his hips up against you. Feeling your slick dampen the front of his boxers as his leaky cock does the same. “So pretty for me” he whines again, eyes blown out and chest heaving at the feeling of being kissed by you, held by you, touched by you, hell, looked at by you.

“Fuck, again, ah- d-don’t stop, pleaseplease-”

“Use your words baby, wadda you want?” he thrashes against the bed when you grind your hips against his again, the tips of his fingers buzzing and twitching when you’re lowering yourself to press your chest against his face. 

“Fuck, wanna feel your pretty pussy, feel you squeeze my cock, please, just -ah, put it in.” it's all muffled from the spit collecting on tongue and the way he’s smothered by your tits but honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way.

His body refuses to move as you scoot lower, straddling his thigh and grinding your hips against it, wickedly smiling as he whines ‘nonono’ when you do, “m-my cock, my cock, please stop teasin’.” the tip of your finger traces the elastic of his boxers, giggling at the way his body jerks up and at the gasp he lets out when you snap it against his hip. Before gliding your finger against his strained cock, enjoying the way it twitches under your touch, feeling it harden against you.

You coo at him as you pull off his boxers, when you see that there is no initiation from him to move. The sight of his pretty cock with its fiery head welcoming you and you can’t help but grab at it. “Pretty boy all needy for me, hmm?” You give it a lick from the base to the tip, sucking on the head of his cock and feeling it twitch inside of your mouth, hollowing out your cheek and looking up to see the way his face flushes, his body illuminating with the crackling of the thunders around him, twitching his body before he breathes out a few times to calm himself down.

How is he so lucky? How is he blessed with having your lips wrapped around his cock, just looking at you is tightening a knot in his belly, and he can’t help but throw his head back and close his eyes in an effort to prolong his orgasm to feel even more of you.

He doesn't open his eyes until he feels a looming shadow on him, and that's when he catches sight of you again, the moon hitting your face, your glistening precum-covered lips smiling down at him.

“Want me to take care of you?” You tease, chuckling breathlessly as Denki feels your pussy on his cock, your slick covering it as you roll your hips and feel your pussy gush at the way his body shivers in ecstasy at your touch. “Yes! Please mommy ye-”

“Mommy?” Did he just say it out loud? “No, ah- fuck, no-no I didn’t say that I-” you don’t even let him talk, gyrating your hips again, covering his dick with your slick, without having your walls flutter around him just yet.

It takes a few teasing grinds of you against him to have him sobbing at this point, “m-mommy please just please! I wanna, ah” he thrashes when the tip of his leaky cock catches your clit, the lightnings he’s producing passing by his eyes and obscuring his blurry vision for a while, before he’s blessed with the sight of you beautifully arched on top of him. “In, in, wanna feel the pretty pussy, please please lemme feel the pretty pussy.” it's just meaningless babbling at this point, anything to get your walls tightening around his cock, all sensitive from being rubbed against you for god knows how long.

And when his head catches your cunt, he all but cries out at the way it clenches at the head, bucking his hips up to feel more of you. Wanting you to swallow him whole, take him all the way in. “Y’gonna just fuck into my pussy like that, hmm? Is that how you’re treatin’ mommy now?” “n-no! Ah, m’sorry pleaseplease, I just, you feel s’good, you’re s’tight aaah, wanna feel more, please I want more more more,” and he does. So, without a warning, you drop your hips and impale yourself on his cock, and for fuck’s sake all of what Denki saw what white for a few seconds, he could’ve sworn he heard a few angels singing, even.

“That what you want, hmm? Want her to take care of her pretty boy?” you pout mockingly, bouncing yourself on his lap as he tries to grab hold of your hips to guide you, but the way you’re jerking his body has his head dizzy and his sight swimming, the low buzzing of his quirk muffled by the wet slaps of your skin against his, your ass clapping against his thighs and he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that sound, and he just settles for letting you please yourself with his cock, because if you’re gonna use him as a fucking dildo, then he wouldn’t fucking have it any other way.

Weakly snapping his hips upwards with the drops of your hips, Denki’s leg shake and it takes a few more times for his cock to fully seath itself in your tight walls for him to let go, feeling your pussy squeeze his cock for all his worth as your pants turn into whines, suddenly they’re very afar, almost like you’re underwater. Yet he’s the one feeling like his lungs are constricted when he hears the name you’re calling, and it isn’t his. “Ka- ahh- suki…”

Only then does Denki realize that you aren’t in his room, your discarded rope isn’t thrown haphazardly on the floor by the door, your slick isn’t covering his thigh or coating his dick, and the worst of all, your pussy isn’t the one that has been squeezing his cock, oh no.

It was his hand, those slender fingers wrapping around his softening cock, smeared with his cum. He lifts his hand in horror, disgust and shame eating him up, especially when his ears perk up at your sound.

“Fuck, Katsu- yesyesyes, right there, yes!” Whatever nausea he felt subsiding is coming back tenfold, burning his throat as he slaps his hand over his mouth, anything to stop himself from puking on himself.

“Ha, that what you want? Getting dicked down after havin’ fun with that fuckin’ dunce face.” The wet sounds of Bakugou’s hips slapping yours is almost making his ears bleed. “Havin’ that prick touchin’ ya like that. Fuckin’ slut, all of that to rile me up so I can fuck that tight lil pussy, that what you want?”

Denki doesn’t know what’s the last nail on the coffin, the absolute filth being spewed to you, tainting your angelic ears, that aren’t meant to hear anything but praises and confessions of love and gratitude, the fact that you’re squealing and moaning for him to fuck you even harder, or the fact that he’s listening to every squealching sound, every creak the bed made, every slam of the headboard against your shared wall, every breath, every moan, every scream, everything.

That's when Denki flings himself off of the bed and empties his stomach, right on the floor next to his bed, tears stinging his eyes as he tries to trick himself that it's because of the way his throat is burning and not because of the way his heart is shattering, feeling it wrenched from his chest and thrown on the floor, stepped on and spat on and just beaten to the point of no return.

Sniffing and lifting his head up, Denki can’t help but see red, his whole body crackling with newfound vigor, his whole body is numb, like his quirk is taking the lead, putting his consciousness on the back burner. He chuckles, despite you moaning out Katsuki’s name when you find your release, despite him calling yours as he finds his, despite hearing your giggles and the kisses he’s pressing against god knows where on your body, despite the tears streaming down his face.

The last thing Denki remembers before he lets his quirk take complete control over him, is the humming of energy, the fleeting blinding brightness, the shattering of the light bulbs all around him, the loud deafening bangs, almost like music to his ears and finally, the sound of you screeching in horror. 

Hope you like it! Kithes kithes