#like social situational bondage? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loafgeto · 5 months

Text

KINKMAS DAY THREE: BONDAGE WITH KENTO

synopsis | you can’t seem to take your hands off your husband while he’s working on an important project and taking calls. so, what better form of discipline is there than to tie you up and fuck you until he can’t anymore?

contents | fem!reader, she/her pronouns, explicit language, established relationship between reader and nanami, husband!nanami. NSFW, restriction/tied to the bed, mentions of masturbation, blowjob, slight gagging, praising, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, unprotected sex (p in v), deep penetration, edging, creampie (a big one), orgasms and squirting multiple times, spanking, pet names, size differences, fluff?? at the end, not proofread!!

word count | 4k

notes | i want him to tie me up just like this 🤭

tags | @aydene @biscuitsngravie @homeslices @tiredkitten @get0sfav @erensflies @bleachisfood @witchbybirth (if you want to be tagged, just let me know!)

you sigh out of frustration, rolling from side to side in your bed and scrolling through social media on your phone, seeking for something entertaining. your husband was currently occupied, working on a project and taking calls in his office. to say that you miss his touch wasn’t an understatement— in fact, he hasn’t even touched you in weeks.

kento’s a diligent worker at his company, earning respectable positions and receiving a plausible salary, so it’s expecting of him to take responsibility of large projects and completing stacks of unfinished documents. it’s another night where he’s working on something rather important— so important that when he returned home hours ago, he immediately engulfed himself in his office.

it’s difficult not to bother kento— since, this routine has been occurring for several days in a row. by the time kento finishes for the night, you’re already in a deep slumber after waiting for him. and by the next morning when you awake, he’s already dressed and about to leave the house. it upsets you, of course, because you want to spend at least some time with your husband.

there’s a distressful situation happening with the marketing of his company, along with many others which was why he was so preoccupied and strained. problems like that don’t necessarily fix over a short span of time.

you try to fall asleep— or, force yourself to sleep. but the ache between your legs and longing for him was tremendously bothersome, and your toys weren’t much of a help because they just weren’t kento. groaning, you decide to do something that you probably shouldn’t do. it has you leaving your bed, tiptoeing towards the closed door of kento’s office, having you quietly opening the door and poke your head in as he’s speaking with the secretary of his company.

kento’s eyes shift from his computer to you immediately, and his words trail off when you step inside. the way you’re dressed in a short silk dress, kento knows you’re wearing nothing underneath but an underwear. he knows he shouldn’t be distracted by such alluring sight of his wife, and he firmly tells himself to concern about the situations of his company. but he just can’t keep his eyes away when you’re slowly walking behind of his chair.

“hey baby,” you whisper, lowering your face to plant a kiss against his cheek and draping your arms around him. your husband acknowledges you with a smile and quick nod, directing you to his phone that indicates he’s chatting with someone. you gave him a frown, gently caressing his chest while keeping your face next to his.

“not now, sweetheart,” kento replies when pushing away his phone from his ear. he gives you a peck on the lips, hoping it’d be enough to strip you away from him. but he can’t deny enjoying the feeling of you raveling around him, acting so needy for him even when aware that he’s occupied.

but knowing you, you’re too touchy, continuously clinging onto him even when he tells you no more. kento rubs circles against the palm of your hand, feeling your soft and delicate skin that he realizes he hasn’t felt in what seems like a long time. your hands travel down his chest, towards his tight abs beneath the layer of his buttoned up shirt, and back up to his biceps.

you gradually move underneath his desk, facing him on your knees with a smile as he tries to remain stoic with his boss. kento can feel blood pumping fast to his dick, tightening beneath his pants and causing him to sweat a little. your gentle caresses on his thigh was sending him over the edge— he hates how you’re messing with him like this, but he doesn’t stop it.

kento knows he hasn’t touched you in weeks, or even felt you touch him like this. he misses it— more than you think. nearly each lunch break, he’s always in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with his hard cock in one hand and his phone in the other, playing those lecherous videos of you he’s saved over the years. he’s never admitted such action to you before, not that he was embarrassed to, he just chooses not to. pumping his length, he always imagines it’s your hands. it’s aggravating because he doesn’t end up finishing and has to return back to his shift.

however, you’re under him now— giving him the sight he’s been thinking about for weeks. he holds his breath when he feels your hand brush over the bulge of his pants, nearly grunting from the way you smirk at his reaction. unzipping his pants, you free his cock and grasp it around your hands.

kento nearly gasps out loud, choking back his groan as he feels your small hands stroke several pumps on his length— his pre-cum leaking out already, being spread around his swollen tip with your thumb. he loves the way you look, the way you’re so small compared to him.

“are you still there, kento?”

“yes— i am, sir,” kento firmly replies, glancing down at you as you kiss his tip with your soft lips. it sends vibrations throughout kento’s body— making his cock twitch in your hands. you smile, almost devilishly. “i-i apologize, can you say that again?”

“i said…” his secretary continues to speak, but kento’s attention was already drawn away when he feels your warm mouth slowly take in his throbbing cock. you bob your head slowly, panties getting more soaked from kento’s reaction— your desire for your lewd imaginations to become true was happening; which is also why you’re here in kento’s office, bothering him even though he’s working on important tasks. “..i think if we discuss this tomorrow at the meeting, we can potentially see increase in sales despite the corrupt marketing.”

“yeah, yeah. sounds good..” kento utters past his low groans, not even knowing what his secretary just explained as his attention is occupied on the feeling of your mouth sucking him in, wet tongue drooling over his cock and your hand giving sensual pumps. his cock throbs in your mouth, making you moan at an instant.

“mm- i’m so wet, kento,” you whisper and gaze up at him once you pop his dick out of your mouth, pressing his redden tip against the side of your lips while still pumping his length with a hand. something in kento immediately snaps, mainly due to your expression and your words. he’s about to lean forward, when the voice of his secretary cuts him off.

“did you get that down kento?”

“uh yeah.. i did,” kento replies to his secretary, watching intently as you return your mouth around him— already bobbing your head to push his entire cock into your mouth. well, he didn’t write anything at all, let alone hear what he was supposed to write down. while his secretary proceeds to talk, kento mutes himself, finally letting out his groans. “fucking hell- sweetheart. didn’t know that mouth of yours could take my cock so well now.”

you moan as a response, bobbing your head faster and slurping his cock deeper into your mouth. kento grunts, a hand lowering to grasp your hair as his head falls back. “f-fuck.. shit.. you’re doing s’good, sweetheart,” kento praises, gently nudging his fingers into your head.

every bob of your head you make causes kento’s core to stir. the dirty and wet sounds of your mouth sucking and licking his cock gradually driving him towards his climax. watching your small mouth pulsate around him was enough for him to cum— and you know he’s almost there. especially with the way he’s moaning louder and ignoring the calls of his secretary annoyingly inquiring if he’s still there— to the way he’s gripping his phone hard enough that it’ll smash into pieces— to the gentle pushes on your head to nudge his tip against your throat.

you gag, almost slightly, mouth quivering from being unable to take him further in. you look up at him, nearly causing kento to bust. “c’mon princess, keep going. keep taking my cock into your mouth like that,” kento continues, gently caressing the side of your cheek. “fuck, i’m about to cum.”

with that statement, you push your mouth away before wrapping two hands around his girth. with your mouth open, you place his tip on your tongue, pumping his cock to catch his cum. kento groans, eyes squinting as he uses the hand once on your cheek to grip the armrest of his chair. he’s close, nearly about to ejaculate all over until you stopped.

“babe?” kento grunts, giving you a confused look as you pull away from him completely, releasing your hands around his cock. you give him a smile, indicating you’re not letting him cum that easily before standing up. kento’s expression turns to a state of disbelief, brows furrowing as he watches you walk away.

“good luck on your work, honey~” you stick your tongue out at him as you give him one last look, opening the door and exiting with a quiet giggle.

during the session of giving your husband a blowjob, you initially thought about edging him— since you know it’ll bother him more than anything, which causes him to be more distracted from his work. it’s happen before, not on many occasions, but during situations like this— most definitely. in your perception, it’s the only way to get kento away from his computer. besides, he needs a decent break.

after you leave, kento’s just sitting there, upset at how you didn’t allow him to cum. he sighs, already becoming defeated in this scheme of yours. kento’s already going mad at this point, he just couldn’t resist his wife at all.

with another sigh, he unmutes himself, cutting off his secretary who’s speaking, “i apologize, sir. i have to go now. my wife…” kento starts, hand traveling to his pelvic area. “my wife got into a small accident.. i have to help her,” he finishes the excuse, gripping his phone and ending the call before his secretary could get another word out.

kento sets his phone aside, quickly zipping his pants before stomping out of the office and towards the master bedroom. he immediately detects you laying on the bed, flat on your stomach, eyes on your phone and pretending to look at something. with the back of your head facing him, you’re unable to see him enter the room— though you hear the faint sounds of his footsteps.

“babe,” kento calls out firmly, but you don’t reply.

during moments like this, you typically ignore him, intentionally— but for fun, since you found entertainment in your husband’s whiny calls for your attention. however, you didn’t expect tonight to be different. severely different.

“you’re just going to avoid me like that after edging me?” kento’s question rings yours ears, causing you to respond with a short hum. you didn’t turn your head as you smile, only swinging your legs as an act to inform him that it was intentional.

you can feel the bed sink down slightly as kento climbs on, crawling towards your body and hovering over you. the least expected thing on your mind was that he’d grab your phone, gently tossing it to the side and grasping both of your wrists with one hand. you finally turn your head, lifting your gaze at kento as he pulls the dotted pattern tie around his neck.

“kento?” you raise a brow.

“disciplining you for distracting me away from my work,” kento responds, lacing the necktie around your wrists and then around one of the legs of the headboard. your eyes widen, feeling how secure your wrists were together with the headboard, and you watch as your husband slowly unbuttons his shirt. “and how you edged me earlier like that. y’know how that makes me feel, princess.”

“k-kento.. baby-“ you squirm, eyes lifting to your wrists bind to the headboard. somehow, this was kinky— being tied up while your partner gets to do anything to you. your legs quiver at the anticipation of what was going to occur next as kento slips off your panties, tossing them aside before positioning two fingers at your entrance.

kento doesn’t utter another word before pushing his fingers past your folds, sinking them into your heat and slowly thrusting them. your eyes widen at the sensation of his fingers spreading your velvet walls, moans plummeting from your mouth as your head falls forward to the pillows.

"w-wait! kento!” you gasp, yet your husband doesn’t stop at all, fingering your pussy from behind while still hovering his body over you. he presses soft kisses on your shoulder, nearing your ear with a short coo. “isn’t this what you wanted though, sweetheart?” he questions, his raspy voice causing your walls to pulsate around him.

right, this is what you want. what you both have been wanting for weeks now. you moan as a response, shutting your eyes as he prods his fingers far into your cunt, curling against your g-spot and stirring your core. kento never fails to please you, even when you don’t remember the feeling of his touch because of how apart you two have been. and once you do, it’s like you’re falling in love with kento again.

“f-fuckkk.. i’m gonna cum— soon, kento,” you manage to slip out, eyes rolling back as his fingers thrust faster, his palm slapping against your vulva. you couldn’t see your husband’s face, but it was flushed from the way you’re practically a mess underneath him already. his wife tied up in his favorite tie that he had received from you years ago, maybe he might like this more than he thought.

however, kento was pretty serious about disciplining you for such actions— he has his ideas, ways that’ll have you crying, even begging. he thrusts his fingers in a quicker pace when being notified that you were close to your orgasm, smiling wider when the pitch of your moans became clearer, solely just because of his fingers.

“i’m just getting started though,” kento replies, almost in a cunning tone. he’s passionate, especially in bed, and this new persona of his was quite appalling. but it’s likable, since it’s coming from your husband. your walls tense around his fingers as you’re about to cum, gripping the material of the necktie around your wrists, your face falls forward and all you can chant over and over is kento’s name.

“shitshit, ken’ i’m—“

your words pause when he stops, immediately pushing his fingers out just when you’re about to cum all over him. with a gasp, you whip your head around, giving your husband that similar expression he gave you earlier ago. kento smiles, eyes lowering to his fingers that were coated with your arousal ppl he asserts his attention to the tight bulge of his pants, cock still aching from being unable to release earlier.

“y’know how it feels now, baby?” kento questions, a hand lifting your dress further above your ass. you whine, nearly in disbelief because you thought of another outcome when you decided to edge him. but now, your husband’s giving you the taste of your own medicine. was it good? most definitely not because the ache of being edged is upmost unbearable.

“i’m sorry, darling- please-“ those words slip out as kento unzips his pants, holding his hard and throbbing cock in one hand. he gives his length several pumps, not even listening to your quiet cries for him. kento could already cum just from the sight of your pussy right there, but he wasn’t going to give in that easily.

kento lines himself at your entrance, rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb which makes you whine and instantly shoves his cock into your aching wet cunt. you’re unable to fathom at how big he is, at how perfectly your walls spread to fit around him like it’s only for him— you came without telling him, tears welling the socket of your eyes as he groans and hovers his body over yours.

“already cumming? i just put it in, princess.”

“b-babe..” you can barely perform any audible words when kento starts thrusting his hips. he’s got you in the prone bone position, sensually fucking his cock into your gummy walls pouncing around him. a groan escapes past his lips when he feels you clench around him, slick walls glazing his girth that starts to form sloppy sounds.

the angle grants kento’s cock an imitable and deep penetration, stroking perfectly against your sensitive g-spot that’s steering you towards another orgasm. heavy moans of pleasure leave your mouth after each plunge of kento’s cock, the tears built in your eyes eventually streaming down your cheeks as your husband’s thrusts become rougher.

“my wife all tied up in her favorite necktie and already becoming a mess, what a sight,” kento comments, bucking his hips faster, ramming into your ass that starts creating sounds of skip slapping. he hadn’t felt the warmth of your pussy in what felt like forever— and he didn’t realize how much he misses it. he could dump all of his load saved up for you right now, but with the way you teased and edged him just seems to bother him a little too much.

“kento- p-please- slow down!” you manage to cry out, but he’s not listening to you, and you knew that for a fact because he just thrusts even faster. for a fact, even when he slows down, you know you’ll be pleading for him to go faster. the heavy drags of kento’s cock punishing your walls just happens to feel overwhelming, but a good overwhelming. your cries echo the room, along with the messy sounds of your wet cunt sucking him in.

“ngh- fuck, sweetheart. i’d give you all of my cum right now, but you don’t deserve it,” kento hisses, lowering his face down to press wet kisses on your shoulder. he can tell how much your womb is begging for his thick and warm load, after all— you love whenever he creampies you, stuff you in all that semen that fills your baby room to the brim.

“pl-please, kento! ‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to—“

“you didn’t mean to?” kento cuts you off, jerking his cock deep when you state your words, only causing moans to follow after. he slaps your ass just to hear you cry louder and tighten your walls around him. you want his cum, all of it— you crave for it that all you can think about being able to receive it is to apologize. “i’m—“

“stop apologizing. there’s no need for you to say sorry,” kento intervenes you again, pulling his cock out before shoving it back into your abused hole. at this point, you’re at the edge of sobbing because of how good it felt, how good his cock was since you also missed it so much. you missed kento— so, so much. “tell me. what’s a reason why my princess deserves my cum, hm?”

“i..” you pause as you’re seeing stars, overstimulated pussy and erotic cries only finishing the response to his question. you deserve his cum— because, well, you’re his lovely and beautiful wife. kento smiles, nudging his cock into your deepest parts, stumbling you towards another orgasm you can’t fight back. your grip around the necktie loosens as you’re unable to hold it much longer, all you want is for kento to fuck you endlessly, make you squirt until you can’t anymore.

every noise in the room is filthy: wet, sloppy, rough and loud. kento’s harsh thrusting causes the headboard to smack against the wall, making your quiet neighborhood possibly being able to hear what’s happening to you. the familiar knot in your stomach forms as you peak another orgasm. it’s too much to handle at that point.

“kento- you’re s’big— i c-can’t anymore!” you sob out, feeling him perch your hips up.

“yes you can princess, we’ve got all night. it’s why you drove me away from my work, no?” kento replies, slapping the side fat of your ass. he’s rambling again about you bothering him and his important work, however it’s true and you can’t deny that. “baby- oh god- i’m—“

“cumming again? how many times has it been already?” kento chuckles, guiding you onto your knees before pushing your hips back against his. he’s pounding you, his own climax he’s been withholding nearly about to unravel inside of you. for a fact, kento can control his own orgasm— despite at how it’s disturbing, especially when he wants to cum. but the night’s not over, and he’s not even close to being done with you.

the following hour consists of kento constantly pulling his cock out when you cry that you’re close, only to have you begging for him to let you cum when his redden tip is teasing against the folds of your swollen cunt. he’d flip you on your back as you’re still tied up before inserting himself back into you, thrusting roughly until you release your juices all over him again.

your mind is foggy and completely overstimulated at kento’s pace, and your tears have practically dried up since there’s no more left. all you can see is kento, your handsome husband, pumping his cock into you— along with his hair that’s usually styled up, covering his forehead due to the amount of sweat built up. you can hear his heavy breaths and moans, and your name in between them.

“i’m gonna cum now, sweetheart—“ kento groans, his body practically falling atop of yours as his thrusts become erratic. “gonna stuff your womb with all of it— ‘kay?”

“yes.. yes, kento-“ you whisper out, whiffing the scent of his hair as you’re unable to hold him close to you. “pleaseeeee.. give me all of your cum, baby.. i need it all—“

kento sinks his cock deep in your cunt, finally cumming and painting the walls of your womb with his massive load. there was so much coming out, practically making your husband quiver slightly as his body completely topples against yours. he holds you close as you’re moaning quietly at the sensation of the creampie before you’re both just panting.

your husband’s lips come in contact with your neck and down to your collarbone, and he leaves gentle pecks before he lifts his head to passionately kiss your lips. it’s more romantic than usual— you can sense his hand gently caressing your face, placing all the love he could barely give you during those past weeks. and you smile against his lips, causing him to smile too.

after, kento removes his cock from your hole, eventually watching the cum follow after and drip out, staining the sheets of your bed with the rest of your previous juices. it’s surprising to kento that he could last and control himself that long. would he do it again? definitely not, but it was an experience.

“are you still upset at me, kento?” your voice returns him back to reality and he rests his body on yours again, pressing his face into your chest.

“you think?”

“i won’t do it again, i promise.”

kento snickers, knowing damn well you will on another night like this. “it’s okay. i needed a break anyway,” he replies, raising his head to meet your exhausted gaze. he gives you another quick kiss before brushing his nose against yours. “i love you.”

“i lo—” you halt your reply, about to move your hands when you realized that you couldn’t. you forgot that you were still tied to the headboard. “you don’t get one back until you untie me.”

kento raises a brow, a faint smirk appearing in the corner of his lips as he leans his body away. “what do you mean? i never said we were done. we still have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart.”

well, shit.

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: i’m so sorry guys, i’ve been so busy and i was rushing to complete this fic. IM SO SORRY IF ITS TERRIBLE I WAS RLLY RUSHING LIKE SO BAD. i’ll go back and proofread soon but rn i have sm other stuff to complete :( i hope you all have been well!! im almost on break so i will finally have my attention on my works and will update more<3 thanks for your support, likes + reblogs + shares are always appreciated.

#loafgeto #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader smut #kento nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #kento smut #kento x reader #kento x you #jjk smut #nanami fic #nanami oneshot #jujutsu kaisen one shot #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk nanami #18+ minors dni #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

669 notes · View notes

ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 4 months

Text

"That's a Wrap!"

Loki’s not-so-triumphant return home from prison is delayed due to a winter storm as the Avengers all find themselves snowed in at the Tower for Christmas. As your holiday mood sinks, the others find a festive way to lift your spirits.

Pairing: Loki x Avenger!Reader Genre: Comfort, longing fluff with a touch of suggestiveness Content Warning: slight nod to bondage, but nothing else Word Count: ~2k

Prompt: The Avengers sneak Loki back from prison and wrap him up as a goofy present for Reader, who's always carried a torch for him.

For @lady-rose-moon's Secret Santa gift!

“It’s kind of funny,” you said softly as you sensed someone joining you in the darkened room.

“What is?” asked Natasha, forgetting that you had heightened perception, so not even she could usually sneak up on you. You could smell the two mugs of spiked cocoa she was carrying as she came in to sit beside you, the vague scent of butterscotch shots mingling in with the rest.

“The snow’s still kind of pretty, even if it’s completely disabling the city,” you answered bitterly, pressing your forehead to the cold pane in front of you. “If we went outside right now, it would probably be gray and graveled slush all over.”

Nat sighed, putting the mugs on the table between you. “But from up here it looks like a postcard.”

“Right.”

It was the worst blizzard New York had seen since 1993. Whiteouts blinded anyone daring to walk outside. Frigid gusts whipped snow drifts against the sides of buildings, burying doorways and windows, trapping people inside. Any car making an attempt on the road turned into a boat that went sailing freely down the icy thoroughfare, careening out of control. Temperatures settled well below the threshold required to close schools. Wind-whipped ice pellets stung the skin while the air froze eyelids shut.

The redhead paused for a moment, setting the mugs down next to you but making no move to sit. “I thought if you wouldn’t go to the party, I’d bring the party--”

“--thanks,” you mumbled, unsure if you wanted any at the moment.

The Black Widow bit her lip, still somewhat ill at ease in gentler social situations. “So, you were really hoping he’d be home by now, weren’t you?” She asked it with a little too much caution, as if the wrong inflection would be enough to spark a meltdown.

“I know you all know,” you mumbled bitterly. “Don’t worry about skirting around it anymore.”

The right corner of Nat’s lip curled. “Thanks. That was getting annoying.”

After the parole of your unwitting beloved, one Loki Laufeyson of Asgard and Jotunheim, was granted and ordered to be served on Midgard, you were practically giddy. Finally after years of talking to him as a prisoner under your observation when you and Steve made trips to Asgard, your hard work convincing both Odin the King and the United Nations paid off, and you’d won freedom for your flame (at least partially).

However, you’d hoped he’d be delivered back to Earth by the holiday, as you’d planned it in your head to make your first date a sweet, light-hearted Christmas Eve outing. It would be such a change from the harsh dungeons of the palace he’d once more willingly called home.

That was when the weather turned, and it made any aircraft landing impossible. The storm began on the 22nd, and it was still raging two full days later. It was ripping the city apart at the seams, making even walking to the curb an impossible task.

Shrugging, you turned away from her and looked out the window again, ignoring Nat when she gently nudged one of the mugs toward you. “Am I wrong for being into him?”

“Yes,” Natasha said without skipping a beat. “Especially considering you’re planning on asking an intergalactic war criminal to get in bed with you.”

“So I like ‘em bad,” you mumbled. “And besides…he’s on parole now. Or probation.Whatever.”

Nat twisted her lip. “You know how I feel about him. And that my feelings would never change, even if he was vindicated.”

“Noted.”

“But,” she went on after a pause, “It still really sucks seeing one of us so depressed on Christmas eve, no matter what the reason. Please come downstairs. We’re doing the Secret Santa gifts, and Thor had your name.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “How come Thor made it home?”

Chuckling, Natasha took a sip of her spiked cocoa. “Is that any way to talk about your possible future brother-in-law?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

You woefully looked out into the snowy twilight, pressing your forehead against the cold glass. Natasha groaned. “Okay, I tried,” she said, getting up, not bothering to grab her own cup. “I’ll tell Thor to put some holes in the box until you feel like coming down.”

Winking, she went slowly for the door, deliberately waiting for you to make sense of her clue. You got up, still skeptical. “He didn’t bring back another direwolf thinking it was a husky, did he?”

She didn’t turn around, only pausing in the doorway to say, “I guess that remains to be seen.”

Thor was always well-intentioned, but his meatheadedness often got you all into trouble, and tonight it would be specifically on your account if things went awry. “Did he really get me something…dangerous?”

“Oh, it’s dangerous,” Nat promised.

Shit, you thought, going to follow Nat downstairs after all. Even if you didn’t want to be there, if Thor had inadvertently caused danger with your ‘present,’ you had to at least take some responsibility for it. It still didn’t stop you from cursing Thor in every way possible while you reluctantly trailed Nat down to the lounge floor.

The air was much hotter on the floor below, and the sudden burst of bright fluorescent lighting forced you to squint for the seconds it took your pupils to adjust. You’d been sitting and sulking in the dark for a while.

“There she is!” chortled Thor Claus, wearing an obnoxiously oversized Santa hat that nearly slid down his face as he rushed over to greet you. “Happy Tidings!”

“Eyyy look who’s here!” chimed in Tony from the bar in the corner, where he was disseminating drinks. “Eggnog? With or without the special ingredient?”

“With, please,” you said quietly. “But I’m not staying long. I’m only here because someone warned me about my gift going rogue, Thor.”

Thor smiled at Nat, who winked from behind you so that you couldn’t see the message. “Friend, it has done no such thing--”

Tony interjected. “--but it is getting a bit crabby!”

Steve rolled his eyes from the sofa while Bucky giggled on his lap. “Yeah, please just open it!” he begged.

You twisted your lip skeptically as Thor pointed. “It’s under the bejeweled arbor,” he said.

Scott Lang nearly spat out the beer he was drinking. “It’s just a Christmas tree, Thor, pal!” he called.

The room was as merry and bright as one would expect for the occasion. Tony hadn’t skimped on a caterer, and they’d delivered a twenty-foot spread of every fathomable Yule-centered food. Vision was blinking red and green (Wanda couldn’t keep her eyes off of him). Nat went off to join Bruce Banner closer to the large tree in the center of the room, which was also where you began to head.

As you approached the tree, everyone else in the room seemed to cease their own activities in order to follow you, whether physically or with their attention. You noticed the low hum of diverse conversations blending together had ceased.

“What--?” you began asking before something caught your eye at the base of the fifteen-foot tree.

Sitting on his legs, tied and wrapped from neck-to-toe in metallic green Christmas wrapping, was none other than Loki, a large red bow plopped sloppily on top of his long black hair. Someone had hung a large holly wreathe around his neck, and above his head, dangling on a bit of fishing line, was a sprig of mistletoe. He was in profile to you, but the moment he could gather from the room that you’d spotted him, he looked for you.

He smiled in spite of his situation when he met your eye. However, his cheeks began to turn pink.

“Um…Merry Christmas?” he asked quietly, causing half the room to erupt in roaring laughter.

“But…I thought…how?” you said, unable to line up a complete thought as your brain was simultaneously attempting to process the surprise that Loki had come home after all..and that he was restrained and sitting in a submissive’s humble pose at your feet.

Thor was so proud of his little trick. He followed you back to the tree, his fists proudly sitting against his hips as he posed like Heracles. “He came back with me.”

“We were going to call you,” said Nat, still laughing (and, admittedly, gaining some satisfaction at Loki’s humiliation). “But then he said something that made Thor and I come up with this idea.”

“Oh?” you asked with curiosity, kneeling in front of the God of Chaos, bound helplessly in crepe paper, cupping his face in your hands. “What did you say?”

Loki raised a brow. “I said nothing,” he bluffed.

“The first words he said were to ask of your health and whereabouts,” Thor said gleefully. “And that’s when the Woman of Stealth and I invented this humorous plot to bring you some Yuletide cheer!”

You couldn’t help but eye Loki up and down, literally delivered to you wrapped in shiny paper. “It’s certainly cheering me up!” you said, your mood elevating with each laugh.

Loki’s cheeks continued to go red and warm.

“He still needs to loosen up a little,” suggested Scott.

“Let’s force-feed him some ‘nog! Anyone got a bib and a funnel?” asked Tony, raising his voice.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus, guys, isn’t this enough?”

Loki smirked and sighed as you leaned over to kiss his forehead gently. “I’m quite thankful you got here before they made good on their threat to…what was it…’don me now in gay apparel’?”

Scott shrugged as Thor and Nat turned to him expectantly, the copious amounts of drink starting to slosh around in his brain. “I thought he’d look less scary in a reindeer outfit!”

“Well,” you said, “let’s at least free you from these Christmas trappings--”

“--no!” Loki quickly refused, nearly causing you to flinch. “They…the humiliations are manifold…” he began to explain.

Thor chimed in unceremoniously. “He’s completely nude underneath his paper bonds!”

You gasped as Loki nodded in the affirmative. “While I assure you I would have no qualms with showing the chiseled, superior physique of Prince Loki to this room of peasants, I have been told doing so will result in having garlands and snowglobes thrown at me.”

“And that’s a promise. I think we’ve all had enough exposure to Loki’s scepter around here,” said Stark. Several people in the room nodded in agreement.

Loki groaned, annoyed and further embarrassed. “Thus, I’m stuck until the party ends, after which you WILL be unwrapping your…err…gift, in privacy.” He struggled gently against the layers of paper tightly wound about him.

You reached up to straighten the bow on his head. “That’s better. And I’ll be more than happy to open my christmas present in the privacy of my bedroom later.”

The rest of the evening was spent in good cheer all around, thanks in part to you gently feeding Loki sips of Stark’s alcoholic eggnog until he was ready to willingly partake in the merriment. It didn’t hurt that you added the incentive of a promised kiss under the mistletoe after the others left.

Finally, the last of the revelers made their way to their bedrooms, you fulfilled your promise to Loki, not able to help yourself as you slipped a finger under the tapped wrappings at his throat, using your long nail to gracefully slice a long cut right down the middle. You peeled the green paper away just enough to expose his bare chest, stopping your breath at the sight. Loki added a sly, sexy grin to the image, completing the statue of the hottest Christmas gift you’d ever received.

“Oooh,” you moaned with excitement, “Merry Christmas to me, indeed!”

Part of @fictive-sl0th's 2023 Secret Santa game

Secret Santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

#loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki/reader #loki christmas #christmas fanfic #avengers christmas #avengers fanfic #mcu christmas #2023 secret santa

217 notes · View notes

mika-no-sekai-blog · 5 months

Text

Not my cup of tea

Word count: 2400+

Warnings: mentions of sex

You voted for this one to be posted, so here you are. I hope you'll enjoy it

I'm sorry for any mistakes as English isn't my first language 🫣

"Y/N, are you listening?" Mor gently touched your hand. The faint smell of cedar and mist reached your nose. He was about to walk in to the living room where you were talking with your best friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Actually..I'm afraid I have to go," you hurriedly excused yourself and walked through the closest wall.

It was exactly a week since you slept with Azriel and ever since then you were avoiding him at any cost. You truly loved him and were used to spend a lot of time around him, so this new situation was a real torment.

It all started when after years of flirting with each other Azriel finally asked you out. You were so happy and thrilled that he willed to deepen your relationship. You had eyes for shadowsinger since you two met, so it was a dream-comes-true situation. It took only few dates and you ended up in his bed.

It was perfect until that night, ideal. There was absolutely nothing to indicate that it could turn out this way. Not even the slightest hint. However the night became the turning point for you. Well, sex itself was amazing. He was amazing and you enjoyed that part, but problem was in everything else. Azriel seemed to have a thing for spanking, degradation, bondage and other similar practices that weren't to your taste at all.

You were ashamed and your heart screamed in pain because he was fantastic male who deserved to be loved and especially, Azriel deserved to have partner who would share the same interests. Unfortunately it couldn't be you. As much as it hurt, it was the fact you had to learn to live with. Problem was that you didn't know how to tell him and you were afraid you could hurt his feelings, so you were rather running away and hiding. You needed time to think it over and find the right words.

You were invited to a dinner in the House of Wind and there's no doubt Azriel would be there, too. You wished you could refuse the invitation, but the dinner was in honor of very important guests, so you had to go. All day long you were thinking how to attend and avoid him at the same time, but you didn't come up with anything useful.

And so with a heavy heart you prepared and went to the dinning room. As soon as you entered you scanned the gathered group and with relieve you found out Azriel wasn't there yet. It gave you some time to do the necessary greetings and socialization. It was time to sit to the table and he still wasn't there. You allowed yourself to relax a bit and took a deep breath. Maybe he had to go to some mission or something urgently needed his attention.

You were about to pick up the spoon and start to eat when you smelled the familiar intoxicating scent. You turned toward the end of the table and saw a glimmer of blue siphon. You panicked for a moment, drops of sweat forming on your forehead. There wasn't time to run away without being noticed by the whole party and shadowsinger. For once you were glad you had unique powers and merged with the chair.

Azriel walked into the dining room and immediately glanced over the people gathered around the table. He was sure you would be here, so he was late on purpose, waiting till everyone was seated. Even in the room full of people he could smell your scent, fresh and strong. You were in there.

He spent the week looking for you, but without success. Anytime he thought he caught you, you simply vanished most likely using the powers that he adored so much. It would make you a great spy, but unfortunately you didn't feel up to the job.

Your behaviour was really strange and unusual and Azriel was afraid it had something to do with the night you'd spent together. He thought you liked it and enjoyed it even more than him, but it seemed he was wrong.

Whatever the problem was, Azriel just wanted to hear it from your mouth. He needed to know what you didn't like, so he wouldn't repeat the same mistake next time. He knew how you felt about him and he felt the same way about you, that's why he dared to ask you out. You were perfect for him and he was decided to do anything to convince you to stay with him even though there were moments when he felt undeserving of somebody as good as you.

Shadowsinger spotted free seat next to Nesta, your second best friend. If you attended which you definitely did, she would know where to look for you. He headed towards her and sat down. "Have you seen Y/N tonight?" he asked bluntly.

Nesta looked at him in surprise. "She was sitting right here a while ago. I didn't notice she left."

"I see," Shadowsinger murmured. It was really strange. Your scent was as strong here as if you were sitting on his lap. His eyes widened as he finally realized what was happening. He had to laugh at himself that he hadn't thought of it sooner. Smirking Azriel picked up spoon and started to eat.

Hidden in the chair that Azriel was seated on, you were waiting for the best moment to slip through the floor to the room under the dining room. You were so nervous, you couldn't even remember what was down there. You waited almost until the desserts. Azriel was engaged in heated conversation with Cassian, his full attention trained on him. This was your chance.

You slowly materialized under the chair. You had to be very careful not to touch his long legs or sensitive wings. Mentally you prepared for hard impact from a height and slowly started to merge through the floor. When you were half through, your lower body hanging in the air in the other room, you inhaled deeply, closed eyes and holding breath you let go. Instead of a fall that would end in a great pain you landed on some tall piece of furniture.

Shakily exhaling you looked around. You were in a small family library. You looked down from the bookcase hoping to find a ladder that should be somewhere nearby. You found it resting against row of opposite bookcases. You sighed.

You were thinking about the best way how to get down, when a deep voice startled you. "What are you doing up there?"

Azriel was leaning against the bookcase on the end of aisle, arms crossed on chest, playful smirk on his face, shadows swirling behind his back. Your throat tightened. You totally forgot about his shadows. They most likely saw your pathetic escape attempt and reported it to him.

"I..I was just.."you couldn't come up with any good excuse.

He pushed off of the bookcase, lazily walking closer. "Let me help you," he stopped under you, holding out his scarred hands.

Heat consumed your face, but nodding you accepted. Azriel put you down as easily as if you were just a feather. But instead of letting you go, he pressed you to his broad chest. Smell of cedar filled your lungs and dulled all your senses. You could feel his hot breath in the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One scarred hand travelled up your back and slipped into your hair. It felt so good, so right that a small moan escaped you. Only then you realized how much you'd missed him, how much you needed him. You wanted to stay like this for the rest of your life.

"What happened?" his voice was so gentle, no more than a whisper. With a jerk you sobered up immediately. It was just simple question, but it stabbed straight to the heart like a dagger. You swallowed hard.

Azriel pulled back a bit so he could look you in the eyes. "Was it too soon? Or did I hurt you? Didn't you like it?" These and other questions haunted him all the week. Now when he had finally found you, they poured out of him like water from a broken dam.

A silver lined your eyes and your lips wobbled. You couldn't look at him any longer. You shook your head, trying to get out of his grip, but he wouldn't let you. His fingers gripped you even harder, pulling you to his strong body.

"Please, don't. Tell me what I did wrong. Please," he begged you desperately. He was so vulnerable at this moment and you knew how hard it's for him to let someone in, to show his weaknesses, to beg for things he wanted. It wasn't easy at all for him to show such a vulnerability. It was against his nature. Yet for you he didn't hesitate.

"You did nothing wrong," you sobbed.

"I had to do something. You are avoiding me ever since then. Please, tell me what it is. Didn't you like the sex?" You shook your head. "So I hurt you."

"No, you never." Brows furrowed, he studied your face, looking for an answer, a hint, anything that would help him to understand.

"I'm trying to understand it, but I can't. I don't want to loose you. Please, tell me what you don't like and I will change."

His words were breaking your heart. It hurt so much to listen how he saw himself, how he considered himself to be bad person, undeserving, hurting others. First tears rolled down your face. "Please, stop it. There's nothing wrong with you. You don't have to change something you enjoy for anybody. It's me, I'm the problem."

He shook head. "Please.."

"You deserve to be with somebody who likes same things. But unfortunately it isn't me. Even though I really wish I could be the one."

"I'm not sure what you mean, but I assure you I can change. Just tell me." Closing eyes he rested his forehead on yours. You knew him enough to notice that he was trying hard to stay calm, not to burst out. You also knew he wasn't angry, not for real. Azriel was just very desperate and determined. "Y/N...Whatever it is, spit it out. Please," he groaned through clenched teeth, gently shaking your shoulders.

There was no other way but to tell him. Azriel wouldn't let you be, if you refused. You couldn't even make up some blunt, because he was the spymaster and he would know you lied. You felt so embarrassed, you had to shut your eyes close. Shakily you inhaled. "Okay..." even your voice was weak and trembling. "I.. well.. you remember as you bounded my hands behind my back, called me your whore.. and the other names.. also those punishments when I didn't answer properly.." You couldn't continue. But apparently it wasn't necessary.

Azriel's hands dropped and he took few steps back. He leaned against the bookcase running fingers through his dark hair. He was pale. "So basically all except the sex part," he mumbled. You nodded.

Groaning he sat down and covered his face with scarred hands. Suddenly he started to laugh so much he cried. You'd never seen him laugh so hard. You were confused and worried. "Azriel.. are you okay?" You wanted to touch him, but you weren't sure if it's good idea right now.

Finally he caught his breath and looked up at you. "Thank Cauldron," he said still smiling wide. "I hated that, too."

Wide-eyed you dropped to your knees. "What do you mean?" you whispered.

"As I said, I didn't like it, too," he laughed again.

"So why did you do that?"

"I thought you like it. That's why."

Now you had to laugh. "But why? Where did you get such an idea?"

"Those spicy novels you read. I noticed there is one you reread again and again, so I thought you must really like what's written there and tried to imitate some of those sex scenes."

Both of you burst into laughter.

"You really read it? Just because you thought I like it?" You laughed so much your stomach hurt.

"I did. Several times to make sure I remember what Im supposed to do," he admitted wiping his tears. You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"It's so sweet of you." He pulled you into his arms and kissed you, enjoying the moment.

"I'd do anything for you." Pulling you even closer he looked deep into your eyes. You wrapped arms around his shoulders playing with the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

"Thank you," you whispered resting your head on his shoulder. Surrounded by his calming scent and warmth you sat there in silence for a while.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you whispered to his hot skin.

"Sure," smiling he whispered back.

"I don't like those novels. They are quite too spicy for me and I'm not fond of what males do to females, the way they interact with them. But I like Nesta and the girls. Every time we have sleepover party or just hang out, they talk about those books a lot. I want to be able to join the conversation and that's the only reason I read them."

"Dove, I'm sure the girls wouldn't like you any less even if you didn't read those horrible novels," Azriel chuckled on the last two words. "Nesta is your best friend. No need to push yourself so hard over something you don't enjoy."

"I know," you sighed. "By the way," you bit down on your lower lip, glad he couldn't see your face now, "if you don't like to do it like in those books, then how do you like it?"

Even from this angle you could see his cheeks turned pink. "Well, about that..," Azriel nervously cleared his throat. "I'd love to show you myself, but I understand that after the previous fiasco you might be against it."

One of his shadows picked a book from shelf and put it into his stretched hand. "Maybe this could convince you to give me one more chance." He handed you the book. You gasped when you read the title. It was one of your most favourite novels.

"If this is what you like," you smiled and kissed the tip of his nose," then we could go to your room and try it out. What do you think?"

"I'm in," Azriel said and standing up with you in his arms he headed to his room.

#az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #sarah j maas #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #azriel fluff

287 notes · View notes

one-divides-into-two · 3 months

Text

Though other classes and social sections will be important partners in the historical movement to destroy capitalism (its highest stage of imperialism) they cannot provide leadership. In each instance the issue of liberation is specific – land in the case of landless peasants, caste oppression for Dalits, male chauvinism for women, ethnic oppression for Adivasis, national oppression for oppressed people, religious persecution for minorities and so on. Being specific they are also partial, in the context of the whole revolutionary project. But this is not the situation of the proletariat. Capitalist bondage is different from earlier exploiting systems like caste-feudalism. It imposes no other compulsion on the workers other than the pangs of hunger. And since, in principle, they are free, there can be no specific liberation suiting them. Every form of exploitation and oppression must be ended. Thus the emancipation of the whole of humanity becomes a precondition for the liberation of this class. The leading role of the proletariat derives from this objective social position. It obliges the proletariat to continue the revolution all the way up till realising a world rid of exploitation.

If this Marxist understanding of proletarian leadership is absolutised it would certainly lead to reification. Both the history and present of the international communist movement illustrate how this emerges with mechanical equations, where proletariat = revolution and communist party = vanguard. On the other hand, economist impulses often seen in the upper strata of the proletariat, social passivity engendered by revisionist, reformist politics that strengthen this economism, and changes seen in the nature of labour and work places, have given rise to views that abandon the proletarian leadership concept. Carried away in the tide of identity politics, they believe that, in future, these movements will give leadership to social change.

Thus we have the two. At one end, reification of the proletariat and the communist party, selfishness that hoists this banner to justify fleeting necessities as common interests. At the other, the lethargic plea to reduce our sights to the partial, to abandon the noble task of an exploitation free world since it is a mere myth. Maoism cuts through this vicious circle. The leading role of the proletariat and the vanguard position of its communist party are potentialities contained in historical circumstances. They can only be realised through creative intervention in the historical moment of a specific society. Similar to other phenomena, this too is a unity of opposites

Ajith, On the Maoist Party

#ajith #maoism

74 notes · View notes

ofrolysdogs · 1 year

Text

letitia wright x jealous!fem!reader

this is my first ever smut involving an actual person, I'm 1,000% sure she wouldn't do something like this (or will she??? we my never know and that's how I like it!) this will also be posted on my wattpad @/ladyportorrrrr

this contains; spanking, light choking, light bondage, brat taming and the smallest ever corruption kink if you squint, mentions of tenoch huerta, mentions of kehlani, teasing, squirting, orgasm denial(?)

‼️ minors do not interact ‼️

you and letitia have had this little relationship for almost a year and a half, you were quite famous as well, however, the relationship is so kept hidden away that no one would even suspect the two of you to even be associated with each other.

there hasn't really been arguments per say; small disagreements that were settled rather easily was at its peak, but neither of you two realized that tonight would be the first ever argument, and it had quite the ending.

it all started when letitia asked if you wanted to come to this night club with her, you declined, offering to stay indoors, leaving her to go with other associates, you thought nothing of it, you trusted her not to do anything, until you were scrolling through twitter to find her trending alongside kehlani, mindlessly seeing what was the deal only to find her... being grinded on.

you didn't know what to feel, anger? disgust? I mean sure to the public eye, she's a single woman, and so are you, but, you both were still together, the both of you were in a relationship regardless of publicity.

she didn't realize what you had for her once. she steps through that door.

----+----

"what's the matter, y/n? you haven't said anything all day..." you noticed how letitia was getting worried about you, you scoffed and rolled your eyes, continuing to eat your lunch as you scrolled through social media, going back to ignoring her existence.

"you know what you did.." you sternly replied. "I saw what you did with kehlani, it was trending all over social media."

letitia blinked at you for a couple of seconds, almost as if she doesn't remember what took place back then, was she drunk? no matter, she let out a sigh, realizing that you were upset at the situation.

"babe, I'm sorry, what we did with each other means nothing, you're the only one I wa-"

"you weren't thinking that when you let her rub her ass on you... I mean come on, what if I started doing that to... hmmm... let say... tenoch huerta? what if we went to a nightclub and I started grinding on him? you wouldn't like that very much, would you!?" you yelled at her, not loud enough for others to hear but to get the message across, so much so that letitia's eyes were widened at your action, she had never seen you that angry before.

you grabbed your phone and stormed back into your shared room, shutting the door behind you, it didn't take you long enough for tears to stream down your face.

"what did I even do wrong...? I should've went to the party, I really should've." you spoke to yourself, completely regretting not going, of course kehlani shouldn't receive the brunt because again, the relationship is private, but.... sigh, emotions ran through so much to where you just sat there, staring at the bedsheets beneath you, staring off into space, completely emotionless.

snapping you out of this trance the door slowly opens behind you with the sound of a creak, turning your head to see your girlfriend peaking her head through the door, before slowly walking inside, making sure not to anger you any further.

"what do you want now." you said, your voice wobbled from you trying to hide your sobs, you felt her presence growing closer, sitting next to you on the bed, you wanted to push her away but your body wouldn't let you, it just sat still.

letitia didn't know what to do, embrace a hug? no, she'd get angrier, the whole situation was... something, ever since she walked through the door you were ignoring her until this very moment, realizing she shouldn't have did what she did, and on top of that, the way you just sat there was almost scary to her, what could happen if you were to just completely snap?

the proper words couldn't form well in letitia, I mean, she knows she messed up big time, but, what could she say really?

"I'm sorry." is all she could really say, "I promise I don't have any feelings for her, I know I messed up..." she held your hands within hers, thankful that you didn't immediately flench at her touch. "...you know this, y/n, whatever we did together doesn't mean anything, and besides, she was dancing on everyone, not just me... and if I'm completely honest I didn't even remember what had happened until you mentioned it.

you looked up at her with bloodshot eyes, a single tear ran down your left eye, your features softened, hoping that after this, everything can be pushed to the side for a better future.

"you really didn't remember what happened last night?" you asked her genuinely, a bit of you believed that she was laying to save face but a bit of you believed that she may be serious, she hasn't said anything about the situation at all and it took her a minute to realize what was upsetting you.

"no, I didn't." was her response.

you looked away from her, letting out a sigh, you didn't know what to feel, were you overreacting? was your anger justified? you felt... something... no matter, you leaned forward to rest your head on her shoulder, her right arm rested on your thigh, ever so slightly near your bottom, her rather lukewarm hands had coiled a feeling in you that made a rather inappropriate entrance, her hands rubbed back and fourth on your thigh, but she stopped as it almost touched your ass to move forward again, repeating the motion over and over.

you felt your clitoris start to grow sensitive as her hands neared your ass, wishing for a touch, you didn't know what to do, initiate something at least.

you weren't really thinking as you got up to straddle her lap, both of you were now on the edge of the bed, your arms resting comfortably on her shoulders, your ass resting on her legs.

"you want something?" she said to you, her hands now resting on your ass, the sensitive feeling down there growing stronger and stronger, you wanted her to make you scream and cry as her fingers penetrated you, to moan her name, to scream as your orgasm took over you, accidentally letting out a soft moan at the thought.

"well, it doesn't even matter, because I know exactly what you want." a couple of soft smacks on your thigh, signalling you to get up, doing exactly that, you were now pinned to the bed with your arms above you, looking down at your submissive form, letitia had quite the idea.

"you don't mind if we try something new?" she asks you, her forehead touched yours, oblivious to what she was thinking, a grin appeared on letitia's face, backing away from you, turning you over on your stomach, you beautiful ass came into her vision, just the perfect shape, it would look so, so much better with a tint of redness to it from all the slaps you received.

her hand ran across the left cheek, before...

one.

you jumped at the feeling, it was familiar, but with this new format it sure feels new.

two.

a soft moan escapes you, it hurts, yes, but for some reason, it feels good, after all that yelling you did earlier, you really needed to get some form of release.

three.

the feeling started to sting uncomfortably, feeling the need to cry again, especially since she was hitting the same spot.

four.

your head shot up in ecstacy, letting out a rather loud yelp.

five.

your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, squeezing your eyes shut.

six.

......

seven.

.....

eight.

"I.... I....." you couldn't form any words.

"what's the matter, princess?" she asked you, damnit, her voice, it just sounded so.....so......

nine.

"fuck!" you moaned out.

ten.

your probably wouldn't be able to sit for the next couple hours, your underwear had to be drenched now because of your juices spilling out with each smack, you felt your underwear being stretched to the side, your juices dripping down on the bedsheets.

"how long have you been wet like this?" the question asked made you even more sensitive, it almost hurts how much you're craving her soft touch to press her fingers against your pussy.

"please..... just touch me already.... I can't take it anymore...." you said softly, your toes curled, legs spreading wider, letting the cold air touch your moistened pussy.

"you look so good like this, though." letitia jokingly said, letting out a few chuckles, before her fingers trickle down to fondle with your folds, purposely passing your clitoris, the juices you gifted her spread across your pussy, making it look as if you had completely wet yourself, you started to grow impatient, you stick your ass up further, trying to get her to touch you properly.

"baby pleaaasseeee...." you moan out.

"please what?"

"touch me there...." you adjust your hips to where her middle finger now slides against you clit, a wave of pleasure swims through you making you gasp.

her fingers now circle your clitoris, you let out soft moans as more of your juices seep out, every so often her name slips between your lips, until you abruptly feel something wet and warm slide against your hole.

"you taste so damn good." in between sucks and slurps, her tongue then travels inside of you, making sure to get every drop, your moans now fill the room, letting out cries of joy as her tongue slides in and out of you, feeling your orgasm nearing, but she stops to get up to grab something.

you curse, it was just right there.

it took some time to see letitia's form again, she comes in with a bag full of goodies, and what I mean by goodies are the toys you both bought for each other.

"what are we trying this time?" you got up to look through the bag with her, until you pulled out a double ended dildo, you two looked at each other as you held the object in your hand.

"that's the one you want?" letitia asks you.

"yes! we can both get off at least." you jokingly said

setting the bag down randomly, letitia goes on to strip herself of the clothes she kept on, you went on to take your shirt and underwear off, you both now we're naked.

you couldn't help but feel a tinge of nervousness despite seeing her body several times throughout the course of this relationship.

"what's the matter?" she asks you as she gets on the bed waiting for you.

"oh, nothing!" you smiled at her before getting on the bed.

you bought this double ended dildo a couple of months ago and forgot about it, you both normally used vibrators and straps on each other, this time was a new experience and you were hesitantly eager to try.

you inserted the dildo inside of you, following behind you, letitia does the same thing, she pushed herself against you, your end of the dildo pushes further into you, touching your cervix lightly, making you yelp in pleasure.

the both of you started moving in sync, pushing yourselves against each other, your moans were louder than hers, but you could still hear her, the pleasure was so strong that you couldn't even look her in the face.

letitia leaned forward to pinch her fingers between both sides of your jaw, your lips touched once more, tongues swirling within each other to silence out the loud echoey moans, you felt yourself reach peak almost, your eyes begin to water as the feeling becomes unbearably strong.

instantly pushing yourself away from her lips and the dildo sliding out of you, juices squirt out of you, you rubbed your clit as you squirted all over her and the bed.

however, letitia hadn't reached her orgasm yet, you decided to help her by leaning down to where your face meets her own pussy, your tongue grazes against her clit lightly as you push the dildo inside of her.

and now her moans echoed the room, yelling for you to go faster as she's near, you did exactly that, your lips made a suction to suck in her clit, until she abruptly pulls away, her juices splashed all over your face, you manage to catch some in your mouth, getting a taste of her.

everything came to an end, seeing the mess you two had made all over the bed, knowing the sheets would need to be washed.

"are you alright now?" letitia asked you, knowing what she was referring to, you rolled your eyes jokingly as you take the sheets off the bed.

"yeah, I guess..."

#letitia wright x reader #letitia wright #shuri x reader #shuri udaku x reader #shuri smut

771 notes · View notes

lullabyes22-blog · 10 months

Text

Silco Headcanons - NSFW🦈💕💀

Dating Silco headcanons🦈💕💀

Dating Sevika headcanons🐉💕

Jinx Headcanons💣

Mel Headcanons 🦊

Sevika Headcanons 🐉

Silco Headcanons Part I and II 🦈

Heavy NSFW - Dirty talk, bondage, sadism, mind-games, general awfulness

Some men are patterned lovers: a certain way of touching, kissing, fucking, with only minor variations. They know what they like, what they're good at, and rarely venture off the beaten track.

Silco is not one of them.

Despite his outward veneer of control, the bastard thrives on unpredictability. He's also got a taste for exploring the taboo and pushing both social and psychological boundaries. Definitely one of those people who believes in leaving both morality and political correctness at the bedroom door.

If you’re in the bedroom at all.

The downside to this attitude is a restless boredom once routine sets in. It also means that he discards his partners (playthings) without batting an eyelid, and is always on the prowl for more stimulation.

Sex for his younger self was once a form of intimacy and connection-building. For his older self, it's a means of ownership and an insidious tool of control. Think of how a mermaid's song lures you deeper into the waters. Then the waves fill your head, your eyes, your lungs, and swallow you inside-out.

That's sex with Silco in a nutshell.

Abandon sense, all ye who enter.

He initiates the way he does everything else.

Talking.

He has no preferred pattern: it can be anything from banter to argument to insults. In each case, the aim is singular. It's meant to destabilize you - and make your whole body pay attention.

In the middle of a businesslike discussion in his office, you might feel a cool skim of fingertips on along your thigh and the dark chill of a whisper in your ear: "Since my lunch is late, I'll just have to feast on you. And what better place than on my desk?"

Or in the middle of an argument, he might seize you by the nape of your neck, corner you against the wall, and hiss, "Let's see if that mouth is good for more than backtalk. Get on your knees. Now."

Or bent over his knee, your legs dangling and the blood rushing to your head as his hand moves languidly over your welted ass, he'll murmur, "I can't decide what's the prettier sight. You, choking down tears. Or choking down my cock."

His verbal play is always aimed squarely at what's between your ears - because that's the fastest feedback loop to sparking what's between your legs. He's also practiced at tailoring his approach depending on who he's with, what they respond to, and what he wants from them.

On a dime he can be courteous or crude. Patient or possessive. Tender or terrifying.

For instance, he might notice your fondness for family anecdotes and accurately deduce that your walls come down when transported back to the idyllic era of childhood. He’ll engineer a situation where you feel like an innocent again, and trust him wholeheartedly… all the better to inveigle his way into your pants.

Or he might notice you're ultra prudish, and have a ramrod’s need to be in control - only to put you in a situation where you're utterly at his mercy, thereby stripping away both your inhibition and resistance, so he becomes your sole anchor to sanity.

Or he'll observe you have an innate desire to help others, then manufacture a façade where he's the needy one, and confess how you are indispensable to him, and must help him with X or Y. All the better to stoke your ego and lure you into his web.

The aim of each strategy is sexual. But it's the same approach he employs in the boardroom, in the back-alleys, and in the streets. He preys on what people want, and convinces them he's the door to what they desire: transgression, freedom, strength, salvation etc.

In terms of foreplay, it's as colorfully varied as everything else he enjoys.

With his tarts and toys, he's purely into self-gratification. After all, he's shelled out coin for it - and expects his money's worth. In those settings, he's rough and straightforward - very much, Wham-bam-there's-your-tip-my-crew-will-see-you-out. Even his conversation is tersely monosyllabic: "Strip, kneel, suck, there, harder, fuck, take it, come."

With a fun fling, he's much more wryly accommodating, albeit still calling the shots. But he will go through the dance of give-and-take, and take an interest in what gets his partner hot. "If you'd like me to stop, do share. If you'd like more-" A crooked little smile. "Beg."

With a partner he actually cares about (!?), the foreplay is in motion from the moment he's in your company. He'll be much more attuned to moods, receptive to body language, and softer in his overall approach. During the act itself, expect spontaneous generosity and lots of patience. Even his wordplay will be different - almost reassuringly simple. "Sssh. Take all the time in the world. I'm right here."

Re: penetrative sex - once again, it varies. On the whole, he prefers it rough, and enjoys a little pain mixed in with the pleasure: giving or receiving. His affinity for water also comes out in his rhythm: languid or brutal, a rolling tide or a punishing tempest, depending on his mood.

The man has a black cauldron of rage bubbling inside, and has spent a good decade microdosing on Shimmer.

Suffice it to say: there's some serious snap in those hips.

With his tarts, he's all about chasing his own high: just a good hard dicking until he's shot his wad. No real banter: just a sensory instruction-manual of grunts and gasps: "Take it", "Move your arse", and "So fucking good".

With a fling, he's attentive, but keeps a check on his libido, a corner of his mind always focused on observation, leverage - and that perpetual edge of mockery. At certain points, he'll slow down or stop altogether right when the going gets good. When his partner starts bucking or clenching to maintain friction, he'll chuckle "Eager, are we? Where's the rush?" and continue the grinding torture until they're a quivering wreck - right before he pounds them into jelly.

With a lover he's fond of, he'll tend to switch it up, depending on his mood and their desires. At times, he'll be so dreamlike as to verge on doting. Plenty of smooth, deep, languid strokes and praise practically spoonfed like dark honey into the ear. "Ssh. Let me take care of it, petal. Just let go." Other times he will pin them facedown into the sheets and absolutely wreck them - as much for his pleasure as theirs. "Mine. Only me. You belong to me."

In all cases, he is unapologetic in what he wants, and can be a demanding beast - especially if you're being coy.

"Want more?" he'll whisper, right before he slaps your ass red. "Beg for it."

He's flexible in terms of positions. His favorite is doggy-style. It lets him control the pace, leaves his hands free to roam, and to see his partner's expressions if there's a mirror ahead. The view of your ass is a fetching bonus.

Preferred orifices: down the throat or up the ass. Less mess afterward, and more peace of mind.

Fundamentally, he enjoys pushing limits - both his own and his bedmates. It's less about the act itself, more the visceral honesty it evokes. He's also got a range of kinks. Bondage, blindfolds, and edgeplay are a given. But he equally enjoys voyeurism, choking, sensory deprivation, impact/knife and temperature play - as well as multiple partners.

In fact, his favorite game is to push two playthings together, then step back to savor the fireworks: at once the spectator and the master of ceremonies.

As for oral, he's a devotee to both sides of the coin. He likes suckjobs - a lot - and takes them with an attitude of idle entitlement. One moment his fingers will be playing with your hair, the next he'll coax you to kneel right under his desk. "Mmm, that's it, sweet. Harder. Like that. All the way down."

He also likes giving suckjobs. He's patient, canny, and has a filthy tongue. He enjoys edging his partners, and has a cruel streak for orgasm denial. It's as if he has a vested interest in making you beg, even when he's the one on his knees. "What's that, tartlet? You want to come? Hmm. I don't know. I quite like the view." A hand caressing your face - right before he hooks a couple fingers into your mouth. "Now be quiet. You're not finished until I am."

To summarize, Silco is a psychological sadist. His aim is to deconstruct your mind, and decouple your defenses. Sex is less a way to assert power so much as a way to demonstrate its fluidity. It's also a form of violence - whether it's a palm circling your throat or a voice husking commands in your ear.

If you want him as a lover, you should come armed with an attitude of unshakeable self-confidence. He's never met anyone he couldn't bend to his will, but there's nothing more attractive to him than a strong-willed playmate. He's also attracted to partners with a smart attitude and a stubborn streak of independence. Be prepared for him to bait you to the breaking point. Beware that once he's got you vulnerable, he'll have you so convinced he's all you need that you'll beg him to keep you.

And be forewarned:

“Like everything in Zaun, nothing comes without a price.”

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #silco headcanons #silco headcanon #silco x reader #fanfic #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo

172 notes · View notes

kaybreezy3000 · 4 months

Text

Bad Things (Five Hargreeves/Reader)

~Psychopathy is a neuropsychiatric disorder marked by deficient emotional responses, lack of empathy, the inability to distinguish between right and wrong, poor behavioral controls, and behaviors that contradict social norms which then commonly result in persistent antisocial deviance and criminal behavior.

Enter, Five Hargreeves, everyone's favorite little psycho.

(Chapter Three Post)

---If you need to go back to read the summary and the first two chapters first, hit the link below. Chapter 4 through seven will be added soon...

Link to Chapters 1-2

Warnings and tags: Mental disintegration, psychological trauma, effects of isolation, masturbation, non-consensual voyeurism, explicit sexual content, bondage, POV altering, touch starved, obsessive behavior, inanimate object love, and many other sexually deviant themes all mixed with a lovely twist that you will hopefully enjoy...

---In this chapter, we start the POV switches, and they will be made clearer by large page breaks in-between.

Chapter Three: Creep

Running through his options, Five makes the quick determination that after what he just did, he can’t stay here. He needs to get the girl back inside her apartment, then he will get Dolores and together they will run.

Thanks to his fake ID, nobody knows who he really is, but as soon as the girl can, she’s going to call the police and have them search the apartments across from hers. His family will figure out what he’s been doing, and Five can already hear them going on and on about how disgusting he is.

Everyone already thinks he is a psycho, and this further proves it. His siblings may not throw him under the bus because doing so would obviously tie him to them, but it’s still possible that someone could figure out that the once famous missing boy Number Five Hargreeves is not dead like the world thought and he is not at all the person he was before he disappeared.

The possibility of the whole world knowing about the monster he has become is only adding to the heartbreak that the people he has cared about and fought for his entire life will hate him more than they already do. All this has Five questioning everything.

They were all he lived for, and he lost them, and now this.

“You really screwed yourself this time you sick asshole,” Five angrily curses as he starts hauling the unconscious girl across the parking lot towards her building.

As if all that isn’t bad enough, Five realizes that he just ensured himself a lifetime of running from the law. This means no more trying to pretend to be a part of something he’s not, but it also means that he will have no other option but to resort to other, much less legal means of surviving.

He failed at life again and there’s a big part of him that just wants to throw in the towel and let them lock him away. But the same part of him that wouldn’t give up for the last sixty years is still there in the back of his mind screaming at him to keep fighting.

Committed to his plan, Five is about to start crossing the short distance to the girl’s building when a man in a janitorial uniform comes out the back door. Being taken off guard by his sudden appearance, Five inelegantly drops to his knees behind a parked car with the girl folding down with him on the dirty cement.

As the man crosses the lot, Five does his best to calm his heavy breaths to a more manageable level. He hasn’t had the chance to let his racing heart slow down since his extremely drunk sprint down the stairs.

Not being his usual stealthy, in control self and not being able to easily blink himself out of this situation is enough to make Five’s mounting panic much worse. The fact that he just heard the door electronically lock after the guy closed it isn’t helping either. It didn’t even occur to him that her building might need an entrance code.

“God, damnit!” he quietly hisses.

He could slip in behind someone, but that’s not likely at this hour, and not with the girl passed out in his arms. Hitting random buttons in the hopes that someone will buzz him in will get the police called or it will wake the whole building, so that’s a big fat no.

As the other man pulls out of the lot, Five makes a split-second decision based on his most recent plan being blown all to hell. He does not want to leave the girl outside lying on the ground, especially in this neighborhood. He’ll have to leave her in his apartment. He’s screwed one way or the other. It really doesn’t matter where he puts her as long as it is safe. He’ll grab only what he has to, and he’ll be gone before she fully comes to.

Five pushes his back against the car, using it to help balance him as he gets them both upright again. Then swooping the girl up in his arms, the alcohol gets the best of him and Five accidentally stumbles backwards into the car before moving forward towards his own building.

“I am never drinking again,” he declares, weaving with each step he takes. Five is trying so hard to push past how dizzy he feels, but drunk is drunk and it’s getting worse.

After the girl blew him off tonight, Five had the grand plan of passing out in a super sloshed stupor. The whiskey he tried to drown his sorrows in is catching up with him by this point and he’s realizing that finishing the whole bottle was just one more bad decision to add to the many others he’s made tonight.

When Five opens the lower-level door to his complex, he can see that no one is in the shabby hallway that leads to the elevator, and it seems like his shitty luck is changing because the thing is working, and it’s already on the ground floor.

There’s no way he would have made it up the stairs at this point. Heavy feet scuffing along across the worn tiles, Five moves inside, throwing his elbow against the button for the seventh floor.

As soon as the doors close, he woozily drops his weight back on the wall, and sets the girl down, keeping one arm around the girl’s waist to hold her upright and the other angled across her chest to keep her from tipping forward.

Five can hardly grasp how quickly he just fucked everything up. A few minutes ago, he was in the throes of personal passion, about to blow his load all over his costly dress pants, and the next he sealed the deal that he was completely ruining his already ruined life.

Five is being consumed by his deeply depressing thoughts about himself as the old elevator doors close and it groans to life. The girl’s flowery smelling hair is rubbing up against the side of his cheek, and he can feel the heat of her body pressing back against him in a very tormenting way considering his self-self-absorbed cock brain hasn’t caught up to speed yet that he is not sitting there in his kitchen with his hand on his dick about to destroy his own lap with jizz.

His partial erection from that sad whack fest is wedged right between this girl’s warm cheeks, and it’s just like he was imagining positioning himself on her Monday night.

Now that Five has the girl’s body pressed up next to his while he’s holding her in what many would think looks like it’s a very loving embrace, the truth that he has actually been violating her by watching her and getting his rocks off is impossible to ignore.

You can’t imagine something if it’s right in front of you physically touching you. The entire fantasy he’s been creating in his head just completely disintegrated.

Now things just got very real and it’s not in a good way.

“I am so sorry I am doing this to you,” he hotly breathes, his forehead falling even more against the girl’s shoulder as he forces down the growing sickness in his stomach.

With extreme sadness, Five thinks about the trauma he just inflicted on this girl. Five knows trauma and his own experiences with it is what resulted in him being unable to put himself out there to have anything worthwhile in his life.

He had wanted nothing more than to know what it was like to passionately hold someone he cared about and who also cared about him, but the horror of how it’s happening right now is unbelievable. It seems like this must be happening to someone else.

Five is so tormented by all this, and intoxicated, that he doesn’t realize he hasn’t been holding any pressure on the girls’ neck since he carried her inside. Her knuckles make unexpected contact, hitting the bridge of his nose. Five eyes instantaneously pinch shut to the intense sensation of shooting pain that makes everything in his face burn and his eyes flood with tears.

The girl’s furious screech reverberates inside the elevator. “Get off me!”

Taking Five’s momentary inability to function, her other arm wiggles free from the arm he has around her waist. She pulls away, maneuvering her fist back and down at the same time, nailing him right between the legs.

“Ff-ah-ckkk!”

Five’s sudden high pitch yelp comes out just as loud as the girl’s cry, but unlike her, his verbal alarm ends in a very hushed groan followed by a whisper of a wheeze as he frantically fights not to double over and also maintain his hold on the back of her sweater.

Five gags down his vomit that is threatening to make this even worse, and while he is immersed in the sensations of pure agony, she comes at him again.

Somehow, Five manages to move his head back just in time, narrowly avoiding another jab to the face. Her hand hits his upper sternum instead and just as fast, her fingers find their way around his silk tie, yanking his head forward with it.

Five instinctively retaliates by violently twisting his arm around her neck.

“St-ooo-ppp,” he splutters as they choke each other.

“Let go!” she piercingly shrieks before she’s completely deprived of the air to do so.

Dropping her weight as her fingers dig at Five’s arm doesn’t have the desired effect of getting him to let go, so she digs her heels into the floor plowing backwards instead.

Her reverse attack makes Five’s dress shoes slip out from under him on the grimy floor. The impact of Five’s head as it swings back into the metal wall makes a cracking sound that leaves the wall vibrating.

Totally in shock and seeing the brilliant scattering of stars filling his vision, Five’s free arm swings out, searching for the railing behind him, but he misses. He starts to lose consciousness. All at once, his full body weight is hanging on the girl’s neck as darkness begins swallowing up his remaining vision.

The girl lets out a helpless sounding whimper as they start to fall.

Beyond faint and feeling equally helpless, Five inadvertently squeezes his arm tighter, using the girl to pull himself upright again. To his relief, her fingers suddenly release the sleeve of his dress shirt and her arms flop down limply at her sides.

DING!

At the same time the doors rumble open, the girl’s legs give out and Five almost drops her.

Unable to think let alone function like he normally would, Five hoists her back up then unsteadily stumbles out of the elevator with the girl’s feet dragging between his legs.

Light-headedly glancing both ways, he is beyond grateful that no one is out there looking to see what all yelling was about.

Beaten and bloodied, Five makes it inside his own door a few seconds later and his first move is getting them both over to the bed because he still feels like he may fall flat on his face.

Five hastily drops the girl down next to Dolores, then he moves towards his kitchen, swaying as he navigates the short distance.

After getting the shit beat out of him, he is quickly processing the fact that he needs to adjust his original plan to drop her and go. He is going to need to shake at least some of his drunken and concussed brain fog before he can walk even remotely straight. If he doesn’t, he may pass out in the street or his own hallway with his face smacked down in a pile of his own puke.

The idea of the cops finding him like that, with the addition of Dolores lying next to him, is enough to push along Five’s new approach to make this all still work out in both their favor. The most important thing he figures right now is that he needs to keep this girl quiet for a little while before he is functioning enough to leave.

Five throws open the utility cabinet, his unfocused eyes landing on the hook with the wound-up nylon rope hanging on it. The apartment’s previous other weirdo occupant had left many things behind, but unlike the loads of old stuffed animals, this was one thing that Five didn’t throw away being it had many practical uses. In this case, tying someone up.

“They are right, you are a psycho,” Five mutters to himself as he digs around finding nothing else useful.

Next, opening the first drawer next to the refrigerator, he grabs his switchblade and his revolver. It had been Five’s norm to always carry both these weapons, but he stopped when he figured out that there were no field operatives from The Commission coming after him in this new world because there was no more Commission.

Klaus was right, he thinks. He was better when he had an evil taskmaster to keep him in line.

Staggering a little as he turns around, he sets the gun on the kitchen table and tucks the knife into the waistband of his pants. Next, making it back over to the bed with what he figures will be enough to keep the girl safely detained till he is more composed, Five is surprised to see that she isn’t waking up yet.

He says her name.

Nothing.

Five throws the rope on the bed, then picks up her wrist, checking her pulse. He doesn’t feel one, so his trembling fingers move to her neck, pressing against her throat instead. The girl doesn’t react to him touching her, and Five still can’t feel anything.

“Oh, no, no, NO, NO !” He says the girl’s name a few more times, and again he gets nothing. “Dolores, I didn’t mean to- Shit, shit, fucking SHIT!"

Feeling like he’s losing what’s left of his mind, Five doesn’t know what to say, and even though Dolores is right there, she doesn’t respond to his terrified ramblings.

Even though his mind is spinning out of control, Five’s years of training kick in. He jumps on the bed, rolling the girl on her side. Then he lifts her chin, putting her in the recovery position that you are supposed to do for someone when trying to revive them after being fully choked out. The maneuver makes the girl’s mouth fall open and Five checks to make sure that her airway is not blocked, or that her own tongue didn’t slip back in her throat.

Everything is normal. She should be able to breathe, but for some reason she is not, and she is not waking up.

Kneeling over her, one hand on her back, Five starts rubbing. “Come on, breathe! You’re strong, you just showed me how strong you are. Breathe damn it!”

He knows very well how this works, and giving her CPR will do nothing because this is not happening to her because of cardiac arrest.

Lifting her legs so that more blood moves to her brain is not that effective at helping to revive someone in this condition, and it’s sure as hell not going to work if she’s already gone. Five could stand her on her head and no amount of blood running to her brain will bring her back if she is dead.

“Come on! NO! You can’t die!” he angrily pleads, even as both his hands keep at it, one now methodically trying to massage life into her cold legs.

Counting the minutes in his head, Five can’t really say how long he would have been squeezing tight enough to fully deprive her of oxygen. He knows that all it takes is a matter of a minute like that and someone can face permanent brain damage or death.

They were in the parking lot for only a minute or so after she swung the bat at him. He knows he let up on her throat enough during that time because she woke up a little when they were crouched behind that car. She was moving in his lap, and he heard soft moaning sounds coming out of her. Then as soon as the car pulled out of the lot, he carried her in, not choking her at all.

In the elevator, he fucked-up big time and he let her wake up completely. Five is sure that she was never completely out more than twice and for no more than about thirty seconds at a time.

Right?

From where Five has himself positioned next to the girl, one of his knees is pressing against Dolores’s hip and with glistening eyes he looks from the girl to her.

“I didn’t mean to do this,” he insists.

Again, Dolores says nothing to calm Five or reassure him like she normally would. His watery eyes plead with her, but he gets nothing.

“Oh my God, thank you,” Five cries, with his head swinging back to the girl. His hand on her back slowly begins to rise and fall as she comes back to life. “That’s it. Keep breathing, it’s going to be okay.”

The girl slowly begins to move her legs and Five puts his hands under her side, sliding her small body up closer to the headboard. She makes a small sound of complaint at being handled, but he still needs to restrain her hands, or she’ll be trying to fight him again the second she’s aware of what is happening.

Mechanically, Five flips open his long switchblade so he can quickly cut the correct lengths of rope with it. Then just as fast, he makes tight loops around both of her wrists. Seeing that he’s at least not totally fucking that up that lesson he learned over and over as a child, and that her arms are snuggly secured above her head to his headboard, he risks looking over at Dolores again.

“I think she’s okay. I know how this looks, but you know that I didn’t mean to do this. I was never going to go near her. It was only supposed to be just me waahh-"

Five can’t finish that one, and that is because saying that it was only supposed to be him watching the girl doesn’t make it okay. None of this is okay. His eyelids lower and he rubs the area between his eyes.

“Please talk to me, sweetheart. I don’t know what to do. I think something is very, very wrong with me. I need you,” he pleads, winching in pain as the trickle of blood from his nose continues to drip down over his upper lip.

Five gets nothing back, and right now, he needs his trusted voice of reason more than ever. In his head, he can only imagine that Dolores is not acknowledging him because she is questioning why he is tying this poor girl up like this if he supposedly didn’t mean to do this.

To him, she is probably thinking that he is going to hurt her even more than he already has and that makes Five spiral even worse.

“Please don’t hate me. The only reason she’s tied up is because I need to stay here long enough to make sure she’s going to make it, and I can’t leave like this. I need time to clean up,” he tries to explain. “I will get us out of here. We can start over,” he promises.

His blurring eyes dart from Dolores to the girl, then back again.

With tears starting to run down his face, Five gasps out a devastated sob, “Dolores, I need help. Please, talk to me!” Again, she doesn’t react, and his reddened eyes fearfully widen. “Dolores!” The quiver in his voice matches the quiver in his bloodied hands.

Nothing.

Five just drug in the near lifeless body of the very real girl from across the alley, placing her in the bed next to his beloved. Now, having them both laying there opposite each other, all he can see in the mannequin’s normally devoted expression of limitless acceptance is the actual lifeless object she is.

Just like in the elevator with the girl right there with him, now Five is finding that he can’t pretend anymore.

Dolores’s face stares out blankly, the matte finished paint of her sky-blue eyes will not meet his.

In Five’s entire time with her, this has never happened.

As Five moves himself down the girl’s legs, snaking the nylon around her ankles, he does so with the shock of knowing that Dolores finally left him.

Now he really has nothing to live for.

Feeling totally out of it, liquid dribbles from your slack mouth. You feel the softest tickle as the hair that’s stuck to your cheek pulls away.

“Wha thhh-ah," you start to mumble, but you are so groggy that at first you can’t even complete a thought let alone string two measly words together.

It feels like you are in bed, but you don’t remember going to bed.

In your jumbled thoughts, you recall going on a blind date with a guy from a stupid dating website. That obviously turned out to be a very bad decision. You should have known this guy was bad news when he showed up early and he somehow snuck inside your building instead waiting down in the parking lot.

At the end of the night, the douche monger insisted on walking you to your door, and then he really upped his creep factor when he jumped on you.

You remember feeling extremely unhinged and completely repulsed by what he did. As such, you figured that it was a excellent idea to educate the prick on what would happen if he ever tried that date rape shit on anyone again.

As this all comes back to you, your eyes start to flutter open, but the room is dim, and your vision is badly distorted.

More liquid slips inside your parted lips.

“Please, wake up,” the softest male voice worriedly whispers.

Hearing that, you immediately try to move, but like the voice, everything feels wrong. It feels like your arms and legs aren’t working right.

You feel a warm hand on your back slowly moving back and forth.

That’s when you remember that strange man in the parking lot.

“No,” you croak out, as you remember the unmistakable shape of his firm manhood pressing up against your ass as he cut off your air supply with the constriction of his arm around your already bruised throat.

It feels like something is still wrapped around your neck but whatever it is, it’s not painful and tight, it’s cold.

This doesn’t make sense.

Your mouth quickly shuts, your eyes flying open, as you try to sit up. Adding to your horror, you find that you can’t. Your arms flex and pull but they won’t give in to your request. Your chest and bottom rise off the bed only to immediately get pulled back down.

As your vision clears, you realize that someone is sitting next to you.

Dark hair dangles over pale green colored eyes.

The expression on his face is empty, not at all the way it was when you first laid eyes on it. Then, this lunatic appeared harmless. He even looked greatly concerned for your well-being. His eyes were conveying such open sorrow that it threw you off enough to let him approach.

He was acting like he knew you. He called you by name.

You open your mouth to scream but he quickly covers the sound with a thick fold of fabric that a second ago must have been around the cold pack that is now on his lap. His eyes narrow as his hand firmly presses the towel against your face.

As air wheezes through your partially blocked nose, he says, “Don’t. Do. That. Again.”

Every word out of his mouth is filled with warning.

Even if you weren’t already completely scared stiff, just the look in his eyes has the sound of your own blood thrumming in your ears and your heart feeling like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

This can’t be the same voice you just heard speaking so compassionately.

Looking for help, your eyes try to take in the room behind him, but you don’t see anyone else.

Angling your chin backwards, you see someone illuminated by the small bedside lamp, but your own eyes grow even wider when you realize that the woman lying there next to you is not alive.

It’s an old, full body mannequin like you would normally see at a dump or in a second-hand clothing store.

You try to scream again but he pushes his hand down harder, completely muffling it.

“I said, DON’T!” he growls as you yank at the ropes binding your wrists. They won’t budge and that’s because you are tied to a very heavy-looking wooden headboard.

Trying to move your legs again, you realize that each ankle is tied much like your hands, then fastened by extended lines of rope to opposite bed posts at the foot of the bed.

It dawns on you that this is his bed.

This perverted asshole saw what your douchebag date did to you. He has been watching you for who knows how long, and now he has abducted you. Your legs are spread wide, and your skirt is pushed up so high from your floundering that you know he can see right under it from where he’s sitting.

You can’t believe this is happening, but it is.

Again, you remember feeling this fucker pressing himself on you. He was hard.

This guy was turned on by squeezing the life out of you, and he has a plastic woman in his bed!

Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!

This is so bad.

As you mentally lose your shit, his eyes never leave yours. One of his thighs is pressing against your side and he’s still holding the bottle he must have been feeding you with, but from the way he is sitting at the edge of the bed, you can’t tell if he is still aroused.

You want to scream at him to let you go but you can do nothing. You are entirely at his mercy.

The only reasons you can come up with for why he is doing this aren’t good, but you force yourself not to go there. You have to focus.

Since he’s not actually touching, touching you yet, you try to concentrate on the rest of your surroundings, looking for some way out of this.

There is an old looking electric stove in a small kitchen area across the room, with an equally old looking refrigerator next to it. A small beat-up looking table sits under one of the only two windows and it has an empty liquor bottle on it and something black that looks like a revolver of some kind.

Great.

You remember smelling the strong scent of booze on his breath in the elevator. He is clearly shit faced. Your eyes flit back to his. He hasn’t moved at all.

Oh my God, you are going to die.

Looking out again, you see that in front of the bed, there’s a very battered looking recliner. Other than the basics, there is nothing someone would have that would give signs that they lived there. There are no pictures on the walls. No TV, no shelves full of personal belongings. Next to the recliner, on the floor, you can just make out that there is a stack of books, but that is it.

You see what must be the door to get out, and one that is narrower and has slatted vents in it, meaning it’s a closet. Behind you, when you tilted your head back to look at what was holding you from moving your arms, you saw what appeared to be a tiny bathroom.

At first glance, you see nothing that can help you. It’s just some psycho guy’s shitty shoe box sized apartment.

His indifferent reaction as you look around his home is jarring. The flawlessly smooth skin on his face gives the impression of youthful innocence, but what he’s doing proves he is far from it.

You’re betting this fancy dressing Ted Bundy has got piles of bodies under his bed and body parts galore in his freezer. Now you see it; he’s totally the type!

SHIT!

His expensive looking three-piece suit didn’t make sense in this neighborhood. Now splatters of blood stain the sleeves of his white dress shirt. He clearly used the cuffs to wipe his nose based on the numerous red smears.

You wish so badly that you’d hit him hard enough to break his whole stupid face.

You risk looking at more of him, and you see that he is missing the tie he had on before, and you can only assume that is because the first chance you had, you latched on to it and tried to strangle him with it.

He is clearly not taking any chances of that happening again.

Uselessly trying to wriggle away from him, your arms pull down on the ropes and the heels of your bare feet slide across his rumpled bedding.

He took off your shoes!

Your stomach sickens with the realization that he has already been touching you when you were unconscious.

Again, you notice how high your skirt is, but he isn’t looking there, his cold eyes remain fixed on yours.

You can’t help it when you scream under his hand, but that only makes him even more scary looking. His features contort ominously.

“This is not what I wanted. I-” He suddenly pauses, a line forms between his eyes as they run over your face, down your body and back up again. “You never should have lifted that bat.”

You try to tell him that you don’t care what he wants or that he didn’t want his head bashed in, but your words are totally stifled by the persistent pressure of his hand.

“You kept fighting me. I had no choice but to do what I did,” he scolds, like this is your fault rather than his.

He reaches over to the bedside table, setting the bottle of water down, then he picks up another length of rope off of it. The moment he removes his hand from your mouth, he forces your lips apart, jabbing the cloth inside. His other hand is already behind your head, pushing it forward as he works the rope between your lips.

As he ties the ends at the nape of your neck you realize it’s to keep the gag in. Your mouth is so full of fabric that not even the roaring animalist growls coming out of you are even remotely loud enough to get anyone’s attention.

Your teeth bare down on the nylon fibers as you glare at him in blind hatred.

Eyes darting away from yours, he slowly starts to sit up, but he abruptly stops when you let out a pathetic mewing sound. Those green eyes of his give the faintest hint of something as he watches the burning hot tears rolling back into your hairline.

His hand comes up brushing his dark chocolate colored hair out of his eyes before tucking it behind his ears. His eyes close so sluggishly it is like it pains him to take in the very deep breaths he is all of a sudden taking.

The heavy fringe of his lashes sweeps his cheeks covering the dark hued skin under his eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, but the faint bruising that is starting to form is also from when you hit him, and it only seems to be showing at all because of how fair his skin is.

First, sexual assault and now you are finishing your fabulous Friday night off being this crazy prick’s new and improved sex doll.

Is this really going to be your final fate? Live a subpar existence scratching to get by, working meaningless jobs to pay the rent, then die because some crazy asshole across the alley from you decided to remove you from the world for his own sick satisfaction?

You would laugh at your ridiculously bad luck if you weren’t crying and if you could actually laugh.

He’s going to kill you. There’s no other way out of this.

“Just let me go,” you beg him. It comes out of you, but with hardly any sound though saying it makes his eyes dart back to yours anyway.

His face is one of those that you’ve seen that can express the most heart wrenching emotion if he lets it. Right now, it seems it’s more of failing to hide it than intentionally showing that he’s not as cold as he is pretending to be.

His prominent jaw line seems even more dramatic as you notice him clenching his teeth. It makes the dimple on his cheek stand out even more. He looks so sad, and that reaction is baffling because a moment before he looked like he felt nothing and didn’t even have the tiniest amount of remorse or humanity in him.

You swear you see his hand closest to you trembling.

That has to mean something.

You try to plead with him again, but hearing it, he steels his expression to nothingness again, he stands, preparing to walk away from you.

Christ! Even crazy vagrants on the street don’t have the gift to emotionally turn off and on as quickly as this guy can, and that’s no matter how long gone their minds are.

If you could just get through to him somehow, then maybe you’d have a chance, but how can you do that if he is mentally all over the place.

As he moves, you can see his entire body more clearly. He has straight shoulders, but he is hunching them forward in an odd way that doesn’t match his young age. His chin is angled down to the floor like he simply can’t stand looking at anything else.

His trim waist is defined even more by his tailored vest. He’s one of those guys who has that V-shaped torso that comes from having zero body fat. He’s all lean muscle and bone. Add the fitted black dress pants enhancing the slim look of him and you’d think he’s nobody to worry about, but you know already that he is not weak. Under this misleading appearance is hiding the very dangerous man that just took you.

Your eyes follow his every move as he travels over to the other side of the bed. Again, you swear you see the look of pure agony in his face as he lifts the mannequin and sets her down a few feet away over by the window on what has to be a stand because the thing is standing there dressed all pretty like she belongs in a 90's department store not this freak job’s apartment.

He goes ghostly still with one of his hands resting on the form of its narrow waist.

You hear him softly talking to it and it’s almost exactly the way you heard him speaking when you were coming to.

“Dolores, please… I love you,” he pleads. He is looking at the dummy like he is expecting it to answer him.

When you look to the window beyond him over there having this extremely bizarre moment with his plastic girlfriend, you see the flowers dangling from your own flower box blowing in the wind.

He was right across from you the whole time.

You look over again at the single chair pulled up at the small table next to the window. You can just imagine him sitting there in the dark, finishing off that bottle, watching you.

Being an opportunistic perv that gets turned on by peeping on others is one thing, but this guy was getting off by watching you get attacked and he was clearly also turned on by attacking you.

He’s a sexual sadist and while he rapes you, he is going to do his best to make you suffer even more!

Animalistic sounds of pure desperation erupt from your chest, and they get even louder when he abruptly turns away from his one-sided conversation with the mannequin and comes back towards the bed.

You see his expression change to something fierce and dangerous. His entire body seems to thrum like a bowstring drawn taut. You can almost feel the carefully restrained violence about to explode all over you.

His gaze is so intense that your whole body shudders and his voice comes out so achingly low that he sounds like a different person. “If you have already done the worst things a human could do, would it matter if you sealed it that the devil owns you?”

You do not like where this is going. You shake your head side to side, denying him. You refuse to draw the parallels he is trying to make in justifying what he’s going to do.

“I lost everything. There is no point in fighting anymore,” he whispers.

Even though you don’t want to give them to him, tears trickle down your cheeks again. Seeing them, the faintest trace of a sound comes from somewhere deep inside his chest.

There is something. Something inside all that coldness. He looks sad. You are the one tied to his bed, and he looks sad…

What?

After another minute of him seeming to consider something, he begins to hungrily study you, or at least it appears that way to you in that slow, languid way his eyes roamed over your body. When they hover over your chest, your breath hitches, and you think you hear his hitch too.

“Go fuck yourself, asshole!” you frantically cry, adding every curse word you know and even adding some new ones specially invented just for him. It comes out garbled, but you are sure he is getting the gist.

He reaches for the bottle of water on the nightstand, his eyes roll back in his head, and he almost falls down as he proceeds to pound it.

After stumbling and then tossing the empty bottle on the floor, he moves across the bed, crawling on hands and knees towards you. The mattress sags beneath his weight as he bends down on top of you.

His weight hovers over you, and your fingers curl into fists. Your arms pulled down but to no avail.

Reactively, when his hand comes towards your face, you pull back as much as you can. He stops for a second, dark brows furrowing like he doesn’t understand your reaction.

“Sweetheart, no, please. You know I'd never hurt you,” he slurs, then his long fingers gently run across your skin to wipe your tears away.

You shudder.

He still has that look. You know it even though you don’t know him. It’s the look of misery.

He brushes your tangled hair back and the frown on his face deepens. Those pale cheeks of his suddenly flush with…

Arousal? Shame? Murderous rage? You have no idea until you look between your bodies, and you see that his crotch region is definitely tenting in a way it wasn't a few minutes ago.

Very slowly, he traces the bruises your date left on your neck with a finger. The sensation makes you shiver in fear, and you see him shiver too. You are sure he’s about to lower himself on you but then he rolls off, staggers to the bathroom, and then slams the door behind him.

Entering his bathroom, Five’s body falls forward over the small counter. He clings to the edge holding himself steady, while hoping he will be able to think clearer now that he is away from the girl.

Five is completely overwhelmed with unimaginable levels of sorrow and gross intoxication, but the worst of it is the very demanding reaction his body is having over seeing the girl laying under him on his bed. As bad of shape as he is in, Five can’t even link together any coherent thoughts other than that when he looked at the girl, he was seeing Dolores.

“Dolores, no,” he breathlessly cries in pure unfiltered agony over the gut-wrenching loss he feels.

Wanting to stop the pain and unable to operate on anything but pure brainless need, rather than hurt the girl because he has completely lost his mind, Five desperately begins to hurt himself.

He lowers his head even more, panting out panicked gasps for air as one of his trembling hands starts to rub the front of his pants.

“Please. Fuck. Help me,” he moans, meaning much more than the words can convey as his other hand fumbles to get his zipper down.

Once he has himself free, Five is quick to start jerking himself with an intensity and cruelty that only makes his head spin even more than it already is.

“Nahhhh-nnnn-” His instant moans of pleasure are followed by the top of his head accidentally banging up against the oval mirror hanging above the sink.

Pumping his hips, Five rams the hand he is using to grope his tight balls, jamming it abusively right up against the edge of the counter. His angry touches feel so damn good despite the punishment that the combination only makes him moan even louder.

His knees bang over and over against the cabinet as he finds every way possible to inflict pain on himself while also giving in to that heady desire trying to consume him.

Five winces as his knuckles begin to split after making contact too many times with the hard surface, but he doesn’t stop doing it. He wants this sweet torture to drown out the rest of his unbearable suffering.

Hair falling in his eyes and his skin feeling like it’s on fire, Five’s other hand continues taking care of the rest of his shaft. His fingers are circled around the end of the hard length, and they are moving up and down so fast that when he peers down at himself, all he sees is a violent blur.

“Yessssssss!”

Mouth hanging open, Five’s come begins to spurt out of him. The near iridescence of his release is somewhere between a milky white and a purely clear watery fluid, allowing it to blend in almost seamlessly into the fake chalky colored marble of his chipped counter. With a dazed expression, Five’s body twitches repeatedly as he watches it drip down into the bowl of his sink.

As the waves of ecstasy all too quickly abandon him, Five’s bloodshot eyes turn up to the monster in the mirror.

All at once, his fist slams into the face staring back at him. The glass shatters, raining down sharp blades of Five’s reflection, scattering his hatred at his feet and all over the counter.

As if what just happened when he was suspending his body over you isn't appalling enough, the sounds coming from the bathroom are making you really lose your mind. You yank at your constraints hard enough to make your quickly abrading skin begin to bleed.

It's very clear what he is doing in there; you don't need to see him to know that he took your advice and is actively fucking himself. The only good thing about this is that he is not trying to fuck you and he is in there and you are out here.

When the sound of glass breaking and things hitting the floor abruptly comes after a another one of his guttural groans, you are pulling so hard on the headboard to break free that it's banging against the wall behind it.

Not more than a minute later, the bathroom door swings open and he's back at the side of the bed looking down at you with those empty eyes.

“I need you to be quiet a little longer." His words don't sound mad or even scary even though he just busted you trying to break free. He sounds very meek but that makes sense considering what he did in there.

You can't help your eyes from moving right from his to his fly, and sure enough, Mr. Psycho's Mr. Happy seems to be momentarily tamed.

Just when you are thinking you might be safe, he shifts himself over on the mattress where the mannequin was.

Just the act of laying down looks like it hurts him. His moist looking eyes open and shut like he can hardly hold them open as he lets out a very pained moan that makes him sound like a child that needs his mommy very badly.

You can see his hand is freshly bleeding but not bad. He doesn't even seem to notice.

“I am going to let you go. I just need to clear my head for a few minutes, and I am cutting you loose and leaving. This will all be over soon,” he hushes when the bed moves from you trying to wriggle away from him.

As he settles into the blankets and his eyes droop closed, his black vest pulls up as he stretches out and you immediately notice that he has some kind of knife tucked under his waistband.

After a minute or two of laying like that, eyes closed still, he rolls over and his arm flops down over your chest, his hand landing way to close to your neck again. You try to shake him off, but you have nowhere to go, and he remains as is.

This guy can say what he wants about letting you go, but him lying next to you, hand on your throat, with this fuck mannequin watching him resting up enough so that he can brutally rape you doesn’t have you feeling any less terrified.

The only reason you are not screaming anymore is because you don’t want to set him off now that he is this close.

Less than a minute later of you laying there thinking this is it, his chin slides down the arm he has folded under his head, and as it happens, the choppy looking fringe of his hair falls over his face.

Holy shit… You cannot believe it, but he just passed out.

His heavy breathing immediately starts to relax.

Whether he was lying or not when he said he wasn’t going to hurt you and that he was also going to let you go, you have no idea, but it doesn’t matter. Seeing your chance, your arms begin pulling again. You twist and torque your wrists, working the ropes.

The sound of loud vibration startles you and you go stark still, your eyes darting to the kitchen table as your heartrate flies through the roof.

You can’t be sure, because it’s so dark, but you think there is a cell phone lying there next to the gun. Just as you start to wriggle your wrists again, the phone vibrates again and at the same time, he lets out an annoyed sounding grumble. “Leave me alone, Klaus.”

Klaus?

The third time the phone buzzes, his upper leg moves over, locking down over one of yours.

You close your eyes, willing your mind to take you anywhere but here.

Stupid phone and fuck you Klaus person whoever you are.

“Don’t wake up the psycho, I am about to shiv his ass! ” your mind yells at the offending electronic device.

Not long later, the hand at your throat begins to move away, but as it retreats, your crazy cuddle buddy snuggles his body even closer to yours. This new intrusion on your personal space seems to make him happy enough at first, but then all of a sudden, he must decide that he is not warm enough. He reaches back and flips the bed spread over you both and in doing so, the cuff on his right arm pulls up and something catches your eye.

He has a tattoo on the underside of his wrist. It’s the silhouette of a black umbrella with a circle around it.

What the hell?

You’ve seen that symbol before. You were a little too young when the superhero kids that belonged to the infamous money mogul Sir Reginal Hargreeves were all the rage, but you have heard of them. They all supposedly disbanded when they came of age, and from what you remember hearing, one or two may have even died before that.

They all were born with different unimaginable powers and were often seen in public as children stepping in here or there during major emergencies to show off their extraordinary skills.

You’ve seen old posters with them, but none of their faces are coming back to you except the girl named Allison, and that is because she has been in the news over the years for different movies that she has been in.

They were all exactly the same age, and this guy looks like he could be ten years younger than her.

He can’t be one of them…

Can he?

Whether he’s one of them or not, just like with your date tonight, as soon as you get free, you are going to show this sorry sack that he may think he knows you and you are just going to lay here and let him treat you like his little play thing, but he got it all wrong.

He picked the wrong girl to fuck with.

If this loser was one of the Umbrella Academy kids, you haven’t seen any signs of his powers, which might be because you recall hearing that they all lost them at some point. If he is one of them, it appears he lost even more than that, and he is in luck because you are about to help him lose even more.

The rope painfully digs into your skin. You are so close. A few more twists and the ligaments holding your thumb together will slide, letting your bones pop out of place. Then you can grab his knife and it’s go time fucker.

Someone is getting a knife through the dick and it’s one hundred percent Mr. Umbrella Academy Tattoo!

The phone lets out another long buzzing sound then stops. He doesn’t say anything this time, but the disturbance must have disturbed him again because you feel his hand slowly start surveying your upper leg, his fingers gently tracing a line northward.

You begin to struggle. Your nasally whines of protest have him swiftly changing course, instead clamping that same hand at your waist. He pulls you closer as he presses his face against your neck.

“I am sorry, Dolores…” he whispers.

He is so close. Everything suddenly feels very hot.

His lips part then they start feather lightly, sweep along the coating of moisture he’s creating on your skin. When the heat of his pelvis moves tight against your hip, you are shocked that he isn’t hard again over violating you.

This guy doesn’t make any sense. You thought that was part of the whole thing he was into, but when he popped a woody from touching your face and neck, as soon as he noticed it was happening, he took off like he was scared shitless.

Maybe right now he is just not recovered enough from his last weirdo whack session or...

Is it possible that he really doesn't want to hurt you. Maybe he wasn’t planning on it when he reached out like he did in the parking lot?

Maybe you had it all wrong in thinking that he was enjoying watching you nearly getting raped. He had clearly been doing something by way of enjoying himself prior to sprinting out into the parking lot, but…

All of a sudden, it dawns on you that he actually looked very upset by what he saw happen. He sounded very upset by it. It was like he was so distressed by it that he ran down there planning to do something about it.

He looked like he wasn’t expecting you to be there. He actually seemed very confused by it.

Was he coming after your date?

At the moment, you didn’t see all that, but now…

Well…

What the fuck?

He is obviously very messed up, but maybe not in messed-up in the ‘I’m going to violently rape you and murder you’ kind of way.

He did abduct you, but he just said he was going to let you go. He said that he was going to leave.

For some bizarre reason, he seems to be very in love with his mannequin and you are almost certain that right now he thinks you are her. He is so delusional; he probably can’t even tell the difference.

Again, your feet dig down into his mattress as he nuzzles your neck and makes one of those super soft whimpering noises.

This does not feel like he’s trying to hurt you. It feels like he is trying to do something else entirely.

Something is not adding up other than he is most certainly off his rocker.

He said that he has done the worst things a human can do, and you have no idea what he meant by that, but when he could have raped you while you were out or even now, he didn’t. Besides tying you up, the things he was doing before taking off to take care of his boner problem were all in an effort to help you.

Add all this up and what he said about letting the devil own him, may not have been implying what you originally thought. The more you think about it, it seems like he could have been talking about killing himself, not giving in to raping and killing you.

You can’t see his entire face, but you can tell that his eyes are still pinched shut and it’s in such a way that looks so miserable.

You have no idea what is going on with the guy but it’s clear that something is very wrong with him, and it’s not just that he is mega wasted.

As your mind is putting all this together, he lets out a throaty sound that almost sounds like a sob before he begins placing soft kisses along your bruised neck while vibrating his next words across your skin. “Please don’t leave me.”

His hand at the narrowest part of your waist slips under you, tenderly massaging circles against your lower back. His warm fingers very subtly dig in as if he’s trying to comfort you.

You can’t help it when a similar sounding whine comes out of you as your heels dig in across the bedding again.

He is all over you and not in the hurtful kind of way.

This is not what you’d expect from a sexual sadist who gets their jollies off torturing people.

As he kisses just below your ear in that very sensitive space that makes your toes curl, he does so like he has done this maneuver about a million times, and he lets out the most contented sounding sigh when your body involuntarily shudders from it. This has got you starting to think that you may have read this crazy perv all wrong.

He’s a perv but maybe not the type you thought.

What he’s doing is so unbelievably tender and loving that it has you trembling from head to toe and incidentally not just from fear.

“Dolores, please forgive me.”

Again, he’s not talking to you, that much is very clear.

After saying that, he stops with the kisses, his body motionless as he clings to you like his life depends on it.

After a few minutes of nothing but the sound of his steady breathing, you know that he is fully out again.

To the feel of his chest rising and falling against your side, you start to work your wrists free again.

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

Thanks for reading.

(Chapter four, coming soon...)

If you are hungry for more, faster than I post it here, find this and my other Five stories at the first link below or visit my Blog to see all my Tumblr posts:

Master List Post to my Five Centric Stories and Art

KayBreezy | Archive of Our Own

kaybreezy-on-a03 on Tumblr

48 notes · View notes

lively-potter · 3 months

Text

— part one

SYNOPSIS ;

─ in which river henshaw,

charleston's very own

introverted and innocent

baker by night slash daycare worker

by day, runs away from jungkook

jeon and his adorable

daughter, moon, when all jungkook

wants is to ask her out on a date.

ACTS ;

act one ; incomplete

act two ; incomplete

act three ; incomplete

WARNINGS ;

mutual pining

he falls first

body insecurities mentioned

eating disorder mentioned

social anxiety

mature themes

mature language

violence ( not directed at MFC )

slight bdsm themes ( like bondage and shit )

angst ( should I make y'all suffer more in this one?)

when it's time for the smuttttt, i'll put warnings.

EXTRA INFO ;

jeon jungkook x river aldora henshaw

brett west x blackbourne team

sang sorenson x toma team

kayli winchester x blake coaltar

atlas korba x wil winchester

started ; January 1st, 2023

plot change ; January 17th, 2023

posted ( on Wattpad ) ; January 18th, 2023 at 2:50 pm

completed ;

edited/revised ;

SMALL A/N ;

also, my characters, Atlas Korba and Brett West ( from my book, Brett ) will have appearances!

I'M FREAKIN' SHAKING IN EXCITEMENT FOR THIS!

DISCLAIMER ;

2024 © @LivelyPotter

You may not reproduce,

distribute/and or adapt

any part of this work

without my permission

I only own my original characters and the plot.

PLAYLIST ;

Morally Grey ; April Jai

Fictional ; Khloe Rose

Suffer ; Sarah Jeffery

Cruel Summer ; Taylor Swift

Greedy ; Tate McRae

Haegeum ; Agust D

Like Crazy ; Jimin

Take Two ; BTS

Love me again ; V

Still with you ; Jungkook

My Time ; Jungkook

Somebody ; Jungkook

Standing Next To You ; Jungkook

She's all I wanna be ; Tate McRae

My You ; Jungkook

Butterfly ; BTS

Dimple ; BTS

3D ; Jungkook

Exes ; Tate McRae

Hurt my Feelings ; Tate McRae

Run for the Hills ; Tate McRae

Sweet but Psycho ; Ava Max

Dangerously ; Charlie Puth

Spring Day ; BTS

Bloodline ; Ariana Grande

Want that Too ; Tate McRae

Shot Glass Full of Tears ; Jungkook

Closer to you ; Jungkook

Yes or No ; Jungkook

Please don't Change ; Jungkook

NOTE ;

Hi, everyone!

I'm so excited to be able to start writing the first chapter and I hope that you look forward to it! Be sure to add this book to your reading list or reblog to know when I update!

MOST IMPORTANT NOTE ; ( to those not familiar with the academy series by C.L. Stone )

I know I'm gaining more readers, those who aren't familiar with the academy, so I'll do a short explanation of what you'll be seeing from the academy!

In short, the academy series is a reverse harem/polyamory series set in Charleston, South Carolina.

( so you'll be seeing multiple men date the same women in this book, so don't be shocked lmfaoo )

The academy ( that MFC won't be much involved in ) is basically a top secret organization that specializes in helping men, women, and children who are in an abusive relationship or homes and help them get out of that — most join the academy to help others in the same situations.

There are teams that work together and are basically a family in all but blood; and "family is a choice".

The men in teams are referred to as "dogs" and the female team members are referred to as "birds". 'Ghosts', whether birds or dogs, are children without much history to their names. They are priceless to the Academy.

The Academy's system works on a series of favor and financial debt. Everyone in the Academy starts out with financial debt. It's the value of the education an Academy student requires to become the best at what he does. If it was a private investigation training class or an eight-week boot camp, or you were starving and needed groceries to get through a human biology class, the Academy took care of it. Your debt can't just be paid off directly, it requires completing various Academy missions. Whatever it is, there is a price tag.

Favors though are the real core of the Academy. Favors are anything that doesn't have a price - usually family problems within the Academy that other members can't handle alone. New members owe ten favors immediately, with the maximum owed being thirty. The value of a task in favors varies depending on the task.

All Academy trials are comprised of the same parties: the whole team, plus five randomly selected members from other teams, presided over by a manager who has collected all the data. There is no age minimum for the randomly selected members, the only requirement is that they had to be past initiation and a full member of the Academy. The ultimate goal at a trial is to keep the family together as much as possible.

Each team has two leads. The first is the main contact for the Academy, they track the jobs the members go on, and let them know what jobs are available. The second is the family lead, who keeps track of all the team members, and makes sure that everything runs smoothly for them - ensuring they have food, bills are paid on time, and everyone that needs a job has one.

Most of this information is from the academy wiki site ( 'cause it's fuckin' complicated to explain it all )

but I want you all to be able to understand it enough to enjoy the story without being confused!

Most of the time, I'll explain through River and my other characters.

I hope this makes sense!

River won't be very involved in the academy, but there will be mentions and most of River's story revolves around, not only Jungkook and Moon, but River's brothers, friends, and family!

Please let me know if there is anything that you'll misunderstand and I'll explain to the best of my ability!

- LivelyPotter

#dilf jungkook #jeon jungkook #moonstruck #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #wattpad #jungkook x oc

30 notes · View notes

haggishlyhagging · 10 months

Text

By 1850 the husband-killing woman—the household fiend—was no longer a joke. She had become a social problem, and for every husband, potentially a personal one. The question was how to spot her in advance. By the end of the century the new "science" of criminology would confirm that sensual women were likely to be criminals, thus reassuring men—as these mid-century fictions did—that the murderer and the true woman (appearances notwithstanding) were completely different kinds of people. Even, some said, different species: fiends and angels.

The early feminists didn't think so. In a sophisticated attack on marriage, divorce, and property laws, they argued all along that the institution of marriage bound women in desperate circumstances. Even after the Civil War, when the more conservative American Woman Suffrage Association campaigned exclusively for the ballot, the radical Stanton-Anthony wing of the movement continued to attack marriage. In 1868 The Revolution, the official publication of their National Woman Suffrage Association, editorialized:

The ballot is not even half the loaf; it is only a crust—a crumb. The ballot touches only those interests, either of women or men, which take their root in political questions. But woman's chief discontent is not with her political, but with her social, and particularly her marital bondage. The solemn and profound question of marriage . . . is of more vital consequence to woman's welfare, reaches down to a deeper depth in woman's heart, and more thoroughly constitutes the core of the woman's movement, than any such superficial and fragmentary question as woman's suffrage.

Their analysis of marriage led the radicals to conclude that the very structure of the institution might make the people within it murderous.

The institution of marriage is either the greatest curse or the greatest blessing known to society. It brings two people into the closest of all possible relations; it puts them into the same house; it seats them at the same table; it thrusts them into the same sleeping apartment, in short, it forces upon them an intimate and constant companionship from which there is no escape. More than this, it makes any attempt at escape disreputable: the man or woman who seeks to loosen or break the tie which he or she finds intolerable, is frowned upon by society. The fracture of the galling chain must be made at the expense of the reputation of one or both of the parties bound together. There is no hope for two people shackled in the manacles of an unhappy marriage, but a release by death; and no wonder that each desires deliverance, and longs for the death of the other.

Yet what can be more horrible or more degrading to human nature than such a situation. Can anything be more demoralizing than this position of two people living under the same roof, forced into daily and almost hourly companionship, each of whom secretly desires the death of the other.

That the number of people who find marriage intolerable is not small, the annals of crime prove. Wife murders are so common that one can scarcely take up a newspaper without finding one or more instances of this worst of all sins; and none but God can know how many men and women are murderers at heart.

They predicted that as long as "men and women marry in the same old hap-hazard way, learning nothing from each other's experience" the result would be "what one might expect, confusion, misery and crime."

Conservatives counterattacked, turning the argument upside down and using it against all claims to any women's rights, including suffrage. Marriage, they said, was instituted by God, not man; and "woman was created to be a wife and a mother" and "to make home cheerful, bright, and happy." Therefore, any woman who tried to alter woman's sphere or to step out of it in any way—whether by voting or by poisoning her husband—must be "unnatural." A woman living "an independent existence, free to follow her own fancies and vague longings, her own ambition and natural love of power, without masculine direction or control, . . . is out of her element, and a social anomaly, sometimes a hideous monster, which men seldom are, excepting through a woman's influence." In short, it was woman as monster who threatened the institution of marriage and not the other way around.

This conservative argument, backed by the full force of religion and masculine "reason" and soon bolstered by the sciences of criminology and psychology, overwhelmed the tentative and sometimes inconsistent insights of the radical feminists. And when social anthropologists proclaimed the patriarchal nuclear family the most highly evolved and "civilized" form of social organization, feminists seem reactionary and barbaric indeed. So, by the end of the nineteenth century, almost everyone had been converted to the "domestic mythology", and even once-radical feminists campaigned for woman suffrage on the grounds that it would strengthen the American family.

-Ann Jones, Women Who Kill

#ann jones #amerika #american history #womens history #womens suffrage #female killers #love and marriage #patriarchy #nuclear family

78 notes · View notes

ameliafuckinjones · 3 months

Text

The thought of Amelia/Alfred declaring independence and then being immediately thrust into parenthood appeals to me. Imagine if you will shortly after the Revolution the emergence of State Personifications coming about with each admission to the Union (Delaware was the first one). Whether they appear miraculously or are birthed via (unwilling) parthenogenesis (which I prefer) the bottom line is that suddenly America has all these kids to take care of, all of who grow up just as fast as America did. Regardless of how they came to be or how fast they grow, America loves them with his/her whole being and creates a system in which they are always protected and accounted for by the larger government. America promises to be there for them the way England never was.

Then fast forward to the Civil War, and America is waging a bloody war against half of her/his children that see hundreds of thousands of their people dead. Brother against brother, father against son, cousin against cousin. And each secession feels like a small death because they are part of America just as much as America is a part of them, practically inseparable, or at least America thought so. To add even more complexity, not all of America's children were white or white-passing. America being neglected because s/he was to far away or denied certain rights for not being British enough was bad on its own, but imagine your parent not being able to claim you or fully protect you or give you basic human rights without public/social/political backlash because your skin is darker and you're legal property in half the country. Or imagine having powerful politicians who want to keep people who look like your children in bondage and you have to compromise with them to keep the Union whole, knowing the opinions they would have if they even knew you had children who were black (some of them do know and make sure their opinions are known). Or your other children starting a war to selfishly keep this system in place at the expense of their black siblings. The relationship between America and his/her children, with America acting as both the federal government that protects the states as well as the greater whole that represents the Union and the states as the children, each an extension of America, an integral part of America's being, pushing back against the sometimes overbearing hovering of their parent, impeding on states rights (whether they believe America is in the right or not) and protecting others and sometimes America will helplessly throw his/her hands in the air and say "fine, ill let YOU decide on this issue because I am not a dictator, despite what some of you like to think, but if you fuck up im stepping in" because America doesn't want to make the same mistakes England made in the past but then America has to deal with the negative consequences of her/his children's actions when they do something unbelievably stupid while trying not to seem like a fire-breathing tyrant. Which, they end up thinking anyway, regardless if America wasn't entirely in the wrong about butting in and taking hold of the situation before it escalated. The negative reaction only serves to make America step away AGAIN so as to not seem completely authoritarian in their eyes. It's a never-ending cycle. Not to mention the complex relationships the states have with each other, especially the southern states among themselves and the southern vs northern states rivalry.

Edit:

also whenever America takes his/her eyes off the states for 1mili second to see what the rest of the world is up to (hopefully not another world war) while usually being like 'back off, geeze! 🤬' America's children immediately switch to 'how come you're not paying attention to ME instead 🥺 you always focus on the world instead of ME 😢'

#i have a lot of thoughts about the states #hetalia #aph america #aph states #hetalia civil war #i can only imagine Thanksgiving at the Jones family estate 😭#also America having a family outside Arthur and Matt is really makes sense to me #why else would America be so absorbed with itself if not because of its over dramatic children known as the states???#not even England and Canada and the entire world can draw America's attention away from them #and if for a moment America steps away to bang a few heads together America immediately steps right back to hover over its children #like an overprotective mama eagle #and America totally doesn't have favorites!!! (its New York California Louisiana Florida the Man and Texas the Problem Child in that order)#the other states obviously know the main favs are NY CA FL and TX but they're always surprised when they realize its also Louisiana #and that's because Louisiana reminds America of France with its unique and charming American Franco hybrid culture #also as the years go by America begins to understand a few things about England a LOT more #still feels s/he does the parenting thing better (debatable but not entirely unfounded)

19 notes · View notes

callsign-phoenix · 2 years

Text

I wrote this for @mayhem24-7forever I hope you like it!

It is a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x female!reader imagine.

Thank you so much @hederasgarden and @green-socks for beta-reading (and helping me figure out the actual smut).

Warnings: this is a Jekyll/Hyde situation, Bob being extremely innocent but also kinky at the same time, bondage, dom!Bob, the tiniest bit of choking, unprotected sex?, this fic is racially inclusive despite the moodboard suggesting otherwise

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd was easily flustered, and you loved him for it.

Your husband of two years now was one of the most extraordinary people you knew, being somehow both a naval aviator and the gentlest man you knew, shy around you and his friends in any social situation but the opposite of shy in the bedroom, when the two of you were alone.

When you had first gotten to know him he had seemed too sweet to be true, bringing you flowers every day and taking you out on strategically planned dates.

The sex had been just as vanilla as the rest of him.

But after a few months you had felt a change go through him whenever you were in the bedroom.

He was still very much focused on making sure you were satisfied in any possible way but he slowly started to become more and more dominant.

Whereas he had started out gentle and hesitant, checking with you every step of the way he had begun to take charge more, his touch becoming rougher just like his tone, and you loved seeing it.

Maybe it was because he finally felt comfortable with you or because he knew you’d stay with him through everything, the security and slight sense of ownership compelling him to act that way in the security of your own home.

Despite all that behaviour during sex, as soon as you were sexually satisfied he was back to being sweet Bob, which occasionally made you jokingly ask if he recalled being rough with you at all or if it was a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation.

You received a flustered smirk from Bob but not much else and you definitely weren’t one to bring it up often.

You were just happy that he felt comfortable enough to act the way he felt the need to in the bedroom.

You and Bob were married before you knew it and you had an amazing group of friends, his fellow aviators included.

You loved going out with them and so did Bob, even if he was unlike the rest of them and didn’t drink, you always had a good time.

While Bob only played his possessiveness out in the bedroom, you had started to do so through touching him in public, simple gentle caresses of your hand on his back or on his chest.

It wasn’t anything explicit but Bob was always caught off guard when you started your display of affection – he liked the idea that you felt the need to show everyone that he belonged to you, and vice versa.

He never said anything, but you knew from experience that it turned him on that you showed everyone that you were taken and with him, due to Hangman and Rooster both being ladiesmen that amplified tenfold when they were also in the room.

You couldn’t understand how ambivalent he as an individual could be, but not a single person could have suspected what was going on in his mind, the way he smiled so sweetly and the flustered look seemingly only one of social awkwardness.

You liked teasing him that way, though, and you tried to make a sport of it, trying to find more ways to touch him as innocently as possible that had the opposite effect on him.

You were all engrossed in a conversation at the Hard Deck when you started playing another one of your teasing games, starting off by putting your hand on the arm that held his cup of water and drawing gentle light circles with the tips of your fingers.

Bob wore a t-shirt which allowed you to set your hand on naked skin, making the effect you had on him greater, even if no one else noticed.

Receiving a short glance from your husband you only smiled at him in response and stopped your assault after a few minutes.

You weren’t too invested in whatever Hangman was talking about and so your concentration fell elsewhere, setting your hand on Bob’s back and brushing it up and down in a contemplative manner.

Bob let out a soft chuckle as he glanced at you again and you smiled back at him, pretending not to know what was going on inside his head.

The topic of conversation must have shifted without you realising it because Bob moved to put his cup away before suddenly reaching for the hand you still kept on his back, pulling at it and tugging you in front of him so your back was pressed against his front.

Everyone else was smiling at you as Bob hugged you in a seemingly playful manner, his hands coming to rest on your own and immobilising you that way.

You didn’t struggle because there was no use: even though Bob didn’t show off his body like everyone else in the group, you knew that his strength overpowered yours, and so you only mirrored your friends’ smiles.

“What can I say, she’s the love of my life,” you heard Bob say behind you as he pulled you the slightest bit closer, his head lowering so that his lips rested just below your ear.

His breath was brushing against the spot he knew was the most sensitive for you and the fact that he had you immobilised also sent a shiver down your spine.

You were squirming against him before you even registered you were doing so.

“Are you tired, baby?” Bob asked you in a low voice that sounded to others like loving concern and you nodded breathlessly, not being able to answer because of the effect he had on you.

He was so good at making others think his actions were innocent but you trembled in anticipation knowing the truth, hoping that no one else would catch the way your hands shook.

“You heard the missus, got to get her home,” Bob smiled as everyone said their goodbyes.

He let go of your arms and set a fleeting kiss to your temple as you moved out of the Hard Deck, one of his hands catching yours in a tight grip, as if to make sure it didn’t wander off again.

The drive home was quiet but not unbearably so, even though not a word was spoken there was a serious yet somehow playful atmosphere of anticipation while Bob barely ever let go of your hand.

He also managed to open the front door with only one hand and tugged you towards the bedroom immediately, neither saying anything nor touching you properly except for his strong grip on your hand as he pulled you along.

When you reached the bedroom Bob finally touched you properly, pulling you against him in a swift tug and setting the hand that wasn’t holding yours to your jaw.

It was a possessive gesture but it was no less loving than anything else Bob did for and with you.

His eyes were stern but loving as he looked down at you, not yet kissing you but instead enjoying the anticipation he could see in your gaze.

Bringing his head impossibly closer to yours he began speaking, his lips brushing yours but not delivering enough friction to satisfy you.

“You know perfectly well that your behaviour today wasn’t acceptable, don’t you?” he asked you, his eyes gentle but strict as he looked into yours.

“Of course you do, clever girl,” he answered his own question and chuckled as he saw you swallowing at the nickname.

“Do I have to tie you up so you can’t touch me anymore? You know what that does to me, don’t you, and in front of my colleagues?!” he taunted you, his voice so gentle that the threatening undertone almost seemed like mockery.

You could only reach your hands out to grasp his waist to steady yourself, but Bob gently shook his head.

Where he had been so close to you before, he now pulled away to walk towards the bedside table, the lack of physical contact making you shiver.

You didn’t even have the time to turn around when you felt Bob’s hands come to rest on your shoulders from behind, their weight grounding you and wordlessly telling you to stay put.

Tantalisingly slowly you felt his hands make their way down your arms, only his thumb trailing down your skin until he reached your wrists.

You couldn’t see him but the way he purposely grabbed your wrists made your knees weak as you felt a sliver of silk run over your skin.

“Is this okay?” he asked as he brought his head to your ear again, his breath caressing your sensitive spot before he pressed a kiss to your temple when you nodded.

“Verbal consent, baby,” he added, and you replied with a yes.

It was enough for Bob as he leaned his head down to press kisses to the back of your neck while he tugged on the silk, wrapping it around your wrists and tightening it until they were secure.

“‘S this okay?” he asked you carefully, the drawl in his voice stronger because of his anticipation.

You verbally confirmed that it was and he turned you around to face him, your hands powerless while his were free to roam your body.

He chose to tease you further though because he didn’t touch you the way you wanted him to, setting his hands on your hips to walk you backwards until you were seated on the bed instead.

He was now significantly taller than you and he made that known by setting his hand possessively on your jaw, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin captive.

It was impressive and honestly overpowering to see how big Bob’s hand was as he changed the position it was in to use his thumb to caress your bottom lip.

Your first instinct was to open your lips and he took advantage of that shamelessly, pushing his thumb into your mouth slowly enough so you could have protested if you had wanted to.

His thumb found your tongue and he pressed further, having your tongue swirl around the thick digit as you tried your best to seem innocent as you looked up at him.

Bob let out an obscene groan as he saw you looking up at him, pushing his thumb so far into your mouth that you had to gag slightly.

His other hand shot out towards your neck as he held you there, not applying much pressure but the mere possibility of it was enough for the two of you.

When he pulled his thumb out of your mouth it was glistening in your spit, a string of it connecting it to your lips, but Bob didn’t care.

He leaned in to kiss you, his hand still at your throat while the other rather wet one caressed the side of your face.

When Bob pulled away from you his eyes were filled with love and a possessiveness that had a shiver run down your spine.

After stroking your cheek once more he motioned for you to get up, once again studying you more closely before his hand went to his fly, opening his belt and trousers and pulling them along with his boxers straight down his legs.

He sat down before making his way to the middle of the bed with a hand on his erection, expectantly looking up at you.

When you didn’t immediately react he just stared at you.

“Sit,” he said to you with the gentlest but most authoritative voice you had ever heard and you moved immediately, trying your best to gracefully climb onto the bed without being able to use your hands.

You straddled him before sinking down on him, the fact that he lay below you not diminishing the hold he had over you.

As soon as the backs of your thighs met his groin one of his hands reached to grab your wrists, holding onto the silk that so neatly kept your hands together.

You tried to find a rhythm for your movement and Bob was kind enough to match it, the hand on your wrists helping you to keep it as well.

Your thrusts became sloppy over time but you tried your best, your skin heating up and sweat dripping down your back.

When you really felt like you couldn’t go on anymore you felt Bob bucking up below you, his dominant hand reaching around your neck as he fucked you.

It didn’t take either of you long to reach your high, your head falling back as lewd sounds fell from your mouth, Bob sitting up to press his lips to the exposed skin on your throat as he followed suit.

Neither of you moved for a while as you caught your breath, your heart rate slowing and your sweat cooling on your skin.

Bob was the first to move as he pressed a kiss to your collarbone while his hands pulled the silk from your wrists, whispering gentle praises against your skin as he did so.

tagging: @mayhem24-7forever @hederasgarden @green-socks @peaches-1999 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @wildbornsiren

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#top gun imagine #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob x reader #top gun bob #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert floyd smut

456 notes · View notes

sevikasleftpussyflap · 2 years

Note

Sevika normally is possessive and easily jealous, as a yandere? Holy shit get ready to die

These are just some of the yandere hcs I have (ty @master-sass-blast for the help). If there's any you want me to expand upon/add, let me know, they're probably in the next batch! This starts as soft yandere sev and she becomes more of an asshole as it goes. Please be wary of the tags!!

Mutuals please look away, this is depravity in it's final form<3

Warnings: MDNI 18+ NSFW, Noncon/dubious consent (just in case, this section is marked, if you think this will trigger you please don't read!), gaslighting, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, toxic relationships (please don't let anyone treat you like this), manhandling, vaginal and anal sex, squirting, rimming, noncon bondage, brothel reader for the first part

Sevika doesn’t emotionally connect with a lot of people so when she finds someone who loves her and then starts to love them just as much, probably more, she’s not going to let them get away.

She probably cut off the idea of love or getting close to people at an early age. As she was growing up she witnessed families, maybe even her own, be torn apart by enforcers or just the rough life of the Undercity, instilling the belief in her young mind that it wasn’t worth it to have people to care about. The poor social framework of Zaun wouldn’t help provide a healthy example of relationships either. The enforcers wouldn’t care to intervene in domestic disputes, abuse within families was probably considered normal, and Sevika most likely wasn’t immune.

So as Sevika grows into a young revolutionary, any kind of connection is kept professional. If she needs a stress reliever, she goes to the brothel or snags a one night stand from the bar (while being very clear and very firm about the no-strings-attached situation). She’d never take anyone to her apartment either, lest they try to stay beyond their welcome.

Maybe it’s the lack of physical or emotional connection in her life that makes her fall for the loving touch of one of the brothel workers. Maybe you have a certain softness to you that draws her in like a magnet, so contradictory to her that it makes her wonder how you survived this long on your own. All of the other workers she’s had before you were head over heels for her, professional, of course, and quick to pick up on her likes and hard limits, but you were the only one that didn’t have a slight tinge of fear that remained whenever she was around. That constant wariness was a reminder of what the situation was, of who she was, which was someone who was unlovable. Too monstrous for someone to have a genuine attraction to her that wasn’t accompanied with the thrill of being with the notorious brute or her unavailability. You, however, bathed her like a lover, like you had just been waiting all day for her to come visit you after work. Sex with you felt more intimate than anything she’s ever felt before. No matter the pace or her mood, it never felt like a transaction. It was the first time she’s been able to pretend this was something other than what it was.

Which led to the intense possession she felt over you. Sevika may not be touch starved, she’s have plenty of hands on her body and her hands on plenty of bodies, but intimacy starved?

No one was brave enough to caress her hair so lovingly, or kind enough to massage her muscles with oil after a bath without her asking you to, or devoted enough to drop to your knees after she settles on the couch and rub her feet.

“You wearing those for me?” Sevika looked smug as she took in the lingerie. Maroon, the color closely resembling the one of her cape.

“You told me to, my lady.” You replied teasingly, digging your hands into her shoulders in a spot that was prone to kinks. She had told you that the last time she came, when she took it upon herself to go through your drawers while you were recovering from an intense round of mind blowing sex. You were too out of it to mark her strange behavior, just barely able to hear her pleased comment about one of your sets.

“Just Sevika, now. It was just a suggestion. You can do what you want.” She’d been trying to break you out of the habit of using honorifics ever since her feelings for you started to grow.

“And I want to please you.”

Suddenly your clients stop showing up. No one hears from them again, at least not at The Gardens, and no one requests you except Sevika. You’re getting increasingly worried about if you’re going to have a place to stay next week.

During one of Sevika’s visits you break down, spilling all of your worries and tears onto her shoulder. You figure her lack of surprise is because she must have noticed how off you’ve been during the last couple of visits. When she rubs your back and offers for you to stay at her place, you’re beyond touched and the blossoming crush on your end grows more.

…

Sevika could have started off as a normal girlfriend but she doesn’t get attached quickly and probably just thought you were a fling that wouldn’t last a week. You exceeded her expectations and now you had her twisted heart in your hands. Before, you were merely an accessory when you were out at the bar with her. Just someone she could mark up and use to keep her lap warm in between her turn at cards, decorating your neck in hickeys in an effort to satisfy the urge she has to claim someone as hers. If anyone messed with you, she’d fuck them up, leave them barely breathing but it was obvious she was trying to impress you with her strength. Now that she’s serious about you, though? She’s considerably more angry when someone stares at you too long. It’s not just showing off for you anymore, it’s something more, something possessive.

Sevika would eventually start restricting your freedom, slowly enough that you think she’s just being caring and protective. You fall for it and swoon as she asks you with sweet kisses to stay in the apartment until she gets off of work. That’s usually her excuse. Something’s going on at work and it’s dangerous for you, Silco’s second’s partner, to be without her. But it never ends, the threat is never taken care of and she gets pissy when you ask about it. She’ll appease you by taking you to the drop with her only if you promise to stay by her side, like she’d let you leave it.

If you try to suggest a new place you want to go, Sevika will frown and give you a sardonic “we’ll see.”

Your disappointment is visible in the way you deflate and she’s on top of you, giving you a kiss and telling you she has to make sure it’s safe first, has to know what kind of crowd hangs around that place, and who invited you there or told you about it. How do you know them? She has to meet them first.

She gets frustrated at your disappointment and lectures you about how you don’t understand, she’s more experienced than you and she knows what’s best.

Since you’re stuck in the apartment quite a lot, she does take pity and get you items of your request. It’s only when those items start interfering with your time together does she ‘forget’ them. For example, your romance novels. Your crush on the love interest makes her want to burn all of the books in the room. She’ll be silently seething as you cuddle to her chest, ignoring her and focusing all of your attention on words on a page. Once you run out, she tasks you with writing your own story of what you want her to do to you when she gets home. She will make you read it to her and she’ll oblige your wishes as long as you never think of anyone else ever again.

You’re engrossed in that book again. Those too clever eyes of yours flit across the pages, devouring the sickly sweet content at a rate faster than Sevika can keep up with.

She doesn’t make that much of an effort to stay on top of your book requests, in a way that’s completely purposeful. They take up too much of your time and as amusing as it was to watch your cheeks turn pink, knees curling in to subtly bring the book out of Sevika’s sight when you think she wasn’t paying attention, she began feeling neglected.

Anytime you tried to talk to her about your fictional crush she interrupted you with kisses, trailing them down your neck, chest, and stomach until you forgot their name. The plot of them never captured her interest and her face remained stoic while you tried to fill her in. It was all the same to her with little variation; a love story with a contrived plot, likely written by a piltie whose saccharine fantasies would never come into existence Topside let alone in the Undercity.

But, you loved them. And it kept you complacent and distracted when she offered them to you whilst softly ordering you to stay in the apartment for the next few days while she dealt with a fabricated threat.

“What’s happening now?” Sevika turned the book towards her with a finger on the upper corner, earning herself the annoyed glare she loved to see as long as she was the one putting it there.

“Are you asking because you care, or do you just want my attention?”

“Sugar, if I wanted your attention, my fingers would be somewhere else.” Like how she charged her way into your life, Sevika turned up the charm and had you in her lap within seconds, explaining your boring little book with a fixation she loved and wanted on her.

Sevika doesn’t tolerate anyone touching you but her. Anyone who flirts with you is getting the shit beat out of them in front of the bar. If they stare at you too long, she’s in their face and threatening them until she’s sure they won’t come back. If you were squeamish, she’d wait until you weren’t around to kill or maim them.

Sevika has a higher tolerance for you than she does for most people. However, if you keep pushing her after she gives you a warning she’s quick to put you in your place. She’ll take your face in her hand, make you look her in the eyes as she tells you it’s your last warning

In her mind, the only one who knows what’s best for you is her. She’s not going to let anything take you away from her, not even you. She wouldn’t be physically or outright verbally abusive but she wouldn’t be above manipulation and gaslighting.

When she’s on shimmer she’s far more aggressive. She wouldn’t hit you but manhandles, pushes you against the wall, and punches other objects. In her mind, it’s not abuse if it doesn’t physically harm you.

During one of your countless fights, you threaten to leave again and she crowds into your space, intimidating you with her size and telling you to repeat what you just said. Sevika will bully you with a mean tone, getting you upset until you cry and start apologizing and then she’ll lovebomb you. She’ll take you into her arms and hold you while you cry, telling you that you’re just tired and had a hard day (even though that’s impossible because she doesn’t let you do anything.)

“What did you say?” The backbone you grew suddenly disappears, abandoning you so that you’re left alone with your furious girlfriend.

“I don’t know, it was stupid, I was just-“

“Say it. Look me in the eyes and tell me what you said.” Her tone was harsher than you’ve ever heard it, at least when directed at you.

“M-Maybe we should take a break.”

Tears blurred your vision, the words about as shaky and unsure as you felt. Sevika takes in your shivering form and brings you to her chest where you start to cry, the affection you felt starved for now encompassing you.

“Baby, you’re upset. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

Sevika makes sure the idea of leaving her empties your mind by implying that no one’s stupid enough to help you leave (and in turn piss her off.) She will show just the right amount of vulnerability you’ve been begging her to show you, but then as soon as she gets what she wants it’s gone, proving that it was just for show.

Some of that vulnerability includes trauma dumping about her childhood, manipulating you by solemnly telling you she doesn’t have a lot of people in her life to love so she doesn’t know how to deal with it. The rare sight of her letting her guard down makes you think there’s hope for her, and you fall in the trap when she rests her head on your chest and lets you hold her all night.

NON-CON/DUBIOUS CONSENT

Let’s say the bloodshed and brute violence isn’t what bothers you. Sevika keeps you locked up more often than not, not letting you have any freedom unless she’s with you. She used to be okay with sending a group of her boys with you but after one had done some light flirting, she caved his skull in on the same counter top she used to make you dinner.

The apartment feels like a prison and you’re sick of it. You’re also smart enough to know you’d never get far if you tried to leave, so you approach the topic with her. You tell her that she’s suffocating you, that you expected more out of being in a relationship with her, that you’re bored. And she does not take that kindly.

“Bored? What’re we gonna do about that?”

No matter how hard you try to backtrack or apologize, the words are out and Sevika’s locked onto them like a dog with a bone. Your feet carry you backwards until you hit the wall yet Sevika still advances on you, slowly, like a predator. She doesn’t say anything else, just watches you stutter and shake and plead, anxious eyes staring up into her unreadable ones. She’s staring down her nose at you, a look you’ve seen her give others before very bad things happened to them and you’re so aware of her immense presence as she cages you in. Your words fail you as she caresses your face almost absentmindedly.

“Keep going. I like how you try and talk your way out of it.” She huffs a mean snort, so similar, yet vastly different to the one you just heard this morning when you told her a silly joke in bed. “Like that’ll change a damn thing that’s about to happen to you.”

You’re dragged to the bedroom and kept there for an insanely long time. Sevika works you open with her fingers first to wring several orgasms out of you. She switches between that and fucking you with her tongue, holding your hips down as you struggle, wickedly working that muscle until tears roll down your cheeks. You can never guess what she’s going to do next, evident by your gasp while she fingers you and moves her head down to tongue at your other hole, the feeling so wet and strange you’re not sure if you like it.

“Just changing things up. Don’t want to be too predictable for you.”

She’s still bitter over your words and fingers you harshly during her passive aggressive ones. The strap eventually comes out and she uses it until you’re nearly incoherent. The only break you have is when she goes to the other side of the room to pick a new toy to use on you, a plethera of tools you’ve never seen before that look downright torturous.

“I was saving them. I thought they might be a bit much for you so soon but hey, turns out I was just coddling you. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll keep it interesting from now on, promise.”

That night you discover Sevika is far more twisted than you thought. She likes you bound, spread open at her mercy in humiliating, painful positions. The bed is wet with your cum and lube from where she worked a butt plug into you, working you up enough to where she could use one of her smaller straps and claim you there.

After countless rounds, you eventually pass out from exhaustion. You could’ve slept a whole day. Sevika, though, is worked up from finally playing out her fantasies with you, those that she suppressed because she didn’t want to scare you or move too fast. So she wakes you up far too early to lovingly put you in the next position, shushing your protests with,

“No, no baby. I can’t let you get bored.”

Sex with Sevika is addicting. It’s how she ensnares you and makes you forget about your arguments or wanting to leave. She fucks you until you’re brainless, until the bed is sopping wet beneath the two of you. And if you squirt, Sevika’s going to get addicted to it and want to see it again and again.

“Sev- please-“ She rams into that spot again, hard silicone pushing that spongy button until a certain feeling hits you and you pause. “Sev I have to- I have to-“

“You gonna cum for me?” She pauses at your head shake. A hand grasps your chin to pull your head back to look at her leaning over you, normally cold eyes tinged with worry.

“I- I feel like I have to pee.” Your face heats but you manage to meet her eyes pleadingly. Your heart lurches at the widening smirk and you gasp as those hard thrusts begin again.

“You don’t. It’s okay,” Sevika cuts off your protests.

“Stop, Sevika please. Oh god-“

“God? Am I your god, baby?”

You sob into the pillow, face on fire from the humiliating sounds and wetness squirting from between your thighs.

“Please Sevika-”

“What does your pretty little pussy have to say about it?” Sevika slows her thrusts, emphasizing the noisy, slick strap. Her lips press against your cheek when you give an embarrassed whine, leaning back to croon in your ear, “Sounds like she’s asking for more.”

#arcane sevika x reader #sevika x reader #sevika imagine

288 notes · View notes

hanmi-xo · 7 months

Text

Beg Me | (Svt Dino x OC)

S M U T | M A I N | O N E S H O T S | S C E N A R I O S

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

Status: Complete Word Count: 7.2k Pairing: dinoxoc (fem!) Genre: Romance, Angst, Contract Marriage, Smut, One Shot Themes: dom/fem, sub/dino, BDSM, switch, rough, begging, mind break, overstimulation, cumming (lots), contract marriage, handjob, dry humping, licking, whipping, cuffs

Summary: Chan doesn't know what he's getting himself into after messing with the woman he's grown attracted to. She agrees to their contract marriage for the sake of her social reputation, but because of his antics, she refuses to let him go unnerved. There are things bothering her, and if restraining him is the key, then so be it. -

Note: This is a work of fanfiction. Please respect the real Lee Chan from Seventeen.

I sat on him while he struggled to get out of the cuffs. He looked adorable trying to escape. The way he groaned and cursed at me- I couldn't help but find this whole thing amusing.

Lee Chan.

The man that always taunted and teased me is the same man that wanted this fake relationship. I agreed so I wouldn't have to deal with the harassment of others (especially from my parents). He agreed because he was tired of women trying to get in his pants.

The contract was simple.

Don't intrude each other's personal life and don't fall in love. It'll only last a year. But it's only been 2 months since we got married and I wanted him to feel my wrath.

I was getting tired of him sexually harassing me at work behind everyone's back, and I hated how he would try to arouse me just to piss me off.

For a man that's horny, I wanted to show him true pain and pleasure.

"Jina! What the fuck!" He yelled as he continued to yank his wrist as if he'd get loose.

I used my forefinger to trace my nail upon his skin. I watched him freeze with gritted teeth. I can see him body twitch as my finger went from his abdominal before making circles on his abs. I slowly made my way up to his chest before wrapping my hand around his neck. His skin was soft and his muscles were tense.

He let out a gasp from the sensation I gave him before the pressure of my fingertips around his neck surprised him. He yelped.

"I swear Jina. When I get out of this, I will fuck you up!" He cursed at me.

I snickered at his words. "Fuck me up? How?"

I leaned onto him so my covered breast could be pressed against his chest. I heard him gasp from my weight before I whispered in his ear.

"You're a pathetic cuffed man with only his briefs on. You can't even see me, dumbass." My warm breath hit him and I can see his ear turn red.

He was blind folded so he couldn't see shit. He looked so vulnerable with the way he presented himself- or rather, how I set him up.

He was spread out like a sheet with his eyes blindfolded. His wrists were cuffed to each corner of the bed frame and his legs were tied down to the other end. He was sleeping when I did this. He's such a heavy sleeper it was funny when he woke up after I already put him in bondage.

He was so confused at first until he heard my voice, and now, he's pretending he's okay when he clearly isn't.

He was getting aroused by me like a fool, but I couldn't tell of it was from my voice or was it because of the situation I put him in?

I couldn't tell.

Whatever it was, he was making this too easy.

I grinded my hips against his pelvis. I can feel the sensation of his covered shaft under my folds. His cock slowly grew the more I moved. Soon, I heard Chan let out a deep groan.

I sat up and placed my hands on his chest and continued the motion of my hips. I watched him try to conceal his moans. He bit his lips before bending his head back from pleasure. His hips slowly followed my motion and I can feel his bulge press against my womanhood.

"Fuck..." he whispered.

I grinned with mischief. "You sound quite happy."

I can feel his body grow tense as he tried to stop himself from rubbing against me, but it didn't stop me from grinding.

"Jina you are such a whore. You know that?" He said through gritted teeth.

His voice sounded annoyed but there was a hint of sensation. His voice was deeper than usual as if he was holding back a moan.

"Really?" I raise a brow with a smirk.

His words didn't faze me.

"Tell me, Chan." I brought myself over him again with my lips close to his. I rested my elbows to the sides of his head so he can feel my warmth against him.

I wanted him to feel my body close to his but not enough for me to hug him. I wanted him to know I was there- know that I want him to feel me but not be able to hold me.

"What," he snaps at me but it was almost a whisper.

His hot breath tingled my lips.

"Do you want to get out of those cuffs?" I ask him with low eyes.

He couldn't see me yet it felt like he knew my expression.

His jaw clenched before he could respond to me. "No shit. Now let me go!"

I laughed at his anger.

"Why the fuck are you laughing!?" He yells.

I liked how frustrated he was how. How pathetic he looked. I couldn't help but rub my nose against his. I felt his budge twitch under me before I let the tip of my lips tickle his mouth.

"All you have to do is moan my name and beg me to release you. Don't demand it. Instead, cry for it, " I whisper while I continued to tease him. "It's not that hard, Chan."

His body got tense again. "You must be fucking insane if you think I'd do that."

I smiled. "Alright then. Don't. I'll leave you like this and milk you dry."

Before he can respond, I pressed my lips against his causing him to gasp in my mouth. I let my tongue control his insides while I continued to dry hump him. I can hear him moan while my hands pulled his hair.

My tongue danced with his as he tried to breathe. The sound of our lips being pressed together was loud and the way he panted was hot.

I pulled back as he gasped for air.

"You... fucking... whore..." he said through pants.

I grinned. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you? I'm having too much fun."

"Fun!?" He yelled as if I sounded insane.

I laughed as I grinded against him faster. The bed began to creak with each thrust I did and I could feel him try his best to hold still. He was fighting for his life. For the sake of his pride.

It was hilarious.

He started to curse under his breath but he tried to hid it. It was like he wanted me but he also didn't. He was indecisive and it made this game a lot more fun.

I liked how hard his dick was under me. I wanted him to feel pleasure from my womanhood through our garments. The way he squirmed and tried to fight against me was fun to watch.

"Ugh, Chan. Your cock feels so good," I teasingly said faking a moan.

I heard a groan escape his lips with the sound of his wrist pulling against the cuffs.

"Fuck!" He yelled.

His body bent towards me as though he wanted a better angle. He was giving in. But I wasn't going to let him enjoy this moment.

I pushed him back down to the bed. There was no way I would let him get an ounce of freedom from me.

I stopped moving and I felt him move his hips against mine. He was getting desperate.

"What's this? The great Lee Chan is getting pleasure from me?" I say with amusement.

I can see his brows narrow by denting the blindfold. "I'm a fucking man, Jina! I have needs!"

"Needs?" I say with scoff. "Did you think I'll give that to you if you so demand it?"

I got off him and I could see the frustration show throughout his body. He moved as if he was looking for me but since his eyes were covered he moved his head trying to sense my direction.

I stood on the bed while I watched his body ache as if he was going through withdrawal.

"Jina!?" He called out for me. "Where the fuck did you go!?"

I crossed my arms as I gazed at this man. He looked so pathetic it was like he was putting on a show. I couldn't help but watch him as if he was some form of entertainment.

"What's wrong? Do you miss me?" I mutter. "I haven't even left yet you're calling for me."

I watched him whip his head toward my direction once I spoke. He spoke to me through gritted teeth again.

"Let me go!" He yanked his wrists with the shake of his cuffs.

"No," I reply before getting off the bed.

There was something I wanted to use on him. Guys like him deserve some discipline.

"Jina!?" He called out to me once again as he tried fo figure out where I was.

I took the item out from its bag before eyeing the man that laid spread on the bed.

"What the fuck are you getting? Those better be the keys!" He yelled.

I walked towards him and held the item's handle tightly before whipping the man on his legs. I watched him wince in pain. I was getting tired of him telling me what to do.

"What the fuck!? Did you just whip me!?" He yelled.

I narrowed my brows at him. "Yell at me again and see what happens."

"Is that a threat?" He dare questions me. I can see his body tense.

I stood upon the bed once again and stared down at him. "You forget, you're the one tied up."

I whipped him on his chest and a yelp escaped his lips.

"Say some stupid shit again. I dare you to," I threaten him.

His jaw clenched and he grew quiet. I smirked.

"That's what I thought." I sit on his cock again that was still erected.

He yelped from my sudden weight but he didn't say anything. He gnashed his teeth at me while I went back into the motion of grinding against him. I watched him throw his head back from the pleasure I was giving him. I looked down at his chest and saw his skin get red from the whip. I began to feel some sort of pity towards him.

Did I perhaps take it too far?

I tossed the whip to the side and brought my mouth down to his wound. I began to lick it as though it'd heal. I felt his body twitch and his breathing pitched. My lips left butterfly kisses on his skin in hopes it would make him feel better.

His skin was soft and I couldn't help but lick him like he was some kind of dessert. I wanted to taste him and feel his texture on my tongue.

I don't know if it was my imagination but he tasted sweet with a hint of salt.

I can hear him moan as I licked his whole body. I brought my hands up and laid it on his abdominal. I was slowly bringing my mouth up to his neck, and the more I kissed and licked his skin the louder he got with his breathing and his moans.

I reached his neck and I began to make out with it. Why did he taste so good? Why did he feel so good against me?

I heard him sigh with bliss before releasing a loud moan once I bit him.

"Your skin is so soft, Chan," I whisper in his ear before nibbling it.

I heard his wrists move with the sound of the cuffs.

"Jina..." he said with a mixture of pleasure and anger. He said my name so slow, it was like he was trying not to scream.

My hands found their way to his briefs and I began to fondle his skin hidden under the clothing. I went back to making out with his neck and moans of pleasure spilled out of him.

I wrapped my hands around his cock and slowly pumped him. I can feel him slowly trust against my grasp.

"Fuck..." he whispered before groaning. "Damn it."

I continued to pump him with my hand before pulling my lips away from him. I kissed him on the cheek and he turned towards my direction.

His lips were close to mine and I smirked.

"Don't forget what I told you, Chan." I say. "Moan my name and beg me to release you. Otherwise I'm milking you dry."

He didn't say anything. Rather, he couldn't. My hands continued to pump him while I spoke and it was like he was stuck in between responding towards me or focusing on my hands.

He opened his mouth but no words came out. He tried to speak but a grunt came out of him instead.

I made my way down to his crotch. I left kisses on his skin and he would flex his abs from my touch. The more I messed with him, the more he struggled within my grasp.

"Jina..." he held back a moan.

I stared at his shaft that was peeking out. He was big alright. He was going to be a challenge, and I was willing to take it.

I ripped his briefs with my hands and a tear could be heard throughout the bedroom. Chan groaned. The cold air hit his dick and it twitched up and down as if it were looking for me.

I opened my mouth and held his base with my hands before licking his tip. He winced and I felt his body tense in my hold. There was precum and I licked it off and in response he twitched.

"Oh fuck," he moaned.

I licked his dick like it was a lollipop and made sure each side got tasted. I can hear his breathing get heavy as he growled at me.

I smirked and rubbed his length with my thumb. He pulled his head back. I had full control over him.

"Damn it, Jina," he said in between a groan.

"Keep saying my name," I tell him. "I like hearing it come out of your lips."

His breathing pitched. I chuckled. Was he getting excited from my words?

"Damn, Chan. Your dick- will it even fit my mouth? Should I even try?" I edge him with my breath on his tip.

He pulled his head back again before lifting it up so he can face me.

"For fuck's sakes just put it in!" He yelled with desperation.

I laughed at him.

"In? In where?" I teased.

He let out a groan of frustration.

"I don't fucking know!? Maybe your mouth!? Maybe in your fucking cunt!?" He screamed. "Somewhere inside you!"

He was going insane and I was living for it.

"My mouth?" I say before letting the edge of my lips press against his tip like it was a microphone.

"Yes!" He begged. "Just fucking put it-"

He let out a loud moan with a follow of the cuffs shaking.

I put his length inside. I wanted to see his reaction if I did it while he was mid sentence. And it was like an animal in heat.

"Oh fuck!" He let out a loud moan as I began to go down on him.

His dick pulsed in my mouth with every movement I did with the bottom of his length rubbing against my tongue and sucked cheeks.

"Jina!" He yelled my name before letting out another moan.

I heard the cuffs shake as he thrusted into me. I moved my head up and down as he followed my pace. I stroked his base that couldn't fit in the rest of my mouth every time I bobbed my head.

Chan was losing it. And when I say losing it, he wouldn't stop moaning. There was drool coming out of his mouth and the more he thrusted the louder he got.

I can hear the bed creak as he tried to deepen his length so it can reach the back of my throat. I gagged once I was able to put all of it in.

He was screaming in pleasure as I deep throated him.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck! OH FUCK!" He kept yelling.

His voice was mixed with the sound of the cuffs along with the creaking of the bed. The bed frame kept slamming against the wall with a steady pace as if a beast was banging against the cage.

His thrust became rough and I could tell he was close to cumming. I quickened my pace and the sounds he was making was like a virgin's first time having sex.

It was hot and undignified. It brought me great joy.

I felt his dick twitch and pulse more. He was cumming. And I was ready for his load.

"UGH," he moaned with his body shaking.

His liquids spilled into my mouth and I drank it like water. I didn't stop bobbing my head though. I didn't stop pleasuring him.

He let out incoherent words as he was getting over stimulated. He couldn't even speak correctly. His mind was breaking, and I watched with happiness.

"Jina. Jina! JINA!" He kept yelling my name. "OH FUCK. OH FUCK. OH FUCK!"

I popped his dick out of my mouth and continued to stroke him with my hand. He shook and twitched like he was malfunctioning.

Cum spilled everywhere. He wouldn't stop squirting. His body bent back with every release. He was letting out unending moans. I watched as his body went crazy before deciding in letting him go. He fell back into the bed with heavy breathing as he shook from ecstasy.

I crawled my way back up to his lap and reached the blindfold that covered his almond eyes. I pulled it above so it rested on his fore head. He looked at me with an expression that had so much emotion. He was angry, annoyed, exhausted, and had a hint of desire after I messed him up.

"Are you...fucking... done?" He said through pants.

His dick was getting smaller after releasing so much cum that I decided to torment him until it would come back up. I grabbed some baby wipes off the nightstand while he cursed at me. I was too busy cleaning up his mess to even respond to him.

"Yah, Jina. Your antics didn't work. Just let me go," he says after regaining his breathing.

His voice sounded a bit drowsy. He was getting tired, but I refuse to let him sleep.

I used the wipes to clean his dick and he winced the moment I touched it. Now that he could see me, it was like the atmosphere changed. He growled at me from my sudden action.

"Stop playing with my dick. Didn't you have enough fun?" He said annoyed.

My eyes went up to meet his. "No. I'm not satisfied."

He scoffed at me with narrow brows. "What are you going to do now? Ride me?"

I couldn't help but smile at his question. His eyes widened. He knew what was going to happen. His lips curled up with a smirk as though he wasn't trying to let me get into his head.

"Do you like my dick that much?" He dare says with his oh so charming smiling.

I smiled back at him with the same energy.

"What if I do?" I dare tell him.

He looked a bit surprised by my words but before he could speak, I began to take off my baggy shirt. I made sure he had a good view of me. My black laced bra hugged me tightly allowing my figure to show with my cleavage on full display.

Chan suddenly got quiet as if he was in a trance. I tossed the shirt behind me and placed my hands on his chest while I straddled him. I watched his eyes wander across my body. He was eye fucking me and I saw his wrists move. He seemed to want to hold me but he couldn't.

I grinned at him with low eyes. I brought my hand up towards his face as I caressed it.

I was going to make this man feel heaven and hell.

He melted from my touch but the moment I tugged the blindfold into his mouth, I watched his expression turn from anticipation to complete anger.

He tried to scream at me but all I could hear was the muffling of his voice. I wanted to tease him. I wanted to show him what was coming but he had no right to touch.

I rubbed against his shaft and gazed at him, never loosing eye contact. Chan wanted to speak so bad, but all he made was incoherent sounds as I pleasured myself against him.

His dick was slowly getting hard again, but he was struggling getting back up. With what happened earlier, it would be awhile until Chan can get that same drive again. I wanted him to get thirsty for me. Let him strive to be erected so he can be inside me.

I held my covered boobs up before massaging them in front of him. He squirmed under me as I continued to feel myself. His brows narrowed with following of his wrist yanking the cuffs.

His muffled yells echoed in this room. I took off my bra so my boobs can be on display. He gazed at them so intensely it was like his eyes could burn right through them.

I stood up and began to take off my shorts and underwear. I stared down at this man before stepping on his chest. He yelped from the pressure I put against him. My eyes left his orbs before looking down at his manhood that hasn't gotten fully erected yet, but it was fighting to stand again.

My eyes hung low at this man who seemed so pathetic and pitiful under me. He continued to squirm while I stepped on his chest.

"Hey," I call out to him.

He couldn't say anything with the blindfold in his mouth so instead he let out an annoyed muffle.

"Lee Chan," I call his name. "The man who is trying so hard to fuck me over."

He looked pissed off. I hated how he was still entitled even after I restrained him. His ego of his has to go. Atleast, with me that he had to let it go.

"You look good under me," I mutter before moving my foot off his chest.

He kept staring at me before allowing my naked folds onto his crotch. He winced before staring down at where our body could connect.

"Chan..." I call for him again.

I slowly crawled over him so my breasts can lay on his chest. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He was trying to fight against it. Fight against the urge of wanting me.

I brought my face in front of his and gazed at the man who wouldn't give up. Even if he was annoying me with his stubbornness, it was charming seeing how he tried to have some sense of self control.

I caressed his cheeks that were covered by the cloth. His eyes opened and it met mine. I smiled at him.

He's working hard you know?

"I applaud you for trying your best," I whisper to him.

I wanted to reward him. He was trying his best dealing with me.

His eyes grew big from my words. It was like he was trying to see if I was fucking with him, but I wasn't. I played with his hair while I admired his features.

"You're handsome, Chan," I mutter. "Even more handsome close up."

I can feel his dick slowly bulge up. His chest moved slowly with his heavy breath. He pushed against my breast as if he wanted to be close to me as possible.

He was always weak with compliments. His ego was bigger than you can imagine.

"Chan... Lee Chan," I repeat his name again. "Oh how I love saying your name."

His eyes looked like they were on fire but the anger he once had cooled down. He wanted me. He wanted everything in his power to fuck me right here.

Those eyes. They screamed at me to release him. The way his hips rolled against mine said everything I needed to know.

I moved the blind fold from his mouth and Chan didn't say anything. There was slight drool from how tight the cloth was and I pulled it off him. I tossed the small fabric elsewhere before caressing my thumb across his lips.

He let out a sigh of bliss from my touch. His eyes stared at me half hooded. He leaned his face towards me in hopes I could kiss him.

"Chan," I say his name again.

He hummed in response with his eyes focused on my lips. I smiled. He seemed so eager.

"Do you want me?" I ask him before rubbing my nose against his nose once again.

I heard him take a deep breath. It was like he wanted to answer me, but he knew he shouldn't. I closed my eyes before placed my forehead against his.

Our lips were close, but not enough for us to kiss. His warmth against mine made my skin feel on fire.

"Well..." I mutter from his refusal to respond.

My eyes opened to see him. He looked aroused and ready to pounce me. He was stunning with the way his lips parted while he gazed at me.

"I want you," I admit.

I couldn't deny my feelings towards him and how sexually attractive he is.

I felt him push his pelvic against me and I immediately pulled him in for a kiss. I moaned as our body pushed against each other. Our lips molded against one another's and we both groaned the more we touched.

"Jina..." he moaned while he kissed me. "Shit..."

Our tongues battled for dominance before I decided to pull away. He looked at me with so much longing. It was clear he was craving more of me.

"Release me," he says.

His voice almost came out as a whisper. It was deep yet somehow soft. It was alluring really.

But not alluring enough.

It's funny how he thinks I'd let him go so easily just because he's about to get some action. I straddled him with my hands fondling his face.

"Don't ruin the moment," I say with low eyes.

He scoffed at me but his eyes remained hooded. He had no sense to argue with me. It was like he finally came to even ground.

I felt myself grow wet under his hard shaft. The way he rubbed against me with my bare womanhood started to kick in. I dragged my hands down to his cock that became fully erected again. He winced at me once I rubbed it with my hand.

I leaned towards him so I can whisper in his ear. There was something I wanted to tell him.

"Beg me to release you and call for my name," I tell him again.

I didn't forget what I told him in the beginning, but there was a reason behind my words. It wasn't just because I wanted to see him suffer, but it's because of something else.

I pulled back to see his once again annoyed face. Before he could speak I rubbed my nose against him once more. He hesitated to speak and in return I spoke again. His eyes burned into mine.

I wanted to confess some things since I knew there wouldn't be a better time than now. I wanted him to know that this marriage contract has become much more to me.

"Chan, don't do it because I ask you to. But do it if you love me," I tell him.

I've been wanting to know if this whole marriage contract was just to toy with me, but the more he struggled underneath, it was like there was something more to it. Even when he bothers me at work he treats me different from everyone else.

I didn't get it. Maybe I seemed like an easy target to him.

We never spoke about our feelings since this was all business for our own sake of dealing with society, but here I was questioning this whole thing.

Were we really going to break things off after a year?

Was I just someone he found entertaining to bother?

What was I to him?

He's laid with many women before but he's grown tired of them. I knew I was supposed to be his easy way out and I wouldn't think much of it, but it was hard to ignore this whole thing when he kept showing hints of interests only to push me away.

I wanted to know how he felt, but I was also angry at him. Restraining him was the only way to discipline him because of the way he treats me, but also so he can't run away. Tonight was the most daring I've ever been.

And tonight might be the last time I'll ever be close to him like this.

Chan stared at me with narrow brows but he wasn't angry. He looked surprised but also had a sense of yearning. He wanted to speak but he also hesitated to do so.

I didn't understand him. But I really wanted to.

I held his face in my hands with low brows. I couldn't look at him for what I was about to say.

"Even if you don't, I'll let you go," I whisper.

I can feel his body stop moving under me. It was like I said something he didn't want. I can feel his eyes on me, but I couldn't look at him.

"This contract..." I whisper. "I'll go back to being that quiet wife of yours until next year comes."

His body remained under me with no motion. I sighed feeling pathetic. My eyes went up to meet his. He looked at me with such a look that I didn't recognize before.

What was it? Sorrow? Frustration? Wanting?

I slowly kissed him on his forehead. His temple felt warm on my lips. This was the only way I could express myself towards him. Even though there was silence between us, it felt like a loud banging to my chest.

Who knew I would end up liking this jackass of a man?

This was never intended to happen, but these months being together- there's so much that bothered me.

This was going to be the only night he saw how I felt, and the last night I'll ever do this to him.

My eyes gazed at him one more time before pressing my lips against his. There was a pause between us and I pulled away before he could respond.

His eyes remained on me as if he had so much to say but he also didn't. I smiled to hide my sorrow. I don't know what to expect out of him. He's Lee Chan, the man that sees women as whores and gold diggers. People that only care about sex and money.

I was told from my coworkers that he had his heart broken before and it changed his outlook on women overall. Was I seen as under the same category as them? He chose me to be his fake wife so I had to be seen differently right?

"Sorry Chan," I mutter before burying my face into his neck. "I won't look at you until this is over."

The thought of him pulling away scared me so I held onto him.

I brought his length into me and the moment his tip touched my insides, I let out a soft moan into his ear. I put more of him inside me and I felt him twitch. My breathing grew heavy as I rocked my body against his. I felt him slowly move under me but it wasn't the same energy as he had before.

He was slow and careful. It was almost like he wanted more of me but he also didn't. I closed my eyes to calm my nerves.

"Jina," he suddenly says.

I kept rocking against him, avoiding his call towards me. I wanted to feel him inside me before this ends between us. I can hear him try to control his breathing.

"Jina," he called out to me again.

I narrowed my brows. I couldn't ride him in these conditions.

"Jina, please," his voice became soft.

I froze. I never heard him with that tone before. I brought my head up to see him.

The way he was looking at me- I didn't know what to say. He looked upset and hurt as if I did something wrong. I stopped moving myself under him. He remained inside me as he spoke.

"Do you love me?"

His voice came out stern yet gentle. His question took me off guard but I didn't avoid it. I moved his bangs away from his eyes before caressing his face.

My brows narrowed as I tried to find the words.

"If I didn't love you, then I wouldn't put you through this," I answer him. "This is the closest I've ever been with you."

His eyes grew big. Was he surprised by my words? I couldn't tell if he was happy or if he was upset.

"Jina, release me. Please," he tells me.

His voice didn't sound happy but it didn't sound angry either. I couldn't tell how he felt. My brows went low.

So this is how it's going to end? I felt a bit destroyed by this, but I refused to show him that.

I took a deep breath before sighing with closed eyes.

"Is that what you want?" I ask him.

His brows narrowed at me. He bit his lip.

"What I want is you."

What.

I felt my eyes shot up. He looked at me with intensity.

Did I hear that right?

"What..." I said in shock.

He looked annoyed from my response but he also looked upset.

"Do you have any idea how much I want to hold you right now?" He says with so much desire.

I stared at him in surprise from his words. I felt him rock his hips onto mine and his dick hit me deep.

I winced from the sudden feeling and brought my hands next to his head. I leaned over him with his lips close to mine.

"Jina," he called out to me.

I gazed at this man who seemed so much different than before.

"Let me love you, damn it."

I saw a tear ran down his glossy eyes. He had so much emotion in them. His words made my stomach twist and turn.

Were these butterflies taking over my body?

Chan laid there and cried for me as he confessed his feelings. It was like something took over him. It was strange but the more he spoke, the more my heart raced.

"You don't have any fucking idea how much I want you, Jina," he tells me.

I watched as he tried to control himself but he had so much he wanted to say.

"Don't fucking say you'll leave me. Don't fucking say that!" He yelled. "Why the hell would I let someone like you walk away so easily?"

I didn't know what to say. Was he being serious? The Chan that always said things without care was now crying in my stead. He spoke to me as if he was losing the one thing he has ever known.

"I fucking love you Jina," he confesses with his rough voice turning soft towards the end.

My heart skipped a beat.

"I love you more than you could fucking imagine." His voice was shaky as though he would lose it any moment from now.

That flame in his eyes.

They burned more than I've ever seen before.

I kissed him. I kissed him as deeply as I possibly can. I moaned once I felt him thrust into me in the middle of the kiss.

I let out a moan while our faces remained pressed together. I continued to make out with him with our lips getting sloppy the more we rocked our hips together.

"Let me go, Jina. I want you so bad," he tells me as he makes out with my cheek.

I moaned from the sensation he was giving me and the feelings that wouldn't stop growing.

I turned to look at him. I panted as he continued to thrust into me. His dick made me feel full and I couldn't think with the way his rod felt against my walls. It clung onto him so tightly that I wanted to scream.

"Jina... please," he begged me.

I can hear the cuffs on his wrists shake.

I want him.

I want him more than ever.

I got off him so I can help him get out of his restraints. He kept his word and I kept my end of the deal. I untied the ropes that held down his ankles and I grabbed the key from the drawer.

I let him go.

The moment he was free, I felt him pull me towards him. He spooned me tightly before kissing the back of my neck.

I moaned from his touch. One of his hands held onto my breast and the other one played with my clitoris. He rubbed his dick against my entrance while he fondled my body.

His chest was pressed against my back and I could feel him breathe. I moaned as he left hickeys all over my neck. I can feel them form with the way he would bite and suck my skin.

He then entered me and I felt him hold me tightly. His dick felt amazing inside me.

He rolled me over so I went on my hands and knees while he kneeled behind me. He began to thrust and the bed shook with how powerful he penetrated me.

I let out a moan. Our skins slapped together with the follow of him growling. He was like a beast set loose. He had no intention of stopping. I let out moans from the pleasure that was taking over me.

"Chan!" I yelled.

I can hear him moan. His voice was deep and his growls were even deeper.

"Jina!" He yelled my name.

The slapping of our skins echoed with the slamming of our bed frame. There was chaos in this room. It was so loud and immense, I lost all process of thinking.

Moans echoed this room. Chan and I couldn't get enough of each other. We wanted more.

We needed more.

He turned me over so I could face him. He lifted my hips and I wrapped my legs around him. My body curved so his dick can get a better angle inside me. My head hung back on the bed while my hips were raised up by his hands.

His muscles tensed the more he rammed into me.

"Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!" He yelled just like before.

I couldn't speak. All I could do was scream as his dick hit my g-spot. I tried to say his name but all that came out was incoherent moans.

I felt him pull me up from my back so he can carry me. My upper body came to the same level as his with his hands resting at my ass. He held onto me so tightly while my arms wrapped around his neck.

He kissed me while he rearranged my insides. I screamed in his mouth and in return he let out a moan.

Chan was fucking strong. He carried me while he moved my hips to match his thrust. My head threw back from the immense pleasure that overtook me.

"Chan. Chan! CHAN!" I yelled his name as I tried to control my moans.

He made out with my neck. My eyes rolled back. His dick. His fucking dick.

Fuck the way it felt inside me.

I can't explain it.

I can't explain how well he knew how to use it.

My moans kept ending up into scream. I was going to cum.

"Chan! I'm going to-" I say but he rammed his lips into mine.

I screamed as his dick shook my body. He brought me down to the bed and lifted my legs onto his shoulders. He kept thrusting into me and hitting spots I didn't think was possible to hit.

"CHAN!" I screamed. "BABY PLEASE! I'M CUMMIMG!"

Never have I called him baby. But this feeling he was giving me. The way he held me and the way his eyes never left mine.

It was like he was telling me that I was his and he was mine.

"Call me that again!" He moaned as he thrusted into me. "Call me that!"

I gripped his forearm for dear life as I felt my climax coming in.

"Baby! BABY!" I yelled as he fucked me up.

I felt it. I felt his dick take over me. My body began to shake and my eyes rolled backwards.

"OH FUCK!" I screamed.

My body shook with ecstasy and my nails dug deep as I tried to pull him closer to me. He winced loudly in my ear. He wouldn't stop pounding me even though I orgasmed.

I began to shake uncontrollably. Moans left my lips like a broken record.

Was this how Chan felt when I over stimulated him?

Holy shit did this feel good.

I used every ounce of my energy to keep my eyes open. I was going to pass out from the amount of pleasure he was giving me, but I didn't wanna stop.

Chan rolled me over so I straddled him. I rode him with his dick still deep in me. He thrusted vigorously. I felt his dick twitch and I knew he was going to cum.

"JINA!" He moaned loudly.

He held my hips as we rocked the bed together. His breathing became unsteady and he grunted.

I felt his thrusts become desperate while I was losing my mind.

"OH FUCK!" He yelled.

His juices entered me and shook once again from the sensation he gave me. I collapsed on top of him.

Our body's shook and twitched as we tried to catch our breath. I attempted to get off him, but his arms wrapped around me tightly. He didn't let me go.

"I love you Jina," he says. "I need you to know that."

I softly smiled but I was too exhausted to say any witty remarks. I hugged him tightly.

"I love you, Chan. Don't you forget that," I whisper to him.

Upon this, I fell asleep with his arms holding me tightly with his chest against mine.

That night was the start of our real relationship. The contract was gone. Ever since then, our lives became different.

This marriage became far better than before.

There was love and our stubbornness to never let go.

I loved him and he loved me.

That was more than enough.

• �� •

E N D | Thank you for reading <3

S M U T | M A I N | O N E S H O T S | S C E N A R I O S

#seventeen dino #lee chan smut #seventeen dino smut #dino x you #dino smut #dino x reader #svt chan

16 notes · View notes

jeysbvck · 2 years

Text

give me all of your love (give me something to dream about)

A/N: i have to give a massive shoutout to @mayhem24-7forever, my steddie bestie, for giving me the motivation to write this, for being my soundboard and for being the first person to read it! this is just a sneak peek into what my brain has been coming up with lately, eddie munson is my muse. gif credit goes to the wonderful multi-talented @chaseadrian <3

warnings: AFAB READER light bondage (handcuffs, gag), unprotected sex, f!receiving, m!receiving, slight praise kink, talk of female masturbation, talk of male masturbation, no s4 spoilers.

word count: 4.9k

summary: You had been in Eddie's trailer plenty of times, but never in his bedroom, it was just somewhere you didn't hang out. At first, you didn't think anything of it, unless it was how many people he'd had in there over you, making your jealousy grow. It wasn't like he'd been in your bedroom either, but the more your crush grew, the more curious you were about the sacred room you hadn't stepped foot in. Where he slept, where he got naked, where he...

You didn't want to go to this party, but as usual, you'd let Robin twist your arm. You weren't much of a social butterfly, and you definitely weren't someone who liked parties, but Robin had told you it would be fun, and that it would be good for you. When you combated with how you wouldn't know anyone there, she said it wouldn't matter because she'd be glued to your side all night. Then, she pulled out her ace in the hole and said, "Eddie's gonna be there."

You'd tried to act casual, pretending to begrudgingly accept after the fact, but Robin knew. Despite her little quirks, Robin picked up on everything so quickly, especially when it came to you. She always knew how you were feeling, when you had no idea, and she always knew when something was wrong before you'd told her. So it really came as no surprise that Robin knew you had a crush on Eddie before you did.

According to Robin, she'd realized your Oh moment was during a Dungeons and Dragons game. You, Robin, Steve, and Eddie were supposed to be going to the movies, but instead, you were sitting in the school, spectators to the game that had, unsurprisingly, ran longer than Eddie had previously promised. Steve had fallen asleep, snoring slightly as he drooled on Robin's shoulder. She had no idea, though, she was too busy watching you, not the game.

Your eyes were transfixed on Eddie as he played the perfect role of Dungeon Master. Your face was full of adoration as you saw a side of Eddie you hadn't before; the way he laughed, smiled, and practically danced around the room dramatically, animated and completely in his element. Later that night, Robin casually asked you how long you'd been crushing on Eddie, to which you laughed and outright denied, but your attempts were futile, and you realized - with Robin's help - that you did in fact have a crush on Eddie Munson.

Back at the party, you were currently dancing with Steve, laughing at him as he sang along to the music and forced you to wave your arms around, a clear attempt of trying to make you forget about the mortifying events that led to you and Steve dancing. Robin had somehow convinced you to ask Eddie to dance, and even though you knew it was a ridiculous idea, you did it anyway. You didn't think you could've made it any more clear, your eyes solely on Eddie as you asked, "Does anyone wanna dance? I love this song!"

An awkward silence had fallen over the four of you as Eddie stood there, silent. You could feel the embarrassment seeping its way through every pore in your body, and you mentally begged the floor to open up underneath your feet and swallow you up. Why had you let yourself be convinced to do this? You couldn't blame Robin, you knew it was a bad idea and you did it anyway. But then, wonderfully sweet Steve, who clearly couldn't handle this awkward situation any longer - and who told Robin later on that your huge sad eyes almost broke his heart- cleared his throat and smiled at you. "Well, I'd love to dance." He said, shooting Eddie a look while holding his hand out to you. You reciprocated the smile and took his hand, grateful for his save.

Robin shot daggers at Eddie, annoyed with his idiocy, but he barely noticed, he didn't care. You and Steve were the focus of his attention, enamoring Eddie with the way you were laughing, your head was thrown back as Steve spun you around. He couldn't help but seethe with jealousy as he wished it was him in Steve's place.

"You know they're just friends, right?" Robin said, bumping him with her shoulder, and Eddie scoffed.

"Yes, obviously I know that." He replied, but he paused, then added, "She did wanna dance with him though."

Robin snorted, before replying, "You're an idiot." Eddie finally tore his eyes away from you to frown at Robin and she chuckled as she shrugged. "I'm sorry! But she definitely wasn't asking me or Steve to dance."

Eddie stared at Robin blankly, and she sighed. "Seriously? Look, if you had the balls, that would be you dancing with her, and we both know it. She wanted to dance with you, but you ignored her. Steve only offered because he was saving her from dying from embarrassment! Eddie, it was so awkward, man!"

Eddie stifled a groan and rolled his eyes. He'd had a crush on you for months now and with each passing day, his feelings were growing stronger, like it was choking him, making it harder to breathe. The night he realized was tattooed on his brain; he was on stage at The Hideout, playing a show with his band when he saw you and Robin in the crowd. You weren't hard to miss, not just because the crowd wasn't huge, but because you were both screaming like your favourite band in the world were playing on stage. Not only that, you were both wearing Corroded Coffin t-shirts. When he asked Robin about them after the show, she confirmed that the t-shirts were your idea, and that was when he realized what everyone meant by the Oh moment, because that was his.

"Ugh, shit man, I'm going for a smoke." Eddie mumbled, rushing off before Robin could object or offer to join him.

When Eddie wasn't around you, he found himself missing you. When he was around you, he had to constantly remind himself to breathe, especially when he was on the receiving end of one of your laughs or smiles. He thought about you constantly, when he heard a song on the radio, or when he drove through Hawkins, passing the places you'd graced with your presence. He especially thought of you at night, with his hand around his cock.

The first time it happened, it was an accident, and afterward he could barely look at you, the guilt ate him up inside. But it kept happening, and by the sixth time, the guilt had disappeared. He couldn't help how good the thoughts made him feel, how quickly he came when he thought about your mouth wrapped around his cock, and when he imagined you underneath him, cuffed to his bed, bandana stuffed in your mouth as he slammed into you.

He knew he wasn't being very subtle about his crush - he practically turned into putty whenever you smiled at him - but for some reason, you had no idea. Robin and even Steve had both worked it out, but you were still completely oblivious to the effect you had on him. You didn't think you were special to anyone, least of all Eddie.

But you were. There was nobody else he'd drop everything for, just because they'd called and needed him; whether it was just a chat, or it was a ride, he was there. He never let anyone choose the music in his truck just so he could watch out of the corner of his eye as their face lit up as they sang along. He didn't hang out with anyone else in silence, them reading a book while he strummed a tune on his guitar. Nobody else made him feel comfortable like you did. He wasn't afraid of losing anyone else the way he was afraid of losing you.

He wasn't sure how long he could keep his feelings at bay, and it was killing him. He knew he was pulling away; he was doing it right now, but he had convinced himself it was for the best. Even watching you dance with one of your best friends had him jealous, and he hated being jealous of Steve fucking Harrington. He was beginning to think his options were limited to running away until he'd gotten over his feelings, or confessing and getting it all off his chest. But with both options, he could lose you forever.

Instead of just going into the garden for a smoke, Eddie decided to leave the party altogether and head home. It wasn't like he knew the fucking host, he'd just tagged along after Steve had mentioned, not so subtly, that you'd be going. Besides, he didn't think anyone would notice him slip out. But he was wrong. His hand was on the wooden gate when he heard you call out.

"Eddie Munson, how dare you not tell me you were leaving."

Eddie turned around sheepishly, watching as you stormed up to him, your arms folded and lips pouted, not unlike in his fantasies, making him shift uncomfortably on his feet. "I didn't wanna interrupt, you seemed to be having fun." He replied.

You rolled your eyes. "Well, come on then. I'll come with you."

"What? No, that's o-"

You cut him off, reaching up and covering his mouth with your hand. "Shush, no arguing! Besides, I only came to this stupid thing because Robin said you were."

Eddie was about to lick your hand in protest for silencing him, but instead, he grinned, surprised by your confession. Your cheeks flushed pink as you realized what you'd said, and you removed your hand before quickly walking out the gate. He couldn't help but stare at your ass as you walked ahead, and he groaned as the front of his jeans grew tighter, praying that the walk home went quickly so he could relieve himself.

****

Somehow, instead of going home, you'd ended up back at Eddie's trailer. You had offhandedly mentioned that you were slightly bummed out that the night had ended earlier than planned, and Eddie had quickly invited you back to his. Nothing about this was strange, but, tonight, you'd be hanging out in his bedroom.

You had been in Eddie's trailer plenty of times, but never in his bedroom, it was just somewhere you didn't hang out. At first, you didn't think anything of it, unless it was how many people he'd had in there over you, making your jealousy grow. It wasn't like he'd been in your bedroom either, but the more your crush grew, the more curious you were about the sacred room you hadn't stepped foot in. Where he slept, where he got naked, where he...

You shook your head, hoping it would get rid of the thoughts clouding your brain. For the past few months, you'd been grappling with your feelings for Eddie. Since Robin had essentially confirmed your feelings for him, the adorable metalhead had consumed your every thought. It had gotten so bad that one day, while hanging out with Eddie in his trailer, you spent an hour peering over at him as he played the guitar, watching as his fingers expertly and sexily plucked at the strings. Later that night, you woke up in a sweat from a very steamy dream, in which Eddie's hands were the focal point, one wrapped around your neck as the other played with your clit, just as when playing with his guitar. And now, here you were, in his bedroom, the guitar hanging up over his mirror, the metal posters on his wall, smoking paraphernalia cluttering up his desk.

Eddie appeared at the bedroom door and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you sitting on his bed, and he watched from the doorway as your eyes made their way around his room, unaware he was watching you. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms; usually, he'd feel awkward, scrutinized, while someone inspected his room, but he didn't feel that way with you. He was so at ease with you, he never had to worry about whether you were going to think he was ridiculous, or a freak.

"You know, your room is completely you." You said once you had scanned the room and your eyes had found him by the door.

"What does that mean?" Eddie asked, his eyebrow arched.

"You know, the bandanas, the guitar, the posters, the messy desk." You replied, your eyes scanning the room once more for more things to tease him about. "Wait. Are those...handcuffs?" You asked as your eyes widened.

"Oh, yeah." Eddie chuckled.

"And you've used them?"

"I have, yes."

Eddie didn't think he'd ever seen you blush as much as you did at that moment. Your eyes were huge, your mouth suddenly as dry as a desert, your whole body on fire as your brain and body ignored your silent pleas to behave. You'd never really thought about being restrained, all your sexual adventures had been vanilla, and as much as you knew you liked certain things that you'd never put into practice, handcuffs were not one you'd thought about. Until now.

"Are you okay, love?" Eddie asked, not attempting to hide the shit-eating smirk on his face. You knew how many people he'd been with and with how experienced Eddie was, and you were pretty certain that he'd be able to tell what you were thinking and feeling. Besides, you weren't exactly hiding it well.

"I'm fine." Somehow you had managed to keep your voice steady, and Eddie's eyebrow raised slightly as the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Have you used handcuffs before?" Eddie asked. He knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn't stop himself. It was too much for him. The way you kept your voice normal, but your body was betraying you, the way your cheeks flushed pink, the way your whole body had stiffened. This was a situation he felt in control of, although he was a little nervous, after all, he never thought he’d be in this situation with you.

With Eddie leaning against the doorframe like that, he had never looked hotter. He was looking at you like he wanted to take you, to ravish you. You were torn. You had thought about this, dreamt about it, fantasized about it. Your body was aching for his touch. But you knew, if you did this, you'd be done for. This was the line, if you crossed this, your friendship would forever be changed.

But you were sick of being that girl. Sick of playing it safe, not rocking the boat, not taking what you want. You were sick of having bland, vanilla sex with people that made you feel just...fine. You wanted to feel like you felt right now while under Eddie's piercing gaze. You wanted the excitement, the passion, the overwhelming desire. And you wanted it with Eddie.

A playful smirk spread as you bit your lip, and before you could stop yourself, you replied with, "Not yet."

Eddie almost passed out right there and then. He was sure you were challenging him, and he was about to find out. He pushed himself off the doorframe and folded his arm across his chest, before he walked slowly towards the bed, and towards you, sitting cross-legged. He towered over you at the foot of the bed, staring down at you while you looked up at him. His beautiful brown eyes hypnotized you, refusing to allow you to look away.

You had never seen anyone look at you the way Eddie was, his eyes blazing with desire, and everything you wanted to feel with the others, you were feeling right now. Was it worth being another notch on Eddie's bedpost? You knew that if you crossed this line, you couldn't uncross it. But you'd wanted this for months, you pleasured yourself to thoughts of Eddie being buried deep inside you. Now you just needed to weigh up whether this night of undeniable passion would be worth it if Eddie just saw this as a one-night thing

Eddie looked confident on the surface, but as he got closer to you, he was anything but. He knew where he wanted this to go, and he was almost certain that you were on the same page; but if you did this, it was something you couldn't come back from, and he wasn't sure once would be enough. But, shit, he'd been fantasizing for months about you, and what he'd do to you given the chance, and now, well it seemed this was his best chance.

Eddie ran his tongue over his lips. "What do you want, right now?" He asked, bringing his head down to you, his long, ring-clad fingers tucking your hair behind your ear; a simple, gentle gesture that made your heart soar. Your eyes darted down to his full lips that were parted slightly, your breath shaky while your heart smashed against your ribs like it wanted to be free from its cage.

"I want you." You whispered.

Eddie's hand cupped your cheek as he cautiously kissed you. The fire inside you that had been crackling all night ignited, and your hands found the back of his neck as you pulled him closer. You and Eddie toppled back onto the bed, his hand slamming against the bed, his lips never leaving yours.

With his tongue in your mouth, his hand grasping at your hair, your hands around his neck, it still wasn't enough. You pushed his vest off before pulling at his t-shirt, which Eddie complied with quickly, but when you started on his jeans, he stopped you and looked down at you.

"Are you sure? We don't have to do this, we can stop and pretend like this never happened." Eddie said. You searched his face for any sign of what he wanted, but all you saw was concern for you.

"I want this." You whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek. "I want you, Eddie."

Eddie couldn’t take it anymore, and his mouth was on yours again, as he ripped open your blouse, the buttons flinging off across the room. "Oops." Eddie mumbled into your mouth, but you didn't care about the blouse, you just needed him.

Eddie's t-shirt was the next, along with his jeans, which left him in his underwear, and you in an open blouse, with your bra on display, and your jeans. Eddie's hand slipped around your back while yours worked on getting him out of his jeans. But when Eddie unhooked your bra flawlessly with one hand, your concentration dropped as you thought about what else his hands were good at.

Eddie didn't waste any time, both his jeans and yours were quickly discarded, being thrown over his shoulder. He sat in between your legs staring down at you, in awe of how sexy you looked underneath him. His fingers slowly and gently traced a path up your leg towards your clothed vagina, making sure to touch every part of bare skin, but not where you needed him.

With you writhing underneath him, even though he'd barely touched you, he was in heaven. His fingers left your crotch and he dragged them across your hips and stomach until he reached your breasts. His cock, still constricted by his underwear - which left nothing to the imagination - rubbed against your underwear and you stifled a moan. But when Eddie began to knead your breasts; the cold metal of his rings against your hot skin as he pulled and rolled your nipples with his fingers, while he kissed, bit, sucked, and licked your neck, you couldn't keep the moan in any longer.

Your moan made Eddie grind against you harder and in response, you rubbed his cock through his underwear. A small groan got caught in Eddie's throat as his mouth latched onto your neck harder. When you put your hand into your panties and used your juices as lube, grabbing Eddie's cock from inside his underwear, his mouth left your neck as he made the sexiest sound you'd ever heard. You pushed his underwear down with one hand, while your other worked his large, girthy cock, but he had another idea.

"Shuffle up the bed a little." He ordered. You raised your eyebrow slightly but you obliged. Eddie's cock got harder, which he didn't think was possible, as he watched your breasts bounce slightly while you moved. When you were in the correct position, Eddie crawled up your body before he grabbed both of your wrists, bringing them up over your head, clasping both of them in one of his large hands. You could feel yourself getting wetter as you anticipated what was about to happen next.

"You still wanna use the handcuffs, baby?" Eddie asked, his voice laced with lust and you nodded. "I'm gonna need you to speak up."

"Yes, I wanna still use the handcuffs." You repeated. You had barely finished your sentence when he had grabbed your wrists and clasped the handcuffs to them and his bed frame. You instinctively tried to move but you couldn't; the only thing you could do was grab the metal bars on the frame with your hands, and Eddie smirked above you.

"Good girl." He replied, almost making you lose it instantly. He brought his lips to yours and gave you a long, deep kiss before he pulled away and headed down your body, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake.

When he got to your panties, you lifted your ass so he could pull them off, placing them next to you both on your bed. Once he had done that, he stared at you, handcuffed to his bed in all your naked glory. His eyes slowly trailed your body, from the top of your head, stopping to admire your cunt, glistening with arousal, all for him. You had never had someone stare at you like this, admiring every part of your body like you were a sculpture in a museum. Eddie was making you feel sexy, with the look of a hungry, feral dog in his eyes.

"Open your mouth wider." Eddie ordered, your eyes wide at his dominant demeanour, but you complied. He picked up your panties from next to him, bringing them to your face, but hesitated, silently asking your consent and you nodded as you opened your mouth wider, letting Eddie stuff your balled-up panties into your mouth. Might as well, you thought, I'm already handcuffed to the bed. You could taste your arousal on the cotton and you were surprised to find that it was pretty hot. And judging from the prettiest fucking grin you'd ever seen in your life being thrown your way from Eddie, he definitely thought the same.

Eddie couldn’t take it any longer, and he buried his head in between your thighs, wasting no time with teasing, instead, lapping you up as your hips bucked. You moaned and cursed loudly as he devoured your cunt, pinning your hips down with one arm as he pushed two ringed fingers inside you.

"F-ffuck Eddie!" You moaned, muffled by your panties. He quickened the pace of his fingers, and you silently cursed that your hands were bound because right now all you wanted to do was lace your fingers in his hair and push him closer to you. You settled on using your thighs, clenching them against either side of his head, making Eddie moan into your cunt.

Eddie lifted his head to look up at you. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, your eyes closed, mouth parted slightly, looking absolutely perfect as you tried to hold off your orgasm. But that wouldn't do, Eddie needed you to fall apart now.

Eddie flattened his long tongue, dragging it slowly up your cunt. "You taste fucking incredible, baby." Eddie said, his voice so low, it was almost a growl. His tongue flicked away at your clit while his fingers worked your entrance, bringing you to the brink.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train; your back arched, your moans muffled as Eddie's tongue found its way inside you as you came apart, your juices coating his face. You were pretty fucking sure that right now, Eddie could ask you to do literally anything, and you'd comply. You lay in a breathless, blissful state as you came down from the high, your nerves on high alert as Eddie kissed your thighs before he leaned on his elbow next to you. He brushed the hair from your face and removed the panties from your mouth, smiling adoringly at you as he did.

"You okay, Princess?" He asked, a smirk on his lips. You nodded as you turned your head to face him, pouting as you did, inviting him to kiss you, which he accepted. The kiss started out soft and sweet, but once your tongue parted his lips and his hands began to roam your body again, you were set alight for the second time.

Eddie shifted his position, throwing his leg over so he was straddling you, a glint in his eyes. You knew you were both on the same page, especially when you lifted your head up, sticking your tongue out, inviting him to fuck your mouth. Eddie obliged and when your mouth closed around him, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he groaned loudly.

Eddie knew he wasn't going to last long if you kept doing what you were doing with your tongue, he just couldn't bring himself to stop you. But then you caught him off guard when you took all of his cock in your mouth, choking a little as you did.

"Oh fffuck, fuck!" He yelled, pulling his cock out of your mouth. You grinned victoriously as Eddie pulled himself together.

"You alright, baby?" You asked, teasingly and Eddie chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so cocky if I was you, Princess, you're still handcuffed to the bed."

You jiggled your wrists, the metal clinking against the bed frame and you bit your lip. "Hmmm, is that a threat, Munson?"

Eddie grinned, a smile that was very much your favorite, as he lined the tip of his cock with your entrance, his tongue running over his lips. "Oh, it's definitely not a threat." He replied as he slammed himself into you, hard.

A mix of profanities and moans left your mouth as he thrusted into you, and you were sure you were going to have bruises tomorrow. He fucked you, one hand gripping your hip, the other around your throat and it was very obvious; Eddie knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew that once wasn't ever going to be enough. You tried to move your hands again, but you forgot about the handcuffs and you groaned.

"Eddie...fuck, I need-" You couldn't finish your sentence, instead you rattled the handcuffs. He understood, and he pulled out of you, grabbed the handcuff key off the cabinet next to the bed and released you.

Your hands went straight for the back of his head, as Eddie wasted no time, his cock sliding easily back into your cunt, this time you finally pulled at his hair, making him curse. You kissed him, your tongue slipping into his mouth, while he fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before. You were in complete ecstasy.

Eddie had never felt as good as he did right now. While buried deep inside you, his hands roaming your body with yours tangled up in his curls, he knew he'd never need anything as much as he needed this to happen again. There was so much more he wanted to do to you, and there was no way he was lasting too much longer now. He knew he could pull out, drag this out longer but honestly, he didn't want to, he just wanted to fuck you until you came.

Eddie began to play with your clit as he fucked you, the metal of his rings cold against you, bringing you closer to the edge, and Eddie could feel it.

"You feel so fucking good." He whispered in your ear, his voice sultry and full of lust, his breath on your neck. "Come on baby girl, come for me."

That was it. The floodgates had been broken, the wave of euphoria washed over you like a tidal wave, moaning his name, as he fell apart with you.

"Such a good fucking girl." Eddie grunted as he rode his orgasm out, before falling flat on top of you, his nose buried into your neck. "My good girl."

Your heart skipped a few dozen beats at those three words, and you were pretty fucking sure you were in love. Not that you'd ever say it out loud, it was more than likely the after sex adrenaline talking.

Eddie moved his head, so he was now lying on your bare chest, tracing random shapes on your arm lazily. You shivered, goosebumps appearing over your body and Eddie leaned over the bed, throwing you one of his t-shirts.

"Are you okay, love?" He asked, repeating his words from before, but softer this time.

"I'm okay." You confirmed before a yawn escaped your throat.

Eddie put his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, relishing in the chance to hold you. "Do you wanna stay here? I'll even make you breakfast in the morning." Eddie said softly, he almost sounded shy.

You smiled, and he was sure that the room got brighter. "Oh Eddie Munson, I bet you say that to everyone."

"Pfft, you think I offer to make breakfast for just anyone?" He scoffed. "Only the ones who do that thing with their tongue."

You laughed loudly and patted him on the chest. "Well, depending on how good breakfast is tomorrow, I may do it again."

"Oh really? A brunch treat? "I very much like the sound of that m'lady." He replied, as his eyes fluttered shut, and the last thing he felt was you pressing your soft lips gently to his temple.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #my creations*

366 notes · View notes

zablife · 2 years

Text

Smile Like You Mean It

Jack Nelson x wife reader x female lover

Summary: After a boring evening at a society function, Jack arranges a naughty surprise to see you smile.

Author’s Note: Porn with little to no plot. Thanks to @retromafia for being my beta reader.

Warnings:🔞, drinking, smut-threesome (ffm), bondage, fingering, oral sex, slight dub con, use of nickname “Daddy” a couple of times

You downed a second glass of champagne, scowling to yourself when you realized it was still early in the evening. Jack had abandoned you to speak with a senator and you were thoroughly bored having no interest in rubbing elbows with the dull politicians’ wives who droned incessantly about their prize winning dogs and rose gardens. You stood alone avoiding them, admiring your new ruby earrings in a large gilt mirror.

You were dressed in a long crimson gown Jack had chosen for the occasion. Even though you adored new clothes, you pouted when he took it out of the box, knowing another tiresome evening had been added to your social calendar. You had obnoxiously requested the earrings to match as a consolation for having to attend another gala. Jack gave into your demands because he would do anything to have you on his arm.

As you scanned the crowd, your eyes fell upon a beautiful woman who looked equally unamused. You watched her for a time, enchanted by the way she moved and talked. She had an elegant way of sipping from her glass and touching the back of her neck with her gloved hand that created a stir of desire within you. You were about to cross the room to speak with her when she was approached by an older gentleman. Within a few moments, she rebuffed him in anger and stormed out. You considered going after her, curiosity peaked by her display of emotion, when Jack approached you. He followed your gaze and asked, “What was that about?”

“I have no idea,” you said trying to sound disinterested. Jack could tell you were intrigued, but decided to change the conversation to what he really wanted to discuss.

“Y/n, honey, I know these events aren’t your thing, but could you smile please? We can’t be rude to our hosts,” he said whispering in your ear. You plastered on an obviously fake grin and Jack pulled away with a disapproving look, “Smile like you mean it,” he instructed.

“Give me something to smile about and I will,” you retorted.

Jack knew how to handle these situations though, a well placed bribe always worked with you. “Mind your manners a little longer and I’ll get you another present,” he promised. He winked as he placed a hand to your lower back, steering you toward a group of people. As you chatted, you tried your best to be as charming as possible. You noticed Jack watch you from the corner of his eye, nodding approvingly as you spoke. You could tell you were making him proud and you thrilled inwardly at the idea of a surprise from Jack. What would it be this time, you wondered?

On the drive home, you put your head on his shoulder. “You were really somethin tonight, doll. Made me proud,” He said draping an arm around you protectively.

“What do I get?,” you said running a hand suggestively across his thigh.

Jack let out an amused chuckle. “You can be such a fucking brat, you know that?” he asked grabbing the back of your head harshly and pulling you toward him for a passionate kiss. “Don't worry, I’ve got a little surprise for you I think you’re gonna like.”

——————————————————————————

“Just lay back and relax, angel,” Jack said in a soothing voice.

You stumbled backwards and fell onto the bed with a giggle. You’d had a long evening playing the perfect little wife and now Jack wanted it to be about nothing more than your pleasure.

He had a special surprise planned for you, but he wouldn’t reveal his hand just yet. As he worked your evening gown down your body, he kissed a trail down your throat and over your breasts, stopping to suck on your nipples. The skin pebbled into rough ridges at his touch and you arched your back with a moan. He released your nipple with a pop and blew a stream of air over the wetness making you shiver with delight before continuing down your body. He sucked a deep bruise into your hip bone as you writhed under him. “Gotta leave a souvenir of the night,” he said breathlessly when he was done, dragging his fingers over the mark he had left.

“Jack…” you whined, needing him desperately.

“I know, angel, gonna make you feel good,” he promised, hooking his fingers into the sides of your underwear and peeling them down your legs slowly. Your hair was mussed from your make out session in the car and he drank in the picture of your disheveled appearance before him. God, how he wanted to see you ruined even further.

He stood briefly, pulling his belt from his pants and he saw your eyes widen. “No, doll, not going to punish you tonight. Not when you’ve been such a good girl.” You nodded. “But I am going to tie your hands up so they don’t get in the way, alright?” You nodded again obediently as he used his belt to restrain your hands above your head

“Yes, Daddy,” you replied in a near whisper, mesmerized by his movements.

When he was done, he ran his hands along your body stopping to place his thumb over your lips, smearing your lipstick crudely. You pulled his thumb into your mouth with your tongue and sucked hard as you kept eye contact with him. “Fuck, doll, you’re makin me so hard,” he said leaning down to capture your mouth in a feverish kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth to fight you for dominance. Saliva ran down the corners of your mouth as he devoured you and you were soon gasping for breath as he pulled away from you.

You gulped as you watched him run a hand over his clothed hardness. “I want you baby, but you deserve a little something first, huh? Close your eyes.” You immediately did as he said and felt him place his necktie around your eyes, the silky material obscuring any light coming from the bedside lamp. Then you heard him sink to his knees at the end of the bed. You sucked in a breath waiting to feel his mouth on your sex.

He made you wait a torturously long time as he shifted in place and you started bucking your hips wanting to feel something to ease the building pressure deep within your core. Jack’s large hands came down on your hips suddenly warning you, “Be a good little doll,” and you stilled waiting for his mouth.

What you felt next made your heart stop, soft careful strokes of his tongue on your outer lips. He was much more gentle than usual, a feather lightness that ignited a fire in you. He sucked one side into his mouth and then the other before moving to lap at your center, gathering your juices. He licked a stripe up to the bundle of nerves at your apex and toyed with you until you were moaning. You could feel yourself leaking onto the sheets, but you couldn’t care less.

Then you felt a tongue slide into your warmth, poking into your tightness with abandon, nose softly brushing your clit with each stroke. You took a deep breath, trying to hold off the tingling feeling you felt racing through your limbs. But Jack was so attuned to your body, he knew now was the time to push your body further, you felt a deep suction on your clit as two fingers slid into your warm heat. Then you felt the comforting pressure of Jack's large hand pressing firmly against your lower abdomen making every inner sensation feel amplified.

For some reason it wasn’t enough tonight. The feeling was different somehow. “More, need more…” you whined and Jack chuckled. You felt another finger push into you and you swallowed thickly. The feeling of exquisite fullness finally achieved as you practically drooled onto the pillow. In no time you were whimpering, “Need to cum, Daddy, please.” You continued to beg knowing you needed his permission.

“Soon, princess, just hold it a little longer,” he said sweetly. Then you felt the bed dip with his weight, he was sitting next to you placing desperate kisses to your mouth as he held your chin. Your mind was overwhelmed with pleasure from the fingers still inside you and you rocked your hips chasing a high you were still being denied but wanted badly. “Please, please...” you cried out wantonly. Then suddenly Jack removed the tie, but you kept your eyes screwed shut focused on the pleasure you felt.

His hand stroked your cheek lightly as you heard his voice growl out a command, “Open your fucking eyes,” and just as you did, Jack turned your chin downward so you could see the woman from the party between your legs.

Drunk with lust, Jack leaned in and whispered darkly “Cum for me.” And even in your shocked state you let go, mouth hanging open to release a lewd moan. Jack pinched your nipples making you see stars, then turned your cheek to him so he could watch your beautiful face contort with pleasure. The mind-numbing sensations consumed every part of you until you were panting and sweating.

The woman continued her expert work, curling her fingers to just the right spot to prolong your high. She ran her other hand down your shaking legs to calm you as you came down and Jack untied your hands so you could run your fingers through her soft curls. She hummed and giggled against you soaking folds making you shudder with aftershocks.

As you fought to catch your breath, Jack stroked your breasts gently and peppered your face with light kisses. “Did you like your surprise?” he asked with a devilish grin.

“Mmmm-hmm,” you said barely able to form words as you looked down at your guest, stroking her face as she lay her head on your thigh returning your adoring gaze.

“I thought you might,” he said reaching down to bring the woman up to you. Her naked body gliding against yours, nipples brushing your stomach and breasts as she came to rest over you. She kissed you fully so you could taste yourself on her lips and you sighed with satisfaction.

Jack stood to remove his trousers and you looked over at him with an eager grin, “That’s the smile I’ve been waiting to see,” he said with a smirk, coming to join you in bed.

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

Tag list: @violaobanion, @daddyjack-nelson, @shelbydelrey

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Jack Nelson fanfic #Jack Nelson imagine #Jack Nelson x reader #Jack Nelson smut

140 notes · View notes