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ficsnroses · 4 years

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—𝑨𝒏 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝑬𝒙𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆. 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑾𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓—

summary : you sell your virginity to John Wick.

warnings : smut, consensual sex. oral sex. x f! reader. 5.5k.

notes : hope ya like it! I’m hoping to actually maybe make a part two. I think it would be nice to explore how this turns out for them. please leave feedback! I’m a little nervous about this one, feedback would be so so appreciated. enjoy! xx

John Wick is a man of focus; little diversions that fray from his work were often absent of his mind. It’s been years since his semblance of hope, the light at the end of the tunnel had gave out on him, and he’d been dragged back into the world of gruesome sin for good.

Bound, serving under the table. A life liberate of vice was something John had stopped dreaming of long ago.

Work had been all that engrossed John, absorbed each inch of energy his battered bones could muster up for far too long. To be working, meant to be seldom alone. Being alone, translated to being unaccompanied, with himself. Listening to the weary, dark loomed thoughts that crawled in the crevices of his mind.

A crisp pour of amber bourbon sloshes into the clear crystal glass; a lone cube of sparkler ice accompanies the liquor John would soon shoot. Something that burns, something that might ease the part of him that thinks, ponders, wonders if this was alright.

Is what he’s doing, really, alright?

He stands, leaning on the high raised counter of the bar equipped in his hotel room. The crème walls of the Continental held many secrets, secured home to the worst of folk he’d had the ill-fate of dwelling among.

The men in here were awful. Cold, indifferent, chilled blood coursing wicked veins; John knew well of the evil that rummages within the corridors of this so called, safe haven.

Anyone else would destroy her.

Could ruin her.

John wouldn’t do that. Something separates John from the bulk of the crowds, something that differs him from the norm. John would on no occasion hurt an innocent being. John wouldn’t rip her to shreds. John would treat her as human; something people often forgot that John too, is.

Temporary relief, relaxation, substance; he’d vexed them all. Often, after a job well complete, he’d find himself in dire need of long repose; a minute to rest his somnolent composure. A moment to recharge, before he’d be forced to do it all over. Human contact, connection, was something he’d scarcely recalled.

A Bourbon would often have to do, the familiar scald down the cascade of his throat the only comfort he’d been accustomed to as of late. Yet recent, he’d been craving more. He’d been yearning for something more; something physical to satiate relief.

A heavy inhale floods his lungs, a lone hand held to his drink as his other toys with the collar of his brittle white dress shirt. Her eyes stayed on him, drinking in each of his features, desperate to understand how he’d be. John Wick is a man of few words, a stoic nature barely illuminating enough light to read.

He turns, the crystal glass set down on the hotel room table as he turns to her, on his bed, her legs crossed closed, silent. Like a lover, the silk of her short black dress seduces each curve of her devourable body, thin straps kissed to her satin shoulders, her silken skin gleaming under the hotel room lights. His voice is deep, ravishingly rich, throaty with gruff as it protrudes her ears. “You’ve never done this before?” He confirms, walking closer to her delicate frame, watching her equally unreadable expression.

When he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d found himself unable to look away. Captivatingly beautiful, enough to make any man week in his knees. John wasn’t one to fantasize, to want a woman, let alone offer a second look.

Yet seeing her, he’d downed in the enchant of her beautiful features; and the best part of all,

She was selling. She’d been looking to give herself to the highest bidder.

John Wick had found himself at the right place, at the right time. An impulsive buy, one might say. But he couldn’t leave her. Not only did his body yearn for someone, something to channel his deep need into, he also knew. She was far too precious, pure; whatever circumstances had brought her to do such a thing, he wouldn’t ask.

He’d buy her. And he’d use her service.

He needed it. Sex hungry, his body longs for someone real to take care of him.

Her eyes are soft, lips stained a rosy shade of mauve as she makes direct eye contact. Blushy cheeks, soft, shining hair flutters gentle in free air as she shakes her head ‘no’.

She’d never been with anyone before. She was pure. Untouched.

With a down of the final few drops of drink in his glass, John’s shirt unbuttons, peeled off his torso in a swift motion, revealing beautifully toned, bulked muscles; rosy skin, a broad back, tattooed with bold ink on display. John must have been 20 years her senior, yet his shape proved peak. Firm biceps, defined torso, beautifully groomed, lengthy chocolate locks only adding to his splendour.

She’d expected to be bought by some middle aged, unattractive man looking to be with anyone other than his wife. John was far from that. She didn’t know if he’d seen seeing anyone else, if he was married, taken.

Not that it was any of her business.

She watches his hands move to fondle a heavy worn belt, working the buckle as it comes off his dark slacks.

“Is there anything you don’t want me to do.”

John’s rich voice surges through her ears, his question falling his thin taut lips as more of a statement, an establishment of boundaries.

She didn’t think she’d get that choice. She’d expected to be used however her buyer pleased.

With a gentle clear of throat, she nods her head no, gazing out the window of the high story hotel suite. Busy New York city life buzzes below, the nightlife pulsing through the city heart. Endless opportunity. Endless chance.

John’s belt thuds to the marble floor with a heavy clink, his body inching closer, hand dangerously close to her feeble frame as he asks, the question sending shivers down her spine. “Can I undress you?”

The question came with surprise. Part of her thanked the universe for delivering her to John, of all men. He’d been hard to read, reserved, but he hadn’t done what she’d prepared herself for immense. Although she knew, her body was merely a vessel for him to use, to get what he wanted, he hadn’t treated her as such. Hadn’t treated her as she’d gave up her right to respect when she’d bartered her purity.

When Y/N nodded, John moves in closer, placing his dense frame beside hers as he begins, unravelling her as if a present. Yearning, wondering of what held underneath the rippling drapes of the sleek fabric, his eyes gloss over her skin, thick fingers removing the straps of her dress, before reaching behind her to unzip the seams of her wear. Diminishing to her mid, her modesty falls perfectly plump on her chest, embellished in expensive lace. The swell of her chest leaves him feel the weight in his pants to harden, the sight of her cleavage, pursing together with hardened nipples. Unclasping the dainty hooks that shield her breasts from his prying gaze, John allows the thin textile to fall off, exposing her beautiful femininity; her breathtaking curves, soft, supple skin tender to the touch. His hands can’t seem to resist, callous palms moving in to roam the exquisiteness, thumbs swirling her tender nipples as he sighs, drinking her in.

“Stand up.” John’s voice demands, his own form staying placed at the foot of the bed as he instructs. Doing as told, she feels his warm hands tug at the seams of her dress, allowing the fabric to pool at her feet, leaving behind nothing but her lacy underwear covering what no one had indulged in before. Paired with pencil black heels, John takes a moment to devour the look of her stood in front of him; bare, voluptuous, almost entirely nude, causing a tent to rise in his pants. Without time to waste, his fingers intrude the skimpy cloth, gentle peeling her panties down, revealing all of her, solely, exclusively for his taking.

Had this not been an exchange where John owned her, he might have just fell prisoner to her mercy. Y/N was a beauty he’d never seen, mirroring a sex siren in her own right. The dips and curves of her frame mesmerise him, a gulp swallowed down his tight throat, a hefty palm unknowingly moving to palm his swollen cock through the fabric of his slacks. She bites her lip, vulnerable, never have being shown to anyone this way before.

John was the first to see her in all her glory, she finds herself moving shy hands to cover her form, nervous to the way he scans each inch of her body, as if memorizing it, keeping the sight locked away, stored within his gaze forever. “Gorgeous…” John’s voice whispers a gruff, two of his sturdy fingers moving to slick through her folds, palming her pussy as shivers tingle down her spine. She’d been trying her best to stay calm, to allow John to do as he pleased.

Right now, in this moment, her body rightfully belonged to him. He was permitted to do whatever he sought.

“I want you on your knees.” John explains firmly, connecting his bold gaze to hers and she nods, falling in front of his form sat on the silky sheets. Without a moment to waste, his hands trail down his zipper, throwing the expensively stitched slacks off his thighs to the floor, left in nothing but a pair of thin boxers. In a swift moment, his stocky fingers dip into the opening, allowing a hardened shaft to fall out in his grip, full, bursting balls to accompany.

She’d seen a man’s cock before; but John, John’s member was a sight to be seen. She swallows, intrigued by the grandeur, the rosy tip swollen, the thick veins that run up his length, a slight curve to its form. He offers himself a few measly tugs, dark eyes connecting to hers once again. “Do you want a safe word?”

A safe word. Perhaps if a word; a small, paltry word could save her from nonetheless being in this situation, she would have used it.

“No.” Her voice falls quiet, eyes diverted to the crème marble below. “If its too much, I’ll tell.” In the dim light of the room, a channel glow casts to her exposed skin; velvet and soft, making the plump of her mauve stained lips rouse John’s needy cock in desperate anticipation.

Without hesitation, John’s lust falls deeper, his throat tight, breath heavy.

Being with a woman, was something John felt had last happened centuries ago. Seeing her, stripped, uncovered, on her knees, keenly awaiting to be wrapped around his length; a fire burns in his belly. A hunger that rumbles across the surface, desperately ready to chase sweet, sweet relief, from her.

“Here,” John encourages, taking hold of his base with a loose grip. With his spare palm, his fingers thread into the locks of her hair, gently pulling her mouth closer. Slowly, firmly, his palm glides over the bottom of his shaft, beads of glossy pre cum quivering out the pink tip as he speaks. “Put those pretty lips on me.” Obliging, she nods, positioned between John’s thighs, nervous to the core.

She’d seen videos, heard people talk. But she’d never taken a man into her mouth before.

John would be the first, to feel her in every sinning way he pleased.

“Fuck,” John sighs through gritted teeth, feeling the warm haven of her lips circle around the thickness of his tip. Tightening on her tresses, his hand falls from his base, cupping hers in a gentle hold, before guiding it to replace his own. “Use your hands on what you can’t fit.” He instructs, walnut eyes darker, yet held with a certain sympathy.

A tenderness; mortality. “Move, baby.” John manages, eyes fluttering shut as his senses indulge, the feel of her tongue gently, kindly swirling his shaft take over. Gradually, his hand, laced within the locks of her hair guides her further down the bulk of his cock, forcing her to take a little more with each eager bob.

“Hallow your cheeks, darling.” John watches her intent, in awe with the way she learns so quick. “Eyes on me,” Practically sputtering into a pool of bliss, John’s deep baritoned words sear through her veins.

“Tighter.

Deeper.”

Drawn into his, her eyes pierce into his own earthy orbs, unknown to the throb of arousal growing in her core; John bought her for the evening. Was it sick of her to be…fascinated by him?

His room is simple. A suit jacket rests to the arm chair on the right, a barely touched bar of liquor to accompany. Little of him can be told from the depths of this room, perhaps he wasn’t here too often.

The folk of the Continental were scarce when not at work, leaving little trace of who they really were behind. She’d heard whispers of a man they called John Wick, she hadn’t been entirely unfamiliar to the dread he’d upheld within the sanctioned walls. Wick was a name that held fear to the tips of even the worst of sinner’s tongues; yet she finds herself far from. She wasn’t fearful of John Wick. She wasn’t scared of what he’d do.

As John urges her further, a choked gap emits her throat, eyes filling with a char of hot tears with his cock still shoved inside her mouth. Collecting herself, she keeps him inside, albeit, allowing some of him to fall out. “You’re alright.” John soothes, wiping escaped tears with his callous thumb. “You’re doing well.” With a nod, her movements commence, eager to find her pace again, free hands massaging his thick balls and veiny shaft that couldn’t accommodate in her mouth.

The sound of hallow gags and a mouth full of cock echo the room, throaty slickness and gasp for breath, John harshly praising her with a guide of pace. “Perfect. Fucking perfect.” A firm hand follows suit to her bare breast, palming, kneading the fleshy skin as her mouth words wonders on his sensitive skin. Without much notice, John’s eager hips buck impatiently into her mouth, so nonchalantly, a test of waters if you may.

If he had it his way, he would fuck her tiny mouth senselessly right then and there. Have her throat bruising, aching for days in his aftermath.

But John Wick isn’t a monster. John isn’t selfish.

Each time she comes down, slowly, cautiously, his swollen tip hits the back of her throat, threatening to venture further with each throb John’s bulge radiates inside. With his hips thrusting into her mouth lightly, John’s jaw tightens, goosebumps peppering his ink adorned skin. With his pace fastening, his primal desires barely cease; barely offer mercy when he pulls her head closer, wrapping his palms firmly to her head as he moves her head on his cock hastier, stiff, needier, causing srteams of sweltering tears to flow her soft cheeks as she tries her best to hold in her gags. Dangerously close to release, her head yankers back in John’s grip; strings of saliva webbing off her lips, connected to his tender shaft, allowing the bulk of his member to fall out, still erect to an intimidatingly large size.

He could have done with just her sinfully tight mouth; yet he wouldn’t. Tonight, he’d cum inside her. Tonight, he’d have something other than the lonesome grip of his sloppy hand for company; to extinguish that rummaging burn.

With a rise off the bed, John offers her a larger hand, eyes interlocked as she accepts, rising off the ground. His gravelly voice is low, Y/N’s unchecked tears and swollen lips leaving her a beautiful mess as John’s inquisitive gaze washes over her. What comes next, causes her breath to hitch; her insides searing, arousal growing wetter by the second.

With his rock hard cock digging into the skin of her stomach, she finds her self locked lips with John, who’s taken her in a sweet kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. The kiss personifies appetite, thirst, all things John craved in the moment. With his hand taking hers, deliberate movements guide her to the tall side of the bed, silky sheets and cotton pillows awaiting her arrival. His skin smells of cologne, something expensive, something sauvage. The taste of his heavy liquored tongue meddles with hers before letting go, lustful eyes encouraging her to lay down in the ripple of sheets. With his cock firm in his hand, he continues to offer himself a couple of strokes, a spare hand intruding into the hard oak nightstand to the side.

“Are you taking anything?” His voice flows through the room, heavy, shallow, adding clarification when her brows furrow. “For protection.”

Fiddling with her growing nervous fingers, she tenses, suddenly urged with the realization of what would come next. This was happening.

This was

really

happening.

John was going to fuck her. John, soon, would take that piece of her. This beautiful stranger, mysterious, yet intriguing, would make a part of her belong to him

forever.

“No sir.” She answers, eyes downcast, unsure of where to look as he preps himself. Fishing out a condom from the side drawer, the silver lining falls discarded somewhere on the marble floor along with the shambles of their clothes, mindlessly placed. “Lay down.” John tells, dimming the lights further, the curtains closed shut as night falls over the shadowy New York city horizon. She does as told, awaiting his body to accompany.

Her eyes find his back once again, watching delicate, cryptic ink that coats his broad skin in curiosity. A seemingly cross centers in the middle, an arrangement of words unknown to her cognizance bedecked along. As he finds himself crawling a top her sprawled figure, his hands guide her legs open further, hand palming her mound as she bites her lip. Slow, steady, he guides in the stock of two fingers, sensually slow, preparing her pretty cunt for his taking.

Coated with her silky arousal, his fingers gleam, a creamy mixture of her gloss glazed over his hand. Punctuated by her tender, soft, barely audible whimpers, a light chuckle emits John’s throat. “You don’t have to stay quiet.” He clears, fingers pumping slightly faster now, expertly judging her expressions. “Ever done this before?”

Y/N was a virgin; but no saint by any means. She’d touched herself before, even brought herself to orgasm on occasion. With a shy nod, she answers, punctuated by her own barely held together, soft moans to the feel of John’s much thicker fingers pulsing in and out of her. With the pad of his thumb, he works her clit, his hand arranging a beautiful symphony begging to fall off her lips.

The feel of John’s touch was nothing like her own, paired with the weight of his body on hers. As if habitually, her back arches, her toes curl, a whimper secreted when he draws his fingers out. With his heavy cock in hand, John lines himself up with her entrance, wanting nothing more than to be buried inside; to feel what she had to offer. With his enlarged tip rubbing over her clit, his voice registers barely in her ears, lost in the feel of him on her.

“Tell me to stop.” His gravelly voice reminds, assertion heavy on his tongue.

John was proving awfully hard to read. She appreciates the respect; the boundaries he was willing to set for her. She’d sworn, she could see a light of humility in him, contrasted, laced with dark need. If he wanted, she knew he could ruin her.

Without much warning, she feels his tip impend into her walls, sinking slow, stretched by his weight, her eyes widening noticeably when John’s girth pushes into her, cock widening her immensely.

She knew John’s member would be far larger than the feel of anything she’d felt before; yet perhaps she’d underestimated just how much larger it would feel. Plunging in further, a tight moan escapes John’s lips, drowning in further, slower, steadier, until he’s reached her end. Hissing at her tightness, he feels her clench around him, a breathy gasp of her own fleeing, nails sinking into the sheets in a fitted clasp.

Had the circumstances been different, he’d have asked her to hold onto him instead; maybe even let her burry her face in his neck as he works her body whole.

But that wasn’t what this was. This was merely an exchange. An agreement for him to get exactly what he needed;

mind blowing sex.

All John needed right now, was a rough, and good fuck to hold him over.

He stays still for a moment, feeling her cunt pulse around him, and her eyes shut tight, breathing measured as she relishes in the feel of him full, nestled inside her wet haven, before placing both sturdy hands on her hips in a strong hold. Rapt with desire, John’s primal instincts kick in, the feel of her welcoming pussy so perfectly mould to his cock; he’d sworn or a moment that she was perfectly, exclusively crafted just for him to fuck. With his hips picking up pace, John sucks in a sharp breath, a groan of pleasure to the way her heavenly walls tighten around him, tight, blissfully gratifying.

She can’t help but gasp, searing tears returning once again to the ungodly stretch. John burns inside, allowing her minimal time to adjust. His hips buck into hers, gradually picking up pace as he thrust deeper, harder, conjuring up an almost selfish pace.

She’d never felt anything like this before. The pain, the pleasure. The sinful pleasure of him practically splitting her inch by inch. His cock glides in and out her constricted entrance, and she practically whimpers; unsure of whether the moans signified pain, or immense pleasure.

It hurt, but in the best ways possible. His aggressive roll of hips only quickens, faster and faster until Y/N’s moans caged no more. Her lips longed to moan his name, scarcely able to keep her eyes open to see the way he pants above her figure.

With her breasts bouncing vigorously to his pace, John’s want only cultivates further. Watching his cock glide in and out of her sends him in a frenzy, the way she violently jerks with each movement, the sound of his balls smacking against her sweltering core give life to a filthy symphony of her stifled yelps and moans, blended religiously with his growls and throaty gruffs.

His eyes roll shut and he bites his lip, the sounds of her wetness bobbing him fill the room to his violent labour of hips, each time he sinks in and out. His cock glistens with her honeyed dew, her hand reverting over her mouth to confine a loud moan threatening to surface. Whimpering, she bites her arm in complete ecstasy, the feel of John throbbing, completely filling her whole becoming much.

John had been practically pounding her, minutes in. The feeling of having someone to spend the night with, left him far more aroused than he’d initially planned. Her legs tremble, gazing down to observe the way his load exits her cunt fully before slamming back in repeatedly, over, and over, and over, erratic imperative. With every nerve in her body threatening to snap, she relishes a moment to feel John inside.

John’s thickness is something she doesn’t think she’ll be able to forget. Each nerve, each throbbing vein, that curve of his shaft she witnessed earlier; his thrusts become urgent, cock twitching within, grinding vigorously to her g spot as his breathe lays hot, close to her skin. Ridged and rough, his fingers threaten to leave purple bruises peppering into her hips, his hold of her body immensely stiff, as if fearful of her disappearing. The bed below creeks, headboard assaulting the walls with profound hits to his demanding haste; she’s already sore from his massive size, and he hasn’t even finished yet.

“Fuck...you feel,” John’s deep voice, sultry and stiff surges her ears, rich as butter. “You feel fucking amazing, tighten up for me, darling.” He instructs, wanting to feel her milk his cock. She follows as told, squeezing her walls around him, squirming, wailing underneath his form. He pushes as much of himself in as possible and she screams, feeling a cocktail of their fusing released drip down her thighs. John looks delectable this way; beads of exertion peppered to his forehead, muscled skin sticking to hers, the smell of sex prominent around them as he continues pumping her relentlessly, senselessly. To a particularly rough thrust, her toes curl, arms coming around his shoulders to hold on dearly, tightly as he continues his rummage into her body. She holds tight, fingernails digging into his skin as grunts and ear-splitting moans intrude the atmosphere.

John is fucking her so well, so intense, that tears fall still, the raunchy sounds of skin slapping skin, enticing whispers of praise off his lips for her body only pushing her further. John feels his release close, lost in the tender haven she’d given him to spoil in, and he shudders; shivering, buried deep, deep inside her, the sounds of her wetness slicking his member echoing the walls. Within a few particularly lewd, unaltered thrusts, she screams his name, gasping, holding onto his biceps lifelessly as he quickens his pace, his own release not far behind.

He slams, harder, and harder, channeling an animalistic pace to her core, a rhythm of lust drunk pleasure imploring each inch of his body as he still deep, deep inside her pussy, spurting thick streams of sticky, glossing white cum into the dainty condom he’d worn. He stills for a moment, neither of them speaking; heaving sighs and rapid breaths as they come down from their highs, her limbs still securely wrapped around his frame. A joint euphoria; a paradise they’d created together. A creamy mixture of their releases drips to the satin sheets below, although John ceases to care.

Right now, in this moment, he finds himself truly, wholly

relieved.

He’d gone so long, so distant without sex. Without human touch, connection. With his cock still sheathed inside her warm harbour, he sighs, relishing even in the feel of her holding him.

And a moment passes, then another; and another. With his weight rested on shaky palms to the bed sheets on either side of her, John sighs, panting, watching the way she swallows a lump in her throat; beads of vapour dotted to her glistening skin.

Gorgeous, he thinks.

She’s got those pretty eyes, satin skin. She felt surreal. He’d seen the stars buried inside her.

Slow and steady, John moves, allowing his flaccid member to slip out her warm hold. The sun has fully set, and the moonlight barely filters in through the slits of opaque curtains. With a towel retrieved, one he’d set aside prior to their session beside the bedframe, he finds place back, next to her worn out frame.

John had fucked her so good, so hard, she’d worn her legs may just give out in any attempt of rising on her feet. Relishing, sunken into the mattress as she watches him move calm, collected, the feel of John cleaning what he’s left behind off her womanhood causes the softest of blush to intrude, peppering her skin. With the condom discard, John’s hoarse voice rasps, breaking the still of long endured silence. “You’re alright?” He probes, watching the way she sits up on the bed, the threads of the duvet he’d spent countless nights burrowed in alone fixed in her grip, pulling it over her bare breasts, covering herself from his chocolate gaze.

She’s shyer now than before, after sex bliss stippled over her skin, her pussy sore from the action. The emptiness John had left ached. She’d be reminded of the mysterious man with painted skin for days;

prompted by what story his back really told.

What intrigued her so much, about the man who’d taken her in the filthiest of ways.

“Did I hurt you?” He inquires, and she’d sworn the way he looks at her…the way his eyes glaze over her features, as if watching so intently her every move, a symphony flows inside her, coursing that acquainted boil in her stomach. Nodding her head, no, she watches him pull on a pair of long forgotten boxers, opting himself a seat to the edge of the bed as she stays put. Despite having just had had sex with him, she finds herself nervous to be exposed to his eyes again; a dire side effect of the toll his handsomeness had truly taken on her.

She finds herself, tense. Intimidated by his grandeur.

A story writes itself, a tale that brews in the depth of their minds. Racing a mile a minute, he’d known. And perhaps she had too; that the sex had been far too good.

Dangerously good.

The words brew on the tip of his tongue, yet he finds himself cautious of their release. Would he be awful for thinking these thoughts? Was he soiling her, tainting her for his selfish needs, thinking of the dirtiest fate he could try her; propose to her before she’d be gone.

A fuck this good doesn’t come easy, and John wasn’t looking for romance. Love was something he’d forgotten a long time ago, wasn’t sure he’d been worthy of such a thing.

;yet he’d found her. Someone who could take care of his physical needs; someone he could use for that intimacy he too, direly needed. Had lacked for years, finally tasting it, within her.

The way she felt was something John would find himself struggling to forget. The warm, wet, deliciously slick feel of her welcoming cunt; John hadn’t had someone as good as her. She’d ruined it for him. Nothing had compared. No one had taken care of his cock the way she’d done in a meagre 30 minutes.

He’d request. He’d propose. He’d bargain her an even exchange.

With a gruff crisp in his throat, his guttural voice catches her by surprise. Under the duvet, her naked skin flushes to a warm, temperate ease. Fulfilled, relaxed, riding high on sex satisfied clouds, tingles still felt within each snapping nerve of her skin. His tone is calm, collected; upheld with dominance.

She delighted in his dominance. “I want to offer you.” He begins, a hand placed on his bare thigh. “A contract. For your services.”

Services. Bold of him to assume, this was something she’d planned on doing for more men. “An offer…?” Her tongue seeps, the words a quiet, barrel mumble to his proposition. In the barely lit room, her inquisitive eyes glow; a familiar glow to the way they’d shone, glossy. When his cock had been rammed deep down her tight throat.

“A contract.” He repeats, professionally. “I want you. Again.” His tone finds a quiver building within her core, her thighs longing to be wrapped around his waist, the way they dripped control, power. “I’ll pay you, generously.” He nods, eyebrows raised, a gaze to her smaller body buried in his sheets. “But when I need you, you come. No questions, no excuses.” He adds, studying her form, the way her brows furrow, lost in the aftermath of his words.

“You’ll be mine to use. For the duration of the contract.”

His. She could be

his.

Racing a mile, a minute, her thoughts haze, the rush of adrenaline, the weight of his proposition thick in a fog on her brain. Her senses tense, her thoughts freeze. The sight of him catches her lost.

His. To belong to the man, with the muscled back and bold tinted ink. The man who’d fucked her pornographically. Her cluster of deliberations interrupts with his thick voice, velvety, rich. “I’ll let you sit on it.” He offers, standing, the crisp white dress shirt he’d peeled off his frame earlier back in his sturdy grip as he drapes it on. “I need to take care of some business with the manager. I’ll be back within the hour.” Buttoning the top, coffee hued locks curtain his face, his perfectly groomed beard in perfect contrast with the lighter fabric; the bulge of his toned arms protruding at the textile. “And when I’m back,

I’ll be expecting another round.

Have yourself ready, please.”

And with those piercing words, he dresses himself, leaving her bare, exposed, in his bed.

A promise to come back for more left behind.

A demand, for more when he’d be back.

John wasn’t looking for love. John made it clear. This was physical. Something to quench his every longing need.

The ring of the door shut, the buzzing New York traffic below. She sits, decision tense on her mind.

John Wick, was her first.

And he, wanted her to be his last.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

part 2

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sunfloweroranges · 3 years

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𝕄𝕪 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 ℕ𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕊𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕜𝕖

𝙰/𝙽

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎!!

𝙱𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜!

𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚋 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 @ryosmne 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 -> 𝕊𝕒𝕗𝕖 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖

𝙼𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗!

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸.𝟻𝚔

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎/𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚣𝚊/𝚖𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊, 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏??

𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕤𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕜𝕖 (𝕃𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕦𝕤 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕤)

is a large songbird species in the shrike family (Laniidae) native to North America and Siberia. Long considered a subspecies of the great grey shrike, it was classified as a distinct species in 2017. Six subspecies are recognised.

Also known as butcherbirds, loggerhead and northern shrikes leave a culinary horror show in their wake. Both species regularly impale prey — often still alive — on spikes, thorns, or barbed wire, and leave them there for days or weeks...

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Soft rumble of an engine died down, a click then a creak, car belts were taken off and doors opened. The wet concrete crunched as two pairs of feet got out of the vehicle.. The air was crisp and bone shatteringly cold, but it didn’t stop the figures from wearing inappropriately thin clothing, definitely unsuited for this weather, just after a heavy rainfall at 2am. Their breaths left their lips and noses in small huffs of steam, the car lights blinked when a blonde haired male locked it. The outside of this motel was.. shitty, like all motels in this ditched area, the slums as most locals would call it, somehow close and yet on the outskirts of the big city. Illuminated by a few half working lamps, all had a different colored light bulb in it, one more yellow other looked almost green, a definite eyesore..

The blond offered his hand, and the h/c haired figure accepted hooking their arms together, their strides synchronized as they made their way to the only different door, which had windows installed in the top half, that were half covered by frilly covers anyway, this was different as other doors were full wood and the only window was on the left side of each one, which were barred over with metal rods with chipped paint and rust over their surface. The smaller figure waited as the blond opened the door causing some ridiculous old beaver plushy to play an off note tune on its dying batteries, while shaking from side to side, on the small table, covered in newspapers and magazines from 2 decades ago..

With a huff the two figures walked beside the building, a balcony corridor of the 2nd floor provided a roof for the bottom one, the pillars supporting it were just as shitty as the rest of the motel, the paint cracked, some were even cracked from the inside, the concrete crumbling from the sides, weeds grew from the cracks near the ground or between the old, dirty and in some places even missing tiles, in front of every door was a different garden bench, the plastic ones were overrun by spiders, lost their colorful vibrance and some were cracked, missing armrests or back supporting ribs.

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The two figures entered the lit up room, all cluttered and mismatched, with wooden panels going 3/4ths up the wall in a disgusting, over glossed orange, the rest of the wall was a faded gray green, and the ceiling yellowed over white, most probably because of the countless cigarettes the clerk seemed to smoke without a care in the world. With a soft thud the blond set down a bag he was carrying and looked to the woman which just then lazily looked up from her newspaper from today, between her manicured fingers of her left hand rested a crooked half smoked cigarette, on the top of the counter rested an ashtray shaped like a seagull sitting on top of the bowl, which was overfilled with cigarette butts.

“A single room for two, single bed” The blonde spoke, his tone dry but not hostile, just, neutral, his sharp eyes gazed to the clerk, who sighed and motioned to one of the few signs, hung up on the mismatched wall, ironically there was a sign forbidding smoking in the rooms, but the one the clerk meant was one that in big red and black letters said ‘This is a MOTEL not a SEX hotel’. “We came to have a one night’s rest.” The e/c eyed figure spoke up from beside the blonde “Name?” The old woman croaked, her lips were covered in some shitty, pink, glitter lipstick, that cracked with each letter that left her mouth.

“Nanami.” As this name fell from the blondes mouth the clerk looked up, her body definitely stiffened, this name was known, especially here, yakuza- The woman’s eyes wandered, seeing the tattoos peaking from under Kento’s collar, the figure beside him too, now their eyes wandered on the littered messy walls, looking with disgust, but there were tattoos on their neck too. The clerk swallowed a little before looking to her old box computer, signing in the two for a free room, she reached over to a small plastic container, which once was transparent, but now it was clouded yellow from the cigarette smoke. She pulled out a key with 116 number on it and set it on the counter.

With the sound of the creepy beaver plush fading the two made their way upstairs, to the floor above to their room which was far from the reception side and the staircase. Nanami held his arm hooked with y/n while his other hand was occupied with the bag over his shoulder and the key in his fingers. The two walked in silence, they had a reason to be here and not in Nanami’s quarters in the big comfortable bed. Y/n glanced to the man beside them and gave him a small smile, their eyes flickering to their room number for a moment before stopping.

The atmosphere felt tense now, instead of unwelcoming, the clerk definitely knew not to fuck with these people, especially under that name. “Its 1540 ¥ a night for a room.” She spoke her tone wasn’t too stuck up anymore too. Y/n found it amusing, their e/c eyes scanned the messy walls, with posters, newspaper cutouts, offers to buy or sell, rules etc. nothing seemed interesting, but they listened calmly to the exchange, when the keys jingled in Kento’s hand y/n looked over sparing the clerk but a glance, one that froze the woman in her tracks once more, the mischievous fox like glance and a smirk would be burned into the clerks head for a while..

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As a pair of strong hands rummaged through the bag on his lap, a certain someone sneaked their arms around the blonds waist, their smile never fading, a little mischievous, their gaze sharp as they glanced towards one of the windows seeing the smallest of blinks, someone was watching. Their lips parted and leaned to the soft skin between Nanami’s neck and ear whispering, their words unreadable from lip reading as they tilted their head just enough to inconvenience whoever tried to peek at them. “They’re watching..” they whispered pulling on an act, having just a bit too much experience in this field with the blond, their hands explored his chest, unbuttoning a few top clasps of his shirt, reviling just a bit more of the big tattoo covering his back, one that only lucky survived seeing in its full glory.

Nanami opened the door and stepped aside for the other, just for his lips to be captured in a kiss, making his eyes widen for a moment, just before he let out a satisfied hum. With that the blonde was pulled inside of the tiny, sucky room, the door behind them shutting with a dull thud. Y/n pulled away as soon as the door shut with a small cocky smile tugging their lips, Nanami loosened his tie a little more than the figure before him did “Remember what we’re here for.” His words were simple, earning a nod and a smile yet again, but this one was hunting, a smile with a dangerous glint, one that always entranced the blond, who took the smaller hand in his and kissed it softly, before leading them to the bed.

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With the only light lit in the room being the bedside lamp, small and shitty providing a dim orange light and even flickering once, the space was dark, dark enough for the two to carry out what they wanted, prepared, the bag was there for a reason after all. In a smooth motion, the blond turned, dropping the bag and caging the e/c eyed figure underneath himself, with a smooth move his hand traced up from their elbow to their palm, placing a cold handle in their hand and gripping it there for a moment as they carried out their act.

Y/n felt the adrenaline rush through their veins as their black kimono was slipped off of their shoulders and dropped aside, their lips briefly parting from the blond, their left arm wrapped around the broad shoulders of a man above them, his hair messy, falling in thin strands over his forehead. If this mission failed, this would be the last time they would see Nanami like this. Y/n chuckled breathily at the sweet nothings the blond whispered between the kisses. Their right hand gripping a cold metal handle, feeling of material wrapped in an intricate pattern under their fingertips, this was to be a quiet one, no guns, knowing who the enemy was, the dark colored blade didn’t even reflect light.

As the sound of the shower accompanied the constant buzz of the shitty lights and the sound of a shitty small fan inside the bathroom, another sound joined after a moment, the sound of the door, these unlocked front door, left just for that one, special masked figure which slipped inside, with a knife prepared in their shaking hand, this person was afraid, petrified, after all their target was Nanami Kento himself, the head of the second biggest yakuza around, the boss himself, the one with a golden tiger on his back.. As the masked figure entered, the blond haired yakuza sat, shirtless, on the bed, his hands held together and elbows leaning on his knees, his eyes sharp looking to his assassin.

They waited for the right moment, that moment that came soon enough, an engine, a crunch of the concrete and gravel, then the dull thud of the closed doors. This was a small signal, Y/n got up from the bed, not without a few kisses here and there, they grabbed a towel hiding their right hand and went to the bathroom, Nanami was left alone, he felt the gaze on his back, if their suspicions were wrong, he would drop dead in a second, shot from a nearby building, but that didn’t happen.. yet.

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The silver blade reflected the dim orange light, Nanami could see his warped image in the curved metal, which surely was covered in some kind of poison, it was the Orochi yakuza assassin, known for their poisoned blades. The bright blue eyes peaked out from under the mask, this being the only distinctive feature of the figure, which loomed closer, a soundless step after another “Your partner will find you drowning in your own blood-“ The figure spoke, their voice surprisingly kept together, seeping with venom, the blonds brow twitched, he knew all too well why he was targeted.

His dark eyes lingered on the assassin, who gripped the blade tight in their hand, their bright blues searching around Nanami, his hands, the bed, in case any weapon was around, they were to kill the boss and leave in one peace, a simple mission, yet something felt off. With one more step, Kento felt the nerves arise, Y/n was taking their time, he needed his little songbird, he gave up the only weapon he had to his sweet shrike. Now completely defenseless, Nanami felt the creeping doubt arise in the back of his head, but on the outside not a muscle twitched, his dull eyes almost unblinking looked into the one that could potentially bring him death.

A thud, the sound of the shower became louder as the creaking door flung open, the blue eyes catching but a glance of h/c as the figure took a leap, a black matte blade in their hands smoothly gliding between the left ribs of the black clad figure, a disgusting squelch sounded, then a guttural gasp and then, crimson, red blood seeped from under the black mask, the poisoned blade falling to the ground with a soft pad against the carpet. Y/n’s lips curled into a sadistic smirk, the shock, the fear and then the grimace of pain, agony, they found something so entrancing in these moments, their hands gripped the long katana handle twisting it one side then the other before dropping the body.

The figure still tried to fight, move their hand towards the blade, but this was met with a snap, a crunch of bones beneath a heavy boot of y/n’s, their gaze sharp, finding amusement in this kind of play, but there was no time to play, Nanami looked to the h/c haired figure and got up, grabbing their clothing, his shirt, y/n’s kimono, and setting them on a chair “Hurry up and die already~” Their voice purred as they crouched down to the groaning in agony figure, the blood spilling, staining the shitty carpet quickly. Y/n grabbed the poisoned blade and smirked, their hand grabbing over the assassins’ forehead, using the blade they pulled up the mask, just a little, a tattoo of a snake on the right side.

Nanami watched calmly as the sound of skin cut and blood splattering filled the room, the blood gushed out in pumps staining y/n’s hand and the blade, the room too, but it didn’t change much, it probably wasn’t ever cleaned anyway. They got up, gripping the masked head in their blood stained hand, they walked up to the window and held the head up, seeing once again, the blink of reflection, the deed was done. The blonde walked up to the h/c haired figure, a smile so small yet present tugged on his lips. His right hand rested on the bloodied figures waist, his left hand gently turned y/n’s head by their chin, his thumb, rough, lacking fingerprints, these carved out years ago, wiped a droplet of blood from their cheek.

His dark eyes flickered to the watcher, seeing the glint too, his gaze went back to his partner, which still held the head up to the window, just for a moment longer before lowering their trophy, the body behind them still bleeding out, impaled on the long black blade through its heart. Nanami kissed their cheek, where a small stain of blood was left “You’ve ruined your clothing.. But you finished your mission.” The male spoke between a few smaller pecks, trailing to their lips, there he placed a lingering sweet kiss, his hand trailing to their hair and gently brushing through the strands “My sweet Northern Shrike..”

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@ryosmne @love-amihan @falling4fandoms

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#𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝔹𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕪ℂ𝕚𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕤𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕤 #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nb reader #nanami x nb reader #mafia nanami #yakuza nanami #jjk au

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

Family Drama

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult Situations +18, Smut, Daddy Kink, Swearing, Angsty, Infertility, Bullying

A/n:wow so this has been written for about three weeks, I honestly was never going to post it , a little to close to home ,but wrighting it made me feel better and it might make someone else feel better abput certain topics, this was hard to write but I do hope you enjoy it

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @thatgirly81

You introduce your new boyfreind to your family but a spiteful sister tries to ruin what you and Henry have.

Family Drama

You were nervous. You'd been in a relationship with Henry for four months now but had kept it quiet, wanting to have a stong relationship before letting the media know. Especialy now that that it had been leaked that he was going to be playing Superman again he seemed to be under more media scrutiny.That being said you'd both let your family closest to you know that you were seeing people. But for you you'd only told your mum she knew how you'd met and she knew he was an actor but that was it. Not that you didnt trust her because you did two peas in a pod no it you'd left out his surname so that she couldnt let it slip to your older sister. Your very jealous ,entitled ,narrsasistic older sister. The problem was that you'd been invited to your brothers yearly birthday bbq in a few days. You hadnt mentioned it to Henry yet worried it was too soon for all the family drama that could correction would come of it. You sighed sitting in his living room snuggling with kal as henry took a shower hed just come back from a run determined to get in better shape for his new role kal lounged across you reciveing a veriaty of hugs and kisses. Henry entered the living room in a loose shorts and tshirt damp hair hanging low on his forhead. Taking a seat next to you pullingnyour legs and kal to rest on his legs one hand stroking your calf his smiled faltered when he took in your thoughtfull face.

"You ok hun?" He said as his brow furrowed you leaned your head back on the sofa looking at him running your hand casually through kal's fur.

"Its my brothers birthday this weekend he's having a bbq" you heaved a big sigh as he listened intently as you continued

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to go or not it might be to early for that" you mumbled more to yourself than anything. His eyes widened as he realized what you were getting at. you'd told him about your family how you and your mum were super close and one of a kind, you got on well with your brother Dean fine having shared interests. Then there was your sister Camille, your both very different people and you found it hard to get along with her ,bottom line is she was the youngest spoilt princess untill you were born 10 years after her and she never forgave you for it. He nodded to you knowing how hard it was between the both of you.

"I'd love to go I've been thinking of asking to meet your family, I know we decided to take is slow but I love you and this is the real deal." He said relaxing and worrying you at the same time.

"Really? You don't mind? Even though you know theres going to be drama? and my nieces and nephews are probably going to call you superman?" since dating him you thought it'd be a good idea to watch a few of his films and could kick yourself for not recognising him from a few. He squeezed your leg reasuringly "I dont mind I want you know I'm there for you and I love you" he said leaning over kal kissing you lightly before ushering him off so he lie over you as the kiss got heated resulting in him resting between your thighs as he rocked deliberatly against you before running kisses down your neck.

"How do you feel about showing up to the party with a few of my marks?" You giggled at that slapping his arm lightly.

"You know sometimes I wonder when my shy sweet man turned into a horndog?" resting over you on his hands leaning in stealing kisses before sucking deep marks on your neck nudging your tshirt to the side leaving another between your neck and collar bone you moaned lightly as he rubbed against your mound chuckling into your shoulder.

"Sounds like I'm not the only horndog" he said grinding harder against you letting you feel him hardening you pouted.

"Hey don't steal my thunder" he leaned up off you before pulling of his top. No matter how many times you saw him he still took your breath away especially since he was determined to bulk up more befor filming. Your heat clenched in anticipation as he made a show of flexing his muscles throwing away his tshirt. He wasted no time tugging the bottom of your shirt over your head dragging your sports bra with it leaving his eye blown wide as he drank in the sight of you bare before him. Licking his lips as he dived in kissing and suckling at your breast then teasingly rolled your nipples between his teeth, you bucked up into him moaning making him groan low in his chest your smugness didnt last long tho as he flipped you over onto your knees below him leaning forward you grabbed the arm of the sofa for leverage. You loved how he could manoeuvre you any way he liked. You giggled then slid back rubbing your ass along his prominent bulge then made small circular motions tormenting him as you rocked forward and back he hissed grabbing your hips holding you still against him befor a heavy palm slapped your ass.

"Little brat" he growled then ran his fingers against your slit as your enterance wept in anticipation, you gripped arm of the sofa tighter between your fingers moaning loud as he continued teasing your wet opening. He arched over you chest flat against your back and used one hand to pull your hair tilting your head back the other tore your shorts and panties down your thighs.

"Think you can tease me and get away with it missy?" He grunted in your ear leaving wet open mouthed kisses on your neck biting hard and sucking again as he shimmied his shorts down just enough to pull out his cock rubbing his weeping head against your clit tapping it harshly making you squeel as your arousal seeped onto him you cried out as he drew lines along your pussy lips he pushed forward nugding the fat head of his cock to your opening teasingly withdrawing before repeating the movement moveing deeper.

"Fuck please Henry please dont tease I'm sorry" you gasped out when he kissed your cheek and pushed in to you slowly savouring the feel of your walls clench him tightly sucking him in deeper you always felt imposibly full as his hips rested flush against you the head of his cock resting snug against your cervix you moaned out loud when he began rocking the veins on his cock massaged your walls with delicious friction he leaned back hand still pulling your head back. Before grinding against your clit and curving his hips forceing you to arch your back following his movment up you grunted out a moan.

"Ready baby?" You nodded using what little slack he had given you on your hair. "Fuck yes oh god please" you whined looking back up at him eyes glazed over he pulled his hips back snapping them forward not hesitating he set a brutal pace driving you wild.

"Fucking little tease! You think its a good idea to tease daddy?" You whined at the back of your throat shaking your head as he spanked you again

"I asked you a question bratt!" You cried out as his palm struck you again

"N-no daddy I'm sorry daddy please please let me cum please" he grunted out a laugh at your desperate plee you hissed at the slight pain of him bumping against your cervix. He released your hair choosing to wrap his fingers around your throat tight enough to restict your pants pausing he set one foot flat on the floor and pulled you back towards him with one hand then returned to his punishing pace, with every thrust tilting his hips up slightly the new angle made you see star as he was brushing your swollen clit.

"God you take me so well baby girl fuck your still so tight" you opend your mouth in a silent scream tucking your head down as you trembled your pussy clamping down on him uncontrollably.

"Oh fuck I'm close so close" he breathe down your back moving his hand down between your legs to flick at your clit harshly pinching it that was all it took you squeeled loud as you came around him in violent tremors thrusting into you before holding still grunting loud as he peaked inside of you grinding against you determined to make your joint orgasms last, you whimpered as you felt him pour into you, both heaving deep breaths. He breathed out a laugh releasing you patting your hip as he sat down dragging your limp body onto his lap relaxing and pulled your panties back up over your hips keeping his seed smeard against you for as long as he could, you'd found that he was quite a possesive man and was throughly turned on knowing he was smeard between your thighs. He turned your face kissing you passionately before running his hand down your neck smirking Traceing the three love bites he had left two on yout neck one above the other and the thrid on your collar bone you smiled giggling at him when he picked you up heading towards the bedroom knowing that there was atleast one more round instore today and probably a few more tonight.

You rung your hands together today was the day you'd let your family know that you were bringing someone to the bbq your mum was thrilled to finally put a face to the man who'd made you so happy, Dean seemed happy that you'd found someone and Camille, well she was less than thrilled she prefered that you'd remain single so she could rub her new husband and son in your face and make offhanded comments about how you'd never find a husband like she had. Not that you wanted what she had, a childish husband that refuses to get a job to provide for his family and was creeepy enough to make your skin crawl. He was a boy you wanted a man.You sighed checking your phone again Henry was supposed to pick you up but had to take a call about delays to the filming schedule now you were going there with your mum and Henry was going to arrive a little late. You forced a smile as your mum pulled up beside you quickly leaving your house warnkng your babies to be good. She noticed you were a little tense.

"Whatever happens just remember he loves you Y/n and he is there for you" you nodded

"I know I'm just nervous I hope you like him" she smiled before pulling away from the curb

"I've seen how happy he makes you trust me I'll love him" she reassured you in only a way a mother could. Then raised an eyebrow at your neck you blushed as you knew what she was looking at.

"Not sure how your brothers going to react to his baby sister smothered in those" you groaned leaning back into the seat as she laughed

"Didn't think of that... it was his idea and I can't exactly stop him or want to if I'm Honest" she snorted at that. It was a short drive to Dean's house you were greeted by an entourage of excited nieces and nephews quickly wrestling each of them for kisses and cuddles before following them into the garden as they made a bee line to the trampoline you heard a scoff.

"Thought you were bringing someone? I was quiet looking forward to meeting your mysterious other half" dripping with sarcasm you ignored her and sat down across from her calling out a greeting to Dean who was cooking at the built in bbq he waved the spatular.

"He had to take a call about rearranging the flights" you replied not wanting to ignore her completly and rock the boat already. You felt eyes on you and realised that your sister in law had clocked onto your neck.

"Oh someones been getting it, I'm looking forward to meeting him you've been together what three months?" she teased plafully you got on well with her and was closer in age. You blushed beet red befor pulling out your phone as you recived a text it was Henry telling you he was 10 minutes away turn out he was just being told his new flight dates you smiled and left it on the table. You nodded at her Camille sneered but caught herself plastering a kind looking smile.

"Yeah I dont understand why you kept it quiet. Your not embarrased of him are you?" She asked bitingly you frowned as you poured yourself a lemonade sipping it collecting yourself before answering

"No I'd never be embarrassed of him. But we thought we would take it slow and see where it goes befor diving right in" she chuckled sipping her drink as you said his name.

"He's an actor isn't he? so what is he one of those actors that works on indie films? Or a proper actor? would I have seen him in anything? is one of those 'actors' always in the background" You growled a little as she laughed then you smirked at this looking at her scrawny husbands arms both covered in dc sleeve tattoos Camille may not recognise him but her husband definatly would.

"Yeah maybe ,he has been in quite a few things, tv show and some big blockbusters." You leaned forward drinking a few mouthfuls to hide a smirk ,today you were going to finally shut her up the greatest revenge for all her years of tearing you down was proving her wrong. She had spent so long since you grew up knockjng you back drummjng into you that no one would ever want you that it had caused a few problems with Henry in the beginning, it had taken a lot of convincing but finally you were happy and confident that someone did want you and he was incredible. Today was the day you could be a little smug.

"Well he can't be that big of a deal if he is with you now can he?" She giggled hoisting her son up onto her lap coddling him, you frowned.

"Well he is working on a big one now, a sequel" she snorted again taking a sip of her wine.

"Really?" You clenched your fists in irritation wanting to defend your man

"Yes he works for dc" her husband looked up smiling

"Really? Dc comics?" You smiled leaning back knowing his intrest would push her buttons you nodded.

"Yeah not sure how much I can say tho, but thats what the phonecalls are about today, something came up with one of his costars so they have had a change in the dates he is just getting the new flight details" he nodded smileing you could see he was excited tdying to think of who it was, you wont say you want it to be a shock as childish as that was, you had a good smart god of a man and you wanted to show him off, rub him in your sisters face. You smiled as Camille started sneering even tho your still nervous your brother came over to the table placing down a large tray of sausages burgers and chicken kababs.

"Wheres your other half?" he said as everyone dug in you smiled accepting a plate off one of you nieces who was diligantly passing them out you quickly caled her as she made to go past you.

"Lotty can I have another one darling?" She nodded confused but still handed you one. You turned to your brother

"He'll be here in a minute, he had a work thing that couldn't wait." He nodded "Wana explain them before he gets here?" He nodded to your neck teasing you as he piled his plate. You blushed

"Uh haha well we got a little carried away after his workout this morning....I'd rather not say more then that." You said quietly helping yourself to a burger and some salad. He smirked at you ruffling your hair

"Finally growing up eh? Just be safe" You slapped his had away with a quiet fuck off the banter was cut short as your sister scoffed.

"Be safe not like shes gonna get pregnant" you stopped smileing hurt by the comment as she chose that moment to hug her eighteen month old son, it was true you couldnt but she didn have to be such a bitch about it, she saw you as less of a woman now, her view was a woman wasnt a true woman if she did not have children, an ideal that she had spent her whole life wrapped around a desperate need for a baby and somehow she was better than you because she had a baby and you were never going to, and never missed a chance to remind you that you'd never be 'complete' as she puts it, never find someone who'd stay with you when they found out children was not an option for you, it had been confirmed you pretty much couldn't have kids there was the a very very very slim chance youd ever conceive, so low youd been told to think of yourself as barren and in the miracle that you did fall pregnant you probably wouldnt carry to term, since then she had made sure to beat you down with it, it was still a fresh wound a difficult thing for any woman to accept but your not even in your thirties which somehow made it even worse, not that you planned any kids, you actually never wanted them it was always 'maybe one day' but there is a difference between choosing not to have them and being told you can't.

"Why the fuck have you gotta bring that up like that for?! Stop being such a bitch about it!" Your brother came to your defence she slid back cradeling the toddler smugly. Suddenly any argument brewing was halted by the door bell you shoke your head making to move but moved faster when you heard a loud array of shouts and yells of excitment from the house your eyes bugged out as your older nephews ran out of the back door dragging Henry behind them.

"Look look its Superman! Dad dad look he knows aunty Y/n" Silence fell across the table as the kids made a fuss over Henry who was starting to chuckle nerously.Your brother in law gapped at Henry dropping his fork your brothers wife rose her eyebrows then tilted her head nodding saying 'you did well' Camille was just blinking, she looked broken .

"Oi what have I told you about opening that front door to strangers?" Your brother broke the silence scolding his son david who replied naively.

"But hes not a stranger, its Superman, hes not bad, he's a good guy."

"Hey babe turns out I was only 5 away." He chuckled as david watched in awe as 'superman' leaned in and kissed you on the lips then held his hand out to Dean. "Im Henry ,sorry I'm late-" he snapped his head down as david and tyson clambered around him pulling at his top a little

"Oh my god auty y/n are you dateing superman!?!"

"Are is he gonna be our uncle? Are you going to marry her?"

"Can you take me flying? What does it feel like?" Henry chuckled at the boys as they practically vibrated with excitement. Henry nodded down at the boys

"Well boys we aren't getting married yet but we are dating, but I dont think your mum will like me flying around with you yet, maybe when your older?" they smiled at Henry then continued asking him tonnes of questions soon all of the kids were surronding him you smiled apologetically but he just laughed answering all their questions, playing along for them not wanting to upset them after a few mineuts the excitment died down and they were ushered back to the smaller table to have lunch by their parents, he rubbed the back of your neck quickly reassuring you before stopping near your brother who shrugged.

"Sorry about the kids..."

"Its perfectly fine,I get it all the time ...I'm just happy I've made a good impression on some of y/n family at least, sorry for being late I had to reschedule a few flights and stuff" they shook hands.

"Dean her brother, and don't worry about it works work and its good your serious about it, a better first impression than some" he replied casting your sisters hunsband a look that no one missed as Henry sat down beside you placeing an arm across your shoulders. Kissing the side of your head.

"So you gonna introduce me love?" He asked motioning around the table everyone Camille release her husbands hand batting at him as he reached out for her thrusting her son at him then placed one hand in her lap and leant over the table holding out her hand as if he should kiss it giving him sultry eyes trying to entice him.

"Im Camille y/n's older sister" she said fluttering her eyelashes at him you tensed knowing what she was doing. Henry grasped her offered hand and shook it. Causing your mum to snort a laugh into her glass and others to chuckle. Camille has done this before, the only other serious relationship you had ended cos of arguments about how he acted with her, tho back then she wasn't married. Pulling back Henry smiled at her and casually ran his fingers across your lovebite riddled neck, then pulled you in placing another kiss to it making you giggle pushing him away, but he fought a little capturing your hands kissing your palms. You smiled as she clenched the hand he shook into a fist before lowering it beside her plate. Henry was a master of posessive gestures but she had got the message

"Nice to meet you. And this is your husband?" He said politely charming voice. She bristled as she watched him tuck you into his side leaning back watching as her husband shook his hand and started kissing his ass, she slumped back huffing and levled her man with a look making him sit back and let you finish introduceing him to everyone happy that your man had your back.

"So the kids called you Superman? I dont think I've seen your version, I'm sure I'd have remembered seeing you in a tight suit" she dropped her voice and twiddled with her straw her husband gulped

"I have been trying to get you to watch it with me but you said you don't do nerdy shit" he spoke upand you giggled as she gapped flstered, Henry just smirked tugging holding your leg beneath the table patting it softly as you tensed.

"Well thats a shame tho I know that heros aren't evenyones thing, But yes I've played superman in man of steel and soon we will be filming Batman vs Superman so I'm excited for that" you giggled

"And I for one am definitely looking forward to that" he laughed out loud poking your side

"And I wonder why?" You giggled at him

"Well I'm looking forward to getting the bed to myself for a few weeks" he shook his head

"Like you sleep on the bed? Babe you sleep on top of me I dont think youve touched the mattress...wait scratch that I know you have~" you stuttered as the others rolled their eyes chuckling you slaped his arm lightly as he joined in wriggling his eyebrows at you, you noticed from the side of your eye Camille moved closer to him, leaning over the table fluttering her eyes and squeezing her chest to show off her assets, you cringed biting your lip as he gave her a smile and cleared his throat look then cast his gaze to you, you must have taken his smile as the wrong way as you looked down he sighed moving his hand up your thigh then leaned in to you whispering in your ear

"And this is why you should have let me cum in your panties before you left, it would have been a reminder that you are mine, the only one for me, but I suppose we will just have to remember next time" he parted from your ear with a quick but very noticable nip on your ear lobe you shuddered blushing bright red looking at him bashfully before he plucked a cherry tomato from your plate winking as he popped it in his mouth.

"So your stepping into the role again? can't wait for that?" Your brother in law said enthusiastically Your sister fumed quietly to herself watching as Henry had snubbed her for you, she didn't know what he had said but it was something that made you embarrassed he wiped his mouth with a napkin as he nodded.

"Yeah filming starts in a few months.... now anyway which reminds me babe you need to sort out your passport" you blinked at him

"What? why?" He grinned at you

"Well I know how much you liked the last suit so I did some talking to the director and you my love have been invited on set for a few weeks....So we need to get your passport sorted I was hopeing to take you with me, they said it'd be fine for you to bunk with me and Kal for a few weeks if your up for it" you furrowed your brows

"You told them I like the suit?! You-really Henry?" He gave you a cheeky grin

"Well I didnt say the words but... he knew what I meant" you gave him a look and sighed shaking your head at him, deep down he was a child

"Seriously their okay with that? You wont mind me on set I mean your going to be busy" He smiled nodding quickly

"Yes Id love to have you there, we do that sometimes have our other halves come over to see us work for a while, youll get to see some of the filming and meet the others, we can spend a few nights in a hotel to if you want you know go about town anyway they gave me to okay so think it over" you smiled nodding makingnhim beam at you.

"You should go! I can take the dogs for a few weeks" your mum added snickering at the face your sister pulled as she thumped her glass down. Henry was was trying to make a point you could tell by the way he lathered you with attention more then usual,unable to keep his hands off of you, always kissing or leaning into you as he spoke with the others around the table. He seemed to get on well with everyone, your mum loved him and Dean seemed to like the his banter he fit in well with you all ,so well he was already going on a fishing trip with your brother in a few weeks, you were relaxed you had expected him to get on with your family and he had been ignoring the way your sister was trying desperately trying to flirt with him beautifuly evading all her little tricks and counteracting all her digs he seemed to get annoyed and eventually brought up about her wedding again useing the opportunity and switched talking to her husband who was being a right little fanboy asking for an autograph and gushing over him which pissed her off even more the final straw was when the kids got him with their water guns and found themselves casually tossed in the pool one by one by him and dean both shaking their heads they both pulled off their tops. You watched as everyone raised brows at him you licked your lips as your sister in law leaned in

"Your a lucky bitch you know that?" You both giggled

"Trust me it gets better, you want to see his thighs" she scoffed

"Fuck thighs I want to see his cock, details bitch details!"

"Leathal and addictive" You both laughed loud drawing his attention from his conversation with Dean, he raised an eyebrow at youshaking his head when you both became bright red

"I think our women are being cheeky" he smirked as you both blushed and began giggleing again, Camille was sitting drooling over him as he walked around her to the washing line throwing his and deans tshirts over it, he froze frowning when your sister placed a hand on his torso and moved up to his chest firmly.

"Wow so thats what you were hiding beneath all that?" he cleared his throat nodding then batted away her hand sat back down you grunted wanting to smack her one he stopped you kissing your cheek trying to calm you down.

"But then again you'd have to have muscles to move her about with the extra weight she carries" there were gasps and growls from around the table you froze henry growled a little his eye became cold.

"Well I think a woman should be just that...a woman big or small doesn't matter...Tho personally I'm an ass man and your sisters is fantastic, isn't that right sweetheart?" You flushed as he rounded the table again then scopped you into his lap wrapping his arms around you under your bust making them rise a little

"And these can't forget them either" you giggled as he quickly stole kisses from you once that little ploy failed she was quiet sulking to herself watching as you and henry kept on slowly picking at the food on his plate conversation flowed nicely, that is until camille spoke up again this time going in for the kill.

"So Henry how do you feel about kids?" She asked everyone around the table stopped. Oh shit here we go.

"Camille!" Your mum warned but it was too late Henry smiled at he placing a hand on your thigh.

"Well its early days we haven't discussed it but I'd love to have kids some day and if everything goes according to plan it will be with y/n" you turned to him sharply dreading. He unknowingly walked into your sisters trap. Your heart broke at his admission and he saw it on your face as he glanced at you. In the background you heard your sister gasping.

"Oh no I'm sorry seeing as you were serious I thought you'd spoke to him." She freighned and apologetic look. It took every once of self control not to fly at her over the table.

"Tell me what?" Henry asked befor his eyes widened. Shit. Here it comes again the talk and enevitable break up. You couldn't have kids plain and simple. And no one wanted a young woman who would never be able to give him a child of his own. You gave one last tearfull look to tyour snake of a sister.

"Your a cruel bitch!" then got up leaving the table Henry right behind you as you got in the kitchen. Sitting down at the table you hung your head low hideing your tears as you knew the best thing to happen to you was about to leave.

"I knew this was a stupid idea" you managed between your sobs as you heard angry voices out side you go to move but he stops you. He leant down infront of you making you look at him.

"Hey it wasn't,no dont worry about them...Come on baby look at me." You shook your head befor quickly having him tuck you into his chest rocking you lightly calming you down. You hugged him tight trying to savour the last little comfort he was going to give you.

"Sweetheart I'm sorry its something we should have talked about Before starting to have sex huh?" He said kissing your head as he tilted your face to look at him smoothing your hair wiping your tears away with his thumb, reaching over you he tore off some kitchen roll before dabbing yout face with it and handing it to you as you unwound your arms from his waist feeling the cold prickles of dread in your stomach. Taking a deep shakey breath you steeled yourself for what was to come. He leaned against the table beside you waiting patiently.

"I.. she did this on purpose Henry love....I love you...B-but I can't have kids, well Its very unlikley....They said its nearly impossible.....I'm sorry so sorry...Youd make a great dad and I want you to know I understand....If its something you really want then we should cut our losses now befor-" you jumped as he growled gripping your chin forcing you to meet his gaze, he was stern, upset and angry. "You are not leaving me. Not over this. I meant what I said in the garden I'd love to have a family someday and if we can't have children of out own then there are other options. God knows that there are hundreds of children in the system that are waiting for loving homes to be adopted into and if we really want to go through the whole nine yards then we can have a surrogate." You gaped at him shaking your head

"Wh-what you dont understand I cant- Im not a true woman! I'm never going to give you-"

"Enough! I dont ever want to hear you say that again! A true woman , of coures you are! Your mine and who cares we can have kids other ways...Children do not make you a true woman or not I love you and we can find a way if we want our own... I suppose Camille put that stupid thought in your head?"

"Shes right what kind of woman cant-Im broken Henry! How can you be okay with this?" You shrugged unable to continue as you began trying to fighr back sobs still not believing he would stay. He deserves a happy home full of love and family.

"I dont care love" he grabbed you shaking your shoulders a little desperate for you to look him in the eye

"I dont care I fell in love with you, not for the fact you could give me children or not, but your kind and funny and...your my soul mate I.Love.you dont you understand that, I want you no one else and this will make us stonger, you are perfect and you are not broken you my better half and my woman... My stunning, perfect woman Y/n and we are not over,I'm not leaving you and you are certainly not leaving me not over this" you sniffled still confused not fully understanding what was going on. 'Why is he saying this? Why hasn't he left? The others did' you frowned at him

"Wh-what? No yo-you should be angry...Leaving...no one wants a young woman who can't give them children of their own" You mumbled confused at him he sighed again befor loweing down to eye level releasing his grip on your chin and carassed your face lightly you shuddered leaning into him.

"Sweetheart in case you havent realised children isn't the be all and end all for me, we can find another way later down the line, besides you said its very unlikely not impossible and if we decided to try for kids you can bet your ass I will be fucking you full every chance I get! Fuck I might even tie you to the bed for a week or so and that my love is a promise and a threat.. .Really this is my fault we should have spoke about this before starting to have sex I was a little to eager in that respect." You blushed remebering just how eager he was not that he was the only one. He kissed your cheek.

"I love you, so much and I'm planning on being with you for as long as you can stand me" he said before kissing you passionatly pulling you up and sitting you on the table standing between your parted knees he pulled away.

"You really don't have a problem with it?" He shook his head before attaching himself to you again tangeling tongues holding you tightly against his chest trying to pour all his feelings into you.

"Problem? With the enevitable fuck fest? Babe I'm a man. And like I said if that doesn't work we have options" you smiled tugging him back down giving him a tender kiss that got deeper as he pulled ou forward you heard someone clear their throat making you jump away. Peering around Henry you saw dean standing at the door arms folded you flushed and shrunk.

"So I take it by the way your sucking on my baby sister theres no need for me to,kick the shit outta you?" He asked casually Henry chuckled squeezing your hips holding you still as you tried to shimmy off the table around him.

"No sir, got it all straightened out. Haven't we babe?" You nodded sheepishly

"Good cos I don't feel like having my ass handed to me in front of my own kids...I mean I know I wouldn't win but I'd have to try...being that little twats older brother and all" you smiled at him Henry laughed

"Trust me we are good, just needed to clear the air, you know how she gets always thinking the worst, a habbit I'm slowly breaking" Dean nodded smileing as you was tucked up in Henry's arm's as he pulled you from the table all three of you snapped your head to the door as you heard a loud cry then heels stomping into the kitchen from the garden, camille was clutching her face supporting a bloodied nose she sneared at you venomously

"Well I hope your fucking happy! Walking in here thinking your better than everyone! He probably isn't even with you! A fucking look alike escort pathetic!" You grit your teeth

"What's pathetic is a fucking married woman jealous of her baby sister! Grow up for fuck sake you are not gods gift! god sake just threw yourself at my boyfriend infront of your whole family including your husband and son" she took a step back looking for a quick escape, you'd never stood up to her like this before.

"You spent years trying to knock me down and for what? Jealousy hatred you know I don't know what I've done you make you hate me but I'm sick of trying to make it up to you, from now on you can go fuck yourself, I spent years looking up to you, wanting what you had but now I see you never had anything not really, it was always someone elses man, someone elses baby to fawn over ,your other halfs cars you had fuck all yourself and now what you've got isn't fucking worth having so you have to make yourself feel better by stomping all over me the first time I've seen it clear as day your fucking jealous!" She sniffed blinking stunned that you snapped back, you pointed at her face ignoring the way Henry moved to pull you back if you start swinging.

"I've had it, don't ever talk to me again, ever and I truly mean that, we. are. done." She took another step back shocked before screeching.

"What?"

"I mean it, this is the last straw for me, we're done I'm done you tried to sabotage the best thing thats ever happened to me because you hate the idea of me somehow out doing you. Fuck you. As far as I'm concered I have no sister" she looked upset and went to touch you but you flinched away.

"Y/n you can't mean-"

"Your a toxic and childish person Camille, come back when you grow up until then stay the fuck away" she tried blinking back tears, she never expected for you to cut her out of your life, it hurt deep she looked down then quickly made her way past you through the kitchen her husband carrying their toddler behind her looking thoughrly embarassed

"Y/n I'm really sorry-"

"Fuck off, your just as bad! You were made for each other" he sighed glancing at the others in the room before following her out seconds later the front door slammed shut so hard it shook the interior walls. You and dean shared a look turning as your mum who had been by the back door watching walked into the kitched going over to the sink she turnt on the tap running her hand under cold water.

"I don't think we will see her for a while." She said quietly as she stopped the tap "Henry could you pass me the kitchen roll please" he did as he was asked. Dean spoke up in disbelief.

"Did you just smack her?" She shook her head

"No no of course not, you should know by now I punch, that was way out of line and she knew it, then she started mouthing off to me when I told her some home truths having the audacity to try and turn it around playing the victim I've had enough of her shit stirring in this family." You mother said as she placed the kitchen roll on her red knuckles. Dean scoffed out a laugh

"Fucking typical the one time she gets what she deserves and I fucking miss it." You giggle a little. Yeah it was typical. Your mum aproached Henry.

"Im sorry you had to see that ,its not usually this bad... but this was coming for a long time, I don't know whats up with that girl but she doesn't think anyone but her has the right to be happy, everything is a competition , shes spent years putting y/n down and it must have really boiled her piss that y/n has found happiness with a handsome successful man ,she has to be top dog today she learnt she isnt. Henry I can't thank you enough for giving Y/n the confidence she needed to snap back, I've watched that girl tear y/n apart for years and none of us could give her the boost she needed to sort it out but you did." Your mother explained. Henry smiled down at you kissing your head .

"No need to apologise or thank me, y/n warned me but I thought she may have exaggerated, I was caught off gaurd and that was my fault... And we never spoke about children...if we do want them in the future we will find a way" He said sheepishly before pulling you towards him you smiled as he wrapped his arm around you keeping you as close to him as possible. It was then that david came running in.

"Dad can we have cake now?" Dean nodded to him and ushered you all out into the garden for cake henry sat and dragged you onto his lap kissing the back of your neck lightly as you both dug into your cake.

"You ok now love?" You nodded leaning back on his chest finishing your mouthfull then reaching up you kissed under his jaw.

"Yeah I'm perfect." He ran his nose along the shell of your ear.

"Really? you've had a stressfull day, I think I might have to help you de-stress once we get home." He whispered heatedly you laughed at him as he ran his nose along your neck biting softly.

"Oi loverboy back up thats my baby sister." Dean said waving a fork at you both Henry pulled back a little with a cheeky grin.

"Yes sir, we will keep it pg....untill we get to the car" Dean laughed as the blushed slapping his arm

"Henry no!" He grinned before trapping you in a bear hug shouting

"Henry yes!" Before sucking on your neck making you wriggle trying to squirm away as everyone laughed watching your antics, finally he stopped and kissed your cheek before you both relaxed watching the kids run around hyped on sugar, you leaned back against him as he hummed into the back of your neck giving a quick kiss.That was when it really sunk in that he was still here. He still wanted you. Tears welled in your eyes as you realised it was all going to be ok. You tucked your head in his neck hiding your tears of relief.

"I love you." You mumbled into his chest he wrapped his arm around you tighter resting his face in your hair.

"I love you too" ending with a kiss on your hair looking up he saw your mum and brother looking at him questioning what was going on he mouthed 'relief' you them and they nodded in understanding as you snuggled into him more.

#henry cavill smut #henry cavill fic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavil x you

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verryberriess · 4 years

Text

Reason

Rating: M (for drugs and alcohol)

Synopsis: Truths are laid bare when alcohol and drugs get into the mix.

Thanks to bestie @maastrash for edits and being awesome and always encouraging me in life BAHHAHAHA

Cardan churned his head around in a daze. He couldn’t help but lean his head against the table. Sectioned off in the upper level, his booth allowed him an expansive view of the dance floor.

His cheek laid against the cool surface of the table as he peered downwards to the lower level, observing the mob dancing and mingling while his brain swam in colors. Whether the indistinguishable shapes in his vision were due to the alcohol or the colored lights from the club itself, he wasn’t able to discern the difference between them at the moment. Despite the booming of the bass in the club, he had the drugs to thank for he was in a happy, happy daze. His fae senses only saw and heard a muffled version of the chaos around him.

Except, now he felt a spike in energy.

Abruptly, he rose from his seat at the booth, hitting his knee against the rim of the table in the process. Smooth.

“Cardan, where are you off to?” Locke asked.

“It is time I join the revel, now that it is at its peak.” Cardan announced groggily. He stumbled his way out of the booth. He could hear Nicassia’s muffled tones of protest behind him, but didn’t care to acknowledge her whimpers.

He gripped the handrail of the stairs tightly. His fingers squeezed the metal at intervals, trying to make his descent as slowly as he could. Elderberry vodka and mirthroot clouded his senses. The combination was too strong for his fae blood to metabolize quickly enough, but Cardan took in that fact with appreciation.

He was finally able to make his way down the stairs and was soon joined by two nymphs. The two leaned against his frame and looped themselves around his biceps. He looked down at their faces, scrutinizing their features. One of the nymphs had a too-large nose and overzealous blush; she purred seductively and blinked whimsically at him. The other pushed her breasts up against him, her clawlike limbs grazed him in a playful manner. Cardan didn’t mind their advances, probably due to the fog in his mind that clouded much of his reason, but he wanted to get into the crowd, and “dance the night away” to rid himself of the events of today.

With the two nymphs dangling from his form, he eased them towards the mob. He felt one of the nymphs tug on his arm and with a breath of honey wine, she whispered, “Prince, instead of going into the throng of revelers, shall we escort ourselves into some place… more private?”

Cardan paid no heed and continued his way through the crowd that parted in tune to his entrance. He allowed himself to sink into the rhythm of the dance floor. He closed his eyes, immersing himself into the music that was still muffled, the colored lights that flashed insistently, and the groove of bodies that rocked to and against him.

Someone tapped his shoulder. Cardan opened up his eyes to perceive a lit, tightly-rolled joint of mirthroot displayed in between fingers extended out to him. He didn’t care who had offered it to him, but he sensed that his high was coming to an end, so he took the mirthroot and placed it in between his lips and inhaled. He felt it invade his lungs and further clutter his brain in the midst of the effects of the substances he had taken earlier. Exhaling, he instantly felt at ease, letting himself loosen. Cardan placed his arms around the two nymphs and pulled them closer against him, positioning them so he was in between the two of them, ignoring their eager gasps as he placed himself at the rear of one of the nymphs. He rolled his body against the two of them, wanting to feel the friction of their bodies against his.

Cardan opened his eyes slightly, surveying the chaos of bodies and the savage energy of the crowd. While he rocked against the bodies against him, he inspected the individuals surrounding him with the little slip of reason he had left. He caught sight of some individual with auburn hair, styled in a horn updo and curls that cascaded down the back of her form. His eyesight perked up a bit and his mind sharpened. He gave a push to the nymphs around him and met them with a glare to their protest. They immediately scattered.

He pushed further in vexation, dismissing scowls and venomous eyes. He had disturbed their highs and disordered the movement of the dancing, but his mind had sharpened towards only one goal at the moment, so he ignored the disapproval of those around him without much thought. The alcohol and mirthroot in his veins both furthered and hindered his resolve. It furthered him towards the direction of those auburn curls without discretion, but hindered him in which he acted before he could fully gather at what he was exactly doing.

He finally made it towards her.

Golden glitter smeared the eyelids and cheekbones of her feminine face. Painted in a dazzling, cherry tint, her lips slightly parted as if breathing in the energy of the crowd. She moved in tune with the music and Cardan, who didn’t care that he stood at the mercy of the rock of the crowd that shoved and bumped him, was finally able to take in her full form. She looked amazing, ethereal almost, despite the lawlessness of the room. Her tiny, skin tight teal blue dress clung to her curvy form; its neckline plunged in a deep V that showed off the cleavage of her breasts. Cardan was in awe. He almost always saw Jude in court dresses that although cinched her waist, flared down the length of her legs so they, unfortunately, couldn’t be seen. The sight before him left him without breath, immobilized him, and heart speeding.

He stumbled towards Jude further. Right now, reason was his foe. He was aware of Jude’s hostility towards him, but courage and stupidity currently fueled him. He now stood before her, and placed his hands upon her exposed shoulders.

Cardan watched Jude slowly rise from the hypnotic rhythm of the room. She must have taken something as well. He watched as her eyes gradually met his and further examined the blown pupils of her eyes. Cardan, too, was in a drunken stupor, so before he could stop himself, he lamented, “Jude…”

Cardan watched her, drinking in the sight of her in this way. There was some kind of tension between them that was better left unspoken of.

They were in the middle of the dance floor, but this time, the surrounding mix of fae and human dared not to get in the prince’s way again, lest they wanted their wings ripped out. Cardan silently thanked his reputation for allowing him to savor this moment.

Jude unexpectedly met him with a sad attempt of a glare but continued to sway her hips to the beat of the bass, “Cardan, stop staring.”

To his chagrin, his brain had failed him. His brain had shut off, he could barely form a word, until he spouted indignantly, “Did you think you could escape me? I can spot you from miles away.”

“You have no reason to bother me here. Stop your glowering, your narrowing eyes.” Despite whatever substances were within her system, Cardan was surprised at the proficiency and fight in her speech.

“And if I want to continue to admire the dullness of your being?” He countered.

Cardan focused further on Jude’s face. He could imagine the amount of concentration that it took for her to focus on him, his own head pounded from its desire to be left to idleness again.

So he obliged it. He let his body do the talking: surrounded her frame within his and placed his hands around her hips. He let them settle there for a few moments, giving Jude time to pull away or not. Unexpectedly, she had pulled him in further, accepting his gesture. Her hands slid up and down his body, feeling the rich fabric of his blouse, attending to the gemstones that rimmed the lining with little touches. In response, Cardan’s hands grazed down Jude’s figure, rested on the cup of her ass, and squeezed. He grabbed her ass and brought Jude closer to him, angling his body so that he fit against her frame perfectly. Her forehead fell into his chest and her hands were tangled in his hair this time, fiddling with his black strands.

Cardan felt a modest tug, so he looked downwards towards Jude. He took in her suddenly shy exterior, and was caught off guard when Jude came towards him and united them at their lips. Those cherry soft things that parted when she spoke left a bit of residue of golden gloss that stained his own. He felt a sort of vigor that abolished any sort of influence that was on him. His mind was clear, and now only focused on one thing: the mortal woman in front of him that pulled him out of his drunkenness and foolery. This kiss was like a sort of message, and he loved it so much. Felt addicted to decipher the code behind this unfamiliar language between them. He pressed himself harder against her: his lips against hers, her body against him. Those damned lips parted again and Cardan let himself in. It was another battle between them, fueled by uncovered truths and drugs and alcohol and the scent of sweat and heat that circulated around them.

The two came off of each other, only to catch their breaths. Panting, their hot breaths added to the already warm air. Cardan wasn’t intoxicated anymore. He was far from it. And glad. Glad that he was going to be able to remember this moment in full. While Cardan held Jude at her sides, breathing heavily, she whispered, “Kiss me, kiss me until I am sick of it.”

Cardan turned Jude around so he faced her back. He ground himself against her, rolling themselves akin to the music. He clasped his hands around her middle. No escape. He bent his head at the crook of her neck and leaned in, starting to kiss along Jude’s jaw and down the length of her neck to the exposed space of her collar bones. They fell into the cadence of the crowd in that moment. Their bodies rolled against each other accordingly.

Cardan felt Jude reach up towards him, her height angled so that she reached his ear and whispered, “I am so high.” Cardan could hear the smile in her words, the purr of her whisper had sent him into a shiver.

“What did you take, sweet Jude?” Cardan whispered into her hair.

“Nevermore,” Jude breathed. Nevermore was a white powdery substance that was to be inhaled through the nose, intended for faerie use. For faeries, it was strong. Cardan could not comprehend the extent of Jude’s response to the hard drug, how she was still standing and speaking right now, nor of however she had gotten a hold of it.

But Cardan felt a little sad, however. Was she standing before him because she was lost in its effects? Would she remember this encounter at the end of tonight, tomorrow? Must he go back and sneer at Jude tomorrow, forgetting this momentous tryst between them?

Cardan held Jude within his arms. He didn’t care that his court saw him mingling with the human girl he used to taunt, that the crowd had pretended to ignore the spectacle between them only seconds ago. He just wanted to cherish how this feeling felt. How being wanted felt.

“Jude,” Cardan spoke softly.

He felt movement within his arms, as Jude suddenly slackened.

Tag list: @maastrash @b00kworm @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years

Text

The Arrangement

John Wick x Reader (A/n- AU where John isn’t an assassin. Did i mention that there’s Angst in dom!John? I didn’t? Well, there is.)

Warning- SMUT/NSFW, Angst, dom/sub, oral sex, bondage, bodily fluids.

She didn’t know when it happened, or how, but at some point, he had become everything to her; the forefront of her thoughts, some sort of pseudo-king in her mind and the man that literally dominated her body. He was everything, Y/n didn’t think she’d ever feel that way about another, even if she knew it was wrong. John wasn’t interested in anything other than what they had, he had made it clear than his interests laid far from romantic affections.

Sex, that was what he wanted.

And Y/n? She was just a vessel.

They’d met just under a year ago, when John had represented her boss after he was put on trial for his ex-wife’s murder. To that day, Y/n still worked for that C.F.O at a bank in New York, and she didn’t have a clue on whether or not he actually killed his ex or not, but John, John was an excellent attorney and could probably make a serial killer look like an angel. Their exchange had started over the phone in the beginning; after being greeted by Y/n at the bank. After about a month, he’d started letting his assistant put her calls through when information needed to be relayed. Things only escalated from there on, and when the case was won, upon John’s last visit to the bank, he’d asked, or rather informed Y/n, that he’d be taking her to dinner. And in a private lounge at a hotel, he’d made his offer. She’d pondered on it, but after a few days of mulling over everything, Y/n’s attraction to him had surpassed reason and she’d called him, his cell that time, with the answer he’d been waiting for.

That evening, Y/n’s mouth was circled around the generous girth of John’s cock; plump lips staining his shaft red with the lipstick she’d applied just before her arrival. Kneeling between his spread legs, Y/n’s head bobbed eagerly, while one delicate hand worked what she couldn’t take in her mouth. “That’s it baby,” he managed through gritted teeth. Slouching further into the armchair, John’s hold on a fistful of her loose tresses tightening so much that it might have hurt in any other situation. Her other hand massaged his balls, just the way she knew he liked it; frequently switching between rolling her flattened palm and kneading gently, while her tongue occasionally swirled around his shaft. Y/n moaned quietly at the feeling of his bulging veins against her lips and arousal throbbed in her lace panties. Each time she came down, his swollen tip hit the back of her throat, threatening to go further on the occasion where John would eagerly buck his hips. The first time she’d taken John in her mouth, his length had made her gag before she could even take him fully and though months later, Y/n still hadn’t managed take him fully, she now reveled in the feeling, always eager to train herself for more.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you take my cock in that pretty little mouth,” he praised harshly, guiding her pace, his free hand roaming the back of her neck, brushing the collar that he’d put there upon her arrival. It’s purpose aside from the aesthetic was a simple one, so she’d remember her place, and who she belonged to.

When John drew closer to his high, Y/n could feel it and just then, John yanked her head back harshly. On instinct, she sat back on her calves, the tips of her black stilettos barely scratching her back, “Not tonight,” John breathed, a few dark strands escaped from his usual neatness, falling over his face, his pupils still blown with lust, “Tonight, I want to cum right here,” John brushed a few messy locks away from Y/n’s features, his rough touch subsequently falling to her bare breasts. “Stand up,” he urged, following that up with instructions for her to go lay on the bed, face up. John then pushed out of the armchair where he formerly sat, providing Y/n with a tantalizing view of his nude glory; his was a body that she adored, loved, dare she say.

She didn’t

He was a little over twenty years her senior, but John was in peak shape, his firm biceps and barely defined torso was hardly a testament to how deep his endurance ran. It had surprised her at first, but now, it thrilled her beyond compare. Y/n watched as he went over to one of the drawers in his dark oak dresser, his broad tattooed back on display, the bold ink work standing out against his skin. She’d always wanted to ask what they meant, but Y/n didn’t think that John was the type that wanted to spend an hour explaining why he’d gotten them. Her eyes stayed on him, mesmerized as John shifted some things around in the drawer, eventually producing a familiar set of restraints along with a ball gag. “Sit up,” his instructions were usually like that, brief and gruff, John wasn’t a man of many words and praises like the one she had received earlier were most times infrequent. But still he meant them, he always did. Besides, Y/n didn’t need words to know that John appreciated her, it was in the respect he had for boundaries and how well he cared for her after their sessions were over, it was enough.

At least, it used to be.

Lately, Y/n had started to wish there could be more. She wanted to be more. More than a woman that was bound to him by a contract, more than his dirty little secret and his designated play thing. But she wouldn’t say it, being with him like that was better than losing him entirely.

When Y/n sat up, John positioned himself behind her, gently pulling her wrists together- he was never rough unless it was during the act itself, restraining them behind her back with a pair of leather cuffs. Next, he fastened the strap of the gag to her face, and just before he moved the hard-plastic ball to her mouth, he asked, “Is this still okay?”

“Yes sir,” she nodded diligently.

“You won’t be able to use your safe word,” he explained firmly, “But you’ll have this instead,” from his nightstand, John got out a little blue ball. It was the kind people bought for small children or dogs, that made a squeaking noise when squeezed tight enough. Y/n was familiar with the contraption, they’d used it whenever John wanted her mouth…..otherwise occupied. “Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Y/n nodded again.

“Good,” he fit the little ball in one of her palms, “Try it out; squeeze it twice, that’s the signal I want you to use if you need me to stop,” much to John’s satisfaction, Y/n gave the ball a couple squeezes and it made it’s little childish noise. “Good girl,” he praised and Y/n thought it was a little out of turn when he kissed the crown of her head before fitting the gag between her lips and urging her to lay back. Without a moment to waste, he was re-positioned between her spread legs, peeling off her delicate, lace panties just before leaning over on either edge to secure them to hidden handles with another set of cuffs, those with longer chains.

When Y/n was sprawled out before him, gagged with lust blown eyes, completely wanton and ready for his taking, John barely took a minute to admire his handy work before his hands were on her. His calloused fingers started at her restrained ankles, skimming up her legs. His fingers sent shocks of her spine when they brushed her inner thigh, not staying too long there as he splayed one large palm on her stomach while the other traveled further upwards to cup her left breast. Harshly, John groped and squeezed, smiling slyly when Y/n arched her back as he twirled her hardened nipple between his stocky fingers.

Y/n’s sounds were muffled, but John enjoyed them nonetheless. He took her right breast in his other hand, playing with them as he shifted his gaze to between her thighs. Easily, he could see the sheen of slick arousal, her legs spread wide enough so he could have a salacious view of her clit too.

Despite his longing for release, John wanted to savor the moment and test Y/n’s limits. Leaning forward on his knees, he gently blew on her drenched cunt. One hand still toyed with her breast while he momentarily gripped her thigh, opening her up even further, with the other. His lips descended on her cilt and he sucked on the bundle of nerves while moving slip two digits inside her folds.

Y/n bucked her hips a bit and suddenly annoyed by her enthusiasm, John’s hand left her breast, pressing her down at the stomach, “None of that little one,” he warned, crawling up her body, until he was a hot breath away from her ear, John remained, “You’re my slut and you take what I give you, understand?” Y/n just whined for the loss of contact and John growled, “Do you understand?”

Meeting his dark gaze, Y/n didn’t let him ask a third time, nodded astutely, her ‘yes’ garbled by the ball gag. Wordlessly, John returned to his former task, that time running his flattened tongue running the length of her pussy lapping up her juices. His tongue invaded her core and it had Y/n aching for more, longing to grind on his face but knowing that some consequences weren’t worth it. Despite her gag, she tried to moan his name, desperate and already growing frustrated.

John’s lips found her bud again, alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves as he re-introduced his fingers. Slowly, he pumped, slightly curling his digits in an expert, successful attempt to hit her G-spot. Y/n moaned around the plastic ball hampering her speech, saliva leaking out the side of her lips. She was so close, and they both knew it, Y/n could tell that the boil in her stomach was near the point of bubbling over and John could feel her walls starting to tighten around his fingers, but he wasn’t done with her yet.

Again, much to Y/n’s dismay, John stopped his ministrations and when she whined, he chuckled, “You don’t get to cum that easily,” his voice was gravely and his beard was coated with the glisten of her silky, moist arousal. His feather light kisses started at Y/n’s public bone, trailing upwards and temporarily lingering on her stomach before he finally took one of her breasts in her mouth, teasing her sensitive nipple with his teeth. With one elbow sunken into the memory foam, supporting his weight, John palmed her pussy with his other hand, feeling Y/n’s wetness on his palm, occasionally rubbing her mound with his thumb. Y/n’s moans became more frequent and that time, when she arched her back, tossing her head to the side and shutting her eyes, John didn’t reprimand her.

The edging continued for longer than Y/n had registered, though, by the time John kissed his way up the valley of her breasts, only stopping to lick her neck erotically, Y/n was a frustrated mess, unchecked tears escaping her shut lids. She longed to say his name, but her last sensible cell told her it wasn’t welcome there, Y/n knew her place.

“Open your eyes,” John urged, lining himself up with her longing entrance, “You know I like to see you,” his low, gravelly voice had Y/n’s eyes snapping opening, widening noticeably when John pushed into her, his cock stretching her familiarly. Drinking in the sight below, John let his hardness remain unmoving, nestled in Y/n’s wet haven for a minute.

Rapt with desire, his gaze locked with hers as he conjured up a rough, almost selfish pace. One calloused grip held her steady at the hip, the other held up his weight, holding him high enough so he could enjoy the way her boobs bounced with each violent movement. She attempted to crook her legs at the knees, but her ankle cuffs vastly limited their movement. Y/n’s heels were buried in the sheets, but John couldn’t have cared less, his housekeeper could deal with that, hell, he could buy new ones.

The sound of skin slapping skin; his balls assaulting her core joined the filthy symphony that was his throaty grunts intertwined with Y/n’s stifled yelps. John’s jaw was clenched and beads of exertion had started to build up on their skin despite the air conditioning.

It hurt, but in the best ways possible. His member stretched Y/n wider than anyone else’s ever had and it was difficult for her to keep up with the aggressive rolling of his hips. Time spent with John was usually like that, it was how he got off; the control, his ability to bring pain and pleasure at once, and of course, being able to use her to his liking.

As he drew closer to his climax, John growled, sliding his hand from Y/n’s side to firmly palm a swollen breast, his mouth descending on her neck, biting and sucking on her pulse point, reveling in her scent. “Cum for me,” he eventually ordered, “I want to feel your cunt squeeze my cock baby.”

Y/n’s head pressed into the black sea of silk, her hair fanned out around her as her eyes rolled back. Her toes curled as her body trembled in ecstasy, her walls clenching around John, stiffening his pace and she came around him, her warmth spilling out; coating her thighs and dripping onto his sheets. John rode out Y/n’s orgasm, half smiling triumphantly as her smaller body quaked; pleasure that he’d brought coursing through her veins, “That’s it,” he praised through gritted teeth.

Before her body could settle, John pulled out, aiming his cock to the valley of her breasts as Y/n tried to prop herself on her joined elbows. He pumped his length vigorously to keep up momentum, using her juices as lubrication. Within seconds, he was coating her chest with generous spurts of hot, creamy cum. Y/n watched intently, enjoying the moment just as much as he was, loving the feeling of his product dribbling down from her nipples onto her stomach, trying to smile when stray drips caught her neck and face.

When they were finished, John undid the cuffs and gag, pulling on a pair of lounge pants before scooping Y/n’s tired body up his strong arms, holding her against his bare chest as he took her to his large, adjoining bathroom. He drew her a bath, helping Y/n wash herself with a gentle rubs from a loofah and the lather of a fragrant body wash, all from outside the of tub- he rarely got in with her, unless of course, he was in the mood. The after care process was a lengthy one, though John was a patient man, and Y/n liked being taken care of. After her bath, he helped her dry her hair and get dressed in an outfit he’d bought her a while back; a grey-blue, soft, cotton button up dress with capped sleeves and a ‘v’ shaped neckline. Her shoes and coat came next and it was late when John was finally walking Y/n down the stairs, to the front door of his Upper East Side townhouse, his hand stationed low on her back. He went through the motions of unlocking the wrought iron and glass double doors, “I’ll be meeting with a client for dinner on Friday night, you need to make yourself available.”

“Yes John,” outside of scenes, rules were slightly laxed; Y/n was still expected to respect and obey, but there was still room for her to look at him directly and use his first name, “When would you like me to be ready for?”

“Seven thirty,” John’s hand closed around the barn handle, “I want you to buy a new dress,” he explained sternly, signaling that it wasn’t up for debate, though, his orders typically weren’t, “Get something in mauve, I like how that looks on you. Just above your knees. Go to that place on Madison Avenue, the one I usually take you to.”

“Okay,” she nodded quaintly, waiting until he bid her goodnight before walking to her car, parked on the curb. Without as much as a smile, John watched as she got into her cool grey, hatchback Lexus Hybrid, the one he’d bought her, making sure she closed the door and got the engine started before shutting the front door.

When John was out of sight, Y/n, threw her head back on the leather rest, tossed her bag to the passenger seat and gripped the wheel tightly, with all intentions of pulling off. Though, after a minute of just letting herself sink into her thoughts, her breath caught and Y/n began sobbing quietly. Lately, leaving was a part of their arrangement that she had started to hate; leaving meant that they weren’t really a couple, and though it was a fact she always knew, it had recently started to hurt.

When did it happen?

How did it happen?

Y/n didn’t have an answer, but she did know that somewhere along the line, John had stopped being just her ‘dom’, even if he didn't know it, and she had fallen in love with him. And the worst part was, he would never love her back.

*******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #John wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves x you #John Wick #oneshot #john wick oneshot #keanu reeves oneshot #angst #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #ff #fanfic #fanfiction

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tortillastar · 3 years

Text

Ribs

She drags the shoe across the linoleum tendu à la second. The offending stockinged leg stares back from the mirror. The creased turnout - just shy of 180 - the lemon-peel crease at the crook of her knee, the tumor bulge of her kneecap, and the limp left toes, hung out to dry like Sunday laundry. Slight, like a pimple dotting one’s brow, yet enough to give it the look of a crooked branch.

She shifts her gaze to the leg and gazes detachedly as the flesh constricts, pulling and stretching into the same strange crests and valleys traced by shadow. A heaviness presses upon her knee, a directive to point is lost in translation, and only then did she realize her feet were numb.

A few streaks of light claw the studio floor, slicing her leg like a loaf of brioche. She nudges her phone with the frayed corner of her pointe shoe. 8:10. Two hours she’d been in the empty studio tucked at the end of the hall, only the hawk-eyes and bitter laugh of the mirror for company.

For the past month, she’d taken to running the exam combinations in some pretense of preparing for the winter final. In ballet, no amount of midnight cramming would shuffle the pecking order. Anna would top the list, Svetlana and Maria eating at her heels a few miles removed. She would powder the bottom, placidly hanging on the brink of expulsion as only one who’d lived bare-necked beneath the guillotine for five years and four months could.

She hadn’t gotten past the first set of pas de bourrées, engaged in a staring contest with the knee she’d hammer straight, the bones she’d melt and remold, the feet she’d shape into the neck of a goose.

She peers at the face in the mirror, fixed with a melted and molded smile, like a wax mask worn in the sun. The janitor would be making his rounds soon. He was a stubby hunchback who reeked of greasy bacon and cottage cheese and picked his teeth with the rusted keys on his belt-sized keyring - one she preferred not to cross.

She wobbles over to her bags and collapses by them, a boney addition to the hobo pile. Practiced hands dig out the knot and unravel the ribbons. They leave red tracks crisscrossing her calves - she’d tied them too tight. Her nails absent-mindedly trace the straw-like veins, some purple, some blue along her feet, peeling off millimeter by millimeter each patch and piece of toe-tape. They pull at her skin and reveal the scabs, the welts, the splotches of red. She slips out the studio, leaving a foot-width slit as the teachers did, a silent dusting of her tracks.

The two-minute trek back to the dorms was enough to stain her exposed cheeks crimson and numb the fingertips poking out of holes in her winter gloves. The knob gives too easily.

No Anna, but the heap of dress and stockings, shed like a lizard's skin at the foot of the bed, confirmed her lurking presence.

Stealing food again.

At this, the girl allows herself a haughty flick of the lead eyebrows smeared to the crown of her forehead. The fading desk lamp huffs out a sickly-yellow glow on the knots of hair, specks of dust, bits of paper, and the torn sole of an unwashed stocking poking forth from beneath the bed. They invaded the edges of her vision, rubbing a crude line around the corners.

The girl picks up a corner of the lilac leotard, the sheer purple skirt would clumsily about the waist and noted with a bitter cornrow twist of the lip the xs tag, the letters faded and cracked, but the jeer no quieter. Hers was two sizes bigger - two sizes too big. A fist-sized patch of sweat bloomed at the chest. She smells in its sticky sweetness, browned toast, and poached eggs. Hands bring the damp clothing closer to her hankering nose. She stumbles at the rusty stutter of the doorknob and flings the dress back atop the pile with a flinch.

Anna slips in, lithe as a cat. She flips the lock shut with a blind hand, balancing in the other a plate piled with the usual - tattered cheese squares and soggy folded between slices of flaking bread heels.

“Back already?” The words are puffy and thick. Two folded sandwiches balloon from her cherry-petal lips; a scrap of ham flags the corner of her mouth. The lilt fills in the rest - given up already?

The girl hums, letting the implication roll off her like a raindrop caught on an umbrella.

Anna flops on her bed, sidestepping the strewn clothes and bunched skirts on impossibly high relevé. A few sandwiches flop open, but no creak of the headboards. A few sticky stabs of the remote control and a projection flickers to life on the far wall, bathing her form in a hazy-blue hue. It flecks her hair, mud brown and unbrushed, but pretty in that careless way only those who didn’t care their appearance seemed capable of. A white collarbone peaks out the collar of her nightshirt, paper-strip legs from the mouth of flared pajama pants. A flat chest and masculine frame suspended her at that blissful age where the body seemed an insatiable black hole, vanishing the food she ate without a trace. The girl stares at the way her kneecaps vanished into the line of her leg, and the natural doming of her foot, even unpointed, and subconsciously shoved her numb toes and bruised legs further beneath her bed.

She was the same once - wolfing down oil-crisp fries and cheese-dripping burgers at the KFC beneath her ballet class, shoving a bag of chips to the tail of the conveyor belt, being chased around the house by her grandmother, begging her to down the last gulp of soup.

It had come about gradually, imperceptibly, like the callouses about her big toe. A few arched eyebrows, a few frowns, and a simple “Katia switch with Sofya” relegated her to the spot by the exit door. The ones who occupied it never stayed long - dismissed, or crushed under the pressure of digging themselves out.

Her fork lingered over the beefsteak, wound an uneasy pirouette, and stabbed into the neighboring mound of greens. That had been easy. The academy canteen didn’t serve much red meat in the first place. Fish was harder, especially the cuts of smoked salmon she slapped on everything from burnt toast to insipid spinach leaves. Eggs went because she forgot to grab one breakfast. Then milk, because the skim milk pitcher had run dry one morning, and if she wasn’t drinking milk anymore why keep up with the yogurt.

She forced down finger-sized carrots, bitter brussels sprouts, and broccoli florets that sunk into her teeth. First with leftover dribbles of salad dressing, then fruit, then nothing at all. She gazed at the squares of beef steak wedged in others’ mouths, trying to taste the greasy, crumbly juices in her raw cucumber slices.

She took to keeping food and water on her person at all times - an orange bulging like a tumor in her clutch, a thermos tucked in the rooster pouch of a holey jumper. It was to avoid starvation, the dull cramp in her stomach that tugged down the corners of her lips and inevitably followed by overeating. She never ate the food but kept bringing it along anyway - on the two-minute walk from her dorm to the academy, the few hundred-step walk from cafeteria to class.

Partly, she derived some warped pride from the fact that she could eat, but would not. Partly, she came to enjoy voicing with a breathy, bogged-down sigh, “I’m too full, anyone want this?” when she spotted a teacher turning the corner, and answering calls of “I’m starving, anyone got a snack?” with granola bars, and too-large apples shoved in her classmates’ faces, smiling an evasive smirk when they accepted.

She scanned barcodes and tallied up the calories, grinning in triumph when she dragged herself through the day at under a thousand - net, of course, she was careful.

“Want one?” She realizes she’d been staring, and by the arch of Anna’s single crow-bar brow, for too long. Without shame, the girl raises her eyes to meet Anna’s pitch-black orbs, poised before an eye-roll she would probably share with her bed lamp.

“No thank you.” Creaks the automatic reply. “I don’t eat bread.” She adds to strengthen her conviction, though nobody would spare a glance at her plate at lunch to check if she’d kept her word.

“Your loss.”

A buoyant, techno tune draws her gaze to the projection. For the night, Anna had passed up the flabby American rom-coms she inhaled under the pretext of learning English. Instead, flappy, armless sleeves, squirming tuber dresses, and pendulum purses paraded down coffee-stained roads, easily avoiding the few puddling gulps dotting the curbs. Towering lampposts, shop signs, wobbly curbstones, each leaf bleached grey. A flap of bat’s wings and the occasional lilting bird whine completes a pretend eeriness ruined by the too-matte paint, the too-smooth roads, the too-new metal benches.

The camera whirled about, favoring a bottom-to-top shot that lent full view to jutting, crooked knees, and bowed legs. The girl frowns at their pastry-thin shoulders, chicken-wing spatula, and pigeon-toed walk. She sees in bed-sheet expressions not aristocratic coolness, but contemptible misery - a silent plea on weighted lips.

“You can become a model if you’re dismissed.” Her smacking lips pork chop the words, her mouth brimmed like her suitcase, its zippered mouth perpetually open in half-hearted surprise. She tears open the final sandwich, nails pressing crescent-moons into the holey bread pockets. The girl lifts a corner of her lip in a wan smile.

The words pick at hardened scabs, no more than a tickle. She’d been suspended on the chopping block from the moment she was accepted, and the sense of urgency had long since worn thin. The studio hours after class was fulfilled out of habit, not any imminent fear of dismissal.

The girl thought it was Anna’s brand of helping - disaster prevention through repeated exposure. They walked the no-man’s-land between friend and stranger on a scaffolding of convenience and pity.

“They have it easy. Just starve themselves, look miserable, parade around clothes slapped with some expensive brand name. And people shower them with praise.” She sucks the tips of her fingers with a pop.

“We have to starve ourselves and look happy doing it.” She stands up with the empty plate. A few dark specks had already seized on the leftover crumbs.

“You’re showering first.” A phrase stranded between question and demand.

The door croaks shut, and her wobbly “Yeah” sinks in the empty room. The bed groans as she stands. She wants to peel off the bark and tear the baseboards but glares dully woodgrains for a few beats before grabbing her shower duffel from the doorway.

The shared bathroom is conspicuously empty. The others had showered after class, she assumed. She twists off her jumper and lets the cold prick at her bare arms, observing each pimpling goosebump. Slowly, she peels off the lilac leotard and rejoices at the wrinkle of fabric bunched beneath the armpits. Cold fingers trace along the ribs, revealed one by one, pressing a chill to each angled, protruding bone. In the mirror - lustrous despite the grimy tiles and cracked sinks, copper wire lips bend into a smile.

#ballet #writing #short story #fiction

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immaculate-imperfection · 3 years

Text

Mr. Kant

Plot summary: A teacher in a Berlin prison helps one his four students graduate. The inmates find a way to express their gratitude …

[Sorry, English is not my native language. If something sounds funny or doesn’t make sense let me know.]

Sometimes work sucks. Hard. Being searched everyday for contraband going in and out of this prison in Berlin was an irritating hassle. The bureaucracy and paperwork alone could have been reason enough for me to quit. Working with my students themselves was fine actually. Sure, at times there were witty comments during class but that was not much different from any high school I had taught. There was one incident when I was leaning over a student’s shoulder explaining the correct way of placing commas when Torres grabbed a handful of my right butt cheek. “If you were in prison I’d take real’ good care of you, Mr. Kant.” They knew I was gay and liked to tease my about it. There was no real malice behind it though. Out of surprise and fear I froze for a moment although I have to admit: When I was in the shower later that day I found myself fingering my hole imagining him f*cking me on his bunk bed. With his cell mate watching us.

My subjects were German language and literature but really I helped the inmates wherever I could to attain their GED. Just last week Fuchs tried to pass the official exams but realistically I did not have high hopes for him. A real shame considering how smart he was.

When I entered the class room my students were already waiting for me. The usual four. The students wore their prison uniforms. Unlike the bright orange overalls you might know from American prisons here in Germany they were a bit more, well, subtle: blue pants and simple gray sweaters. I walked to my desk and sat down, opening my satchel. “Alright, let’s see. Today we’re gonna continue with Goethe’s Faust…” “Mr. Kant”, Fuchs interrupted, “I have something to say.” He was 26 years old with shoulder long bleached blond hair and a fairly slim build. With a grin he picked up a piece of paper from his desk and held it toward me. From this distance I couldn’t make out what it was so I took a few steps closer to him. And there it was: his GED certificate. My jaw dropped to the floor. “I did it, Mr. Kant!” I was so overjoyed I started to laugh and immediately embraced him. Instinctively I kissed his cheek. Oops, a step too far. But it didn’t matter in all the excitement. “This is amazing! Congratulations!” “Thank you, Mr. Kant. I couldn’t have done it without you”, Fuchs replied and hugged me back. When we let go he was still smiling. “Seems, I should have tried to smuggle in a bottle of champagne”, I joked.

A moment passed. “Well, it’s gonna be hard to go back to teaching now but I guess that’s what we’re here for.” I turned around to walk back to my desk when Torres remarked: “Actually, we a have a little surprise for you, Mr. Kant. To thank you for what you’ve done for us.” Torres was a native Spaniard, 34 years old. He had a short buzz cut of black hair, almost shaven, and a five o’clock shadow. It was obvious he worked out. He continued: “Hansen?” Hansen was a rather quiet man but by no means shy. His body reminded me of a professional soccer player. He wore his dark brown hair in an undercut that curled up a bit on top. After he had gotten up he walked over to the door and locked it. I had no idea what this was about. I gulped. Where on earth did they get the keys? If the guards found out about this, they’d be screwed. Me too, probably. Seeing the fear in my eyes, Torres spoke again, with a calm voice: “Don’t worry, Mr. Kant. Everything is gonna be fine.” Karaman picked up two chairs and put them in front of my desk, one behind the other. A German with Turkish heritage, Karaman was 36 years old with a short beard and a bit burlier than the others. A bear if you will. Black hair covered his forearms and a bit of his chest hair peaked through the collar of his sweater. He pointed to the chair in the front. Reluctantly I sat down and he sat down behind me. He took both of my hands and held them crossed behind the back of the chair. Fear gave way to confusion. While I was wondering what they were planning on doing Torres said to me: “Sorry, Mr. Kant. Unfortunately we don’t have any music for this.” He stepped right in front of me and slowly began swaying his hips back and forth. Was he starting to give me a lap dance? It felt awkward and everyone chuckled at first. He turned around shaking his ass. His pants were not tight-fitting but I could get a hint of his butt. Maybe his thick thighs bulging in his pants gave it away.

He turned around once more and took off his sweater, revealing his white undershirt. He flexed his muscular arms with a seriousness in his face. I couldn’t help but notice that his body was nicely shaped. His arms looked strong and were accentuated by single veins. After he had taken off his shirt, too, I admired a tribal tattoo covering his left shoulder and chest. He lifted his left arm and shoved his armpit on my face. It tickled my nose. “Lick it”, Hansen suggested with a devious smile. I frowned and turned my face to the side. A silly idea. Clearly they were teasing me again. Torres chimed in: “Come on, don’t be shy, Mr. Kant.” Gently he guided my face back by my chin. My nose was in his hair. It was hard to deny but it smelled nice. It was hard to describe, it was somehow … dark? Hesitantly I opened my lips and licked his armpit. A little salty, a little sweet, too. Karaman chuckled a little, leaving me feeling a bit embarrassed.

Torres opened the buttons of his pants. God, where was this going? He pulled his pants down a bit exposing his white briefs. Continuing his dance, he started thrusting his crotch toward my face. I laughed a little. This was so stupid. “I thought you liked c*ck”, Torres insisted. I hesitated to reply: “Well, erm, I do but …” Before I could finish my sentence he pushed his d*ck right onto my face. I recoiled: “What are you doing?” Torres pulled down his briefs just a bit. I could see base of his d*ck’s shaft. I’m not going to lie, I was transfixed by this. Softly he pushed his crotch onto me a second time. I didn’t resist again. For a moment I closed my eyes. God, I love the smell of c*ck. I loved the smell of his c*ck. I placed my lips on what was exposed, not quite kissing it. Karaman let go of my hands. I rested them on his knees instead. He pulled even closer.

Torres grabbed my chin again and guided it upwards. “Open your mouth.” I looked up to his face and did what I was told. His smile turned into an expression that almost looked like he was angry. His right hand around my throat he opened his lips a little bit. A strand of saliva dangled from the tip of his tongue and landed in my mouth. I swallowed his spit, somehow feeling grateful. He got closer and spit again into my mouth, this time more forcefully. Aggressively pulling the hair on the back of my head he licked me, starting at my right collar bone continuing over my cheek just next to my ear. And then—he kissed me. On the lips. Everything up this point was very frisky but I instinctively knew that this was crossing a line. Nervously I looked around. The other inmates didn’t seem to care. Fuchs watched curiously, his head tilted a bit to the side. Hansen even had his hand down his pants. While I relaxed a little I noticed that I had been clutching Karaman’s upper thighs. I turned my face sideways to look at him but suppressed the urge to apologize.

When I turned back around Torres was still standing before me. The outline of his c*ck was now clearly visible. It was semi-hard and pointing to the right side in his briefs. Biting my lower lip, I couldn’t help but imagine what it looked like. Torres pulled down his underwear, his c*ck springing out of it. He moved closer until it was touching my face. Moving a little side to side the smooth foreskin of his c*ck brushed against my closed lips. I opened my mouth to suck him but Torres stopped me: “Lick my balls.” So I redirected my head, first kissing the part where his balls bordered his body. Then I licked the balls themselves, slowly. While his trimmed p*bes and closely shaven ball hair brushed pleasantly against my tongue his c*ck grew to a formidable size. It was bending slightly upwards. I looked up as if to ask for permission to suck his d*ck which Torres seemed to understand and confirmed it with a nod. His c*ck tasted so good. I may not be good at deep-throating but I love to suck d*ck. Karaman behind me shuffled a little. He had opened up his pants and guided my right hand to his crotch. I fondled it a little bit but impatient as I was I slid my hand down his briefs stroking his soft d*ck.

Torres pulled back and took a step aside. Only then I noticed that Fuchs was standing beside him, jerking his c*ck. He moved towards me and moaned as I closed my lips around his d*ck. He held my head with both of his hands when I took my hands away from Karaman to hold his shaft with my right hand and play with his balls with my left. I could see that his p*bes were slightly wet from sweat, so I licked them, too. He turned around and held his muscular butt cheeks to my face. “Lick it, Mr. Kant”, he demanded, so I brushed my tongue on and around his hole all the while stroking his d*ck. At the same time Karaman stood up and placed his balls on my right shoulder flicking and rubbing his soft d*ck against my neck. I turned my head to see what Karaman was doing. His balls were unusually large and hairy. I started to kiss his cut d*ck when Hansen suddenly exclaimed: “Wait, hold up!” He was standing a few paces to the side with his hard c*ck in his hand. Quickly he stepped before me and started skull-f*cking me. Ten seconds later he began grunting loudly. Warm c*m filled me that I could feel was shot with a high pressure, some of it oozing out of the side my mouth. He came a lot. He mustn’t have come in a long while. The characteristic taste of c*m gave me a kind of natural high. I hesitated to swallow to savor every moment. I stroked his d*ck forcefully to milk him of every drop. Hansen stooped down and kissed me softly. “Thank you, Mr. Kant.”

“Get up!”, Torres commanded. I began to like being told what to do. He guided me to my desk where I sat down. “Take off his clothes”, he said bare-chested to the others curtly, standing between my legs. Hansen got dressed and gave me a smile before leaving the classroom while Fuchs and Karaman untied my shoes and removed my socks. After giving me a kiss Torres lifted my sweater and shirt and took them off. I opened up my pants which Fuchs and Karaman then pulled down. Torres gently pushed me back. While I was lying there in my boxer shorts he raised my legs and took off my underwear. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to see your c*nt”, he said softly. I felt exposed, vulnerable. He just looked at my whole for a moment before starting to rim me. I closed my eyes to focus on the sensation. When I opened them again Karaman and Fuchs were standing to the left and right of my face with nothing but their black boots on. Black hair covered Karaman’s chest and stomach. His bushy p*bes framed his c*ck nicely. Fuchs also had chest hair which surprised me a little although his fur was not very dense. I grabbed their c*cks and jerked them. Not after long I started sucking Karaman’s still semi-hard d*ck. His hair tickled a little. I could feel his c*ck growing inside me. The rimming stopped while Torres was taking off his pants. When he was done he placed his sweater under my ass. A thoughtful gesture. His c*ck was prodding against my hole. He leaned over me, our chests touching. “Open up your c*nt for me.” He pushed gently. He whispered into my ear: “Relax.” There was something about his voice that made it easy. He pushed a bit more and slowly he entered me. He sighed. When he was completely inside he told me: “Your c*nt feels so good.” Then he really began f*cking me. Being filled with his large c*ck was a heavenly pleasure-filled pain. Thrusting his c*ck into my c*nt he held up my legs. I moved on to sucking Fuchs’s d*ck.

Torres pulled out and told me to turn around. Karaman got onto the table, spread my cheeks and spit onto my hole. I arched my c*nt towards him, eager to receive him. He lay down on top of me pushing his hard c*ck into me. He didn’t f*ck me evenly. Rather his thrusts forward were fast and forceful and accompanied by a low grunt. His c*ck grew wider towards the base which was a very satisfying feeling. His sweaty stomach rubbed against my back. After a while he stopped and ordered: “Move aside.” I rolled over while he turned around to lie on his back. I climbed on top of him. With one hand I grabbed his d*ck while I licked his furry sweaty chest. He grabbed my head and pulled it to his left armpit which I gratifyingly licked as well. At the same time Torres was fingering me. After I was done I sat down on Karaman’s c*ck. He began f*cking me again, grunting. He started moving faster when he suddenly stopped deep inside me. “F*ck, I’m coming!”, he said with a sour face. I could feel the warm liquid dripping from my hole. While I was leaning forward with him still inside me, he gave me a passionate kiss. I loved the idea of being filled with his c*m. On my knees I moved back a little to suck his c*ck clean. With my ass high up in the air Fuchs rimmed my c*mmy hole. He told me: “Come down here.” I got off the table and stood in front of him. Fuchs took my arms and held them tight behind me, kissing me while our d*cks rubbed against each other. In the corner of my eye I saw Karaman, now dressed. He slapped my ass before leaving the room. Abruptly Fuchs turned me around lifting my right knee to rest on the table. “Do you want more c*m in your c*nt?”, he asked. I nodded. “Say it!” “I want your c*m inside my c*nt.” Before I could finish my sentence he pulled the back of my hair and started f*cking me. Fast. “Your c*nt is so tight. It’s begging to be f*cked.” He slapped my ass. Then his movements became slower but deeper. “Do you want that load?” “Yes. Please, shoot me your load inside me!” He pulled out and sat on of the chairs. “You have to earn it.” I sat down on his c*ck, repeatedly getting up and down again. Then I heard a soft splurch. Fuchs grabbed my thighs strongly and kept me down. He was breathing heavily, pressing his face against my back. “Clean it up”, he said in a stern voice. I got up, his c*ck sliding out of my hole and knelt in front of him. Single droplets of c*m were still on the shaft of his c*ck that I diligently licked clean.

Torres stood behind me. He placed his boot on my butt cheek, pulling it a little aside to see more of my hole. “Turn towards me”, he commanded. Kneeling before him I started sucking his d*ck again. Fuchs got dressed. Before leaving he grabbed me by the chin and spit into my open mouth. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Kant.” It wasn’t long until Torres told me sit down on my desk again. I lifted my legs to expose my c*nt, anticipating him to f*ck me. We were alone now. “Do you want it?” I nodded. He began f*cking me. He leaned over, his chest touching mine. He started out by biting my neck tenderly but proceeded to kiss me. It was strangely intimate. We locked eyes when he said: “I love your c*nt.” I suddenly felt so relaxed with him. Then he began moaning. “I’m coming!” He let out an “Aaah” as though he were in pain. A few thrusts more and he fully leaned onto me. He looked into my eyes and brushed a strand of hair out of my face saying: “Thank you for what you done for us, Daniel.” I was surprised. Never have I heard an inmate using my first name. Still inside me he kissed me once more.

We put on our clothes, silently but not awkward. I was still processing what just had happened. On my way to the door Torres grabbed my from behind putting his arms around my waist. With a knowing smile he said: “We should make this a graduation tradition, Mr. Kant. I think I could get used to that.” I chuckled softly. Sometimes working in prison wasn’t so bad after all.

#me #gay #short story #oc #fanfic #prison #gay fiction #gay romance #fan fiction #tinman3

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firesofdainix · 4 years

Text

and then you pray and say everything is all right

Henry dreams of six women in a different universe.

or; i make a sequel to that one fic i wrote when i was hella high

They first come to him in dreams, faceless yet familiar at the same time in Henry’s mind, like the water running through his veins and giving him the life he has preserved for many years to come until his death. He’d look at all of these women, in his dreams, frowning at him or sharing the hatred they have stored against him like a locked vault of their darkest memories.

(Some even hit him- he doesn’t fight back as he lets all these women vent their anger towards him.)

It was not his life that had flashed before his eyes when his breaths had become shallow, but the peculiar yet recalling dreams of these young women, and he remembers when they had come to his life like glass panes or portraits wishing to become something different.

A short elderly woman comes to his dreams first- after his wedding night with Catalina. She was crying, perched on an invisible ledge that Henry cannot see; it was as dark as the night, the moon’s light only giving light to the sobbing woman’s head-covered hands.

(He does not know if it really is the moon giving him a chance to see the woman, or his mind is showing him great illusions.)

Henry kneels beside her, her cries almost reminding him of Catalina’s during her mourning the death of Arthur; it was melancholic and desperate, desperate that Arthur is gone and is now buried six feet underground.

(He tells her his memory still lives on inside of their minds, and that comforts Catalina, for a short while.)

“Henry”, the woman snarls from underneath her hood and hands, and the man kneeling beside her perks up of his name being mentioned. “I have been loyal... I have been patient... I have been forgiving to you. And this is how thou repay me? By completely abandoning God’s will and I for that wench? My sweet daughter Mary...”

Henry did not have time to open his mouth, to ask her who this ‘Henry’ was (he’s dreading if she says it is he who has forsaken her), he opens his eyes - with a gasp for breath - to find himself in his bed, with Catalina, back turned, sleeping peacefully and blissfully while he is asking himself what in God’s name was that dream all about.

He meets another woman- she was wearing the same hood but it promptly doesn’t cover all of her dark brown hair, her eyes full of anger, anguish, and loathing. She sees him first; her simple yet elegant dress drags on with her as she marches over and grabs Henry by the collar, lips forming a snarl, beautiful almond-shaped eyes glaring at his bug-eyed ones.

(He cannot lie, he is confused yet terrified of this young woman in this dream. He had slept soundly in a stranger woman’s bed during a drunken night, and now he is in the darkest recesses of his mind. Perhaps they were warping his guilt into one woman.)

His eyes hover towards her neck; a shade of red and purple, still bleeding with a huge amount of crimson dripping down her neck and into her dress. The wound was a thin line, like it was made by the sharpest and thinnest blade, and he could not help but cringe and think who had done this to this beautiful and alluring woman.

“You murdered me”, she says through gritted teeth, her hands enclosing in on his clothes. “You murdered your wife. The one who made you do the impossible, yet you murdered me under the guise of your own crimes.”

He tries to find his words, to find appropriate messages to create a speech and tell the woman he is not who she seeks, but only two words come out of his mouth-

“I’m sorry.”

Then he wakes up, Anne Boleyn not under the covers, the clothes in his room all gone like she was just a whisper in the winds.

The blonde woman approaches him with a sad smile, small steps being carried by her feet, looking so dainty and simple and so well-mannered that he wonders if she has any qualms with he.

“My love, you are here”, she says with a small sigh, curtsying in front of him with a dazed and forced smile, as if she did not enjoy his company but practised to the point she had become just a doll.

(She doesn’t look familiar unlike the other two women; but oh Lord, her voice was quite praising.)

“I am... here.” He looks around to find nothingness, numbing him on the inside. “But where is here.”

She giggles in a maternal manner, like one cradling a child with delicacy and caution but with love and intimacy. She - slowly - points her fragile finger towards his chest, her sky blue eyes blinking back at Henry.

“You are here. In your mind, where you belong.”

Henry nods slowly. “...Alright, then. Can you tell me your name?”

She looks at him with an inquisitive manner, before laughing once again, “My goodness, Henry! You have forgotten your wife’s name? It is Jane S-”

He wakes, realising he was in a seating position while he is sleeping, his laptop glows obnoxiously in front of him and with a sigh, he turns it off, wanting to know what in the blazes was going on with his dreams and who that woman who told him she was his wife is.

(He receives an invite to the funeral of one Jane Seymour- his care taker when he was a child, it seems, having given birth to an Edward Seymour a few days earlier but yet she succumbs to death. Her long time friend Joan adopts Edward.)

He dances with the woman in German clothing all night, her dresses embedded with jewels and her hair in a hood just like all others. She was tall yet slim, her face seemingly enjoying her dance with Henry as he laughs too; he has never felt this alive in all his dreams. They stop dancing after spinning many a times, and his world becomes a little more dizzier than it had been a while ago. The woman was giggling and laughing pleasantly, as she curtsies in front of Henry.

“Many say I am ugly”, she says in a thick German accent, eyes twinkling a little. “But I say I am the most beautiful woman in the England entirely; next to your daughters Elizabeth and Mary, of course. None can compete with their beauty- even I, even Katherine Howard.”

Henry smiles awkwardly- how did this woman know of his daughters? Judging by her era of clothing she does not belong in the world of modernity. “Thank you for your compliments, madame.”

She laughs a little, her beautiful voice lighting up the dark skies with flares of stars blinkering and multiplying as she speaks. “I know who has scattered the rumours that I am ugly, disgusting to look at.” She sighs as she looks back at her hands, as if not meeting Henry’s eyes.

Henry’s curiosity peaks, “Who has told you that you are repulsive; you are the most beautiful woman I have met. In my dreams, of course.”

Her eyes level with his, but there is a tinge of darkness. “You.”

And then she dissolves into darkness, the stars that have been created by her voice and laughter dying and being absorbed into the darkness as it devours him whole, urging him to scream-

He wakes up to find Anna, on the bedroom doorway, face full of concern and a glass of water in her hands.

(He wakes up a few days later to get her to the airport so she can be with her art tutor Hans Holbein; she kisses him in the cheek for goodbye and he smiles slightly, not feeling romantic intimacy but a close friendship with her.)

The teenager screams as Henry approaches her, and he stops for a moment, contemplating whether he should comfort her or leave her be- she seems to be scared of him, like he was a predator wanting to eat her up like it was its last meal.

“Don’t hurt me Your Majesty!”, she screams as she trembles ever so slightly, her face stained with tears. “I am sorry that my infidelity has struck you with terrible heartbreak, good King, and I know my punishment is truly right and just.”

His eyes linger on her neck; a mangled mess of bruises, tangled together with her bones and muscles as it crackles and spews out more crimson into the clean and pure skin that has not been decayed nor touched by whatever the hell hurt her.

Henry wakes up to find himself in a park bench, the young girl whom he had given blankets to have a good night’s rest gone.

“Interesting”, the last one looks at him with cold and calculating eyes, sizing him up and down like he was nothing but an ant in her eyes. “We have only met and interacted once, and it is because of you dying; what a pleasure.”

Henry nods slowly, “What is your name, then?”

Her eyes twinkle ever so slightly, “Kateryn Parr.”

Just like that, she scatters to the winds.

#mine #writing #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical fanfic #henry viii #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anne of cleves #catherine howard #catherine parr #tw: death #tw: beheading #tw: wounds

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theolddarkmachine · 4 years

Text

Dead Space - Don’t Open, Dead Inside

It starts the day the hero falls. Crashing in a blaze of glory of twisted metal and burning ozone, he leaves a scar on the Earth that changes everything.

And Keith sees it all.

Chapter 3 of 11

Tags: attempted Horror Elements, Zombies, Violence and Gore, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending i swear

Also on AO3

A/N: Alternatively titled, Don’t Dead Open Inside.

*****************************

Darkness, thick and suffocating, clings to every line of the once thriving city, coloring it a shade of death and decay that made Keith’s skin crawl.

After days of trekking through the desert, they’d come across the silent city, nothing but garbage and rotting gore littering the streets. It left all the tell tale signs of a horde that had moved through, scattering the dead in its wake.

Snaking between the buildings and wrapping them with a forceful hold, the eerie quiet catches in his throat, choking Keith as he continues to walk forward through the emptied streets.

Being trapped in the urban expanse of concrete and steel was far from an ideal. Putting space between themselves and anything that had once resembled civilization had been the only thing to lessen their encounters with those things, but they’d had to pack light, and rations were already low.

Casting a cursory glance over his shoulder, Keith catches Shiro’s attention long enough to signal him forward. Waiting for his nod of confirmation, Keith turns back to face ahead, taking a steadying breath before moving once more at a careful pace.

The darkened husks of emptied, destroyed storefronts mark the buildings as they pass, pushing across the cracked concrete with a singleminded focus until they come across what was once a restaurant. Shattered glass sparkles across the dark ground, remnants of the large window that looked out over the street.

Eyeing the heavy coat of shadows that seep into the restaurant, Keith’s nerves set alight, leaving an ever present thrum of adrenaline that he can feel in his teeth. A sharp, electric tingle works through his limbs with the unused rush as he quietly steps over debris.

Lifting a leg over the window’s ledge, he carefully sets one foot into the abandoned diner. Shiro’s presence is a steady warmth at his back as he takes in the scatter of toppled chairs and tables. Keith can almost see how the occupants must have fled, can almost hear the screams, as the undead had crashed through the windows. Stinking of rot and covered in blood, he can almost imagine the palpable sense of dread as they’d begun to tear the flesh from their victims’ bones.

Quickly shaking the image from his mind, Keith pushes his other leg over, ignoring the sharp sting at his thigh as his leg catches on some of the leftover glass jutting out from the window pane.

It’s something to take care of later, he thinks, as he feels the warmth of blood seep slowly into the fabric of his jeans. Sidestepping more broken glass, Keith throws a quick look over his shoulder to make sure Shiro makes it over the window’s ledge before turning his attention back to the space ahead of him.

The gaping maw of an entryway stands proud ahead of them, its shape giving way to an indescribable black. A thrill rolls through his body, spreading a cascade of goosebumps along his skin as he silently makes his way towards what he can only assume is the kitchen.

Pulling his dagger free from its sheath at his hip, Keith holds it at the ready as he reaches the entrance, pausing long enough to listen for any noise. Met by the near unbearable sound of silence, Keith pushes himself through the kitchen door.

Several moments pass as he lets his eyes adjust to the lack of light, the pounding of his heart in his chest a steady drumbeat that battles the thick silence. Making a move to head further into the kitchen, Keith jumps slightly as he feels a soft tap on his shoulder.

Turning to look back at Shiro, the taller man fixes him with a meaningful stare as he gestures down to Keith’s leg. Not bothering to turn his attention to the cut, Keith rolls his eyes before mouthing “don’t worry about it.”

It earns him a scoff as Shiro drops down to his knees before him, looking up in silent warning as he pulls a bandana from his jacket pocket. Keeping his eyes trained on Keith’s, he slowly rolls it into a thick strip of fabric before wrapping it around his thigh over the cut. Ever so gently, he ties it, catching Keith’s slight grimace as the pressure makes the wound sear once more.

Finally flicking his gaze down to his work, Shiro leans in tortuously slow and brushes his lips over the fabric. The gesture makes Keith’s heart squeeze as a sudden burst of flames ignites his blood.

Almost as if he knows what he’s done, Shiro cuts his silver stare up toward him with a wicked, scythe of a smile. It buries itself deep in Keith’s chest, punching the very breath from his lungs.

Frozen there, in the dark with Shiro’s hands at his thigh, he swallows down the sudden flaring desire.

“Asshole,” he hisses lowly without much bite as he pushes his head gently away.

Shiro’s low, rumbling laugh is a light in the darkness as Keith turns away to begin his search for supplies.

A thick layer of grime and dust blankets the steel surfaces of the kitchen’s appliances, rendering them even more dull in the unlit room as Keith slowly makes his way through the space. Discarded utensils lay strewn across the ground, and litter the counters, painting a havoc ridden portrait of what had happened here.

Something catches the corner of Keith’s boot suddenly, shattering the quiet with the sharp grating scratch of metal against tile. The unnatural shriek of it freezes his muscles, locking him into place as his breath stalls in his throat.

Stuck still under the crush of the awful silence left in its wake, Keith waits.

For something.

For anything.

Any sign that the sudden sound may have given their position away.

Waiting until the aching burn in his lungs is unbearable, Keith finally lets his breath out, low and slow, before looking toward where Shiro still stands at the doorway. Watching the careful way he shakes his head in silent answer, Keith turns back to his task, making quick work of looting the kitchen.

Rucksack slightly heavier with an unopened pack of beans, a two half filled containers of pasta, and a baguette that hadn’t molded too badly, Keith quickly pushes back through the chaos of the ruined kitchen to return to Shiro.

Offering the taller man a small, victorious smile and a quick jerk of his head, it’s then that he hears the soft scrape of wood against linoleum. Thrill going through him and forcing his body rigid, Keith watches as a divot digs itself deep between Shiro’s brows as his eyes go steely. The barely there reach of moonlight sparks as he cuts his attention to the main area of the restaurant.

Following his eye line, Keith tracks the length of dirty tile to the far side of the dining area. Dim moonlight cuts through the shadows, illuminating a stumbling figure as it pushes against the corner of a table, eliciting another soft moan of its legs against the ground.

The zombie’s hair is thin and brittle, clinging sadly to its scalp in patchy clumps and exposing the grey of death that has turned its skin a pallid color. Sections of muscle and bone peak out through the decaying, shedding flesh, no longer a healthy red but a sick, deathly black.

Keith’s gaze continues down over its body towards the creature’s hands where they sway at its waist curled into claws, and from them, loose skin hangs like limp cloth.

The smell hits him next, burning the back of his throat with the acrid scent of rot. Swallowing down the tang of bile that tickles the back of his tongue, Keith continues to watch the way the zombie fumbles forward aimlessly.

It doesn’t seem that it has quite caught onto their existence in the space yet, most likely only pulled toward the restaurant by the sound of the utensil he’d kicked earlier.

Mentally chiding himself for the mistake, Keith watches as the undead finally pushes past the table, freed from the minor barrier as it continues its blind shuffle toward the small hall opposite of where they stand.

Looking quickly over to Shiro, he raises a finger to his lips before pointing it over to the door straight ahead of them in signal. There’s a weighted pause, as Shiro keeps his gaze locked toward the zombie on the other side of the room before he finally tears it away to nod.

Moving swiftly and quietly through, they keep their attention toward the groaning sound of the undead until they’ve pushed past the broken door and out into the cool night.

Sharp, dry air pushes against them, almost as if ushering them to move quicker to their bike and its hidden position at the entrance of the city. Stinging worry creeps itself along the collar of Keith’s jacket, tickling his nape as he shifts his gaze back and forth along the street.

Searching the inky tendrils of night that stretch the moonlit shadows across the dark concrete, Keith lets his hold on his dagger tighten as he presses forward.

It isn’t until they’re a couple hundred feet from the restaurant that he lets his lungs expand around the first real breath he’s taken since stepping into the building. It’s a shaky thing as it slips between his teeth.

Halting his forward motion, he turns to face Shiro, catching the way a small smile, tender and sweet, has turned his lips up in quiet success.

The moment of it lasts for the single, small eternity of a second before it all comes crashing down.

A scraping, guttural sound caught between a shriek of blood curdling rage and a moan of pain cuts through the night. It’s a call, one signaling an oncoming death and it makes his veins go cold with dread.

The scream raises high into the sky again, louder, already closer and now Keith hears the stamping sound of running. Flipping quickly toward the sound, knife already raised before him, he sees the quick moving bodies of the undead as they clumsily charge forward.

“Fuck,” Keith breathes, tracking the couple of blocks that stand between them and the hoard. At the rate they’re moving, he knows there’s no way to outrun them.

They’d have to fight.

Reading the situation, Shiro moves to his side, pulling the long hunting knife at his thigh from its sheath. Knuckles going white with his grip, he’s silent as he studies the approaching hoard and its loose formation.

Keith watches as one of the undead toward the front lets its jaws crack impossibly wide around the piercing sound of its scream.

“Take the two coming up on the left, and I’ll take the two right here front and center,” Shiro says, tone strong and authoritative as he keeps focus on the oncoming stampede. Flicking his gaze toward him, Keith takes in the strong set of his jaw and the sureness of Shiro’s stance. The command of his presence is almost intoxicating, and Keith can’t help but bite down on the edge of his knifed grin as he nods before taking off.

With his boots pounding loudly against the pavement, he catches the attention of the moving zombies as they pull even further ahead of their group. The smell reaches him before the undead do, turning his stomach and almost forcing a painful retch from his mouth.

It’s a stronger stink than the one in the restaurant, only proving that these ones have been dead for far longer.

Time seems to peter out and stall, as they converge on him, both running toward him from opposing sides. He sees the attack with a bright clarity, waiting until the last possible second before spinning over his shoulder, moving out of the way just in time to force them into each other with the full brunt of their movement.

There’s a snarl and the vicious snap of teeth as one tears a piece of flesh from the other’s cheek, leaving coagulated blood smeared across their decaying faces.

Taking advantage of the moment, Keith moves lithely behind the pair, plunging his knife into the back of the closest zombie’s head. The bone crunches as the metal breaks through, releasing black viscous fluid around the dagger and the concentrated stench of rot from inside the zombie’s body.

Gritting his teeth against the burning bile that fills his mouth, Keith pulls his knife free as the undead’s companion turns on him, mouth gaping wide around a dry roar. Lunging forward, the zombie’s teeth click together loudly as they just barely miss his wrist.

The zombie screeches as it tumbles forward, losing its balance before Keith snakes an arm quickly around its middle. Stumbling ever so slightly with the sudden shift in weight, he pushes the dagger deep into the side of its neck until it meets the hard resistance of its spine.

Growling lowly, Keith twists the knife, separating its spine from its skull.

As if turning off a switch, the undead goes limp in his arms.

“Keith!” Shiro calls out, panic turning his name sharp on his tongue. It pulls his attention behind him just in time to see one of the creatures bound toward him, breaking free of the group with its teeth bared.

Without the time to move out of the way thanks to the limp body still in his arms, Keith braces himself for an impact that doesn’t come as a gunshot shatters the air.

A cool wetness hits his face as blood and viscera spatters dark across his skin.

Then it falls, crumpling at his feet with a dull thud.

“What the fuck?” Keith whispers, pulling his dagger free and dropping the carcass in his arms beside the one before him.

Quickly spinning around another zombie, he blindly attacks, sinking his knife into unseen flesh as he sweeps his gaze back and forth across the street in search of the the source of the gunshot.

Another rings out, clear and deafening as it cuts down another close by zombie.

Then another.

And another.

They continue until bodies litter the street, and the dark, congealed blood turns the dark pavement a darker, sinful shade.

Keith finds Shiro quickly, their breathing mirrored as the sound of their heaving is the only thing left in the once again silence of the night.

A steady pulse of adrenaline marks the heavy beat of his heart as Keith keeps his dagger at the ready. Dragging his gaze up towards the tops of the buildings, he searches the dark windows and vacant roofs for any sign of life.

“Keith,” Shiro says under his breath, snatching his attention back to the ground. Following his gaze toward the alley just diagonal from where they stand, he sees a figure moving forward from the shadows.

Military gear hugs the stranger’s shape, adding bulk to a skinny frame. Dark cloth covers half of their face, leaving nothing but bright blue eyes and a mop of messy brown hair exposed. A rifle, long and deadly, hangs idly across the stranger’s chest, as they continues to move toward them with their hands up.

“No need to thank us, buddy,” the figure— a man— says. The voice is gratingly familiar as Keith tightens his grasp on his knife. Keeping his gaze on him, he feels like the man’s name is on the tip of his tongue.

“Who—” Keith starts, too preoccupied to note the sudden presence behind him. Sharp pain explodes at the back of his head, spotting his vision with flashes of light before everything fades away to black.

****************************

#takashi shirogane #keith kogane #sheith #do i know that's an awfully cliche title to use?#yes yes i do #i swear they get much better lol #but like cmon how could i resist lol

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lashtoncurls · 5 years

Text

Heart Shaped Pancakes(AI)

Summary: Valentines day/birthday morning with Ashton

Words: 1,729

Warnings: Smut, some cursing

Ashton propped himself up on his elbow as he admired her peaceful face; her hair draped carefully over her cheek and lips slightly parted as she breathed deeply. Snaking his hand past her hips and bed shorts, Ashton dropped his fingertips to her smooth thighs, tracing light patterns on her skin. She inhaled deeply; her entire body stretching slightly, before resuming its original position. Ashton smiled to himself, grazing his thumb further up her thigh as Ashton passed the flimsy material, continuing hisl touch to the very top of her thigh. Bowing his head towards her neck, Ashton let his hot breath wash over her skin, before pressing his lips gently just behind her ear, rolling his thumb lightly across her clit. Removing his lips from her skin, Ashton averted his gaze to her face; her features contorting slightly as he applied more pressure between her legs. A slight moan escaped her lips as she exhaled deeply; her aroused body quickly waking up

“Happy birthday, baby.” Ashton whispered in her ear before kissing along her jaw to her lips. Only her birthday was also Valentines day, and he wanted to give her her first gift of the day. She groaned, her lips taking a while to respond to his. Her eyes fluttered open, her lashes tickling his skin as her lips worked softly against his and her body became restless beneath his touch.

Swinging his leg over her waist, Ashton began kissing her more passionately. Their tongues entwining as her hands ran up the backs of his thighs. She smiled into his lips as Ashton began moving his thumb against her clit again, causing her hips to twitch instinctively.

Bringing his lips from hers, Ashton travelled down her neck placing light kisses on her skin. She sank back into the pillow as Ashton worked his way across her collar bones, slow fingers pushing the material of her tank top up her ribs as Ashton revealed her breasts. He flicked his hot tongue across her nipplesas her back arched off the bet to his mouth, as low moans and groans escaped her lips while her hands pulled on the curls.

Sliding his tongue between her lips, Ashton dragged it down her stomach, placing damp kisses across her hip bones as he slid her shorts down her thighs. Ashton pushed her legs apart slowly, his erection growing as Ashton admired her. Her breathing was becoming increasingly heavy as his hot breath washed between her legs, his lips quickly finding her worked up skin as Ashton teased her inner thighs. She bit down on her lip as Ashton looked up at her before running his tongue along the length of her core, his nose brushing her clit. Everything about her was delicious- her smell, her taste. She let out a light moan as Ashton repeated his movement, this time reaching her clit with his tongue and focusing his attention there.

“You taste so good.” Ashton murmured, sucking lightly on her clit as he slowly pushed a finger inside of her.

Ashton loved how excited he made her, and the feeling was undeniably mutual. She was incredible. He was completely in love with her, and this made things so much more intense. Her hips rocked back and forth restlessly as Ashton moved his finger slowly inside her, alternating his lips and tongue to her clit.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed throughout the room and the door opened. Ashton was soon in complete darkness as the thick duvet covered his body. Ashton paused for a moment, steadying his breathing as footsteps were heard across the floorboards, her fingers pushed into his scalp as Ashton listened to the muffled conversation above.

“Happy birthday, babe!” The familiar voice spoke. It was her roommate. “Where’s Ashton?”

Ashton smirked between her legs and flicked his tongue across her clit lightly, completely amused as her legs tensed.

“B-bathroom.” She hurriedly answered, his finger now stroking her g-spot slowly.

“Oh, I didn’t see him as I passed?” She responded, his tongue now applying a firm pressure on her.

She was completely helpless. Any unusual wriggling or heavy breathing would end up in awkwardness for everyone involved, and Ashton could tell by her tense fingers in his hair how much she was struggling.

“Oh. We’ll be down in a bit.” She breathed heavily, her voice strained.

“I’ll make breakfast for you both then. He’ll love heart shaped pancakes.” Her roommate spoke softly with a giggle, followed by the sound of footsteps and a click of the door.

Throwing the duvet from himself, Ashton re-emerged as he gasped for air. Her face flushed as Ashton looked up at her from between her legs , his head thrown back in laughter.

“You asshole.” She laughed, hitting him playfully on the top of his arm before pushing his curls from his damp forehead.

Ashton couldn’t help but grin as he raised his eyebrow, before moving up her torso and pressing his lips to hers, sinking into her hot and slightly clammy body. Lapping his tongue along her lower lip, Ashton snaked his fingers up between them and along her jaw, eventually brushing her arousal across her lips. She smirked before lowering her eyes, flicking her tongue out over the tips of his wet finger.

“Do that again.” She mumbled, pressing her lips softly to his.

“Whatever you want, birthday girl.”

Within seconds, Ashton was back between her legs; a combination of his fingers and tongue making her entire body shake fervently. Her soft moans were driving him insane, his crotch throbbing and heart pounding.

“Stop Ash, please.” She whimpered, trying to wriggle from his touch as she pressed her palm to her head.

Ignoring her pleas, Ashton worked his fingers harder, knowing just how close she was.

“N-not yet.” she whispered breathlessly, throwing her head back as her climax peaked and her body jerked as Ashton slowed down his movements. Placing a gentle kiss on her clit, Ashton removed his fingers from her and knelt between her legs, her eyes dark and burning into his before they moved down his body and to his strained crotch. He hooked his thumbs beneath the band of his black boxers, slowly sliding them from his hips and down past his thighs until he was completely exposed.

She bit down on her lip, her breasts rising and falling sharply as she eyed his hard length.

“Come’re.” she whispered, flicking her eyes up to his as she pulled him towards her. Her fingertips found his length quickly, brushing lightly as she ran them over each defined ridge and bump, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I need to feel you, baby.” She moaned as their lips were achingly close and their hot breaths encompassed the air surrounding them.

Dropping his eyes between them, Ashton let her guide his length towards her; his hand lifting her leg over his waist as she brought the other one up instinctively and crossed her ankles on his back. She pursed her lips as Ashton nudged the head of his cock into her, their eyes failing to break contact.

“Ashton-” She whimpered quietly as he rolled his hips further towards her; her fingers digging into his arm and heels into the small of his back as Ashton filled her completely. A rush of adrenaline shot through him at the familiar incredible sensation of her around him.

“You okay?” Ashton whispered, grazing his nose on hers as she nodded.

Ashton withdrew almost completely before thrusting in with slightly more force, her lips parting as she gasped for air and his arms trembled as he held himself up above her. Her eyes were fixed between them as she watched his movements intently; his hips moving painfully slowly and thighs flexing as Ashton penetrated her deeply.

He kept her gaze as he picked up his pace, light moans escaping her lips on every thrust.

“Faster.” She urged breathlessly, digging her heels into his back as she tugged at his lower lip with her teeth.

Not needing to be told twice, Ashton moved his hips harder and faster than before, her hands gripping on tightly to the rails behind as she attempted to still her body between his and the mattress below.

“Fuck..” She hissed, her head tilting backwards as she began to tighten around him.

“Oh God Ash, I’m close…”

“Yeah?” Ashton smirked panting as he crashed his hips down harder onto hers, sweat dripping from his brow and chest as their bodies remained hot and close.

“Yes, ugh.” She moaned, her back snapping up towards me as she bit down on her lip to stop herself from screaming out, her eyes shut tightly as his crotch rubbed relentlessly against her clit with each thrust. Pushing her knee to her chest, Ashton deepened his angle, knowing that this would be all she needed.

“Come on baby.” He groaned deeply, smirking down at her “Almost there.”

Reaching between her legs, Ashton rolled his thumb over her clit and her body reached its high within seconds as she moaned his name repeatedly. Ashton could feel the veins pulsing in his neck as his heartbeat drummed against his chest and toes began to curl. Her tense, trembling body quickly sent him over the edge, his whole body shaking as Ashton let go and a completely indescribable ecstasy surged through him. Ashton’s thrusts eventually became slow and relaxed as they both relished in the after-effects of their orgasms. Breathless sighs and soft laughter filled the room. She reciprocated his grin as Ashton pushed his sweaty curls from his head, their bodies still connected as they both gasped desperately for air.

“I love you.” She said softly, her lips meeting Ashton’s as he pulled out of her.

“I love you too.” Ashton smiled, grazing his thumb along her cheek before kissing her damp forehead.

“Now let’s get some clothes on, I’m starving after that. And heart shaped pancakes sound delicious.” Ashton laughed, nudging her in the ribs as he tickled her out of the bed.

“Ashton!” she squealed, wriggling from his merciless fingertips and darting across the room. When he caught up to her, he pressed his lips to hers and his fingers slowly making their way to her lower stomach.

“Yes?” Ashton looked at her innocently.

She grinned, pulling a shirt that belonged to him over her head. “Let’s do that later.”

tags: @slimthicccal @myloverboyash @lashtonchesthair @calumrude @lukesflaredpants @angelbbycal @roselukes @snapbackcake @dweebluke @calthesensation @toofadedtofight

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin blurbs #ashton irwin imagines #5sos #5sos imagines #5sos blurbs #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imsagines #5 seconds of summer blurbs #luke hemmings #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings imagines #michael clifford #michael clifford blurb #michael clifford imagines

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angelskyladiana · 5 years

Text

Confused? (Mysterio)

FULL MASTERLIST

Prologue

Summary: Quentin Beck's life was over the moment he was fired from STARK industries. He was unstable. To be frank, he felt like his life had no meaning. He was on a downward spiral in every way, but it was the best thing to ever happen to him. Because he had her.

Too bad it wasn’t the same for her.

Warnings: Mental abuse, manipulation, swearing, violence

Word Count: 1504

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

2016

The dark-haired woman jolted from her sleep, her dark eyes were wide and eyebrows raised in fear. The noise echoed throughout the apartment, hitting every wall harshly and then it happened again, and again, and again. Brows furrowed at the sound of something heavy hitting walls downstairs, her mouth went dry at the thought of what could be lurking in the apartment.

CRASH! That was probably a chair, the wooden piece of furniture crashing and breaking against the wall. A shiver ran down her spine, urging her out of the bed and towards the door, locking it quickly and sitting against it. She only hoped the noise was actually real and not another figment of her imagination, but in all honestly and as ashamed as she was, the dark-haired woman wouldn't be able to tell. They hadn't happened in a long time, but she'd rather believe whatever was downstairs was real rather than fake.

It happened again, and then a yell sounded. A scream. It was the sound of a deep screech of complete anger and fury. "Fuck!" The voice shouted before another crash sounded, probably another article of furniture. Mutterings continued through the house, bouncing off the walls and drifting closer and closer to where she was situated on the floor.

Their steps were heavy as they climbed the stairs, each stair creaking under the weight of the person stumbling up them. It sounded as if every step, they seemed to hit the wall at the same time. It made her cringe outwardly, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth as if to soothe herself. A shadow was soon seen at her feet, the only thing keeping it from reaching her was the dark wooden door.

Suddenly it was quiet. Deep breathing was heard almost as if it was right at her ear. The knob on the door turned before stopping, rattling, until finally knocking lightly. "Princess..." the voice groaned, it was a voice she knew well, a voice she heard every day. Slowly she stood, trembling hands reaching for the lock until it shook again from him hitting it. "Rora!" he continued, beating harsher on the door once more causing her to jump and step further away from the door. Her hands shook at her sides, the patterns starting to emerge, swirling shapes on the doors usually bland exterior. "Princess, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you... Please open the door."

The man on the other side could hear the woman give out three shaky deep breaths before hearing the latch click. Slowly the door creaked open, exposing her beautifully defined features to him. She was shaking, no doubt seeing something that wasn't there, maybe it was him. She couldn't possibly know in her condition. The tall man quickly sauntered into the room, his hands gently cradling the sides of her face in an instant. His large eyes widened as he watched her every expression.

The constant gaze of his light blue eyes both calmed her and made her heart beat erratically. "What, uh, what happened?" She whispered, almost as if she didn't want him to hear her. His jaw clenched, eyes glazed, thinking back to what has . "Q?" She quizzed, hands grasping his own, feeling them shake under her own somewhat shaky grasp.

"He called it barf." He stated shakily, eyes casting down to the ground rather than straight at her.

Her brow raised, "who? Wha-"

His arms dropped quickly, cutting her off, "Tony Stark!" Her loves eyes were wide once more in anger, causing her to lean back from him slightly.

"Your boss?" She mumbled, eyes trained on his. Out of the both of them, it seemed the one who didn't have mental problems was acting mental.

Upon seeing her panicked state, the tall man's hands fell, instead holding her hands and walking her over to the bed, sitting her down. His feet walked away, pacing side to side in front of her, the way his fingers scrapped down his scalp made it look as if he was to rip his hair out, the vein above his brow already protruding. "The holographic technology I was designing, I perfected it, and he stole it! My life's work! He used it for his own therapy and said he designed it!" His hands fell from his hair, coming in front of his body and moving down as if the product was right in front of him. His screeching voice echoed off the wall, hurting her eardrums.

The pain in his voice struck her heart, causing her to lift from the bed and step towards him, dragging him to her previous spot. Their fingers were intertwined with one another's, his eyes staring straight ahead into nothingness. "It's okay, I'm sure if you asked him he'd be more than happy to credit you, and change the systems name, of course."

What she thought would have been words to reassure him only seemed to distress him more. His head fell into his hands harshly, body still shaking as if he were about to break down sobbing, "I can't," he uttered miserably.

She kneeled down in front of him, reaching her hands to his slight stubble and lifting his face to be almost level with hers, "Q? What happened?"

His bright eyes looked at her with complete and utter defeat, "I lost my job."

"What?" The black haired, woman questioned in complete shock.

"I got fired." Quentin sighed, the entire weight of his head practically supported by her. He watched her face drop and eyes grow hazed over at his words, waiting for her to yell or cry or do something, anything. But she didn't. In all honesty that was probably worse, she looked completely numb to what he had said and frankly disappointed, "I'm sorry. I got angry, I yelled and I just-"

For a moment they sat in complete silence, as if struggling to make sense of the words he had spoken. He didn't know what else to say, and what could he say? That he was called unstable? That in a matter of months they wouldn't be able to make rent, afford food? He had promised to take care of her, give her everything she could ever want and this is what he had done. Quentin's ego had gone and messed it all up like it always seemed to do.

Her eyes looked rimmed with tears ready to fall, her voice shook like the rest of her, "baby, it's okay, its fine," she interrupted, "I got you."

He just continued muttering his apologies, leaning into her until her arms and holding her tightly. Her fingers comb through his hair, feeling his breath and tears hit her collar bone.

"We can sort this out, you can get a new job and I can go out and find one-" She began again, only for her beloved to cut her off with a panicked expression.

"No, no, no you can't." he exclaimed with a sigh, "princess, you know you can't."

She smiled, eyes full of hope and confidence- something of which she had lacked for quite a while. "I could, baby, I'm so much better now."

His eyes didn't blink once, tongue licking over his teeth. He looked deep in thought about his next few words, "Rora..."

Her name, that was all he spoke, the look on her face distracting him from what he was going to say. Her eyes pleaded with his own, all she had wanted was to get out of the house and have her own... anything. Quentin and her shared everything, that was how relationships worked after all. Ever since her diagnosis that caused her to quit her job, distance herself from people and mainly stay in the apartment, the troubled woman had since struggled to do things that most people found easy. But after two years sine the diagnosis, she had never felt better, ready to go back to work and have some form of a lie outside of the world.

Quentin gulped back, "I don't think thats a good idea," he spoke, shutting her down and watching her expression drop completely. He didn't like that. "But, uh, how about we see if anything changes in a few months?"

Her beautiful white teeth peaked through her lips, eyes almost glittering with happiness. "Deal!" She shrieked with joy. The love her life seemed hesitant but he only wanted what was best for her, even if she didn't realise it sometimes. Even if she didn't want him to.

"I'm gonna make this up to you," He promised, lifting his face and placing his lips to her cheek beside her ear, "this Earth and the next."

"This Earth and the next," The dark-skinned woman agreed with a whisper.

Chapter 1: Peaceful

#mysterio #yandere #oc #fanfiction #imagine #quentin beck #love story

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notforonesecond · 6 years

Text

November 12th - Day 7: Free day

Light Sunday Smut with a rushed ending. A03

"I still don't see the point in them." Aaron chuckled to himself, shaking his head slightly.

"They hold my trousers up?" Robert replied, a knowing look on his face.

They'd been out for dinner with some clients of Robert's and were finally making their way back home, stumbling down the gravel towards their house.

They'd consumed rather a lot of wine throughout the evening, Aaron feeling extra giddy from the change of alcohol.

He'd made a point of disliking Robert's choice of fashion tonight since the moment he got dressed. He was never really one for fashion and had decided the suspenders Robert was wearing were not his thing. .

"You should of just worn a belt." Aaron replied, mirroring the same knowing look Robert gave him.

"They look good." Robert continued, trying to sound convincing as their shoulders bumped against each other.

"They don't." Aaron snorted which caused Robert to come to a halt outside their front door.

"Are you saying I don't look good?" Robert asked, faking offence with his bottom lip pushed out, hands sulked on his hips.

Robert was in a playful mood, Aaron could sense it. He had been all night, discreetly running his hand up and down Aaron's thigh under the table and making innuendos that he knew only Aaron would figure out.

Although it was all met with a roll of the eyes from Aaron, secretly he was loving it.

He didn't need to answer Robert's question. He did look good, he always looked good. As much as Aaron hated the suspenders, they were working miracles on Robert's ass, shaping the curve much more than a simple belt ever could. It had been a task for Aaron to tear his eyes away for most of the night.

"I'm saying you look like a geek." Aaron confirmed, taking the smallest of steps closer to Robert.

"I look suave." Robert replied, smugly. He hooked each of his thumbs under the suspenders and pulled slightly, letting them hit back on his chest with a twang.

It was met with another eye roll from Aaron.

He could feel the alcohol rushing through his veins as he swayed slightly, the heat of Robert's breath on his lips from how close they now stood was making him light headed.

He reached out to hook a finger under one of the suspenders draped over Robert's toned torso.

Robert looked down towards his chest, a quizzical look on his face, before feeling his body pulled forward slightly by the tug of the material.

Within seconds Aaron had pulled Roberts lips down onto his own, clashing their teeth together in the process as he tugged his body up against his, grabbing fistfuls of Robert's white shirt. Robert's lips were motionless at first, startled by the abrupt encounter, but he quickly fell into the rhythm as he felt Aaron's tongue flicker across his plump bottom lip, asking for permission to enter.

Robert allowed it almost instantly, as Aaron stumbled back, his body hitting the front door of their home, pulling Robert with him as their bodies pressed together.

Aaron's legs parted as one of Robert's legs slid in between. They'd done this enough times now to know how it went. Their bodies fitting together like the missing piece of a Jigsaw as Robert grinded against Aaron's thigh.

The abrupt, intense passion of the kiss making Robert already semi hard, which Aaron could feel pressed against the thickness of his thighs. It made his own cock jerk to life, adrenaline pumping down his body.

Robert's large hands cupped either side of Aaron's face as he became breathless, his lips wet and stinging from the kiss.

Aaron pulled away, fistfuls of Robert's shirt still remained in his hands, he took a moment to let his eyes scan over the man in front of him.

There was a perfect mixture of shock and want written all over Robert's face. His semi hard cock still pressed up again Aaron's leg. Robert's tongue darted out onto his bottom lip, which now felt cold due to the loss of contact.

The gesture made Aaron weak at the knees, he couldn't resist another taste as he pushed forward, a quick, longing kiss pressed against Robert's lips.

He slid his hands down the length of Robert's body, coming to a halt just above the waistband of his pants, fiddling with the bottom of the suspenders. They felt rough under his fingertips.

"Upstairs." Aaron mumbled against Robert's mouth before pulled away, sliding his hand further south and cupping Robert's erection.

All Robert could do was nod dumbfoundedly as Aaron turned round to open the door, Robert's hands now clutching at his waist.

It was unusual for Aaron to be dominant, but Robert couldn't find it in him to complain as he felt the swelling in his groin become more intense.

It was turning him on massively.

Once inside, Aaron wasted little time, pulling at Robert's hand and leading him straight to their bedroom.

"What's brought this on?" Robert asked, voice low and husky as his body hit the wall behind him, Aaron's hands sliding down the suspenders as his lips took home on his neck.

Aaron didn't answer, not willing to give up the information he's been withholding. Not wanting to admit how good Robert looked tonight in his outfit, not willing to feed his ego.

Robert's resistance comes crashing down as soon as Aaron's lips connect to his neck, a small moan releasing from his throat.

The kisses turn from soft to urgent as Aaron began to work on Robert's buttons, nipping at the now visible collar bone.

Robert felt himself rub agains his trousers, now fully hard as his hands pulled at the hem of Aaron's shirt.

Aaron removed his lips from Robert's body and allowed him to pull off his shirt. The smell of Robert's expensive aftershave still tingling inside his nose.

He took a second to appreciate the sight in front of him. Luscious gold locks and piercing blue - green eyes. He grabbed his bottom lip between his teeth at the sight of a half naked Robert.

Robert stepped closer, closing the gap as he lifted his thumb up to Aaron's lips, removing his bottom lip from in-between his teeth.

It lingered there for a second, and Aaron sees an opportunity and goes for it. Taking Robert's thumb inside his mouth and sucking lightly, all while staring into his lovers eyes

Robert's lost for words, his cock twitching. He's coming completely undone at this bolder side of Aaron and he is loving every second of it.

Aaron released Robert's thumb and returned to his lips, pushing their bodies towards the bed. He could feel Robert's thumbs making bruises in his hip bones but he relished in it.

He felt the back of Robert's legs hit the bed as he pushed his body down on it, hovering over Robert.

He climbed on top of the blond, straddling his hips as a mischievous smile builds on his lips.

"What?" Robert questioned, noticing the grin appearing on the younger mans face as his hands lay on his waist.

Aaron didn't respond, and Robert was getting frustrated with the lack of communication going on.

He jumped off Robert's lap, making his way over to the other side of the bedroom, shirtless but still wearing his jeans.

"What are you-?" Robert began, brow furrowed by Aaron's unusual actions of the night.

He knelt down to pick something up off the floor before making his way over to the bed. Robert couldn't make out what it is in the dark of the room, Aaron hiding the object behind his back.

"Close your eyes" He almost growled and Robert is taken back by the aggression.

He did as he's told, intrigued and sexually frustrated all in one. His blond lashes flutter against his check as he feels Aaron climb back onto his hips, his erection pulsing at full force now. Aaron's own hardening clock pushed up against his thigh.

Robert kept his eyes closed, trying his best to be obedient even when he feels Aaron's hands around his wrist, moving his arms above his head. He wanted more than anything to peak through his lashes and she what he's up to.

Then he felt it.

The rough material wrapping around his wrists as his hands are tied up against the headboard of their bed.

He could feel Aaron's hot breath on the side of his face and in confusion he opens his eyes, furrows his brow as Aaron straddled his lap with a devious smile on his face.

"Wha- What are you doing?" Robert questioned, his hands strain as he tried to move them, tugs at the headboard they're attached to.

"I'm in control tonight." Aaron smirked as his mouth lingered over one of Robert's nipples. He looked up through his lashes, Roberts face instantly relaxing, he could sense the questions begging to be heard from Robert, but he ignored them.

Aaron darted his lips down, taking Robert's nipple between his teeth and biting lightly.

The gasp that escaped Robert's mouth only pushed Aaron's arousal more as he moved his lips lower down, can feel Robert's erection twitching between their body's as he fidgets under Aaron's weight.

"I want to touch you." Robert complained, a look of frustration on his face as his hands tensed above his head.

"Not tonight." Aaron smirked as he removed the remainder of Robert's clothing.

Robert debated protesting, but it's cut short as Aaron leans down with hollowed cheeks and takes all of Robert at once, deciding to end the teasing.

It's powerful and liberating and Aaron never forgot the noises that escaped Robert's throat as he sucked and licked his way up the his shaft Can still hear the way he called his name as he crouched on his lap, balancing his legs either side of Robert as he grinded down. Will never forgot the look of pure shock and enjoyment as he collapsed into Robert's body, eventually finding the strength to untie his arms.

Robert stared wearing suspenders a lot more often after that night.

#aaronweek2017 #aaron x robert #aaron dingle #robert sugden #robron #smut #fanfiction

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soaimagines · 7 years

Text

Waiting

Request: Opie imagine where you haven't seen him in a week cause he's on a run, when he gets home your waiting in the bedroom for him.

Contains Smut 😉💦

Everything about Opie was a turn on to you. His dark brooding eyes, his long thick hair, his soft lips, his height, his strong muscly arms, his tattoos. The way he looked at you in the mornings when he's just woken up, the way he looked at you when he was angry, the way he looked at you when he came home after a long day. The way he looks at you with such hunger. The way his booming laugh echoed through your quiet house. The way he walked with such confident strides, danger radiating off him. The way he rode his bike, his large strong hands gripping the handle bars, the wind blowing through his hair. The sound of his voice, so loud and deep his words left goosebumps on your skin. Opie wasn't much of a talker, but when you were in the bedroom it was a very different story. God, that man knew all the right words to say to have you begging for more. You had always had a thing for bad boys, and as much as Opie wanted to be good, you loved him even more when he was being bad. It had been a week since he had left on the run and you were counting down to the very second he would be back. You knew when he asked you to be his ild lady that there would be times when he'd have to go away. You just didn't expect it to be in the ‘honeymoon’ phase of your relationship. The last few weeks the two of you had been fucking like rabbits. Being away from him for so long hadn't been good for you. In fact, you'd been a grumpy bitch ever since he'd rode out of Charming. You’re work mates were sick you. Hell, even your boss had sent you home early today after having enough of your mood swings. Gemma was sick of you moping around the clubhouse too. She was used to it. Having Clay go away on runs had become common for her, and for Tara and the rest of the old ladies.However, this was your first and if you had it your way, it would be the last. Opie had called you a few hours ago, to let you know they were on their way back and you had been ecstatic ever since. The house was spotless, the sheets were clean, your skin was practically glistening and your hair was freshly washed and dried. Now all you had to do was wait. And so you sat on the edge of your bed, the black lingerie clinging tightly to your skin and the scent or your perfume lingering in the air.

You bit your lip when you heard the front door open and all the built up lust and hunger came flooding through you like a wave. “Babe?” Opie called out. “Im in the bedroom.” You called back. You heard his bags drop to the floor and you tucked your hair behind your ears, the anticipation almost becoming too much for you to bare. You heard dull thumps as Opie kicked off his boots while he walked down the hallway and before you knew it the door flung open and there he was. His tall figure loomed in the door way and you blushed under his gaze as he took in the sight of you. You stood, letting your hair fall down your shoulders and you walked towards him. The matching lingerie set had been a gift you'd purchased for him, but you'd never had a chance to give it to him. Yet. “Holy shit.” Opie whispered as you sauntered towards him, swaying your hips as you walked. You had to fight the urge to run and leap into his arms, but you had missed him and you wanted him to yearn for you the way you had for him. You stopped before him and traced your arms along his shoulders. His rough hands laid gently on your hips and you reached up on your tip toes to kiss him. The moment your lips touched the heat built within you and neither of you could contain yourselves. You moaned into his mouth as he lifted your body, your legs wrapping around his waist and he carried you to the bed, a sudden urgency taking over. He laid you down and hovered over you as your lips moved in harmony. His body laid between your legs and you lifted your hips, desperate for some kind of friction and Opie growled against your lips. Eventually you came up for air and he lifted his head only for a moment. You both grinned at each other before his lips were crashing down on yours once more. His kisses became soft and slow, teasing you as his tongue licked along your bottom lip. You could feel how hard he was already, his bulge was pressed against you in just the right spot. Opie lifted his body off you and stood as he lifted his arms to removes kutte. Before he could, however you sat up and stopped his hand from moving. “Leave it on.” You said. “God I love you.” Opie said and pushed you back on the bed, his lips crashing down on your once more.

“You are so beautiful,” Opie said between kisses as his lips left yours and began to trail down your neck. He sucked at the soft skin, making you whimper and you knew you'd have a bruise there in the morning but you didn't care. His lips moved lightly over your skin, sucking and licking his way along your collar bone. “I missed you so much, baby girl.” He said against your skin. His words sent goosebumps over your skin and the heat pooling within you was almost becoming too much to bear. He loved teasing you, getting you worked up til you were begging for him and he knew exactly how to get what he wanted. You bit your lip as his lips brushed over your skin and you wanted desperately to push him off of you and climb on top of him, to take control. But Opie had other ideas and he slid his hands beneath your body and unlatched your bra. The fabric left your skin and you blushed as his eyes looked at your bare chest hungrily. “So beautiful.” Opie whispered as he bent his head. His lips wrapped around your right nipple and he swirled his tongue around it, feeling it tighten into a peak. His hand massaged your left breast and you moaned as you felt his teeth graze over your nipple ever so gently. With every flick of his tongue you felt the warmth within you grow hotter and you know when he finally got to it you would be coming within minutes. Hunger ran through your veins and you arched your back, giving him more of your breast to take in his mouth. “Please, Ope.” You moaned as you clutched at his hair, hiding him tightly to your breast. Your other hand traced along the cool leather of his kutte and you lifted your hips, desperate for more friction. “Please what?” Opie growled. He left your breasts and kissed you hungrily once more before returning to your chest, this time taking your left nipple between his lips. “Fuck me, Opie.” You moaned. You could feel his smirk but he ignored your request as he sucked at your breast. He continued for only a moment more before you felt him lift his body from you. He knelt on the bed and eyed your core hungrily through the black lace. He moved his hands down your body and slipped his fingers in the waist band of your panties before wiggling them down your body. He tossed them to the floor behind him and licked his lips as he looked at your bare body beneath him. Through the fabric of his jeans you could see the shape of his bulge and he palmed his length, adjusting the fabric that had become too tight. The image of your bare body spread out beneath him, ready for him was enough to get him hard but the soft whimpers you were making were becoming almost too much for him to bare. “Fuck, babygirl.” His fingers traced along the inner of your legs and he teased them agonisingly slow from your ankles to your knees, but no higher. Seeing him kneeling between your legs, completely dressed in his leather, watching you writhe beneath him was turning you on even more and you moved your hips on the bed, desperate for something to grind against for some friction. Opie smirked and stood before grabbing your ankles gently and pulling your body to the edge of the bed. He placed your feet spread along the edge of the bed, keeping you spread wide for him and you blushed slightly as he eyed your core. You began to massage your breasts, squeezing them tightly as your hunger for touch grew deeper. “Good girl,” Opie said and he removed his kutte and his shirt, his eyes never leaving you. Opie unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the ground and you moaned when you saw his member standing tall and hard. “Look at that pretty little pussy,” Opie said as he stepped out of his pants and stroked his cock slowly. “Ive missed your tight little pussy.” You moaned and with each word he spoke you felt your walls flutter and tighten, clenching around nothing as they were desperate to be filled. Opie knelt on the floor in front of you and you lifted yourself onto your elbows. He began to kiss you slowly, from the inner knee right up your thigh, leaving a trail of wet kisses and you ached for his touch. Slowly he kissed closer to where you needed it most and you moaned in anticipation.

Opie licked song your folds and you spread your legs wider, thankful to finally have some attention where you needed it most. You moaned and your body squirmed as his wide tongue licked along your slit. His tongue moved slowly over your clit and you arched your back as you felt his fingers near your folds. He slid one finger inside you and you moaned softly, the sensation combining with that of his tongue, circling your clit. You were so worked up, so desperate for his touch that it didn't take long til you were in the brink. But Opie knew how close you were, and he wanted to tease you for a little while longer. His lips left you but he slid another finger inside you, stretching your walls for his large cock. “Such a pretty pussy baby,” Opie said. He licked around your clit once more as his fingers pumped inside you. “You taste so good, baby.” You moaned and squeezed your breasts, pinching at your nipples as he sucked at your clit. He was growling against you and the vibrations from his mouth were bringing you closer to the edge. His fingers moved faster inside you, stretching your walls and you arched your back as you felt yourself go over the edge. Your thighs clenched, holding his head between them and your back arched off the bed as his tongue continued to move over your clit. “Fuck, Opie!” You moaned and you clutched at his hair, holding him to your core. Your walls began to loosen around his fingers and his tongue slowed as you rode out your high. His fingers pulled out of you slowly and you gasped at the sudden emptiness. He lifted his head to look at you, red-faced and panting and he smirked before lowering his head and lapping at your juices. Slowly he stood and you looked into his eye, seeing the primal hunger that now dominated his dark irises. You lowered your eyes and licked your lips as you saw his large cock, already so hard for you. “Mmm baby, you always taste so good.” Opie growled and you squirmed on the bed. He grasped his large member and stroked it slowly. “You want this?” He asked you. You licked your lips as you watched him pump himself, tugging agonisingly slow along his length. You nodded. “Say you want it.” He ordered. “Say you want this cock inside that tight little pussy.” “Please Opie!” You moaned. “Please fuck me.” Opie smirked and hovered over you, pressing your body against the bed and you squirmed beneath him. He held himself in his hand and moved himself against your folds. You were already so wet for him and he coated himself in the slick juices. “So wet for me babygirl,” Opie growled. You moaned and your body writhed beneath him and you lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist.

Opie growled and kissed along your neck, the skin tender from his earlier attacks. He moved his cock in his hand and rubbed it between your folds, against your clit, moving easily along your wetness. “Please Ope.” You begged and bucked your hips, making his cock slide further down your folds and closer to your entrance. Without warning he plunged himself inside of you and you moaned as your walls stretched to take his large length. He rocked his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size and you dug your nails into his broad shoulders. Opie pushed forwards, pushing himself deeper within you and he pressed against your clit. You whimpered beneath him and rolled your hips,signalling to him that you were ready. He didn't hesitate and he slid himself out of you slowly while he pressed his lips against yours. He sucked your bottom lip between both of his and he thrusted hard inside of you, making you gasp. His lips released yours and he removed your arms from his shoulders before pinning them either side of your face. “You want me to fuck you baby girl?” Opie growled. Only the tip of his cock was resting inside of you and you moaned at his words. You bit your lip and nodded. His face was close too yours and he stared into your eyes intensely. “Yeah?” He slid his cock inside you and you moaned as his whole length entered you. “You want me to fuck you?” “Fuck me Opie!” You begged and Opie smirked. His hips pulled back and he slammed into you, making your eyes roll back in your head at the sensation. His thrusts pounded into you, hard and fast. Over and over again he entered you, every inch of him and you couldn't hold back the moans that were leaving your lips. Your arms fought against his, holding yours to the bed and he didn't release his grip, he liked being in control. “Fuck, Ope!” You screamed as he pounded inside you. Both of you knew you were close and Opie finally released your arms. You grasped his shoulders and scratched along his back, making him hiss. He reached his hands beneath your hips and lifted them slightly, allowing him to enter you deeper than before. Your back arched off the bed and you weren't sure if you could hold off for much longer. His thrusts never let up and the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room. “You gonna come for me, baby girl?” Opie growled. You couldn't answer him, the sensations were becoming to much and so you threw your head back as a loud moan left your lips. Opie lowered his head and sucked at your neck, leaving a harsh dark mark. His lips left the skin and he lifted his lips to your ear, his hips still pounding into you. “Come for me baby, come all over my cock.” You screamed his name as your walls tightened around him and you dug your nails into his shoulders. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as your body shuddered beneath him. His hips continued thrust inside you as you came and Opie growled as he felt you become wetter, coating himself in your juices. “Good girl.” Opie cooed in your ear and you squirmed beneath him as you came back into focus.

His lips crashed against yours and he kissed you fiercely, with such passion it left you slightly dizzy. When he pulled apart you smiled at him before pushing him off you slightly and in one swift movement you rolled him of you and straddled him. You always did love being on top. Opie stared up at you, his eyes devouring every inch of your bare skin and you smiled and shifted your hips slowly. You squeezed your breasts and rubbed your wet pussy against his cock, making him growl at the sight of you. Beneath you, you could feel his cock tense and you knew he was aching for his release now. His hands ran up your back and pulled you down towards him so he could kiss you once more, and you let him for only a minute before you pulled back. Your eyes met his and you but your lip as you reached down and grasped his bulging cock before sinking down on it, making both of you gasp. Slowly you rolled your hips, your eyes never leaving him as you rode him. “Your pussy feels so good, baby girl.” Opie said and you moaned. he always knew how to make you come undone with his words and tonight was no exception. You pulled your body up and plugged down on him, hard and fast and Opie began to thrust his hips to meet yours. Opie wrapped his hands around your hips and thrust into you while you slammed down on him and his eyes watched your tits bounce hungrily. “Fuck, Ope!” You cried out as his large cock pounded inside of you. Opie growled and grasped your hips tighter, taking control once more. He lifted your hips and slammed them back down, letting his full length pound inside you. You leant your body forward and buried your face in his neck as the pleasure took over your body. His thrusts were hard and fast and before you knew it you were on the edge once more. “Opie Im gonna come!” You whined into his neck and he growled and thrust into you even harder. His grip on your hips was tight and you were sure you'd have bruises there in the morning. “Come for me baby girl,” Opie growled and you moaned loudly. Your walls tightened around him and your body shook as white hot pleasure pulsed through your veins and you clutched your eyes shut. “Look at me,” Opie growled. “Ope!” You screamed. You could hear how wet you were for him, each thrust was loud against your soaking wet pussy and you knew Opie was close too. “You want me to fill you up?” He growled. You could only nod but that was enough for him. He thrust into you a few more times before you felt his hot side spill inside of you. Your walls pulsed around him and he continued to thrust, riding out your highs. Both of you were wanting heavily and you rolled off of him and collapsed on the bed, both of your bodies shining with sweat. Your skin was tingling from the overwhelming pleasure and your thighs were still trembling as you tried to catch your breath. After a moment of silence you felt Opie shift his arm and you slid your body next to his and rested your head on his chest. His fingers traced up and down your back softly. “Maybe I should go away more often, huh?”

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