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#about ecstasy so i think my brain jumbled the two of them
pizza-portal · 3 years
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heyyy! Another request if it’s not a problem! You being either Zak’s daughter or Dan’s sis and being the biggest tease ever for lando, like constantly looking at him, touching him, brushing your hands against his body, bumping into him ‘accidentally’ until he finally gives in and let’s you seduce him👀
Idk i just need more lando content, and ive noticed not many people write smut which is awful😩
Tease
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: teasing, SUB!Lando, 🤠riding, unprotected sex (avoid the dread, cover your head)
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Y/n Brown was off limits. She was nice to look at and even think about. But, if anyone touched her, they would feel guilty for laying their hands on Zak’s only daughter.
Lando couldn’t help himself though. The moment he met her, his hands got clammy and he stuttered over his words way too much. She took notice of it too. He was cute, no doubt. Shy and awkward around her. There was no possible way that y/n could think about Lando the way he thinks about her, right?
Until, it started getting hot at races. She would wear shorter skirts or denim shorts. Not to mention, the tank tops and crop tops that showed off her breasts and curves. Lando’s eyes were nowhere but her. He was in a trance every time he saw her, trying to not to let the blood flow to his central.
It didn’t help with the way she talked to him. She was sweet yet so seducing. She would lay her hand on his chest for a brief moment, and he swore his heart stopped. She would bite her bottom lip whenever he talked. She would mess with her hair or the clothes she was wearing. He was a complete mess around her. But, he couldn’t give in. Not with her being Zak’s daughter.
So, at the British Grand Prix, heat sizzled off of the floor and the sun squeezed sweat out of everyone. Everyone complained about the heat on the Silverstone track, but Lando didn’t care. All he cared was seeing her in a mini skirt and some graphic t-shirt. He had been feeling uncomfortable in the seat of his car due to the blood flowing nowhere but his middle. He was almost finished with practice and maybe he could go back to his motorbike and relieve himself with the thought of her in the mini skirt.
After getting out and grabbing his things, y/n stood beside him. “Hey Lando,” she smiled. Lando’s eyes grew wide while he quickly used his random t-shirt to cover his pants. He swallowed a lump in his throat, looking down at her.
“Hi- Hey. How are you doing? You doing alright?” His words became a big jumble that struggled to flow out smoothly. Y/n just hid her smile.
“I’m alright. Just a bit hot,” She responded. Her teeth ran over her bottom lip before she asked her next question. “Do you mind if I go back to your trailer with you? I kinda need to cool down.” Lando’s first response was yes. He wanted to be so close to her and to be wrapped around her finger like a ribbon. But, the logical and professional side of him said no. He shouldn’t be so close with his boss’ daughter.
“Please?” Y/n added.
“Yeah,” Lando blurred before he could think about anything else. She smiled.
“Do you need help with your things? I can carry your shirt-”
“No!” Lando was quick to cut her off. “I can carry it. I’m really good at carrying it. I, uh, I’ll carry my t-shirt… and stuff.” Y/n just smiled, enjoying the sexual nervousness she implanted into him.
Lando led her to his motorhome, trying his best to act as if it was as normal as possible. He let her in first, as a gentleman should, before following her. The air conditioner soothed their melting skin. Y/n sat in the couch, taking in the cooled air. Lando had shoved himself in the bathroom, changing out of his fireproofed and finding a good way to hide the excitement in his pants.
After adjusting his jeans, he started moving around his clothes for a shirt. He shoved his fireproofs around before looking around on the floor. He had tried to recall if he had brought a shirt with him… and there was absolutely no recollection. He cussed under his breath, preparing himself to walk out without a shirt. He made sure to still look relaxed while flexing his core and biceps. He opened the door, immediately walking towards his bag with his clothes.
Y/n’s eyes glazed over Lando’s upper body. He seemed so tense and she found it so sexy. She stood up, already knowing how to tease him. “Hey, you look like you need a massage,” she said sweetly. Lando held his breath. His hands shook while looking for a good shirt. He had probably passed three shirt by now, but his brain could focus on clothes. She touched his back lightly.
“You seem… hard,” she mentioned. Lando’s eyes widened while he quickly turned around. Had she noticed?
“No, no. I’m not hard. I, uh-” he tried to find some sort of excuse.
“Do you need a massage?” She smirked. Lando swallowed. Her hands lightly touched his abdomen before climbing up to his pecs and then his shoulders. “Yes or no, Lando?”
Lando had completely broke to the girl in front of him. His mind decided to forget her last name and her relation to his boss. All he could focus on was her. Lando dipped his head down, his lips immediately finding hers for a small kiss. It was quick, making sure not to scare her off. Y/n pulled his shoulders toward her while jumping to her tippy toes. Their lips attached to one another. Lando’s hands found her waist, gripping tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
Y/n moved her lips from his to kiss down his jaw and to his neck. “Fuck,” Lando whimpered while her tongue ran over his Adam’s apple. “No marks.” He reminded her. Y/n just sighed, kissing back up his neck and jaw to his lips. Her hands slid down to his pecs before pushing him to land on the couch. Each leg found their side around Lando’s hips.
As if becoming shy again, Lando sat with his arms awkwardly at his side. She grabbed his hands, placing them on her thighs. She leaning in, kissing him roughly again. “Should we be doing this?” He mumbled against her lips, as if remembering who she was.
“Do you want to do this?” She whispered. He nodded desperately while his hands voluntarily found her bum, gripping tightly onto her panties. She smiled to herself before standing up. Her hands reached beneath her skirt, slowly tugging down the last bit of cloth. Lando quickly followed, unzipping his dangerously tight pants and shoving them down his thighs. He removed his underwear next, setting his erection free. Y/n but her lip, kicking aside her own underwear and climbing back on top of him.
One hand got tangled into his hair while the other took his cock. She gently stroked his length, spreading the bit of precum on his tip. Lando hissed at the pleasure. “Please,” he whispered. She aligned him with herself before settling into it. Lando gripped her hips tightly, bring back the moan. Y/n moved herself back up, rolling her hips just enough.
It was game over for Lando. His head was thrown back while a moan escaped his lips. Y/n took the opportunity to bite his neck lightly. She continued her movements, getting faster and harder as time went. Lando’s fingertips dug into her waist, sure to leave bruises. “Fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, feeling the build up. Y/n bit back a moan while her nails dug into Lando’s shoulders. She leaned in, placing a small kiss to his lips. She tightened her walls around him and Lando couldn’t help but release. He groaned, holding her closer. Y/n slowed her pace, letting herself spill onto him. They stayed like that for a minute or two, catching their breaths and letting the ecstasy wash over them.
“I was waiting for you to give in,” she chuckled. Lando smiled, shaking his head.
“Don’t let your dad find out. He’ll kill me,”
a/n: aghhhh I loved this sm. Also may or may not have a Danny Ric fic in my drafts😮‍💨
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du0tine · 3 years
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𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 | 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄!
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,367 | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: below the line!
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mentions of murder and blood. smoking. slightly suggestive near the end but otherwise fairly suitable for anyone above 16+.
nonetheless viewer descretion is advised!
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Red. All he sees is red. 
His mind has fallen into a dark abyss, drifting into a state of chaos. He’s seeing red, bright red. As the neurological sirens within his brain erupt into a frenzy. Blaring loudly, blinding his thoughts as he falls mute in front of you. His visage holds a look of rather dark and monotonous beauty. He’s simply captivating, almost looking pissed off. Encasing a certain feeling of danger upon his face and yet there was something approachable about him. Something that drew you towards the man. 
His features resting lightly as he stares you down making you feel rather small and inferior. His dark brown eyes look dead straight at you almost as if he’s peering into your soul, his eyelashes not batting one bit. His dusted pink lips are dry and slightly agape except for the light lubricant of saliva that seeps from his tongue onto his bottom lip. If you look close enough you could perhaps catch a glimpse of how he’s standing there perfectly still. His chest is not heaving, he’s holding his breath. He’s frozen in place almost as if he’s forgotten to breath and quite literally he has, you’ve taken his breath away.
Waving your hand in front of his face you snap him out of his daze as his eyes widen lightly and his face breaks into the brightest grin you’d ever seen. The sudden duality of the man has left you stunned and a bit embarrassed. Your cheeks heat up, a light shade of pink coating them softly as you bite your lip anxiously. You just can’t help but think, “Damn, he’s really cute.” 
Now it’s your turn to be frozen in place as the first string of words you hear from him spill past his lips. His voice is beautiful, his tone delicate as the words he expresses to you echo through your mind. You can’t help but feel like it’s almost as if you’re being serenaded. 
At that moment you push everything aside that lingers within your mind. Nothing could matter less but this moment as you muster the courage to blurt out a few jumbled out words.
“Will you—do you want to, get coffee or something sometime?” You ask automatically cringing at just how awkward you sounded. Here stood the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes upon and yet the first time you talk to him makes you seem like a complete and utter fool. 
He’s silent for a moment before erupting into yet other chest tugging smile, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons, his lips etching upwards as he flashes his bright, pearly teeth at you. You don’t know whether or not he’s actually laughing or perhaps mocking you but you feel nervous awaiting a response from him. Tugging at the edge of your sequinned mini dress you avoid his gaze and stare at the floor, eyeing a piece of old gum in particular. 
“You’re too cute,” He replies as your head snaps back in his direction meeting his eyes once more. They’re warm, holding a sense of comfort within them. As if he’s silently telling you that it’s okay to fess up, that it’s okay to seem like a dork in front of the guy you’ve just met. 
“—I asked you the same thing you know that right?” He continues as your lips part in confusion. When the realization hits you, you can’t help but scrunch your eyebrows in embarrassment as you silently yell at yourself for not paying attention. 
“Well it’s not my fault your so fucking cute, had me blank out for a minute,” You refute rolling your eyes lightly as you switch your gaze back onto the ground only to realize yet again, you’d fucked up. Quickly snapping your head upwards you look at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car. “Shit sorry—that was so rude, I didn’t mean that.” 
“Hey, it’s nothing. You had me feeling the same way when you initially approached me,” He explains as he runs his fingers through his black locks, messing up the tufts of his gelled hair. Your gaze follows his hands and you soon notice he’s gotten painted fingernails, coated in chipped black and dark green nail polish. Unbeknownst to you, this every hands you’re eyeing have committed the darkest of deeds. Sucking the life out of everything and anything. 
“Give me your number, I’ll call you up sometime,” He asks as he holds his phone out to you. 
You don’t hesitate. Accepting his phone graciously you enter in your name along with your phone number. Giving it back to him he read your name aloud, your name rolling off his tongue with such fluidity just like the rest of his contacts as he scrolls past them before shutting his phone off. The contacts of other girls, dead girls that is. 
“I never got your name,” You ask as you watch him pull out a cigarette from his box of Marlboro reds. Lighting it up and taking a drag, the smell of smoke surrounding the two of you as he brings his hand forward once more. 
“Yuta,” He says as you reach forward to shake his hand gripping it tightly. His hands are soft as his fingers gently brush against your skin. His touch is electrifying for even when he pulls away it feels as if his touch is still there. It makes you feel flustered, it makes you feel hot. It makes your mind drift away as you stand there and wonder how it’d feel to have him touch you elsewhere. Shaking your thoughts away you look back at him only to see he’s already staring at you. You watch as he throws his cigarette onto the floor, crushing it with the heel of his black Celine boots. 
“Would it be too early if I asked you to join me for a drink tonight?” He asks as he slowly inches towards you. Soon enough he’s standing closely next to you, his arm wrapped around you as you inhale his scent. The mix of cigarettes and cologne is enough to make your knees weak as you stand there with him alone on the street, nothing but the full moon shining down on the both of you as you look up towards him your eyes twinkling underneath the moonlight. 
“Why not?” You reply. 
Once more he smiles, this time it’s smug almost as if it’s a smile with a hidden meaning. A his arm wraps tightly around your waist, his grip firm as he starts walking down the street with you by his side. Walking next to him felt as if the night got darker, almost as if he was the physical embodiment of the cold nights air. There was something eerie about him but it continued to draw you in. Of course, he knew this. He knew the effect he had on women and he knew you’d fall victim to him. 
He’d be sure to make you feel alright. He’ll make sure your last night alive is the last thing you’ll ever remember. Wether it be the of his softness touch, his soft lips against your skin nipping lightly or the words of praises he’d murmur into your ear. Causing you to chant his name like a mantra making you feel like nothing in the world matters but him. He’ll make you feel on edge, as if you’re on top of the world. 
Yuta would make you feel the most important women in the world. Giving you the title in a bittersweet manner before snatching it away from you with the feeling of a cold blade pressed firmly against your blistering hot skin as you fall into a state of ecstasy, the euphoric rush coursing through your veins before you feel a sudden burst of pain.
The blade doing its duty of cutting deeply into you. Marking you with many, many lacerations. Covering his naked body in your beautiful crimson red blood, splattering him in this dark art of you. 
With your life you make him feel reborn, you make him see red. You make him feel normal. 
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𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑫 ©︎𝑫𝑼0𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑬
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bourbon-ontherocks · 3 years
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🎨
Oh sweet Heatherwax, I want to say all of them (and now I realize that I shot myself in the foot by asking people to dare me to pick faves while it’s something that I’m notoriously incapable of), but let’s see...
*not me scrolling through your AO3 page and immediately adding everything to my to re-read list*
So it has to be a tie between
do you like drugs (tonight)
Beth and Rio pop ecstasy and get super horny and nonsensical. It features some of the HOTTEST sexy times I’ve ever read, I still feel the urge to lie down every time I think about this sloppy dancing kiss... And drugged!Beth happily and obliviously humping Rio in the middle of the club is absolutely incredible (as her whole POV), and then the MORNING AFTER, oh my God!! I love this sort of grumpy friendship they have with each other! And all their past car seat and bar throne shenanigans!! Perfect! Also there’s more than one occasion to scream “poor Mick!!” which is obviously delicious. It’s gorgeously written and I still stand by what I told you the first time I read it:
Your words are like a soft and warm blanket that insulated me from the outside world, a stress-relieving parenthesis out of time, the rhythm of which was a lullaby for my brain...
Here are a few of my favourite sentences:
God, she hates being in his car. At least the first couple of times his idiotic highness demanded her presence in this ludicrous status symbol, Beth’d been deeply distracted
every time Rio speaks she craves pure ethanol
She’s somehow forever questing to impress him. Yet often ends up hating it when she does.
Of course the man who constantly dares people to shoot him taunts kitchen appliances to damage in similar fashion
and (a) time to kill
I’m a sucker for safe house situations with these two disasters, and this one is just so so good!!!!! There’s so much vulnerability seeping through their grumpy interactions, the comedic vibes are off-the-charts (the image of lunatic!Rio dismounting the bathroom door handle just BECAUSE will haunt me for eternity), and THEY SNUGGLE IN THEIR SLEEP!!!!!!  I absolutely love their disatrous bed-sharing adventures, and there’s so much reluctant softness too, and a heart-breaking obsession for 2.13!! Excellent traumatized!Mick content as well (HOWDY!!!!!!), and I still have DREAMS about this particular moment:
Beth finds she’s snuggled into his arms. It’s not – peculiar, weirdly. Maybe it’s just how much of his company she’s endured the past few days; this is by far the longest amount of time they’ve ever spent together. And all she’s been, for really quite some while, is a series of jumbles.
Muscle memory sparks. Like maybe this happened before, over the past few nights…? But surely not.
Rio goes to untangle, pulled to quasi-wakefulness by the force of her freaking. Beth makes an automatic noise of protest. His eyes crack. There’s a flicker of recognition.
“Back to sleep, sunshine,” he mumbles. Then adds something that sounds very much like it’s about pointy elbows. She hopes that’s him apologising for his, geez.
His hold tightens.
Beth coasts back under.
There’s just so much hidden care and tenderness covered with anger and grief in this fic, and that’s my jam in a nutshell.
Other favourite lines include:
And really – who wears pastels for a spot of afternoon crime?
“I told him I have herpes,” she says, a little nervy. He blinks. If that’s her idea of flirting – you know what. Makes perfect fucking sense, actually.
She doesn’t even have the decency to act like waking someone up screaming is weird. And, worse, she full on shakes him awake at one point to tell him she killed him. Which makes minus quantities of sense.
She must be broken. But he has to be too.
“Burn it. Just. Burn it,”
❤️❤️❤️
  Send me 🎨 & I’ll tell you my favorite of your last ten creations
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lostinthewiind · 5 years
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Disrespect is a Dangerous Game
Henry Jones - Band of Brothers
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO EVERYONE’S FAVOURITE IRL COMBAT (TOMBAT) MEDIC @mawpheen-and-sizzuhs! HAVE A GREAT BIRTHDAY TOM! I HOPE THEY DON’T WORK YOU TOO HARD IN BASIC!
Warnings: ***SEXY TIME***
Tag List: @warmommy @gottapenny @croatianbagudna @wexhappyxfew @scissorsfordoc @curraheev @mayhem24-7forever @one-who-hunts-eagles @bandofmarvels @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @wildwilliamguarnere @majwinters @theonetryingtolive @higgles123 @those-dusty-jump-wings @medievalfangirl @maiden-of-gondor
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You hated Lieutenant Henry Jones from the minute you met him. He was young, inexperienced, and naive and somehow you were supposed to follow him into combat? The thought of putting your life in his hands made you sick to the stomach, but then the patrol happened. 
Germans were captured, lives were lost, resolves were tested, and when the fog of the chaos had lifted, the true leaders of the group stood out from the rest; Lieutenant Jones being one of them. 
It surprised you to no end to watch him step up and take control of the situation, but when he had, you were able to see that maybe he wasn’t just some stupid kid that was in over his head. Maybe he did fit the rank he had been given.
When all was said and done and the medics had taken Jackson’s body away, you and the others were left standing in the thick tension of the tragedy. Jones was the first to leave, you following closely behind. 
“Lieutenant Jones!” you called once the two of you were upstairs. 
Jones heard your voice and stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around right away. He knew it was you and he wasn’t sure if he was in the right state to deal with any more of your condescending bullshit. 
“Sir, I just wanted to apologize for my behaviour towards you earlier.” you weren’t too proud not to admit when you were wrong. 
Exhaling hard, Jones spun around and looked at you, his young face still throwing you for a bit of a loop. “What?” he spat; his body still coursing with the anger of losing a man on his watch. 
“I’m saying I’m sorry” you continued. “I was wrong about you. You handled tonight very well; better than I could have.”
You could see his jaw clench as he glared back at you, his eyebrows furrowing and his eyes narrowing. “What makes you think you have the right to disrespect an officer?” he almost growled, bringing out a darker side of him you had never seen before. “What made you think it was okay to question my authority, Sergeant?”
You scoffed. You couldn’t believe how cocky he was being, and suddenly, you regretted ever deciding to extend an olive branch in the first place. “Look, I know it was wrong, that’s why I’m trying to do the decent thing and apologize here!” you shot back. “I wasn’t the only one who thought you were taking on more than you could handle with the patrol. I am, however, the only one taking responsibility for my actions.”
“You might not have been the only one who disrespected me.” the man stalked toward you before pushing you up against the wall and capturing your wrists in his hands. “But you are the only one I am going to punish for it.”
Your breathing hitched and you felt a lump catch in your throat, and for a few seconds, as Jones eyed you up and down and licked his bottom lip, you forgot how to pull air into your lungs altogether. 
“How are you going to do that, sir?” you finally found your words even though they were soft and slightly squeaky. You weren’t sure if this new side of Jones was terrifying or extremely sexy but after a few moments of contemplation, you decided that it was both and that it really turned you on.
“Not sure yet.” he reached for the handle of the door right beside you and pushed the door open. “But I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”
Bending his knees slightly, the young Lieutenant hooked his hands under your ass and picked you up in a quick, jolting motion. With an involuntary shriek, you wrapped your hands around his neck for stability as he carried you into the unoccupied room before slamming it shut with a kick of his foot. 
With the door shut, the room was almost completely dark save for the small amount of light leaking in through the dirty window. The room had a small, wooden desk and a dingy little cot in the corner, but besides that, it was empty. 
The entire time you were in Jones’ arms your face was inches away from his, but never once did he kiss you and never once did you dare to try and kiss him. It was evident from the beginning of the interaction that Jones was in charge, and quite frankly, you were more than willing to let him be. 
Besides, judging from the dark look in his eyes, you could tell that if you started to rebel, things wouldn’t end well for you. 
Slowly, Jones lowered you back down to the ground. As soon as your boots touched the hardwood flooring he let go of you altogether. “Knees.” was all he said.
You didn’t have to ask what he meant. You knew what he meant. Doing as you were told, you dropped down to your knees and began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Jones watched you the entire time, the power of seeing you do as he demanded starting to go to his head a little. 
Once his pants were open, you looked up at him, silently seeking confirmation. He only nodded.
Knowing that he wanted you to continue, you placed your hands on his hips and brought your lips to the skin just above the waistband of his boxers. As soon as your mouth touched him, he inhaled sharply and his hands went to your hair. 
You could instantly tell that behind his confident facade he was probably a slightly inexperienced man when it came to sexual encounters, but you weren’t going to let on for even a minute that you knew. It was more fun this way.
You flicked your tongue over the soft flesh a few times as you slowly pulled his boxers down. As soon as his cock popped out you wasted no time in grabbing his shaft with your hand and moving your tongue over the tip. Another sharp inhale on his part as he tangled more of your hair into his fingers. 
Deciding that teasing would likely only get you into more trouble, you moved onto wrapping your mouth around him not long after. Bobbing your head, you sucked him with varying degrees of intensity, all the while swirling your tongue around and around. He was putty in your hands in mere moments but you still let him believe he was in charge. 
When his head started to fall back and his eyes started to roll up into his head you stopped. As soon as your lips left him his head snapped down toward you. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he panted.
“I don’t feel punished enough,” you admitted. “Wouldn’t want this to be over before we’ve even really gotten started, would we?”
Jones stared down at you for a while before swallowing hard and releasing his hands from your head. “You’re right.” he agreed before yanking you to your feet again. “Take your clothes off.”
“Yes, sir.” you obliged without any hesitation. Jones watched you with wide, entranced eyes as you shed layer after layer. Once you were completely naked in front of him, you made your way over to the desk, sat on top of it, and spread your legs for him. “I’m ready for my punishment, Lieutenant Jones.”
Jones was frozen in place for a couple of seconds, his hand stroking himself while he took in every curve of your body. Then, in a few long strides, he was standing between your legs. “Not like this.” he pulled you off of the desk, spun you around, and bent you over it. 
“Whatever you want, sir.” anticipation rushed through your body as you pressed your cheek into the desk and awaited the pleasure that was soon to come. “Don’t be gentle.”
“I don’t plan to.” his voice filled your ears, followed by the feeling of his tip teasing your already slick folds. “Just don’t make any noise.”
“I won’t.”
Then, without warning, he pushed all the way inside of you. You gasped but still managed to keep it on the quieter side. “Holy shit.” you cursed under your breath. “You feel so much bigger inside of my pussy than you did inside of my mouth, sir.”
“Stop talking,” he ordered. “Just shut the fuck up and take my cock like the obedient little Sergeant that you are.”
You didn’t even risk a reply to that, so you just bit down on your tongue and held in every little moan that fought desperately to escape. Over and over again you were slammed hard into the desk — so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if you had splinters afterward. 
Your fingernails dug into the wood as Jones fucked you relentlessly, whispered profanities and airy grunts slipping from his lips every few seconds. “Are you sorry for disrespecting me?” he asked.
You weren’t sure if the question was a trick or not, so to play it safe, you remained silent. When you didn’t answer, he slapped you hard on the ass with his palm. “I asked if you are sorry for disrespecting me!” he leaned over and growled in your ear. “Are you fucking sorry?”
“Y-yes.” your voice was shaky. 
With a low huff, Jones thrust into you with everything he had. “When you speak to an officer, you say sir.”
“Yes, sir.” you corrected yourself. “Yes, sir, I am very sorry for disrespecting you.”
“Good.” he pulled back and out of you, replacing his cock with his mouth. “Say it again,” he spoke into your core.
“I’m sorry for disrespecting you, sir.”
“Again.”
Over and over again you repeated that same sentence while Jones ate you out, his tongue working magic on your clit. Every time you said it, your words got more jumbled and mixed together due to the fogginess that was building up in your brain.
Then, all at once, all of your stimulation was gone. Looking back over your shoulder, you watched as Jones stood behind you, pumping himself and just taking you in with his eyes. 
Before you could speak though, he pushed himself back inside of you, this time running his thumb over your clit as he pounded into you. It didn’t take long for you to begin your ascent into pure ecstasy. 
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Jones could tell you were close as well. “Sergeants don’t get to cum before Lieutenants. 
“Yes, sir.” you whimpered.
With a few more hard thrusts, Jones collapsed onto you, his breathing heavy as he came hard. You were on the edge, so close to your own high. You were practically shaking.
“May I cum now, sir?” you begged.
“No,” Jones whispered in your ear before pulling out of you, zipping himself up, and walking towards the door. “Consider yourself punished, Sergeant Y/L/N.”
With that, he exited the room, leaving you all alone and on the brink of your orgasm. “Fucker.” you cried out softly to yourself. 
Next time you would seriously think twice before doubting Lieutenant Jones’ authority because there was no doubt he held a certain power over you. 
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everlarkficexchange · 5 years
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A Bite of Inconvenience
Written by: @katnissdoesnotfollowback
Prompt 131: Submitted by @amazinglovers747. Visual Prompt. Text: 4 ½ stars out of 5. Delivery time stated between 45 to 60 minutes but it was delivered within 25 minutes. This was a bit of an inconvenience as I was balls deep in the wife at the time.
A/N: This is an outtake of sorts from my story Case of the Honeymoons. I’d been contemplating writing it anyways after the original post this prompt is based on wandered across my dashboard. When I saw this pop up as an @everlarkficexchange prompt…well I had to snatch it up and fulfill it. The muse ordered it, hot and piping fresh. You can find the rest of the story HERE if you’ve not read it. Except for the 7th and final chapter which still isn’t written. Working on it tho. I tried to write this outtake in a way that you can still enjoy if you’ve not read the other chapters, although some of the inside jokes and running gags may not register.
Thank you to @javistg and @xerxia31 for all their hard work in organizing this event and taking care of all our whiny writerly questions. You ladies are rockstars. Also to @savvylark for pre-reading this one for me and making sure it wasn’t just a jumble of smut. ;)
RATED E for PWP… as in Plot? What Plot? There’s no plot here. Or maybe it stands for Pizza with Porn? Whatever, pick your poison on the acronym and enjoy!
WARNINGS: Contains explicit sexual content, explicit language.
Length: Around 7000 words
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For a second or two, I’m convinced that I’m dreaming. Caught between the worlds of sleeping and reality. I can feel the warmth of Katniss’ body curled around my side. Her breaths on my neck. The scent of her filling my nostrils, anchoring me to her in both my subconscious and consciousness. Waking with her beside me is still one of the best feelings in the world. Someone once told me that after a year or two, the Honeymoon Phase would wear off, and then I’d start to feel the “old ball and chain.” I’ve always hated that expression. Why marry someone if it feels like a prison? And while the Honeymoon Phase has worn off for us, in a way, after almost four years of marriage, I’m still as much in love with her, if not more so, than I was the day we were married.
Our alarm hasn’t gone off just yet so we still have time to relax in bed. My brain registers all of this, but my body lingers in dreams. Dirty dreams of her mouth sliding over my dick in unrushed strokes. Lips squeezing and her tongue flicking under the crown. I can feel each slow pass and even hear the sounds of sloppy, wet suction. Can’t stop the groan from rumbling in my throat or my hips lifting up into her. I’m rock hard and wish I could tangle my fingers in her hair to urge her to go faster, but she’s pressing soft kisses just below my jaw and whispering my name, calling me out of sleep and away from dreams.
“Peeta, wake up.”
I don’t want to. I want to come down her throat, even if it is only in my dreams. She shifts beside me and her mouth tugs on my cock. Her lips press to mine, her tongue slipping past my lips when I whimper, fighting to stay in this dream but also wanting to wake for her. It’s too much, the dual sensations of dreaming and reality. Her tongue rubs against mine and her mouth on my cock picks up speed.
“Wake up, Peeta. I’m so fucking horny right now.”
My eyes fly open then and stare into hers next to me, so close to my face, her pupils wide and dark, eyelids drooping. I can still hear the sounds of her sucking me off and feel the pressure of it. My mind sluggishly catches up to the realization that it’s her hand on me, not her mouth, as I feel her grinding gently against my hip, one leg slung over mine. My cock throbs in her grip and I hiss at the pleasure, real and inescapable.
I take two seconds to absorb our surroundings. Our bedroom. I think. It’s our furniture but the light is weird and the door is in the wrong spot.
Because it’s our house, not our apartment. We just moved in yesterday, the towers of boxes providing further evidence. I spot a bottle of KY sitting on the nightstand and then Katniss bites my earlobe.
“Wake up and fuck me,” she whispers. “Before we have to be up for the fridge.”
Best of both worlds, I realize and rise up enough to pin her beneath me, use my legs to spread hers and slide my hand up her leg slowly as she stops stroking me to push my underwear down to my thighs, just enough, wiping the lube off her hand onto my shorts. She’s already naked, and that alone would show me just how turned on she is since she rarely sleeps in the buff, if there wasn’t further proof between her thighs as well. When my fingers reach her center, I groan again.
“You woke up like this?” I whisper and lift my fingers, rubbing her arousal between them for a second.
“Yes. I’ve waited as long as I can. Enough chit chat, Peeta.” She’s right. I glance at the clock and see we’ve got about an hour before our brand new refrigerator is supposed to be delivered. I push inside her, eyes rolling back in my head as I’m engulfed in her warmth. She’s already insanely wet plus the KY she was using on me, and I can hear it as soon as I pull back just a little and she digs her nails into my ass to bring me deeper.
“God yes,” she whimpers as our hips meet. “I need this.”
I briefly wonder if she’s ovulating today. There’s something deeper in her scent and the way she’s being so aggressive, but I don’t have time to do the math before her pussy walls clench on me and she grins up at the choked noise I make. She’s just recently discovered that this drives me wild. Trying to get pregnant has only teased out and enhanced her adventurous in bed side. Like the fact that kegels actually feel really fucking good.
“Be careful with those.”
“Why?” she asks with fake innocence and bites her lip before doing it again. I grind my hips down into her and she gasps. She does it again anyways and I grab her hands, pinning them over her head, both her wrists contained in one of my hands as I start thrusting. Slow and sure, but she wriggles beneath me and whispers dirty words about wanting me to pound into her and fill her up. How glad she is that we no longer have to worry about thin walls and neighbors hearing me make her scream with pleasure.
And despite the fact that I have her arms pinned, she’s not immobilized. She uses her legs to leverage her body against me and her eyes drift shut, mouth hanging open as she moans.
“Louder, Katniss. I can’t hear you,” I tease and slide my hand up her wrist to lace her fingers with mine.
“Peeta,” she whines and her now free hand claws down the back of my shoulder, tipping me off the edge of control. I listen to her quiet gasps, the sharp slapping as our bodies collide. Fuck, I should make her come first, but reason and thoughtfulness dance away on the waves of ecstasy coursing through me.
“Gonna come,” I manage to warn her and that only makes her more insistent. She opens her eyes and orders me to fill her up, to give her my cum. Her thrusts turn more forceful and combined with her dirty words and the intense look in her eyes, I don’t stand a chance of holding out. My body seizes and all I can manage is to grind my hips against hers and hope she can find some pleasure in that as I empty myself into her. Because I’m lost.
When I finish and collapse on top of her, her fingers trail up and down my spine. She squeezes our still twined hands as I pant into her ear and whisper an apology before shifting so I can get my free hand between us.
“Your turn,” I promise and nibble on her ear.
“Stay inside me, Peeta. It’s always better with your cock inside me,” she murmurs. Her legs slide off me, giving me more room to work her clit and she falls apart in a surprisingly short amount of time, her walls clamping down on my still hard cock and making me groan at the overwhelming sensations. But I force myself to stay put where she wants me. When she’s done, we lay there in one another’s arms.
“Good morning,” I say and she laughs a little before turning her head to face me.
“Good morning. Ready to set up our house?” I can’t help the smile spreading across my face as I nod eagerly. We’ve got the whole day to unpack. Yesterday, after the movers left, all we had the energy for was getting the bed set up so we’d have a place to sleep. Sometime today we’ll need to do another round of grocery shopping for cold items. Tomorrow we both have to return to our jobs, so we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today.
“Where do we start?” I ask after we’ve showered and dressed and eaten several muffins from yesterday’s batches at the bakery. She wrinkles her nose at her glass of water, mumbling that she can’t wait for us to have milk so she can drink her tea again.
We wind up dividing to conquer. I meet the delivery guy and Katniss hits up the grocery store. I fill a cooler with the bag of ice she brought home to keep what she bought cold until the fridge has reached the right storage temperature. “Now what?”
Now Katniss scrunches her nose at the boxes scattered around the kitchen as she folds up the last of our grocery bags she used, setting it on the stack to return to her car later.
“I’m thinking we start in here.”
“At least then we’ll be able to fix meals soon,” I agree and start up some music to listen to. We work mostly in silence, and I think we’re moving at a good pace except for one problem.
Katniss keeps distracting me. She’s pinched my ass at least three times, ran her hand over my crotch while I was stretching to get a few things on the top cabinet shelf, planted kisses on the back of my neck, flirtatiously evaded me every time I’ve tried to pull her into a more involved embrace, and whispered several dirty things in my ear.
“We’re not done yet, by the way. I’m still horny.”
“Can’t wait to break in every room of our house.”
“The sooner you get that counter cleared off, the sooner you can fuck me on it.”
I spend the day half aroused and jumpy. Almost like it’s our wedding day all over again. Each caress or teasing phrase she gives me leaves me half cocked and half out of my mind with desire. I’d really like to leave the packing for another day and just get right down to breaking in each room.
But then Primrose shows up, wielding lunch and a wreath she made for our front door, offering to help us for an hour or so. Normally I’d enjoy her company and be perfectly capable of behaving myself in front of Katniss’ sister, but Katniss keeps resting her hand on my thigh under the table while we eat. Her fingers massaging and clenching and drawing blood down my body until I’m almost fully erect, my mind inevitably wandering back to this morning and all her teasing throughout the day. I shift uncomfortably in my chair, earning a questioning gaze from her.
I scowl and glance down at my lap, but Katniss just smiles innocently at me. And then grazes her hand over me when she stands to clear her plate.
“First dirty dishes in the new dishwasher!” she declares.
“How can I help?” Prim asks when they’re done loading. I haven’t moved yet, still hiding beneath the table.
“How about you help me with the living room? And Peeta can finish in here,” Katniss says and gives me a pointed look.
“Sure,” I agree, and as soon as they’re gone, I hide in the bathroom long enough to get things under control. When I’m good to resume unpacking the kitchen, they’re clearly occupied filling bookshelves and considering which pictures should go where. With the open floor plan, I can hear every word of their conversation and smile to myself, happily staying out of the way so Katniss can have this time with her sister.
“Oh! I have a housewarming gift from Effie, too! I helped her with it.” Prim says at one point and rushes out to her car. Katniss looks wary as her sister returns with a framed picture and shows it to Katniss with a bright smile on her face. “Ta-Da!”
I cough and Katniss’ cheeks heat up at the sight of the wedding picture we just can’t seem to escape.
“She said your new home needed a gorgeously framed portrait of the two of you.”
“We have a wedding portrait already,” Katniss says, referring to the one in the living room right now. I can see it leaning against the couch, waiting for us to decide where to hang it. Your standard portrait of bride and groom right after the ceremony.
“Sure. But this one is so gorgeous, and much more personal. I helped her coordinate the matting around it to your new bedroom linens.”
“So it’s for the bedroom,” I say and slide it from her hands, smirking at Katniss a little, enjoying her discomfort after what she’s put me through all day. “I think that’s perfect.”
After all, Effie snapped this candid shot of Katniss and I in the gardens, not knowing that we’d had sex literally a minute beforehand. In fact, as Katniss once so eloquently pointed out, my dick is still inside her in this picture. You just can’t tell with the voluptuous skirt of her wedding dress covering us.
“You don’t like it?” Prim asks, and Katniss rushes to reassure her.
“Oh no. I do!”
“I’ll go put it in the bedroom and we’ll hang it up later,” I tell Prim and she smiles at me. After that, the girls finish up the living room while I get the kitchen squared away and then hook up the washer and dryer. It’s close to dinner time when Prim finally leaves, assuring Katniss that she’s got a dinner date with a friend, otherwise she’d stay to eat with us. Katniss walks Prim out to her car and when she returns, flops on the couch with a groan.
“I am not up to cooking tonight.”
“And after all my hard work setting up the kitchen despite numerous distractions,” I tease.
Katniss opens one eye to scowl at me. “We could just order a pizza.”
“Pizza sounds good,” I agree and she heaves herself off the couch to join me in the kitchen. Opening the Domino’s app on my phone, I start building our order.
“Mushrooms. I want something with mushrooms,” Katniss says as she stands in front of me, pulling my phone down so she can read the order upside down.
“Bossy.”
“I just know what I want,” she murmurs and slides her hands up my sides then back down again, making me pause to glance at her before submitting the order. I hope they’re fast tonight so we can eat and then I can make love to her on the counter I cleared off today. Then maybe on the couch if she’s feeling up to it. I can feel the resurgence of arousal.
“There. I got you your mushrooms and black olives,” I tell her. Then the estimated wait time pops up on screen. “Forty-five to sixty minutes?”
“Seriously?” she says, sounding as peeved as I feel. I try to shake it off, though.
“Guess we’re not the only ones who don’t feel like cooking in this neighborhood tonight.”
“I can’t stand the thought of opening one more box. What are we gonna do for that long?” She huffs and then grins at me.
“A whole hour,” I agree with a smile matching hers and she pulls my phone from my hands, tossing it aside before winding her hands around my neck and playing with my hair. I shiver in delight as I rest my hands on her hips.
“Wanna see how many times you can make me come in an hour, Peeta?”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she whispers right before she brings our lips together.
We’ve been trying to get pregnant for awhile now, and sometimes I feel like we’re having sex as part of a routine, but other days, the spontaneity still strikes hot. Today is clearly one of those days.
We move together and Katniss shoves at my shirt until it’s off and on the floor. Our mouths join together again in desperate moans and sliding tongues. I tear at her belt then push her shorts down. As she steps out of them, I whisper to her that I can’t wait to fuck her in every room of our house.
“We’ll start in here,” I murmur as I kiss her neck and she tips her head back to give me complete access. I scrape my nails up her thighs, enjoying the way that makes her shiver. Then I slip my hands inside her panties to grab her ass and pull her close, so she can feel how hard I am already. “You’ve been teasing me all day.”
“I told you I was horny,” she complains. I push her back, one step at a time as I kiss her mouth and drink her sighs. She squeals a little when her back hits the counter.
“And yet you still blush over that picture,” I say before pushing her panties down, following them down her legs with my mouth. When I stand back up, she’s arched towards me, palms flat on the granite surface. I lift her up and her eyes fly open as I plant her ass on the counter and kiss her again, step between her legs and caress her thighs, her hips, her back. My hand brushes my phone and I smile as I break the kiss, hand it to her. “Set a timer for me. Forty minutes gives us time to make sure one of us is presentable enough to greet the pizza guy.”
I suck on her pulse point, she shudders but taps on my screen as I run my hands over her, massaging her breasts over her shirt and kissing all over her neck and ears. She’s almost rocking back and forth and cursing at herself as I slide the straps of her tank top off her shoulders. She moves her arms enough to pull them free of the straps, glaring in annoyance at my disruption of her task. Her bra goes next, tossed aside on the kitchen floor next to her panties.
“Stop distracting me,” she growls, setting my phone aside.
“Turnabout’s fair play,” I murmur and shake my head and bend her back enough so I can massage and suck on her breasts, sucking moans out of her chest. Moans that make me throb and close to just plunging in and selfishly taking.
“Oh god,” she moans and runs one hand through my hair, lifting her knees to embrace me. When I have her squirming and pleading, I move on, letting my hand wander down to her labia as I kiss her mouth, stealing both of our breaths.
“I’m gonna start right here,” I murmur. She whimpers at my touch, her legs spreading and pushing her hips forward on the counter. Almost falling off the edge. “Careful. Maybe it’s better if you just hold still for this.” Grasping her hands, I plant them on the edge of the counter and then return my fingers to trace her lips. Set one hand behind her ass to hold her in place. “So fucking wet.”
“Oh fuck, yes,” she moans, hips moving a minuscule amount as I trace over her folds, dip inside just enough to trace the inner folds. “Peeta.”
I turn my head and nibble on her ear as my fingers part her, then slide inside to the sound of her soft gasps. “Wet as rain for me. Katniss, I wanna lick this up next.”
“Yes,” she pleads and arches her body, pressing her breasts into my chest. I tickle and stroke, savoring the hot feel of her on my skin as she lifts higher, her mouth widening and her breaths shortening.
“But your first orgasm tonight belongs to my fingers,” I whisper and slip a second finger inside her. She grinds her clit into my palm. I can see her thighs clenching with the effort to hold still as I slowly fuck her with my fingers. Pull out and trace her juices over her lips, up to her clit where I brush the pads of my fingers over her again and again.
“More. I need more, Peeta,” she pleads. This time I start with two fingers in her and pick up the pace. I can feel her tensing and hear the lifting pitch of her moans. My fingers scrape soft, spongy flesh and she cries out.
“You’re ready now, aren’t you?” I whisper. “Ready to fall apart at the slightest touch.”
A third finger and I curl them up, touching deeper and faster. It’s almost harsh as her spine bows and I breathe deeply in the crook of her neck. Kiss along her shoulder then back up. I can smell her arousal too and whisper that my tongue gets her next orgasm.
She yells an indistinguishable sound and her body jerks. Just once before she holds still as her pussy releases more of her wetness into my palm then clenches my fingers in a steady pulse. I keep thrusting them, sucking on her neck and then holding her tight, feeling her pulse thundering under my lips and against my chest. My fingers get to feel the pulse of this release but my body already knows the feel of her on my cock and fuck do I want it. I’m breathing harsh as she grabs hold of my neck to steady herself.
“That’s one,” Katniss gasps when her breathing evens out a little and she lifts my phone off the counter. “And we still have thirty-five minutes.”
“That’s a good pace. Think you can handle seven more?” I ask and slide my fingers from her, smile at her juices coating them.
“That one was easy. I told you I’ve been low-key turned on all day. You’re gonna have to work for the next one,” she teases as she tugs playfully on my belt loops. But her bravado fades as I trace her lips with my fingers, painting her mouth with her own release. She’s still staring up at me, a little stunned as I suck the rest off my fingers before cradling her head in my palms and kissing her to get the rest off her mouth. When I lift my head, she looks dazed and not nearly as sassy as she did just a minute ago.
“Second one’s always the easiest to get from you. And it’s gonna be in my mouth,” I say and then drop to bury my face between her thighs supporting them with my palms so she doesn’t fall off the counter. She curses and her palms smack onto the solid surface behind her as I tongue her clit then swirl my way inside her pussy, groaning and heady with delight. My ears ring with the sounds she makes, ecstatic and frantic. Her entire body shudders as she wraps herself around me, my name a warble on her lips as her release courses over my tongue. I kiss her clit as she mumbles and then stand up, cupping her ass in my hands and pulling her back to the edge of the counter. “Two. If you want my cock next–”
I don’t get to finish. She has my clothes down my hips and on the floor in seconds, hopping down to help me step out of them and then hopping right back up, splaying her legs, her pussy parting for me. I tease her folds with my tip, determined to make this good for her, but then her soft keening as I slide home drives me to the brink.
“Fuck, such a warm welcome,” I whisper as she clings to my neck and squirms against me. “Gonna be fast if you don’t stop that,” I warn, but her eyes, a gray fog of need, challenge me.
Pulling back, I ram into her and she groans, her nails digging painfully into my neck and scalp. I have to hold still for a moment to regain control, my hand clenching on her hips as she wriggles to get me seated better and lights dance behind my eyelids.
“Again, Peeta. Please.”
Her desperate tone is the end of me. I only get a few sharp thrusts in before I know for sure that I’m gonna lose it too soon like this. Her walls grip me with each thrust, like her skin can’t stand to lose the contact with mine. Her soft pleas for me to fuck her harder make my head spin. The sounds of slapping skin and sucking wet flesh are nearly my undoing and she complains when I pull out. Clings to me when I lift her off the counter and carry her back towards our bedroom.
She kisses and nips at me as I go, demanding that I move faster and finish what I started, so many dirty phrases about needing me inside her that weaken my knees and my resolve. By the time we reach the bedroom, her lips are on mine again, her tongue demanding satisfaction. I’m forced to move based on touch to lay her out on the bed, following her as we kiss and she writhes on the cool cotton sheets. I fondle one breast, swallowing her moans as I pluck the nipple into a hard peak until she’s arched beneath me.
I could take her like this, facing each other, but that usually takes longer to get her there. I have no idea how much time we have left and my phone is back in the kitchen.
Rising up, I tug her to the end of the bed and flip her over, urge her to get up on her knees. I massage and spread her cheeks as she moves, tilting my head to watch her pussy take my cock as I slide in, smooth and easy.
She sings out a string of filthy words and grips tight to the sheets as my hips meet her ass. Her moans only get louder and filthier as I move, grabbing ahold of her hips and driving myself into her. Watching us fuck is such a high, a deeper layer heaped on top of the sensations.
But she begs and I can’t deny, bending forward so my chest is pressed to her back and I can get my fingers on her clit. My lips on her neck. I keep this up for a bit, but I’m still in trouble.
I’m getting close again, too fast as I feel my balls tighten and I curse, shoving her forward with too much force and not the results I planned. She face plants in the mattress, her ass in the air and my cock still inside her. With another curse, I pull back. She shouts in protest as I bend over and spread her enough to get my mouth on her.
I’m drowning in her pussy, my mouth and nose filled with her desire. Her sounds filling my ears and taunting my body. The air cools her juices on my cock and I shiver but keep licking and sucking, thrusting my tongue in her then laving her clit before sucking on that too while she grinds herself on my face and her hands claw at the bed.
She starts mewling then chanting the word “yes!” And then her entire frame shakes with impending release.
“No! Fuck! Peeta, I want you to come with me,” she demands as she moves to separate us. I wipe her off my face and lay on top of her. My cock brushes through curls and finding her soaked lips once more, I slide right back in. When I kiss her shoulder, she turns her head. Thinking she wants a kiss as I start pounding down into her, I join our lips. But she pushes me back and shakes her head.
“Up,” is all she says, but I think I get the idea, going back to standing at the edge of the bed with her in front of me. “Yes.”
I don’t let up then, gathering some of her hair in my hand for leverage as I feel sweat trickling down my temples. Down my spine and tickling between my cheeks. The sounds reverberate a little off the still bare walls. I feel release building at the base of my skull, driven higher and hotter with each sharp thrust I give her and each plaintive cry she gives me.
The doorbell rings and Katniss wails.
Wait.
I stop and she groans in frustration. “I was so fucking close! Why’d you stop?”
“I thought I heard the doorbell.”
She shifts to look at the bedside clock and shakes her head. “It hasn’t even been thirty minutes yet.”
“Are you sure?” I ask and she pushes back into me. “Yes. Now make us come, Peeta.”
I start moving again, slow this time. Uncertain. But her insistent movements beneath me make it impossible to stay that way and within seconds, my thrusts are hard enough to make her ass shudder with each one, and the sounds of our bodies colliding, of my balls smacking into her, ring through the room again.
“Yes! Close! Almost–” Ding dong! “Fuck!”
I slow down this time. “You heard it too, right?”
“I don’t fucking care. Don’t stop,” she groans and pushes herself back on me. I try to pick my pace up and Katniss arches her body. I can feel her tensing in anticipation.
That’s when the knocking starts and Katniss groans. I pull out of her completely this time, my cock leaping in denial, my balls screaming at me to get back in there, because I was damn near close, too.
“Okay someone is definitely at the door and isn’t going away.”
“It better be the pizza. If it’s a neighbor, we’re moving,” she practically snarls. “After we egg their porch.”
Her cheeks are flushed and her hair’s a mess. There are bite marks and suction marks all over her neck and shoulders. She looks sexy as fuck. A living wet dream. There’s no way I’m letting some random stranger see my wife like this.
“Be right back,” I tell her as I stumble back into the kitchen. Whoever it is is still pounding on the door. “Coming!” I shout as I pause long enough to get my jeans and shirt back on, laughing humorlessly at the irony that actually no, I am not coming the way I’d like to be. I grab my phone off the counter as I head to the front door and stop the timer.
25:59.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter and pocket the thing as I open the door. “Sorry. Unpacking, moving furniture,” I excuse to the guy who nods and extends the boxes with the receipt on top and a pen. The delicious smells waft up to my nose and my mouth starts to water, but my brain’s caught in a schism between this food and Katniss back on our bed.
“Just sign here, my dude.” I sign and try to give the guy a pleasant farewell as I take the boxes from him. But I’m still rock fucking hard and my jeans are chafing things that are used to a layer of cotton underwear protecting them. Not to mention I’m still covered in Katniss and both of us had a perfectly spectacular orgasm ruined by this guy’s delivery speed.
I shut the door and carry the food to the kitchen, startling when I see Katniss in the hallway that leads to our bedroom. She’s put on clothes and is scowling.
“We’re definitely cursed,” she says.
“What?” I say with a half laugh as I set the pizza boxes on the counter.
“I was in the bedroom, staring at that damned picture from our wedding day and thinking about all the times we’ve been caught, interrupted, photographed, or had something disastrous happen, et cetera, since we got married.” She lifts her hand and starts ticking them off. “Our wedding day when Effie photographed us immediately after. Our wedding night with the neighbor and the candles and the fire alarm.” I can’t help laughing a little.
“Pizza?” I say as I flip open the lid, because food is the best way to help Katniss get thoughts straight in her mind and I have got to hear the end of this. It’s not the first time she’s suggested we’re cursed but if it’s going to be a recurring comment of hers, I’d like to know what she means. She doesn’t answer, but lifts a slice of mushroom and black olive straight from the box, taking a huge bite and cupping her hand under her chin to catch the strings of cheese.
“Then our honeymoon,” she continues before even swallowing.
“Ah yes,” I say and nod my head.
“With my twisted ankle and your burned butt. The fiasco with the picture reveal when we got back from our honeymoon. That time in the bakery–”
“That was your idea,” I remind her and she shakes her head.
“When ‘just a quickie’ turned into half a day’s worth of destroyed work for you. Last Christmas,” she doesn’t finish but I remember. It’d be hard to forget my oldest brother walking in on us trying something new… That was also the first time she mentioned this idea about us being cursed. “Rye’s engagement party last month? When everyone just knew what we’d been doing upstairs–”
“The hickey on your neck sort of gave us away.”
“The point is, before we got married, we got away with this shit all the time.” She takes another bite and gestures wildly. “In college…how many times did we make out with Johanna asleep across the room?”
“She would have high fived you for that if she knew. Actually, she probably did know.” Katniss ignores this, the volume of her speech rising to cover my commentary.
“Or fucked in my car parked in places maybe we shouldn’t have? We tried some crazy things with the bedsheets and that one time when you did that thing with my vibrator, and we never got injured or anything! Or what about that time in the movie theater?”
“Well this conversation is not helping me get rid of my erection,” I say and start working on my own slice. We manage to eat one slice each, and are starting on slice two when she picks the topic back up again.
“I’m serious, Peeta. We’re cursed and I think–” she stops talking and her eyes go wide. “Haymitch! When he stepped on my train!”
“That’s ridiculous,” I tease and she shakes her head.
“It makes perfect sense! He somehow cursed us when he stepped on my wedding dress! That bastard. I’m going to–” I fling my crust into the open box and grab her, tossing her over my shoulder. “Peeta!”
“What makes sense is finishing what we started now that we have some food in us,” I tell her. “Clearly you need another orgasm or five to clear your head of this curse nonsense.”
“I still have pizza in my hand!”
“Finish it before we reach the bedroom because your mouth will be too busy for eating in about thirty seconds.” Her answer is muffled and I laugh as I imagine her stuffing the rest of her slice in her mouth. “We’ll heat the rest up to eat it later. Then I’m giving that driver a terrible review.”
She laughs as I toss her on the bed. “That sounds like something I would do, not you.”
“He tested my limits, ringing the doorbell when I’m balls deep in my gorgeous wife,” I say as we start flinging clothes until we’re naked again. This time, I take off my prosthetic too. Within what feels like mere seconds, we’re laid out on the bed, her mouth busy just like I promised, her hands roaming over my back and shoulders as we kiss, her foot sliding up the side of my leg then back down. We’re in no rush this time. No timers to beat. So when I lift my head, she sighs instead of protesting. I trace her bottom lip with my thumb, wondering how I got so lucky. I don’t feel cursed at all. Quite the opposite, as I nuzzle her nose with mine.
“I wanna see your eyes when I come inside you,” I whisper, prompting her to open her eyes and the look in them floors me. So much love that I’m not sure I deserve it. And I wonder if she’ll look at our children with just as much love. I hope she does. “Maybe it’ll stick this time.”
I can’t help the hopeful note in my voice as she places her hands on my cheeks. I move to kiss her again and it registers too late that she was about to say something. I’m already deep into the kiss before I think to be polite and ask her what she was going to say.
“It can wait. Now deliver on your promises, Peeta.”
I grin down at her and watch her eyes as I let one hand caress over her body, take a meandering path over dips and rises, soft curves and puckered nipples. Down around her navel and finally between her legs. She swallows as I touch her, closes her eyes for a second as her hips undulate softly into my hand, once more coating my fingers in her need, drawing them deeper inside her. I watch her eyes darken and fog over with desire, sharpen when I find a spot or rhythm or pressure that she favors.
Eventually she whispers to me. “I need you inside me.”
Her body bows and flexes beneath me once were joined, presenting her breasts to me and I can’t ignore them, massaging and caressing all over her torso as I move inside her. Unhurried, leisurely touches that linger and heat. I feel torn in two in a way. Part of me wanting the fast and frantic with quick gratification. The other part wins out as she grasps at my arms and begs me down to kiss her. That’s the part that never wants this to end. The part that’s content to feel her surrounding me, welcoming me and loving me as much as I love her.
“Peeta,” she says softly when our lips part and I rest my forehead on hers, hips still rocking between her legs as she licks her lips and seems to come to a decision. She takes a deep breath and pulls me down to whisper in my ear. “I love you. And I want to spend every possible moment of the rest of our lives together. Now, like this. With our children, and after.”
I feel like I should stop, but she looks so earnest and the shuddering breath she takes when I start moving again seems to break the damn as she spills forth fears and hopes and happiness. Usually her words during sex don’t wander into such emotional territory. I’m reeling from it all and am barely able to focus on my pleasure, so much that I’m actually stunned when she scrapes her nails down my arms and arches beneath me.
“Oh god I’m gonna come. Peeta.”
I whisper her name and return my own hopes and fears to her ear, unsure if she even hears them over her own moans. And when she crests, she’s the most beautiful thing in the world, gray eyes locked on mine with stunned pleasure and love swirling together and singing off her lips. It only takes another two thrusts with her walls clenching me and then she claims my release right along with my hopes and my love.
We lay there, still joined at the hips and caressing over skin shimmering with sweat. Katniss kisses along my jaw and then plays with my hair while I keep my face hidden in the crook of her neck, lips just barely touching her skin as a content warmth washes over me.
In the morning, it’s actually surprising how easily our routine from the apartment adapts to the house. I’m up, showered and dressed before Katniss wakes and I get breakfast started. While I’m cooking, my phone reminds me that I can review the driver from last night. I open the app and fill out the form. I start with four and a half stars and glance up at the hallway as I hear water running. Katniss must be awake so I get her tea started. Then I contemplate my review. The pizza was delicious, even warmed up later on, and normally I’d be thrilled with the early arrival. Even though we eventually were able to finish, it’s still annoying me for some reason. Katniss’ words about how it’s something she would do, not me, still tickle at me, almost goading me into doing it, and for once, I decide to just go for it. Besides, the high star rating will show that I’m not really complaining.
Delivery time stated between 45 to 60 minutes but it was delivered within 25 minutes. This was a bit of an inconvenience as I was balls deep in the wife at the time.
I’ve just got her tea ready and my review posted when Katniss walks into the kitchen, still in my t-shirt, a pregnancy test in her hands and a wide smile on her face. She just stands there, silently radiating joy as my brain leaps straight into the sky.
“Is that…? Are we…?”
She nods and tears well up in her eyes. She flings herself into my embrace as I make a choking noise of joy and hold her tight. We stay like that for a long time. I’m probably going to be late for work, but I don’t even care. I just want to live in this moment for as long as I possibly can. We’re having a baby. That alone should suffice as an excuse for being late to work.
And I may need to revise that review…
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Text
Why Not?
Part Twenty-Five
Twenty-Four    {Masterlist}    Twenty-Six
Chapter Word Count: 1197
Trigger Warnings: Negativity, panic attacks, possibly mentions of flashbacks and huge arguments and such
Please tell me if I need to tag anything else :)
*Also, I’m planning on having this story as a slow burn, so please be prepared :)
Prompts: “Do I look like I give a fuck?”, “I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I’m feeling a lot of  it.”, and “Not to dictate your life, but drop your shitty friends.”
A/N: Happy reading! (Also, feel free to comment your thoughts! I love reading comments :))
Also, if you’d like to be added to the tags list, please let me know! :D
      _____________________________________________________
An intense feeling of happiness was, unfortunately, rare for you, so this felt like a moment of pure ecstasy. A bonus was that you'd also managed to bring all of your stuff along with you.
However, you couldn't stay in the compound. In fact, unless someone was willing to hide you, you probably couldn't stay anywhere for long. You had no doubt that Tony would track you. The real question is whether or not he'd trust the rest of the team to tell them where you are.
It took a few minutes, but you soon had a destination in mind, and you were quickly imagining it.
Now getting there took a little longer (probably because you were pretty sure you weren't on the verge of immense amounts of pain), but you were in Amsterdam in a matter of seconds.
Although, much to your rapidly beating heart's surprise, you were also in the middle of a busy street.
You dodged a car, jumping onto the pavement, where you almost got run over by a fucking cyclist. This was scary and all, but it got ten times worse when you almost got run over by another fucking cyclist.
Ugh, and to think not that long ago you'd come back home to think this would be a nice week with the family. Oh, how the times change.
With a short sigh, you look around you, realizing this... wasn't where you really wanted to be. Where you wanted to be was home, but then again, you weren't really sure where that was anymore. Were you supposed to consider HYDRA home? Your house back in Brooklyn? The Avengers tower?
The questions were jumbled-- jumbled to the point where it was starting to get to you. It was... confusing, to say the least. Focussing on it made you dizzy.
So, you closed your eyes and focused on a place that felt as close to a home as you would be welcome in right now.
.
..
...
.....
....
...
..
.
When you opened your eyes, you smiled, happy to find yourself in Nelson and Murdock (Attorney at Law) 's office. You knew that here, out of anywhere, you'd be welcomed with open arms. You were also happy to admit you could get past Matt, the human lie detector, without him calling you out on your bullshit. (At least so far, anyway.)
You were glad to see that they were also there. Karen and Foggy looked a little shocked by your presence, but Matt was smiling.
"Y/n," he smiled, "it's good to see you again." he joked, a hand coming to greet you. Apparently, they hadn't really been working.
Well no, they'd been arguing, but that didn't matter. They usually tried not to argue in front of you anyway.
With that, you smiled, "Nice to hear you too, Matt." you joked in reply. He laughed and shook his head.
"It's always jokes with you, huh?" He chuckled again.
"Lmao they're funny so why not spread some smiles, right?" You blushed, glad he couldn't see it. He could probably feel the microscopic raise in temperature though.
"Y/n, why're you here exactly?" Foggy asked, looking at your arm skeptically. You must've gotten scrapes from almost getting run over five-billion times.
You gave him an equally skeptical look, "Since when is it illegal to visit old friends?" You asked, still trying to maintain you usually chill composure. Never once have they had to chew you out before. And since it looks like they were just in the middle of a grand argument, you didn't want this time to be the first.
Looks like fate didn't want to give you what you wanted.
"I can taste the fact that you have scrapes all over your arms, Y/n." Matt chuckled, probably trying to seem chill so you'd open up.
Your smile kind of faded as you looked at your arm, and you sighed, wondering if you should even bother talking to them.
See, the problem with your relationship with this small team, was that you usually liked to get away from your problems with them, not talk about them and try to figure them out and all that. Yeah no. That's not something you really did with anyone. (Except occasionally Peter or Pietro, because they know the best places in the city.)
So, you sighed, and with a heavy heart, spoke.
"I... I've gotta go..." You start to concentrate on a new destination, "But if anyone asks, you never saw me. You didn't even know I was missing."
There was chatter. They asked you questions. They even tried to hold onto you. It didn't matter though, they were all gone soon. You'd disappeared.
Monster.
You were in... Jessica Jones's office....
"Uhh..." You frowned, "I didn't mean to come here... How's she going to help me?" You asked yourself, "I doubt she remembers me, so that means she'll probably kill me so I--"
"Well you're right about one thing," Someone spoke up from behind you, "I don't remember you," She was holding a beer bottle, and she didn't look alarmed in the slightest.
"Cool power ya got there. Can you use it to get out of my apartment?" She asked, sounding less harsh than you'd thought she would.
The two of you had only met once, but it was long enough for you to have read her brain by the time you two parted ways. What you got from her was that she was a good person, but she didn't do good things because they didn't work for her. She didn't want to spend her life being endlessly disappointed by the faulty methods Matt or Ironfist may use, so she created her own, sort of legal way to go. Some would call her a bad person, some would call her a misguided saint. Either way, at the core of everything, she strived to realistically help people where she could, so she did.
You smiled at Jessica, trying your best not to feel sad about your situation. The last thing you needed was a pity party. Thankfully, Jessica was not one to pity people. Maybe she as the type of person you needed right now.
"Theoretically, yes." You answered, "But I came here without intending to, so I'm not really sure if I can. Y'know?" You shrugged, turning to fully face Jessica.
Jessica sniffed, taking a swig of her beer, "Sure, sure..." she frowned, looking at her beer, "This brand is shittier than I remember." she sighed, taking another swing anyways.
"That's why whiskey's better." you said, "It's stronger too, so you don't have to drink as much if you don't want to." You shrugged.
Jessica squinted at you, "Aren't you a little young for whiskey?" she asked.
You smiled and chuckled, "Did your youth stop you?" you asked.
She nodded, "Point taken."
After a moment of silence, you clear your throat, checking the time once more before turning your phone completely off so the Avengers have a harder time tracking you.
Another moment went by, and you sighed, a sheepish smile coming to your face.
"So... it's getting late--"
"Beat it, kid."
"Great, I'll take the couch."
...
_____
Taglist: @introvertedsin @galacticalstarcat @acidrain707
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River/doctor smut prompt: “I love it when you ride me.”
He pulls out all the stops for her birthday - it’s her first since they got married, and he wants it to be special. He wants everything to be special for her.
He takes her to dinner at the finest restaurant in four galaxies (he would’ve gone five, but they were all booked up for a century) and then dancing at three different parties across space and time. He settles for the fanciest first, at ends the night at a raunchy, sensual night club borderlining on an alien orgy festival.
He watches River, the sway of her hips hypnotising; the light of her eyes dark and seductive. Her hair bounces in the light and he can see it matted to her skin by sweat. He wants to lean in and taste her skin, but he swallows the impulse down and continues watching her, barely aware of the other bodies around him. 
She smiles and it’s beautiful - everything about her is beautiful, but her smile is the most beautiful part of her. She crooks a finger and he follows, falling into her as naturally as gravity. He wonders why he tried to fight this for so long - he never stood a chance.
His hands find her tiny waist, caressing her skin gently. The garment she’s chosen for this party is short, skimpy and thin, and he can feel everything - in some angles, he can even see everything. But he’d been too busy staring appreciatively to complain that everyone else would have the same view too. Besides, everyone could look - but he’d be the only one touching.
She turns in his arms, her back to his chest, and she wraps her arms around his neck, looking up at him through her eyelashes. He leans down, his lips grazing her temple gently.
“Enjoying yourself?” He asks softly, his hands going lower and caressing her bare thighs.
“Immensely,” she answers happily, leaning her head back to rest on his shoulder. “Thank you, sweetie.”
“Anytime, dear. I like seeing you happy,” he says, smiling fondly at her. His hands slip discreetly to her arse and gives her a playful squeeze, making her chuckle in surprise and delight. “You look so very sexy tonight.”
She laughs again. “My, my Doctor, the alcohol must really be getting to you.”
He quirks an eyebrow in confusion. “I didn’t drink any.”
“It’s infused in the air. Some kind of alien technology,” she says. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”
“Hard to notice anything else but you,” he says honestly, and to his surprise, he catches a glimpse of his wife blushing in the dim light.
She says nothing, letting him sway their bodies gently to the rhythm of the music. He becomes acutely aware of the moans, groans and other noises of ecstasy filling the air and he ducks his head instead, a tiny bit afraid of what he’ll find when he lifts his eyes. But he can feel River’s body reacting to everything - the way her body tenses a little and her nipples pebble under her dress; the way she sways her hips purposefully across his crotch and the way her breathing grows heavier; the way she closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip.
He’d known how the night would end - had planned for it to turn out this way, even - but he hadn’t quite planned for himself to be rock hard and unable to contain himself. If he isn’t careful he might actually unzip his pants and take her right here - and though he knows that River wouldn’t mind in the slightest, he doesn’t want anyone else to be privy to the incomparable sight that is his wife in the throes of passion and ecstasy.
“Let’s go back now. Please,” he adds, fingers lightly grazing in between her legs - a silent promise for what’s to come.
She nods, cheeks flushed and body trembling with arousal, taking his hand and following him without a word.
They don’t make it to the Tardis without touching each other - once they exit the club, the cool night air surrounding them and taking in the sight of the quiet, empty street, they seize each other. He presses her to a wall and she moans, hands untucking his shirt to caress the muscles of his stomach while his one of his finds a home in her hair. The other hand grabs a thigh, bringing it to his waist and pushing the fabric of her dress up.
She breaks the kiss with a discontent whimper and whispers, “Tardis,” before claiming his lips again in another equally passionate, desperate kiss.
He almost throws caution to the wind and takes her right there, but her words register in his brain and he pushes himself off the wall. He never breaks the kiss, walking her backwards to the dark alley where they’d parked, hands roaming her body eagerly.
It takes some time but they finally find the blue police box, and he sighs in relief as he pushes her against the door, lips attacking her neck.
“Sweetie, please,” she whispers, arms around him and fighting hard to hold onto the one bit of self control she has left before she starts jumping him right outside the Tardis. “Inside, please, now -”
He growls and lifts her up, kicking the door open and entering the Tardis. Finally in private, he doesn’t hold back - he drops himself onto the jump seat. She leans her head down, kissing him feverishly as he bunches the material of her dress up to her waist.
“No knickers?” He asks.
“You really should be used to that by now, Doctor.”
“Never.”
She pulls the buttons off his shirt and he can’t find it in himself to even pretend to care - he just wants her. His fingers busy themselves with the button on his trousers and he almost tears the material in frustration before River’s hands take over as she smiles in amusement at him. He makes himself busy by pressing kisses to her neck and shoulder, his breath hitching each time her fingers lightly brush against him.
“River, please - need you -”
“I know,” she soothes, and with one deft motion she pulls his trousers and pants down just enough to free him. “There we go, feel better?”
“Don’t tease, you minx.” He grits out, hands finding her waist and gripping them tightly, intent on guiding her.
She smirks and settles herself directly above him, breathing heavy as she captures his lips and sinks down onto his cock. The moan that leaves both their mouths is decadent, full of relief and satisfaction - but it isn’t until River breaks the kiss and pushes him down against the seat, hips moving intently against his that he feels like he’s finally in heaven.
“River,” he moans, because he can’t say anything else. He’s lost every word in his vocabulary and he can’t think of anything but his wife on top of him, face contorted in pleasure, moving up and down slowly on his cock. He doesn’t need anything else in the universe but her. “River, River, River -”
“Sweetie,” she moans back, her voice high pitched the way it only ever is when they’re fucking like this. “Sweetie, you feel so - so fucking good, oh, oh -”
“I love you,” he whispers. Her breathing quickens and she starts moving her hips in a circular motion, riding him expertly and hitting every spot inside her with his cock. “Love you so much - love this so much. Don’t stop - oh, River - I love it when you ride me. I love it so much.”
She moans louder and fucks him harder, faster, until everything he says is a jumble of incoherent words and noises, and he can’t see anything besides the sight of his wife bouncing up and down on top of him. He feels her muscles clenching around him and knows she’s close - he’s so, so close too. He grips her hips tighter and meets her every thrust, pushing himself deeper inside her as she throws her head back and screams in pleasure.
Their clothes are soaked in sweat - there are patches on her sequined dress and his shirt is almost completely soaked through but none of that matters right now. He wants her to come so hard around him - and he wants her to know that it’s just the start of an entire night (and hopefully day) of them intertwined with one another.
“Glorious, so glorious, my River - my wife. I’ll show you tonight - and hopefully every other night too - how much I love you. How you make everything better. You are amazing like this, wife. So bloody amazing.”
Her moans and gasps are higher and more frequent, and her hips thrust in time. He tries desperately to hang on but he wants River to come first, and he moves his hips desperately under hers.
One, two, three more thrusts and she’s gone, her back arching and her mouth open wide as she screams her release into the air. He doesn’t stop thrusting, his hips jerking as his own release blinds his vision. He almost never wants to stop. This is where he’d stop time, if he could - River coming in his arms and him on the edge. He loves it.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he pants, laying back against the cushions on the jump seat.
“I love you,” she smiles back, panting heavily. She reaches up to push the hair off his face and press a kiss to his forehead. “Tonight was amazing, sweetie.”
“It hasn’t ended yet,” he tells her, smiling brighter. He sits up on the jump seat and secures his arms around her waist to make sure she doesn’t fall off. One hand plays with the ends of her curls and presses a kiss to her sweat-soaked neck. “I bought a new pair of handcuffs for you and a special cream. It’s suppose to be a sensory enhancer.”
She gives him the most loving look. “You know exactly how to make me smile, my love.”
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sirpepperston · 3 years
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is there a post about Amelia earhart taking ecstasy with coconut crabs or did I dream that up
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blouisparadise · 6 years
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Upon request, here is a list of very smutty bottom Louis fics. For this list, we chose fics that are mainly more graphic smut (like PWP fics) or fics that have many graphic smut scenes. Happy reading!
1) Lips Are Like The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 2360 words
Harry licks over Louis’ hole slowly, deliberately, and his tongue is like velvet and Louis’ skin is burning at every junction where Harry touches him and it’s all so good he thinks he might cry. He licks a few more times, moaning softly like he’s relishing the taste of Louis and that’s just, well, fuck.
2) Louder Louder | Explicit | 2931 words
There’s really only one way to get Louis out of a mood this terrible, and Harry is prepared to sacrifice his entire evening if necessary.
3) Handprints And Good Grips | Explicit | 3330 words
Harry wants to pull them down and suck him off. Harry wants to never take them off and eat him out over the lace. Harry wants to push them aside and fuck the imprint right into Louis’ body.
4) Painless With Immense Distance | Not Rated | 3793 words
“You know when we talked about kinks and stuff awhile back and you said you wanted to try something?” Harry continues with a devious grin. Louis’s a bit lost and he tries to think about exactly what Harry is thinking about which honestly could be a handful of things.
“Prostate massage?” Harry asks like it’s as common as the sky is blue.
5) A Touch Of Your Love | Explicit | 3856 words
Harry needs to work out. Louis wants him to pay attention to him. They find a compromise.
6) Lagrangian Point | Explicit | 4055 words
They find each other again the night of Valentine’s Day.
7) Feel The Need | Explicit  | 4898 words
Louis and Harry attend Liam’s Halloween party. Risky Business ensues.
8) Hook’s Intention | Explicit | 5156 words
Harry hadn’t realized what, exactly, being the Captain Hook to Louis’ Peter Pan would entail.
9) Power Inside | Explicit | 5861 words
Louis wrinkles his nose and pokes Harry again. “You want a baby,” he repeats.
Again, Harry frowns. “Uh, yeah, Lou, I want a baby. So do you.”
Where is this even going. Harry honestly has no clue.
Abruptly, Louis stops frowning and practically throws himself off of Harry, splaying himself out on his side of the bed, arms spread wide. “Okay. Let’s make a baby, then.”
Can eyebrows get permanently attached to a hairline? Harry has a feeling he’s going to find out. “You do realize - ” he starts.
“Yes, Harry, I realize,” Louis says, stroking his fingers over the inside of his own thigh, ruking his shorts up. “You gonna shut up about it and give me a baby or am I gonna have to go out and find someone else to fulfill my deepest desires?”
He’s a nutjob. He’s a complete nutjob. Harry’s in love with a complete nutjob.
10) Throw Me In The Deep End | Mature | 5914 words
The one where Harry is a very ferocious pirate captain and Louis is a mighty scoundrel in need of some good dicking.
11) Spark A New Flame | Explicit | 6100 words
Louis is nineteen, Harry is twenty-one, and it’s not all that hard to figure out what happens when they both go clubbing.
12) We’ll Stumble Through Heaven | Explicit | 6504 words
Louis likes to be a good boy for his alpha.
13) You Drive Me Wild (You Know You Do) | Explicit | 6632 words
Louis flirts with the Australian interviewers and Harry gets possessive.
14) Call Me Shallow But I’m Only Getting Deeper | Explicit | 7367 words
The one where Louis is a brat so Harry spanks him with a riding crop.
15) That Ugly Ass Yellow Shirt | Explicit | 7502 words | Sequel 1 | Sequel 2 | Sequel 3
“This,” says Louis, holding up a shirt from the box, “is the ugliest fucking shirt I’ve ever seen.”
16) Give It Up To Me | Explicit | 8134 words
"You're going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge," he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke. "And?" Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis' arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. "What if I wanted you to?"
17) Love To Make Him Moan | Explicit | 8106 words
They fuck like they’re sex starved, when they’re really, really not.
18) Makes Perfect | Explicit | 8610 words
“What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?” Louis presses. “Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don’t know, a pillow or something. Whatever it’d fit around.”
Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. “It’s different, though, innit? When it’s a real person. A pillow won’t snog me.”
“Why should it?” says Louis. “You can’t even take its bra off.”
19) Let The Beating Waves Come Drag Me Down | Explicit | 9947 words
“Just try it, the worst thing that could ever happen it’s that you won’t like it” Niall had told him. And there he was, on the way to one of these pubs created for perverts, willing to break up the routine to try something new, something that terrified as much as excited him. One night to get swept up in passion, one night to let the devil get in. "Tonight, I’m going to make you scream of ecstasy Louis,” he said with a raspy voice full of control, making him tremble with anticipation.
20) Anything Goes | Explicit | 10275 words
Harry probably shouldn't be amused that Louis has a death grip on his hand and is dragging away from an event that, you know, they should be at. And he still probably shouldn't have that god awful smirk plastered to his face when Louis shoves him into the bathroom and steps in before locking the door.
21) Bite | Explicit | 10980 words
Louis is a vampire hunter, and Harry is too happy being his prey.
22) The Sweat On Your Skin | Explicit | 11014 words
Louis is certain there’s no better way to come down from a post-gym high than a naked romp in the bed with his favorite workout partner.
23) Gnossiene | Explicit | 11276 words
Louis sets a challenge for himself; it gets a bit out of hand.
24) Can’t Blame Gravity | Explicit | 11931 words
Note: Mentions of bottom Harry.
That time in 2015, when Harry went MIA around Louis’ birthday.
25) Let’s Take the World By Storm | Explicit | 14656 words
Harry lifts his head off Louis’ chest to look at Louis’ face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, but our sex life feels a bit boring, ‘sall,” Louis says, completely avoiding eye contact.
“Boring.” Harry says flatly. He doesn’t say anything more, and Louis looks up to see that Harry seems to be mulling it over.
“Yeah, boring,“ Louis says, and keeps talking before Harry can pipe up. “I mean, think about it. We’ve been dating since X Factor, and now things are starting to drag a bit. We don’t even have the time for handjobs anymore, much less actual sex.”
26) The Seed Inside You, Baby, Do You Feel It Growin’ | Explicit | 14793 words
Louis really wants Harry to get him pregnant.
27) Fumbling in the Dark | Explicit | 21599 words
Louis is straight, Harry is not. They still shag a lot.
28) Another Day Gettin’ Into Trouble | Explicit | 25619 words
Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.
In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?
Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.
Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.
29) Nicotine | Explicit | 32345 words
“We’re two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we’d never date.” Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.
30) Who Would’ve Thought | Explicit | 44275 words | Companion fic
The idea doesn’t come to Louis until they’ve been at the bungalow for a couple of days. Harry has no idea that he’s going to pop a knot. He’s been living his life with the expectation that he’s going to be a beta, and Louis isn’t going to tell him otherwise.
Louis is an omega, though, and most omegas want to be filled up with a knot, fucked the way their bodies are made to be fucked, and Louis is no different. In ten years he wants to have an alpha waiting for him at home who will hold him down and fuck him exactly the way Louis wants to be fucked without worrying that they’re going to expect him to stay at home, open a joint bank account, raise a litter of babies, cook and clean and, most importantly, be submissive. For that to happen Louis needs an entirely different kind of alpha.
And so the plan is born.
31) Pinkies Never Lie | Explicit | 83616 words
AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.
32) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words
“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.
Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.
“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.
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Cardiacs - Sing to God
“Stick and suck dribble in my dirty shoes / And crown me everything alive.”
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If you’re like me right now, you’re probably in a bit of a funk. Quarantine got you down, probably feeling very lonely, maybe some shit didn’t go your way. Sometimes, that unrelenting grasp of negativity can consume everything you do. It infects your entire way of thinking - the entire way you go about your day. There’s something to be said for just how powerful it can be. It can coat your entire body from head to toe. 
There’s none of that in the world of Tim Smith and the Cardiacs.
Or at least, if there is, it’s masterfully disguised.
I’m not going to start this like I started the Daughters write-up, I’m not extremely well versed in the Cardiacs’ immense catalog. I’ve dipped my toes into other albums and other songs. There are some I absolutely love: the “Fairy Tales from the Rotten Shed” sessions are impeccably tight, incredibly hard-hitting, catchy, and complex. Some of the best live rock I’ve heard in a long, long time. Along with that, their material around the release of diehard fan-favorite “The Seaside” is impeccable, and this video of the track “R.E.S” cemented the track as one of my favorites in their catalog. They’ve been covered by everyone alive. Damon Albarn of Blur and Gorillaz, Mike Patton of Faith No More and Mr. Bungle (I’ll get to you, “California,”), Steven Wilson of Porcupine Tree, and Radiohead all cite them as influences. Hell, their fantastic “Seaside” track “To Go Off and Things” was covered by none other than Napalm Death. Even complete with Cardiacs-esque bells chiming in towards the beginning of the track. There’s something to be said about the absolute magic of Tim Smith’s music that draws you in and - once it fully has you - ceases to ever let up. No other music will ever hit that same spot for you again. Yet, even compared to all the previously mentioned superb material, no other record in their entire catalog - or in the history of recorded music - captures the essence of the insanely unique, pure, raw fun like “Sing to God.”
Sing to God is every beautifully strange, hyper-pitched and lightning speed moment Tim Smith has ever written in microcosm. It is a record which forbids any and all from coming into it with sour attitudes - for these people were doomed to never have any fun from the start. Across its wondrous two discs are annihilating ear-worms, off-key circus arpeggios, beautiful instrumental work, and cryptically cathartic lyrics. This is one that rarely lets you get too long in its track listing without reminding you why it’s the only album of it’s kind. And it starts from the first track.
“Eden on the Air” is sort of a misleading opening - in a sense. It’s absolutely not misleading when the chorus of pitch-shifted vocals back up Tim over a layer of sparkle and Disney-esque sheen, as this captures the demented magic that lies in store. Yet it may be misleading in the way that fails to inform the listener of the mountain of switch-ups and technically dynamic music in store. Instead, it opts for a relaxed, catchy chorus of vocals singing in harmony. As the track ends, the background noise begins to fade away, and the few seconds you have can only prepare you so much.
CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK
With four counts on the drumsticks, “Eat It Up Worms Hero” sends you flying backwards into the wall, leaving glorious indentations in what you thought was a solid foundation. It’s best listened to with headphones turned to max. The chugging, uncommonly timed riffs find just enough time to burrow themselves into your brain before a few suddenly left turns punctuated by a burgeoning bassline and synth lines that came from another galaxy. It’d be impossible to try to name every switch-up in a Cardiacs track such as this, so I’ll only focus on my absolute favorite. Right on the mark of 1:01, more hell breaks loose than the even comparable amounts of hell that has broken loose before it. And for 15 seconds, it sounds as though the band is playing the song with earplugs in and blindfolds on. It was absolutely mesmerizing the first time I heard it. It was strange, because, as a ~16 year old kid - I never realized total random jumbles of complete random noise and sound could be so calculated. It wasn’t until about a year later that I realized that the band succeeded in making those 15 seconds more catchy than so, so many other rock records. However, my favorite part of this switch-up is that when the song breaks back into a glorious, major-key sing-a-long fest, that incredibly dissonant yet ungodly earworm-ish arpeggiating synth that sounds like it’s programmed to climb up an endless wall is still there. And it’s the catchiest part of the track. Even when the Cardiacs are indulging in the pure, clean type of fun - there’s always the Tim Smith lurking black comedy in the back of your mind. It’s beautiful. After one long-held Tim Smith shout, the song completely breaks apart for all of ten seconds. Right after, with the suddenness of an out-of-control freight train, that incredibly energetic riff from the first few seconds kicks you in the head. It slowly fades out into a classic Cardiacs piano progression until the sounds of someone actually being kicked in the head end the track. The track is over. This was the second track.
“Fiery Gun Hand” is a personal favorite on the record, and showcases the band’s ability to not only play into the tropes of their genre that they so thoroughly subvert in other material - but master them as well. The dueling guitar riffs are dueling in the most literal sense of the word. They’re fighting for individual strum space, syncing up perfectly in each of the listener’s ears until all of a sudden, this incredibly catchy synth line leads the band into two-chord heaven. It’s powerful - it feels raw while being immensely thought out and produced. The kicker here is the bridge, where the band switches key with so much effort and grace to complete another earworm on a record that’s probably already had, like, 9 or 10. “ "Click. Run! / Hello sir / I am in a tango / in a different timing I will never lose my anger I / haven't got a secret / Secrets are in my secret box / down my avenue / Suck away my tiny dress / I'm cleaner than a filthy mess / Cleaner than a big mess!"
“Bellyeye” was a single from this record, and it’s easy to hear why. That groovy guitar riff that graces the beginning is immediately pleasurable to even the most hellbent of Cardiacs despisers. The refrain after the verses accentuates what truly lies at the heart of the record - immense catchiness layered over and over again on top of itself to the point where - to an uninitiated listener - it may even sound overbearing. The real winning moment here however comes at the end of the third verse, where Smith, backed up by some newfound horns, feels the soul in his chest while singing “Storm of feeling good fun / fuck my animal heart / and ache / And heart  / and ache / Tiring now dishing out all my fancy almond ache / And arm and ache.” The song ends on an absolutely flabbergasting shift into what feels like less than half-time, swaggering itself out the door like the last man in a parade - who happens to be doing a conga dance.
If I kept writing about every song I loved off this record, this post would stretch for another three miles or so. So let me just talk about the crowned jewel of this album - the song that every Cardiacs fan will tell you absolutely blew them away the first time they heard it - the second disc’s opener: “Dirty Boy”
Dirty Boy feels to me like the logical conclusion of prog rock music. That’s an overused term to describe a lot of things - but it’s hard for me to reach into my brain for a song that truly encases the essence of prog and twists it to such a pulp. Dirty Boy is climbing a mountain that never stops growing in front of your eyes, but you’re simultaneously turning into a giant while you do. And, oh, by the way, a chorus of actual literal angels are cheering you on and joining you in shanties. Good lord this song. The opening guitar chord and the ensuing, absolutely, mind-destroyingly catchy riff that follows, would fit perfectly in some type of futuristic old-western showdown type scenario. Within the first minute in a half, Dirty Boy already gives you a tease of the absolutely orgasmic euphoria you’ll feel once the song has peaked. The line “He skip with cow eyed smile / to the blissful / Into craggy dress and / we will praise him him / We will praise him/” gives you an incredibly powerful high before sending you back climbing up that beautiful, beautiful mountain. The track is just under nine minutes of pure genius and militaristically beautiful songwriting technique. That climax. Oh god, that climax. After the six minute mark - even though it’s far from the last song of an (in my opinion) perfect record, Smith leaves his parting words for the song - and for you - the listener that was previously so blind to the jubilistic ecstasy of the world of the Cardiacs. One that leaves you begging for more, much like me.
“Over and out.”
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padal-oser-blog · 7 years
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Caught Red Handed
Pairing: Sam x reader
Warnings: smut, swearing
Requested: not even a little
Word count: 2159
Blurb: this is a hand kink imagine because I fuckin love hands, try to stop me bitch I dare you. no but if a hand kink isn't something you're interested in, you can totally move on it's cool I get that it's not a best seller. but I'm just gonna put it out there that if by the end of this you don't see my side, you're straight up wrong. I'm not even sorry, you'd better thank me
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"(Y/n)? You okay there?" Sam asks you, but he sounds far away. Your eyes are transfixed on his hands wrapped around the steering wheel of the impala, flecks of blood on his wrists and arms from the hunt you two just finished.
"Okay, you're seriously starting to worry me, (y/n). Did something happen? Why won't you answer me?" Sam says, glancing worriedly from you to the road and back. You come back into reality, about to apologize and brush it off when Sam does the unthinkable. It's like he knows that his hands are getting you hot and bothered. He snaps in front of your face, fingers flexing and veins standing out.
You groan aloud, unable to help yourself. He was retracting his hand, but freezes at the sound.
"(Y/n)?" he asks, and the air feels thicker suddenly. His hand stays put for a moment before he takes it away. Then, with both hands on the wheel, he pulls the car onto the side of the road and shuts it off. He unbuckles his seatbelt too, but you're frozen, watching his hands do all of these things, looking hotter every second. You lick your lips.
"(Y/n)... are you... are you staring at my hands?" he inquires. Part of your brain is sounding the panic alarm, knowing that the careful work you had done to cover up your hand kink was all coming undone. But for whatever reason, his hands seem extra appealing today.
When you don't answer his question, Sam whips his hands behind his back, and you let out a whine. A smirk grows on his face, your pout confirming his suspicion. With his hands out of sight, it fully hits you what's happening.
"What? No, Sam, no, what? No," you say, shaking your head vigorously, but to no use. He's laughing triumphantly, looking at you in disbelief. Shit, shit, shit.
"You have a thing for my hands," he states, giddy. You feel like crying. This is so not happening. What the hell is wrong with you today?
"No, no, no Sam, that's not true," you try to backtrack, knowing it's pointless but needing to try to cover this up.
"Don't be shy, baby. I think it's kinda hot," he says, still laughing. Your cheeks are flushed bright red and you have never wanted to be swallowed by the earth more than in this moment.
"Sammy, no, listen, I-"
"I bet you'd be less shy if I put my hands on you," Sam shuts you up, his voice an octave or two lower than before. Your eyes go wide and you bite your lip to keep yourself in check, sucking in air through your teeth.
He laughs again at your reaction, breaking the sexy act and making your face go even redder. This is crazy embarrassing.
"Stop Sam, this is harassment," you whine, giving up on trying to deny what's happening.
"I'm sorry baby, you're just so cute when you're flustered. And who knew you had a kinky side!" He exclaims, and you swat his arm, cross with him as he doesn't stop laughing.
"Leave me alone, you jerk!" You say, hitting him playfully again. He smiles and takes the chance to lean into you, his lips meeting yours. It's a warm and sweet kiss, one that says he's sorry for teasing. But you know he's not that sorry, because he's still smiling madly.
You kiss him back anyways, unlocking your seat belt to scoot closer. Then Sam pulls his hands back out from behind him and gently places them on your jaw, making you moan lightly into his mouth. He takes the opportunity to start exploring your mouth with his tongue, thumbs caressing your cheeks as your body turns to jello under his touch.
He pulls back from the kiss for a moment, face still close to yours and hands still holding your chin. "I love you, (y/n)," he says, leaning back into another quick kiss before pulling away once more. "And these hands," Sam's fingers slide down over your neck, past your shoulders, and to your chest. Now he puts his mouth up against your ear, cupping your still covered breasts, and says, "These hands... are gonna prove it to you."
You moan as he trails his hands down your front and up under your shirt. They're cold against your flushed skin, and his lips suck on your neck as you throw your head back. He uses his grip on your ribs to push you back so you're laying up against the window and he's straddling you. Applying more pressure, he rubs your back, arms stretching out your shirt and lifting it up as he reaches around you.
After tracing up and down your spine a few more times, Sam finally pushes your shirt all the way up and off, running his hands over your arms to help slide it off. His palms never leave your skin, and this is the longest you've ever had his hands on you non-stop. It's clear that you're enjoying yourself, bucking your hips up into Sam and letting out sighs and moans.
"Sam, oh, god, please, Sam," you whimper, not sure what you're begging for but not caring. He unhooks your bra, once again utilizing his hands with every movement. His fingers trace your breasts, and after he's had his fun playing with you that way, he leans his head down to suck on them.
Sam keeps one hand on the nipple not in his mouth, switching back and forth, and uses the other to push flat against your arching back. His wet mouth glides against your hot skin and makes raw, filthy sounds. He tries to look up at you as he works, but his hair falls into his face as he does so. You make a move to push it out of the way, but he uses the hand on your back to latch onto your wrist and put it back by your side. You look down at him, confused.
Sam, with his left hand pinching your left nipple and mouth sucking your right one into his mouth, takes his free hand and runs it through his hair. You claw at his back and moan exceptionally loud, watching his hand push back and weave within his soft brown hair. His eyes are locked on you and he doesn't stop what he's doing for a second.
"Sam!" You cry out, feeling so turned on it's hard for you to catch your breath. He finally releases your breasts, coming back up to kiss you. His lips are slick with his own saliva, and the kiss is open mouthed and passionate. He places one hand on the nape of your neck to pull you into him even further, fingers gripping snugly. His other hand ventures lower.
Sam amazingly undoes your jeans with just one hand, and the dexterity of his fingers makes you moan again into his lips. He gives a little laugh, but doesn't slow down at all. He tugs down the waistband of your pants and slips his hand into them, staying outside of your underwear. Then, using just his middle finger, he grazes across your pussy lips through the fabric. It makes you gasp, but it's nowhere near enough contact for you, so you push your hips down, trying to grind onto his hand. Sam clicks his tongue in disapproval and uses his other hand to hold you in place.
"Let my hands do the work, babe," he whispers, but it only makes you more desperate to buck into him. He gradually applies more pressure, but it's torturously slow.
After far too much teasing, Sam finally pushes aside your soaked panties. You grip tighter onto his shoulders, trying to stay steady. He leans in to kiss you, distracting you. You get so caught up with his tongue on yours that you jump in surprise when he shoves one finger into you with no warning. In your startled jump, you of course bite down on your own tongue. The sound that comes out next is somewhere between pain and ecstasy as Sam's finger pauses inside of you.
"Geez, you okay?" He asks, genuinely concerned and seeming to forget that he has a digit knuckle deep inside you. You writhe around a bit, trying to get more pleasure from his still hand, but he must see it as more pain.
"Shit, I'm sorry (y/n), I-"
"Ahg, for fucks sake Sam! Fucking finger me already!" you cry out, unable to stop your frustration. A smile creeps up on his face as he realizes what he's accidentally done. You growl when he still doesn't move.
"Oh, you want me to finger fuck your little pussy, is that it?" He asks, just barely starting to shake his finger from side to side against your walls.
"Please, Sam!" You scream out, needy and ready to beg if it's what he wants. God, anything to stop the waiting. Anything for him to finger you.
And as suddenly as he started the first time, he begins thrusting his finger into you again. You cry his name, throwing your head back and panting as he picks up the pace. He's using two fingers now, scissoring them inside of you and stretching you out. You feel overwhelmed with buzzing excitement.
"Think you can take a third, baby?" Sam asks, and you smile when you realize he's panting nearly as hard as you are. But as what he's asking registers in your mind, that smile is quickly replaced with concern.
"Sam," you warn, trying to keep your voice level as he keeps up his pace. With the hand holding your hip, he uses his thumb to caress your skin reassuringly.
"I think you can," he says, nodding with resolve. You try to prepare yourself but your body protests instead.
"Sam, no, Sam, I don- aa-ah oh my god - fucking shit, Sam!" you yell, feeling the sting of his third finger entering you at the same pace. Before, the speed was exhilarating, but now, it's overwhelming to the point of making you incapable of thinking straight.
Everything is jumbled in your head except for the clear idea of how good Sam's fingers feel inside of you. Eventually his second hand finds its way down to flick and tap on your clit, making the sensation even stronger.
"C'mon baby, c'mon, c'mon, you can do it. Do it for me, baby, cum all over my fingers. That's it, that's it, ride my hand, c'mon baby," Sam urges, going hard on your clit and thrusting all three fingers knuckles deep, curling them inside you each time. You can't stop your hips from pushing down into him, knowing you're moments away from your orgasm.
When it comes, it comes hard. Your legs shake, you squeeze your eyes shut, and even though you try to scream, nothing comes out of your open mouth. Sam whispers encouragement the whole way through it, seeming to enjoy himself greatly despite how his hand must hurt clamped between your legs.
He pulls his hands away as you finish, letting you try to catch your breath. You're both smiling widely.
"Thank you," you breathe out, and Sam laughs lightly, kissing your cheek.
"For what?" he asks, and you blush.
"For embracing my hand thing," you sheepishly explain, and he laughs again, kissing your lips this time.
" 'Course, baby. But, uh, we aren't done yet," he replies with a glint is his eyes. You survey him warily, not sure how much more you can handle.
"I want you to watch me closely, okay, baby?" he instructs you, and you nod obediently. Doing as you're told, you see his smirk grow as he lifts his hand up in front of his face between you two.
He flexes his fingers, making a quick fist and then stretching his hand out again. A soft moan escapes you as he does so, your eyes tracing over his every movement. His fingers are shiny with your wetness, and watching the veins and muscles move on his hand makes you start to feel excited all over again.
But then he pulls his fingers into his mouth, taking the same three that had been inside you past his lips. He sucks on them slowly while not once taking his eyes away from yours, creating vulgar noises and eliciting similar noises from you as you watch the show he puts on.
After he's cleaned them, his fingers glide leisurely out of his mouth, and he rests his palm on the junction between your shoulder and neck as he licks his lips, still not breaking eye contact.
"Holy fucking fuck, Sam," you whimper, and he laughs fully and happily in his victory.
"That was perfect," he states, serious again. You heartily agree, showing him by pulling him in to kiss you one more time.
"And I am so totally going to use this against you, baby."
-
have you been converted or what?
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