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#john murphy smut
mystra-midnight · 6 months
Text
Two Tickets to Paradise
summary: you'd fought and given up, then started fighting again. the lighthouse, which had started as a paradise, was turning into hell, and it was breaking you—slowly tearing away your sanity.
warnings: 18+ only. on the darker side. mentions of alcohol consumption. rough sex. dacryphilia. hints of emotional distress. hints of angst and/or mental anguish.
words: here.
notes: honestly wrote this so surprisingly quickly. murphy's always been one of my favs from the show - the arrogance, the vulnerability, the character development? jesus it just does thinks for me. (i don't think i'd ever say no if you send in thots and imagines for him)
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The moment the lighthouse door slammed shut, you should have panicked, but you hadn't been able to find it in yourself to be afraid or even upset. After surviving a trek through a seemingly endless desert, then a boat ride across a seemingly endless ocean, a serpent attack, and a night out in the cold with an injured and angry delinquent, the lighthouse was a welcomed surprise—a perfect paradise.
Not even John—fucking—Murphy, with his toxic tongue and perfect eyes, could ruin your good mood. The two of you had never been particularly close, but you got along well enough that the shared space wasn't uncomfortable. For the first few days, you gave each other space, choosing to sit on opposite sides of the room and occupy yourselves.
Occasionally, the two of you would watch and rewatch the videotape that explained what caused the apocalypse on Earth. On the tenth day, you both drank yourselves stupid and spent hours sharing secrets, thoughts, and theories. You discovered you both had a mutual distrust of the adults who'd arrived on Earth and taken over as though they hadn't sent one hundred kids to their deaths until eventually passing out.
That became your routine for the next forty-five days. Or maybe it was fifty-four. You didn't know.
You tried to keep count, but the days had started to run together, turning into a blur of drunken moments that hurt to think about. You had screamed and cried. You had clawed at the doors until your nails bled. You'd fought and given up, then started fighting again. The lighthouse, which had started as a paradise, was turning into hell, and it was breaking you—slowly tearing away your sanity.
Murphy was in a similar predicament. Some days he screamed and raged around the room, breaking what he could. Other days, he sat completely still and stared ahead as though he no longer inhabited his own body. Eventually, you turned to each other for comfort and escape. That was how you'd found yourself bent over the arm of the sofa, his cock buried deep in your slick walls.
Murphy was wild and untamed, lost in a frenzy of emotions. His hand was fisted in your hair, pulling hard as he pounded you. The sound of his pelvis hitting your ass was obscene and loud, as were the moans and gasps forced from your lips. He was rough—rougher than you liked, but you still couldn't find it in yourself to care.
The pain and pleasure blended so beautifully together that it left you speechless and dazzled, only able to moan each time he pushed into the satin clutch of your cunt. Before this moment, you'd felt hopeless, utterly so, and at the end of your rope, your sanity had been stretched so thin and buried so deep in your being that you never thought you'd find it again.
Murphy found it.
And now the pain was starting to feel so good. It made you forget about the emptiness that had been eating away at you—the hopelessness, the desperation. You needed him. You needed him to stop your thoughts from racing and to fuck everything from your mind until all that remained was him, his cock, and the pleasure searing in your veins.
He happily obliged as he needed the distraction as much as you did.
Both of you needed to feel something—anything—instead of that all-consuming disparity. Luckily, the familiar warmth of orgasm was starting to course through your veins, leaving your skin sweat-slicked and your voice ragged as Murphy adjusted his angle, somehow driving his cock deeper into your sweet cunt, the tip of his cock hitting that spot that sent you suddenly careening.
“Murphy!” You sounded panicked, like you were breaking, and perhaps you were. He did it again, feeling your walls tighten around him. He was dripping with your slick; the wiry hair at the base of his shaft matted; your own equally as messy from where he pulled and yanked it. He was in a frenzy, chasing the climax snaking through his veins, relishing in the feeling of it coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of his stomach until he could hardly breathe, until all he felt was flames licking at his skin.
He was going to break you—maybe kill you—but you didn’t care because the same feelings were consuming you. It was glorious and all-consuming. You started to shake. Your thighs trembled so violently that only the arm of the couch kept you from collapsing.
He didn't notice—or maybe he did and he didn't care; either way, it didn't matter; you didn't mind.
He could use you; you'd let him. He could break you; you'd thank him.
But the moment his cock slipped from your slick walls, you couldn't forgive him. Tears stung in your eyes as you sobbed, the sound welling up from your chest only to be drowned under the sounds of his grunts and groans. Murphy snapped his hips forward, seemingly spurred onward by the tears that rolled down your cheeks in rivers, his pelvis meeting the reddened skin of your ass with a sinful slap, slap, slap.
The moment you needed and wanted with every beat of your heart faded away, your orgasm sleeping through your fingers like waters as you felt thick, ivory rops of come hit your lower back. Murphy tugged hard at your hair, sending pain blossoming through your scalp as he shadowed over you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
You wanted to be angry. You wanted to fight and rage, as you'd done many times already. But the feel of his other hand moving between your legs, his fingers gathering your slick and bringing it to your own lips to taste, melted such thoughts from your brain.
"Not yet," he hissed, pushing two fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own arousal spreading over your tongue. "Not until you're begging."
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pogueswrld · 1 year
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Could you please do “ I want you to feel good” with John Murphy? I love your imagines! 😍
this was deep in my asks and it's half-assed I'm so sorry
*•.¸♡ drunk ♡¸.•*
pairing: john murphy x fem!reader
summary: murphy is drunk on his lover, and he's not afraid to show her
warning: smut!!! 🦢 pussy drunk john giving reader head basically, and some praise ig
note: this is super super short I'm sorry :/
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“Fuck!”
y/n was sure that if John didn’t have his arms wrapped around her hips and thighs, she would have flown away by now.
His hold on her was tight, with his hands intertwined just above her belly button. His face was buried in her cunt, nose nudging at her clit and tongue lapping up her juices. He could almost swear he was in heaven. Every time he looked up at her and saw her face, her expression only amplified that belief.
He was far too good for her to remain silent, and he was unstoppable. Pulling one orgasm after the other from her like they were ribbons coming out of a magician’s hat. He had her squirming and whimpering, but he never let her go. He was drunk on her taste and feel, he never wanted to let her go.
“Johnny,” she whimpered, her fingers buried in his strands, tugging at his roots every time his tongue penetrated her and fucked her without rhythm. “I’m gonna cum again.” 
Her words were mere gasps, and it made a smug smirk pull at his lips. “Oh I know you are, angel. I can feel you.” She whined at his words, and the noise made his eyes roll to the back of his head.
There was something so pure about seeing the person you love more than anything enjoy themselves, but to know that you’re the one giving them pleasure? Murphy was certain he was going to cum in his pants.
With a brand new sense of need and desperation, Murphy put all his energy into pulling that one more orgasm from his lover. Using his fingers to stimulate her while overwhelming her clit into overdrive, y/n was squealing his name within minutes. She gushed and clenched around his fingers, and John pulled away just enough to see her. His pupils dilated and his mind was completely blown.
He looked up at her, watching the way her chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch her breath, then spread little kisses throughout her inner thighs. “You look so pretty, baby. I’m so proud of you, you did so well for me.”
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twirlywhirlywriting · 7 months
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What Would I Do Without You?
I finally did it!!! This was definitely a challenge for me as a writer. I am mostly used to female submissives so this was a huge change! I hope you all like it, I worked really hard on it! Here you go, my loves, submissive John Murphy!
Title: What Would I Do Without You?
TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut, Sub!Murphy x Dom!/Reader, Reader’s POV, Fem Reader, Use of Y/N, Cussing, Soft Dom, Mistress Kink, Obedience, Reassurance, Strip Tease, Kissing, Praise, Fingering, Oral (f receiving), P in V (unprotected), Orgasms, Soft Edging (literally one time), Handjob, Slight Mess, Aftercare, Mentions of Love
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The first thing that I need to point out before telling you anything, is that John Murphy is mine. He is the love of my life, he is my best friend, he is my baby. He’s my submissive, my fuck toy, my good boy, just mine. I know that when you look at us, we seem like any other “power couple” who are really just giant assholes who don’t care about anyone else but each other. But really, he’s just trying to give the people what they want, and well, I can’t help myself from being protective of him and his feelings. 
The only reason he is being so forceful in making everyone take off those stupid wristbands is because no one wants the fuckers who put us down here to follow us. We don’t deserve to be prisoners. We are lucky none of us are 18, otherwise we’d all be dead anyways. But they put us on this dropship without our permission. They are the ones who didn’t know if they were killing us or not. And now we have the entire Earth to ourselves. The last thing that any of us want is for those stupid assholes to follow us down and take control again, or worse, call us criminals again. We deserve this whole goddamn Earth to ourselves, we were the ones who were going to die for it if it turned out to be uninhabitable anyway. 
Most people understand this and are happy to take off the damn wristband-tracker-whatever the fuck they are. If everyone on the Ark thinks we died, they won’t follow us and we will finally be free. But Clarke and her stupid boy toy followers are making things way harder than they need to be. They’re being dicks to John, my John. I can’t stand it. 
“Stop it, Murphy! Everyone, you have to stop taking those off, the Ark has to know we’re alive!” Clarke screams at John over the fire. Maybe he is being a little bit intense, not letting anyone get dinner until they allow him to remove the wristband. But it’s for their own good! How can that bitch not see that? 
“No one wants the Ark to know we’re alive, Clarke. We want to be free. We deserve to be free.” He retorts, then turns to everyone, “Do you want to be the Ark's prisoners again? For doing nothing? For saving their asses and getting nothing in return?” He yells, and everyone around boos at Clarke; she and Wells look like they’re about to pop their top. 
She grabs a piece of meat anyways and starts eating, then glares at him. “No rules, right? Screw you, Murphy.” His eyes look like he’s ready to kill her, but I know that look. When he looks murderous, he’s really just sad, or scared, or something. Maybe angry too, maybe a bit murderous, but mostly sad. And that makes me fume. 
I hand my food to John and stand up. Yanking the food back from Clarke, I step right up to her and get in her face. “You know you can’t do that shit. Chaos is good, but you’re just being fucking stupid. He’s helping people, whether you realize it or not. You, Wells, and Finn can all just go on your merry fucking way and find your own food. We’ll get your wristbands later.” She looks like she’s about to throw a punch, but Finn stops her and pulls her away. I’m still fuming, who does she think she is? Finn is right, she is a fucking princess. Wells and Clarke think they get to decide all the rules just because his Daddy and her Mommy are in charge up there. Well, they’re fucking wrong. 
As I sit back down, John gives me back my food. We are both still so pissed off at the whole situation, and not just because of right now. Clarke and those stupid boys are always getting in John’s way. They truly think they can lead us! While I sit here thinking about how fucked up it is, John grabs my hand and brings it up to his lips, planting the softest kiss. I know he’s trying to calm me down, even though he’s just as mad as I am. He’s so fucking sweet. He could be ready to kill someone and when he looks at me or touches me, it is always so soft and loving. He treats me like a queen no matter how he feels. 
I smile at him and when I catch his eyes, I can tell he needs a break. He is trying so hard to keep his cool in front of everyone, but I can tell the frustration of the day and that encounter is getting to him. I quickly shove the last bite of food into my mouth and lead him to our tent with his hand in mine. I’m going to take all of his thoughts and make them melt away, I know just what to do.
The second we get inside, he asks, “Am I doing something wrong?” and I shake my head and smile at him, staring into his gorgeous blue eyes. You may think he likes to take charge with the way he acts around other people, but you’d have it all wrong. He needs the release of not having to make choices. To listen to someone else for a change, have someone else be responsible for him when no one is watching.
“No baby boy, nothing wrong at all. You’re perfect.” I kiss him on the lips, then kiss both of his cheeks, and when I look into his eyes again, I can’t take it. He’s just so hot, standing there and waiting to react to my every move. I kiss him again, harder this time, moving my hands up under his shirt a little to glide my hands along his stomach and chest. He grabs me by my waist and kisses me back deeply, stifling a small moan. I know he wants me. I grin and look up to him, putting my hand on his cheek softly. “What does my good boy want, hm?” 
He bites his lip and looks into my eyes, knowing just the right words to say. “I want to make you feel good, Mistress. I just want to feel you all over me. I want to feel you on my hands, my lips, my tongue, I want to please you with every part of me.” It’s hard for me to keep my composure when he says such yummy words.
“And you can have me. But not yet. Sit on the bed, for now you only get to watch.” He immediately obeys, sitting on the bed with his eyes glued to me. I slowly take off my shirt, much slower than normal, feeling his eyes look over every inch of my stomach, my ribs, my tits, my collarbone and neck, and finally my face again. With my pants, it’s the same thing. I turn around this time though, giving him a full view as I bend over and let him watch every part of my ass and legs become exposed. I peel my underwear off too, giving him just a quick peek of my pussy before standing up and turning around again. 
Instead of letting him touch me like he asked for, I smirk at him, trailing my hands up my stomach and start squeezing my tits, then trailing my fingertips around my nipples until they get hard. I love watching him practically drool, watching his pants get tight, his hands grabbing onto the sheets to stop himself from leaping up and grabbing me.  
I move a hand down my stomach, across my hips, parting my legs just enough to let my hand slip between them. I keep one hand squeezing my tit and sometimes pinching my nipple, letting the other hand glide along my slit, then I start to slowly rub my clit. I lean my head back and moan, wondering just how much this is killing him and enticing him to watch. After maybe a minute or so, I pull my hand back up, stare straight into his eyes, and lick the wetness off of my fingers. His face flushes, and I ask him, “What is it? Do you want a taste too?” 
He stumbles over his words as though he couldn’t get them out fast enough, “Yes, Mistress, please let me taste you.” It makes me feel so warm inside when he says these things. Of course, I’ll give him what he wants. I walk towards him, put a foot up onto the bed to give him a better view, and slide a single finger inside of myself. When I pull it out, it’s glistening. It’s fucking teasing me to do this too, but I love seeing how much he wants me. 
“Open.” I demand as I put my finger up to his lips, and he does so immediately. I slide my finger in his mouth, and he is happy to suck my finger clean. “Good boy, you are so patient. You get to touch me now.” I lay down onto the bed, “Whatever you want to do to start with, baby, you earned it.” 
He climbs on top of me, kissing my neck oh so gently, it almost tickles. He works his way down to my chest, and as he does so, his kisses become more erratic and have more pressure. He gets to my tits, and uses his tongue to circle my nipple, using a hand to follow suit on my other nipple. I close my eyes to fully enjoy the sensations, combing my fingers through his hair as he does this.
After a little bit of this, I feel my wetness and the tingle of desire a bit too intensely. “Okay, I need you on my pussy, right now.” The end of my sentence is almost a growl, I didn’t realize how fucking wet I was until it hit me like a brick wall and I couldn’t wait a single second longer. 
“Yes Mistress, of course.” He scoots back on the bed, wetting two of his fingers using my own juices, sliding one in and pumping a few times before adding the second. He starts kissing my clit, just warming me up as he continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out, just barely curling his fingers up at the last second of every thrust, only a whisper of a touch to my g-spot. Even with how soft he’s being, my breathing quickens. He’s not one to need too much direction on exactly how to please a woman. He doesn’t start off too fast, and he definitely knows where all the good spots are. Whether he’s naturally gifted, or if he’s practiced, I’ve never cared to ask. He’s all fucking mine and that’s the only thing that matters to me. 
“You’re doing so good, baby, you’re such a good boy for me, that’s just right.” I coo at him, making sure every second that he knows just how good he’s making me feel. 
His kisses on my clit slowly turn into kisses with tongue, and that turns into pressing his tongue into me with the tiniest of suction of his lips, letting go with a tiny pop every time. As his kisses change into this, his fingers start working faster, and the second he feels my g-spot swell, he starts fully curving them into that wonderful “come here” motion as he pumps them in and out of me. His tongue gets faster as well, consistent stimulation with suction every few seconds, it’s perfect. I grip the sheets with one hand and his hair in another, unable to control how loud or often I’m moaning. I can barely talk anymore, but I mumble out a “Good boy, just like that!” 
It only takes a couple of minutes before my orgasm comes to the brink, my legs shaking and the world around me practically spinning as I hit my peak. When it calms down, I grip his hair tighter and pull him up to me in a sloppy kiss, both of us breathing heavily. “Am I making you feel good, Mistress? That was good?” He asks me, and my heart melts. He is probably the only guy in the world to make a girl cum that hard and not be full of himself about it. He wants reassurance that he’s doing things just how I like them. Fuck, I love him. He is going to be mine forever, I swear to God. 
“Yes, you are doing so good, baby boy. I’m going to keep you mine forever. Understand?” I look into his eyes so that he knows that isn’t just pillow talk, that he really is mine. Forever. 
He nods with more enthusiasm than I’ve ever seen, and responds with the same seriousness in his voice that I had in mine. “Yes Mistress, I’m all yours, forever. You own me.” 
I give him one more kiss before switching our positions so that I’m on top of him now. “I need you to be inside me now.” I say as I slowly ease myself onto him, groaning as I feel the fullness inside of me. “It’s my turn to watch as you feel good, baby.” I say soothingly, before adding sternly, “now don’t you dare look away. I want to look into your eyes the whole time I’m making you feel good.”
He bites his lip and nods, almost immediately moaning as I start riding him, slowly at first, moving my hips up and down, then back and forth, then a mixture of them all, in a circle. I love watching the sweat slowly build in his hair, watching the muscles on his chest and abs clench as I make him feel so good. I place my hand on his chest to give me better leverage to go faster, faster, and stop right as I see he is starting to get closer to his orgasm. 
Disappointment flickers in his eyes, but only for a moment, he knows I’m never going to fully deny him. He’s too beautiful and perfect to truly be mean. I lean down to give him a kiss, before whispering into his ear. “Now, you’re going to make me cum again. I’m going to stay still, and you are going to fuck me like this, exactly how I tell you to.” 
“Yes Mistress, I want to make you cum on me. Please tell me what you want.” He begs and I groan quietly, he’s too fucking good. 
I straighten back up and tell him to start off slow, which he does. He keeps his hands on my waist to help him gain leverage, and I trail my fingers along his chest and tell him constantly how good he’s doing, how much he’s pleasing me. I tell him to go faster, then to slow down, then to go deeper and harder, then faster, then slow again. He follows along with my words perfectly. I like to work myself up to the edge, not too fast, I want to enjoy every moment of this. But when I notice he is getting a little tired, I tell him to speed up and fuck me as hard as he can. 
My nails dig into his chest as I cum, my head falling back as I moan and my legs squeeze against his sides, making it harder for him to continue fucking me but he pushes through. When I look back down at him I smile at his flushed face, “Stop, baby. You can stop. You are such a perfect fuck toy. Now it’s finally your turn.” 
I start riding him again, keeping up with the quick pace and making sure I’m going all the way down, pushing all of him inside me with every hip thrust. I love watching him pant and whimper as he gets close to the edge. “Mistress, please, I-I-I’m close!” he says with urgency, and I get off of him and immediately jerk him off, keeping the pace as I watch him cum all over himself, biting my lip as I watch.
“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby.” I tease, making him blush a little bit but he knows I’m not mad. I just love watching him make a mess everywhere, especially on himself. I quickly grab a rag and clean him up, first wiping the sweat off his brow and then cleaning up his chest. 
I lay down next to him, propping myself up on my elbow. I kiss him all over his face, a million times practically, whispering in a soothing voice “You are such a good boy,” and “You did such a wonderful job,” and “It’s all over now baby, I love you so much.” and “I’ll be right here to care for you, always.” in between the kisses being peppered all over his face. He snuggles into me, and I am happy to hold him, regulating my own breathing in order to help him regulate his. 
I stroke his hair, humming softly in a soothing lullaby I forgot the words to a long time ago, every once in a while kissing the top of his head. After a while, he looks up at me and asks, “Did you really mean it, that I’m yours forever? Because.. I want to be. I always want to be yours, Y/N. Always.”
I smile back at him, my heart melting all over again. “Whatever would I do without you, John? I love you.” 
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fanfics4all · 7 months
Text
Wax Play
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Request: Yes / No Kinktober day 7!
Requests are closed  <3 Have a nice day/night
John Murphy x Fem!Reader 
Word count: 1926
Warnings: SMUT!
Y/N: Your Name 
Prompt(s): Wax Play
PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 
If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 
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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)
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“Baby?” I hesitantly asked. 
“Are you here?” I added as I made my way into the apartment. I quickly became disappointed when there was no answer. He didn’t come… I sighed and thought about going to get a bottle of wine. I tossed my keys to the side and went to go turn on the lights. A hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging hard until I lost my balance. I fell into a warm solid body. A moment later a I was moving again, disoriented in the dark, until I felt my back touch the wall and the body pressed tightly into me. My hands were trapped behind me, both of them being held by one fist. The person’s head dropped down and sharp teeth nipped at my earlobe. 
“Hello, Kitten.” His voice whispered. 
“Hey, baby…” I breathed out. He stilled and pushed into me a bit harder. 
“What was that?” He asked, an edge to his tone. 
“Hello, Sir.” I corrected myself. 
“That better, Kitten.” He said. His mouth trailed down from my ear to my neck, placing soft kisses against my skin. I tilted my head to the side to give him better access and sighed happily. I hardly noticed when he brought my hands to my front. I did notice when he locked some cuffs around my wrists, a short chain between them which meant I could still move, but not much. 
“I love that you said to put the coat hooks here, so helpful for hanging up our jackets and… other things.” He smirked. He lifted my arms above my head and hooked them just over my head, my elbows bent and dangling on either side of my temples. He then kissed me, his mouth slicked over mine, tongue invading as his hands got to work on the buttons of my shirt. He slid his hands around my ribs. They travelled up to cup my breasts, thumb flicking over my nipples through my bra. There were little electrical pulses being sent through my body. I was frustrated that I couldn’t touch him too, so I nipped at the tip of his tongue. He jerked back and grined down at me evilly. 
“Are you sure you want to go down that road, Kitten?” He asked. ‘Sorry Sir’ drifted through my mind for a moment, but instead I raised an eyebrow at him and tugged on my restraints. His grin widened. 
“You want it that bad, Kitten? Too bad. We’re going at my pace, and I want to inspect what’s mine.” He paused and looked me up and down. 
“Speaking of inspections, were you a good girl?” He asked. 
“Yes, Sir.” I answered. 
“Let’s see, shall we?” He asked. He stepped back a bit and then his hands on my hips turned me around. It was awkward with my hands locked above me, but I managed. He reached around and popped open the button of my jeans. He tugged the zipper down incredibly slow. He ran his fingers beneath the gap between my waistband and my skin before slipping my jeans over my hips. He helped me out of them, but left my heels on. His hands ran back up my legs to my ass. I wasn’t wearing underwear, just as he instructed me this morning. 
“Hmmm…” He hummed. His hands kneaded and squeezed my ass. 
“Oh good girl, Kitten.” He said. His fingers wiggled the jewlled plug I put in, just as he asked this morning. 
“How has it felt wearing this all day, knowing no one else knew about it, but me, hmm, Kitten?” He teased. 
“G-Good, Sir.” I answered. 
“Did it make you wet?” He asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. He slid his fingers forward until they could feel just how soaked I was. 
“Fuck, Kitten.” He moaned slightly. I mewed and arched my back, hoping he might slide his fingers inside and ease the ache. My clit was pulsing and twitching, but he didn’t touch either. He went back to the plug, fingers grasping it lightly. 
“You like feeling this inside you?” He asked. 
“Yes, Sir. But-” 
“But what?” He cut me off. 
“But I-I would like it out now please, Sir?” I asked. 
“Would you?” He asked, starting to pull, slowly increasing the pressure. I winced and widened my stance, using my muscles to help him until it slid free. I hissed, feeling my asshole contract, throbbing slightly. At least it was out now… My relief was short lived. 
“No Kitten, I don’t think so, not yet.” He said. The metal plug was hot from my body when it nudged at my asshole again. I umpleasently moaned and went to step away, but I couldn’t go anywhere. A sharp slap on my ass stopped me in my tracks. 
“Stay still!” He ordered. I grit my teeth, but held still as he pressed forward until the plug slid inside once again. He then eased it out again, and in, and out, and in… I whined in protest, but it hardly hurt anymore. 
“Let’s just leave this in for right now, shall we Kitten?” He asked with a smirk. He pressed on the plug one last time, my ass accepted it easily. 
“Come on, then.” He reached up and unhooked me. He lowered my arms until they rested in front of me, still locked together. I’d only been hooked up for a few minutes, but my shoulders and upper arms were feeling sore. He curled a finger around the chain and turned me around, tugging me forward. I followed him clumsily as he flicked on the light in our room. I blinked, trying to adjust to the light. There were restraints casually resting along the bed, a wand, and a blindfold. 
I tried not to smile, but this was amazing. He led me to the bed and took a moment to uncoff on hand so he could take off my shirt and bra. He pushed my hands back above my head and used one of the restraints to secure them to the headboard. Restraints went around both my ankles and tied them to the bottom of the bed. My legs were spread wide open and he had full access. He picked up the blindfold and covered my eyes. 
“Green?” He asked. 
“Green, Sir.” I whispered back. He secured the blindfold against my head. I felt a firm hand on the inside of my thigh before it was replaced with a cool hardness of the wand. It dug into me slightly as John tied it to my thigh with another restraint. He adjusted it, making sure it was tight up against my clit, then started it. 
I flexed at the low buzz, but he barely turned it on. It was more of a tickling sensation, nothing that would get me off. I pouted, but kept my complaints to myself. A warm hand started roaming over my body, up the inside of my legs, down the curve of my waist, and around the curve of my breasts. A hand found it’s way around my throat, squeezing once gently before coming up to cup my cheek. He roughly kissed my lips and it took my breath away. He pulled back and I longed for his hand to be back on my neck. I wondered where he was going to touch me next. 
Instead he turned the wand up a few levels. My breath hitched from the abrupt change. My thighs flexed, wanted to close, but I couldn’t. A cold touch ran upp the arch of my foot. I jerked my foot, but couldn’t move it much. Another touch, but this time along the inside of my upper arm. It was cold and wet. Ice… 
I wasn’t sure if I enjoyed it or not. It made my muscles twitch and jerk, and with the wand turned up almost as high as it would go, my body was ridgid. I wanted to cum so bad. 
“Don’t you dare, Kitten. Not without permission.” He said. 
“Can I cum, Sir?” I asked instently. 
“No.” He answered just as fast. 
I gave a frustrated groan, pulling at my restraints. I pictured him holding the ice cube as he glided it over my warm skin. I was panting, trying to guess where he would glide it next. I cried out when he circled my nipple instead of running it up my inner thigh. 
“Please can I cum, Sir?” I begged. 
“No.” He answered. 
“Please?” I begged more. He didn’t answer, just turned the vibrator up higher. 
I yelped and arched my back, pressing my head into the softness of the sheets. Ice ran down my left sife, along my upper arm. It moved across my collar bones down my forehead, and along the bridge of my nose. The streaks of cold were bringing goosebumps all over my body. 
Suddenly there was a soft drop onto my stomach. I though it was a drop of water from the ice cube, until my brain registered the scorching heat. Candle wax… I gasped and my stomach muscles tensed, but I was almost immediately distracted by the ice going down my left cheek. Another burn met my left breast and the ice traveled up to the center of my palm. Heat scorched my pubic mound and chills ran up my right foot. A drop of burning wax found it’s way to the inside of my knee. The want was demanding my attention each time I tensted. 
“Please! Please, please, please, Sir, please can I cum, please?” I begged. 
“Cum.” He ordered me as three drops of hot wax met my skin. One on my hip, my stomach, and directly on my nipple. I screamed as an oragsm ripped through me at the same time the hot pain radiated across my skin. He stopped the wand and pulled it away along with my other restraints. He pushed himself between my lets and pressed the ice cube to my clit. He was holding it there as he thrusted in and out. I was incredibly sensitive from cumming and fought against him. He held me still as he pressed the ice cube harder against me. 
I throbbed at the cold ache mixed with the pleasure of his cock dragging over my g-spot. My arms were still trapped above my head. I could do nothing but take it. My clit pulsed in overstimulation, but unable to escape the ice. My eyes widened under the blindfold as I realized I was going to cum again. 
“Cumming!” I gasped, unable to form a full sentence. John let go of my leg and ripped the blindfold off of me, still holding the ice cube in place. 
“Cum.” He ordered and kissed me. John groaned into my mouth and I felt him filling me up. 
“Oh fuck!” He groaned as he pulled back. John drop on me and I felt grounded by his weight. After a moment he got off me and letme out of the cuffs. He pulled me into his chest and pealed off the bits of dried wax. 
“You alright, Y/N?” He asked. 
“Mmhmm.” I hummed. 
“We’ll get up and shower in a minute, okay?” He asked. 
“Mmm.” I hummed. 
“Words baby, yes? No?” He asked. 
“Mmm.” I hummed again, I couldn’t really do much. 
“I take it you like it then? Since I’ve rendered you speechless?” He asked. I nodded as I was half asleep. John kissed my head and held me close. 
“Just relax a bit then we’ll shower.” He whispered and I nodded.
Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @emo-godess-loves-you @now-imagine @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @vanessa-kom-skaikru @jjmymaybank
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lyswxlf · 6 months
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Lexa and Everest <3
Cute little promo pic (from AI cus I can’t draw for shit) for my fanfic “Flawless” on my Wattpad acc xx
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darnell-la · 11 months
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Hello!! Could you guys send in some request and help us out because we have no idea what to post and we’d like to make new stories instead of posting our old ones.
We’re fine with writing dark, innocent, insecure, lovey, bully, toxic, mean and anything else you guys suggest. <3
The people we mostly write about are Rafe Cameron, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, JJ Maybank, Colby Brock, Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Bellamy Blake, John Murphy (forgot his last name) etc.
If you guys are into non-con writing, message us or send a request and we’ll see what we can do. We will put the correct tags down so we won’t trigger people.
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John Murphy Masterlist
none yet!
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 8 months
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pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake
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masterlist
summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?
warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging
note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.
word count: 16.7k
“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”
You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.
“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”
A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.
Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.
He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.
What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.
“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.
Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.
“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”
Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”
You smiled, humming in agreement.
“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”
You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.
“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.
In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”
However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.
“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”
Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.
And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.
You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”
His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.
Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.
He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.
“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.
It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.
He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.
You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.
Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.
His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.
He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.
Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.
“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.
Now he knew.
Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.
After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.
You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.
“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”
His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.
“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.
“Who said I was?”
“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”
You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.
The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.
“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”
Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.
“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.
“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”
He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.
You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.
He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”
Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.
Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”
He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.
**********
It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.
There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.
Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.
Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”
With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.
He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.
“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.
“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”
There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.
They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.
You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.
Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.
“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.
You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.
His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”
And so, you did.
Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.
All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.
An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.
“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”
They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.
You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your­–”
He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”
That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.
Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”
“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.
Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.
“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.
Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?
Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.
Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”
She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.
You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.
“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”
His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.
The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.
“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.
“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.
Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.
Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.
He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”
The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.
As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.
Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.
His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.
The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…
“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.
Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.
You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.
“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.
Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”
“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.
**********
The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.
Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.
Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–
A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.
Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.
To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.
You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Something on your mind?”
He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.
More like ‘someone’, you thought.
“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”
Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.
His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”
Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.
“Bellamy,” you warned.
He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh oh.”
The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.
Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.
“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”
“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.
He nodded.
Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”
As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.
Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.
The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.
“Without…?” you coaxed him on.
You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.
That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.
God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.
By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.
He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”
Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.
“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.
Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.
Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.
“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.
“Um, winning?”
He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you; I can last a little longer.”
You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.
“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”
He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.
His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.
You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.
Something was missing.
You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.
“Ow!”
Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.
Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”
“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.
It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.
“Some bug.”
That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.
Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.
The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.
“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.
As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.
“Swarm.”
“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.
You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.
Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.
“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.
Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.
After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.
You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.
“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.
Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.
“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.
He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”
Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.
Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.
“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”
Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.
“Clarke, wait!”
“Get back here!”
To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?
You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.
“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”
Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.
Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.
“It’s down! Come on!”
Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.
No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.
Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”
Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.
He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.
“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.
**********
Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.
The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.
You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.
Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.
Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”
Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.
If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.
Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?
“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.
It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.
You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.
“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”
“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted
You raised your hands in faux fear.
Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”
Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.
You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.
“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”
He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.
“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”
He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.
Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.
You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”
It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.
You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.
(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)
However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.
While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.
You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.
As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.
At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.
Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?
After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.
Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.
The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.
And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.
He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.
Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.
Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.
You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.
Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.
That son of a bitch.
Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.
Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.
“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.
Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.
Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling—yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.
You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.
Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.
Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.
He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…
So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.
Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.
Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position. 
Bellamy.
“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.
He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.
The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”
Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I–I–”
He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.
You moved onto your knees as he got closer.
Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”
His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.
For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.
When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.
You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”
He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”
The game. You had almost forgotten.
Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.
“Don’t think that will work, princess.”
You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.
He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.
“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.
Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.
Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”
“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”
I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.
He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.
“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”
Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.
“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”
Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”
He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”
You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”
Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.
To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.
In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.
You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.
His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.
Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.
He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.
You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.
Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.
You wiggled against him, but it was futile.
“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”
He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.
“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.
“Just touch me,” you pleaded.
A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.
Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.
Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.
His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.
He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.
All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.
And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.
Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.
It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.
Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.
He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”
His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.
“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”
He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.
Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.
His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.
“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.
Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.
Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.
It all happened so fast.
“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.
Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.
Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.
You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground
Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.
You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.
He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.
His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.
He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.
If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.
“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.
His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”
You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.
“You still lost, remember?” he added.
As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”
His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.
“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.
Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.
He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”
His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”
“A man would take these chains off me.”
“You think taunting me will get me to break?”
Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.
Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.
You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.
And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.
You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.
Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.
His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.
He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.
Come on. Come on, you thought.
“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”
That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.
Weak point four—check.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.
And five. Check yes Juliet.
Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.
Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.
Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.
He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.
You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.
His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.
Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.
He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.
Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.
You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.
A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.
He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…
No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.
His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.
He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.
Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.
Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.
That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.
He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.
And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.
“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.
His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.
The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.
You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”
A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.
Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.
It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.
Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.
Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.
He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.
You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.
And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.
“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.
Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.
A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.
The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.
His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.
Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.
He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.
“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”
You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.
Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”
His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.
Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.
Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.
“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”
You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.
He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.
Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.
You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.
In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”
He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.
Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.
Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.
“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.
His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”
“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”
He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.
His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”
You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.
It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.
“Lean back,” he said, and you did.
Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.
“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.
You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.
He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.
He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.
Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.
His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.
The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.
You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.
His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.
Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.
His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.
You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.
“Bell, I’m gonna–”
“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”
Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.
He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.
The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.
Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.
His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.
Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.
You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.
Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.
The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.
“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.
You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”
“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”
You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–
“Oh, come on!”
You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.
Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”
“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”
His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.
“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”
“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.
“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”
You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”
Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.
It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.
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narcissisticmf · 8 months
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persistence | bellamy blake x gn!reader
description: training with bellamy.
trigger warnings: some seductive behavior, gun usage, fluff, etc. read at your own risk.
word count: <1k
Holding the shot gun close against your right shoulder, you aimed it towards the wooden target outside. You'd been the only one training that afternoon, everyone else was at lunch. You closed your left eye and tried your best to hit the center of the target. You pulled the trigger and missed it, the bullet drove through the wood several inches away from the center.
You released a grunt and tossed the gun against the grass and dirt, frustratedly. You kicked a rock that was by your feet as you clenched your jaw. Placing your hands against your hips, you stood still for a moment, staring at the target for a while; as if it would give you the answer as to how to shoot the center of it.
"It's really not that complicated," Bellamy's voice was heard from behind you.
You parted your lips and released a soft breath, uninterested in his instruction. "I almost had it," You avoided eye contact and reached down to lift up the shot gun, holding it tightly against your shoulder again.
Bellamy stood behind you, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you for a moment. His eyes squinted subtly due to the brightness of the sun.
You pulled the trigger and missed by a hair again. You sighed, quietly.
"Hold it up again," Bellamy instructed, walking towards you.
"I don't need your help," You replied, looking back to him.
"Just hold it," He said, not phased by your attitude. You looked ahead at the target and held up the gun again. Bellamy's hands slowly moved around to your arms to fix their position. You could feel his breath fanning against your neck. The closeness caused a lump to develop in your throat, unable to speak.
"Yeah.." Bellamy cleared his throat and stepped back, awkwardly. "Like that," He nodded.
You felt your grip against the gun loosen from the sweat that produced in the palms of your hands. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself back into focus and closed your left eye again. Bellamy stood at your side and watched as you pulled the trigger.
The bullet swiftly moved through the red painted dot against the wood carved into a circle. You smiled widely as you stared at the hole in the middle of the target.
"I did it!" You laughed, almost baffled that you were capable of doing it. You turned to see Bellamy and he was smiling at you. That was something he didn't always do often, but when he did it was beautiful.
"I told you it wasn't that complicated," He smiled. "It's all in how you hold it."
"Thanks, Bellamy," You grinned.
He simply nodded with a smile to his lips.
.
a/n: hi, darlings!! so i just started watching the 100 and it's honestly so good! i hope that i captured bellamy's character well here and if i didn't, i'm sorry 😭 i'm still learning his character! love you guys mwah! — angelina
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shelbystales · 8 months
Text
Stay - One Shot
Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist
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Word count: 4532
Requested by: @morrigan-crowmwell
Summary: Tommy realizes that despite him trying to avoid it, he loves and needs you.
Warning: angst, fluff and rough smut with dirty talk?
A/N: This was inspired by a brazilian song called "evidências", as requesteted. I hope you like it😘 .
English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes
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He entered forcefully, pushing the door of your room open like a hurricane.
"Stop it," he ordered, pointing his finger at you.
You glanced at him, but your hands kept busy, packing your bags, shoving clothes into a bag that was clearly struggling to fit even half your dresses.
"I told you to stop," he said, approaching you and closing shut the door of your small wardrobe.
"Make me," you said irritably, trying to force the door open, but his hand on top of it prevented the process.
You rolled your eyes and carried on, your determined hands struggling with the stubborn zipper. You tried to wrestle the wardrobe open once again, a frown deepening on your face, but just as before, his hand on it prevented your success.
You sighed loudly, grabbing your bag from the bed and headed toward the door, ready to leave the scene.
He grabs your wrist firmly, preventing you from reaching the door, stopping you from leaving.
"Let me go!" you shout and struggle against his grip, but he doesn't let go of your wrist. His gaze seemed disturbed like he was out of himself. "Are you drunk?" you ask, pulling your hand, hating the fact that he's stronger than you.
"Why are you doing this?" he asks, and you clearly notice the knot in his throat.
"Tommy, you're hurting me," you say as the strength of his grip on your wrist becomes stronger.
"You can't do this. You can’t leave me" he says.
"Why do you care?" you ask angrily, pulling your wrist as you feel he loosened his grip on it and took a step back.
His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of frustration and desperation. He runs his fingers through his hair, a sign of his internal struggle.
“Tommy, what the fuck? You can't just barge in like this and do this” you said angrily
he swallowed harshly and looked around the room, the same room he had been with you many many nights before. The same room where he sleep nestled against your neck, smelling your scent to prevent his fucking nightmares. The same room he told you he couldn’t be with you, that he didn't want to be with you. The same room he broke your fucking heart. 
“It’s not fair,” you added, letting go of your bag to fall loudly to the floor. 
“Fair?” he chuckled “life isn’t fair” he said frustrated. 
His response only fueled your anger.
It felt like he was dismissing your feelings, brushing them aside with his cynicism. You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him with a mixture of irritation and hurt.
"Life isn't fair? Is that all you have?" you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Tommy clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides. His eyes held a storm of conflicting emotions – regret, anger, and an undeniable pain that seemed to cut through his tough exterior.
"It's not like that, ey" he said, his voice strained. "I never wanted any of this to happen."
"Oh, so it's not your fault then?" you retorted, your tone dripping with bitterness “you stood right there” you pointed at one side of the room “and you told me you couldn’t fucking love me anymore! Like, what the fuck! Poor misunderstood Tommy Shelby… you wanted me to beg? to do what?! To run after you like a fucking dog. To beg for your love. Was that it? Tell me, what did you want?”, you couldn't restrain the anger in your voice
He winced, as if your words were a physical blow. You could see the pain in his eyes, a flicker of regret that he was desperately trying to hide. But it was too late for that – the dam had broken, and the flood of pent-up emotions was pouring out
“That’s because I love you” he said, making you laugh in disbelief 
“Fuck you!” you barked at him
“When I said i didn’t want you anymore, thats because I still fucking do” he spat out.
“What? Are you bloody high?” you shook your head 
He seemed to search inside for the right words. It was clear he was struggling.
“I can't let you leave” he stated
“Its not up to you” you answered coldly
“I will blow every road out of this damn city if I have to, drown every boat. But you are not leaving, eh” he warned, his finger raised, pointing at you as a warning sign
“I hate you so much right now” you whispered, your words seeming to have an effect on him. He breathed deeply and looked at the ceiling of your room
"Look, I know I messed up," he admitted, his voice quieter now.
"You damn right you did," you said, your anger still burning hot.
His frustration crackled in the air like an electric current. Everything was spiraling out of control, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. He watched as you challenged him, your voice a mix of irritation and hurt. It was a pain he was intimately familiar with, one he had tried to distance himself from.
He knew he was the architect of his own misery. The moment he let himself care, truly care for you, he had opened the door to chaos. His heart, so carefully guarded, now laid exposed and vulnerable.
He took a step closer to you, his gaze intense, burning with a mixture of what you assumed to be anger and fear.
His heart raced in his chest, each beat a reminder of what he stood to lose. He wanted to grab you, to shake some sense into you, to break down the walls he had built between you.
But his hand remained at his side, clenched into a fist. He could feel the heat of his anger pulsating through him, but it was masked by an even greater terror - the terror of losing you.
"You think I wanted this?" he finally spat out, his voice raw. "You think I wanted to hurt you?"
You didn't answer, your eyes locked onto his, a mixture of defiance and something deeper.
He ran a hand through his hair, the usually impeccable locks now disheveled, mirroring the chaos inside him. Every step he took seemed to carry the weight of his uncertainty, his fear of losing something he hadn't realized he'd grown so dependent on.
"This is bloody ridiculous. I can't do this, alright? I can't bloody bear the thought of you walking away," he muttered to himself, his voice taut with frustration.
His gaze flickered to the door, as if half-expecting you to disappear beyond it any second. The very idea seemed to send a jolt of panic through him.
"You drive me mad!" he said, his voice rising in agitation.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breathing uneven as his gaze darted around the room, searching for some form of escape from the vulnerability clawing at him.
"I've denied it, tried to pretend I didn't need you, that I could bloody well do without you," he admitted, "but I need you," he practically spat out, the words almost foreign on his tongue. "More than I care to fucking admit. You're under me skin, in me bloody bones, and I'm terrified of what that means. I’ve tried but I can't fool me heart, I can't keep lying to meself” 
His voice cracked, the dam of his emotions threatening to break completely.
The room felt stifling, a cage that held him captive with his own fears. Tears welled up in your eyes, the battle between your anger and your love for him raging within you. You took a shaky breath, your own vulnerability exposed.
"You can't leave," he said, his voice low but laced with a desperation that belied his usual composure. "I won't let you. I can't." His admission hung in the air, raw and unfiltered.
Tommy's agitation reached a fever pitch, his body tense, his eyes wide with a mix of anger, fear, and something deeper that he struggled to name.
He couldn't let you go – not now, not ever. The very idea of you slipping through his fingers was enough to shatter his carefully constructed world.
You stared back at him, the weight of his words sinking in.
A mixture of anger and hurt still lingered within you, the wounds of his past actions still fresh. But now, in this charged moment, you could see that he was baring his soul to you.
You didn’t know what to do, what to say. part of you wanted to shout at him, to slap him to push him to the floor and kick his guts… but at the same time, part of you wanted to run to his arms, to kiss him, hold him strongly… truthfully, Your heart ached as you watched him struggle
You stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His eyes followed your movement, a mix of anticipation and apprehension in his gaze.
Your hand reached out, your fingers gently uncurling his clenched fist, the gesture a silent reassurance.
"I can't lose you," he choked out, his voice a mere whisper, his eyes searching yours for some form of understanding.
"I don't want to leave," you admitted softly, your voice breaking “but… you can't just come in here and say all of that after causing me so much pain. The past won't just disappear, Tommy. You can't just expect me to forget everything and come running back."
He shook his head, his hand shifting to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your skin. "I'm not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle but urgent. "I'm asking for a chance. A chance to make things right, eh? to show you how much you mean to me. I know I fucked up. But I need you, I need your lips on mine." His thumb gently brushed over your bottom lip. "I’ll give you my life, you can do whatever you want with it. I just want to hear you say yes, that you'll give me a chance to fix it. To fix us."
You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, torn between the memories of pain and the yearning for something more.
His thumb brushed away a tear that had escaped your eye, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"Tommy… I…," you whispered, losing your words. 
His gaze bore into yours, his thumb now tracing a path from your cheek to your lips, a feather-light touch that ignited a spark within you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of sincerity and vulnerability, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he often presented to the world.
"Say you'll give us a chance," he murmured, his words hanging in the air like a fragile plea.
His hands still cupped your face, his touch warm against your skin. His eyes danced between your lips and your eyes, a silent request for permission.
Your heart hammered in your chest, the battle between your head and your heart reaching its peak.
His touch, his words, they were like a balm to your wounded soul. And in that moment, you found yourself leaning in, your lips just a breath away from his.
"Tommy," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I want to believe you."
His eyes held yours, a mixture of relief and longing in his gaze. Slowly, almost hesitantly, his lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss.
The kiss was short and when his eyes locked on yours again. his hand cradled your cheek, his thumb tracing light patterns on your skin as if he didn't want to let go.
You took a deep breath, embracing your own vulnerability. "Tommy, I…I can't go through the same pain again. I won’t forgive you again"
“You won’t need to” he reaffirmed, his voice unwavering. His thumb kept brushing your cheek.
You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of apprehension and hope you gave him a small smile, trying to give him some comfort. As response, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace, His heartbeat thudded against you. 
It was like a weight lifted off both your shoulders, replaced by a warm sense of security. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest.
His fingers played with your hair, his touch gentle and soothing.
There, in his arms, you allowed yourself to believe in the possibility of healing.
He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and breathed deeply your scent, a scent that soothed him as a reminder of home.
“I love you” he whispered in your ears
“Fuck… I love you too” you said holding stronger onto him.
He pulled even estronger, his arms pressed strongly against you as if he was afraid you would slip away
As his arms held you close, his aftershave and Cologne mixture scent mingled with the warmth of his skin, enveloping your senses in a heady combination. Your fingers traced the contours of his chest, feeling the texture of his skin under your touch.
His fingers, which had been tracing patterns on your back, now ventured lower, roaming over your ass, his touch light and teasing.
His lips brushed against your forehead, a soft and lingering kiss that held a promise of more.
Your breath hitched as his fingers trailed along your spine, sending a trail of tingling sensations.
You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of anticipation and a touch of apprehension.
"Tommy," you murmured, your voice barely audible, but laden with unspoken desire.
He swallowed audibly, his eyes darkening with a hunger that mirrored your own. His fingers moved from your back to gently lift your chin, tilting your face up towards his and then his lips were on yours, a kiss that ignited a fire within you.
His lips moved against yours with a fervent passion, his hands sliding down to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer.
Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair as you responded to his kiss with equal fervor.
His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck, placing soft kisses along the way. Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of sensation straight to your core. Every touch, every brush of his lips, was a delicious torment that fueled the growing heat between you.
"Fuck, I've missed you," he breathed against your skin, his voice husky with desire.
The confession sent a shiver down your spine, the intensity of his words adding fuel to the fire burning within you. Your fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a sense of urgency. His hands mirrored your actions, working together, desperately to rid each other of the barriers that separated your bodies.
As the last button came undone, his shirt, suit and gunholster slipped from his shoulders, revealing his bare chest.
Your fingertips traced the lines of his tattoos, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each ragged breath.
Your dress was eventually discarded to the floor along with his clothes. You felt so desperate for him, both almost ripping each other's clothes off like animals.
Leaning against the wall across him there was a full-body-length mirror giving him a perfect vision of your ass, and back as he moved his kisses around your neck and shoulders.
He put a hand on your ass and caressed it softly before drawing his hand back and spanking it hard. The slap was sharp and loud in the small bedroom and it mixed with your moan. You dug your nails on his back.
“You're so fucking hot,” he said, noticing the skin of your ass becoming pinkish forming his handprint, moving to the other cheek, he squeezed it once, before slapping it just as hard.
He didn’t lose time, his lips met yours, sliding desperately.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as if trying to express all the longing you had held back. The taste of him, the pressure of his lips moving against yours, were like fuel.
With a swift and confident movement, he scooped you up in his arms. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his lower back as he carried you effortlessly towards the bed, where he gently placed you against the sheets. His lips never leaving yours.
He pinning you to the bed, kissing you with even more passion as he pressed his aching dick into your body through fhe fabric of his pants and briefs.
With your arms pinned against the bed, he started kissing your neck and kissing his way down to your breasts, and began to circle one of your nipples with his tongue.
“oh, Tommy. Fuck” you moaned as he closed his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it firmly.
He kissed your collar bone and moved to your earlobe, biting it playfully. 
“Tell me how bad do you want it” he whispered, his voice hoarse
“I want it so fucking bad. Fuck, i need it” you moaned
Tommy slid his pants off as if his life depended on it, his briefs slipping off along with it.
He flipped your body so that your stomach was pressing against the mattress. A movement that he did so effortlessly. Giving him the perfect view of your ass, which, according to him, was the most beautiful part of your body. 
He took his hand and gave your ass another firm slap, before firmly grabbing both yout asscheeks and spreading them apart. 
“So fucking beautifull” he praised. 
he leaned over you, his face now close to yours, where he left a few kisses on your cheek. his mouth right next to your ear again, just because he knew that turned you on. 
“I going to fuck you real good, ey” he said, his hands sliding between your legs, a finger sliding inside of you.
“Please” you moaned, spreading your legs a bit more apart
He stood back up, so that he could rub his dick against your asscheeks a few times before positioning it against your wet folds, leaning slightly, applying more and more pressure as he adjusted his posture before completely sliding inside of you. 
“Fuck, yes” you moaned as you felt him  inside of you. 
He reached one of his hands to hold at your shoulders, while the other reached one of your arms, pulling it to your back, holding you firmly as he started pounding nice and hard against you.
With every stroke you felt him deeper, moans left your lips involuntarily. His name eventually mixed with the sensual sounds leaving your lips, making Tommy wish you’d never stop. Every moan serving as a fuel for his hard thrusts to get harder and deeper
“Fuck, fuck… Tommy. Oh fuck” you moaned and felt the same strong slap on your left asscheek, then on your right “yes! just like that” you told him
Everytime your perfectly red ass pressed against his hip bones his mind took mental pictures, he would be daydreaming about you like this for the next few days. This, you… was exactly what he needed. The only one he needed. 
“You like it, hm?” he asked breathlessly as he slapped your ass one more time
“Yes, yes I do” you told him, biting your lower lip. 
“Fuck you feel so good” he let his head fall back, momentarily taking his eyes off you. “Tell me, y/n. Tell me you love it”
“I love it Tommy. God, I love your fucking cock so so much. Fuck just like that” your words spit out so quickly, desperate for him not to stop.
He held at your hips pulling them against him everytime he thrusted, making the movement rougher by the minute. 
You were feeling so overwhelmed by the feeling of him deep inside you that the orgasm that washed over you was inevitable. It wasn't common but vaginal orgasms happened once in a while with you, making you impressed everytime it did. 
“Fuck! I coming, i’m coming” you told him, as the orgasm washed over you, your face buried on the duvets
Without letting you recover from it, he pulled out and rolled you over to your back, your tits now reaching up, hard for him. He leaned over to kiss one of them as he pinched the other one hard.
“Fuck!” you cried at the feeling 
He then laid beside you, pulling your hips to him as he did “Get up here and sit on me”, he said and you slowly stumbled upwards to mount him. 
Your head spinning slightly, out of breath as you were still feeling the effects of pleasure course through your veins. As you got on top of him you held his cock, stroking it a few times before directing it to your entrance and slowly lowering your hip, sliding his cock back inside of you, where it belonged. 
“Fuck yes, ride that cock, real nice” he said as your hips moved back and forward. Tommys eyes were a combination of lust and admiration as he looked up to your bouncing tits and moaning lips. 
Both your moans filled the room and you could feel his body shake slight from the pleasure building up at every hip movement. He reached to hold both your nipples, pinching and twisting them, making the pleasure harder to handle as your legs started to feel weaker. 
Tommy leaned upwards pushing your hips against him, dictating the intensity of the moves as he was now working with you, his hips moving up, as yours pressed down on his. 
“Fuck, i’m getting close” He muttered 
“Me too, oh god. me too” you told him and took your fingers to start caressing your clit as you continued the movements, feeling the knot in your stomach starting to grow stronger. 
“Yeah, Just like that, ride that, fucking, cock” he said pausing between words everytime his hips pressed up. 
His grip tighter on your hips, his eyes fucking you as the most lustfull moan escaped his lips, his primal instincs taking over as he moved up, throwing your back against the bed as he started to fuck you faster and harder than ever before. His grunts, getting deeper and louder. 
“Fuck! Don’t stop, don't stop! Fuuuck” You cried surprised at the new feeling. Your nails digging at whatever piece of flesh of his you could grab hold, scratching his skin. 
You were already so close and his attack just made everything more intense, the knot that was forming before, was already strong and ready to explode. But for some reason it didn't, it just kept growing and growing.
“Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good” he told you out of breath, his atack on your nipples returning as one of his hands pinchend and twisted them. 
All you could do at this point was moan the words fuck repeatedly, your body starting to shiver. Your moans were turning him on so hard you knew he wouldn't last longer.
“Fuck, so close, so close. Don’t stop” you warned him,seconds before your body freezing as the best orgasm washed over you, your head spinning, a burning feeling washed over around your entire body as your skin felt hotter.
The sexiest moans leaving your lips followed by Tommys name, and that combined with your shivering state, was enough to push him over the edge. He couldn't hold anymore, a primal grunt escaped his lips and his moves got uncoordinated as he emptied himself inside of you, coming so hard he thought he would pass out, his vision getting blurred. After a few more strokes, he allowed himself to collapse on the bed beside you. 
"Holy shit," he whispered, his voice still tinged with disbelief and desire as he caught his breath.
The room was silent now, just the sound of your labored breathing filling it as you both recovered. Your labored breaths began to synchronize, creating a rhythm that seemed to echo the connection between you. 
Tommy's fingers brushed against your skin, as he moved to kiss your neck and collarbone. His touch, now gentle and caring.
His hand cupped your face, his fingers caressing your hair as he gazed into your eyes. You smiled at him and he smiled back, a small smile, but a huge one for a man like him.
“That was something” your voice laced with a mixture of amazement and satisfaction.
His chuckle resonated in the room, a sound that felt like a secret shared between the two of you, since not many would ever hear the sound of a Tommy’s Shelby chuckle
“Yes it was… Want a cigarette?” he asked and you nodded, watching him stand up and grab his overcoat, searching for his pack of cigarettes. 
He found his pack and lit one cigarette. The sight of him, half hard as he slid the cigarette over his lips before lighting it felt like the sexiest thing you’ve seen. The flicker of the cigarette illuminated his features in the dim light, casting shadows that danced across his face.
Slowly, he began to approach you, his eyes fixed on yours. He held your chin gently, making you sit, his fingers warm against your skin, as he took a drag from the cigarette. The smoke curled between his lips before he leaned in, exhaling the smoke into your mouth. The act was surprisingly intimate, making your core tinkle. 
He took another drag from the cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours as he sat beside you. The air seemed charged with electricity as he exhaled, the smoke curling around you both like a fragile veil. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned closer, his lips a whisper away from yours.
"You're something else, you know that?" he murmured, his voice husky with a mixture of arousal and admiration as he held your face and kissed you, feeling the taste of the smoke on his lips.
"You're not so bad yourself," you replied, your voice a low murmur .
His lips curved into a half-smile, the playfulness in his eyes contrasting with the intensity of his gaze. The cigarette rested between his fingers, forgotten for the moment as his focus remained solely on you.
the intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, he was fucking you with his eyes. your lips finally met in a hungry, passionate kiss, his lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, a craving for each other almost as if you hadn’t spent the last minutes fucking eachother senseless. 
As the kiss deepened, his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. 
When your lips finally parted, breathless and flushed, his words reached your ears like a plea. "Don't you ever think of leaving again."
You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, the depth of his fear and desire. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, the intensity of the moment a testament to the connection you shared.
"I won't," you whispered, your voice laced with determination. "But you have to promise me something too." His brow furrowed slightly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he waited for your words. "Promise me that you won’t shut me out again," you said, your voice soft but firm. "No more pushing me away, Tommy. If we're going to do this, to really make it work, you have to be all in."
He studied you for a moment, his gaze searching your face as if trying to decipher every emotion you were feeling. And then, with a nod, he gave you a small, genuine smile.
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453 notes · View notes
mystra-midnight · 11 months
Text
John Murphy
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❣ indicates sexual content
mains masterlist
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⚜ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒
in which you both need each other ❣
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⚜ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒
in his eyes pt i | pt ii
it was all there in the depths of his stare, on display for the world to see—if only people would look past the malice and apathy at the surface of them.
counting stars… rewrite coming soon
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⚜ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 & 𝐀𝐔’𝐒
27 notes · View notes
pogueswrld · 1 year
Note
Can you please do 68. “ Your back is so tense. Would you like a massage? With John murphy please? Maybe drop ship era?
ask and you shall receive 🫡 although this ask has been sent to me months ago and I only started writing it last night 🫣
*•.¸♡ love confessions ♡¸.•*
pairing: john murphy x fem!reader
summary: after a long day on camp, murphy's tense and only wants to be around his best friend. After spending some time together, he starts questioning if she should tell her about his feelings for her. Maybe he should just act on them. After all, actions speak louder than words, right?
warnings: none really, mostly fluff. forehead kisses, love confessions, he fell first and she fell harder. overall really soft yk
note: reader and murphy have been friends since childhood, okie? okie
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y/n has always been Murphy’s partner in crime. From the moment they locked eyes in the Ark’s cafeteria that fateful day when they were twelve years old. They’ve never parted each other’s side since. You would never see one without the other. If the trouble found one, you’d know the other was sure to follow.
It didn’t come as a surprise to anyone that when John Murphy’s arrest traveled through the spaceship, y/n’s was coming soon after. And by some strange consequences of the universe’s desire, the pair ended up in cells right beside one another.
It could be the dead of night, and you’d hear the pair chatting through the metal walls separating them. You’d find them gossiping or sharing information they gathered on some of the guards. They’d spend every waking moment together. They made it a point to share a lunch table with just the two of them.
When a couple of guards took John for his daily Earth Skills lesson and never brought him back, y/n started banging on the doors. She was scared of the thought that they’d done something to him, or if he did something stupid that would end him up in solitary lock-up. Or even worse; they’d floated him early.
His 18th birthday wasn’t for a few more months, and she was supposed to go first anyway.
She was near tears and still banging at the doors and screaming for someone to tell her where John was when guards unlocked the door and pushed her back against the wall. Silently shoving her to stay still and placing the metal bracelet around her wrist before forcefully dragging her out of her cell and into a line with all the other kids in the Skybox.
That’s how she ended up on Earth, and with John still.
The oldest on camp, some guy named Bellamy, recruited John and a couple of his friends to run the place. y/n didn’t necessarily agree with John’s methods, but he was still her friend and she was always there for him at the end of the day.
She was already in their shared tent (which they had both agreed to since there were around 100 kids in this camp and not nearly enough resources for all of them) when he strutted in. He paused by the tent’s zip door, watching the way she buried her hands in her hair and softly rubbed at her scalp. Her jacket and top were discarded somewhere and the thin tank top she wore underneath them was barely doing its job of covering her. John’s eyes remained on the muscles of her shoulder blades, the way they moved with each flex of her arms. He was mesmerized.
But this was his best friend, and he wasn’t about to make this weird. So he cleared his throat and continued on his way to his assigned side of the makeshift bed they’d been sleeping in. y/n turned to him, noting the way his storm cloud eyes seemed sunken in, his tense shoulders, and his hollowed cheekbones. Her brows furrowed in worry, huddling together between her eyes.
She turned completely to face him, “What’s up with you?”
John shifts his eyes to her face, he had been dozing off to nothing. He scanned her face. She somehow seemed so much prettier than she was that morning. With glowing skin and more defined lips, she looked ethereal in the muffled light of their tent.
“What?” He mumbled, realizing that she had asked him a question and he dozed off staring at her, his eyes jumping from one feature of hers to the next.
She smiled, an action so soft and gentle it made his heart drum. “What’s up with you John? Are you okay?”
He had no idea what she was saying, but he was watching her lips move. He hummed, no idea to what, and slightly nodded. y/n quickly caught up. She knew her best friend, and he only disconnected from reality when it was too much for him.
She sighed and crawled across the bed, she sat behind him. Her hand gently climbed up his tensed back before coming to rest on his shoulders. She let out a sigh before letting her hands climb lower to his chest, her arms coming to hold him from behind as her chin rested on his right shoulder.
John leaned back his head, resting it on her shoulder, and slightly closed his eyes.
“Your back is so tense. Would you like a massage?” y/n mumbled softly. She didn’t want to interrupt the gentle atmosphere they’d created in their little bubble. He hummed.
She slowly pulled back until her hands came to his shoulders again. She let her thumb work in a circular motion on the pressure points of his shoulder blades as the rest of her fingers worked on squeezing the muscle. John breathed a sigh from his nose, his tense back slowly slouching in her hold. She let her hands climb lower, pushing and rubbing at his back until he was at complete ease.
She only let go when his head lulled back to face her with both of his eyes closed. She smiled and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead that shot both of his eyes open to meet her glowing ones. Her smile forced her eyes to squint in the cutest way, and John pulled himself back together before turning to face her.
He sighed and made a show of cracking his back and neck, which she cringed at. “Ew, stop that.” He chuckled, “I’ll get you to do it one day.” She pulled one side of her lips upward in disgust, “Yeah, as if.”
Silence washed over them as they both adjusted their positions so they were more comfortable facing one another. The noise of the kids in camp was drowned out by the crackling fire, and everything smelled of burnt wood. The teens had their eyes locked on one another without a single word passing between them, and they didn’t need any.
For the longest time, y/n thought about her feelings for John. What they meant for the both of them, and how they’d change their dynamic if she was to ever speak of them. Unbeknownst to her, he was thinking the same.
John remembers the first time he felt his heart race to something y/n did for him. She had punched a kid and broken his nose after trying to bully John, she wasn’t having it. He had kept his eyes glued to her, a small splatter of blood tainted her cheeks from the blow of her hit, and she turned to him with a grin that made his stomach drop. They were fourteen.
y/n knew she cared for John more than just a friend when they broke the law for the first time together. Stealing candy from the main kitchen and chewing at them within the air ventilators to steer clear from the guards. The adrenaline pumping through her had her clutching to him and when they both calmed down, she realized he had his arm wrapped around her waist and his hand holding her tightly to him. It burned her face. They were fifteen.
Then again when she traded some of that candy for weed from Jasper and Monty. In the haze of the high, Murphy looked more handsome than the ridiculously boyish she’s grown to know. It made her realize just how much they had grown and how much closer they had gotten. Both emotionally and physically. He was leaning in to kiss her, and she was going to let him, had she not panicked. They were sixteen.
She wasn’t quite ready for their relationship to change back then. And even though it had been a year and some, she believed she still wasn’t. But the way he looked at her then, with his beautiful storm cloud eyes, dissecting every piece of her and trying to claw at her mind to guess her thoughts, she thought about how ready she was.
They were aching to hold each other, but neither one was ready to make the first move, fear paralyzing their every move. Just when the ache got too much to handle, when his heart tugged painfully in his chest, begging him to reach out and hold her hands, to wrap his own around hers, to pull her close enough to smell the burnt wood on her, to keep her close enough to feel her heat radiate into his own, John turned away from her. And somehow that was worse.
Unlike John, y/n was completely present when she was drowning in her thoughts. She saw the conflict of whatever he was thinking about clearly on his face. She saw the way his content expression fell and his lips pulled themselves into a pout. She noticed the way his hand moved from their place on his thigh to his chest, trying so hard to discreetly rub at where his heart sat within his ribcage.
She wished she had his ability to contain himself. She doesn’t. Which was why she was the one to reach out, to hold his hand and push herself closer to him, to rub at the back of his hands and try so hard to not kiss him. 
She was concerned for him though, which was why she held the hand against his heart with furrowed brows, “What’s wrong?” She whispered, her thumb still caressing the space between his thumb and index. Her worried tone brought tears to his eyes, and for once, tough and bad John Murphy whimpered.
She immediately wrapped her hands around his shoulders, holding him tightly as if he were broken pieces of glass that if she held tight enough would be able to glue themselves back together, and it broke his heart.
He remembers the day he heard that she’d been arrested. He had never felt such fear course through him, and it wasn’t the same kind of fear as when he lost his father, this was far more intense and terrifying. He kept asking for her, asking about her, the need for answers made him scream at the door of his cell until Kane showed up at his cell to tell him of her crime and that she will also be held in the Skybox.
She was older than him, so he knew he was going to lose her before she lost him. And the idea petrified him. He cried about it to her once, and she cradled him like she was doing now, silently and gently. He promised himself that, since they were both set to die in a year’s time, he wasn’t going to contain himself when it came to her. He wanted to stand bare before her, tell her everything he’s ever thought of her, tell her everything he’s ever felt for her. Yet somehow they go to live, and he still wanted to hold up that promise.
So he pulled up his head and stared her square in the eye, and even though there were tears trickling down his cheeks, he still looked as pretty as ever. y/n cupped his cheeks and wiped away his tears, her eyes pooling her own as she held them back.
John inhaled a deep breath and blinked his tears away, “I love you.” He mumbled, his face barely inches away from her own, and a fierce look in his eyes. Immediately, she knew exactly what he meant, but the shock of it made her blink rapidly back at him. “What?” She breathed.
“I love you, y/n. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I’ve loved you from the moment you stepped into my life. I’ve loved you every time you punched a kid for me. I’ve loved you every time you irritated the shit out of me. I’ve loved you every time you pulled away when I tried to kiss you. I loved you when I thought I was going to lose you, and I love you still. I love you.”
y/n’s lips had parted, and her eyes darted back and forth between his. “I’m so sick of holding that back, of not loving you the way I want to, and if you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, but please don’t pull away from me now.” And he leaned into her, his hand grabbing hold of one of her hands and pressing it against his chest to feel his drumming heart as his face slowly closed the gap that stood between them for years. Then, his lips softly pressed onto hers.
From the moment he had started talking, fireworks had gone off within her at an erratic pace, her heart raced against her thoughts and blood rushed all throughout her body. When she felt his lips lock onto hers, she was gone. Her mind blanked, her eyes closed, her hand clutched at his shirt, and she kissed him back with the same gentleness, scared to scare him off. When he tried to pull away, to look at her, the hand that had been cupping his face held him tighter. She held his face with both of her hands before pulling him back to her lips, kissing him with a burning passion that reassured him more than any words ever could.
And finally, they were loving each other the way they had wanted. The ache in his heart dimmed to nothing as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close enough to his lap. She straddled him and slowly pulled away from his bruised lips. They remained silent as they caught their breaths, their eyes closed in worry that this might just be another dream. But then he chuckled lightheartedly, and she followed.
John opened his eyes and stared at her, nothing but love and adoration sparkling in his gray orbs, and the happiest smile y/n had ever seen on him tugged at his lips. She grinned back at him, her teeth burying themselves in her bottom lip and he sighed. “I love you too, you know.” She mumbled, giggling slightly. “I can never give a little speech like yours though, but I love you so much.” John barked a laugh at her words then nodded.
“Can I kiss you again?” He asked.
She melted in his hold, “Yes, and please don’t stop this time.”
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blue-sadie · 6 days
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A Little Convincing
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Imagine:
Being one of the last people to have the bracelet and siding with Clarke so Bellamy and Murphy decided to give you a little convincing when they find you alone on a late night walk.
"That's it relax against me, let us take it off then we can finish what we started yeah, it already looks like your about to cum"
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Masterlist
This is my masterlist of my own writings. As of right now, I don't have very many but there will be more to come!
John Murphy (The 100)
Little Tease (Smut)
Good Girl (Smut)
What Would I Do Without You? (Smut)
Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)
Consequences of Being a Brat (Smut)
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fanfics4all · 2 years
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Tease Me
Request: Yes / No Hi! I have been reading and really enjoying so much of your work! (I didn't want to spam you with likes though 😅) I was wondering if you'd be willing to do a  more BDSM themed John Murphy smut with a fem reader perspective (I truly do not care what season, I've seen the whole show multiple times but if it is later seasons please add Emori in the fun?) Where the reader is being a little bit of a tease and when John (or John and Emori) decide to show her what happens when she acts like a brat. Maybe  some overstimulation involved as part of the punishment and some fluffy aftercare at the end? @twirlywhirlywriting​
Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night
John Murphy x Fem!Reader 
Word count: 1121
Warnings: Smut!
A/N: So I don’t super love how this came out, but I’m also feeling sick today. If you don’t like it I will totally rewrite it! 
PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 
If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 
Masterlist 
If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 
(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)
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John Murphy was ever an asshole, but I loved him. I especially loved to tease him and be a total brat to him. It always ended with some of the best sex in the world! Did I get punished? Yes. Did I care? Yes. Was it worth it? Fuck yes! However, when I desperately needed him, he was always busy. I was feeling worked up and it was all because of him! He had been teasing me all day, I knew he was going to pleasure me later, but it was driving me absolutely insane! 
Once all the work for the day was done I walked into our shared tent and he was already there. I tired my best to keep my hands to myself, like he told me to earlier. However, I failed and grabbed him by the neck, kissing him passionately. Maybe he was right, I should learn to be more patient. Clearly today was not that day. He didn’t kiss me back and huffed through his nose. 
“We had one rule.” He said, turning his face away from me. 
“We can try again next time.” I said, my lips brushing his jaw as I spoke. 
“I promise.” I said and lightly kissed his jaw line. 
I tugged at his shirt, but he wouldn’t let me have the upper hand. I planted another kiss on his lips. John gripped my jaw, deepening the kiss as he made me part my lips. He shoved his tongue into my mouth, he hummed as I happily welcomed it. He pulled away abruptly as soon as he realized I was enjoying myself. He was going to take his time and rile me up more, even though he knew I already was! 
“Take off your clothes.” He ordered, giving my ass a playful spank as he pulled away from me. I quickly shed them off and threw them to the side without any care.
He ran his hands down my body, lightly, barely touching me. The featherlike caresses of his fingers were torture! Albeit, a thrilling torture I didn’t want to be over. I could tell he was frustrated by how willing I was to put up with his torture. John dragged his hands over my skin, avoiding my pussy. He was taking his time to make me into a pretty little mess, just for him. I licked my lips, unconsciously, as I gazed at him expectantly. He gave me a wet kiss and nodded towards our bed. 
“Get on the bed.” He ordered. I walked towards the mattress and kneeled on it, waiting for more instructions. 
“Lay down on your back.” He said. I laid down on my back with my forearms draped over my stomach. 
“Are you comfortable, babe?” He asked, trailing the tips of his fingers down my thighs. 
“Yes.” I answered in a husky tone. He placed his hands on my knees, spreading my legs apart. 
“Wet already?” He touted me, betrayed by the smile that broke out on his face. John bit down on his lip, hands rubbing along the inside of my thighs. He was slowly inching closer to where I needed him most. I shifted to watch his movements and he surprisingly didn’t forbid me from moving. His fingers finally brushed along my slit, lightly teasing, but careful not to touch my clit. 
Slipping, he finally rubbed my clit. I gave him an encouraging nod, slilently asking for him to just fuck me with my fingers already. I knew he hated the fact that I was enjoying the teasing, when he was intending to make me crumble with desire, but he’d have to work harder than that. John crumbled first, parting my lips, pushing into my pussy. I whined as I felt his fingers finally enter me. He paused to let me adjust, but I moved my hips, pushing against his fingers. He curled his fingers inside me. I yelped in pleasure, shifting to look up at him. 
“Don’t stop!” I panted. A shudder broke through my body, my wobbly legs pressing together. John quickened his pace, he moaned lowly. I clenched on his fingers, coming down with my eyes shut and my head tilted back. He rubbed my trembling thigh with his free hand, attempting to soothe me as his fingers slowed down. He withdrew his fingers little by little, to then drag them up my folds, flicking his fingertips against my now swollen clit. 
“You’re making a mess.” He said cruelly as he circled my clit. My hips jolted up, hands reaching for the first thing they could find, which happened to be the sleeve of his t-shirt. 
John hovered over my torso, peppering kisses on my stomach. He licked a stripe up my chest, pressing his fingers more firmly against my clit. His tongue swirled around my nipple at the same rhythm he stroked my clit, flicking at a quicker pace. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I felt another orgasm run through me. He didn’t give any time to recover, slipping his fingers back into my pussy. He slid down my body, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses. His mouth latched onto my clit, teasing and tasting me. He sucked on my slit, harshly, until I bucked against him. He laughed as I squirmed. 
“You’re doing so good.” He said, barely pulling away from my clit. I writhed under him, whimpering in shock at the pleasure. He prodded my pussy with his tongue, pushing it deep into me while thumbing my clit at the same time. 
Stretching his arm, he pushed two fingers into my mouth. My tongue curled around his digits as I sucked them, tasting myself. He thrusted his fingers in and out of my mouth at the same time as he lapped at my pussy, teasing my sensitive clit. Muffling my cries by sticking another finger into my mouth, John continued to mercilessly eat me out. With a loud whine I came against as his tongue fucked in and out of me at a relentless pace.  
Giving me a small break, he made his way back up. He kissed my cheek first, but I desperately twisted my face to kiss his lips. I tasted myself on his tongue and we both groaned with pleasure. John dragged his hands all over my body, cupping, gripping, caressing, feeling every tremor in my body. I sucked on his tongue, moaning. 
“One more for me, hmm?” He mumbled against my mouth. 
“Please, John!” I begged. Not really sure if I was begging him to stop or to keep going. 
“That’s my good girl.” He said and made his way back down. This was going to be a long night…
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forevermorepassionate · 4 months
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Bellamy would be rough but Murphy would be mean
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