Dirty One Direction Imagines Novels & Stories

Shawn Mendes - Imagination I'm sorry it's more narrative than conversation. I want to tell you how they feel. Sorry if it's getting boring. 🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯

Low-maintenance. I picked up my phone, my fingers trembling with a terrifying, giddy excitement. Me: Fine. But I’m not setting foot in his room. And I’m not just a prop in your porno. I’m the director. Bash: Fuck yes. Our place. 9 PM. Wear something you want to see torn off you. The house was exactly how I remembered it: dark, a little messy, and vibrating with a kind of masculine energy that was both intimidating and thrilling.

I'm a mess – a perfect, filthy, destroyed, worshipped mess. "Don't clean up yet," Ethan says. He grabs his phone. Photographs me – covered in cum, spread on the sheets, the bowl of unused condoms visible on the nightstand, evidence of a night that exceeded every fantasy I've ever had. "Now," he says, setting the phone down. "Who wants to go again?" Round two is dirtier than round one.

Opened it. Cold fog rushed in, kissing her naked skin. Goosebumps everywhere. The balcony was small—railing chest-high, city drop below. Streetlights glowed through the mist. A few cars crawled on the street far down. Windows across the way—some dark, some lit. A silhouette moved behind one curtain. Bonnie stepped out. Naked. Dildo still inside, thrusting slow now, controlled by the Honeyswarm. “Fuck,” she breathed. “This is insane.”

Something dirty. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away. Trying to make my body calm down, make the aching need between my legs go away through sheer force of will. It didn't work. Images from the dream kept flashing behind my eyelids. Victor's hand on my throat. Dante's fingers inside me. The way they'd looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. Like they wanted to consume me whole. My body throbbed with want.

I thought about Sebastian again and his cold voice after saying this didn't mean anything and I just wanted to see what it was like, but it meant something to me, it meant something and I didn't know what to do with that. I reached over and grabbed a dirty T-shirt off the floor and wiped my stomach and my chest, the fabric rough and cold and I didn't care, then I pulled up my boxers and my jeans and did up the button and the belt with my hands still shaking a little. I rolled onto my side and pulled my knees up on the lumpy mattress where the sheet was damp with sweat and come and I didn't care about any of it, I just closed my eyes and Sebastian was still there behind my lids and in my ches

I pressed it once, just to make it real, and then I turned the water on hot. I stood under it until the heat stopped feeling like punishment and started feeling like something my body remembered how to take. I washed my hair twice. I washed my hands longer than they needed. I let the water run down my back and tried not to think about a needle in a neck, or gold stacked farther than the light, or Dallas’s mouth in a parked car under trees. When I finally shut it off, the room was full of steam and my skin was clean for the first time in days that had not been days so much as one long night with different skies.

But when Matilda ran out, she took the bottle if liquor infront of her and after gulping down a huge quantity of it, she threw it to the wall and the bottle made a shattering sound, breaking into pieces. Lauren growled again in rage, she was loosing her mind. All she ever did was love Ron Diego and for what? To be dumped and replaced by Sarah Waves? Of course not, she was not going to allow it. This wasn't over yet, she was going to fight, she was going to squash the both of them like bugs. *

No escape. Nadia stood dripping in the middle of the floor, black sundress plastered to her skin, outlining every curve, nipples hard against the wet fabric. Cum still leaked slow and warm down her inner thigh from the beach. She could feel it—sticky, obscene—and it only made her angrier. Kai locked the door. Turned. His shirt clung transparent to his chest, every ridge of muscle visible, pants low on his hips, cock already thickening again under the soaked material.

She opened the note in it and read “a cup every evening before bed. 3 days only.” Now she had her trophy, and two options, the vast land in front of her and the noise behind her. She already knew escape was not an option because she could see that the fences were still very much holding, and very much high. Escape was nowhere in sight but her wolf, she itched. “You can't be serious.” She said out loud. “Now, you wanna come alive, Snow girl?” But she kept moving. She got to the third creek and then she heard the noise, much louder than what she had left behind her, and much stranger too.