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#he and dick played for 6 months once
adeptune01 · 1 year
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*bored at a Wayne gala*
Tim: Anybody have any game ideas?
Dick: Let's play the question game!
Jason: NO! Do NOT listen to him.
Duke: What's the question game?
Dick: Two people have a conversation but only in questions. The first person to say a normal sentence loses- but couldn't you have figured it out?
Damian: That does not sound difficult.
Jason: He is unnaturally good at this stupid game. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Dick: It's not that bad is it? So who's up first?
Jason: Run away, little pigs. Run away while you still can.
Steph: Could I give it a go?
Dick: I don't know? Could you?
Steph: You're pretty confident aren't you?
Dick: Any reason I shouldn't be?
Steph: Remind me: your old outfit was butt-ugly, right?
Duke: Isn't that a little...personal?
Steph: Quiet, you. Wait, no, hang on-
Jason: Ooooh, sorry, Steph!
Steph: Duke distracted me! That's cheating!
Dick: Would you like a rematch?
Tim: Wait, wait. Let me give this a try.
Dick: You want to try, Tim?
Tim: Why not?
Dick: Let me know when you're ready?
Tim: I'm ready.
Jason: Short and sweet.
Dick: Anyone else? Jason?
Jason: Hell no- I've lost enough of my life to this dumb game.
Dick: What about you, Damian? You want to give this a try?
Damian: Well, wouldn't that be the next logical step?
Dick: Who said this was a logical game?
Damian: Were you the one who told Bruce to limit my animal adoption rates?
Dick: And what if I was?
Damian: Would you not feel betrayed?
Dick: Would you not like me to act in your own interest?
Damian: Is that a real question?
Dick: Is that an incredibly weak response?
*several hours later*
Damian: But have I proved my point?
Dick: Can we agree to disagree?
Duke: Dick, how long is this going to go on for?
Jason: Hours...days. Months doesn't seem unreasonable.
Tim: Speaking from experience?
Jason: You have no idea.
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bunnylovesani · 3 months
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A Rough Ride
Summary: Getting fucked in Anakin’s car. That’s about it.
Content Warnings: MDNI, major daddy issues/kink, p in v sex, degradation, mean dom/sub dynamic, spanking, fingering, slapping, cum play, facial, aftercare
WC: 1.8k
Hearing critical comments about your controversial relationship with a man 20 years your senior was nothing you weren’t used to. After several months, you’d acclimated to the jokes about how you must have daddy issues and how he must be a creep; the bottom line was that you loved Anakin and he loved you, the rest was just noise and it didn’t bother you in the slightest.
It was a whirlwind romance- a glance shared across a late-night bar led to a steamy night in a dirty motel room which led to the following 6 months of sex-fuelled fun. Guys your age just didn’t know how to fuck the way you needed to be fucked- you needed a man of experience, a man of skill.
That’s how you ended up bent over the backseat of his Ferrari, face pressed firmly against the leather interior while he roughly pounded into your cunt. You couldn’t muster up anything besides the occasional cry of “Harder daddy, please!” and “Mm, ’s so good…” and he chuckled dryly at the way you fell apart on his cock.
“Harder baby? You sure? I don’t wanna ruin this pretty pussy.” He hardened his grip on your hips, self-control slipping.
“Yesyesyes- please daddy ruin me.” You babbled, drool leaking down the side of your face and ruining your makeup.
“Alright darling, you got it.” He muttered under his breath, sloppy thrusts getting rougher and faster. “You’re such a daddy’s girl, aren’t you baby?”
You nod and let out a little “mhmm!”, chewing your bottom lip raw.
“Daddy’s good girl…y’know what happens to good girls?” He asks you, smacking the palm of his hand against your ass cheek. “Good girls get to cum.”
You whine and claw at the upholstery, knot in your tummy growing.
“Stop whining or I’ll give you something to whine about.” He growls and you look back at him in confusion, pretty doe eyes staring pitifully up at him.
“Good girls also shut up and take it.” He lifts his hips and buries his cock to the hilt, abdomen firmly smacking against you. You scream at the extra inches he’s given you and his movements come to a standstill; he usually restrains himself because he knows you can’t take his whole cock but he must be in a brutal mood today.
“I’m gonna start moving now, and if you can take it- I’ll let you cum. If you can’t, you’re gonna get on your knees instead. Understood?”
You nod, tears pricking at your eyes. You wanted to cum so badly but you weren’t sure if you could take such a rough pounding with his full length.
Slowly, he moves his hips back before pressing into you, tip kissing your cervix. You bite your fist and bury your forehead into the seat, trying so hard to be a good girl and not make a sound but after almost an hour of relentless pummeling, you were at the end of your rope.
“Good, stay nice and quiet f’me.” He grumbles as he begins to go harder, near-silent squeaks escaping your wet lips. You begin to slide your way out of his grip, distancing yourself away just a little to ease the pressure.
“Come back here.” He grabs your hips and impales you right back onto his dick with a stubborn grunt. Teeth marks form on your clenched fist and a wet spot pools on the back seat, spit connected between the puddle and your parted mouth. The feeling of him so deep in your guts is deliciously agonising and you can’t help but to give in and let him fuck you like you’re his sex toy. Once you stop fighting the intrusion, pleasure comes over you in intense waves, beads of sweat trickling down your back as you tremble. Squeaks of discomfort are replaced with quietly guilty moans of pleasure and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin.
“Listen to me, you little slut.” He rakes his hand up the back of your head, firmly gripping your hair and roughly bringing you up to him. “You better not cum yet.” Your brows upturn and eyes glisten in a pleading countenance. “If you do, there will be consequences.” He warns you with a mischievous smirk, almost hoping you disobey him so he can have fun making you regret it.
You want to listen to him with every fibre of your being but you have no control over your own body when he’s fucking you like this. With an aggressive push, you’re thrown back onto the seat and you grip the side of it so hard you leave scratches all over the leather. Scrunching your face up, you feel yourself failing- disobeying his order as you’re pushed over the edge to your release. You try to stay still hoping he won’t notice but the way you clench around his cock, making it glisten with your creamy arousal is a dead giveaway.
“Oh now you’ve done it.” He scowls and pulls out suddenly, making you tense up in anticipation of your punishment. “Get on your knees.”
You uncurl out of the ball you’ve scrunched yourself into and follow his command, positioning yourself between his legs.
“I’m gonna cum all over that pretty whore face of yours.” He grabs the base of his dick and strokes himself, maintaining eye contact as he jerks off to the image of your angelic face.
You stick your tongue out as he comes undone, hot cum squirting out and landing all over your mouth and cheeks. You giggle happily as he rubs his spent cock around, letting you lick up the creamy mess. He comes closer and grabs you by the cheeks with one hand, rubbing his cum all over them before smacking you suddenly with an open palm.
“You like getting slapped around by a man twice your age?” He hits you again, firmly enough to leave your cheeks reddened but not so hard that it stings. He saves that for when you’re really bad.
Nodding, you beam with glee as you raise yourself off your knees, wanting to cuddle up to him like you usually do once you’re done but he stops you.
“Oh no, sweetheart. That wasn’t your punishment. Bend over my lap.” He tucks himself into his trousers and zips them back up before leaning back to allow you to take your position. Somewhat confused, you follow his lead and prop yourself over his legs, ass perched up in the air. His warm calloused hand glides over your ass and you hum contentedly, relishing in his touch. Abruptly, a loud smack is heard and your cheeks jiggle with the tremor of his strike.
“A-am I getting spanked, Ani?” You choke out in shock.
“Yes, you are baby. This is what happens when you misbehave. Daddy has to discipline you.” He calmly explains as he slaps you again, a little harder this time. You feel his hand trailing down to your pussy, fingers rubbing against the slit before slipping down to your throbbing clit. You’re so sensitive that you start squirming in his lap- a move he quickly puts an end to when his big-knuckled hand presses harshly against your back- pinning you down like you were an unruly kitten.
He leans over until his face is hovering above your ass before spitting a thick glob of saliva over your pussy, the drool seeping down to your hole. He groans as he smears it around before pushing two fingers into your throbbing hole, already sore from being fucked raw.
“Aniii…” You moan, burying your face into your hands as a sudden wave of shyness comes over you.
“What’s the matter, baby? You don’t like daddy makin’ you feel good?” He coos as he fucks you with his fingers, lewd squelching sounds filling the steamy car. “What’s wrong, my angel?”
“N-nothin’ daddy, it’s just- mm- too much!” You pant, head swirling.
“You can take it baby, you’re my big strong girl, aren’t you?” He murmurs softly and you huff breathily. Another slap lands on your rosy cheeks as he curls his fingers deeper, “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, daddy, yes- I can take it!” You sniffle, trying to compose yourself but the way he’s stretching you out coupled with the salty taste of his cum on your tongue has your concentration in tatters.
“Aw, you just need someone to take care of you, don’t you baby?” You sob out “mhmm!” in response and feel another orgasm coming on- he’d made you cum so many times you’d lost count.
“Daddy’s gonna take care of his baby.” He rubs the small of your back comfortingly while his fingers plunge in and out of you, pushing you over the edge into your release. You whine and wail as your thighs shake and he shushes you soothingly until you calm down- limp body collapsed over his lap.
“C’mere baby.” He opens his arms and you jump into them, wrapping your arms urgently around his neck.
“Woah darling, you okay?” He places his broad hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his warm chest.
“Y-yeah. I’m just- ugh!” You choke out frustratedly, tears streaming down your face from how overwhelmed you felt.
“Shh baby, shh- I know.” He coddles you and you let yourself sob into him. He made you feel such strong emotions you didn’t know how to handle them- so you often curled up into his lap and unravelled after a particularly intense round.
“How does some hot chocolate, your favourite movie and a fort of blankies and plushies sound?” He lightly nudged his nose against yours and you perked up instantly.
“Sounds amazing, Ani.” Your heart warmed with how he cared for you, it was unlike anything you’d ever had before.
“We just need to get through this first.” He rubs any remnants of cum off your face with his sleeve, smoothing your frizzy hair down with his other hand. “We kinda chose an inopportune moment for this…”
You poke your head up and remember your surroundings- you’re parked in a dark alley around the corner from Anakin’s house. His friends and family had gathered for a Christmas dinner being hosted at his place and it was meant to be your first time meeting most of them. Glancing into the front view mirror, you gasped at the sight: your makeup was utterly ruined- mascara smudged, lipstick smeared and your hair looked like you’d been dragged through a bush.
“Ani! How ‘m I supposed to meet them like this?” You mewled, wanting desperately to make a good first impression considering the controversy and disapproval that surrounded your relationship.
“I don’t know baby, you should’ve thought about that before you started acting like a little brat.” He shrugs, opening the car door and stepping into the crisp winter air. “You coming?” He held his hand out with a self-satisfied smirk, eager to show off the mess he’d made of you.
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Taglist:
@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @slvttedoutmars @emmalandry
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beom-pyu · 9 months
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i can't swim, idiot ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu
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choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags: best friends to lovers au , beomgyu is annoying(ly cute) , fake dating? nah... fake married? bingo! , reader is so fed up with beomgyu how is he still alive , fluff , black cat x golden retriever dynamic ??? , hinted bisexual!beomgyu happy pride month , hinted pining , nsfw , some cliche moments bc who doesn't love a good cliche
warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is referred to as a wife and "mrs" , cursing , playfully (?) threatening each other's lives , soft dom!beomgyu , sub!reader , pool sex , unprotected sex , marking , praise , creampie , cum eating , morning sex <3 , cunninglus (fem receiving) , overstimulation , dry humping , big dick gyu community please gather
a/n: another summer fic for you lovelies!! <3 i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i had fun writing it! (not edited yet!)
song recs: island - youha, spotless mind - jhene aiko, nature feels - frank ocean
wc: 10.7k+
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[I THINK WE JUST GOT SCAMMED.]
“wait, wait, wait. you did what?” 
you slowly lower your lukewarm cup onto the cafe table before taking out your airpods—no music is playing, but you want to be 100% sure you heard him right. your best friend shoots you a lopsided grin from across the table, stirring his drink with the chewed straw in between his fingers.  
“i entered us into an exclusive giveaway for married couples to win a trip to greece for a week?”
one by one, you can feel your brain cells begin to die off at his words, your eye twitching while beomgyu smiles innocently at you. 
“beomgyu, i’m going to ask you a simple question and i want a simple answer.” pinching the bridge of your nose, you inhale for a second before meeting his eyes with the most exasperated gaze you've ever worn in your life. “why?”
the brown-haired boy is all too quick with a reply.
“why not?” beomgyu shrugs, his tiny grin morphing into something menacing on his lips—as if this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in all of his 22 years of life. 
you have the sudden passing thought to throw your coffee at his face, but that’s a precious $6 you’d never get back, so you refrain from doing so. instead, you take a slow, deep breath and momentarily close your eyes.  “god, if you’re out there, please, please give me patience.”
“i’m pretty sure the phrase is ‘god give me strength’,” beomgyu retorts from his seat across from you, sipping annoyingly on his nearly empty caramel frappe.
you blink at him once, twice. “if god gave me strength, you’d be in a casket right now.”
beomgyu simply cackles at your response, feigning a scared face with his hands up like he’s being held at gunpoint before he continues to laugh at his own mockery. you kick him under the table, successfully wiping that wide smile off of his dumb face.
“what was that for?” beomgyu whines with a pout, reaching down to rub his shin. a few heads turn to see what the ruckus is about and you shoot them a polite, apologetic smile and bow before turning back to mr. drama queen. the kick wasn’t even that hard.
“did you even think about what would happen if we actually won? we don’t have the time nor the money for a resort in greece.”
“oh, calm down, y/n. you know no one ever actually wins those things, right? they’re all scams.” beomgyu waves you off with his hand before bringing the green straw back up to his lips, your ears bleeding at the sound of his obnoxious slurping. you can’t stand his face.
“and how are you so sure of that?”
“because i entered that nickelodeon giveaway thing when i was 11 and never heard back from them.”
you blink at him again, thrice this time—just in case you’ve been transported into a different dimension and a stupidity demon has possessed your best friend’s body. nonetheless, beomgyu is still grinning idiotically as he chews on his straw, tilting his head at you like a maltese.
“please be so serious right now.” 
“i am! plus, even if we do win—which we won’t—and it’s not a scam… shit, that’s a free trip to greece!”
the joy on his face boils your blood to no end. he’s truly dense; you can’t believe you’re insane enough to call him your other half. everything on earth must be balanced out, you suppose—the yin to your yang.
“have you considered the fact that we aren’t married?” you cock your head at him, hands folded on top of the table, speaking slowly as if you’re talking to a child… hold on, wait—you literally are.
“shoot—could’ve fooled me!” beomgyu lets out a puff of laughter. “we might as well be.”
you blink at him again.
“please don’t ever say that again. i think i just threw up in my mouth.”
beomgyu rolls his eyes before snatching his phone out of his pocket with the speed of light to show you the flier he had screenshotted. he shoves the phone in your face, tapping incessantly at the bottom text of the photo.
“look. it says all expenses paid.” 
you stare at him with a silent ‘so what?’ and beomgyu sighs dramatically as he lowers his phone. he has the nerve to be exasperated with you? you’ll never understand where men get the pure audacity.
“so you’re going to look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t pretend to be my wife for a few days so we can get a free trip to greece?”
you look him straight in the eye. “beomgyu, i’d rather be burned on a stake.” 
“yea, 'cause you’re a fucking witch,” he mumbles under his breath, trying to hold in his laughter. you don’t know how much more patience you have with him, so you simply exhale, checking the clock on your phone.
“i don’t have time for this—i gotta get to my lecture,” you huff out, standing as you grab your bag that sits by your feet. beomgyu pitifully whines, looking up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes known to man.
“would you seriously not do it?” 
it’s now your turn to laugh, picking up your coffee to take a big sip. you’re gonna need the caffeine. 
“those things are scams, gyu—you said it yourself! see you later.”
nights are oh, so serene, you think, as your head hits your fluffy pillow later that night. you’re freshly showered and tucked under your covers, snug as a bug in a rug as you doze off to the lovely scent of your hibiscus air freshener and the quiet waves of your sleep sounds machine. there’s no need to count sheep—you’re completely drained from all of the walking you had to do today. all of your classes just so happen to be on opposite sides of the campus, and you’re sure your step counter is on the verge of exploding by now.
your mattress feels even comfier today, a slight breeze coming through your cracked window, balancing out the heat from your thick duvet. it takes no time at all for you to be tugged under by the lust of sleep, drifting off to a perfect dreamland full of bright colors and open fields and your blaring ringtone.
wait.
your ringtone?
you don’t even bother to open your eyes, patting around your bed for your phone before you feel the cool screen against your fingertips. it takes a few failed swipes to actually answer, mumbling out a half-asleep “hello?” as you lazily press the device to your ear.
“hi, my wonderful bff. my world, my girl, my bro, my home-shizzle! hypothetically, on a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if i told you that the greece trip thing wasn’t a scam? and that we won? and that we leave in 2 days? hypothetically.” 
the silence is incredibly loud.
“eleven.”
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[NEWLYWEDS.]
three months ago, if you were to tell yourself that you would be adorning a fake amazon wedding ring with your best friend’s arm wrapped around your waist as you stand inside some modern insurance firm being interviewed as a newlywed couple—well, you probably would’ve admitted yourself into the nearest asylum.
you don’t know what choices from your past led you to this moment, forcing a smile as a middle-aged woman with the cleanest-cut bob you’ve ever seen enthusiastically shakes your hand before moving on to beomgyu’s. he seems completely unfazed and the thought alone irks your soul to no end.
truthfully, this is all your fault. if you would’ve just told beomgyu that you are not going to pretend to be his wife for a week, you would’ve never ended up in this situation in the first place. but can anyone blame you when he offered to pay for your coffee every single day for the next 6 months, and wash your car, and take out your trash for as long as you ask him to? 
right! any sane person would’ve said yes, too!
so here you are as mrs. choi (gag), laughing along as the lady cracks a few jokes, complimenting beomgyu’s silky hair and your bright smile before sighing dreamily.
“my goodness, aren’t you two just the cutest newlyweds i’ve ever seen! how many months has it been?”
beomgyu looks down at you with a soft smile; anyone who is meeting him for the first time would’ve taken the gaze as something filled with pure adoration and undiluted love… but you know him. you see the way his eyes sparkle with mischief, the annoying quirk of his playful grin, and the pure amusement that washes over his features at your subtle glare. 
he’s having way too much fun with this. 
you pinch his side hard, a small bout of victory washing over you as he flinches.
deserved.
“we’re coming up on three months now?” beomgyu speaks through slightly gritted teeth before looking back up at the short woman, sending a charming smile her way. she squeals, bouncing on her heels and you bite back a grimace at the sheer volume.
“we decided to travel a bit before settling down and buying a home here in seoul,” you speak robotically, following the exact script you both came up with in your notes app on facetime last night. beomgyu hums in affirmation, tapping your side in a silent “good job”.
“awe! how sweet is that? what a wonderful idea to travel together while you're still young and nimble, unlike this old lady right here.” the lady honks out a laugh as she points to herself with her thumbs. you glance over at beomgyu who seems to be having the time of his life and—the regret of saying yes quickly settles deep in your bones. “you pair are such a lovely and beautiful couple!”
her high-pitched and overly enthusiastic voice pierces your ears and you can already feel the headache coming on.
“well, what can i say? it was love at first sight. i knew i had to make her mine and see the world with her as soon as possible,” beomgyu smoothly recites, gazing back down at you with the same look as before. you feel the bile rise in your throat. the words are so foreign to your ears, it’s almost jarring. the lady doesn’t even notice your discomfort and continues on and on about how cute you both are, how you remind her of her niece, and how beomgyu should totally be a model.
you force the fakest smile ever as beomgyu pinches your side, a cue for you to speak up. resisting the urge to punch him for pinching you (even though you had done it first), you simply nod along with an artificial laugh, your hand coming up to rest on his chest in faux infatuation.
ew. 
“marrying beomgyu was the best decision i’ve ever made. i’ve never been happier.” 
you swear you feel your eye twitch as the lady coos—she claps her hands excitedly, her short bob bouncing with the movement.
“how heartwarming! i’m sure this trip will bring you even closer, shedding a new light on the glitter of your love for decades to come!”
you and beomgyu are silent for a beat—because what the fuck is she even saying?—before awkwardly laughing, nodding along in hopes that she’ll wrap this up quickly. the lady’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as a stiffness fills the air, clapping her hands again as he ushers you two towards the lyft.
“better get a move on so you don’t miss your flight! i hope you have a wonderful time, lovebirds! and congratulations once again!”
the car is absolutely silent as you both settle in after all of your luggage is loaded up. beomgyu has this annoying, close-lipped smile on his face, his lips pursed like a duck—he’s so obviously trying to hold in his laughter as you grumble under your breath, snatching that stupid plastic ring off of your finger. 
you glance at him before rolling your eyes. “go ahead.”
in the blink of an eye, his boisterous laughter fills the car, high and squeaky, and you silently empathize with the lyft driver who subtly turns the radio up to combat the intrusive noise. beomgyu’s doubled over, patting his leg as he gasps for air, eyes squeezed shut; and as much as you hate to admit it, your own lips quirk up into a small smile at the sound. curse your best friend and his contagious laughter.
“i can’t believe we just did that,” beomgyu heaves out before another round of giggles leaves his lips. he reaches up to push his hair out of his face before wiping at his eyes dramatically. 
“i didn’t think i had it in me,” you agree, giving in to the grin that slowly spreads across your face. you make the horrible decision of meeting beomgyu’s eyes, and it takes less than a millisecond for you both to aggressively burst out laughing, bodies falling against each other's as your limbs grow weak.
“no, that was the funniest shit ever, i swear. we sold it.”
“for a second, i actually thought you were really in love with me.” your laughter slowly dies down as beomgyu lifts himself off of you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath. you’re sure you don’t look any better—you definitely have abs after all of that.
“i just had to pretend that you were i.u,” beomgyu admits with an overexaggerated dreamy look off into the distance. you’re quick to fall into another fit of laughter but for a different reason this time.
“i.u doesn’t date freaks.”
beomgyu’s lips dramatically pout as he crosses his arms over his chest like a little kid, scoffing at your comment. “why do you always have to crush my dreams?”
“i don’t always crush your dreams. only when they’re stupid.”
“so… always?”
“no—yes.”
beomgyu’s quiet for a moment, turning his head to look out the window. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, but the expression quickly smooths out as he turns towards you, uncrossing his arms to play with the fake ring on his finger.
“i’m not taking the couch.”
“what?” 
“it’s a couple’s suite. i’m taking the bed since i’m the one who entered us in the first place.”
you resist the urge to roll your eyes again—your mother had told you that one day your eyeballs would get stuck in the back of your head, and right now, that idea didn’t seem so bad. beomgyu’s teasing smile is anger-inducing, and you think you might rip it off if you have to look at it any longer. 
“what happened to chivalry? i’m your wife now, so as the man, you have to give me the bed.”
“fuck chivalry! you’re mean to me. i owe you nothing,” beomgyu huffs, squinting his eyes at you.
“i’m not mean to you,” you immediately defend, hitting his arm for even making such heinous accusations. beomgyu gasps, reaching up to hold his arm where you made impact.
“see? mean!”  once again, the dramatics are almost admirable—there’s no way that hurt. he’s been hitting the gym with his roommate taehyun lately, and you’ve seen the way he’s bulked up from the scrawny shrimp boy he used to be in high school. if anything, the hit hurt you!
“let’s play rock paper scissors, then. two out of three gets the bed.”
beomgyu huffs, but obediently holds up his fist. “fine.”
three games pass by in a blur.
“you cheated!” he whines, pointing his finger at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.
“how did i cheat? just admit you suck ass, mr. couch.” your triumphant smile results in another whine from the loser next to you, putting his fist back up for a rematch. “no, i already won!”
“you’re lucky i love you.” beomgyu’s quick to give up, a tiny smile appearing on his face at the way you pretend to gag at his words.
those butterflies in your stomach are only because you skipped breakfast that morning—totally not because of the soft gaze he sends your way, mindlessly playing with the plastic ring on his finger as you two fall into a comfortable silence. totally.
this sucks.
today is the first time you’ve ever ridden in first class, and you can’t even enjoy it because of the exhaustion running rampant through your veins. there’s a reason why you picked all afternoon and late night lectures; why you avoid any invitations to go out for breakfast with your friends; and why you have blackout curtains on all of your windows. you are not a morning person, whatsoever, and with that 8 a.m interview and your flight at 10 on the dot, you’re absolutely beat.
for starters, pretending to actually be in love with your best friend in front of a lady who cannot speak at a normal, human volume is more taxing than swimming from portugal to australia with no breaks. you swear. second, beomgyu has apparently never ridden an airplane before and therefore has no idea what airport etiquette is. 
(“you have to put all of your electronics in the bins, okay?”
“when i go through the x-ray thing, will they see my underwear? oh my god, no, will they see my dick?”
“no, they won’t see your dick, beomgyu.”
“but how do you know they won’t see my dick? sick fucks.”
“they’re literally doing their job, beomgyu.”
“they can do their job without looking at my dick!”
“they aren’t going to see your dick!”
the lady in front of you covers her kid's ears as she shoots you two the nastiest glare you’ve ever seen. you both bow in apology before you flick beomgyu on the back of his neck.)
you can barely keep your eyes open as you watch some marvel movie on the little screen in front of you, fighting to at least stay awake long enough to order dinner. it’s futile, though, because you’re already blacking out every few minutes, head lulling side to side like a bobblehead. 
you finally give up the battle, reminding yourself that there will be endless food at the resort, so you settle yourself into your plush seat, resting your cheek against your neck pillow. from this angle, you have a perfect view of beomgyu who’s in the secluded seat next to you, and—oh.
he looks… he looks softer than usual, only illuminated by the natural light emerging through the circular windows. his hair is slightly mussed from his fingers, his long fringe hanging over his eyes in such a way that he has to keep shaking it out of his vision. he has his earbuds in, watching the sky through the tiny window next to him with his bottom lip in between his teeth—a habit he’s had since he was young. you know he’s thinking, lost in his mind abyss by the way his fingers fidget with the end of his shirt, his leg shaking incessantly.
“hey, gyu,” you call out quietly so as to not disturb anyone else around you. his music must’ve been turned down low, seeing as his eyes find yours at the call of his name, taking an earbud out to hear you better. “you okay?”
if there’s one thing you know about your best friend, it’s when he’s nervous. it shows with the way his leg doesn’t stop moving, even as he nods out a yes in reply to your question, seeing his jaw move as he grinds his teeth together. 
“the plane keeps shaking,” he whispers, eyes wide and worried as a little bit of turbulence rocks the cabin right after he finishes speaking. even in your tired state, you can’t help but laugh softly at his animated expression, shaking your head.
“are you scared?” the teasing tone in your voice is apparent—beomgyu rapidly shakes his head in disagreement, but you see right through him as his hand grips the armrest, eyebrows knitted together. everything in your nature tells you to tease him, rile him up a bit, poke fun at him—but he genuinely looks concerned, and you’re too tired to come up with anything witty to say. instead…
“it’s just turbulence. you’re okay, gyu.”
you watch the way beomgyu relaxes ever so slightly, nodding his head as his grip loosens. you send him a little smile, not bothering to wait for him to smile back before turning your head the other way, finally letting sleep pull you under.
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[FREE MARGARITAS.]
you don’t get a single moment to look around the resort because as soon as you both lug all of your things into your suite, you’re told a romantic, candle-lit dinner on the beach just down the hill has been reserved for you two as a welcome gift by the company. you’re not complaining of course, but you still would’ve liked to at least get acquainted with the area before indulging in everything.
it takes you an hour and a half to get ready; partially because beomgyu’s showers take forever. he’s in there singing along to some random 70s hits playlist, having the time of his life, while you take the time to look around the suite. 
it’s huge, to say the least. a single pod building that sits on a hill full of others alike with pristine white walls and elegant decoration—it’s almost 3 times bigger than your own apartment and you can only imagine how much all of this would’ve cost. wide, open windows line the walls with marbled tile underneath your feet, the furniture ranging from white to beige to a palette of blues, mimicking the colors of the beach in the distance.
outside is a wide patio with a glistening pool and comfy lounge area, complete with a loveseat and a swing. it has the perfect view of the coast, the sun already lowering behind the horizon. it’s absolutely breathtaking, and you make sure to take plenty of pictures, even posting a few on your instagram story (without tagging beomgyu, because you’re pissed at how long he’s taking in the bathroom.)
by the time he comes out, his hair is blow-dried and pushed out of his face with a headband. he looks like casper the friendly ghost with the white facemask he adorns and you stifle a laugh at the thought. 
you force yourself to dismiss the way he only has a towel wrapped around his waist, chest completely bare as he strides over to his suitcase—he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence as he pulls out the most formal thing he can find, dropping it onto the bed.
“you gonna shower or what?” he asks over his annoyingly broad shoulder, hands reaching down to undo the towel around his waist. a yelp leaves your lips at the sudden movement, covering your eyes as you rush towards the bathroom.
“you’re disgusting!” you yell before slamming the door shut, locking it for good measure. his cackles ring throughout the suite and you flick him off from behind the wall—he can’t see it, but you want to at least get it out of your system.
halfway through your shower, you realize you forgot to bring your clothes into the bathroom to change. you blame this all on beomgyu—half because somehow every inconvenience in your life is all his fault and half because you just want a reason to ignore the way you keep thinking about how toned he’s gotten recently. you mentally make it your mission to shut down every single gym in his vicinity.
you wrap your towel tight around your body before cracking the door open, the cool air from the a/c attacking your skin like icicles. poking your head out, you scan the room for any sign of your counterpart, but the room seems to be completely empty. you wait a few seconds, just in case he decides to make any unannounced appearances before deeming the room safe enough to enter. the coast is clear.
you rush over to your suite case, unzipping it to find an appropriate dress, deciding on a white one to match the white button-up beomgyu had pulled out. you grab your makeup bag, as well as your perfume and it isn’t until you stand back up to find refuge in the bathroom that you notice the figure in the doorway. you jump in surprise, a small scream escaping your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself defensively. 
“you fucking stalker,” you huff as he doubles over in laughter. 
“oh my god, you should’ve seen your face,” he gasps, holding his hand to his stomach as his entire body vibrates with cackles. despite the venomous glare you send his way, your eyes can’t help but catch onto the fact that beomgyu cleans up nicely. 
you’ve gotten so used to beomgyu’s endless collection of sweatpants and hoodies that the thought of him looking like an a-list celebrity never once crossed your mind. the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest, appropriately decorated with a few layered necklaces. it seems like he decided to trade out his usual dangly earrings and ear piercings for simple studs that shine when the chandelier above you hits them. 
those black dress pants hug his legs in a way that makes you swallow, feeling your body grow warm at the way he tucks his hands into his pockets. he cocks his head at you curiously, a jesting smile on his lips—he looks infuriatingly good, to the point where you have to physically rip your eyes away from him.
“like what you see?” he badgers while he strolls into the room, as if he can see right through your little facade. you scoff, holding your stuff tight to your chest as you flee towards the bathroom again. 
“what happened to privacy?” you make sure to completely ignore his previous question—he can tell all too easily when you’re lying, and you really don’t feel like being teased relentlessly tonight.
“what’s the issue? you’re my wife now, aren’t you?” his voice is provoking, playful as you burn through him with another intense glare.
“beomgyu, i promise you, i will drown you in that pool if you say another word.” and then you happily slam the door shut in his face.
“no, you won’t! you love me too much,” he singsongs from behind the door. all you can do is roll your eyes because—yes. yes, you do.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen beomgyu act so… gentlemanly ever since he tried to get his 6th grade crush to like him back—but this time, without the weird phrases he stole from western movies and the electric blue braces that lined his teeth.
he’s committed to this husband act; pulling your chair out for you and pushing you in after you take a seat, kissing the back of your hand (you kicked him under the table at that), and even telling you that you look, and you quote, “absolutely stunning, baby.”
you hope your discontentment isn’t showing too obviously through your forced smiles and giggles, that plastic wedding band around your ring finger uncomfortably sticking to your skin. 
you can’t deny the fact that the dinner is really nice, though. never in your life would you have thought you’d be drinking expensive wines and eating 5-star cuisine on a beach with your childhood best friend—you’re pretty sure 14-year-old y/n would’ve complained about how it should’ve been choi soobin from 4th period instead of beomgyu, but you’ll take what you can get.
in all honesty, it simply feels like a normal dinner out with your best friend. you both still laugh and joke as usual, reminiscing on the time when beomgyu forgot to take out his retainer before his band performed at the school festival in 10th grade, resulting in a slurred rendition of sk8er boi by avril lavigne and a crowd full of giggling onlookers. (if you had to threaten a few people to leave beomgyu alone about it afterward, then so be it.)
the thing is, it’s not hard to let go around beomgyu. you’ve known each other since you were in diapers; defending beomgyu from bullies in elementary, attending all of his self-made band’s concerts, and hanging out on your rooftop eating popsicles and gummy worms. you could complain all you’d like about his teasing, his constant, exuberated nature, and his inane questions, but there’s no one else that you’d put your life on the line for, other than the puppy-like man in front of you.
his eyes sparkle with the reflection of the candlelight as he rambles on about how he genuinely thought planes did a loopty-loop before taking off and your heart aches with a sort of warmth you’ve been trying to dismiss for so long. 
the dinner ends all too quickly, and by the time you down your last glass, you realize you’re slightly tipsy. you’ve always been a lightweight, but you really didn’t think you drank that much—you must’ve been too distracted by beomgyu’s crazy stories to acknowledge the waiter constantly filling your glass after every few sips. at least it was free.
you slightly wobble on your heels as you take a stand in the sand, a little noise of surprise leaving your lips as a warm hand meets your hip, swiftly steadying you. you look down and automatically recognize the amazon ring, your head turning to meet beomgyu’s gentle eyes.
“don’t tell me i have to carry you all the way back.” and even though it’s a joke, there’s a layer of genuineness in his tone as you stumble again.
“‘m not that drunk,” you reply with the slightest of slurs, quietly giggling at the simple image of beomgyu carrying you bridal style to the bed. now that would truly sell the act, for sure. beomgyu shakes his head with a small smile, but his hand doesn’t leave your waist as he guides you back towards the suite, his touch firm and sturdy. 
you’re almost across the beach when you stumble again, but this time, your heel actually gives out as you trip, a tiny yelp leaving your lips right before you hit the ground. you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact—but it never comes.
“yep. i’m carrying you.”
you crack an eye open to see beomgyu with an amused smile on his face, both of his hands holding onto your hips. turns out you weren’t even close to hitting the ground at all… okay, maybe you are drunk.
“piggy back ride?” you ask with a little giggle. you’re reminded of that time beomgyu had to give you a piggyback ride all the way back home from the park after you sprained your ankle trying to do a backflip off of the swing in elementary school. what a time.
beomgyu rolls his eyes fondly, but gives you a little nod, letting go of your waist to kneel down by your feet. “give me your foot.”
you give him a quizzical look, cocking your head at him in pure confusion before he pats his thigh, motioning towards your leg. still a bit out of it, you hold onto his shoulder as you lift your foot, feeling a weird sensation rush up your spine at the way he gently holds onto your calf to slip your heel off of your foot. he does the same to the other without a word, completely unfazed by the way your mouth remains slightly ajar in shock. his fingers are gentle and soothing against your skin, despite being mildly calloused from his guitar back home.
it’s enough to throw you off, swallowing as his eyes meet yours again. his eyes are incredibly soft as he smiles up at you—he motions towards his back with a quiet “hop on”.
you obey, only faltering slightly as your arms sling around his shoulders. with the new proximity, you can smell his cologne, something sweet and woodsy. his hands grab onto your thighs—one decorated with high heels hanging off two of his fingers—before hiking you up a bit. he begins walking, saying something about how he thinks there’s 10 tons of sand in his shoes by now—and if he notices you’re too distracted by his hands on your legs to process what he’s saying, he doesn’t mention it.
the view is absolutely breathtaking through the glass tall windows of your suite, the rays bouncing off of the pool as you watch beomgyu wade in the water, his eyes shut. it’s weird seeing him like this—fully relaxed, calm, and still. 
it seems like ever since you met beomgyu, all chubby-cheeked and busy-bodied, he’s always been on the move. whether it be to sprint down the road to meet you at the corner so you can walk to school together, or high in the air as he jumps on your trampoline… and even when his body is physically still, his mouth still runs a mile a minute, talking about anything and everything in the entire universe, letting his thoughts run wild around you.
as much as you truly do adore his silly side, him being the main reason why you were able to break out of your shell in the first place, you can’t help but be slightly fascinated with this alternate side of him.
it’s morning now; the yellowish-white hue of the blinding sun bounces off of his skin as he soaks up the moment, his brown hair getting so long it falls down the back of his neck in soft layers. you feel like a creep, watching him like this, but something about the entire atmosphere makes your eyes unable to look away as you slowly sip on the complimentary margaritas. 
your best friend has always been attractive—that’s one thing you cannot deny. he’s had his fair share of flings, and partners (and even a throuple once) throughout the years while you’ve only endured a few situationships here and there. he’s been called handsome his entire childhood and well into his adult years, taking the compliment in stride. he never let it get to his head or fuel his ego, though; for some reason, that fact makes him even more appealing.
he’s always just been your best friend, and you both are incredibly okay with that label—you know each other best, and that’s all that really matters. never mind the way his eyelashes flutter like monarch butterflies, or the way his cheeks flush when it’s too cold outside, or the way his leg bounces when he’s excited or nervous, alike. you try to ignore the way his laughter always manages to make the sun come out, and the way he always orders for you at restaurants because he knows you aren’t a fan of talking to strangers, and the way he seems always to know what you need, right when you need it.
he’s truly the yin to your yang. but there’s something else bubbling under the surface that you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to acknowledge yet. 
a loud call of your name grabs your attention, your vision focusing on a grinning beomgyu waving you down from the edge of the pool. you don’t even have it in you to huff at the prospect of moving from your comfortable lounge chair, standing up to make your way to the large patio. sliding the door open, you poke your head out, immediately feeling the muggy air of midday wrap around you like a heated blanket. 
“get in with me! the water is super warm,” he calls, motioning you towards him with his arm, the action flicking water everywhere. you frown a bit, looking at the pool behind him before meeting his eager eyes again.
“you know i can’t swim, idiot.” 
beomgyu’s smile doesn’t falter for a second as he shrugs, holding his hand out.
“then i’ll do the swimming for you.” 
the offer is so light-hearted and casual—it shouldn’t make your heart lunge in your chest, your gut twisting with anticipation at the simple implications of his words.
you’re already in your bathing suit from the mirror selfies you took for simply the aesthetic—a simple blue bikini tied tightly around your frame. you really don’t want to waste your time here; when else will you get the chance to stay in greece for free with your best friend? 
so you let your feet carry you to the stairs of the pool, your fingers wrapping around the metal railing as you slowly step in, foot by foot. by the time you’ve made it waist deep, you begin to feel the fear creep into your bones.
“i won’t let you drown, y/n,” beomgyu laughs as you suspiciously eye the deep end of the pool, unable to even see the bottom of it. your hand tightly grips the rail as beomgyu wades his way toward you, holding his hand out for you to take. “i promise. just hold on to me.”
you nibble on your lip as your eyes flicker down to his hand, feeling the water move gently around you. drowning has always been one of your biggest fears, and because of that, you’ve always stayed far away from any body of water capable of swallowing you up whole. 
but beomgyu’s eyes are warmer than the water, the most delicate of smiles resting on his soft features. there’s no room to be scared—not with the way his hand is so grounding as you take hold of it, squealing a bit as he tugs you closer. 
“do you trust me?” and when he speaks, his voice is just barely above a whisper, his face so close to yours that you can individually count his eyelashes. his margarita-tinted breath fans over your lips and you find yourself unable to cringe away, nodding cautiously in response. 
your hands tightly grasp his shoulders as he wraps a strong arm around your waist, holding you close to him as he uses his other arm to swim deeper into the pool. his doesn’t let up, even slightly, his grip sturdy around your figure as he utilizes one arm to keep you both afloat.
“here, wrap your legs around me,” he speaks, tapping your thigh under the water. you’re sure your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline, your mouth bobbing open and shut like a fish out of water.
“wha… huh?” you question oh, so eloquently, the rumble of beomgyu’s laughter transferring against your skin. his nose crinkles up in the way it always does when he finds something to be a bit too entertaining, his eyes forming those pretty crescent moons as his eyelashes tickle his cheeks.
“it’ll make this easier. i’m not trying to carry a dead weight,” beomgyu speaks as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. you’re still dumbfounded, blinking at him blankly—so he decides to take matters into his own hands, reaching down to situate you against him by himself. “there, that’s better.”
a persistent heat surges through your stomach as your brain slowly registers the position. beomgyu’s arm tightens around your waist as you adjust your hips in a way that makes your clothed core brush against his bulge. you almost see the way his eyes darken, his tongue peeking out to swipe over his bottom lip. it’s quiet, still as the distant sound of the beach’s waves and the gentle trickle of water fills in the silence. 
your arms slowly come up to wrap around his neck—you don’t know what possesses you; some weird entity that makes beomgyu’s lips look all too kissable, and his eyes sickeningly alluring. his adam’s apple bobs as his eyes flicker across your face. you don’t register the way he slowly wades you both toward the wall of the pool, effectively caging you in as your back gently presses against the tile.
you have the chance to run, to push him off of you, and go back inside—to pretend your core doesn’t pulse with want as he presses his entire body against you. his chest is warm and his eyes are blown out, and you can say no.
but you don’t want to.
his eyes search yours for something before they trail down to your lips, his hips meeting yours in a way that renders you slightly dizzy with the proximity. 
“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop, right now,” he whispers, his fingers leaving a ticklish feeling against your exposed skin under the water. you swallow.
“i want this, please.” and his lips are on yours before you can take another breath.
it’s nothing gentle; as if he’s been starved for your taste for all of eternity. the kiss is bruising as he nibbles on your bottom lip, his tongue meeting yours as you gasp into his mouth. he takes control easily, his hips moving against yours as the water moves around you, the sound mixing in with your quiet moans and beomgyu’s sparse grunts. 
he swallows all of your sounds, holding you down against him as he bucks up into your core, his dick hard and heavy in between your legs. you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist as you match his movement to the best of your ability. you’re nearly unable to think straight as he kisses the oxygen out of you, your mind growing hazy as pleasure shoots up your spine when he rubs against your clit just right.
beomgyu breaks the kiss to dive into your neck, sucking and biting small marks onto your unblemished skin before kissing over the soon-to-be marks. he can’t keep his mouth off of you as he trails his lips under your jaw, over your clavicle, nipping at your cleavage. your own voice sounds foreign in your ears as every lick and bite shoots straight to your core, feeling that knot in your gut tightens with every thrust.
“think you can cum just like this, hm? just from humping my cock?” beomgyu pants against your skin as his lips brush over your cheek, his breath fanning your ears. the head of beomgyu’s clothed dick catches onto your slit for the slightest of seconds, and you have to clench all of the muscles in your body to not cum on the spot.
“ye—yes, please don’t stop,” you whine, tilting your head back to invite his lips back to your neck. you’re sure you’re leaving marks on beomgyu’s shoulder blades from how hard your nails dig into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, it makes his hips work faster against yours, pressing you full-on against the pool walls. 
“so good for me, fuck.”
beomgyu kisses up your neck, a low groan leaving his lips at the way you’re bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat, clawing at his skin as your pussy clenches around nothing.
“gyu, ‘m—can i cum? please, please, please.” you can’t hold on anymore—not with the way beomgyu laughs against your skin, his free hand reaching up to grab your chin, forcing your lips against his again. he licks into your mouth with fervor, your teeth clashing together. your spit-slicked lips slide against each other, wet and messy, and he finally decides to take pity on you.
“go ahead, cum for me, baby.”
your brain goes blank as you finally come undone, blindly sinking into beomgyu’s lips and his faltering thrusts. your entire body tenses up as you moan against his lips, feeling like a ragdoll in the way he leaves soft kisses against your lax mouth. a low, rumbling groan emits from his chest as his hips still, twitching against yours subtly. he exhales once he finally pulls away from your swollen lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.
it takes a second for you both to catch your breaths and when you finally blink your eyes open, beomgyu’s puppy-like eyes are already on yours.
“you okay?” his voice oozes with a type of concern; care that feels all too intimate. his pupils are blown wide, alluring and deep as they scan your face. you nod with a small sigh, leaning forward to drop your head onto his shoulder. you feel his torso shake with a chuckle at the action, feeling an unnamed emotion run through your chest.
you don’t pay any mind to it, though. not while you're ruminating in a cum-contaminated body of water.
“we should probably call someone to clean the pool.” and the laughter that bubbles out of beomgyu’s mouth is enough to distract you, just for a moment.
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[I DO.]
it’s a weird, strange domestic feeling waking up to a fluffy head of brown hair resting on your shoulder, caged in by gentle arms around your waist. beomgyu’s always been a cuddler, and a week ago, you would’ve cringed at the simple thought of indulging him.
but now, a warm feeling blooms in your chest like a hydrangea as your fingers slip into his mussed hair to play with the strands. you’ve been cowed by your emotions, unable to fight off the fond smile that climbs onto your lips at the sight of the teddy bear-esque man clinging to you in his sleep. 
you don’t know what to do with all of these butterflies swarming in your chest, flapping against each other, kicking up a sandstorm of admiration that runs wild through your veins. he’s your best friend—and at this point in time, you know he’s more than that.
it’s crazy to think that romantic feelings can accumulate overnight, and you’re starting to suspect that maybe these feelings have existed all along. he’s the only one capable of rendering you speechless, whether it be from the crazy things he says or the way his eyes sparkle with a sense of youthfulness that tethers you two together. he’s the only one who can make you feel so carefree and in the moment—you don’t worry about the future or what’s to come with beomgyu. you simply enjoy the now, soaking up his blinding smiles and outlandish stories.
he’s waking up, you realize, as he mumbles under his breath, nuzzling closer to you. his lips brush your neck, his hair tickling your cheek in a way that makes your nose scrunch up with a small giggle. you feel drunk despite the fact that all of the alcohol has long dispersed in your body overnight—you blame it all on the fact that the sun sits high in the sky, shining kindly through the wide, open windows. it lights beomgyu up in a way that squeezes your heart painfully, the white sheets strewn across his waist making him look so soft and gentle.
“good morning,” you mumble with a tiny smile as beomgyu begins littering faint kisses against the expanse of your neck, brushing over the previous marks he’d left there yesterday. he simply hums in response, his arms loosening from around your waist to trail up the side of your body—his touch is so delicate, you let yourself get lost in the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he softly nips at your skin. 
he situates himself so that he’s hovering over you and you open your eyes again, feeling the sudden urge to shy away from his gaze. you’ve never seen such a look in his eyes—something so heavy and raw. as if he’s prying you apart and putting you back together again. it makes a shiver run up your spine.
“good morning, beautiful,” he finally replies and you can’t help but giggle again—you feel like a teenager, the way your stomach flutters at his morning voice, all deep and raspy and sultry. his brown eyes are half-lidded from sleep, his skin warm as his fingers brush your cheek.
the tension in the air isn’t incredibly prominent—it still lingers but with a less demanding presence. it’s natural and easy in the way it always is with beomgyu. existing with beomgyu is just so uncomplicated. 
you feel yourself melt into the sheets as he presses closer, molding himself into you perfectly—as if he was destined to be right here all along. his nose brushes yours as he leans in, and when his lips touch yours, any thoughts clouding your mind immediately disperse, making room for the sun itself. your arms come up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you, feeling his heartbeat against yours. you feel safe, lax, content; all things good in the world. 
his lips are unrushed as they move against yours, silently speaking a thousand words as he cups the side of your face, his hips subtly moving against yours. you sigh into his mouth, tilting your head to deepen the kiss—you don’t care about morning breath or the fact that you probably look a mess with your ridden-up shirt and tired eyes. and beomgyu doesn’t care either, licking into your mouth as if you’re a rare delicacy, grinding down against your thin panties. 
he’s half-hard in his pants, desperately rubbing against you to chase whatever pleasure he can get. it’s endearing almost, the way he moans into your mouth as you reach down to slip your fingers past his waistband to trail a light touch over his dick. his voice is deeper than normal, stirring something inside of you that makes your legs clamp around his hips.
“i want you, gyu,” you breathe out once his lips finally leave yours, pumping him slowly. his lips catch in between his teeth as your fingers run over the head of his dick, feeling your fingers coat with sticky precum.
“hm? gotta be more specific than that, gorgeous,” beomgyu teases despite the way he’s slowly thrusting into your hand, smiling down at you in a way that usually would’ve pissed you off—but right now, it only makes your pussy drip with want. 
“i want you inside of me. want you to fill me up,” you whine out as his fingers rub your clit over your panties, moving lower to press against your damp entrance. his resolve crumbles all too quickly as you peer up at him with your doe eyes, lips parted as you whine softly, moving your hips against his fingers. 
“fuck, okay baby.”
you let him move away to strip himself of his sparse clothing as you pull your shirt over your head. the butterflies return quickly as you realize this is the first time you’re seeing each other completely unclothed and—oh god. he’s huge. your half-asleep state didn’t realize the sheer amount of dick between your fingers, but now that you’re seeing it in the morning light, you aren’t even sure if it’ll fit.
beomgyu makes his way back over to you, his fingers hooking onto the band of your panties to drag them down your legs. his eyes are almost predatory as he takes in your glistening folds, unable to stop himself from running his fingers over your cunt, collecting your juices.
“you’re dripping,” he awes, his eyes flickering up to yours with a small smile. a heat rushes up your neck, shyly covering your face with both of your hands. beomgyu’s small laugh resonates throughout the room, feeling his clean hand come up to gently move your arms away.
when you meet his eyes again, they’re filled with a sort of fondness that makes your head spin, makes your heart stutter—it’s horrible and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips as his fingers return to your cunt, slightly dipping into your hole, soaking them even more.
“i want you to look at me. can you do that?” beomgyu gently requests and you’re nodding before you can fully register his words. he flashes you a proud smile before he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean of your juices. an airy, surprised moan leaves your body against your will at the sight, and his smile broadens. “you taste amazing, baby.”
his middle finger enters your entrance with no resistance, and you feel yourself clench down as he curls it upwards to gently explore your walls. it’s all too much and not enough all at once. he’s going incredibly slow, as if you two have all the time in the world, but you can’t wait. you need him now.
“please, just fuck me. ‘m ready,” you demand through a whine, pleading with your eyes, an action that effectively softens beomgyu's gaze. he doesn’t remove his finger, but instead adds another alongside it, his thumb coming to brush against your clit. you buck against his hand with a small moan as he moves up your body, trailing kisses from your hipbone, to your breasts, and finally your lips.
it’s a chaste peck, but it’s enough to leave you wanting more, chasing after his lips once he pulls back. you whine at the loss, already feeling your brain turn to mush with the way his fingers slowly drag against the walls of your cunt, his thumb just barely applying pressure to your swollen nub.
“are you sure?” 
“yes, yes, ‘m sure. want your cock, gyu. just—” you’re nearly hysterical as your hips grind down on his fingers. you can already feel the frustrated tears brimming your eyelashes, reaching up to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his. “please, please…”
“shh. it’s okay, baby,” beomgyu coos, pressing a few soft kisses to your lips. you quietly gasp as he removes his fingers from your hole. he kisses your cheeks all too delicately, his forearm resting by your head to steady himself. “i’ll take care of you. just relax.”
you almost cry happy tears with the way you feel the head of his cock tease your hole, dipping in but not fully entering. his lips find yours again as he drags his dick in between your sopping folds, swallowing his low moan at the feeling. “my perfect girl. so pretty, so wet for me.”
when he pushes in, your arms tighten around his neck, your enter body locking up at the intrusion. you feel like a virgin again, his girth stretching you open almost uncomfortably. his thumb rubs your hips to soothe you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss to distract you from the feeling. he stops for a second, letting you get used to his dick as he peppers kisses across your face.
“fuck, it feels like you’re splitting me in half,” you blurt out and beomgyu can’t help but laugh softly, his forehead resting against yours. “i think i can feel you in my throat.”
“can you stop making me laugh so i can fuck you stupid, please?”
his words are lighthearted, but the thought of being fucked to the point where you can’t even speak has you shutting up in no time. you whine quietly as beomgyu continues pushing into you until he’s fully situated inside of your cunt—you’re fluttering around him like crazy, feeling the faint pain slowly dispersing into pleasure as he kisses your jaw.
“you can move now,” you mumble, and beomgyu wastes no time pulling out, almost all the way, just to snap his cock back into you with a force that rocks the bed slightly. you can’t cover up the choked-out gasp that leaves your lips, eventually turning into a stream of moans and whines as he quickly sets a brutal pace. 
his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust, your mind clouding over as pleasure fills your bloodstream, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. he places one last kiss on your lips before sitting up, both of his hands moving wrapping around your thighs. you’re so wet that his dick easily glides in and out of you, wet, squelching sounds filling the room as you drip around him. 
“you’re so tight, god. letting me fuck you raw like the needy slut you are,” he chastizes, groaning as he pulls your body in to meet his hips. his strokes are so deep, you already feel yourself nearing your high.
“yes, yes, yes. need you,” you cry out, hands gripping the sheets. “so big, gyu. ‘s too much, i can’t—” 
“you were the one crying for my cock, so you better take it.” his sudden demeanor change sends a tingly rush up your spine, leaving your brain a muddled mess. his bangs have fallen into his eyes, his cheekbones flushed with a slight pink from the physical exertion and the warmth of the sun beaming through the windows. his stomach contracts with every thrust into your wet heat, low moans and sharp gasps leaving his lips as his eyes fall shut, his head lolling back at the feeling.
your core throbs, gut tightening with every passing moment—at some point, he brings his fingers down to circle your clit, whimpers leaving your mouth at the overwhelming feeling of it all. you clench down around him, hand stretching out for something, anything; and it only takes a few seconds for beomgyu to notice. his fingers interlace with yours, giving your hand a grounding squeeze.
“gonna fill you up—gonna make a mess of this pretty pussy,” beomgyu pants out, a low moan leaving his lips as his hips slightly stutter.
“‘m gonna cum, gyu, ‘m cumming,” you babble out, your head rolling to the side as your eyes shut, the immense pleasure coursing through your body becoming all too much. somewhere through your muffled ears, you hear beomgyu praising you for taking him so well, but by that point, you’re already gone. 
the moan that leaves your lips is nearly pornagraphic, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your orgasm washes over you. all the air is punched out of your lungs and beomgyu thrusts deep into you before settling there, a low groan leaving his lips as his dick twitches inside of you.
“fuck, baby, i love you. i love you so much,” he breathes out as he cums—you feel the hot streaks of his cum painting your insides, shooting places you weren’t even sure existed inside of you. it leaves your mind hazy, unable to even process the way he pulls out, his cum dripping out of you and onto the white sheets.
the feeling of a hot, wet tongue against your entrance makes your hips buck up—you let out a surprised gasp that’s quickly overtaken by a whimper, your hand reaching to entangle itself in his hair.
“wait, gyu—fuck, i’m sensitive,” you whine, feeling your eyes brim with tears at the overstimulation. his tongue flicks against your abused cunt as he cleans up his own cum, fucking it back into you with his tongue. 
“you can take it, baby. i know you can,” he pants against your pussy before his lips encircle your clit, sucking and nibbling ever so slightly. you can’t control the noise leaving your lips, whining and moaning as your legs clamp around his head. beomgyu simply chuckles against you before two of his fingers enter your pussy, teasing and prodding at your sentive walls.
“gyu, i can’t, i can’t…” you sob, tears running down your cheeks as the overstimulation sends painful shocks up your spine. you’re gushing around his tongue, the sheets beneath you completely soaked through. your brain fights against itself, your body unsure of whether to press closer or pull away. you can’t think about anything other than beomgyu’s fingers and mouth, eyes squeezed shut as your body racks with sobs.
“yes, you can. cum on my tongue, pretty girl.”
and you do, your back arching as you moan loudly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as your hips frot against his face, waves of pleasure washing over you, drowning you. your entire body trembles with shocks as your mind goes blank, flopping back onto the bed as you attempt to catch your breath. tears are still running down your cheeks—your entire body feels like it’s floating. you’re completely wrung out. that was probably the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.
you don’t even register beomgyu’s soft hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears away, his lips pressing against your forehead, your nose; anywhere his lips can reach. it’s grounding as you slowly come back down to earth.
“you did so well for me, baby. so, so perfect. so beautiful. you took it all, i’m so proud of you.”
you blink your eyes open at his words, feeling those butterflies flock with the way he’s watching you so attentively, his eyes flitting across your face quickly. 
“i didn’t go too far, did i?” beomgyu’s voice is almost nervous, low and quiet in your ear as he strokes the side of your face. you crack a small smile at how cute he looks, reaching up to brush some of the hair out of his eyes.
“no, not at all. i liked it,” you reassure, your fingers trailing down his neck, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. he visibly melts into your touch at the words, shoulders slumping in relief. 
“thank god,” he breathes out, slumping on top of you—you half-heartedly protest, but the weight is nice, loving the way it feels to have his chest rise and fall against yours, his head resting in the crook your neck. you wrap your arms around him with a little giggle, pressing a kiss to his hair.
“you big baby,” you tease. he’s completely unbothered, though, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder before settling against you again.
“only around you.”
the quiet is relaxing, hearing the calm waves of the beach down the hill and the slight buzz of the air conditioner. as much as your brain wants to believe that you imagined it, his words from a few moments ago ring like a mantra in your head. words that make your chest tight, and your mind spin, and your stomach flutter. having him in your arms like this makes you sure that what you heard wasn’t made up in your mind.
“you said you love me.”
a beat of silence.
“hm?” he hums inquisitively as if he didn’t hear you correctly the first time.
“when you, um—when you… came…” you whisper the last part, feeling the vibrations of beomgyu’s laugh fill your own chest.
“you’re still shy after all of that?” beomgyu asks incredulously as he lifts his head to look at you. a tiny, playful smile sits on his lips and you pout, nudging him softly.
“stop changing the topic!” beomgyu laughs again as he relaxes back into your hold.
“okay, i did say i love you. because i do. i love you.”
the words hit you deeper this time, now that your mind is clear—he sounds so sure of himself, and the confidence seeps into you, confirming your own feelings that have been threatening to spill over these last few days.
“i love you too.” you pause for a second. “ like, love love you.” 
beomgyu chuckles against your skin, his arms tightening around your frame as he nuzzles in closer to you, despite already being skin to skin. he’s cute, you think.
“i’d hope ‘love love’ is what we’re talking about right now,” he speaks almost sarcastically and you lightly tug his hair for being a smartass—you get the opposite reaction you were searching for though because beomgyu dramatically moans at the action just to rile you up even more.
“oh my god, you’re insufferable,” you huff, but the smile on your face is telling enough as he lifts his head once again to meet your eyes—his hair is all messy and strewn about, lips bitten red and raw, cheeks flushed; and that fact that you’re in love with your best friend full sinks in. he’s everything to you.
“but you love me.”
you sigh.
“yea. i do.”
a blinding smile breaks out on beomgyu’s lips as he leans in to peck yours a few times, your body melting as he kisses you with so many emotions, it makes your heart get caught in your throat, your skin buzzing with contentment. 
he pulls away, sitting up to climb off the bed, searching for his sweatpants.
“come on. time for me to do my husband duties and run you a bath.”
“you’re still comitting to this, huh?” you giggle as you sit up too, watching his figure retreat towards the bathroom. beomgyu turns slightly, the smile on his lips absolutely menacing.
“so? i gotta practice for the future.”
your future, you brain tells you.
and that idea isn't so bad, you think.
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reblogs and feedback are highly cherished!
tags! @grayscorner @banggyu0308 @huckleberrykai @agustdiv1ne @yunhorights @nes-caf @1921choi
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romanreignseater · 8 months
Text
This Is Cinema.
Jey Uso x Black Female Reader
Rating: 18+
Warning: Smut; consensual pornography & rough times 🤫.
“You know what they say about the Bloodline, them boys make CINEMA!!”
A/N: That Jimmy fic is on hold until further notice 😤 (that boy made me so mad). I do have another Jey fic, but this was TOOO good for me to not upload first!! Hope you enjoy 💋!!”
GIF: @jeygif
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Another day of work, another asshole to deal with.
Or so you thought.
Working as “pornstar”, but your preferred term of “adult film star”, was something you didn’t see yourself doing when you were a teen. The idea of getting nude in front of a camera with loads of crew surrounding as you do something that seems so sacred was weird to you back then. But, once college didn’t work out, you had other plans.
One of your homegirls who started off doing porn and soon ventured into the world of OnlyFans gave you the idea to start. And honestly… it was one of the best decisions you’ve made!!
You were soon living lavishly in Tampa, Florida, with $6 million to your name, the most gorgeous mansion, a brand new bright pink Range Rover, the cutest teacup poodle named Rex, food in your fridge, and bills paid. All in under a year.
Regardless of what people may say about you on the internet… sweetheart they were paying your bills.
You were working with some of the best in the industry and millions of views on those videos. Your career seemed to be at its pinnacle, but your manager informed you that there was a group of men starting off in the industry and absolutely taking over. In a little over five months, they were rated the top pornstars in the world.
Hundreds of millions of views on each of their videos and numerous women wanting to start a career just to be able to be near them. Working with them would not only boost your career even further, but to get a chance to fuck a handsome ass Samoan, yes please. In the words of your manager, “We gotta get that dick.”
An interesting choice of words, but you trusted every piece of advice she gave you. Soon, you were on a flight to the ATL to meet up with one of the members of the infamous group.
Doing your research the night prior to your flight, there were three brothers and a cousin. Roman, the cousin, was the oldest and definitely the biggest. A set of twins, Jimmy and Jey, and their younger brother, Solo, who didn’t look so little.
Roman was the one who wasn’t the most booked, as he only worked with the best of the best. Viewers only seeing his work every once in a while. But, when he dropped a video you knew it was gonna be heat. The absolute passion in his strokes and darkness in his eyes made you bite your lip at his raw manly magnitude.
Jimmy was fairly booked, with his whole month practically full. Most of his content involved acting with a lot of backstory. Really diving deep into massive rounds of role play and foreplay. That boy didn’t play games once that time came around though.
Next was Solo. He was working with a lot of underground stars and still reaching the levels of the ones older than him. Yet, he picked up those levels quick. Reaching the heights of his family and making women reach their climax at the same time.
But, the one who really caught your eyes was Jey. He was the definition of your ideal man. His warm-looking tan skin, his beautiful curly mullet, sexy ass style, big meaty thighs and muscles, and those grills. The way he fucked made you shrivel in your panties. He was a beast with a lot of mouth, just the way you liked it. His style consisted more of an interview at the beginning with a little foreplay and then straight to business. Asking girls about what turns them on the most and what he’s gonna do to them. Making each and every woman who set foot near him blush heavily.
And let’s not get started about that dick.
Definitely a 9-incher, big and heavy looking balls that laid nicely underneath his cock. A luscious pink mushroom tip, with meaty veins that trailed down to his trimmed hair. Now, it’s getting really hot and the thoughts of what he could do to you couldn’t stop dancing around your head.
After some more internet stalking, the time flew by and your flight approached.
Knowing that he stayed in ATL made you absolutely happy. Your manager wouldn’t let you know who exactly you’d be working with, but as soon as you saw your ticket, you knew you were in for a treat and rude awakening.
Dressing your absolute best in a grey Skims shirt and matching miniskirt, that barely covered your ass… perfect.
Wig secured down by some industrial glue and an opt out for the lashes, knowing they’d come off. But, mascara is a must.
On your way there, you couldn’t contain the excitement you felt. Watching some of his work that night before and earlier that day, you knew what he liked, how he acted, and how he wanted it. All the little things that made him tick and shiver.
You were seriously on demon time.
Even though, you felt as though you were throughly experienced and quite the pro. The flashing lights and big cameras still made you very nervous. In the beginning, your parents weren’t very supportive, but once they saw you had a roof over your head and food to eat, that’s all that mattered to them. But, sometimes the days didn’t get any easier. Luckily, your manager was a real one and knew how to calm you down.
After meeting all members of the crew, and the camera and director you and Jey would be working closely with today, you got touched up as you awaited Jey’s arrival.
“Nervous?!” The makeup artist asked you. Laughing slightly, you nonchalantly ignored your jitters and told her you were fine. All that anxious behavior would only arise and the man of the hour arrived.
He looked absolutely scrumptious in a pair of white joggers and a white Nike Tech with no shirt on underneath. His Cuban link chains shining in the sunlight and his cross earring dangling from his one ear.
Your cunt just throbbed at the sight of him. “Hello Ms. Y/N?! Is anyone in there?!” Completely zoned out and you didn’t even realize it, Jey waved his big hand in your face to catch your attention. His dimple prominent as he was quite amused by your expression.
“Hey Jey nice to meet you. Sorry… I just zoned out for a second.” Reaching out to shake his hand, he kindly refused. “It’s no problem, but I don’t shake hands I’m more of a hugger.” Flustered by his comment you arose from your chair and were soon enveloped into his burly arms.
His arms were thick and wrapped around your waist securely, his warm chest pressed against yours, as you felt your nipples harden. The feeling of his semi-hard dick rest against your thigh made you bit your lip and hold your arms around his neck tighter. “You out here showing out, I see you and your little miniskirt.” Spinning you around at 180 degrees, he stopped when your back faced his front.
Obviously entertained by his comments, you decided to show out a little more. Bending over slightly and giving him a little shake, Jey took the opportunity to give your ass an ample smack. “Uh oh, we got a lotta chemistry over here, don’t we?!” The producer of our film walked over to us as we were sharing a moment.
Both of us blushed at the producers comments. Damn right we have chemistry, but we really are gonna see once those cameras turn on. “But, we need more of that on the screen, so let’s get filming.” Turning back around to you, Jey gave you a wet kiss on the cheek and winked at you as he headed to the living room.
He is something else.
————————————————————————
“In 5, 4, 3, 2… 1.”
“Alright, well look at who we have here. We got the Queen of Screams, Y/N in the building. And the Leader Beater, Jey.” Both of us have a wave and proper introduction to the camera as we laughed at the names the producer gave us.
“I just gotta say you guys just sitting next to each other is already a movie.”
“Maybe I need to move a little more closer to him then.” Snuggling up by his side as gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead.
Jey’s arm was placed on the back of the couch with his legs fully spread, giving a beautiful of his already hard dick. You crossed you legs to staf off that feeling of what he would do to you tonight.
“You already know what it is Uce. I got one of the baddest in the game next to me and I’ve been waiting to get my hands on that ass.”
“Ooooo, Jey got all the smoke about you Y/N. You know that ass is viral!!”
Rolling you eyes slightly, you casually smirked as you began to open your mouth. “I got all the smoke behind him too. I’ve been waiting to dig into him for a while.” Your hand left your right thigh as you palmed him through his white sweats, feeling all of his girth.
“Okayyy, Jey how we feeling about that?!!”
“I’m feeling real good about that Uce. Like the feeling is only rising from here.” Removing your hand from his length, you put your head down as you laughed at his comment.
“She bout to be a REALLLL problem Uce!!” Jey’s hand traveled from the back of the couch to your ass as he palmed and massaged it. Returning the favor, you returned your hand back onto his dick.
“Tim, you need to speed this up a little don’t you think?!” Biting your lip and looking Jey dead in his chocolate brown eyes.
“She’s on demon time Jey.”
Jey simply nodded his head at the camera with a smile on his face as you threw your head back in laughter. “But, you gotta show me a little something bae.”
“What you wanna see?!”
Jey intently stared at your chest, barely taking his eyes off of them. “I think he wants to see my tits.” You giggled as you sensually removed your top, letting your breasts out on full display. Jey took a sharp intake of his breath as he admired your ample assets. You played with them first as you stuck your tongue out of your mouth, letting your saliva drip down onto them.
“Why yo ass so scared Jey?!” He quickly snapped out of your trance and gave you a questioning look. “I ain’t ever scared.”
“Prove it.”
Jey dove straight into the middle of your breasts, motorboating himself. You giggled as you took the back of his head into your hands. Things took a sharp turn when he massaged both of your sensitive breasts in his hands and began sucking on each nipples. Covering them in the upmost amount of saliva.
Bringing himself back into an upright position, he sat back and played with your tits. In awe of the dangly Hello Kitty nipple piercing you had on your right tit. “That fuckin’ piercing go crazy Uce, get a closeup on that.” As the cameraman went in to get a closeup, Jey shook your tits from side to side giving himself and the viewers a show.
“He’s having a lot of fun.” Jey gave the camera another sly look as he continued to play with your breasts. “But, I know he’s gonna have more fun with this.” Removing his hands from you, your chest now faces the back of the couch and your knees now pressed up against the seat cushion. You could hear a whistle coming from Jey’s mouth as you gently shook your ass, letting your miniskirt rise showcasing your lovely pink thong.
“This what I’m taking about baby.” Jey bit his lip as his head neared your ass, giving it a wonderful spank, kiss, and caress. “I’m done with this. I’m ready to get in the field.”
“Wow Y/N, I don’t think we’ve ever seen Jey skip over the interview so fast. We got only about four minutes of footage.”
“Four minutes is enough, come baby.” You yelped as Jey took you into his arms and walked to the bed placed off camera.
“I guess I just got the magic touch.”
“Damn right she do. Take that shit off for me mama.”
Tossing you onto the plush bed, you followed his orders and removed your skirt and panties. Your cunt on full display: wet, warm, pink, and soft. You began to play with your pearl as you stared into Jey’s now dark eyes. He slowly started to undo the ties in his sweats. “Keep playing with it baby, I need that pussy real wet when I fuck it.”
Him telling you to continue masturbating in front of him already drove you over the edge, but wanting you real wet when he fucked you, sent you to the moon.
“Unhhh… my pussy’s so wet for you daddy.” Jey was now in his PSD boxers, playing with his clothed cock at the same pace as you. You both stared sensually into each others eyes as Jey finally became nude. Your eyes couldn’t help but to trail down to his massive length, taking in all its magnificent glory.
“Yo ass looking at it real bad, come give it a taste.” Swiftly, you positioned yourself ass up face down as you took his dick into your small hands. Licking at his swollen head, you captured his bead of pre-cum. Closing your eyes and savoring the taste.
Jey’s head leaned back as you enveloped his entire cock into your mouth, all the way to the base. “Fuckkk, that throat ain’t no joke for real.” Not only were you known for your ass, the way you seemed to swallow a dick up so easily was also a topic of discussion.
You sloppily cover his entire length in your saliva, balls and all. You barely even gagged as he reached the back of your throat. Jey’s head lolled back as he revel in the feeling of your throat swallowing him whole like it was nothing. Bobbing your head up and down, twirling circles around his dick, and playing with his balls. “I-I-I-I c-an’t.”
Jey immediately pushed you away as he shivered at the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving, that he had to stop you. “We can’t be going too crazy so fast now. Stay bent over like that baby.” Arching your back even further, Jey assumed the position behind you.
Massaging your ass oh so heavenly. “That ass is something dangerous mama.” Blushing, you began to shake your ass back reaching to feel his dick. He just stood still as he admired your lewd attempts to fuck yourself against him.
Your pussy finally found his cock and you moaned as you gently pushed it into yourself. “Oooo Daddy, that feels so good already.” Jey grabbed your hips in order to get himself inside of you faster. “That pussy so tighttt.”
You bit your lip and looked into the camera as Jey bottomed out into you and began fucking you slowly. “Hey Jey, I swear you got more than that. Give the girl what she wants.”
Jey paused as you looked back at him. “Many girls can’t handle this and then they tap out.”
“I don’t tap out sweetheart. Do your worst.”
Jey pushed your head down into the mattress, as well as pushing your back down slightly more. He spread your legs further and held your juicy hips. He whispered to the camera, “She ain’t ready.”
Jey soon began to absolutely berating your cunt into oblivion. Your nails almost broke as you clawed at the sheets so roughly. Your ass bounced off of his taut abs as if a basketball was being dribbled on a court.
Your screams muffled into the mat as he didn’t cease his ministrations. His hand stayed trained on the back of your head as your nails scratched up his forearm.
“I told you yo’ ass ain’t ready. Tell the world your ass wasn’t ready!!” He pulled your head up as your face was covered in mascara stained tears and forced you to stare into the camera. The cameraman moved to get a closeup. “Tell the world yo’ ass can’t take it.”
Eyes rolled all the way to the back of your head and a big smile on your face, you proudly spoke. “I ca—n take i-i-it wo-rld.” A moan in each break of your sentence as you took Jey’s dick like a champ.
“She lasted longer than the rest, I ain’t gonna lie.” Your head fell back into the sheets as pulled both of your arms to your lower back. You soon began squirting and screaming like a mad woman, nearly as if someone was murdering you.
Well… you were definitely getting murdered in a different way.
“Fuckkkk, baby I’m about to cum. Keep squeezing me just like that.”
Your cunt never stopped clenching as Jey’s cum soon entered your quaking pussy. Jey beat seven hard strokes into your cunt, ensuring that he got every single drop into you.
You shivered as he left the warmth of pussy. You lied back against the bed and but your lip as Jey gave you a sloppy wet kiss.
“How was that guys?!”
“That was cinema.” We said in unison.
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THE END.
I actually think this is my longest fic to date. Why are all my Jey fics so long?!?! I wanna do a Roman fic give some ideas for Big Uce 💝💝🤪!!!
MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020 @theogsamoanqueen @saintsvenust @angelreigns444
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aedaeun · 6 months
Text
“ i don’t think i have a small dick? ”
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warnings: 1.161k words, non idol, best friend!sunghoon, MAJOR dubcon, really cliché tbh, proofread only twice…, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before the outcome is silly), cream in da pie…, READER TAKES BIRTH CONTROL!!!!, sleepless ppl, stubborn hoon 😊, aint no way BIG DICK SUNGHOON??????????, ___ is basically y/n, okay im done wit da warnings
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as usual, you and your “best friend” sunghoon were chilling in your bedroom after you had both finished work. you were binge-watching multiple horror shows trying to fall asleep because it was 3:35am and you still had not an ounce of melatonin in your body. personally, i think it’s awkward that you’re willingly (as you think) gonna sleep in the same bed as your male best friend, however sunghoon himself had to convince you it wasn’t weird a couple months ago that ‘it’s okay, you think i’m some sort of sex obsessor or something? i already have enough hoes, i don’t need another.’ all because he didn’t wanna go to his apartment by himself as it was 1am and he’s afraid of the dark.
it’s not like you thought he would do something to you whilst you sleep, but isn’t it alright to worry just a tad bit? well that’s not the issue at hand right now as he’s already fallen asleep on your side of your own bed. sunghoon was snoring so loudly to the point where that part of you that was about to doze off had fully woken up. “ay sunghoon, you can’t come to my room to sleep and take over my whole bed.” you slapped his face awake and pushed him onto the other side. “you didn’t have to,” sunghoon yawns, “wake me up to push me ya’know?” he flipped onto his other side, his bare back facing you as he grunts with dismay.
“you think i wanna touch your disgusting ass?” you sighed as you laid down, once again attempting to sleep. “you don’t have to call me disgusting, i know i’m attractive and you wanna ‘touch me’.” sunghoon mutters under his breath, assuming you can’t hear his teasing. “first of all, you don’t even moisturise your skin which makes you crusty which also makes you disgusting. second of all, you reek of sweat after you do your lil’ figure skating thingy-majig which makes me not wanna touch you again. third and finally, you are not packing anything that i could ‘touch’ because you have a small dick! all three of those things are reasons i don’t wanna ‘touch you’ anywhere, any place, and for any reason. case closed.” you scoff with disbelief at his gibberish talk.
“small dick is a crazy claim. do you always say this to men and then you wonder why you have no play?” sunghoon silently laughs. you gulp with subtle anger, “too far. way too far. i barely have play because i’m that attractive so people are intimidated.” your brows furrow with embarrassment as you make up a bogus excuse. sunghoon turns back around to face you. he smirks at you, “you don’t have to lie, you’re pretty but not as much as me.” he lifts your chin and turns your head pretending to scan your face with his eyes. you swat his hand away and put your middle finger up at him.
“ya’know they say the taller he is, the bigger the dick right? and i’m basically 6 foot, i don’t think i have a small dick by the way.” sunghoon looks into your eyes and uses them as mirrors to fix his messy hair. you swallow your saliva, visibly flustered from his sudden statement. “whatever, i still think you have a small dick.” you roll your eyes trying to ignore the conversation you’ve just had with sunghoon. you turn around closing your eyes tightly hoping the day will just blow over. that was all until you felt something hard rub up on your ass.
“you wanna see if i have a small dick still?” it felt like all the colour from your face was drained. was he being serious? you knew sunghoon was a bit crazy, but to rub up on you like this from something that was meant to be a joke? he couldn’t be serious. “park sunghoon, you cannot be for real right now.” his sleep deprivation must of been getting the best of him. you felt your pyjama pants and underwear being slid down. “i promise m’gonna stretch you out so good.” he rubbed his tip up and down through your slick folds. you felt more sensitive than usual because you haven’t had sex in more than 4 months.
sunghoon plunged his cock into your tight hole. you grabbed his leg subconsciously due to the stretch he promised to give you. you bite your lip attempting to hold back a moan. “let me hear your pretty sounds.” sunghoon whispered into your ear as he started to get a pace in thrusting into you. the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting your cervix. he lifted up your by-now-limp leg and dipped his hand in between your thighs to rub your clit. this earned sunghoon a highly pornographic moan escaping your lips. “is my dick the biggest and best you’ve had?” he smirks, seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head with satisfaction. you didn’t say a word knowing that if you did, you would just moan instead of speaking properly.
sunghoon stubbornly pounded into you harder and quicker, still expecting an answer. “i said: is my cock the biggest and best you’ve ever had?” you cover your mouth tightly but nod feeling your orgasm rising. “i need words, doll.” sunghoon grabbed your hand and took it off your mouth. “yes.” you mutter quietly on the verge of physically breaking. you clenched your walls around him, being able to feel the shape of his tip because of how tight you were. you let a loud whimper out of your vocal cords as you coated his cock with your slick juices.
“i’m not done until i cum ___.” sunghoon flips you over into missionary and drills into your pussy massively overstimulating you. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaving massive scars on his upper back as you try and hold yourself from not passing out because of the overstimulation. “gosh, you have the best pussy ever ___. why didn’t i fuck you sooner…” sunghoon started to tremble as his arms gave out on him and he nuzzled his head in the nook of your neck, sloppily thrusting into you.
“shit… i’m gonna cum in you.” he groaned as he shot his load into you, painting your walls white. it felt like he had emptied all of his cum in you as your stomach enlarged once he came. he laid back down back in the position you both were in prior, still keeping his dick propped inside of you. sunghoon slowly raised his hips inside of you making sure none of his cum came out of you. “fuck, i would keep us like this forever if i could. who knew the best sex i’d have would be with my friend.” he grunted, wrapping his left arm over your waist and pulling you closer towards him.
“you were right. you have a big dick, i was wrong.”
336 notes · View notes
minhosbxtch · 2 months
Text
Shadows and Silence
Azriel x reader
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Yall voted Azriel so here we go
Warnings: violence, mentions of SA, mentions of physical abuse, language
It'd been 400 years since you last spoke. 400 years since a single word had been uttered from your mouth. 400 years since your mother had been executed. 400 years since your tongue had been cut off.
Beron, being the dick that he was, had decided your mother was desirable and he wanted her. And Beron being the dick that he was took her.
Fast forward 9 months and you were born. Your mother, disgusted for how she came to be pregnant pretty much ignored you. Until you reached the age of 6.
On your sixth birthday your mother decided that enough was enough. She started to groom you into the perfect wife. To be pretty, proper, and polite. She also introduced you to the court, where people came to notice your unusual likeness to Beron.
Beron who also heard these rumors faintly remembered what he'd done to your mother, so it was possible you might be his.
So one day when you were roughly 14 he brought you and your mother to have dinner with him. Your mother, thinking he might marry you off to his oldest son, Eris, who she knew was your half-brother, but the power she would gain from that? The reputation?
So she went and dragged you with her.
Turns out it was not that at all.
No not in the slightest. Once you both had arrived, guards had instantly seized you both. Killing your mother almost immediately, Beron, instead of killing you, had cut your tongue out so you could not tell. He wasn't aware you could write though. But it didn't matter. What would being related to him change?
Eris was there though. He knew everything. What Beron did to your mother and that you were his half-sister. He hid behind a column as Beron and the guards left you crying and bleeding out on the clean, polished floors.
After a minute you passed out from the blood loss and that's when Eris made his move. He knew you would most certainly lash out or hurt yourself more if he approached you like this, so he had waited until you were unaware.
Picking you up and gently examining you're mouth he saw that one of the soldiers perhaps took pity on you and cauterized your tongue.
So he took you to the only place he could, his mother's.
His mother, had instantly sent for healers as he explained what he knew. He told her that she had no other family and no place to go. His mother pursed her lips before coming to the conclusion that the only solution was to make her a personal maid. That way she could keep her close and mostly protected from Beron.
All of this she had told you after you had woke up, a day later.
She had become a true mother in your eyes. And to her, you were the daughter she never had. You had also been close with Eris. Even though you two were only half-siblings you were both closer than with any other sibling, perhaps Lucien was a close second though.
Usually the Lady of Autumn gave you the day off today so you could relax and try to forget what happened today, despite your protests. But today there was an important meeting including all of the High Lords. She wanted to take you along since she was Eris' support, she wanted you to be her support.
She gave you an orangey-red long sleeve gown to wear. You would play no role. All you had to do was stand behind your Lady and say nothing.
So you did.
You paid no attention to what was currently going on in the room, choosing to admire the beautiful architecture of the Day Court palace.
Suddenly the talking in the room ceased and all eyes turned to you. Your eyes met those of amber sitting across from from you, studying, calculating.
"She's a mute," Beron sneered, dragging your attention to him, "good for nothing except her silence."
High Lord Rhysand tilted his head, eyes narrowing and smirking at you, "She is of Night Court descent."
"No she's Autumn through and through," said the High Lord of Autumn. "She might be unworthy scum, but not that much."
You looked at the ground before feeling a gentle caress in your mind, causing your head to snap up meeting the High Lord of Night's gaze yet again.
Is he telling the truth? Rhysand spoke in her mind.
I- I don't know. My mother's been dead for over 400 years. She might've been she didn't look like she was from Autumn. You thought replying to his question.
At a slight tilt of his head you nodded and gave your permission for him to search your memories.
It was a strange sensation, him rifling through your memories. He saw each and last one of them. From that one night, taking care of the Lady after a nasty argument with Beron, and times where Eris was just as vulnerable as you were.
His presence jolted as he saw your mother. A flash of recognition.
You know her? You thought in surprise.
Yes. I do know her. His voice was shaky, almost horrified.
But you didn't care. You wanted answers. Answers you waited 400 years for.
So? Can you tell me about her? Anything? You pleaded. You didn't care what you just needed something, anything, any scrap of information. To prove that at least one of your parents were even slightly a good person.
The High Lord hesitated but relented, sensing her thoughts. She... Your mother's name is Mithrianyus Arwel. She was a resident of Hewn City and she... if Keir had a women that he'd trust to be his right-hand, it would have been her. She was incredibly brutal and had an old view of how young females should be treated, that their happiness did not matter. She thought the only use for them was to gain political power.
While my sister and mother were alive, she took it upon herself to try to corrupt her, but my father decided enough was enough. He'd been looking for a good excuse to kick her out. She never liked my mother. Thought she was above her. That my mother was Illyrian scum. Not worthy of even looking at the High Lord, much less his mate.
At his words your heart sank. Even as you had prepared yourself for the worst, it still hurt. You had allowed a kernel of hope to blossom in your chest, but before it could unfurl it had been squashed.
You felt the High Lord leave your mind as he suddenly announced to the room, "Y/N's mother hailed from the Night Court and unless her father would like to claim her then she belongs in the Night Court," he said with a pointed glance at Beron.
No words were spoken until Rhysand beckoned you over to his side. As you rose Beron suddenly decided to speak up. Your heart skipped a beat thinking he would claim you but instead he said, "Once you realize all she's good for is keeping her mouth shut and whoring around then you'll still have to keep her."
You just kept your head down and kept walking, ignoring the stares you could feel prickling against your skin. You stopped when a loud snarl sounded in front of her, from the Night Court's area.
You looked up to see the same amber-eyed male snarling at Beron, eyes blazing. Your eyes widened as black tendrils snaked around his form. Other then his eyes, you hadn't really looked at him, thinking he would be offended that such scum like you was even looking your way.
But now that you're paying attention, you noticed he is easily the most handsome Fae you had ever seen, including everyone in the room. His eyes were like drops of honey which had quickly hardened as his anger sparked. He was muscular but slim and his face- Mother his goddamn pretty face. He was darkly handsome, ethereal even. Like an angel of death. His leathery wings only added to the factor, in sharp contrast to his tan, muscular skin.
His eyes met yours again and lightened, despite his face not softening, his eyes welcomed you. Like a unknown familiarness.
As you reached their side High Lord Rhysand beckoned you to a new chair that wasn't there earlier, next to a different male.
He shared similar characters, but was broader and more muscular. He also had soft eyes. Not pitying, you hated the look of pity people gave you. Taking you off guard, he gave you a broad welcoming smile. You were shocked but gave a small, uncomfortable smile back.
Instead of looking up and accidently meeting Beron's eyes, you looked down and fiddled at your hands. Anything to not seem noticeable.
When the kind male next to you gave your shoulder you finally looked up to see the Autumn Court gone.
At your sigh of relief he let out a quiet chuckle and said, "Yeah I never liked them either. I'm Cassian", nodding to you.
You motioned to Cassian and he seemed to get the message.
"Yes. I know you can't talk, but I figured I'd introduce myself to you so you had at least one friendly face that you knew," he said with a large smile.
Did he always smile this much?
You looked around the Night Court section, scanning, seeing if you recognized anyone else when you met eyes with that male for the third time.
He didn't say anything but gave you a nod and a slight smile.
Cassian saw your roam around his court.
He leant down next to your ear so only you could hear and said, "The one your currently staring at is Azriel. Hey, there's no problem staring at him. I find myself doing that all the time. What? Hey he's hot!" Cassian protested as you elbowed him in the side.
At your look he cleared his throat and continued, "Anyway you already know Rhys, that's Mor and that's Feyre as you probably know. There's gonna be more but I'll introduce you to them when we get back."
Back where? You didn't care.
You decided then that you liked Cassian.
Very much.
-'~{~}~'-
The meeting hadn't gone on for much longer. After Beron left a lot of the tension had vanished.
Well that was until Tamlin showed up, made a shit load of dirty comments about Feyre, given you a look that had you shrinking in on yourself and Cassian and Azriel bristling.
With nobody coming to the High Lady's defense you wished you could speak. You didn't even know her but Mother he needed to chill.
After another comment finally Azriel said, his voice dangerous, "Be careful how you speak about my High Lady."
Holy Mother. As if he wasn't sexy enough.
Cassian nudged you and whispered in your ear, "You're gawking." He quickly snapped his head around to act like it never happened. As you glared harshly at the side of his face you could swear you could see the slight outline of a smile on his face, as if he was trying not to laugh.
After Tamlin's little tantrum Rhysand decided he was done and it was time to go.
To go back to wherever Cassian explained they had to winnow and then left for Mor to take him.
She scowled.
He left her.
Maybe she didn't like Cassian as much as she thought.
You didn't know what to do so you just awkwardly stood there until Azriel approached you.
He smiled softly and said, "Would you like me to take you? Mor is taking Cassian because he can't winnow."
You scrunched your brows in confusion. How could Azriel winnow but not Cassian?
At your confused look he cleared his throat at said, "I can't winnow but I can do something similar. I can use my shadows to transfer me places. If it makes you uncomfortable I can let them know and you could switch?" Azriel offered.
You shook your head. You were slightly nervous but didn't want to be a burden and besides, Azriel seemed kind and like he didn't mean harm, at least currently.
He slowly extended a scarred hand out for you to grab, a stray shadow circled his wrist, also curling towards you as if it couldn't help it. You hesitantly reached for it.
His hand was warm, but not unpleasant. Here and there you could feel cool brushes of the shadows. You could feel the ridges of his scars, but they didn't make you uncomfortable. You had some just like that from Beron.
"Ready?" Azriel spoke quietly. He seemed like a quiet person. It was nice. He was quiet but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.
You nodded and gasped as shadows wrapped around you and Azriel. Turning your head towards him you saw he had a smile on his face at your awe.
In a blink your vision was completely swallowed by the black and your only tether was Azriel's hand which you squeezed tightly as if he was your lifeline.
Suddenly your vision cleared and you were standing on a gorgeous balcony that overlooked a sprawling city next to a river below.
Barely seconds later, Feyre, Mor, Rhysand, and Cassian was also standing right in front of you.
You knew you were still holding Azriel's hand but you didn't want to let go. He seemed to sense as much and thankfully, also didn't let go even as Cassian came over smirking at their conjoined hands.
Azriel quickly followed Feyre into the house, away from Cassian so you did too, not wanting to hear his teasing or let Azriel go.
Feyre lead the tour which started in the living rooms, kitchen, eating areas, and finally the bedrooms.
The entire time Azriel's hand was in your grasp. Occasionally, he would squeeze your hand, as if checking in. Each time your heart skipped a beat as you squeezed back. At first you were worried you were bothering him, that he had more important things to do but as you went through the tour he seemed content, even stopping Feyre to tell you something she left out.
At the very end Feyre led you up the stairs to a long hallway, pointing out everyone's bedrooms as she went.
She stopped at the second-to-last door on the left and motioned to the door.
"Here's where you'll be staying. All of your clothes and things are still in the Autumn Court so we can go shopping whenever you would like. In the meantime you can borrow stuff from Mor and I," she said with another smile.
You didn't bother to try to tell the High Lady that you had nothing there that was worth saving anyway.
No servant did.
For the first time since you arrived, you let go of Azriel's hand to open the door. Was that just your imagination or did he also look disappointed.
As you opened the door you were in awe of the large room furnished with a ginormous bed in the corner. There were armchairs, tables, and couches tastefully placed around the room. In the other corner there was a large fireplace.
You probably wouldn't use that since fire would probably be too soon.
Across from the bed, there was the door to a large bathroom. Inside there were shelves filled with different shampoos, towels, conditioners, and washes. Across from the selves there was a large sink with a mirror overtop of it. Taking up almost half of the large bathroom, there was a bathtub, if you could call it that. It was practically a pool for how large it was and the fact that it was built into the floor.
You turned around to thank Feyre but she was gone. The only one there was Azriel who watched her reaction, grinning.
He cleared his throat offered you a blank notebook and pencil. "This is just if you want to talk to someone y'know?"
You tilted your head at his nervousness. The infamous, terrifying Shadowsinger, scared of you?
You took the notebook out of his hands and wrote a simple note:
Thank you.
He nodded and started to turn away before turning back and saying, "Can you fight? I know it's a stupid question..." Azriel's voice trailed off as you wrote:
A little. Eris taught me in case there was any males that he couldn't protect me from.
"You were close with Eris? From what I've gathered about him he doesn't care about anything," he asked, genuine curiosity on his face.
We were close. He's the one who saved me from bleeding out and took me to his mother. He also protected me from various males that tried to have their way with me.
Despite Azriel's deep hatred of Eris, he respected him slightly for how he protected his mother and you. Perhaps there was a half-decent male in there, but a coward.
"Here you're welcome to get some sleep and if you need anything just ask the House," Azriel said while shutting the door, "I'll have Mor or Feyre bring clothes."
Honestly the only thing you wanted to do was take a bath. You needed to wash off the dirt and the stink of the day.
As you walked in the bathroom, you noticed the bathtub was completely filled and steaming. You slid off you're clothes and dipped a foot in the water.
It was too hot. It reminded you of fire. Beron's fire. The fire that had burned you everytime you were too slow in bringing something in his presense.
You couldn't bathe in that water. Maybe if you waited, the water would cool off.
So you waited, and waited.
When there was a knock at your door you scrambled to your feet and quickly threw on your dress from the Autumn Court.
Feyre was standing behind the door a bunch of clothes piled in her hands. She frowned when she saw you hadn't taken a bath yet.
"Were you waiting for me to bring other clothes or what," she said gesturing to the open bathroom door.
You grabbed the notepad and wrote:
The water is too hot. I tried to wait for it to cool down but it didn't. I don't like hot things.
At your note Feyre's face softened. "I can cool it off for you," she offered, "How would you like it?"
Almost cold. Room temperture?
Your baths, (if you could call them that), that you had as a maid had just been taking a quick dip in frozen water with several other girls.
Feyre nodded and strode to the bathroom where she knelt next to the bathtub and waved her hand over the water.
"Is this better?"
You dipped a foot in. Gods, yes that was better. It wasn't cold enough for you to shiver in but it was cool. Sort of like a lake on a warm day.
You nodded.
"Good. There are clothes on the bed. There's undergarments, dress, pants, shirts, shoes, socks, and nightgowns. If there's anything else you need just come find me or someone. Oh, and if you don't want to write to me just let down your mental shields and we can talk mind-to-mind," she said with a smile.
You let your mental shields down and you could feel the High Lady's presence in your mind.
Do you perhaps have an extra satchel or small bag. Azriel gave me a notebook and I wish to carry it with me. You thought trying to keep thoughts of the handsome male out of your mind.
Of course, I can have it ready by tonight at dinner. She spoke, tinged with amusement as she walked out, closing the door behind her.
You built your mental walls up and took your clothes off before getting into the bathtub. You saw your scars and burn marks in the mirror. Your bathrooms didn't have mirrors. Only the people you served and you kept yourself completely covered for those encounters.
Mother it'd been so long since you could relax and the bath did just that. Once you finished washing, you sat on one of the steps and allowed yourself to melt against the water.
You forced yourself to get out to not fall asleep and ignored the mirror as you strode past.
You sorted through the pile of clothes on the bed. There was everything from dresses that were practically lingerie to a set of Illyrian leathers. As you peered closer to the leathers you saw a note saying:
I saw these weren't being used and figured you should have them if you wanted to train. If you want to, just find me, Cassian, or Rhys and tell us. -Azriel
You figured training would be a good thing to do to build muscle and also to defend yourself.
You pushed thoughts of that aside and dressed in a pair of leggings and a simple sweater and opened the door to get dinner with your notepad.
Tinkling laughter echoed from the staircase that led to the dining room. You walked down the stairs, feet silent and came to at the entrance to the dining room.
No one noticed you there, nor heard your feet from what you could tell.
Suddenly a presence appeared next to you and you turned to see Azriel beckoning you to sit in the other open spot.
It was between Cassian and Feyre. You thanked the Mother that you didn't have to sit in the other which was between two unfamiliar females.
One had a short black hair and silver eyes and the other looked like Feyre, but a much more delicate version.
There was another women standing in the doorway. Sharp would be the best word to describe her. Sharp cheekbones, sharp eyes.
Shit. Her sharp eyes snatched to you but you stared right back even as she approached you.
"I haven't seen you before. Are you also a member of their perfect little family?" Mother even her voice was sharp.
You snorted and wrote on your notepad.
Mother I hope not.
She smirked and stuck her hand out, a human gesture. "I'm Nesta."
Ah the High Lady's sister. So the soft one must be Elain.
You shook her hand and wrote your name.
"You're new I haven't met you before," she said eyeing you.
They claimed me from the Autumn Court.
"So you're the one they were talking about. They were discussing if you could be trusted. Rhysand said he looked into your mind and didn't see anything bad so they're keeping you I guess. But why can't you talk?"
Instead of writing anything down, you opened your mouth and showed her the absence of your tongue. Instead of the pitying look most people gave you, her gaze hardened, angry.
"Just another reason to murder Beron I suppose," she said threateningly.
You just wrote:
Please do. And do it where I can watch. Or let me have a turn.
She laughed at that, a cruel, harsh sound that had everyone pausing their conversations.
You grinned. You liked Nesta and her sharp tongue.
Where are you going to sit? You wrote.
Whatever happiness lingered in her face vanished at the question. "I'm not going to."
Then I'm not either.
That was the start of your friendship with Nesta. On the days you trained she would sit and watch you. You would both sit in the library and read each others books. She introduced you to her world of smut, smut, and more smut. Honestly you didn't complain one bit. I mean how could you?
Your friendship with Cassian also progressed. Sometimes he would train you, sometimes Azriel would. He also gave you books. They were a lot less interesting than Nesta's but you read them.
He was there for every step of your recovery. I mean so was Nesta but she was also trying to recover and didn't express her emotions as much as Cassian did. Honestly the tension between those two... You wished they would shut up and get together at this point.
Mor you didn't really click with. I mean she was always nice but her personality was overwhelming sometimes. She loved physical affection. You had nothing against that but you didn't like people touching you as much as she does with people.
Feyre on the other hand understood you more then she let on. She always knew when you were struggling and offered a hand. She also knew you couldn't go on extravagant spending sprees like Mor did, especially when it wasn't your money. She was content just enjoying your company without having conversations, and when you did it was nice not having to write, since she spoke in your mind.
Rhysand you didn't really have a relationship with. He was your High Lord and was always busy, so you two didn't spend much time one-on-one. And whenever you did and it was silent, the silence was uncomfortable. He knew everything about you, had seen it in your head, (with your permission of course), but it made you slightly nervous that you were so vulnerable to someone that powerful.
But Azriel, he knew everything. That was because you trusted him. He had told you everything about his past, so you told him about yours. You held each other in the early hours of dawn due to the nightmares you each had. There so far, was no mating bond with each other but you felt like you didn't need one. You two were close enough that you would tell each other anything. You liked this feeling, completely bare to someone else that was also completely bare. Physically and mentally.
You had shown each other your scars. He knew the feeling of the burns, the light prickle that turned into an inferno. Like you needed to scratch the skin off. His room was always cool for that precise reason. When you woke up screaming in the night, he was there to hold you, his shadows caressing your bare skin. He knew of the males that hurt you, he fought all his instincts to not go off and find them to tear them apart. No, he swore you could have that chance.
He hadn't minded kissing you even without your tongue. It took some getting used to be he didn't care. Didn't care that you couldn't talk. He bought you notebook after notebook so you could talk to him. There were separate ones that only stayed in his room, completely filled up that he always took when he went on missions, to read over when he wasn't with you.
Once your relationship became public, he doted on you every chance he got. Taking you to shops, buying you anything your eye snagged on, or just holding you during meetings with the Inner Circle.
At first he knew you weren't super comfortable with touch, so he made it his mission to help you. At first it started with small touches, light kisses, and holding hands. Then it went to having an arm around your shoulders or waist. Once you became comfortable, he held you publicly or had a hand on your thigh.
You never were unfomfortable with him no matter who else you were with. He made you feel safe. How could you? He was home.
Your home.
293 notes · View notes
rebelwrites · 3 months
Note
being friends with pierre/any driver and meeting charles through them (whether it be at a race or at a dinner or whatever) and you immediately hit it off and exchange numbers AAAAA
Christmas Party
Charles Leclerc x Reader
I have changed the request slightly hope you don’t mind. As this is a flash fic this hasn’t been edited.
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As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️
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Taking one final drag of your smoke, you felt your face scrunch up in disgust. You had no idea why you had brought a fresh packet when you had quit the habit around 6 months ago. Shaking your head at yourself you tossed the cigarette butt into the small ashtray on the glass table behind you, looking over your shoulder you found yourself taking a deep breath, gaining the courage to head back inside Pierre’s apartment.
Tonight was the night of his famous Christmas party, every year you had heard all the stories that came from this one event but this was the first time in five years you were able to attend, due to your dick of an ex boyfriend trying to control your life, stopping you from spending Christmas with your best friend in Monaco. From the moment you arrived at Pierre’s you locked eyes with Charles, you were slightly confused as to how one look could get you feeling hot under the collar so to speak. You knew Charles had a bit of a reputation with the women, so any time you came to visit Pierre you made sure to avoid Leclerc.
Taking a deep breath you slipped back into the living room of the large apartment, once again locking eyes with the Monegasque, you found yourself quickly breaking eye contact, pushing your way through the bodies you made your way over to the makeshift bar for the evening.
“There you are,” Pierre hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Where have you been hiding all night, kiddo?”
“Ain’t been hiding, P,” you shrugged, knocking back the shot of vodka, scrunching your face up at the familiar burning sensation that quickly followed. “This dress and body is too good to be hidden away!” you smirked, gesturing down to the red low cut sparkly dress that fit your body like a second skin, causing your confidence to sky rocket.
“Have you spoken to Charles yet?” he asked, keeping his hand planted on your waist.
Pierre had been your best friend for the best part of 15 years, the two of you had a close relationship to the point people were always questioning if you two were dating or not. You and Kika always got a laugh out of the news articles trying to make out Pierre was cheating on her with you.
“Nope,” you mumbled, pulling the bottle of beer to your lips. You hadn’t told Pierre that you had a small crush on Charles, mainly for the fact you knew he would try and play cupid and get the two of you together.
“Come with me, you dork,” he smirked, grabbing your hand dragging you through the apartment over to Kika and Charles.
Charles couldn’t help himself as he watched you from across the room, from the moment you arrived at the party he couldn’t stop staring. The first time you locked eyes with each other he felt like someone had just punched him in the gut, he was struggling to catch his breath. The dress you had chosen hugged your body perfectly, showing just the perfect amount of cleavage. The fact the sparkly dress was red was an added bonus for him. It was safe to say red was your color and he wanted nothing more than to see you rocking his shirt early in the morning.
Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he brought the glass to his lips, still refusing to take his eyes off you. For some reason he lost any courage he had when it came to you so he could count on one hand the amount of conversations the pair of you had.
“You know you can’t avoid him forever,” Pierre whispered in your ear as you got closer to the man in question. “I can tell you are crushing hard on him.” You were just about to protest when he shook his head at you. “Girl I saw it the moment you two first met, there is a connection there and you refuse to acknowledge it.”
“P, you know what I don’t act on any feelings,” you sighed, taking another large swig of beer trying to drown the butterflies that were invading your stomach the closer you got to Charles and Kika.
Any confidence you felt had now disappeared, your stomach was churning as you stood next to Pierre refusing to make eye contact with Charles, you kept your gaze trained on your stiletto. You had no idea why he had this effect on you, but he made you feel like a teenager drunk on love.
“How’s work going?” Charles asked, stepping close to you as Pierre moved out of the way. His body was so close to yours and it was sending your heart rate through the roof.
“Urm, it’s okay I guess,” you nodded, pulling the beer bottle to your lips. You wanted nothing more than to be able to speak to him but it was like the words kept getting stuck in your throat. “I’m going for a smoke,” you mumbled, pushing your way past Charles.
The moment you stepped outside the chill of the winter air hit your skin, you felt like such an idiot, the boy was only making conversation and you couldn’t cope, running outside to escape. Pulling a cigarette to your lips you let your eyes flutter closed as you lit the smoke.
“You got a spare?”
The voice alone sent chills down your spine, you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Taking a long drag on the smoke you spun around on the balls of your feet, holding the open packet out in front of you. Charles smiled softly at you before taking one from the slightly crumpled box.
“Didn’t know you smoked?” you asked, rubbing your hand up your arm trying to get some warmth back into your skin, without warning suddenly you were wrapped in warmth as Charles draped his jacket over your shoulders. Neither of you said anything about the small gesture.
“I don’t smoke regularly, just every so often,” he nodded, letting the smoke hang from between his lips.
Silence fell over the two of you both, this was the first time the two of you had been alone in the same space. Turning your gaze you took in how content Charles looked, for the first time in months he actually looked relaxed. This year hadn’t been the best for him, you hated that over the course of this season you watched the sparkle in his eyes get duller each race.
“You look gorgeous in that dress by the way,” Charles said softly, gently nudging you with his elbow.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you said with a slight giggle.
“I have a question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to,” he said, leaning against the brick wall, taking a quick drag of the smoke. “Everytime we are in the same room as each other, you always make some sort of excuse to leave, why? Have I done something to upset you?”
You knew you would have to confess at some point but you didn’t think it would be on the night before Christmas eve. Taking a deep breath you quickly lit up another cigarette taking a long drag on it before answering. “It’s stupid really,” you mumbled, trying not to let the nervousness take over. “You make me nervous, Charles.”
He stood there for a moment processing the words that had just fallen out of your mouth, a few seconds later the corners of his lips started tugging into a smirk as he pushed himself off the wall, closing the gap between the two of you.
“So that is why you have been avoiding me,” he whispered, brushing his fingers down your cheeks, you instantly felt your skin heat up from his touch. The feeling of his body pressed against yours just felt right and like it was meant to be. “Do you like me Y/N?”
The words got caught in your throat so all you could do was slowly nod your head whilst breaking eye contact with him. Charles was making you feel things you had never felt with anyone before,not even with your ex.
“Babygirl,” he breathed, placing his thumb under your chin, lifting your head up so he could see into your eyes. “For the last year I have done everything I could to gain your attention and nothing seemed to work, Y/N from the moment Pierre introduced us I felt a connection with you, but you were with that prick and I couldn’t do anything about it.”
You could hear the sadness in his voice and that caused a sharp pain in your chest. This boy had been watching from the sidelines, watching how you were treated like a piece of dirt and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Let me treat you how you should be treated,” he breathed, brushing his noses against yours, the feeling of his breath on your skin sent you into a frenzy. “I can tell you feel the connection as well.”
You couldn’t help yourself as you got lost in his green eyes, the way the moonlight was causing them to sparkle had to be one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen.
Could you get involved with someone again? Your heart was fragile and you didn’t know if you had the strength to piece it back together when it got broken again.
“I swear, I’m not going to do anything to break your heart,” Charles whispered as if he was reading your mind. “So what do you say Y/N, wanna see where this goes?”
Taking a deep breath you finally listened to your heart, one that had been bandaged back together but in this moment it was only beating to the Monegasque that was standing in front of you.
“Only if we take things slow,” you whispered, hiding your hands in his jacket, quickly finding his phone. A small smile appeared on your face as you pulled the device from the pocket. Quickly you turned it around so the screen was facing Charles, meaning the phone unlocked, once you had access to it you punched your phone number into the keypad before hitting call. “Now you have my number,” you giggled, handing him his phone back.
“Best Christmas gift ever,” he winked, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head before quickly taking a picture of the two of you.
You never would have thought that the one year you were finally able to attend your best friend’s Christmas party you would be getting up close and personal with the guy you had been crushing hard on.
There was magic in the air and it felt like for once Santa had finally granted your Christmas wish.
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@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @livo676 @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungariann @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo
181 notes · View notes
kvtie444 · 4 months
Text
⭒˚。TOES DOWN
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a/n: my grammar is atrocious i’m so sorry😭 BUT YAY MORE VOICE MESSAGES !!!
warnings: sfw, (just about😏)
summary: seeing chris after the breakup, there’s clearly some tension…. pt2????
・₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆
what the fuck does he want.
i feel my stomach drop as i see his name appear on my screen.
chris is typing… just now
chris sent you a chat just now
i groan, throwing my head back against my pillow before grabbing my phone and unlocking it to read his message.
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Is he serious? i mean i expected this sooner or later given our nearly 6 months together ended a week ago, but it's still surprising. I furrow my brows, tapping the screen with my nails as I formulate a reply.
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he’s such a dick.
i gather all of his belongings, shoving them into an empty bag. Moving towards my dresser, I grab my perfume and generously spray it over everything, adding an extra grain of salt to the wound.
Entering the bathroom, I have a swift shower before proceeding to apply my makeup and style my hair. I take extra time to ensure that i look extra good; I refuse to let him see me looking anything less than my best. Once ready, I slide into my shoes, grab my bag and keys, and make my way to my car.
While driving, an overwhelming sense of anxiety washes over me, intensifying with each turn that brings me closer to his house. He’s still my ex, and despite my reluctance to admit it,i still have love for him equally as much as hate.
Overthinking consumes me, and as I stop at a red light, my mind drifts into a momentary lapse. He’s probably already likely moved on, merely seeking his things to give to another girl.
The honk of a car behind me jolts me back to reality, the green traffic light signaling my return to focus. Eventually arriving at his house, I turn off the engine and exhale. Glancing at the bag filled with clothes beside me, I take a few calming breaths before opening the car door and grabbing the bag. Approaching his front door, the ring doorbell goes off automatically, i can hear his steps from inside the house getting louder as my heart practically beats out my chest.
he swings the door open, leaving his arm casually perched on top of the doorframe, and leans his head against his arm. shit, he looks good. He's sporting a black tee paired with his chain, plaid pj bottoms, and clearly drenched himself with my favorite cologne, knowing it would drive me crazy. Keep it together y/n. composure.
His eyes roam over my figure, a teasing smirk playing on his lips as our gazes lock. "Took you long enough," he remarks. "Shut up," I roll my eyes. He bites his lip, a playful smile forming before gesturing for me to enter, holding the door open. I walk in through the deliberately narrow space he created, my body brushing past his as he follows behind. Settling on his sofa, I drop my bag beside me.
He leans against the opposite wall, arms crossed. "You look good," he comments. Heat rises to my face, and that familiar fluttering sensation stirs in my stomach. I glance down at the floor. "Look, can I just get my stuff? I've got places to be," I retort.
"Oh?" he chimes, "Where are you going?"
"Meeting a friend," I lie.
"Like a date?" he prods.
"What's it to you?" I snap, meeting his gaze with furrowed eyebrows.
He stares at me, his blue eyes sending sharp glares my way before shifting his gaze to the side, his jawline flexing. fuck. "Your stuff's in my room, just some makeup wipes and shit," he says, looking back at me.
"Is that it? Just throw it away, Chris," I reply. He shrugs his shoulders, then pushes himself off the wall, stepping closer. "Can you do something for me, princess?"
I feel myself grow hotter at the nickname. "Don't call me that," I mumble. He chuckles before continuing, "Can you drop me off at Nate's? I'll pay for the gas." I bite the inside of my cheek, weighing my options. Do I say no and look like the bigger person, or do I entertain this a bit longer?
fuck it.
"Yeah, fine," I sigh, rising from my spot on his sofa. I make my way toward his front door, feeling his eyes burning into my body as he follows behind.
We climb into my car, and he’s quick to grab the vape sitting on my console. I shoot him a look, laughing softly. I start the car, and as I drive, I notice him gripping the back of his seat with his right arm above his head, his head turned to face me, his bicep flexing in the process. Surprisingly, the car ride remains conflict-free. As we stop at a red light, he rests his hand on my thigh, exhaling smoke. I shoot him a look, biting my cheek—a habit I've developed when feeling flustered. Fuck me, could this red light take any longer?
I extend my hand, and he passes me back my vape, our skin brushing against each other, sending sparks through my body. As I inhale, I feel his hand trailing upwards slowly. I keep my eyes on the red light as his other hand reaches over, taking the vape out of my hand, his touch lingering this time. The quiet sound of music from my phone fills the car as I feel his hand grazing the hem of my shorts.
"Chris," I sigh, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth "Hmm?" he replies softly. I remain silent as his hand hovers over the place I need him most.
Finally, the light switches to amber when Chris speaks up, "Pull over."
・₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆
274 notes · View notes
holylulusworld · 6 months
Text
Very tight places - Kinktober 3
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Summary: You're stuck with a soulless Sam again.
Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader
Square 8 filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Amnesia
Square 6 filled for @samwinchesterbingo: Dirty Talk
Warnings: soulless!Sam being his asshole self, cheating (kinda), smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of anal sex, creampie, claustrophilia, blasphemie
Rating: Explicit
Kink: Claustrophilia
Words:
Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023
Catch up here: Cramped (1) & Tight places (2)
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Six months later you are still hunting with Dean and Sam. You didn’t want to leave the elder Winchester alone with his soulless brother. 
Who are you trying to kid? The ugly and embarrassing truth is, that you can’t stay away from Sam for too long.
He’s intoxicating. You’re high on him, and the way he fucks you. If you had an ounce of dignity left, you’d tell the bastard to fuck off. But you are too far gone to care.
Most nights, you let him do unspeakable things to you. Dean stumbled in on you and his brother, calling you sick more than once. He wrinkles his nose anytime Sam gropes you in front of his brother.
Sam has no filter. In any way. When it comes to sex, he doesn’t care if you are in the middle of a case, at a hospital, or buying groceries. Sam wants you, and he gets you.
Anytime. Anywhere.
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“Sam, what are we doing here, dressed in the cheapest costumes we could find,” you grumble as Sam decides you must play nun and priest to solve your latest case. 
Dean is out and about to find Death. Not to die this time, but to convince Death himself to help him get Sam’s soul back. 
Sam is not amused. He wants to stay like this. New and improved. Deadly, focused, and with a sexual appetite making even Dean blush.
“I look ridiculous. They will not believe I’m a nun.” Glancing around the almost empty church you sigh. At least there are not many people around to witness your poor performance.
“Why?” Sam resists the urge to grope your ass. Seeing you in your nun costume got him rock-hard. If not for the case he wants to solve, he’d have you bent over the altar already. “We look just the same as the priest I knocked out to get his clothes.”
“You did what?” you stop in your tracks to gape at Sam. “Please tell me you didn’t knock a priest out, Samuel Winchester. I don’t want to go to hell only because you have no impulse control.”
Sam smirks darkly. “You are so cute when mad,” he dips his head to whisper, “not so cute while you writhe on my fat cock. You’re a whore, not a saint. I know how you like it. Dirty and rough.”
“Sam, can you for once not think about your dick?” You growl. “We still need to find the monster killing the people at the church. Sadly, the only witness still suffers from amnesia.”
“That’s where you come in,” Sam purrs. “I didn’t want you to wear this iconic tunic only for fun. You are the one taking Sister Margaret’s place. You’ll fit in just fine.”
“I don’t want to play the next victim for the monster. Which by the way, you still didn’t identify, Sam. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent the last night at the bar with that blonde,” you snap at the hunter. You don’t give a shit if your blow your cover. Sam won’t get away with treating you like a random bitch he can fuck and leave afterward.
“Y/N, be honest with me,” he chuckles at your angry expression, “are you jealous because you are in love with me?“
“You wish,” you walk away, too angry to be around Sam today. Are you jealous? Of course, you are. Sam and you spent the last months together. Most of the time in the sheets. But last night, he told you to leave and didn’t return until early in the morning.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Sam mocks you. “I know you love me. You draw hearts and imagine walking down the aisle while I wait for you to give you the ring.”
“You’re such an asshole,” you turn back around to snap at Sam. “I can’t wait for Dean to get your soul back. The moment you have it back, I’m gone. Don’t believe I stuck around for you and your limp dick. I did it for Dean because he’s a good man. Always was.”
“You want my brother?” His features darken, and you can see the change in Sam’s eyes. You take a step back. You know the look in his eyes. It’s the same one you see when he’s about to attack a monster. “Well, too bad. He can’t have you.”
“He can have me if he wants me.” It’s your turn to pay Sam back for all the times you asked yourself if he’s with some other girl. “Just like you had that pretty little thing last night.”
Sam snorts. “She was boring and wanted to go on a date first.” He casually says. As if this excuses his behavior, and how he treated you last night. “Come. I show you something nice.”
“Sam, I’m not in the mood for one of your games. Let’s just solve this case and we can go our separate ways. I stuck around far longer than I intended to.” You huff as Sam once again, ignores your protests. He grabs you by your arm and drags you toward the confession booth.
“Sam! What are you doing?” 
“Shush now, I saw someone,” he pushes you inside the booth and closes the door behind him. You gulp. You’re stuck in a tight place with Sam again. “Do you have your gun?”
“What kind of question is that Winchester? I’m not an idiot!”
“Good. Stay in here and wait for me,” he turns around to look at you. Something flashes in his eyes before he turns around to leave the booth. Not without telling you to lock it, though…
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You’re gnawing at your nails. Sam left you at the confession booth half an hour ago, and now you don’t know if you left the booth to help him or not. 
You press your ear to the door, listening to your breathing. There is not a sound, and you wonder if Sam messed with you and just left the church.
“Open the door,” Sam knocks at the door, “now.”
“Fuck, Winchester,” you curse, but unlock the door to drag Sam inside. He closes it behind him once again and releases an annoyed huff as you check him for injuries. 
“You can't wait to put your hands on me again, huh?” Sam turns around to look you up and down. “You know,” he licks his lips. His large hands shoot toward your face to cradle it for a moment, ��I think you should confess your sins to me, my dear.”
“I said I’m not in the mood for one of your games,” you pout and cross your arms over your chest. “Why did you leave me in here, all alone? Did you find the monster?”
“I fucked the nuns and gave them a good spanking,” Sam deadpans. “What do you think I did? I kept you safe. The monster wasn’t here. We will find them, though.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“And you are still my whore. My brother can’t have you,” he moves his hand to your throat. “Say it.”
“Fuck you.”
“You wish I would,” he chuckles as you claw at the hand holding your throat in a tight grip. “OR maybe I should remind you of your worth. Turn around, lift your tunic, sister. I want to see your cunt.”
“No.”
“Do it or I swear I’ll drag you out of here and fuck you on the altar like I wanted to,” he warns. You know Sam is not joking. If you don’t do as he says, he’ll drag you out and have his way with you on the altar.
He drops his hand from your throat, smirking as you slowly turn around. You shove the black tunic up your body to reveal your ass to him. 
“I hate you so much.”
“No panties,” Sam moves his hand between your legs to find you dripping for him. “you’re such a whore for me. I can’t believe I found someone like you.”
You should knee his balls and just leave him there. Instead, you press your hands against the wooden wall and brace yourself for Sam’s massive cock. He’s not a fan of foreplay when he’s like that. 
“My whore.” He runs his large hand over your back, down to your ass. “Look at you, ready to have my cock. I think I’ll go for your ass today.”
You suck in a breath. It’s always a struggle to take him up your ass. Especially when he’s impatient. 
“Here?”
“Aw, my little cockslut loves having me up her ass, huh?” His pants drop to the ground before you can even choke out a moan. Sam is on you in a blink. One hand moves between your legs to slap your pussy. “Answer me!”
“YES!”
“Louder!”
“I love your cock up my ass,” he slaps your pussylips again, and again until your tender flesh throbs and you soak his hand. “I want to feel it all the time.”
“Beg me,” he slings his arm around your throat. “Y/N, I’m not asking,” Sam growls in your ear. “I want to hear you beg.”
“Please give me your cock, Father Winchester,” he bends your body to his will and rams himself inside of your leaking cunt.
“Fuck,” Sam is not gentle. All he gives you is his free hand between your legs to toy with your clit. He snaps his hips into your ass, making you cry out with every deep thrust. “I love it when cry a little.”
“Ass-hole,” you press your hands hard against the wooden wall. “I hate you so much.”
Sam doesn’t care about your words, or that you soak his cock only a few thrusts later. He batters your cunt, hoping to force another orgasm out of you to make you see that only he can fulfill your desires.
“You make the sweetest noises when I fuck you,” he nips at your earlobe, teeth sinking in your flesh to tug at it. You moan and push back onto him. Sam knows exactly which buttons he must push to get what he wants. “I’m going to fill this cunt up again.”
You hiss his name when your body sizes up. You tremble in his arms and close your eyes as your orgasm washes over you. When he fucks you like this, from behind you can pretend it’s the real Sam, not the broken version of the hunter.
“You’re such a good slut for me, Y/N. I’ll never let you go,” his words a more threat than a promise. His hips begin to stutter. “Open that pussy for me, take my cum…”
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You don’t know how you made it out of the church without getting caught. Sam’s cum ran down your thighs as he dragged you out of the place you stained with your sins.
Back at the motel, you try to make him talk to you. Sam sits across you, just staring at you.
“Sam, we still need to find the monster.” You sigh as he ignores you. “SAM! The monster.”
“It was a hoax,” he shrugs and drops his eyes to your legs. “I wanted to fuck you at a church in a confession booth.”
“There is no monster?” Your jaw drops. “You drove to the middle of nowhere, and forced me to wear a nun costume only for sex.”
“Roleplay, kitten. It’s essential to keep my dick hard.” He watches you squirm on the bed. “Be good and spread your legs. Let me see your tainted cunt.”
“Sam…can you just not be so crass all the time?” 
“I said,” he gets up from his seat to stand in front of your bed, “spread your legs and show me your well-fucked and cum stained cunt.”
“Fine,” you fall back onto the bed and spread your legs. “Satisfied.”
“Hmm…I don’t know,” he unbuckles his belt with one hand and shoves his pants down his legs. “I think you need more cum in your pussy…”
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“Please tell me you got him out,” Dean looks at Death. 
“I got his soul, and we should hurry but,” Death looks Dean straight in the eyes, “I must warn you. This soul got ripped apart, and there is not much left of the brother you knew…
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309 notes · View notes
capricornafterdark · 6 months
Note
how do you feel about pegging? a transmasc reader that fucks jason with praise and love, and jason starts crying from how good it all feels, with the reader being a little sadistic so he enjoys jason being overstimulated >:)
I have once again accidentally written a novel. Couldn't figure out to end it, hope this works!
Being Jason's friend with benefits comes with all sorts of surprises - hell, you're still surprised that it happened. It started when you answered a faceless "Hey, you looking?" message from vers top on Grindr, largely because the Austen quote in the bio paired with a shot of built torso over a bubble butt piqued your curiosity. You'd both agreed to meet up at a bar to assess chemistry, shown up with matching broody looks and black leather jackets, and started snickering.
One thing led to another, and now here you are, 6 months later, making out shirtless on a bed in one of his apartments - he has at least 3 that you know of, but you don't ask why. You're just fuck-buddies, nothing serious, and it's Gotham, for fuck's sake - everyone has secrets. In some ways, you think that's why this lasts - neither of you asks the other for vulnerability outside of the bedroom, to the point where neither of you knows the other's last name. There's just your hole, your T-dick, his tongue, and his cock, sometimes with burning kisses or nimble fingers to add variety. He never asks you to suck him off, and you never ask to peg him.
So, it definitely catches you off guard when, underneath you, Jason casually remarks, "So, on your profile, you said you're vers - ya' ever topped a cis guy?"
"Well, yeah…it's been awhile, though." You swallow hard, trying to play it cool even though you can feel your cheeks heat up. "Why, you interested?"
"What if I am, pretty boy?" He smiles crookedly, surging upward to steal another kiss from you while his thumbs rub slow circles on your hip bones. You can feel your clit twitch, but your brain's still very much online.
"Have you done it before?" You ask seriously.
"On my own with a toy? Sure, but never with someone else callin' the shots." He bites his lip, bravado slipping as his cheeks flush. "I just…that takes trust, darlin', and I didn't think I'd trust anyone like that, 'specially in this city."
"...if you're saying you trust me enough to try, Jay, we can - but I'm going to need you to communicate while we do it, okay?" You look him dead in the eye, smoldering but stern. You've seen his scars and how he flinches if surprised - the last thing you want to do is hurt him. Sure, you both like to get rough, but there's a big difference between lovebites and lasting harm.
Jason smiles almost bashfully, nodding as he exhales a breath you didn't know he was holding. "Of course, doll - I wanna' make sure it's good for you, too."
Mollified, you allow yourself a grin. "I somehow suspect that you won't have much trouble, babe. I haven't regretted a night in your bed, yet…but I didn't bring my harness with me, so -"
"That…doesn't need t' be a problem." His eyes flit away from yours, to the left, his ears turning pink. "Figured I'd grab some things at that one boutique you mentioned, last weekend - come prepared, y' know?"
Looking to the left, you see a discreet black gift bag and raise a brow. "The one where I got my last vibrator? Isn't it a bit expensive?"
"Not for my baby, it ain't." Jason purrs, getting some of his cockiness back.
You smile shyly, a bit of your own blush returning as you file that quote and exclusivity under "things to discuss later, when it won't kill the mood" - right now, you've got priorities. Sliding off of him, you leave the bed to paw through the bag. Underneath the tissue, you're pleasantly surprised to find a sturdy nylon harness with a mesh pouch that lines up with your clit, containing a wide, flat vibrator. There's also a decently thick red silicone dildo (about seven inches long), a vibrating cock ring, a small bottle of lube…and an empty plastic case for what appears to be a butt plug…?
Putting two and two together, you turn around to face Jason with a smirk. "Seems like you've been hiding something from me, Jay. Care to share?"
Muscles ripple like steel cable under his skin as he stands up with a flirty grin. The way your walls clench at the sight almost has you moaning - you'll never get tired of watching him move. He turns to face the bed and shimmies out of tight jeans, putting on a show for you.
The swell of his glutes is framed by a red jockstrap. When he bends over, you can see the flared, jeweled end of a butt plug nestled between his cheeks; you can't help but groan. His answering whine goes straight to your dick, and before you know it, you're on your feet, toys in hand, closing the distance between you.
Flinging the dildo, lube, and harness on the bed, your thumbs find the waistband of his jock and you nearly rip it off of him while nipping and kissing your way down his back. When he steps out of the clothing piled at his feet, you spin him to face you, standing on tiptoe to bite and suck at his lower lip with a growl. Sighing, he bends to meet you, giving you the opening you need to thread a hand through his legs to toy with the plug, pressing your thumb against his perineum. Shivering, he gasps and welcomes your tongue into his mouth with a mewl - for all his size, he's putty in your hands. You lay him back on the bed, diving between his thighs to leave hickies on either side while you jack him with the hand that isn't gently thrusting the plug. When you feel a hand in your hair, you rear back with a frown.
"Thought you wanted me to call the shots, stud."
Jason wets his lips, looking surprisingly submissively up at you from beneath dark, full lashes. "I…I do…Sir?"
A feral smile makes its way onto your face, slow and considering. "Then I'm going to need you to keep your hands to yourself. Can you manage that, Jay?"
Pupils blown wide, eyes watery, he nods and laces his fingers, placing his hands behind his head. "Yes, Sir. 'M sorry."
"It's alright, you didn't know. Just let me take care of you, okay? You remember your safeword?"
"Yes, Sir, it's still Robin." He wets his lips again, giving you an imploring look - you've never seen him like this before. "Please, I…I'll be good."
Biting back a moan, you resume working his cock with your hand, darting down to tease the head with your tongue. Palming the cockring from your pocket, you suck and lick at the tip of his dick while jerking him in slow strokes until you taste precum. He whines when your mouth leaves him, but doesn't try to stop you. You snap the cockring on him, humming in approval.
"Such a good boy for me, Jay." You murmur, smiling in anticipation. "This should keep you busy while I get ready for you."
You flick the ring to its slowest vibration setting with a snicker, gleefully watching Jason's hips jump, his leaking dick smacking his stomach uselessly. His teeth worry at his lower lip, like he's trying to be quiet.
That won't do, you think, struggling out of your own denim and into the harness. "Jay, sweetie? Quiet mouths don't get fed. If you want me back over there, speak up."
He immediately lets out a string of little whimpers, sitting up slightly to watch you fit the dildo into harness with wet, hungry eyes. Obedient, he keeps his trembling hands fisted in the sheets at his sides, panting feverishly. "Fuck, Sir, I need you inside me - please don't make me wait, I…"
Darkly amused, you watch his eyes follow your hand as it strokes the dildo, checking that it's secure. "I think you can beg prettier than that. If you need it so bad, convince me."
Hips bucking at the air in aborted little thrusts, whines, "Please, Sir - I wanna' feel you fill me up, need you to take me - wanna' be yours."
"That's more like it, Jay. Now, scoot to the edge of the bed, lay back, and bend your knees."
You settle between his legs, standing, and grab the base of the plug, thrusting it in and out a few times before removing it with a slick pop. He mewls at each thrust, hissing at the loss of pressure when you put the toy aside, his hole clenching on nothing. Turning the vibe in the harness on low, you slather lube on the dildo with a sigh before placing a hand on Jason's hip. He looks up at you with glassy eyes, face tight with need, and whimpers. "Please, Sir - 'm ready - give it to me"
You spread his cheeks with approving hum, smirking and teasing him with small shallow thrusts until he almost wails. You switch tactics, steadily guiding the strap into him in one achingly slow continuous stroke that has him keening out repetitive little 'yes's, his head thrown back with eyes squeezed shut. When you bottom out, pausing to enjoy the sensations of the flat vibrator and let him adjust to the stretch, he exhales hard with a shudder, legs shaking. Concerned, you start to pull out and his eyes fly open.
"No, no, no, no, no, Sir, please - stay -", he mewls pitifully, involuntarily fucking himself back onto your dick with jerky hip movements. "Wanna' take you all the way, like a good boy."
God, his fucking mouth might be the death of you. Your mouth goes dry and you can feel your slick running down your thigh, but you smile in approval and move your hands to cup his ass. "You're such a delight, you know that? Put your legs on my shoulders."
He scrambles to obey, hissing out an "oh fuck, yes" when you dig your nails into him and haul his hole to meet the base of the dildo. Giving his butt a squeeze, you grind deep into him, pinning your clit against the vibrator in the harness with a groan that he echoes. "That's right, Jay, you're taking it so well."
While he moans out a "thank you, Sir", a beautiful, terrible thought occurs to you. Grinning wolfishly, you move one hand to his angry red cock and thumb the head lightly, barely touching it. Combined with the fullness in his ass and the vibrating cockring, the sensation is so intense that he all but howls out a string of curses - some of which definitely aren't English.
With a predatory gleam in your eye, you up the ante, flicking the cockring to the highest setting while rolling your hips, still fully inside him - and he sobs.
Returning your hand to his ass, you start fucking him in earnest, murmuring praise and reassurance as his body rolls in rhythm with you, every thrust wringing out gasps, cries, and tears.
When you feel yourself getting close, you bottom out in him again, slowly grinding while you undo the cockring and turn it off. He sighs then looks up at you through hooded red eyes with a questioning whine. Grabbing his hips hard enough to bruise, you pull out, then pound fully into him, commanding, "be a good boy and cum for me, Jay" through gritted teeth. Fully sobbing, he cums two thrusts later with a yell. Fucking him through it, you shove two fingers behind the harness, curling into your own hole to rub at your G-spot until you join him.
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littlegreekhero · 7 days
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Tim Drake is so short it’s unrealistic: an explanation
In every single comic page featuring more than one adult, Tim is drawn exceptionally short (well Damian too but he’s still a pubescent boy) for mainly composition reasons, I think. You can’t really create a great standing composition with five heads at the same level so they exaggerate the difference. What does this leaves us with? A Tim in his late teens, at a whopping 5 foot and 6 inches of height (source: fandom wiki). This means he must be a certified short guy. Except, he kinda isn’t?
When he is shown with his peers he’s closer to the average height, like in YJ. So why do I think his stats are like this in fandom wiki or he’s drawn like that? I think editors and artists have never seen a teenage boy in their life and they think the younger the age the shorter the person is, linearly. My point is also supported by the fact that he doesn’t have adult proportions of a short person but an average person’s proportions, just shrunk down.
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We are the same height for reference. The beginning of high school is the time for men to have their growth sprout and they all end up as their forever height by junior/senior. I’d argue that I’m not simply short-phobic and that artists seem to just ignore this phenomenon. Oh and his weight seems unrealistic considering his height-weight ratio and muscle mass so the second picture is possible to happen. You don’t need to be Kon-el to effortlessly pick that boy up.
So how tall do I think he realistically be? Closer to 6 foot. Because I think we’re ignoring the second greatest factor.
Wealth! He was raised rich, he was well fed during his developmental ages. Even if he had short height genes, his entire lifestyle would make him proportionally taller. There is VISIBLE difference in average heights in wealthy versus poor neighborhoods. Students notice that private school kids tend to be taller. Students (in my country) get weirded out once they realize historical figures that lived in hard times were way shorter than them. Unless he was an extreme case of picky eating, I’d say let’s add at least a few inches. His recreational activities also consisted of rich people stuff. The training he got, the amount of time he spent inside (probably playing games on powerful PC’s, not doing manual labor, not having a neighborhood friend group to run around with and stuff) not burning calories all played a role in the body he ended up with at adulthood. Yeah, he kind of did vigilante stuff since the age of 9, but at the end of the night it was Wayne Manor that he returned to.
BONUS: I think all batkids would have a different height when accounted for environmental factors, I just drew the four Robins to demonstrate
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Jason: the wealth point that I defended earlier would work the opposite way for him, so why did i draw him the tallest? ✨growth juices✨ in the Lazarus Pit. I’m also not completely erasing their canon heights and body builds, and dude’s a hunk.
Dick: gymnastics makes you shorter. I thought this was a coincidence but apparently it’s real, especially in women’s gymnastics it’s very noticeable. He was trained since a very young age and did not stop practicing after he left the circus for apparent reasons.
Damian, at 14-15: He would hit his growth sprout a few months maybe a year later than his peers. Why? He’s Arab and even though I did no research on this, I think my experience as a Middle Eastern would account for a decent observation. But when he hits it, he would get noticeably taller EACH WEEK. I only attributed him a numbered height so I could show that he was close in height to his brothers. (Not related to height, but at his age he would have a massive nose with a sharp nose bridge, as it grows first, I remember many of my classmates were very self conscious about their noses in middle school)
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vinelark · 8 months
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6 for the ask meme 😎
6. Have you written any fanfictions featuring OCs? If so, elaborate!
oh? is it time? is it time to drop the OCBFEU primer??
in short: yes, last year my friends came up with a whole "what if we invented a boyfriend for jason" "what if we also invented a boyfriend for dick in the same continuity" batfam AU with two (and a half) significant OCs. we write little informal fics for each other about them and my incredibly talented friends draw them and we also have an extended fantasy AU of the boyfriend AU that could fill about three TV seasons of plot so far. i love them. they are constantly rotating in the back of my mind; it's a fun time.
months ago we compiled a document with bios and a rough OC bf timeline (with bonus timkon) and: here it is! (content warning for a (past) emotionally manipulative relationship. also some brief underage drinking.)
Batfamily OCBFEU (OC Boyfriend Extended Universe)
Santi
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jason’s OC boyfriend; ship name sanjay
[original santi post] [mammutblog’s santi art tag] [90kon’s santi art tag]
santi, short for santiago
5’7”; has to go up on his tiptoes to kiss jason
line cook by day, taking classes toward his teaching certification by night, also volunteers at an after-school literacy program in park row
gothamite through & through—grew up a few blocks over from jason, though their paths never crossed. has two siblings, an older sister and a younger brother, but is mostly estranged from them after their dad died. money was incredibly tight after that and santi still took odd jobs—including some for the falcones—to help his sister finish med school.
an old soul like jason, aka he’ll use his same phone til it’s a brick and does not understand tiktok despite kids at the program explaining it to him over and over
there’s probably a mildly popular tiktok series one of the kids has of them asking santi questions while santi is in the middle of something at the program, because everyone loves santi and he gives funny answers when he’s distracted
santi does not become a vigilante—he has enough on his plate, he’s (almost) a teacher—but he’s certainly not without his own set of skills. also he talks a very good game and can usually get by without having to physically fight (see: confrontation with nick in the below timeline)
Blue
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dick’s OC boyfriend; ship name bluebird
[original blue post] [other original blue post]
ex-talon from an alternate reality
6’5” 😳
in his original universe blue was taken as a child and turned into a talon (in this version talons have boosted strength/healing, and were conditioned/brainwashed into carrying out the court of owls’ assassinations. also golden eyes) and doesn’t remember his name anymore. once he tumbled into this universe after an assignment gone wrong, he was free of the court’s orders and re-education for the first time and started slowly unraveling their mental conditioning
he rarely speaks, and takes a while to consider his words when he does. when he texts it’s mostly emojis because he prefers them
when left to his own devices he’s very gentle and likes to bake
he had short/shaved hair as a talon. once he’s in this world he starts growing it out and prefers it long
he eventually makes an excellent crime-fighting partner for dick; he knows and understands dick’s skills enough to trust him to take care of himself, so they work very well together. that said, if you really hurt nightwing you will be reminded very quickly that blue spent most of his life as a nearly unbeatable assassin.
he eventually takes up the superhero name flamebird to go with nightwing
Nick
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tim’s OC ex-boyfriend; no ship name we hate nick
nick is a GU college freshman (18 at the time) tim meets playing tennis at the local rec center while tim is avoiding the manor in the early red hood reconciliation days
at first nick definitely plays into the fact that tim desperately craves attention at this point in his life. nick is at turns overwhelmingly nice and startlingly cold, and more and more often “playfully” mocks tim, dismisses his thoughts because he’s “young” (16 at the time), etc. nick is, essentially, a jerk who, despite—or perhaps due to—being a teenager himself, does everything he can to feel superior to tim.
nick also drags tim along to parties/hangouts with his college friends so he can show off that he’s dating tim drake-wayne. other than late-night parties with his friends, though, he insists on keeping their relationship a secret.
none of the bats know about this as it’s happening; tim eventually breaks it off and pretends it never happened.
rough OCBFEU timeline
jason and santi meet while jason is still sort of on the outs with the family but not in Revenge Mode anymore. first jason meets santi as red hood, and later realizes his main apartment/civilian ID lives in the same building as santi when they run into each other in the elevator.
sanjay identity shenanigans ensue! santi is very taken with red hood. santi thinks his upstairs neighbor “uhh, call me jay” is an inconsiderate dickhead for seemingly working out/moving furniture around at 3am sometimes. seriously, how many muscles does someone need. that’s ridiculous. santi also thinks jay has a very nice smile but that’s irrelevant.
meanwhile tim meets nick at rec center and they date for a few months. it’s not a great time for tim and he eventually breaks it off.
santi starts seeing red hood more because red hood will just. appear and shadow santi when he’s walking home from work late, and helps santi out of a tight spot with some of falcone’s men at one point (we learn santi used to work for falcone a few years ago; he needed the money to put his older sister through med school. santi’s not involved with the mob anymore but the past dogs his heels sometimes). santi and red hood start hooking up, though hood still won’t show his face.
santi volunteers at an after-school literacy program (while taking night classes working toward a teaching certification). one day santi’s neighbor jay shows up to the bake sale fundraising for the after-school program, and they have a cute interaction until there’s a surprise rogue attack and the school goes on lockdown. jay disappears; red hood shows up minutes later, helping santi secure the kids before going after the rogue. red hood gets hurt and in the aftermath santi, patching him up, pieces together that red hood is his neighbor jay.
shortly after this santi gets kidnapped in public along with a random teenager (tim drake) who happened to intervene and get himself kidnapped too. the kidnappers saw santi and hood together after the rogue attack, so they’re trying to get information on hood out of santi. tim runs interference as best he can and takes a few hits as a distraction, and soon enough red hood shows up to dispatch the kidnappers. in the aftermath red hood is cold and snappish to tim (jason thinks tim was stalking santi) (to be fair, tim was) and this leads to santi learning a bit more about jason’s family. this also leads to jason breaking up with santi because it’s too dangerous (for santi) to associate with him.
santi does not agree with this decision, and there’s a lot of pining and angsting until they get their shit together over the course of another few months. coincidentally jason is reconciling with his family in the meanwhile and getting his feet under him emotionally.
once they’re together jason and santi are like. incredibly domestic. totally in rhythm with each other. somehow jason now has the healthiest most settled relationship of any bat.
meanwhile in blüdhaven, blue pops in from an alternate reality where the court of owls rules gotham. blue was taken as a child and turned into a talon; when he’s thrown into this universe, he’s free from the owls’ control for the first time. it’s a rough landing—he ends up being fished out of a dumpster by dick and even though blue runs away, he imprints hard on one dick grayson.
Tim (18 now) realizes his longtime crush on kon might be reciprocated; cue panicking.
tim lies his way into a gay club to Research (because nick always kind of mocked tim for not having dated any guys before him; tim thinks he will have one shot to not disappoint kon so he has to figure shit out). gets drunk, starts making out with someone who is not uhh handling him gently. gets spotted by jason and santi, who are there on what was supposed to be a fun date, and they intervene. at first jason is annoyed, thinking tim’s following him again, and then realizes something is Wrong. he and santi dispatch the asshole other guy, and they bring drunk tim back to crash on jason’s couch.
the next morning tim is hungover at jason’s and mortified. santi makes him sit and eat breakfast and tim is like i’m sorry, i wasn’t even following you guys this time, i swear. which leads to tim haltingly explaining the nick thing. santi and jason (who is lurking in the kitchen listening to this convo) don’t know who this ex guy is yet but they’re gonna kill him ❤️
tim’s net gain for this ill-fated excursion: one (1) splitting headache and one (1) new older brother unit.
meanwhile back in blüdhaven blue is slowly un-conditioning himself, keeping to the shadows, and leaving little gifts on dick’s windowsill. the gifts are like, keychains, a lost earring, a random postcard. all tend to be blue or have blue in them, so dick starts nicknaming this mysterious gift-giver blue.
during patrol a week later jason finds tim on a rooftop and has an awkward but earnest talk with tim about uhh. consent and healthy relationships and stuff okay yeah we’re never talking about this again but also if you ever need anything. call me right away or i’ll kill you. okay good talk.
blue gets invited inside dick’s apartment for the first time. god bless bluebird they’re in their own little world over here.
tim and kon kiss 😳
an anonymous, “scandalous” tabloid story from someone claiming to have dated tim drake-wayne drops. resulting fallout, salacious rumors abound about tim + the waynes, etc. also, obviously, bruce and the family find out about nick. jason and santi figure out who nick is and separately visit him to put the fear of god in him.
nick: what the fuck, are you with the guy from earlier? i got the message! tell that guy i’m moving to star city this fucking weekend!
red hood: what guy
nick: you know the, the guy with the earring and the tattoo and he said if i didn’t lose tim’s number and leave town i’d have an accident
red hood: huh. no, not related. so you never made a deal with me. bummer for you, i still get to break one of your arms.
(jason obviously realizes the other guy was santi so he goes home and climbs into bed where santi’s awake reading and he’s like “productive night?” and jason’s like “mmhm, and i heard you had a productive day” and santi shrugs and then jason kisses the hell out of him)
over in blüdhaven blue witnesses dick get really upset over something (this article) for the first time. dick says “i’m going to be away for a few days but you can stay here while i’m gone, okay?” (when dick returns blue isn’t there but dick’s apartment has been deep-cleaned) (this leads to dick insisting blue stay there more and more until they accidentally end up as roommates)
batfamily deals with the nick aftermath and much-needed convos are had with tim. this also brings santi more into the family fold because everyone approves of him essentially making nick shit his pants.
bruce, up to this point, has been kind of wary of santi solely because santi is NOT immediately impressed with bruce. santi sees bruce as being on thin ice until he gets proof that bruce is in fact doing his best as a parent and then they have a slightly more chill dynamic.
meanwhile in gotham, mid family crisis, dick is having his own crisis/rooftop breakdown with tim and jason about having feelings for blue and going through his gay awakening at the ripe age of 20something and jason is very upset that he has somehow become the to-go gay relationship advice sibling.
because yeah, between dick and jason, JASON’s relationship is the more normal/aspirational one for tim looking for like queer mentors. bluebird is great and perfect for them obviously but they are not a blueprint for anyone else.
dick: [sitting on blue’s shoulder after describing how blue wooed him with random tchotchkes on his windowsill and then moved into a corner of his living room for a month and—] anyway do as i say not as i do
dick literally let a secret organization-trained slightly undead assassin into his house for fun bc he got like a few cool rocks as a gift
if tim asked dick for advice dick would be like “oh shit you like-like him? i just thought you were really touchy friends”
no one should ask bruce for advice, ever
so here jason is, somehow the most stable gay of the family
by the time damian appears with his first crush jason is like [sighs] [gets out the powerpoint]
timkon officially get together!
aaaand then months later dick shows up to family dinner with a giant ex-talon in tow like “heyyyyy guys, so guess what—”
there are also plenty of fun post-timeline adventures like “blue and santi get kidnapped together to target nightwing and red hood; kidnappers regret this almost immediately” and “tim takes blue on restaurant adventures because blue really likes fancy food; one day they run into nick who says something nasty about tim and blue breaks nick’s wrist (tim’s net gain: another older brother unit)” and “santi is frantically trying to catch the bus one night and steps on one of poison ivy’s vines—whoops, it’s sex pollen; santi gets introduced to PAID forms” or, alternately, “jason gets hit with the poison ivy special and that’s how santi finds out he’s on jason’s PAID form” and “bruce and blue surprisingly get along very well and trade sparring tips (meanwhile, bruce is trying so hard to get santi to tolerate him and it’s slow going)” and also “dick realizes everyone else in the world knew he and blue were dating and in love six months before he did.”
extra content:
santi, blue, and kon end up in a robin bf support group gc. one day kon gets added to a group chat that’s just like [(372)846-XXXX and (124)234-XXXX has added you to a group chat] and nothing happens there for like 2 hours he’s just like 
kon: ?
kon: hello?
kon: is this spam? is there such a thing as spam gcs?
kon: am i getting blackmailed
kon: how did you get this number??
(blue added kon while santi is in school)
the gc also ends up nonstop unintentional comedy due to their communication styles. kon’s gen z (👍 = declaration of war) and santi is technologically elder millennial/boomer (thought 🙂 was a normal smiley until corrected)—but blue is none of the above. blue knows the nuances of every emoji but has no social rules for using them. he’s an emoji artist. he is unbound.
from @90kon, in a version of the timeline where santi hasn’t seen jason’s face/doesn’t know his name before their sort-of breakup:
after their not-yet-together-break-up they should have an argument. like santi confronts jason about him saying he doesn’t want this thing between them to go on but wont give santi an honest answer but also keeps lurking and santi cant move on like that. bc either he’s done with him or he’s not. and umm yeah jason is not rly saying much but eventually santi is like alright. just tell me this: do you want this or not? forget about everything else…do you want me? and santi barely has time to finish his question before jason says yes. in a tight voice. i want you so much it scares the shit out of me. and ummm well eventually santi is like look. you can have me. but i have conditions.
and he’s like. whatever idk uhh don’t lurk out my window unless you’re gonna come in. dont investigate me; if you want to know something, just ask. at the end he should say "and i need a name. it doesn't have to be your full name or anything, but i need to call you something other than red." and jason is quiet for so long santi sighs and is like. "yeah i didn’t actually think that one was gonna fly. whatever, forget i said--" and jason says "jay." like it just slips out of him. and santi stills, looks at him, and from the way jason said it he somehow knows it's real. it could be short for any number of names but it's real. so he repeats it. "jay."
family game night from @mammutblog:
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collected OCBFEU tag
[OC boyfriends created in a lab by @90kon, @mammutblog, @cairoscene, @vinelark, @feyburner, @bluecrystalrainingdaggers!]
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be-my-ally · 1 year
Text
Empty Promises
(Crossposted from AO3) I think i’m finally getting the hang of tumblr formatting!!!
pairings: afab!reader/Elvis Presley (actual!Elvis in my head, but could be Austin!Elvis.)
summary: You’ve been in a relationship with Elvis for ~6 months & for some reason your sex life has tapered off. So you attempt Operation: Seduce Elvis but for some reason he’s not entirely impressed with your choice of outfit or method of execution. // LOTS of discussion of virginity - Elvis refusing to have p in v intercourse with reader & you attempting to convince him otherwise is a main tenant of the plot.
warnings: 18+, daddy kink, spanking, thigh riding, fingering, discussions of reader being ‘too tight’ and needing to be ‘trained up’, no idea what it’s called when he rubs his dick against your pussy but that happens, spoiler: there’s a proposal at the end
wc: 10.9k
You’ve been together almost six months at this point, and it was mostly going swimmingly. You had, when meeting him, been surprised at the speed at which he moved; he’d picked you up from the diner where you were working to save a little money before college - though you’d graduated well over a year ago now - met your parents, and moved you into his home all in the span of about five weeks. You’d spent two of those weeks shell-shocked that the man sending you pretty gifts, picking you up from work and taking you out to dinner was Elvis Presley. You’d wanted a poster of him in your room since you were in the sixth grade, but your mother had never allowed it. She couldn’t, however, stop you from using your allowance to buy as many of his soundtrack albums you could get your hands on, or demanding you went to see them in the pictures, regardless of their critical response or whether she claimed they were unsuitable watching.
It had been, sitting at the dinner table with your parents, difficult to reconcile the fact that he wasn’t a reflection from your new colour television set, he was actually there. Elvis Presley. In your little dining room, dressed as sharply as ever if not more demurely than you tended to see him - a single glinting ring on his pinky finger was the only concession to his usual image. Elvis Presley. Only in your house to get what he came for, fulfil his promise to you that he was gonna, “Take you home, show off my pretty lil’ thing, play house with you, baby, come on let me take you home.” 
You still had no idea how he’d managed to convince your father, other than with his irresistible charm and seeming utter confidence that all would remain proper. You’d warned him that your father could be protective and that he certainly wouldn’t be impressed with the over 10-year age gap between the two of you nor would he fall for empty promises and charm. Yet, you’d been proven wrong - Elvis’ deferential tone and good manners had gotten him further than you’d expected them to into your father’s good graces. He hadn’t had to work hard with your mother. Despite her opposition to his poster, she was predisposed to agree to anything a pretty man said to her regarding her only daughter especially if he was implying he would provide a safe future for her. And he certainly did imply such - even going so far as to suggest you put your plans for college on hold indefinitely; what good was a degree for a woman who didn’t need to work? He’d said it subtly, simply assuring them you wouldn’t need it. But still, your father had been horrified by this - all his work to try and make his only child see she could have a brighter future than a housewife seemingly for nought. Your mother, however, had been pleased as punch when you’d gone along with it. Other than as a matchmaking opportunity she had never seen the point in you going off to study literature. But with a promise that you agreed and that it was just for the moment, not necessarily forever, although Elvis had winked across the table at you as you’d said it, your father had relented. He had completely caved once Elvis had assured him that you would, of course, have your own bedroom in a tone that had implied he was appalled that it was even suggested that would not have been the case and the very next week you’d left for Memphis with him. 
More startling to you than even the speed of their agreement was the fact that most of these weren’t empty promises as you’d assumed. You hadn’t really had a strong opinion about college, although you hated to disappoint your father and you had enjoyed your advanced classes in high school, you had believed that he truly was just telling them what they had wanted to hear. Simply using it as a way to emphasise his ability to take care of you. But while he hadn’t actively stopped you, he also hasn’t been particularly encouraging either - making it very clear that under no circumstances would he consider it if it meant leaving him for any length of time. You’d decided that you honestly weren’t bothered enough to push the issue, at least not yet, since it wasn’t as if you could imagine yourself either bored or wanting for anything while you lived at Graceland.
You had been particularly shocked at his not-so-subtle assurances that your virtue was, in fact, completely safe. You obviously knew it was what your parents wanted and needed to hear but had just expected him not to broach the topic, considering not an hour before the conversation you had been necking in the back of his Cadillac - just two blocks away from your house and his hands had definitely not stayed strictly above your waist. You’d had more action in that hour than ever before - the most you’d experienced before that moment was in the tenth grade when Trevor had slipped you the tongue and squeezed a single boob behind the science block. That hadn’t been anything special, you hadn’t understood what the big deal was, but Elvis? He’d lit you on fire. 
Some of his promises hadn’t held though - you did have a bedroom but you had never slept in it. He’d kept the alcohol strictly away from you - you were, after all, he joked, not 21 yet; you’d tried to argue that you were in Tennessee now and you only had to be 18 but it hadn’t got you very far. He didn’t, however, seem to have the same qualms with slipping you a pill to help you stay awake every now and again when he was late back. He was still Elvis. He still threw lavish gatherings and after-dinner chats that turned into raucous parties most nights, and he still took you out to places that would cause your father to pass out if he’d known you were hanging out there. There were still people coming and going from the house at all hours of the day and night and his face was still plastered over all the tabloids and newspapers. But you had fun, it was exciting and different and he never made you feel like you were small-minded for being unaware that this kind of life could be a possibility. Instead, he seemed to relish opening your eyes to the new opportunities - closing down diners, taking you on expensive dates, gifting you outrageous presents; you had only been at Graceland a few weeks when he’d left a perfectly wrapped box on your vanity for you to find - a little pendant spelling out EP in perfect, tiny diamonds. You’d never imagined you’d be the kind of girl who could own diamonds, you’d hoped for maybe an engagement ring but never fathomed them in your everyday jewellery. 
Some of his promises he’d clearly felt exceedingly strongly about - he would not budge on you going out with being essentially chaperoned, he wouldn’t budge on college, or ensuring you didn’t want for anything. Most frustratingly, while you wouldn’t claim to be entirely virtuous you were, fundamentally, still a virgin. At first, you’d been pleased he wasn’t pushing for it, you had always been certain you would wait until marriage if only because the only girls you knew who didn’t were “trouble”. But he had rocked your core beliefs with how easy he had made it all seem. Before Elvis you had always understood that pain was inevitable; Suzy’s big sister had been vocal about the fact that it almost always hurt. But now you were convinced that everyone had either been exaggerating or simply been with peculiarly inexperienced and unaware partners. Elvis hadn’t done much more than slip you a finger alongside his tongue but he’d certainly made sure each time that you were ready for anything. Even if anything had not yet occurred. He’d fundamentally altered your understanding of sex, and it seemed totally incongruous with his appearance and personality that he would be willing to hold out for any reasonable length of time. But he’d told you not to worry about it and given you an education in everything but. You were no longer scared of the possibility of the awkwardness, or the pain of your first time, instead you were desperate.
Furthermore, despite all the fun you were having you couldn’t help starting to worry that he was surely going to get bored soon; you were itching to be more to him, do more with him. Sure he’d had you on your knees “trainin’ [his] baby up” but wouldn’t that only satisfy him for so long? He was Elvis and sure you had a pretty good opinion of yourself but you weren’t anywhere near his level in your opinion. You weren’t totally innocent, you’d heard from your mother’s gossip and girls in your friendship group discussing how you had to make sure you offered a little bit more, “keep ‘em interested, but not too much”, “don’t seem too eager”, “make sure you keep ahead of him though, you don’t want him to bore of you”. This worried you slightly - he didn’t seem bored, but it was also impossible for you to stay ahead of him. You’d had no idea that the things he’d done with his fingers or tongue were things people did. Or that the way he made you feel was even possible. 
You’d been at Graceland almost a full three months when you had started to push for it. Sure that if you didn’t you wouldn’t last past the six-month mark. Begging him to slip “just the tip” or mentioning that you felt like you were grown enough to make your own decision on that matter, after all, you had celebrated your 19th birthday with him now. That had just made him laugh - assuring you that regardless of how grown you may feel you were his, and he made the decisions around here - down to the colour of your nails - not you. It was always said so nonchalantly too; like the very concept of being owned in that way wasn’t strange at all. 
You’d tried going at it the other way, catching him while you were in the middle of other acts - promising you were his “good girl, daddy’s good girl, couldn’t you give him a present?” Only to get firmly rebuked and told as he laughed darkly at you “- now baby, how you gonna gift me what’s already mine?” Once, after a brief period where he’d been away, on the night of his return you’d almost managed to get him to give in and had been, after he’d calmed down, informed that even if you were positive you were ready he was certainly not about to risk your reputation with a baby. 
You had laughed at this - if this was his main opposition to your proposition there were plenty of ways around it. The first was of course reminding him that you were sure your reputation was already in tatters being pictured with him. And you honestly didn’t even care about your reputation anyway. It wasn’t the dark ages anymore, and while, sure, you hadn’t stood outside of congress with a placard, you still would have said you fundamentally agreed with the arguments of those who did. You weren’t the sort of girl who would proudly proclaim yourself a feminist but that didn’t mean you didn’t believe that what they were asking for was fair. So you’d spent a week researching - originally any mention of ‘The Pill’ had been met with scepticism from you; surely it was too good to be true? And in some ways it was - you weren’t 21, and you were unmarried so it was impossible to get ahold of for you anyway, well would have been if you weren’t sure that Elvis himself certainly could have gotten a hold of it. You had, one day, brought this up - perhaps stupidly - over breakfast. He’d considered you for a second, still chewing on a pancake, sat like he always did with his legs spread wide and lounging back. He was dressed casually, but still smartly - trousers and shirt perfectly pressed, but with his hair still barely combed. 
“Ain’t no way I’m letting you mess with yourself like that.” He was firm in his refusal and he sits upright to stare at you. 
“But El- everyone’s doin’ it - it’s not any different than your pills!”
You didn’t see the irony in the women’s liberation movement being reduced to you whining to your boyfriend to be allowed the opportunity to utilise it.
“No fucking chance little girl.” He tuts and shakes his head, “I’ve read about the shit that's in that, and there ain’t no way,” his voice raises “-no way at all, I’m letting you fuck around with god-knows-what.” He pauses for dramatic effect, pushing his plate away, “I’m gonna put a baby in you one day and they say it can affect it catching.” He’s getting caught up now starting to recite whatever article it is he’s read that makes it clear it's unsafe. You start to protest, even as part of you glows at the idea he might want to keep you forever.
‘Ok, ok,” You interrupt him as he starts to talk in wildly medical terminology that you understand very little of, “ok but what if, just for the moment, you wore a rubber?” You knew he wouldn’t go for it, the man barely wore underwear, but you were hoping it would make the pill seem like a more attractive prospect. He looked at you, and couldn’t have looked more appalled if you’d stood up and slapped him. 
‘No.’ And that was that. You tried again a few minutes later when the silence seemed to stretch on - you knew you were starting to toe the line of what he’d allow but you couldn’t help it. Even though he seemed reluctant to discuss it, this was still the most engagement you’d had on the topic. 
‘Ok but E - just wait a second and hear me out,’ He turns to look at you, his eyebrows raising as he waits with a look of patronising patience on his face, like how you wait for a child to tell you a new fact of common knowledge that they’ve learnt, “Really… how is it any different to what else we do, like… with your fingers?” He stands up and you wince inwardly. You’ve pushed it far too far.
“That’s different baby, that’s just … practicing. What you’re asking for - it ain’t right - not for God and not for you or the promises I made your daddy.” He looms over you, forcing you to peer up at him and he’s smirking like he’s already won the argument and you think well if you’re in for a penny; 
“Ok well then, what if I say I don’t believe in that shit anymore? What if I wanna go out and be Betty Friedan? It’s not 1945 anymore baby - we don’t have to be married.” His hand comes up to your cheek and you force yourself not to flinch - he would never hit you and you know that but his eyes are flashing and he can be unpredictable in this mood. He grips your chin and cheek in one hand - 
“You gonna tell me you’re unsatisfied now honey?” He laughs, “Don’t be so fucking ridiculous. Unsatisfied and a fucking slut? Doesn’t believe in god? No chance.” He forces your head to shake, “I know you Darlin’ and you’re gonna be my good little wife when the time is right and I won’t be goddamn fuckin’ rushed. Understand?” You nod. He’s right you didn’t believe what you were spouting either - he knows you still kneel before bed like a child each night, the habit of a lifetime difficult to break when doing so had given you him. His hand slips down to your neck and pulls out your necklace. You wear his initials around your neck always - that was part of your problem; the end did not seem in sight, you wore him around your neck not your finger. He joked about you being his ‘little wife’ but ultimately no real promises had been made. You sigh, looking up into his clear eyes and expression that had hardened beyond what you believed his soft cheeks could. You nod.
“Good girl.” He drops your chin and stretches starting to leave the room, he pauses in the doorway turning back to you his jaw clenching; “I don’t want this brought up again.” You nod again, for some reason the confrontation leaves you close to tears and unwilling to speak in case you can’t stop the floodgates. 
You hadn’t brought it up again, even though the fear you’d felt; that your status as a shiny new toy might soon wear off, remained. It had - for a while after - seemed unfounded, a couple of months had passed and it had not been brought up by either of you again; it seemed he really was satisfied with you as you were. You couldn’t claim to be otherwise - but that didn’t mean that the desire you’d felt had waned. 
————
He’d brushed you off again last night after dinner. Well, perhaps not brushed off, but he didn’t play like he usually does - or used to. It’s been almost two weeks and he has, in fact, not touched you at all like he normally does. Usually, you can count on being pulled onto his lap at some point in the evening, if not literally at the dinner table then certainly afterwards on a couch or armchair, and often this would lead to pretty public making out; often his hands would… explore … beyond the boundaries of propriety - you can’t imagine how many times other members of the household or ‘Memphis mafia’ must have caught a glimpse of your panties. Although that is certainly all that is ever offered - a glimpse. His level of possession over you knows no bounds and neither does his fairly traditional opinion of how women should both behave and be treated in non-private settings. You can still count on him either demanding you sleep with him or simply moving you to his bed but any bedroom activities have been strictly reserved for the tiniest bit of touching imaginable, a quick play of a nipple or squeeze of a cheek before simply kissing and falling asleep. He’s been looking tired lately, and he’s had a ton of meetings about a couple of his new films. You feel sympathy but at the same time, you’re getting tired of being ignored. 
More importantly, you’re worried that he’s growing tired of you - he could have any number of pretty young things, any number of pretty mature things too and you do worry that the number of actresses and starlets he mingles with on a regular basis must make your shine pale a bit in his eyes. After all, what good is a girl that won’t even have sex with him, or rather from his eyes can’t have sex with him? And really what does he even need you for if not that? It’s not like you run his house, or work, or contribute anything more than your company. He can argue all he likes that he likes you like this. That he loved that all your experience is with him alone, that he’s solely taught you how to give and receive pleasure but you still worry that this last boundary is now making you seem unattractive to him in his new glitzy environments. Prudish and backward in comparison to the knowledgable shiny California girls he’s rubbing shoulders with. But after the last conversation, you’re definitely not going to be the one to bring it up. Still, the fact remains that Elvis has been treating you differently lately. You’ve tried everything you usually would - going up to bed before him, being almost aggressively available, and the opposite, being completely covered up and tucked in or absent entirely until he comes looking. You honestly can’t think of any other way to break the cycle now other than one solution: Complete Seduction. 
A task you find difficult for a multitude of reasons - you’re not particularly body shy, especially around him, but you’ve been naked in front of him consistently the past fortnight and it still hasn’t enticed him. You’re certain nothing about you has changed; you’ve stayed the same size and shape - you’ve tried makeup on and makeup off, hair up and down. You’ve tried underwear and nightdresses as well as any manner of short day dresses, and exceedingly tight tops and trousers but still nothing. Ultimately, you think to yourself, it's hard to be seductive in sensible cotton underwear you’ve owned since you were 15 - just as it is impossible to feel so in gingham pyjamas emblazoned with butterflies and frills on the ankles and collar. Hard to feel seductive, and certainly hard to look it. 
You’re alone today, he’d left you early in the morning - strangely early for him - for yet another meeting with the promise he’d be back in the early evening; a chaste kiss as he left the bedroom and he was gone before you were even fully awake. 
When you awake properly, a few hours later, you roll over - staring at the dark ceiling of his room. You take the time to assess your options for Operation: Seduce Elvis. You could order something, but that could take days. You roll onto your stomach with a huff, the heat that you can already feel pulsing between your legs won’t wait for days. You consider touching yourself, he doesn’t like it…unless he’s watching. But would he even know? You rub yourself against the bed, no. You don’t need to. He’ll be taking care of you tonight. You could ask one of the other girls to pick you up something, which would solve the predicament of having to choose something, but the prospect of explaining the predicament you’re in overwhelmingly embarrasses you. The gossip runs rampant around here, and the boys are just as bad as the girls - you couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t get back around to Elvis nor could you stomach everyone knowing that you don’t know how to please him. Which only leaves one option: going shopping yourself. You push yourself out of bed determined to get this done. 
You drag yourself through your getting-ready routine, grab your purse and check there’s an ample amount of cash inside - you have no idea how much this kind of thing costs but you’re willing to bet a fair amount - and start to leave. You consider the keys, debating if taking your own Cadillac would be more or less obvious than taking one of Elvis’. Although you guess, technically they’re all Elvis’. Pausing by the door you consider for a second if you should be going out alone at all - rarely do you venture out without someone accompanying you either for safety or security or just general companionship. It had only happened twice out of sheer necessity since living at Graceland and both times Elvis had been unhappy about it, but on this occasion, you didn’t have a choice. You peer out the window down at the gates and for a rare occasion there’s nobody out there; there is usually at least one or two girls or paparazzi hoping to catch a glimpse, although it doesn’t normally tend to get busy unless someone lets slip a known engagement or leaving time and/or it’s clear there’s a party happening. Well, that makes up your mind; you’re certain that you can do this all yourself. By the time you’re on the road your adrenaline is strangely coursing through you, why do you feel like you’re on the run? You laugh at yourself as you sing along to the radio, Elvis inevitably playing when you’re two miles away and you would have thought it would have made you more nervous, but for some reason, it inspires you with budding confidence. This is going to work, and it’s all going to be ok. 
You’re recognised in the boutique, you can tell by the way the assistant’s eyes widen and glances down at your neck. It’s not unexpected, in the past six months you have been photographed together too often for it not to be assumed you were together in at least some capacity even if it hasn’t yet been confirmed by anyone. The ever-present necklace is clearly visible over the top of your pale dress; subtlety is not exactly Elvis’ strong suit, it may not be huge but it does still clearly spell out EP in twinkling diamonds and you are only ten miles from Graceland. You take a deep breath before attempting a confident smile.
“Hi there,” The girl smiles back at you but it's clear she’s nervous, looking you up at down as she stumbles out a greeting. “I need some new things… but I’m hoping we could be as discrete as possible?” You glance around the empty shop, the girl looks slightly offended in response, 
“Absolutely, Miss. Of Course.” Your smile softens, 
“Well in that case I could do with some help.” 
An hour and a half later you’re leaving, satisfied you have everything required to make an impression. You’re not 100% certain exactly how you made it through the ordeal, eventually agreeing to model for the assistant after she mentioned they didn’t have any further appointments booked for the day and she was, therefore, willing to close for you, on the understanding that you would be spending enough to make it worth their while. The experience was… different to say the least, you had never shopped for lingerie before; in fact, the only ‘lingerie’ you truly owned had been bought for you by Elvis. You’d happily modelled the sets he bought you for him but even they were somewhat similar to the underwear you already owned - pastels in cotton and the occasional velvet or satin. And honestly, he mostly bought you clothing, dresses and coordinating sets rather than underwear of any kind. You think it’s probably because he didn’t want to scare you off, knowing that you’re still rather timid in the bedroom despite certain… desires you may attempt to make plain to him. But never had you even tried on anything as revealing as your purchase today - you’d tried it on over your underwear, aware that not only were you not comfortable with the random sales girl seeing all you had to offer but that Elvis would, should he ever find out, go completely off the rails at the very idea.
By the time you get back, it’s mid-afternoon, and you sit and chat with Mary for a little while in the kitchen before pulling yourself together, deciding to go and have a long bath before you have to be ready for Elvis’ return. The hot water does the trick at revitalising you and it allows you to make sure every part of you is perfect for the night you have planned; making sure you’re buffed smooth everywhere that you require to be. You take your time moisturising every inch, the coconut vanilla scent you both favoured remaining long after you re-cap the tub.
Finally, you’re in your robe, looking down at the big white box in your hands, you hold it for a moment and sigh before placing it back down on the bed. You turn to look through a drawer instead, pulling out a couple of different options. What were you thinking this morning? There’s no way you can pull that outfit off! You rifle some more, sure that at the least there was the pink satin set Elvis bought you last month somewhere in there and that would probably do if you put in a little more effort. But alas, while you can find the bra the matching panties are not in there, you huff; how can there be half the set? 
The room you’re in is technically your bedroom, but it’s used as a dressing room since it houses all your clothes and you haven’t, despite how long you’ve been here now, slept a whole night in it. Despite the gorgeous bed adorned with all manner of frilly pillows and bedspreads, it was still a regular-sized queen frame and while it made you feel small in the centre of it - setting up the bed as if it were a twin with a singular set of pillows in the middle, Elvis claimed it was far too small and there was no need to stay there when he had such a large one next door. Disregarding the fact that wherever you slept he couldn’t help but crowd into you, or clutch onto you regardless of the width of the bed. 
You consider the options before you. Biting your lip in consternation for a second before remembering that if there was a mark Elvis didn’t put there himself he wouldn’t be too pleased. You dramatically sigh looking the box over again. Fuck it. The vulgarity of the phrase is unlike you even in your thoughts. ‘Fuck it’ you think again, ‘If I’ve got this far I might as well go the whole damn way.’ You pop the babydoll over your head so that you don’t have to mess with the perfectly tied ribbon in the centre and tug it so it lies correctly. The slits in the bodice falling directly where they should be and your breasts resting properly in the cups. It was…sheer. Very sheer. You knew it was, but seeing it fully without your underwear obscuring the visuals it seems even more daring than you expected. It’s so exceedingly different to your usual underwear, which were all, even the ones bought by Elvis, certainly opaque. Most of your underwear had still been bought by your mother and so your collection mostly consisted of sensible block colours and girlish utilitarian designs. The bottoms were also considerably smaller than most of your own, you assessed as you dragged the panties up your legs, which has been a deciding factor in why you bought the set - since they weren’t too outrageous but were still decidedly different. Instead of cutting across your legs at the top of your thighs, they curved upwards into a high-leg effect. This also meant that they were considerably slimmer in the coverage at the back than you would normally consider proper, and made from the same sheer material with a tiny strip of silk along the gusset. But then, you also wouldn’t have found buying lingerie, a negligee no less, with only ties to hold it closed in a sheer dark maroon red proper usually either. 
You stand and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. The overall effect was striking. Your skin looked paler in contrast to the depth of the colour and the blush you felt crawling over your chest and cheeks appeared to blend in, rosying your complexion twice over. You attempt a pose for a moment and debate if you should try to make your nipples harden or leave them as they are, knowing that the lack of structure to the garment will mean they’re probably going to be visible through whatever you decide to put on top. Suddenly you feel ridiculous, you’re not about to be in a goddamn centrefold. What are you playing at? You look like you’re playing dress-up. But when you glance over at the clock again you realise your time to make any changes has gone and if you want to be dressed by the time the boys get home you need to get a move on. Fast. You’d laid out a couple of options earlier and you decide to go for the safest bet, he loves green on you. It’s a little silk set - a long sleeve top with a high neck collar with little covered buttons going down the back and a matching mini skirt with a little flare to it. But when you put it on you realise that should you lift your arms it bares enough of your midriff that it spoils the surprise of the babydoll. So, thinking fast, you decide to simply hitch the skirt up high and tuck the shirt in. It causes the skirt to rise to an almost indecent height but the flounce at the bottom affords at least the illusion of length. 
As you’re buckling your shoes you can hear a murmur of a car driving up from the gates getting louder. ‘Just in time.’ you think as you quickly fix your hair, you wish you’d left yourself more time to do something else with it but shopping and the preparation for the evening had taken longer than you had planned so you were stuck with the teased hair and white scarf you’d tied into a headband from earlier. Luckily the white still goes well with your white socks and shoes. You could hear the boys laughing and the car doors closing and you hurried so you could greet them as they came through the door. Ridiculous as it may seem you were always excited to see him when he came home - he just seemed to have a magic touch that made everyone happy to see him regardless of how little time had passed since you last had him. 
The men burst through the doors just as you’d made it to the bottom of the stairs and you were pleased you’d made it that far because when Elvis comes in he immediately looks up and beams through his sunglasses at you when you’re the first thing he sees in the house. He comes forward to grab you around the waist and you stumble for a second before his grip steadies you, his hands hot on your sides, 
“Hey there, pretty mama.” You smile back at him, 
“Hey, handsome boy.” You lean up for a hello kiss, which he obliges, the rest of the group spill into the hallway, shouting their hellos and greetings at you on their way past. He looks down at you and smiles, 
“Whoo,” he lets out a whistle, “Baby, what are you all dressed up for? This all here for me?” He pushes you back and spins you around, your skirt flicking up slightly as it catches the slight breeze. You laugh, 
“Well, duh! Who else Daddy!” His smile grows even wider, and he pulls you up to him 
‘Well who indeed baby,’ he muttered against your lips, before kissing you again causing you to melt against him. 
——- 
Several hours later you’re all sitting around having after-dinner chats and drinks; both Elvis and yourself were nursing Pepsi’s but most of the rest of the group had felt free to avail themselves of his well-stocked bar. It was a pretty standard evening, nothing too rowdy and no strangers had been invited so it was just what Elvis would call family there tonight. He’d had you on his lap for most of the evening, placing you onto his thighs almost as soon as you’d finished eating, and then when you’d all moved into the den he’d made sure you knew he expected you perched between or on his legs. When you’d come back from the bathroom he’d not even paused in his conversation - simply holding out a hand and pointing to his thigh. Finally, you had thought, he’s showing an interest. He’s laughing and joking with the other boys while you sit there, jostling with every guffaw - his hand slips under your skirt, almost surreptitiously, although you’re sure everyone’s aware, and while you had been lazing against his chest you perk up slightly at the contact. 
You feel him brush the back of your bottom - his hand pauses for a second by the crease between your ass and thigh before he dances his fingers across, he eventually finds the leg band and snaps it lightly against your skin. You didn’t expect it so you jump a tiny bit, although it didn’t hurt, and his hand immediately soothes where he may have left a mark and while his conversation doesn’t falter you can almost hear the cogs whirring in his head. You bury your head in his shoulder to disguise your smile, and can’t help but squirm a little as he readjusts you - holding onto you with one hand as his other, the one closest to his body, slips up the front of your skirt. You let out a tiny breathy whine as his fingertips run across your panties - the barely there fabric allowing to you feel everything. He removes his fingers and taps your thigh causing you to sit up straighter. Clearly, he doesn’t intend on doing too much in public tonight. He lightly pushes you off as he makes a stand, starting to make his excuses. “Oh, It’s been a long day.” He grips you tight to him as he announces that unfortunately, he has to be going as he’s sure you’re "tired and need to be put to bed". You fight back a growl at that remark, you’re perfectly capable of putting yourself to bed thank you very much. But you don’t want to protest too much; it’s been hours since dinner was served and you were more than ready to leave. The longer you had to wait to show off your new purchases the more anxious you got. 
Elvis pushes you in front of him, slapping your ass playfully to get you to move, you quickly say goodnight to everyone left downstairs as you dutifully get moving towards the staircase. As soon as you’re out of the room Elvis grabs your wrist and pulls you back. He looks at you in the eyes for a moment, unblinking and you’re the first to break glancing down at his lips and back up. The second you looked away you’d lost and he immediately pounced, kissing you like he was dying without it. Your tongues fought for dominance for a moment, and his hand stayed clutching your arm while the other climbed up your chest to rest just below your neck. You acquiesce, submitting and letting him take complete control except for your hands finding their way into his hair. He pulls back and pushes you in front of him up the stairs, you hurry up them - near slipping once but thankfully his arm caught your elbow before you fell; 
“Eager darling?” He laughs at you, and looks you once over before throwing you over his shoulder and bounding up the last few stairs - he smooths your skirt down as you pass into his bedroom. He smacks your ass once, you yelp and he drops you gently on the bed, leaning over you to kiss your face and neck. One of his hands goes up to hold himself up, resting the other side of your head whilst the other strokes gently up your leg getting bolder and climbing up even further with every passing second. He presses his fingers against your panties and pauses again. Your breath catches in your throat. He sits up and pushes the skirt all the way up, he pulls back to look at you. He stares at your panties for a moment, you know by now the growing dampness has to be evident through the other side, they are after all very thin, before looking you up and down as a whole. 
“Is there…” His tone is gruff, both from momentary underuse and arousal, he coughs a tiny bit and his voice is even deeper when he continues, his words slightly slurring together, “more of this unner here?” He tugs at your shirt, and you nod, 
“Yes, baby, it’s a set.” He frowns for a second, before moving like a child unwrapping a present on Christmas morning, rushing to tug at the shirt again, moving his fingers to pop the top couple of buttons out when it doesn’t shift and grabbing hold when he deems you capable of getting your head out. You slither out of the shirt and allow yourself to be manhandled for him to access the zip on the side of the skirt, pulling it open and off your body in one pull. He takes a deep breath in and stands, taking a few paces back to appraise you better. His eyes darken as his pupils widen as he looks you over, and he crosses his arms, the veins in his forearms flexing. You thank god for his preference for short sleeve shirts for a second. You look up at him through your eyelashes, attempting to recreate the coquettish countenance that all the girls seem to have a knack for that you can never quite achieve. His eyes flash and his frown deepens. 
“God-almighty what’s this get-up all about?” You stare back at him stunned, he doesn’t seem pleased. In fact, he sounds downright pissed. 
“What…what do you mean?” He stares at you, not responding and like always you cave first. “What do you mean daddy? Don’t you like it?” You push yourself up onto your elbows looking at him with concern. He heaves a dry breathless laugh, and he leans back down, his hand rising up your stomach, through the break in the negligee and up to squeeze a breast, fingertips dancing over a nipple as he resumes kissing your neck, pulling you closer to get to your lips. He breaks apart briefly to speak, 
“You tryna kill your daddy sweetheart?” You laugh against his lips, laugh turning to a moan as he pinches a nipple particularly roughly and catches your bottom lip in his teeth. His fingers trail south again, and before you know it he’s tracing the line of your waistband, his fingers starting to dip beneath when you seem to lose all control of the situation. They’re not doing much more than simply resting there but even that is enough to set you alight. Your own hands start to travel down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt along the way, you buck up as his fingers graze past your naval circling around before going back to their ministrations below the panties. Your hips briefly touch his and you moan, 
“Daddy, please. Please. I’m all wrapped up just for you. For anything you like.” You take a shuddery breath in as he leans back to look at you again, his own lips looking bitten and swollen and his eyes burning brighter than you’d seen them in days. 
“Please Daddy, it aches.” His eyes roll back and he starts to stutter a response, his hips thrusting seemingly involuntarily forward. ‘Gotcha’ you think. You arch your back and through your hooded eyes you can see his expression perfectly he hungrily watches your own hand trail down to your soaked panties. You moan as your fingers touch your hot lips beneath your panties, spreading them apart and rubbing a finger between - and you look back at him, gazing into his eyes for a second before taking the chance. 
“Daddy, I feel so empty,” you squirm slightly for emphasis, and you glance down at his still fully clothed bulge, “You could….put it in me if you like?” His hips shutter forward and he breathes out heavily, his eyes closing briefly before he grimaces. Damnit - you were so close. You shouldn’t have pushed your luck - just taken the attention he’d not been recently bestowing on you happily and moved on. He stands up again, this time grabbing your forearm, yanking it out from between your legs and pulling you right up with him, like a rag doll you go where you’re put. He sits on the bed and pulls you around to sit facing him on his spread thighs. He hums for a second, one hand gripping tightly at your side, the other clutching your thigh. You drape your arms over his shoulders, simultaneously for balance and for lack of knowing what else to do with them. His hand on your side moves up to grip your neck as soon as you seem to start to relax. 
“My lil' girl a whore now?” You stare back at him. The tone was unkind and unnecessary - while he’s been stern with you in the past he’s never been so callously harsh before and you can’t imagine what he stands to mean by it. You look back at his face horrified for a moment, tears immediately starting to fill simply at his tone. 
“Daddy!” You respond in outrage, pulling your arms away, “What on earth do you mean! Do you not like the outfit?” He looks at you again, flicking the bottom of the babydoll with a finger; 
“Well honey, It’s not what daddy would have picked out for ya.” Your cheeks redden as you sputter back at him; 
“What’s wrong with it? I liked it! The girl at the store liked it!” At no point when you’d spent the day planning the evening had you expected he’d get you undressed and then not like the get-up. It was a scenario that had not even crossed your mind. His grip on your thigh tightens further.
“We-ell baby,” He starts to take on the educating tone he’s forced to put on so often in his movies, or rather the tone he ends up using in his movies because he does so often use it to talk to women, “I like it too but it’s not right for my innocent little girl. You’re not a whore waiting to be … fucked. at any given moment. You’re my sweet little baby doll and if you wanted new panties you should’ve come ‘ere and sat on daddy’s knee and asked for them.” You felt another rush of wetness at his words, even as your body burned with embarrassment, you attempt to push away from him but he holds you in place, 
“I’m not a child Elvis! I took myself to the boutique, I tried this on myself and I feel good in it! And who cares even if I was a whore!”
“Hell darlin’,” he laughs again briefly, “I oughta putcha over my knee for doin’ all this behind your daddy’s back. Let alone suggesting your daddy might be with a whore.” His tone changes again deepening further as his grip on your neck tightens for a second, holding your head in place. “Baby, I thought we’d been over this. You’re my dolly. My yittle bittle baby doll and that means I get to buy you new clothes, or underwear and dress you exactly how I want to.” He swats your ass, and his tone changes as he practically growls the next part, “1And that also means that you’re a whore if I say you’re a goddamn whore, and if I say you’re not then you’re goddamn not. Get it doll?” You squeak and nod as he grips your chin. “And my wittle girl is a good girl, so however much she wants it, she isn’t getting fucked by anyone but me. And that means she’ll have to wait until Daddy’s done the right thing. Understood.” His finger taps your cheek, your wetness has to be leaking through to his thigh by now, you can practically feel it seeping through the fabric. You hurriedly nod, 
“Yes! Yes, daddy.” He rewards you by hooking a finger into the crotch of your knickers and gently stroking from your clit down to your labia and back up again. He shifts you to balance on a single thigh rather than across the two, You rut against him, unable to stop yourself - catching his finger between your core and his own leg; his knuckle catches briefly on your clit and you feel sparks - almost like pins and needles shoot through your body. He pulls his hand away as soon as you rock back again, and stills your forward motion with his wet fingers against your middle - wrapping his arm around you to hold you in place against him, his hand once again sliding down to play with you although this time he kept you still - his lips are against your ear and he kisses just beneath your ear lobe and down to the crease of your shoulder before continuing to talk, 
“Honestly honey, I’ve got a good mind to put you over my knee anyway and give you a good dose of what happens to sneaky, naughty, dis’bedient little girls.” Your face burns and he laughs, jostling you on his lap before he pulls his finger out, wiping it on the mesh of your top on the way before considering for a moment and shoving it into your mouth with the firm instruction to 
“Taste how desperate you are for me.” He uses his other hand to pull at the ribbon holding the two sides closed, 
“I want this off, and my pretty little dolly back in her pretty little girl clothes, and maybe I’ll decide you don’t need that spanking after all.” He yanks it down and off of you, simultaneously gently but roughly pulling your arms out, akin to a tired mother forcing her baby’s arms out of their sleeper. Before screwing the fabric into a ball and flinging it against the wall. You don’t really understand - he can’t like your usual underwear, can he? And it took such a lot out of you to even go and get this set that to just have it thrown off upsets you.
“But, but wait a second Daddy, don’t you think it’s all a bit babyish? my mother bought most of my underwear.” You flinch slightly and put on your best pleasing eyes, “And… you’ve been ignoring me and this set really was a lot of money…”
He pauses again, before putting you upright between his legs to tug the panties off - you have no choice but to help by stepping out of them, still held by your arm and not wanting to stand there stupidly hobbled by the frankly, soaking panties, he talks as he strips you; 
“So that’s what this is all about? I’ve been ignoring you? I’ve been busy mama.” You start to protest again and he jumps in before you can say anything else, “I like your panties darling, but if you wanted something new you should’ve asked, I’d buy you the whole damn shop.” You scoff, 
“Yeah but only the ones that the pope himself would approve of.” He growls and grips your arm; chucking you over his legs. “No! Daddy! Elvis! I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that - you don’t have to do this!”
He smacks your ass hard, a handprint blooming in pink almost immediately - “Elvis!” you shriek. 
“Clearly, you need some remindin’ whether you got a ‘pinion on any of this,” his accent deepens - full words becoming lost and his sentences blending together as his breathing picks up, “and who your Daddy is.”
You’re not sure how he manages to stay so stern when he couldn’t keep a straight face delivering a similar line in Blue Hawaii - unless it’s simply that he truly does believe he has the right to do what he likes here; he’s not playing around with you. But that’s a thought you have later, in the moment all you can feel is the flood of heat between your legs from his word and all you can think is, ‘Lord above he’s smacking me hard.’
“You’re mine. Say it. Say you’re my dolly.” His hand smacks down again, he doesn’t hold back much. While he might treat you like china the rest of the time for some reason he truly seems to believe that it doesn’t count if he’s spanking your ass. Even his playful slaps are generally pretty hard - he doesn’t seem to feel the need to modulate his boisterous approach to activity if it applies to smacking you. He spanks you for probably only a minute, you squirming around the whole time, before he pauses and pulls you back closer to his body, you shriek when his hand comes down again, instead of leaving your body again he grips down - his fingertips turning where’s he’s clutching white amidst the pink-red of the rest of your ass. You take a shuddery breath, you feel like you’re on fire, and while you’re sure you should be trying to resist more you can’t help but melt at his rough actions. He lifts to go again and you panic, thinking that really you’ve had enough of this now and you start to plead,  
“I’m yours! I’m yours!” He smiles to himself, lowering his arm to pull you closer and leaning down to growl closer to your ears; 
“You’re my what?”
“I’m your doll! I’m your baby!” He chuckles, 
“That’s right baby, that’s right.” His hand slaps down a few more times before he stops to gently rub the marks he’d left, his thumb going in small circles. He hums for a second, 
“Now lil' baby, this isn’t the first time this has come up, so I’m starting to get that you might be serious about feeling …” his fingers tap on your cheek, “oh so empty”, he puts on a high-pitched voice in an attempt to mimic you, “So how’s bout this darlin’, my mind ain’t changing and I ain’t gonna be rushed but … why don’t we set a date?” Your heart jumps to your throat, he can’t seriously be asking you this, bright red bent naked over his lap. It’s too ridiculous for words, 
“Daddy, El-, Elvis, are you,” you push at his arms, twisting around, “are you serious baby?” 
“Serious as sin mama - but now don’t go getting it twisted - I’m not saying we’re gonna go out tomorrow - but …” he raps his fingertips on your sore ass consideringly, “how bouts next summer?” You paused briefly in your attempts to squirm around, 
“As long as you’re serious - you could promise five years from now and I’d be happy!” He laughs, 
“Well now that you mention it the new decade could be a plan.” he tugs you back up and you immediately fling your arms around him, 
“Thank you,” you kiss his neck, “Thank you,” his face, “Thank you,” his lips.
“Only you darlin’ could be put over my knee and come back up proposed to … you got me wrapped around your finger doll.” He squeezes your ass cheek and you squeal in response. 
“None of that now honey,” He shushes you, “Daddy don’t wanna hear you whinging and whining - you deserved every one of them handprints.” You look back up at him, making your eyes as big as you possibly can, 
“Aw, little mama that’s not fair - don’t look at me like that.” He’s now the one whinging, “Daddy’ll make it all better - he’ll kiss it better.” he lays you down and you bring your knees up, your legs spread looking at him between them; you can’t help but laugh at how eagerly he jumps onto the bed, settling between your thighs. He leans down again, your legs encasing him. He looks up at you, his face is slightly flushed and he looks overwhelmingly, ridiculously, happy - you can’t help but feel pride that out of all the girls in the entire world who want him you’ve managed to make him feel this way. He kisses your forehead, his open shirt tickling your sides as he leans over you, he’s suddenly your entire focus - all you can see, smell and feel is him.
“We’ll hafta make it official baby, why dontcha pick a ring out from Daddy’s box in the morning for now and Daddy’ll go shopping soon?” You nod frantically, narrowly missing bumping heads with him. You lean up to catch his lips again, he’s unable to simply kiss; his teeth catching on your lips. Your head rolls back and you can’t help the noises that are coming out of your mouth - you’re practically keening as he moves down to mouth at your jaw and neck. He slides down further, peppering your chest in kisses - he sucks just below your collarbone, leaving you gasping and a bruise sure to bloom. 
“For now though darlin’ let’s get this feeling better.” He swats your ass and you yelp - 
“That’s not…That’s not better El-“ You break off as he kisses down your naval, his hands gripping your hipbones and his thumbs rubbing circles. 
“Just relax baby, Daddy’ll take care of you.” He kisses just above your mound and you can’t help but thrust up slightly. 
“No, no. Stay right there sweetheart, stay right there and I’ll take care of you. Wanna make the most of my good little girl before you become my wife.” He pushes your hips down, and then spreads your thighs further - “Daddy’ll kiss it better, make you forget about your sore ass.”
It’s one of his talents, he almost might be as good at it as he is at singing. He licks a stripe down before focussing on your burning core, his tongue slipping in and out as he rubs his thumbs over your clit, his hands holding you open for him. He sucks and nibbles like he has toand you can feel the edge building as he moves his hands to hold your thighs and down and sucks on your clit. Your hips grind in circles, and despite his efforts to hold you down you can’t help but push down and he responds by pushing back - simply sucking harder than before. Your body shudders as you head for an orgasm and you tremble as he lets go with a kiss to the spot he was sucking before once again licking down to your entrance. 
“Lawdy baby you’re drippin’.” He stands up and looks down at you, before heaving you up, you stand on shaky legs for only a moment before he hoists you back, sitting himself on the bed and pulling you down - your back against his chest. His thigh slots between your leg, and you can feel his burning hot length against your side - he wraps an arm around you pulling you tight to him as your sweaty bodies slide against each other. Your head rocks back onto his shoulder and he leans down. It’s an awkward angle and you’re sure your neck will be sore after this but you wouldn’t ever be the one to end it. He’s practically clutching at you - his hand that wasn’t curled around your waist keeping your head in place and kissing you with a dizzying force. He pulls back and you pant, his hand trailing down your body, thumb brushing your nipple, each little movement causing you to shiver. 
It eventually reaches between your legs and with a single finger, he strokes down both sides of your labia before circling your clit. Your breathing is heavy now, erratic, and you can hear and feel his similar change of pattern against your neck, his head dipping down to kiss your shoulder. He pulls you tighter so that you’re leaning more heavily against him as he shuffles back - allowing him to lean on the heavily pillowed headboard. He spreads your labia with two fingers and you would, if you had any presence of mind left, be embarrassed at how his fingers just slipped with how wet you are. He dips a single finger into you, and you shudder around him, it’s obscene how close you are to orgasm that that almost sets you off, he chuckles against your shoulder before crooking his finger - your back arches as he strokes your walls. He kisses you again and then he pulls almost all the way out, before going back with two fingers. Your hips are circling of their own accord again now, grinding back down on him. You can feel his cock against your back still, and you wobble on his fingers and thigh as he releases your waist to pump it a couple of times. 
“Think you can do three, little?” You frantically nod and he goes to slip in a third, your eyes widen as he goes to push it in alongside the other two, thumb rubbing your clit. It feels much bigger than just simply an extra finger, although his are pretty large, and you feel the burn (despite your wetness) in a way you haven’t since the first few times he touched you like this. His arm has encircled your waist again, so he feels how you jump as he attempts to slide in past his first knuckle and wince as he wiggles his fingers. 
“See baby,” His voice is impossibly deep, and his hair brushes your neck as he speaks close to your ear, “Daddy knows best. Your tight little cunt can barely take my fingers, honey, it’s too small for much more still. Daddy’s gonna hafta open you up for next year, train your little wittle hole up.” Your mouth falls open, and he pulls the third finger out - crooking the other two in you - rubbing against your walls, and your hands clutch at his arms as you rock against him. “Can I- Baby, can I just rub against ya?” You nod frantically, grinding your hips down on his fingers and he slips them out to lift you up, placing you more squarely against him so he’s able to slip his cock under you. Rubbing it against your pussy, it knocks against your clit and you shudder - his hands lift you and pull you back and forth, you’re going to have bruises on your hips after this, and your sore ass is being knocked against him but it all just adds to the pleasure you’re feeling. 
His hips start thrusting, hard, but impossibly fast - his penis sliding between your lips, your slick and his precum mixing for lubrication. He knocks against your clit, and your head throws back onto his shoulder in pleasure. It only takes a minute or so before he slams you back, and the involuntary grinding of your hips continues even as thrusts start to falter, he’s groaning behind you like a dying man, and the next second he’s cumming. He rubs it through your folds, his cum mixing with the rest of your fluids down here, making it extra slippy across his fingers - he pushes it into your pussy, slicking his way for just the two of his fingers again although you’re sure with the extra lubrication you could take more, and he crooks his fingers just so. His thumb coming up to rub against your clit once again, and everything is so sticky and it feels so wrong in a delicious way. He plays your body like he does guitar, and you’re already so close to the edge that it only takes a few seconds of him stroking you before you’re shuddering against him, mouth open. He rubs you through it, only stopping once you whine at him and attempt to buck off his hands - the overstimulation too much. You roll over, off of him and he slumps next to you. You’re still seeing stars a moment later when he taps your tummy with his sticky hand, 
“Whoo,” He whistles lowly, his eyes closed, “mama, what a night.” You glance over at him, you’re having a struggle trying to process all that’s just happened. He glances over at the bundle of lingerie lying against the wall and back at you, huffing a little laugh “God you little minx, can’t believe you bought that. I really do like you in your regular stuff though honey. I really do. You’re my little yittle, I’ve just been busy baby.” You smile, it didn’t take much but you’re convinced, it never takes much where Elvis is concerned. He seems to have some sort of mystical power for it. 
“I know Daddy, sorry for trying to make ya…you know.” He pars your thigh, “I do love you…. were you…” You wonder if you shouldn’t just be grateful for what you’ve just had and leave your questions for later, but you’ve just got to know for sure, “you were being serious earlier weren’t you?” You panic in the afterglow that his earlier promise may have been empty - but you should know by now he doesn’t make empty promises. 
“Shit, baby, yes.” He tugs your arm, rolling you into his side, leaning down for a kiss, “We’ll sort it all out tomorrow.” You kiss him back, and then pull back, curling into his side. 
He waits for a moment or two before placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead as he heaves himself up and heads to the en-suite. You’re half asleep when he’s gently wiping you down with a damp washcloth, and barely cooperative as he pulls a pair of your, regular, panties up your legs. You look up at him with hooded, sleepy eyes as you see him considering your nightgown before clearly deciding against it. He disappears into the bathroom again and you slip out of sleep as he climbs into the bed, helping you under the covers his silk pyjamas brushing against your bare skin. He pulls you against him and you’re fast asleep in seconds. 
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sosa2imagines · 4 months
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I had my dance and now I'm where I belong. Part 5
----------------------------------------------------- Warnings- Angst for Bucky, Fluff for all (This part will mostly focus on Bucky facing the consequences) ----------------------------------------------------- Part 6 -----------------------------------------------------
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Saying yes to go on a date with Steve was the best decision of your life! On your first date he took you to an Italian restaurant and was the perfect gentleman, on your way you had notice few girls drooling over him trying to get his attention but he kept looking ahead and at you, ignoring everyone else. Like only you existed on the planet. Steve made you feel better, feel worthy of love again like there was a light at the end of the dark tunnel.
On the other hand ever since Bucky thought about you his head has not been in the right place. Sharon did finally showed up that night in a disheveled state hair a mess, lipstick all over her mouth but Bucky was too tired to notice, but that didn't stop Sharon from being mad at him for the mess in the room ignoring his painful state she kept the lights on purposefully to annoy Bucky which resulted in him sleeping on the couch, you would never do this to him he thinks about you again.
But that was just the beginning, they would have little and minor arguments here and there like any other couple would but than they turn into more serious and loud arguments. It was only few months into the relationship when the arguments started getting intense that led to resolving their issues by having make up sex and things would go back to normal for awhile. 
Even when some random girl would flirt with him Sharon won't confront him unlike you, again he compared you and her. Sharon had a simple solution for everything 'sex'. It would be a huge lie if Bucky said he was not getting fed of it. Sharon was in the mood but Bucky gently denied her instead suggesting her to cuddle and talk, naturally she scoffed still determined she cupped his dick but that only made Bucky yell at her "Can't you for once do something else other than sex?" Sharon removed her hand only to hit Bucky with the pillow which again resulted in him sleeping on the couch for god knows how many times in his own room!
That made him think about his situation relationship with Sharon. She knew Bucky was dating you, yet neither of them pulled away from the kiss and one thing led to another and Bucky slept with her for the entire trip. He knew he shouldn’t have continued things further with Sharon after that mission, yet the sneaking around gave him an adrenaline feeling, he enjoyed it. Their sneaking and love affair continued, at one point Bucky did find himself beginning to fall for Sharon and he was also beginning to be even happier with her. 
But than Steve came back, of course he beat him up and Tony did to but both of them said the same thing Sharon will screw this, but how? He started to miss out the little things like hanging out with his friends, enjoying movie nights, playing games, cooking, then he also started missing you the time spent with you how it was not just about only sex, you guys would cuddle, talk for hours without getting bored, go for long walks and help him whenever he had nightmares. Sharon eventually did helped him in the beginning but later on she started to get annoyed she would tell him to suck it up be man enough, on those nights he missed you and Steve terribly, you both would help him in unique ways that made him sleep peacefully.
But now those are only memories and now he lost his friends that are family along with you now he is living with just friends who barely talk to him. Somewhere deep inside he was realizing his mistake he was no longer enjoying infact he was suffering but his ego and pride was bigger at the moment to make him accept the truth.
Few days later few important CIA agents had come to work along side Shield and Tony was more than happy to entertain them especially one particular person 'NICK FOWLER' no one knew he was with the other agents. When Sharon saw the agents she knew instantly helping them would do wonders to her career. So she was casually chatting, flirting, all this was being witness by Bucky who was fuming smoke coming from his ears. He drag Sharon away from them to a corner she was quick to yank her arm away "What the hell are you doing?" She yelled at him "What I'm doing? what are you doing flirting with them?" "That's rich coming from you" "What's that suppose to mean?" "As if you don't flirt with others" "So is this payback?" "Oh honey I don't do paybacks now suck it up you look so cute when jealous" she patted his cheek and left. Their bickering did not go unnoticed by Nat who was smirking.
But Bucky went into a guilt trip as soon as he heard those words 'you look so cute when jealous' that's what he used to say to you whenever you would talk to him about his behavior, in that moment Bucky realized how you must have felt. He never even said sorry to you. Just then he saw Sharon again not just flirting but getting way to close for comfort. The way they were glancing at each other, the way his hand was roaming on her something, no not something, everything felt wrong. "That's Nick Fowler" Tony cuts his train of thoughts "What?" Bucky asks in confusion "CIA agent Nick Fowler, rest of the agents will head back but he is going to stay for a day or two" Tony smiled. "Rogers hates him if he was here that man would have been dead." Tony adds more to Bucky's confusion. "Why?", "Hmm" Tony acts like he thinking smirking he shrugs "Ask Capsicle, a little friendly advice though, keep an eye on those two Cap was lucky not so lucky can't say the same about you" "Wait, what?" Before Bucky can ask anything Tony was gone.
Back at home after another awesome date- "You are quiet today" he asks playfully "I'm thinking" "Can I know what are you thinking about?" You nod looking at the ground blushing hard "I think I'MFALLINGINLOVEWITHYOU" in one breath you confessed what Steve was dying to hear. Steve literally choked on air you had to pat his back "Jesus I didn't know you would react this way, are you okay?" "No I mean yes what did you say? slowly please" You wide your eyes closing them taking a deep breath opening again you look into his eyes "I love you Steve" you tell him pressing your lips back to his. Steve made you feel safe, feel like he would never hurt you in anyway, especially in the way Bucky did. Unlike with Bucky, being with Steve felt secure. There was no doubt that he would be a loyal, loving man.
Ever since Nick Fowler had entered the Tower Sharon was spending more time with him. Bucky was losing his patience. She was hardly with him. Bucky even tried to lure her with promise of a mind blowing sex but she just pushed him away saying she is busy working. "Hey man how does it feel?" Sam asks enjoying the frustration of Bucky. "What do you want?" Bucky asks him clearly annoyed "Y/n felt same when you ignored her only difference is she was not cheating on you" Sam furrowed his brows trying to put some sense into Bucky's brain. But before Bucky could say anything the elevator door opened revealing Sharon and Nick giggling, random blabbering and holding hands. Sam whistled and left the trio alone.
"Where were you?" Bucky barks anger clearly visible, Nick just smirks he hugs Sharon and not so gently squeezes her waist giving Bucky a look and heads towards his room. "What was that?" "What was what Bucky what's gotten into you? We just went out for dinner", "For four hours?" "We lost track of time, aww are you angry? baby you look so cute when you are jealous" again those words something snaps in him he drags Sharon to their room pushes her against the wall he tears apart her shirt and before he can proceed he stops. "What are these?" he asks pointing his finger to the marks on her neck and collarbone. Sharon looks in the mirror and all the color drains out from her face. Bucky's mind flashed him the image of Sharon's disheveled face from many nights ago. "GET OUT!"
----------------------------------------------------- Part 6 ----------------------------------------------------- TAGLIST- @differenttyphoonwerewolf @nouk1998 ----------------------------------------------------- (Hey lovely people why do you think Steve hates Nick? Hope you all enjoy this part finally Bucky getting what he deserves, I know I have dragged it long but I really don't won't to make the parts way too long to read. As always feedback is appreciated lots of love to you all 😁❤️. Sneak peek- Since I dragged it too long, Sharon will be kicked out tomorrow but she will ask someone else to help her and someone else of that some else will slap her 😂) -----------------------------------------------------
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skulla-rxcks · 5 months
Text
Dare
Paring: Seungmin x afab Reader
Rating: explicit
Genre: smut, after college au
Warnings: bl0wjobs, truth or dare gone spicy
Day 25 of k-tober
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Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28
!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!
Our old friend group decided to meet up and hang out after years of not seeing each other, mainly because half of us went to a different college; it did cause some people to leave our circle which made me disappointed to say the least. But hey, everyone moves on eventually right?
Tonight’s the meet up and I’m currently getting ready. I slip on a black leather dress and some boots to match with it, though I did rush my hair and makeup due to the fact it’ll take a while to get to Han’s house.
Once everyone has arrived we decide to play a game of truth or dare to catch up with how everyone’s been. First few things are normal stuff and then it slowly gets steamier with stuff like ‘i dare you to strip’ or ‘how many times have you fucked someone in the last 6 months’ but none of those were asked to me, until it does happen.
“So what you’re saying is.. you dare us to ‘do stuff’ right here?” I ask, confused and mad at why such a ridiculous dare was put on Seungmin and I.
“Mhm. Thats exactly what I said, a dare is a dare.” Hyunjin responds, a smirk beginning to form on his face. “No, i refuse. No fucking way am I going to suck him off in front of EVERYONE here! And plus, who even knows if he’s okay with it?” I yell. Seungmin looks at me after my sudden outburst, a hint of a soft red forming on his cheeks.
“I am okay with it..” he mumbles, moving closer to me until our sides touch. “I’m okay if you do it.. I’m okay if you touch me.” he repeats. slowly standing up and unbuckling his pants. The others eyes widen as they begin looking at how straight forward he’s being with this; I guess he’s probably really god damn eager for me to touch him. Which is totally understandable, I guess I would be too.
I get on my knees and help him pull his boxers down, a short gasp coming out of my mouth as I watch his cock spring out, standing free infront of my face. “oh wow.. your dicks so Fucking pretty.” I mutter under my breath. I turn around at Look at the boys faces, flustered and shocked that this is actually happening, I decide to stick my ass out making sure my dress makes my panties show off to all of them. “fuck my mouth baby~” I moan out, licking a stripe under his dick starting from his balls and ending at this tip. “Fuck you taste good.” I take him into my mouth and begin sucking him off, my hand travelling down my body and rubbing my cunt through the material of my underwear before taking it off and popping my pussy out for all of the guys to see. After he cums in my mouth I moan in delight and help him button his pants back up before sitting down with him.
The next dare comes. “I dare you to ride Seungmin for the next 15 minutes straight.”
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wooahaeproductions · 8 months
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Good Morning Kisses
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Na Jaemin x Female Reader
Genre: Established Relationship, Smut, and Fluff
Word Count: 567
Warnings: very domestic, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), and other acts of sex implied
Rating: 18+
A/N: My dear Patricia @just-come-baek, here is your one and only (I won’t tell Joshua 😝) I hope you like it!
One of The Kissing Booth drabbles
~Bee
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Light from the morning sun streamed in the room, slowly waking you from your slumber. While you were not fully awake, your eyes remained closed and images of last night played underneath your eyelids.
You giggled as Jaemin shut his apartment door, pinning and caging you to the back of it with a hungry kiss. “Shall we take this to the bedroom?” he asked with a grin, breaking the kiss. You nodded furiously, not masking your eagerness. Despite dating him for the past 6 months, you could never get enough.
He pulled your arm, leading you to his bedroom where the two of you toppled onto the bed. You placed your arms around his neck as he sucked at the sweet spot near your collarbone, making you sigh. Jaemin kissed over your shoulder, pulling your shirt with him until he had pulled it off entirely.
You moved your hands down his back and under his shirt, feeling how toned it was before you pulled his shirt off too. You sucked in a breath out how gorgeous he looked in just his jeans. Next, he had unclasped your bra and was littering kisses from your breasts down to the edge of your pants.
“Jaemin…” you breathed out.
“Say my name again, baby,” Jaemin said, unbuttoning your jeans.
“Jaemin,” you said again and your jeans had been pulled off, revealing your panties that had already started to wet at your core. He pulled them to the side, ghosting a fingertip over your clit. You bit your lip at the feeling. Jaemin smirked at how damp you were for him.
“Let me make you feel good,” he declared and you could only nod, feeling his breath on your core as he spoke. He leaned forward and clasped his lips over your bud, pulling the first moan from you. He swirled his tongue over it before flatting the warm muscle and licking a long stripe at the entrance of your core.
Now you had buried your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. He continued to lick and slurp as the coil in your stomach began to tighten. Once he was sure you were wet enough, he pushed one of his fingers in. He pumped it in and out slowly before putting his second finger in.
He curled them upwards hitting your sweet spot and you let out a whine. He chuckled and continued to curl them. He felt you clenching around his digits and knew you were barely hanging on. “You can clench that pretty pussy around my dick after this if you cum for me now,”
Jaemin knew the dirty talk would push you over the edge and with a few more pulls of his fingers, the coil snapped. “Oh my god, Jaem,” you squealed, your thighs shaking as your orgasm hit you.
Letting you ride it out, Jaemin pulled himself back up to you. “That’s a good girl,” he said, kissing your forehead. That was just the beginning of your endeavors that night and you would be properly spent soon.
You felt Jaemin stir next to you as you slowly opened your eyes. You were met with his warm brown ones as he leaned over, kissing you tenderly on the forehead. “Good morning, love,” he said as he pulled back and his eyes crinkled into crescents when he smiled gently at you.
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