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#he’s seen what happens. he knows it will be rough. he knows it’ll be much worse for him who wasn’t drifted then for newt who has. yet he
going insane over the fact that happiness and care and concern and love is underneath every interaction between newt and hermann in pacific rim
#HEAR ME OUT. they’re introduced and newt and being a groupie and behind him hermann is all huffing and rolling his eyes and shaking his#head but he’s Not Angry. no. he jumps to defend newt albeit in a somewhat mocking and sarcastic way BUT THE THOUGHT IS THERE. and then when#hermann is rambling on about numbers being the handwriting of god newt is in the background smiling and laughing and making silly#hand motions and yes the hand motion was a bit mocking BUT THATS THEIR WHOLW THINF. anyways i’m not done. when newt drifts with the kaiju#and pentecost is there talking to him and hermann and newt r yelling back in forth u can hear the unease and shakiness in their voices and#especially the frustration in hermanns. he’s frustrated abt newt risking his life and is worried abt that which translates out in anger.#and yeah maybe he’s salty abt being proven wrong too lmao. BUT CONTINUING ON. stacker could have just told newt to go to hannibal chau and#he would have done it. but instead they watch the film of him on HERMANNS computer as HERMANN controls the computer to look at the film. if#thé film was shown it was for a reason. newt doesn’t seem like the type to need reassurance abt chau before he goes. he was willing to die#for his trash drift. and stacker gave him the card and info so there’s no need to do anything else. the video is most likely there for the#viewers but it needs a reason to be there in the show. hence my reasoning that HERMANN asked to see it out of concern for newt who would be#doinf this alone. hermann demanded to see some proof to reassure himself. stacker having the card on him makes sense. him having that bulky#tape doesn’t. meaning hermann pressured him into leaving getting the tape and coming back to show him. anyways one more bit. so the drift.#hermann is clearly scared out of his mind and thinking abt the impending triple event. yet he still drifts with newt he does it to protect#him to take part of the neural load. and it takes a toll on hermann it makes a big enough mess of his brain that he ends with him bleeding#and shaking and sweating and coughing and throwing up. and he knew it would take a toll. he knew it would be a lot he’s seen the jaegers.#he’s seen what happens. he knows it will be rough. he knows it’ll be much worse for him who wasn’t drifted then for newt who has. yet he#still does it to help newt and to show his care and trust and concern and love and THEYRE DRIFT COMPATIBLE U DONT UNDERSTANDABLE HOW#EMOTIONAL I AM OVER THIS FUCKING OVER THEM#anyways one last thing. the way that they full body slapping each other on the back bear hugged when the throat collapsed (they were behind#herc and tendo so it was a little hard to see. i missed it the first time) in pure adrenaline happiness before we see the quiet tender hug#when they know everything is over for good (for now at least) when it’s time to celebrate when it time to think abt their drift and their#bond and their relationship and their LOVE. i’m so ok abt them rn actually#toad.txt#i wish i wrote this in a keep reading bit and not the tags now. anyways#pacific rim#pacific rim spoilers#newton geiszler#hermann gottlieb#newmann
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cutecatlov3r · 8 months
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oh to be ran through by denki, sero, katsuki, and kirishima…
what would it be like? college au
a/n: bro I haven’t posted in forever ! but maybe I’m back for awhile ? you should check out my c.ai bots :3 dekusquad ver here .
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it’ll start off with the five of you chilling in sero’s college dorm. you five all just playing games and chatting. until denki realizes there is literally a girl in the room with the four of them. the reality of the situation, you’ve been their friend for a few years... why the hell hasn’t he thought of this sooner?! he’s seen too much porn to know what could go down.
so when you go to the bathroom he talks to the boys about the situation he’s playing in his head.
“well we could always try to convince her, I mean she’s been our friend for years and I’d be so down to fuck her,” he spoke unashamed.
next thing you know, you’re fully convinced on letting it happen, the boys basically begging you to let them inside of you .
Bakugou obviously going first. he has to be the number one in everything. so when you allow him to fuck you, he’s the one to take off your clothes, being rough. he’ll rip them up, not caring. when he whips out his cock it’s long and thick, slapping against his abdomen as it is released.
“g’na fuck you nice and good, you slut”
and he does, he wastes no time plunging into you deeply. of course you didn’t really need foreplay due to the fact it turned you on to see them all begging for you to fuck them. as he fucks you in a mating press he will pull your hair. it’s a little off because he’s making out with you so sensually and sweet but his cock is ramming into you, only caring for it’s own pleasure.
“fuck… fuck you’re so tight, stop squeezin’ around me like that, dumbass…” he pants, voice a little raspy.
the boys watching, the heat inside them unbearable. just looking at your whiny face as bakugou fucks deep in you makes them so needy and heated.
he keeps going hard, his tip occasionally grazing against your cervix.
in the end, bakugou will gladly cum deep inside you, filling you up. pulling out he’ll watch it seep out, using his fingers to fuck it back into your hole.
Sero is next, looking down at you as you whine due to bakugou’s cum spilling on to your thighs. it was an uncomfortable feeling but you sort of liked it.
“don’t worry sweetheart… i will be nice and slow” he hums, kissing your neck, groping your ass.
he takes off his pants as he’s kissing you, placing you on his lap. his cock was long, not as girthy as bakugou’s cock but it looked a bit longer. he groans as he slips inside your wet and sloppy cunt. he rolls your hips, his cock rubbing against your g-spot as he rolls them.
he leans his back on the ledge of the couch, getting a good view of your sticky pussy moving up and down his cock. he loved the squelching noises it made. it was so erotic… the boys watching also loved it, they fucking needed you.
towards his climax he grabs you close, pressing your chest against his as he pistons his cock inside you, chasing his high.
“s-shit! fuck- ah- im gonna fucking cum… yeah, yeah, right in your slutty pussy”
you were moaning and creaming around his dick. the rutting hitting your g-spot over and over again. you were out of breath and he just kept going, holding you tightly so you couldn’t use your arms to get away from his body.
eventually he came inside you. his cum mixing around with bakugou’s. both of their bodily fluids leaking out of your slutty hole.
Denki happily offers to go next, it was his idea after all. look, he’s a pervert whose down for anything, he doesn’t even want his dick inside your messy cunt that was still leaking of sero and bakugou’s cum, instead he honestly wanted to give you a facial. so when you looked at him with your dazed eyes, he grabbed your chin, nodding his head to the floor.
“come on baby, on your knees for me” he smiled happily with a small chuckle.
you got on to your knees, looking up at denki. he held your cheek as he took out his hardened cock. it slapped against your face… your eyes glued to the pink tip that leaked of precum. he was pretty long, you’ll give him that.
without warning though, he shoved his dick right in between your cute soft lips, letting out a little whine. one hand gripped your hair, the other holding his shirt up so he can see as your tongue glided against him.
“s…so warm…” he moaned, eyes shutting slightly. though he did reach down to squeeze your breast, pinching your hard nipple.
your head bobbed on his cock, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. with your hand you fondled with his balls which caused an audible groan as he thrusted into your mouth more.
spit was rolling down your chin. your eyes fluttering as you looked up at denki who now has his shirt in his mouth. he gripped it with his teeth, his free hand grabbing some more of your hair and he thrusted his hips more.
after hitting the back of your throat, it caused him to go a bit crazy, moving faster, balls slapping against your chin. he was whining and moaning, feeling like he was gonna explode. he pulled out just in time, you stuck out your tongue as he painted your face white.
“that’s it babygirl… all over your face…” he panted, slapping his tip against your tongue.
Kirishima was last, he frowned looking at you, you were so messy.
“let me clean you up” he said softly, taking off his shirt to clean off your cute little face. he brought his shirt down to your cunt, cleaning it off, along with your thighs. there was still sero and bakugou’s cum inside you but he wasn’t gonna worry about cleaning that up. afterwards he sighed happily. he brought you to his lips, placing soft kisses against yours.
“It’s okay… you did so good for us today, y/n. thank you for letting me have the opportunity to please you” he smiled, laying her on the couch gently.
he took the hair out of your face, smiling down at you so sweetly. he started to remove his pants and my god… his cock was huge. it was so fat that it hung low even though he was hard as hell. you were in for it.
“not gonna hurt you, okay? if you need me to stop, I will. i will stop immediately,” he said, softly to which you nodded, propping yourself on your elbows to watch him sink into you. he went slow and steady, one of his hands by your head to balance himself. he was stretching your hole out, you felt so full.
he let out a soft moan as he kept trying to push himself deeper in you.
“g-gonna move now, okay?” he panted, his hips making a bit of movement. his thumb played with your sensitive clit as he made the small fulfilling movements. he rubbed you gently, the rubbing causing you to moan and his cock making you see stars.
a white ring was around his cock, your juices and the other boys around him as he made his small movements.
he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. this thumb rolling around the nub, he knew how to please a woman.
and out of everyone, he made you cum. you squeezed around his dick as you came, causing him to moan. he went down to your chest, sucking your nipples as you felt your bliss. he made sure you came before him, his hips now picking up the pace, your pussy tight around him, your walls clenching in overstimulation.
he went at a moderate pace not to hurt you, pulling out to cum on your stomach, he gave you a sweet kiss, wiping off the cum with his shirt that was on the floor.
“you did so good today, we are so proud of you, y/n”
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theragethatisdesire · 10 months
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pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!
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there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)
pairing: reader x jean kirschtein
wc: 4.6k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie
this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3
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-> be there in 5 babe :)
You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.
Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.
The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.
You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.
“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”
“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.
“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.
You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”
Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”
You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”
“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.
“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”
“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.
“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”
Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”
“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”
His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”
“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”
“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.
“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.
“That it?”
“I guess.”
“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.
“Yeah.”
“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.
“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”
“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”
Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”
“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”
That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”
Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”
“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”
“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”
That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”
“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”
“No.”
“Submissive, then.”
“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.
“Like to be tied up?”
“Already told you about the handcuffs.”
“I bet you have a praise kink.”
That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”
Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”
“Sure.”
“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”
“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.
“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.
“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.
“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”
“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.
“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”
“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.
“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”
You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.
A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.
“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”
“Mhm,” you hum.
“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”
He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.
Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”
“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.
“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”
You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”
Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”
You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.
“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”
Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”
Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.
“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”
You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.
You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.
“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.
“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”
You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.
“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”
You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.
“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”
“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.
Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.
“Need something?”
“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.
“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.
“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”
Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”
“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”
“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”
“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.
“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.
“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”
You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:
“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”
Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”
“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.
“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.
“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”
“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.
“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”
The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.
Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.
“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”
“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”
“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”
Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.
“Want me to fuck you?”
“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”
You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.
“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”
You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.
“I’m not going to warn you again.”
“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.
You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.
“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.
“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”
“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”
“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”
You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.
“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.
“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”
You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”
“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”
“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”
“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”
Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”
“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.
“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”
You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”
You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.
“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”
“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”
“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.
“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”
“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 
“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”
“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”
“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”
That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.
Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.
“You okay?”
You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”
Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”
“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”
Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”
“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”
You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”
“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”
Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”
“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”
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thedreamlessnights · 5 months
Text
Fixation
Ascended Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW
Synopsis: When a mistranslated ancient spell goes wrong, you're forced to suffer the consequences. Astarion takes a keen interest in your... predicament.
Warnings and tags: 18+ (and I cannot stress this enough), aphrodisiac spell, Spawn!Tav, established relationship, possessiveness. Brief referrals to the Rite of Profane Ascension and Cazador. Fingering, oral sex (receiving), blood drinking, multiple orgasms, slightly rough sex. Brief overstimulation, praise, mild degradation, uses of the terms 'pet' and 'consort.'
Word Count: 4.7k
A/N: And here's the second of my parallel aphrodisiac fics for Non-Ascended vs. Ascended Astarion! It was honestly very interesting to write the differences between them. The Non-Ascended one is much softer than this - please mind the tags!
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The book must be hundreds of years old, but it feels warm in your hands. You’ve perused it inside and out, practically memorizing the faded runes. Fixation. It’s a weakness of yours. 
Still, how often is it that you find an ancient book of spells? Who knows if you might discover some long-lost secret buried within the pages. And, yes: you’re bored. 
Your messy translations are not ideal for this sort of thing, which is exactly why you’ve chosen a basic spell to start with. It’s mid-afternoon, quiet and still, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating the room. 
The long-forgotten words flow from your mouth like honey - as if they’ve been waiting for centuries just to be said. Light and sweet, they settle into the room and linger for just a moment. Some spells can be felt in the very air, manifesting as an electric haze that tickles the lungs, but not this one. When the sound of your voice fades away, the only sign that the spell has worked is a gentle heat that settles in your skin.
For a long moment, you kneel, studying the small scrape on your finger and waiting for something to happen. If you’d translated correctly, this should have been a basic healing spell with enough capacity to mend small cuts and burns. An increasingly pleasant heat builds in your veins, but the scrape remains untouched.
It should have worked by now. But if it wasn’t a healing spell, then…
Your eyes turn back to the pages, flickering between the references you’d found and the runes. Something connects. A line you hadn’t seen. A word you hadn’t added. The runes on the page - they’re not for healing, like you’d thought. But if they don’t mean health, then…
You stare at it a moment longer.
Lust. 
“Oh. Oh, gods.”
You rise to your feet like you’ve been slapped. The heat is bearable for now but growing incessantly, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. No counterspell. No healing potion. Anything you try could just as well make it worse. Which poses the question: what the hells are you going to do?
You suck in a deep breath.
First things first: you need to get out of this room. The air is feeling like it might strangle you. 
The chill of the hall greets you sweetly as you pace up and down the walkway, weighing your options. A spell this simple shouldn’t last long. It’ll most likely linger for only a few hours, then dissipate. It doesn’t seem dangerous. It’s not painful. Not yet, at least.
You could lock yourself in the cellar for the night, but that isn’t exactly appealing. The bedroom wouldn’t work, either. It’s Astarion’s room too, after all.
Astarion. Just the thought of him sends sparks flaring through you. It ladles heat into a very pleasant spot in your abdomen, and something flutters deep in your gut. Gods, what you wouldn’t give for him to be touching you.
But he cannot find out about this. By the hells, he can’t ever find out, because if he does, you will never live this down. Which leaves two options: you can either go to dinner and attempt to act like you’re fine, or you can try to hide away in one of the rooms and wait it out. 
Neither one is ideal. Being physically near him, he’ll be able to read you like a book - which makes dinner a very dangerous concept. But if you neglect to show up at all? He’ll be even more suspect. He’ll certainly seek you out and find out the truth in the end.
So. Dinner it is. 
You’ll just have to keep yourself composed, somehow. If only doing was as easy as thinking. But do you really have a choice?
No, you think. 
You don’t.
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As soon as he’s through the door, Astarion’s eyes are on you. They always seem to be, these days. Ever since the Ascension. His dark consort, his right hand. His, for whatever he wants. He never seems to see you like he used to, but the sting of that faded long ago. Another thing lost to the ritual.
“Hello, my treasure,” he greets.
You offer him a smile as he takes your hand, pressing a kiss to the skin. You can only hope he doesn’t notice the fear in your eyes or the way you’re trembling. 
The gods must be on your side, because he’s distracted. The moment he releases you, he’s talking with a servant about something or other. You can barely keep up with the politics of the city on a normal day, much less on one with flaming lust in your stomach.
So you follow him to the table like a puppet, moving to your usual seat opposite his. It seems much closer together than usual. Everything does. He could be across the room, and you’d still feel like he was at your side, his breath at your neck. You’re almost grateful that the near-only things you can consume are blood and wine, because your trembling fingers are not fit to handle a knife.
After you’ve taken your seat, you have to put all of your attention into holding your glass. You’d try to act natural, but you can’t even remember what that feels like anymore. Does your skin look cold enough? Is your smile convincing? Is the picture you’re painting compelling, or will your imperfections give you away?
For a moment, Astarion’s attentions are focused on his papers. Then, with a sigh, he sets them aside and looks at you. He seems bored, more than anything. Not suspicious yet. “And how was your day, pet?” he asks.
Your grip tightens around your glass. “Good,” you manage to say. “I found a new book in the library.”
He raises a brow. “Did you?”
You nod, attempting to bury yourself in a sip of wine, but it doesn’t work. The more he looks at you, the more the feeling grows. Your hands are slick. Your mind feels clouded over. 
“A - ah, book of poetry.” Your voice shakes as you speak, and the betrayal of it is like a dagger in your chest.
He sets down his knife and fork. 
Already? you think, lightheaded and humiliated. Gods - you’d known he’d likely catch on sooner or later, but, really? Not even two minutes in? It’s pathetic.
But you aren’t going to give in yet. Astarion may have the winning card in his hand, but you’re determined to play this game for all it’s worth. So you set down the wine, fold your hands in your lap as if you aren’t struggling with keeping still, and give him your prettiest smile.
The glint in his eye grows. “Really?” he purrs, tilting his head. “I didn’t know you liked poetry.”
And as soon as he’s spoken, his voice is in your mind - words you’d thought you’d forgotten, pressing to the front of your thoughts. 
It’s a poem. A gift from Cazador.
The first time you’d seen his scars. 
“I…” Your voice chokes, and you swallow hard. “I don’t read it often. But I enjoy it, sometimes.”
He hums in response. His eyes are fixed on yours like a predator - watching your every move. Every blink. Every swallow. Every tremble. He’s waiting for you to break. 
You don’t. Not yet.
“And you?” you ask. “How was your day?”
“Oh, you know how it is,” he muses, his hand gesturing indifferently. “The usual.”
But you don’t know how it is. He hasn’t told you a word about his work, and you’ve never invited yourself into it. He leans back in his seat, and his expression molds into something complacent as you struggle to find the right thing to say.
You decide that wine on your tongue will be much better than words. It’s rich and dark, mildly bitter, and heady. It lingers for a long moment after you’ve drunk, sloshing around your glass as you swirl it.
The end is coming. Your body is fighting you tooth and nail. Your hands are shaking, your mouth is dry, and your head is foggy. Setting the wine down shouldn’t be a difficult thing, but it feels like trying to thread a rose stem through the eye of a needle - painful and futile. 
Your wrist twitches. A tiny, incomprehensible mistake. The goblet nicks the edge of the table, your grip loosens, and the next thing you know, there’s wine everywhere. Bleeding over the top of the table. Dripping into your lap. Splashed over your chest. The taste of it is still in your mouth, bitter on your tongue.
“You’ve gotten clumsy, pet,” Astarion says. He places his hands on the table, pushes to his feet, and approaches with a languid stride, amused and possessive in his gaze. You meet his eyes, determined not to break.
He grabs a clean napkin and half-heartedly dabs the wine off of you, stopping to swipe a droplet off your chest with his finger. Then he lifts it into his mouth, never looking away. “You’re trembling,” he says.
“Am I?” Your voice is breathless. “That’s strange.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you feeling alright, dearest?” 
“Me?” you ask, your hands clenching into fists. “Of course I am.”
He stares at you. You stare at him. He raises a brow. You paste on your sweetest smile, just for him. 
“You know,” he sighs, circling behind you, “I do hate it when you lie to me.”
The feeling in your gut is ravenous now. You’re nothing short of feverish, buried in a haze of sheer need. You need him more than you have ever needed before. You will not let yourself have him.
You play this game with him because, no matter what he says, you know he wants you to. You slot yourself in as his pawn, settling into your place, competing with him even though the game is rigged from the start; all because he wants it. He wants you to lose, and to beg for him to touch you. And, gods help you, despite this cruel, vicious thing he’s become, you still want him. 
He reaches out to a loose strand of your hair, tucking it away behind your ear. “I want the truth,” he says, leaning in close. You’re shivering with desire. Every part of you wants him near. You fight the impulse to make a sound, and he steps away.
“I really am feeling fine,” you insist. 
His eyes pass over you. You can feel the way they trail along your features, both analytical and skeptical. His head tilts and he smirks, and you know you’ve lost. Just like he wanted you to. 
His hand comes up to cup your cheek. “Little love,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb along your jaw. His touch is warm, skimming against your skin. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament, haven't you?” The corner of his lips flick into a smile, but his eyes stay cold as ice. “I know lust when I see it.”
Then, he lets you go.
You want to beg him to come back.
“What a shame,” he muses. “I have so much work to do tonight. You’ll wait for me, won’t you, my sweet?”
You will. You don’t have any choice.
A small sound involuntarily chokes from your throat, and his eyes narrow. “Now, now,” he chides. “Be patient.”
He returns to the doorway, studying your appearance with a smug sort of satisfaction. “Oh, and darling?” he says. “Don’t you dare touch yourself.” 
He pulls the door shut after him, and you stare blankly ahead.
Gods. He’s going to drag this out. You know he will - he loves to see you squirm. But to tell you that you can’t touch yourself? It’s particularly cruel.
But this is where he wants you. You’d lost the game, and this is how you’re paying for it.
The time ticks by. The feeling in your gut grows. You have to squeeze the armrests of your chair to keep them from straying. Heat flushes through every part of your body.
It’s a strange thing, being warm. It’s been months since you’ve had warm blood in your veins. You’d almost forgotten how it felt. It only makes this sensation so much more overwhelming. 
It’s like the sun kissing your skin. It’s like fire, searing through your chest. It’s both pain and pleasure, mingling in your senses. More pleasure, perhaps, if you were allowed to touch yourself. You don’t dare to, not even once. Not even a little. No matter how much you want to.
When the door finally opens again, you let out a rush of air. Relief. Sheer relief. But Astarion doesn’t move toward you. He goes to the papers he’d left on the table, rummaging through them. He finds the one he wants, pauses, then glances at you.
“My, my. Look at you,” he remarks. “Gods below. You’re a mess, darling.”
It’s only then that you realize he’s not coming back yet. He’s not here to touch you.
“Astarion-”
The look he gives you silences your words. Your mouth snaps closed, and you try to resist the urge to sob.
“Patience,” he says. His tone is a warning, low and dark. “Or you’ll get nothing at all.”
The door shuts once more, and this time, a noise breaks free from your throat.
You should have just told him. You’d have lost the game all the same, but he might have taken pity on you. But you’d lied to him. You’d kept it hidden. You hadn’t begged.
His message is as clear as day. This is what you get. This is your punishment.
You’d just had to try out that spell book, hadn’t you? You couldn’t have left it alone? Now look at you. Shaking, clinging onto the chair so tightly that your fingers are beginning to go numb. You feel rabid. Whatever self-control is leashing you is beginning to slip.
Just hold on, you tell yourself. Just until he comes back.
So you wait. Your body feels like it’s on fire, but you wait. 
You’ve just begun to consider touching yourself, consequences be damned, when you finally hear the blissfully familiar sound of Astarion’s voice. 
“I’m here now, my dear,” he announces. “You can stop terrorizing the poor chair.”
He’s standing in front of you, looking down at you with a mix of desire and possessiveness. You have to stare at him for a good ten seconds before you realize that he’s actually there, not just a vision. That your torment will soon be over. 
His words finally connect with your mind and register somewhere within the mess of need. Your hands loosen from their grip, and a soft noise escapes from your lips. From pain or want, you don’t know.
“Kneel,” he says.
Your legs tremble when they stand, as if they might finally give out. You sink to your knees, barely feeling the hard stone beneath you.
Astarion takes two fingers and places them under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “My pet, do you want me?”
“Yes.” Your voice is hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
“Tell me.”
You swallow hard. “I - I want you.”
“Louder.”
“I want you.”
His head tilts. “Good.”
He drops his fingers. You want to scream at the loss of his touch.
“Get up,” he instructs.
You can barely move, but you do it. Your knees shake. You want to grab onto him for support, but you know you shouldn’t. Not yet.
Instead, his hand wraps around your waist. “Just look at you,” he murmurs, echoing his statement from earlier. His other hand comes up to your mouth, his thumb brushing against your lips. 
Then his hand on your waist trails up your back, up your neck, fisting into your hair. “And all for me.”
He pulls you close and kisses you hard. Bruising. His hand cups your cheek, his grip tightens in your hair. His lips are warm and soft and demanding, coaxing your mouth open as he walks you into the table. The back of your legs meet the edge and you pull away to sit, panting as he sets himself over you, straddling your hips.
His eyes are dark and hazy, trailing over you in a way that makes you shiver.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, trailing a finger along your cheek. His lips move to your jaw, trailing feather light kisses along the bone, and you tilt your head to give him full access to your neck. He hums an approval into your skin.
You barely feel it when his teeth sink in and draw blood. There’s only a faint flash of pain, a muddled sensation beneath your want. You feel his hand rest on your hip. His gentle, wet tongue, darting out to clean the wound.
If he doesn’t touch you soon, you’re sure you’ll combust.
“Astarion,” you breathe, gripping onto the back of his shirt. You know he heard you, but he keeps kissing down your throat, stopping at your collar bones to brush his lips over them. A sharp nip. An apologetic kiss to soothe the sting.
“Astarion, please,” you repeat.
“Hm?” He doesn’t bother to pull away. He simply undoes the lacing of your clothing without looking and tosses the outfit across the room.
“Touch me,” you beg.
At that, he finally stops kissing you and looks up at you, something dark and hungry simmering in his gaze. “Dearest, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he drawls, “but I am touching you.”
You’re in no mood to deal with this - not with the scorching flame inside that will not let up even for an instant. “You know what I mean,” you snap. “Please, gods. Touch me.”
But the more desperate you are, the more he pulls back from you. He gives you a look - half amused, half bored. “But I don’t know what you mean,” he says. “I can’t read your mind anymore, my sweet. Don’t you remember?”
Anger and frustration cloud your vision in a veil of red. A sharp noise chokes through your chest, and you tighten your grip on his shoulders, digging your nails into the skin. “Fuck me, Astarion. Please.”
The corners of his mouth flick into a self-satisfied smile. “You’re lucky I like you, little love,” he murmurs, easing your legs apart with his thigh, and you sigh in relief, relaxing into his touch as he returns to kissing your neck. “But you wouldn’t deny me a taste, surely?” he asks. “I want everyone in the city to hear you screaming my name.”
And then he drops to his knees.
You’re left shivering with need, so desperate that your vision seems to be clouding over. The top layer of your clothing has been removed, but you’re still in your smallclothes, and he of course takes his sweet time with you. The feel of his tongue through the fabric of your smalls, so desperately close to where you need him to be - but not there, not yet there - is all but maddening. You fix your hand into his hair and try to relax, but you’re so tightly-wound that you feel like a rope about to snap.
How the hells are you supposed to relax when the sweet friction of his mouth is pressing against your clit - when he’s on his knees for you, his grip on your thighs bruising and almost, almost perfect? You could come like this, riled up to the point of climax, but that would be too easy. He’d never let it be that easy.
Instead, he brings you to the verge of orgasm, bites at the tender flesh of your thigh, then pulls away.
“Gods,” you mutter, caught between feeling like the tiniest action will send you into waves of pleasure and simultaneously feeling like you’re going to black out. “Astarion-”
“Shh,” he says, still on his knees. “Relax, pet.”
Out of the two of you, he’s in the more vulnerable position, but you’d never know it from the way he’s practically holding you down on the top of the table - from the way his eyes are devouring you, practically daring you to protest. 
You know him. The more you rebel, the less he’ll give you. So you don’t. You force yourself silent and suck in a breath or two, trying to remember the way oxygen tastes, trying to keep the dam inside you from bursting open.
A small sob breaks free, but aside from that, you’re a statue. A lustful, slightly relaxed statue. It’s all you can give, and it must be enough, because he finally pulls your smalls off of you. 
They’re so wet from his tongue and from your arousal that they stick to you, and you can see the way his gaze darkens. The way he swallows, taking in a deep breath and setting them aside. He could keep you here all night, but he’d be torturing himself, too.
He starts slowly again, and with every graze of his warm fingers, with every brush of his skin against yours, your body bucks into his touch. It doesn’t matter where or how brief; it’s just the silky trailing of his fingertips over your abdomen, your body is still chasing the minimal pleasure his presence gives you. If it’s his thumb against your clit, your body still shudders the way you know he wants you to.
When his tongue finally, finally meets your clit, you let out a sharp gasp and have to physically stop yourself from following that feeling, from grinding against his mouth the way you so desperately want to. Your nails dig into the tablecloth, but you let him keep his own pace. His own agonizing, teasing pace. 
One finger, slipping inside of you, finding the electrifying spot inside of you that has you moaning his name, your hand tightening in his hair and your hips bucking of their own accord. Then one becomes two. A slow, even rhythm of thrusting that slowly grows harder, faster, deeper. 
He brings you right back to the edge, and this time, he lets you come. 
Your body tenses. Your grip tightens even more. He groans against you, and the vibrations of it course out through your skin. The rope of tension pulls and pulls and pulls until it finally snaps, leaving you shuddering and mindlessly crying out, his name leaving your mouth like a mantra. 
Just like he’d said it would. 
Your consciousness seems to float away from your body - a blinding, sharp pleasure that comes to you in a pulsing, ambrosial wave. When you come down, you’re still burning. The fire wanes a little, but won’t be sated. Not that easily. In many ways, it’s just like Astarion. Running you through, filling you with need, and not letting you go until it’s done with you.
When you come down, you find yourself with wet thighs and covered in sweat, your breath pulling unnaturally from your lungs until you’ve recovered. You’re still shaking, and Astarion is still between your legs - licking at sensitive skin. 
You whimper, and he finally pulls away, his pupils blown wide and an impatience to his expression. Possessiveness. Need. He rises to his feet and winds a hand in your hair, pulling your head back with a grip that borders on painful.
He doesn’t say a thing, but his gaze speaks volumes - the glittering, dark ruby of his eyes, the almost removed way he observes you, eyes trailing over your face. Studying how he’s ruined you, no doubt.
He releases his hold on you, and though you can see his erection through his trousers, his movements are slow - methodical, almost. When he speaks, his voice is low and dark.
“Come here, my sweet, little consort.”
And you do. With your still-shaking legs, you slide off the table and take a step closer, unsure how near he wants you. 
“Turn around,” he instructs. 
And you do.
You only register his hand on the nape of your neck when your cheek connects with something hard. The table. He’s bent you over it and is standing behind you, and the impact barely smarts in comparison to the heat that floods between your legs.
“You like it like this, don’t you?” Astarion muses, dragging a finger along your spine. “You want everyone to know who you belong to. You want me to fuck you into this table and let everyone hear how much you need me.”
And you can’t even argue with him. You can’t argue, because you know he’s right - and he knows it, too. 
You swallow hard, back arching toward his hand. “Yes.”
He’s silent for a moment, tracing his hand along your back. Then he presses his thumb to your clit and you mindlessly grind into him, barely resisting the urge to beg him to just fuck you already.
Then you hear fabric shifting, and your whole body tenses in anticipation of him. 
He’s not gentle, and he’s not tender. He sheathes himself into you in a single, harsh thrust that has you crying out, your hands scrabbling for something to grasp for support but finding nothing. 
“Gods,” he growls, his grip settling on your hips and pressing into the skin as he sets a rough, punishing pace. His voice is breathless when he speaks. “You look so pretty for me, pet. Bent over like this. Say my name for me, won’t you?”
You can barely choke out the sound between his thrusts, but it comes out of you nonetheless. “A… A-star-ion-” 
“Good,” he says, and then his pace turns brutal, every thrust sending your cheek scraping against the table. There’s pain, but you barely feel it - not against the burning pleasure of him inside you, filling you up, and not against the fire in your skin that’s building to a boiling point again.
Over and over.
His breathing is getting faster. His grip on you is ever tightening, sure to leave a number of tender bruises for the morning. He’ll kiss them, then, draw his fingers over them in admiration, but for now: he groans and grips at your hair again, and you sit there and take every inch he’s giving to you until you can barely stand it - the sweet, delectable friction of him inside you, the vulgar, wet noises that echo around the room. Evidence of how much you want him. How close you are.
“Tell - tell me you’re mine,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I’m yours.”
He thrusts even harder, and it vaguely occurs to you that you might not be able to walk tomorrow. You can feel the tell-tale signs of him getting closer - the tensing of his thighs, the panting as he approaches climax, the moans he’s letting out. He pauses mid-thrust and trembles for a moment before he slams back into you once, twice - three times.
That’s all it takes to send you over the edge with him, clenching around him, barely conscious of the table under you, barely conscious of the fact that both of you are in the dining room and almost certainly the servants are able to hear what he’s doing to you.
You can feel him seeping out of you, trickling down your thighs, and you go slack against the table, gasping and trying to remember how to breathe.
He finally releases your hair and pulls out of you, paying no mind to the way you wince.
You definitely won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
“What a good little pet you are,” he remarks, smoothing your hair away from your neck and placing a kiss to the nape. When he speaks again, his voice has gone to that pouty, condescending tone that he sometimes uses. “You wouldn’t dream of doing that to me again, would you, my treasure? Lying to me? Hiding your own pleasure from me? And at my table, nonetheless.”
You attempt an answer, but it comes out as nothing but a helpless whimper.
“What was that?” he asks. 
“No,” you breathe. 
“Good.”
He straightens, running a finger between your legs - no doubt studying the mess he’s made of you.
“Get up,” he says. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
You unstick yourself from the table, legs trembling, and as his gaze travels over you once more, you have a deep, sudden feeling in your gut. It’s too easy. Too easy for you. Even after all the torment you’d faced earlier, stranded and desperate in your chair, it’s not enough. He’s not done with you yet. 
And if you know him at all…
It’ll be surprising if he’s finished with you before morning.
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sadienita · 5 months
Text
SKZ Reaction - When you’re not very cuddly or touchy
Chan
Okay he, like, kinda likes it. We already know he loves the members that run from his affection. How many times have we seen him capture Minho or Seungmin with the biggest grin on his face the whole time? If you don't mind a hug from time to time he’ll honestly have a lot of fun. He kinda loves that you don’t want his cuddles every second of the day but it will lead to him sneaking up on you for a surprise hug and kiss or else chasing you down the hall, giggling the whole way until he tackles you onto the bed. He will let you go quickly each time though, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. And he’ll always assess your mood before playing around too, if he sees you’re having a rough day he’ll ask how he can make it better, only ever touching you if you request physical comfort. He is a little sad that you aren’t up for bedtime cuddles most nights but more than once you’ve rolled over in your sleep and somehow ended up in his arms and it always melts his heart when it happens. Some part of you will always seek out some form of comfort from him no matter the situation.
Minho
He’s very okay with this. He doesn’t like being touchy all the time and honestly prefers small touches here and there to constantly being in contact. He will be a little sad if you don’t want to sit on his lap often, that’s maybe the one thing he would like but he respects your boundaries and he wouldn’t be happy knowing you were uncomfortable on his lap anyway. He loves the interactions you do have. He loves staring at you and giving you a soft smile and a slow blink when you catch him, a silent way to say “I love you.” He loves the light way you touch his arm to get his attention, like a feather. He likes the way you’ll absentmindedly link your pinkie with his if you’re both quietly taking in a beautiful view. He loves the gentle, soft way you touch his face to move his hair or remove the eyelash that’s fallen on his cheek. He likes your small, quiet way of loving each other.
Changbin
He doesn’t mind it too much. He likes a more casual touch with you so at first it’s not an issue but over time he has to find where the line is. He likes having an arm around you but knows you get uncomfortable if he does it for too long. It ends up getting reserved for when you’re out at a party together, a quiet reassurance that he’s right beside you. He does like holding your hand but he won’t initiate if it isn’t your thing. He will, however, giggle like a lovesick fool if you lace your fingers with his no matter the situation. He really adores it and cherishes those moments. He can be playful with it too. When he can tell you’re in a good mood he’ll suddenly try to scoop you up or if you’re very unlucky, he’ll run at you and grab you so he can use the momentum to spin you around; he is not always careful of your surroundings. He thinks it's fun to catch you off guard and make you squeal or yell, chuckling to himself every time.
Hyunjin
He’s honestly somewhat similar. He doesn’t need to be in contact with you 24/7 and he likes that you feel the same way. It takes so much pressure off that you don’t constantly expect hand-holding or cuddling. In fact, his favourite thing is being alone together with you. When you get to the point of comfortable silence he’ll start inviting you to come sit with him while he paints, or to come and hang out in the dance studio while he practices. Your presence makes him feel so calm and happy and he knows if he wants your attention it’ll be easy to get. When he’s painting he likes to reach over and touch you from time to time, just to remind you he’s right there. He’ll show you what he’s working on from time to time. He loves when you bring something to work on yourself and share your own progress with him. The fact that you value his opinion makes him feel so incredibly special. When he’s dancing he can be a bit silly, a grin drawing over his face before he flops his sweaty body on top of you simply to annoy. He does delight in that. When he does touch you it’s always so gentle, adjusting your clothes, fixing your hair or head covering, pressing a very soft kiss to your nose, forehead, or knuckles. He loves treating you with the utmost gentleness.
Jisung
It’s all fine at first. He’s nervous when you first get together, not wanting to screw it all up. And knowing that you’re not that into skinship means he can just avoid it. But as time goes on he wants to. He wants to hold your hand and hug you and kiss you and cuddle with you. For a long time he’ll just try to swallow those needs down, as if they aren’t filling him to the brim. But eventually, during a particularly hard week, he’s desperate to ask you for comfort. He still doesn’t call you over but when he misses plans with you you show up at his place and take no time at all to cradle him, wrapping him in your arms and slowly calming him down. He finally admits after that that he wants some contact sometimes. It takes negotiations and trial and error to find where the most comfortable boundaries are. He likes sitting next to you during movies, feeling your leg pressed against his, and he likes when you fall asleep on his shoulder. He likes when you doodle along his skin sometimes, absentmindedly. He likes when you play with his hair, it always makes him feel so cozy and sleepy. And he loves that when he’s struggling that he doesn’t even need to ask, you’re quick to wrap him in a warm hug and give him the comfort he craves, holding him together whenever he’s close to falling apart.
Felix
He has by far the most trouble with it. He wants contact with you all the time. He wants to put his arms around you. He wants to cuddle you. He wants to feel close to you. He does his best to respect your boundaries because the last thing he wants is for you to be uncomfortable with him. He stops himself every time he goes to touch you absentmindedly, bringing his hands back to himself. But he doesn’t consider his own desires much and over time it puts a strain on your relationship. He gets very needy for verbal affirmations of your love and constantly tries to do everything for you to prove that he cares. It’s when you get annoyed with how overbearing he can be about it and ask him to stop that he breaks down crying, admitting that he doesn’t know how to love you the right way. It devolves into both of you crying and sitting with each other, holding his hands the whole time. It takes more tears before he admits that he doesn’t feel loved, that he needs some form of contact and it makes you realize that he’s been so wrapped up in your needs and you’ve neglected his. From that point on you try to find where your comfort lies and what feels okay. You find that a quick hug and soft kiss feels alright. You find that holding hands for a little while feels alright. You find that small things like feeding each other food and letting him do small tasks for you makes him so happy. And you find that in cold weather, a little bit of cuddling for a short while is nice. You both pay attention both to your own levels of comfort and the other’s feelings much more.
Seungmin
He thought he would be fine with it but he realizes he touches you absentmindedly a lot more than he thought he would. A gentle hand on your back to let you know he’s passing behind you in the kitchen, reaching out to cup your cheek and run his thumb over it, grabbing your hand in crowded place, a back hug when he wakes up to find that despite you sleeping over, you’ve gone wandering off somewhere else in the apartment and he comes to find you. It definitely causes tension, feeling and seeing the way you tense up when his fingertips find your skin. It reminds him quickly but he seems to have a hard time not initiating in the first place. It takes you getting frustrated with him before you two agree to sit down and talk through where the boundaries actually are. In time he realizes that you certainly don’t like surprise touches and you realize that he feels a little unloved if you never touch him at all. You adopt little touches, petting or playing with his hair, pressing stray kisses to him as you pass, pulling his hand into your lap and gently playing with it while you watch dramas. He grows to tell you when he’s going to touch you, giving you a verbal indication that he’s nearby first and keeping his touches more brief when he does give them to you.
Jeongin
He ends up pretty comfortable with this. He likes to hug you or to hold your hand from time to time but it makes him shy to do it too much. And he doesn’t like doing it in public or around other people, feeling a bit embarrassed every time it happens. Instead, he loves other ways to show you he cares. He loves dressing you up. He will beg you to let him pick your outfits and gets so excited when you say yes. He’ll leave gentle touches on you when he helps you with any jewelry he’s picked out. He ends up touching you the most while posing for pics, both of you invested in getting a good picture. He does like to play with your rings if you’re wearing any but he lets you give him your hand before he does so. He also loves when you fix his outfit or hair; reaching out to straighten or adjust something. He’ll keep hugs brief and likes just to be near you more than anything. You bring him a sense of comfort whether touching him or not and relishes that.
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setsugekka · 1 year
Text
❥six-thirty (m)
↳ sunwoo is just a friend. A friend with a fire-hot possessive streak.
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kim sunwoo x fem!reader — friends with benefits, explicit sexual content [2,5k wc] cws: penetrative sex (unprotected), possessiveness, rough sex, a lot of dirty talking, praise, a drop of humiliation.
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“Just tell him to fuck off already!”
You pretend to be taken aback by the words in spite of you doing everything in your power to bring the man to this point of contention — a friends with benefits situation going on for far longer than any of the other ones have lasted, but hey, what can you say?
Sunwoo happens to be a bit more fun than the rest.
His voice whiny and exasperated as he dramatically tosses, turns and kicks his feet in your bed like a toddler; under typical circumstances a far from enticing display, but from him, you know what it means for you to get him upset like this.
And shortly after tiring from his fit, Sunwoo makes quick work of snuggling up from behind you — chest pressed against your back and chin comfortably nestled between your shoulder and your neck as he showers the exposed skin with delicate kisses. Phone still in hand, you dim the screen as you feel him creep up — partially, because there’s nothing to be seen there, anyway, but mostly because you know doing so will make him feel crazy.
It’s a point of contention, sure, his jealous-streak, but more than that, it makes the sex fucking spectacular.
“Why are you even talking to him right now when you’re with me?” He finally asks, opting out of the previous demand and instead slinking back into his usual role — a pointed knee pressing between your legs in an effort to part them just slightly as his hand begins its anticipated journey down the side of you and between your legs from over your hip.
“Oh, but he’s just a friend.”
A playful quip back to him as you turn your head just slight enough that he can see your attempt at making eye contact. The scoff escaping from his plump lips telling enough that you’re triumphant in precisely what it is that you’re aiming for.
“I’m just a friend, too.”
“So, why are you so possessive then?”
“Because! It makes me crazy thinking about you being with other men! Why do you even need other men—” pausing then as his middle finger finally meets it’s mark against your clit, and hesitantly drawing slow, dull circles into you as you press your behind back and against his barely clothed form.
What’s wrong with a little jealousy-fueled round two, after all? With both merely in undergarments as is, may as well make the most of the time.
“—who makes you cum like I do? You get me like this so I’ll fuck you sideways, I’m nothing but a pawn to you, huh?”
At face value, the words seem more pointed than they are; hot breath fanning over the exposed skin of your arm as he continues trailing his lips across any skin that he can sink his teeth into and still more than focused on the busy work of his hand — surely, if he were really upset, he simply wouldn’t be partaking in any such games.
But suppose the being a pawn works in both of your favors.
“Maybe so, what are you gonna do about it, then?”
A cunning retort, you know it’ll drive him mad.
“I know you want me to say that I’ll fuck you dumb and just have to make it so you never crave another man ever again,” he bemoans against your ear, voice low and heady and simultaneously feeling the way the pressure of his finger against you picks up just that much more as he says the words. Arching your back even more to press yourself against his now ever present erection, the both of you silently opt out of further conversation on the matter in the immediately present tense and instead — Sunwoo with his other hand, gently shimmying his underwear down and out of the way enough to pull his length from the confines of the fabric and press the tip against precisely where you want him to be, it’s only then, than he finally decides you worthy of a continuation of the thought.
“So, I won’t say it. I’ll just have to do it.”
With the hand between your legs, pulling your hips back and towards him as he effectively uses the leverage to push you down and onto his cock all over again — the sinful sigh that eventually transforms into a groan against your ear as he feels you envelop him — you meet him there, having received exactly what it was that you had set out to achieve; a pitiful whimper dropping from your lips at the feeling of him filling so you completely as his hips meet flush against your ass with an excruciating slow drive.
Stilling inside of you, Sunwoo drags his hand up the front of you — lingering slightly on your breast to gently pinch and run circles into the nub as he kisses and nips at the flesh of your neck and jaw so hungrily it’s as if he has intent to devour you entirely — shortly thereafter, the continued journey upwards as his hand settles on the underside of your chin, pulling your face up to grant him better, easier access to previously untouched skin there.
Sucking and biting marks into you, he finally pulls his hips back slowly only to press forward just as leisurely as he had previously. Torturous, and of course it is — just as intended.
It’s sort of what makes sex with him so good.
A languid, slow rhythm against you, offering such little friction that you feel as though your mind may numb from the want and need of more of him — faster, harder, more, more, more.
Shifting the placement of his hand ever so slightly, from your dazed, needy state you feel the tapping of his middle finger against your lips and almost instinctively you part them for entry — Sunwoo quickly sheathing two of them against your tongue and groaning at the sensation of you tightly closing your mouth around them as if so painfully hungry for his cock in any way that even just having this will have to do, for now.
“You’re so mean to me,” he finally says with words that are half air. “Tease me, get me all upset with you just so I’ll fuck you — you know, you can just ask nicely.”
With a face stuffed full of him, you only moan in response. Well aware of your inability to answer him, he carries on the discussion as if speaking only to himself.
“If you were nice, I’d fuck you nicer, too—”
Pressing his hand further towards the back of your throat, you feel the familiar sensation of your eyes beginning to water before he grants you quick reprieve.
“—but you don’t want that, do you?”
It’s such a small shift in speed that you might not notice it if not painstakingly hungry for the release that you know will eventually be granted to you — now hyper aware of every movement he makes from behind you in any effort to get more friction from the cock buried inside of you — another whimper spilling from between his fingers at it, to which, Sunwoo can only laugh.
“When did you get so needy? But, I suppose—”
Drawing from you nearly entirely only to fully sheath himself inside of you again with a fast snap of his hips — impact so hard it has you jutting forward against the mattress as he does so — Sunwoo finally frees his other arm from the awkwardness of the position to bring it up and fold a hand into your hair. Not especially hard, and not with intent to hurt all that much, but rather, a familiar sting that lets you know that he’s there.
And then suddenly, the removal of his fingers from between your lips, hand back to its firm position at the place where your chin and throat meet.
Hot breath against your ear again, then another hard, quick drive of himself into you. You can’t help but cry out in response to it.
A man not known to be a domineering, or violent lover — but rather, a man who likes to stake his claim on what he sees as his.
“How d'you want me?”
A question coming a bit out of left field: The inquiry in and of itself relatively innocuous between lovers, but when pulled apart to be viewed in layers — ‘how do you want to receive me?’ — the understanding that he be the one giving himself to you, rather that alternatively, or even beyond that — perhaps it be both simultaneously.
You don’t answer quick enough for his liking, however, now well into playing his role. Fingers just ever so faintly digging harder into your hair to entice you to respond — your lust-filled mind instead honed in on the perfect drag of his cock and the way that his breath catches in his throat with every glide into you. Pulling it together enough to give it what it is that he’s searching for — you do what you can, but it’s not much.
“F-fuck me from behind.”
“Yeah,” he huffs out, already halfway through pulling himself from between your legs as if he anticipated the answer all along. Which he had. “Thought so.”
Quick with his work as he pushes you forward and brings himself to his knees just behind you, hands dipping down to your hips and pulling them up to meet his own — leaning forward to pull each arm back and clasped within a hand like makeshift handcuffs as he uses the other to carefully position himself for reentry.
The whole thing happening in a span of what you can only fathom to be ten seconds or less.
Balancing yourself on your chest and shoulders with no hands for leverage otherwise as your head is forced to be turned back for what little of him you can visualize, once again the slow, smooth slip of him entering you from behind, but with the new angle feeling fuller, longer — more of him entirely as he’s painfully slow with bottoming out inside of you.
“Feel good?”
You hate that he’s asking, largely due to the fact that the ability to speak is not one that comes easily to you now, but you also know that to be highly in part why it is that he’s doing so.
Intent to wreck you. Destroy you. Not with aggression, or violence, but rather with attention to detail, pleasure, and hopefully, the insatiable need to have no one but him inside of you ever again.
“Already can’t talk?” He teases, quickly settling into a steady pace against you as he holds you firmly in place with your hands pressed into the small of your back and whimpering with every drive of his cock into you. “You’re so pretty like this, God, you take me so well. Come on, baby, tell me how good I feel.”
It’s far more mental for Sunwoo than it is physical.
“You feel so good, so good.” You finally manage out, for his sake — gathering enough mental fortitude to string a sentence together for the man since you know he needs it so badly.
He likes the praise just as much as you do.
Groaning at the words and the confirmation even more so with an especially hard few snaps of his hips into you — you kind of hate how easy it is for him to make you cum, but also, it’s sort of why you’ve kept him around this long, after all. Tightening in your abdomen, you whimper out his name just enough for him to catch onto — he knows the signal, free hand darting down to between your legs to rub against your clit with the flat of his fingers.
The feeling nearly has your knees buckling then and there, but not with his hold onto you.
“Gonna cum, baby?”
“Fuck, yes, don’t stop—” you say, coming out as a bit more like a demand than intended, but knowing it probably gets him going all the same, who cares, really?
“This what you wanted? So needy and pathetic to have me fuck you into the mattress like this? Now you’re making demands?”
Oops.
“Can’t wait to make a mess of you,” he says, first slowing the intensity of his thrusts to allow a small, trailing of saliva to drip from his mouth to the precise place in which his cock disappears inside of you before slowly at first carrying on again. “Messy, nasty, baby, but all for me.”
Mentally, it does a bit of a number on you. More than anticipated, and you know that he can feel the way your muscles clench down around his length as he settles back into his hard and fast drive into you. Moaning at the feeling, Sunwoo can’t help but comment on it — “Oh? You like that, huh? You want me to ruin you, don’t you?”
The 'yes’ falls from your lips before you even have a shot at pulling it back for reconsideration.
Grip on your wrists tightening that much more, Sunwoo pulls you firmer back and against his hips, fingers digging harder circles against your clit to finally push you into your orgasm. It’s certainly working as he fucks you harder than before, fuller thrusts as he pulls nearly entirely from your drenched cunt to deliver back the complete glide of his cock to you.
“Cum on my cock. I’ll give you what you want.”
Not sure if it’s the physicality of everything, the sinful throatiness to his voice, the words themselves, or everything combined that has the simple demand pulling exactly that from you — thighs quivering and teeth gritted as you whine and shout through the intensity of your high — Sunwoo all the while fucking you through its totality. Over the peak and tailing towards the come down is when he cums with a loud groan and a few extra hard and rough snaps of his hips. Whispered chants of “gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck—” before burying himself so deep into you it nearly brings discomfort as he empties his load.
Heavy breaths resounding through the room as the both of you slowly come back down from your euphoric releases, Sunwoo gently pulling his softening length from you with a wince of overstimulation — only to watch in awe as his cum messily spills from you as you lazily remain in your assumed position.
“You better tell me if you let another guy cum inside of you,” he begins, and at first, the words set off a particular set of alarm bells in your head. Alarms that say 'this isn’t part of the game,’ and 'this is getting a bit too serious,’ before you feel long, adept fingers fucking his work right back into from where it had left.
“Because I’ll fuck my load into your already cum-filled cunt, too.”
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♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask  (⌒‿⌒) —this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.
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h34rtbeat · 3 months
Note
I BEG A ROUGH NONCON WITH SUNGHOON
BECAUSE IM IN LOVE W/YOU (cunt)
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okay ik u said super duper non-con but like I’m gonna use this as an opportunity to show my stalker sunghoon.. pls don’t be mad at me queen. There will non-con if yall want a part 2
PART 2 HERE
JUST BEAR W ME YALL.. BEAR W ME..
warnings: panty stealing and drugging
some-what based off of she
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7 weeks.
It’s been 7 weeks since you started to feel like someone is watching you. An inching feeling, crawling up your spine as you undressed. Was it here? The thing watching you? Maybe you were really going mad, all this drinking…
You were sure enough that drinking wasn’t good, but, having your best friend over, Sunghoon, did help and you both shared some drinks.
You definitely drank more than him, you were sure of it. It didn’t help that you felt fuzzy after your third drink, it wasn’t normal, but at least you were safe with your friend.
Sunghoon was the only person you told. He was quiet to keep your worries away from people finding out. He was quiet enough to know how much it meant to you, for no one to find out.
Yet you didn’t know this only made Sunghoons arousal increase tenfold.
“Ah.. I’m so sorry this is happening.” He reassured, rubbing your back as you sat on your table together, drinking.
“I’m sure it’ll go away soon, no one would wish to cause you pain.” Sunghoon sipped some more of his drink, and lifted yours to your lips. “Let’s relax. You deserve to anyway, with all this stress of yours.”
In his mind, you had only told him about this issue (which was him), and that meant you trusted him and only him.
“Maybe you should have another drink.. I’ll have another too, before I get on home.” His voice was always so quiet, so calm..
“Yeah, you’re right.” You chuckled, rubbing your head. “I do need to destress.”
God, you were so naïve, he couldn’t help it. He knew you had no boyfriend, no other man in your life but him. A few girls here and there, but not romantic. He was all you had, and that made him so egoistic.
You had to love him. You just had to. You trusted him, a man, to make your drink.
Slipping two little tablets into your drink, he made sure to add some sparkling water in both the drinks to make it seem like the fizziness was coming from the water. In reality, he gave you something far more strong.
“Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” You laughed at his words.
“I’m sure it will, ‘hoon.” You took a sip, and your eyes widened. The drink was sweet, you could barely taste the liquor.
“Oh. Wow sunghoon, this is.. great actually.” You took more and more sips, he only took a few. You felt tingly all of a sudden, and kind of light-headed.
“Hey, I need to use the restroom real quick..” he mutters, tapping your shoulder. He felt how warm you suddenly became.
“Y-yeah.. s’down the hall, to your.. right.” You say, suddenly snapping back. What was this? Why did you feel so.. warm? And dizzy? You couldn’t even keep up with your eyes as you watched sunghoon leave the table and go down the hall.
Sunghoon checked behind his shoulder, seeing as you slumped over the table. He snuck into your room, looking your drawer. New panties?
Seemed you weren’t as worried as he thought. He wondered what you’d like look putting them on, how you’d look through the window, or maybe how you’d touch yourself.
While you were basically drugged out on the table, Sunghoon closed your bedroom door, quietly examining the panties. Who did you buy these for?
Surely it wasn’t for a man.. you’re way too pure. Just for yourself right? For you to feel sexy by yourself.
Gosh.. what an innocents girl you were, he couldn’t help but to take himself out of his pants, stroking himself with the underwear.
They were flimsy— lacy, light blue underwear. He’s never seen these while you got dressed. These are brand new! A breath leaving him, leaning only your drawer, holding onto it as he continues to rub it up and down his length.
He wondered what you’d look like, sucking his cock in this panties. Would you touch yourself?
Would you even wear these, no.. you’re too pure, too good. You’ve never even touched a dick before.
Heavy breaths coming out as he sprayed apures of white all over your panties, he tucked them in his pocket, before walking back. But before he fully walked back, he went into the kitchen.
opening your juice, he slipped around 5 tablets in, shaking it. If you happened to drink some later, while he was watching, you’d feel the same way.
He saw your body slumped over the table, and smirked to himself. He pressed a kiss against your lips.
“I’ll see you soon..” he muttered, and then exited.
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evanpeterswhoresblog · 9 months
Text
Old Friends
Max Cooperman x f!reader
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warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral female receiving, soft!dom max, sub!reader, underage drinking, underage smoking, getting high before sex, rough sex, uhhh overall very long and very smutty
summary: after being away at college for a year, your best friend Baja convinces you to go to a fourth of July party at your old friend Max’s house, but little do you know how much Max has changed since the last time you saw him…
word count: 4.5k
a/n: i just watched never back down 1 and 2 last night and omg the glow up evan had before filming the second one is not talked about enough. hope you enjoy my lil fourth of july gift <3 enjoy!!
~~~
“Do you think this looks good?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom.
You’re at your best friend Baja’s house, the two of you are getting ready for a big fourth of July party. So far, you’ve tried on three different bikinis, none of them standing out to you. Sure, they fit you perfectly and show off the body you worked for, but they just weren’t right.
“Y/N, it looks amazing, like all the other ones too. What’s going on?” Baja answers, a frown on her face.
You met Baja when she transferred into your high school sophomore year, and you’ve been inseparable since. You were by her side through everything. The day her parents decided to call it quits, the day her parents got back together, even the day she started dating Ryan. You never liked him, she knew that. He was crazy, he loved to hurt people. So, when Jake Tyler moved to town and started talking to her, you were thrilled.
He was a decent guy, you enjoyed spending time with him. Plus, it was great seeing her happy again after what Ryan put her through. After they started dating Jake introduced you to his best friend Max and he often hung around with the three of you. Max was a sweet boy. He was chubby and adorable with his little camera. Though the two of you never hung out alone, you still considered him one of your closer friends.
The four of you were sad when high school ended. You had gotten into your dream college that happened to be in a nearby state. It was terrible having to say goodbye to your friends, but you all had phones so it wasn’t like contact would be completely lost. You and Baja would call for hours, sometimes falling asleep on the phone together. On holiday breaks when you’d come home you really only saw her and occasionally Jake, but you didn’t mind.
Tonight, however, is the first party you’re going to in your home town since high school. Since it’s your first summer break from college, Baja thinks it will be a good idea. You know she’s right, but you’re very nervous to see all your old classmates.
“What if people think I’ve gone downhill since we graduated?” You question your friend.
Baja laughs. “I can promise you no one will think that. Look at yourself y/n, you’re stunning.”
“I’m just worried it’ll go bad. I haven’t seen these people in over a year,” you reply with a sigh. You sit down next to her on her bed. “How many people do you think will be there?”
“Well like I said it’s at Max’s house, and his house is pretty big so probably a lot of people.”
“God, I haven’t even seen Max since last summer. How’s he doing?” You ask.
“Well, he’s changed a lot,” she answers with a small laugh. “Trust me when you see him, you’re going to be shocked.”
“What do you mean? Did he finally get taller or something?”
“Yeah, you could say that... But anyways, hurry up and finish picking your outfit we have to leave soon,” she replies, shooing you off the bed and towards her closet.
~~~
When the two of you arrive at Max’s house you feel the anxious butterflies eat away in your stomach. There’s already so many cars in the driveway and on the street. You see a few of your former classmates in the front yard, you hide your face. Baja laughs and finally parks the car. You look at her anxiously.
“Maybe this was a bad idea, how about we just go stay at your place instead?” You speak.
She shakes her head. “Nope, we’re already here. Just relax y/n, it’s going to be super fun.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to go fuck your boyfriend,” you reply with a frown.
“Hey, maybe you’ll find a guy and hook up too,” she says, a smirk on her face. “I bet tons of guys are gonna be all over you looking for a piece of that ass.”
You lightly slap her and groan. “Shut up.”
She only laughs and opens her door. “Come on, we’re already late.”
You groan and open yours too, preparing yourself for what’s coming. You follow Baja into the party, smiling at your old classmates. You recognize most of them, but there’s also new people you don’t think even went to school with you. Loud music flows throughout the house, you can practically feel the beat as you walk. Baja was right, in the few minutes you’ve been inside you’ve already noticed multiple guys checking you out. It makes you wish you worse something more than just jean shorts and a coverup over your bathing suit.
The two of you stop in the kitchen and Baja pours you a shot. You take it without saying anything, it’ll help you with your nerves. The familiar warmth fills your stomach and chest, it feels good. You see Jake approching and you smile, it’s been a few months since the last time you talked. He looks the exact same.
“What’s up y/n? How you been?” He asks after greeting Baja with a kiss.
“Pretty good, how about you?” You reply.
“Amazing.”
“That’s cool, Baja said you were thinking about opening up your own gym soon, that’s great,” you mention, looking back at your best friend.
“I see word travels fast between the two of you,” he says, wrapping his arm around Baja’s shoulders. “But yeah, it’s just an idea right now. It was more Max’s idea actually, have you talked to him yet?”
You shake your head and notice the look Baja and Jake give each other. “I told her she’s gonna be surprised when she sees him.”
“Oh yeah, you should actually go find him and say hi,” Jake says with a smirk.
You look between them suspiciously. “Is this your subtle attempt to get me away so you can go fuck?”
“Yes, entirely, so go,” Baja answers with a laugh, pushing you lightly.
“I hate you,” you say as you begin to walk away from them.
“Love you too!” She exclaims, you don’t bother replying.
You wander through the house searching for Max. You forgot how big his house really was. Even the first floor will probably take you twenty minutes to search. A sigh leaves your lips, where would he be? You look through his living room, cringing at the sight of two girls making out on the couch, a swarm of guys watching and recording. He’s not there, thankfully. You go out to the back yard, so many people are in the pool. But that’s when you spot him.
Baja was right, you’re very surprised. He’s not at all like you remember him. The chubby nerd you once knew is gone and has been replaced by... this. He’s definitely grown a few inches, and his baby fat has been replaced by muscle. The boy who used to refuse taking off his shirt even at the beach is now standing tall, abs out for everyone to see. His hair is shorter and slightly curlier. You can see his sharp jawline from where you’re standing, it’s so prominent. You trail your eyes down his body, lingering on his v-line. You never thought in a million years you’d see Max Cooperman with a v-line and happy trail. You also never thought you’d stare at it so intently.
You shake the thoughts away and walk towards him. He’s still the same Max you knew, you can’t be thinking like this. You’re only a few feet away when he notices you, you can see his eyes light up. It makes you smile.
“Am I dreaming or is it really you y/n?” He asks.
“I could say the same thing about you,” you reply with a laugh as you embrace him in a short hug. “What did college do to you?”
“A lot honestly. I started working out a lot more, lost my fat and replaced it with these guns,” he answers, flexing his biceps.
You laugh again. “At least it hasn’t changed your personality, you still staying behind the scenes?”
“Yeah, I’m always going to be the camera man. How about you though? I bet you’re the most talked about girl on your campus,” he says with a smirk. “I mean seriously wow you look great.”
You can’t help the small blush that appears on your cheeks. “I wouldn’t know, I sorta keep to myself. I mean I go to parties sometimes but most of my time is spent keeping up with my classes.”
“I’m glad college hasn’t changed your personality either. Still the quiet girl during the week days and the party animal on weekends?”
“God no. I was way worse back then. I haven’t gotten shit faced since that party at Baja’s a year or two ago,” you answer.
“I remember that, you threw up all over the backseats of my car,” he laughs.
You cover your face in embarrassment. “Don’t remind me.”
“And remember how I had to carry you in? You were telling me how sad you were to still be a virgin, you asked if Jean from my old gym could do you,” he continues, his laughter only getting louder.
“Stop it,” you say. Your face is so hot, you probably look like a tomato.
Max is about to continue, but a girl comes up to him and laches on to his arm. You don’t know why it makes that unsettling feeling start in your stomach again. You aren’t jealous, he’s like your brother for God’s sake. At least, that’s what you keep having to tell yourself. She gives you a side glance, as if she’s trying to make you feel bad for talking to Max. It almost makes you laugh. She looks familiar, but you can’t put a name to her face.
“You said you’d come swim with me,” she says to him. “Come on.”
Max raises his eyebrows at you before looking back at the girl. “Sorry, just catching up with an old friend. You remember y/n right? We used to go to school together.”
She looks at you again and gasps. “Little y/n? I couldn’t even recognize you, you’ve certainly... changed.”
“Thanks,” you reply. You don’t want to stand here any longer. “I’ll let you guys get back to your swimming, it was nice talking to you Max.”
You give them a smile and turn around, you’re going to try to find Baja and Jake again, hopefully they’re done fucking by now. But before you can even take a step Max grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. You look back at him over your shoulder, the girl next to him looks pissed, he doesn’t seem to care though because his eyes are locked on you.
“How about after this we go hot box my car? You know, like we used to?’ He suggests.
“I’d love to,” you say. The girl looks furious, it makes you happy. “See you in a bit.”
He grins and let's go of your wrist, finally giving his attention back to the girl on his arm. You walk back towards his house, your hearts racing. Since when did Max Cooperman make your heart race? You look over your shoulder again when you’re at his back doors and much to your surprise he’s already looking at you. You quickly look away, what’s going on?
~~~
Max finds you after about a half hour and the two of you make your way into his garage, weed in hand. Thankfully, no one’s in the garage. Even though it’s not your weed, you’d hate to have to share with a bunch of other people. He unlocks his car and opens the passenger side for you, you chuckle and push him away but get inside anyway. He quickly gets in the driver's side and starts to unpack all his stuff.
You watch as he packs the bowl effortlessly. He used to struggle with it to the point that he’d ask you or Jake to do it for him. Now though, he gets it done within minutes. He offers you the first hit and you gladly accept, taking the bowl and lighter in your hands instantly. You light it and take a big hit, passing the bowl to Max while it’s still lit. Your lungs burn a bit, but you don’t mind. You blow the smoke out in one long breath, filling up the car with the stench of weed.
“That’s some good shit,” you say as Max takes his hit.
He nods and hands the bowl back to you when he’s done. “Stole it from my dad, he’s gets it from some high end dealer.”
“No shit?” You say before taking your second hit.
“Yeah, it’s great.”
You blow out the smoke for a second time and hand the bowl back to him. “I already feel it, God damn.”
“It’s pretty strong, you should wait before taking another hit. Unless it’s a small one. I’d hate for you to throw up in my car again,” he replies. You scoff and push his shoulder, making him break out into laughter. You can’t help but join in.
You feel fantastic. Perfect even. You let your head fall back against the headrest, your whole body feeling lighter. You close your eyes, a big smile on your lips. Max starts to talk again, but you don’t bother listening. You're too caught up in this amazing feeling. He taps your shoulder after a few seconds though and you sigh, tingles shooting throughout your whole body at the simple contact.
“Y/N are you listening?” He asks.
You roll your head to the side so you’re looking at him. “Touch me again, it feels so good.”
“What?”
“My body... it feels like it needs to be touched. Did you give me like Viagra weed?” You question.
“I don’t know does sativa usually make you horny?” He laughs.
You shrug. “Maybe. I haven’t smoked in a minute. Can you put on the radio or something?”
He nods and puts his keys in the ignition, turning them so the radio starts to play. You sit up and start to flick through the channels before settling on a relaxing song. You sigh and lean back, your head facing Max again. You watch as he takes another hit, he looks sexy doing it. You shake your head at the thought, Max is one of your best friends you can’t call him sexy, even if it’s in your own head.
When he’s done, he puts the bowl down and leans back. He turns his head to you and your eyes meet. Your heart rate increases. He has this look in his eyes, one you never thought you’d see from him. His eyes are so dark, so full of lust. You swallow but can’t bear to break the eye contact.
“Who was that girl?” You ask, breaking the silence but not the tension. “She your girlfriend or something?”
“No, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize her. That was Jenifer, you know, the one who used to make fun of me,” he answers.
“So, why was she hanging on to you like that?”
He smirks. “What are you jealous?”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” you reply, deflecting his question.
“And that doesn’t answer mine.”
You look away for a split second and shrug. “Should I be?”
“I’d like you to be. But she’s nothing, just one of the many girls from this town who’ve suddenly become interested in me after I decided to change up my looks,” he answers.
You feel ashamed. Are you one of those girls now? You can admit, if Max still looked how he did before you don’t know if you’d be having these feelings for him. Part of you believes you would though, just because of how flirty he is, he’s been like that since the two of you met all those years ago. You look down at your lap, not knowing what else to do.
“Did I say something wrong?” He asks after a few seconds.
You shake your head. “No, of course not. I just... I don’t want you to think I’m one of those girls too. I mean am I really attracted to you now? Yes. But I’ve always been attracted to your personality too. I’m sorry, you just are so fucking hot now it’s hard but-”
You’re cut off by Max’s lips crashing on to yours. You forget about what you were saying and kiss him back instantly, your hands moving up to grip his soft curls. The kiss is rough and full of pent-up sexual tension. You part your lips and let his tongue roam your mouth, it makes your body ignite. One of his hands moves down your body, eventually resting on your hip. The other one cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin gently.
He pulls back after a minute and the two of you stare into each other's eyes once again. Your breathing is heavy, your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen. You haven’t been kissed like that in a long time.
“Sorry, I should’ve asked first, but I just needed to show you that you aren’t anything like those other girls. I’ve always wanted you y/n, I just never thought I had a chance,” he explains softly.
You twirl one of his curls around one of your pointer fingers and chuckle. “Oh Max, if you asked me out I most likely would’ve said yes.”
“I didn’t want to ruin the friendship, but at this point since we don’t even talk that much I don’t care. I want you y/n, so bad. Even if it’s just for tonight, even if we never talk again after, let me have you right now,” he whispers.
“I’m yours for the taking,” you reply and before you have a second to think he crashes his lips to yours again.
The kiss is even rougher this time. His hands roam your body freely, cupping your breasts, your ass, everything. You let him pull you over the center console and into his lap, though the two of you laugh at the slight struggle. It’s a tight squeeze, but it works. You straddle him as the kiss continues, his hips grinding up into yours. You slightly moan at the feeling of his bulge brushing against your clothed clit. Your arms wrap around his neck and you hold him tight, the feeling of your bodies against each other sending tingles throughout your entire body.
You break the kiss after a couple minutes to remove your coverup, your bikini now the only thing covering your breasts. Max smirks and lifts his hands up to the back of your neck, pulling the string that’s holding up your bikini until it comes undone. He does the same with the other string and throws your bikini on to the passenger seat. He doesn’t try to hide his stare; it makes your face heat up again.
Before you can say anything, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You sigh from the pleasure it gives you. Your body falls back against the steering wheel, luckily not hitting the horn. You feel his tongue swirl around your nipple, it makes you throw your head back. He moves between both of your nipples for a few minutes before moving on to kiss and suck the rest of your breasts.
“Can we move to the back?” He asks suddenly, his lips still on your skin.
“Yeah,” you answer breathlessly before climbing off him and between the two front seats to get to the back.
He’s too big to climb through, so he gets out of the car and goes through one of the back doors instead. He lays you down on the seats and continues his kisses on your breasts. He trails his kisses down your stomach, your navel, until he’s at the point where your skin ends and your jean shorts start. Your eyes meet his and he gives you a smirk that sends warmth to the pit of your stomach. He unbuttons your shorts and you lift your hips to help him pull them down your body, leaving you only in your bikini bottoms.
He presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, making the wet spot in your bottoms even more noticeable. You move up so half your back is pressed against the car door, mostly to give Max more room, but also because you want to watch him. He sucks on the skin of your thighs, leaving behind a few hickeys as proof. His hands wrap around your thighs as well and he pulls them up so that your legs are bent and his head is now stuck between them.
His hands then move to the two strings on your hips that are holding your bathing suit bottoms in place. He pulls them at the same time until they both come undone, then he takes off your body, leaving you completely naked. His eyes are on yours as he moves his head down and finally connects his mouth to your soaking cunt.
You moan, your head hitting the car door as you throw it back. He licks and sucks your clit perfectly; he’s definitely done this before. When he moves his tongue down to your entrance, teasingly moving it in and out, his nose brushes your clit. Your thighs squeeze around his head, you lift your hips for more pressure. It feels so good, too good. Only five minutes go by and you can feel your orgasm approaching, you pull at his hair.
“Max- you should stop before I- before I cum,” you say, your breath ragged.
“Don’t you want to?” He asks after lifting his head.
“I want this to last longer, I don’t want it to be over yet,” you answer.
He smiles. “Who said it would be over after you cum once?”
Before you can reply he moves his head back down and continues his precious licks. You come undone within three minutes. He doesn’t stop, even as you cum. Your orgasm takes over your whole body, it makes you feel euphoric.
When he’s sure you're finished, he wipes his mouth on your thigh and moves back so he’s sitting on one of the seats. He removes his bathing suit before grabbing your ankles and pulling your body so you’re laid down on the seats. He climbs over you and meets your eyes for the hundredth time tonight.
“Are you on the pill?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it okay if I cum in you or do you still want me to pull out?”
Your stomach does a flip at his words. He’s the first guy to ask that after finding out you’re on the pill. You’ve never adored anyone more than him in this moment.
“You can do it inside,” you reply.
Max nods before pressing his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, it only makes you more turned on. You wrap your arms around his back, holding him close to you as he starts to rub his dick between your soaked folds. You bite down on your lips as his tip rubs against your clit, it feels incredible. But you want him inside you more. He must know this, because he positions himself at your entrance after a few seconds and starts to slowly move inside you.
He starts off with slow thrusts, helping you adjust to his size. Even with his slow pace you can’t help but bite down on his shoulder, the feeling of him inside you making your toes curl. Once you give him the okay, he starts to move faster, and after minutes he’s fucking you hard. You’re a moaning mess, your nails scratching down his back as he pounds into you harshly. Each thrust makes your eyes practically roll back into your skull, they’re so hard, so deep.
The air inside the car is warm, the windows fogged up. You know if anyone were to walk into the garage, they’d see it shaking. You almost scream when he starts to suck your neck, he finds your sweet spot quickly and settles on it. You touch his now sweaty curls and close your eyes, this is the best sex you’ve ever had, you don’t want it to ever end.
“Baby, I want you to ride me till I cum,” he whispers, his hot breath on your ear. “Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
He moves your position so that he’s sitting and you're straddling him, like you did in the front seat. You don’t waste a second to begin moving up, down, back, and forth on his dick, riding him the way you know guys like it. You watch his head fall back on the seat, your name leaving his lips in a voice that almost makes you cum right then and there. His hands grip your ass tight; you love the way it stings.
You kiss his lips, his jaw, his neck, each sound that leaves him a reward. Your second orgasm is approaching, you feel the tightening in your stomach. You hold back though; you want to feel him finish before you. Thankfully, your silent request comes sooner than you thought.
“Just like that, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum,” he mumbles. His eyes are closed and his head is still resting on the seat, you swear he’s the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. “I’m so close- so fucking close.”
“Cum in me baby,” you say, and he does.
The feeling of his dick pulsing inside you is the last thing you can take, you let your orgasm take over too, the both of you cumming at the same time. You’re out of breath but you keep riding him until you’re positive he’s completely done. Once he is, you get off him and fall back on to the seat next to him. You’re sweaty and tired. You open the door next to you and breathe in the fresh air, it’s refreshing.
“Now two of your fluids have been on my backseat, that’s cool right?” Max says to break the silence.
You laugh. “Can you shut the fuck up?”
“Can I not be happy that your vomit and your cum has been where we’re sitting?”
“Please stop before more of my vomit is on your seats.”
“We should go swim, the fireworks are gonna start soon,” he mentions. You look at him and see he’s already redressing. He meets your eyes and pauses. “Unless you want to stay here which is fine too.”
“No, no, I want to go I just need a second, that was a workout,” you reply.
He grins and hands you back your clothing items, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Whatever you want y/n.”
~~~
The two of you are in the pool when Baja and Jake finally find you.
“So, you guys are acquainted again?” Baja asks as she lowers herself into the pool.
You and Max share a look before you answer her. “Yeah, you can say that.”
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lovelybarnes · 1 year
Text
Maybe Later- B. Barnes
Pairings: bucky barnes x reader, sam wilson, thor odinson Warnings: alcohol, bucky is drunk (ooc? Have we ever seen him drunk i watched all of his scenes lol) About: this quote thing. I dont know if i got what i was aiming for. (“marry me” “maybe later”
Three-oh-two glows red in pinched little lines on your alarm, blunt in the darkness of the room and sharp against the pale light the moon manages through margins between your curtains. The numbers are smudged in sleep as you blink awake from what was meant to be a short rest for your eyes, bent and refracted like you’re looking through a finger-smudged window. You could easily mistake it for a dream if your phone weren’t singing loudly from your bedside table.
With a groan, you slam a hand over it, the piercing noise insistent even with your fingers wrapped around its width. You squint against the brightness of the screen, sitting up when you recognize Sam’s contact name in bold white letters.
“Hello?” you greet tiredly, rolling your shoulders as your weariness begins to pass. The rivets of your jeans dig into your abdomen, your casual shirt proves itself not soft enough for sleep, and you pick at the shoulder. The blankets are creased and made beneath you.
“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Sam’s voice comes through rough and curved in a smile you can see through the phone. “Got somethin’ for you.”
You blink at the wall. “What?”
“A grumpy old man.”
“Which one?” An amused crackle smothers the delicate silence. “What happened to twelve? I tried to wait.”
“Someone had a little too much to drink.” There’s commotion from the other side of the line, a joyous yell and shattering. Sam groans loudly.
“Well, Asgardian liquor tends to stir something in our Avengers,” you mumble, scooting to the edge of your bed to squeeze on your shoes, squished and set next to you at the ready.
“You have no idea.” Sam mutters. Bucky’s voice suddenly comes through, distant and too distorted to make out specifics. “Incoming.”
“I have a little one,” you digress, lashes kissing at their edges in your search for the car keys that had been at your hip. 
“Hey, what the hell was that noise--” Sam begins, far away, before he’s abruptly cut off. “Hey--”
“Honey?” Bucky’s voice is loud enough that you wince and pull the speaker away from your ear, catching a glint from your bed. “S’that you?”
“Yeah, darling, it’s me,” you murmur, voice a little honeyed as you hook a finger through the car key ring peeking from behind a pillow.
“I miss you,” his words bump into each other, so heartfelt he can’t get them out fast enough with a heavy tongue. “Will y’come get me please?”
“I’m on my way. Don’t get into too much trouble,” you command gently, jaw against the soft flesh of your neck to keep your phone steady while you pull at your left shoe.
He makes a disgruntled noise. “F’course not.”
“Don’t drink any more, you’re going to have a killer hangover tomorrow as it is.” You step out of your room and make your way to the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor.
“That is not true. My tolerance is,” he hiccups and bursts into a startled laugh, “high. Way higher than Steve’s.”
“Is that true?” You chuckle, stepping out once the doors have parted. 
“Yeah,” Bucky affirms agreeably.
“Interesting. Can’t wait to see how Golden Boy is doing.”
“Not great, but at least he’s having fun,” Sam cuts in, Bucky’s indignance about it muffled over the phone. “He’s going to regret--Barnes, give me a second--he’s gonna regret ever touching the--Barnes, damn it--the stuff. You asshole, you have your own phone--”
There’s a click and then silence, where you’re left staring amusedly at a dimming screen with one foot ready to climb into your car. “Well then,” you mumble, shutting off the device before you set it neatly in the cupholder between the two front seats. After you’ve turned on the engine and begun to set off, you turn mournfully to the clean inside of your car and hope ceaselessly that it’ll stay that way.
You’re only a few minutes from Sam’s house when your phone rings out a familiar bouncy tune you’d had Bucky pick out for his identifying ringtone. It was sweet and melancholy all at the same time, and it had taken him ten seconds and a look at your beaming face for him to label it as his.
His voice is stretched out and mournful when you answer, your name replaced with a rare Baby?
“Hey, honey. Found your phone?”
He ignores you, breathing out a long sigh. “I miss you.”
“We just talked on the phone,” you laugh. “I haven’t even given you a chance to miss me yet.”
He seems to mull it over for a short moment, elongated in his hazy mind. “Are you on your way?”
“I’m almost there.”
“That’s good because I miss you.”
“Do you now?” you hum.
“Steve knows,” Bucky pillars.
“I bet he does,” you laugh. Bucky hums in confirmation. “How much have you had to drink?” you ask. “You even sound a little different.”
“I missed this,” Bucky muses drily. “I love Asgard.”
“You’re going to take that back tomorrow.” You turn and spot the name of Sam’s street. “But it’s okay because I’ll take care of you.”
What follows you don’t expect. Bucky breathes out loud, nearly doleful, coming out static on your end.
You frown. “Bucky? Is something wrong?”
“No,” he sulks, a complete lie.
You don’t bother pushing him when he’s more stubborn than usual and you’re only a voice on his phone. “If you say so. I’m almost there, okay? I’m going to hang up now.”
“Don’t hang up. I want to hear your voice.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” you catch sight of Sam’s house. “I hang up, and you’ll get a lot more than my voice in a minute. What do you think?”
There’s a petulant sigh on the receiver. “What about the wonders of technology?”
“What happened to ‘we did just fine in the forties’?”
He says your name long and pleading.
“You get very dramatic when you’re drunk, you know that? I’ll be with you before you know it.”
“No. No… c’mon, please, dove.”
“I’m pulling in!” you exclaim.
“I don’t see you.”
“That’s not surprising. Seeing through walls isn’t a super-solder ability as far as I know,” you tease, shutting off the engine and unbuckling yourself. You nestle your phone between the soft crook of your neck as you open the door.
You can see Bucky pout through the phone.
“I’m coming in. Stop gossipping about me to the guys, okay?” you goad, coming to a stop in front of the door. It’s only a glance at the doorbell before Sam, bare-chested, appears in the doorway, haloed by light and smoke from his house. You gape at him. “Why are you--”
“Get him out of my house.”
“I’m trying,” you muster, letting him usher you inside. The house is a mess, with Avengers strewn on the couches and cups everywhere.
“Get them all out of my house. Why did I volunteer to host?”
You shrug, shaking your head as you observe the mess.
Bucky says your name from the phone, reminding you that he’s still on the line, but you don’t need to answer once you spy him in a kitchen seat next to Steve, slumped next to him.
Bucky’s face is bothered, his voice echoed each time he says something. Once you’re a few steps behind him, you hang up and slip your phone into your pocket.
Bucky grunts, pulling a face as he stares at his phone, fingers already moving to your contact just when you position yourself close enough to feel the heat of him on your skin. It’s only a moment testament to his inebriation before he turns, furrowed brows softening when his eyes meet yours. His phone clatters to the table, forgotten.
He murmurs your name, kind and relieved in a melancholy shade. Vibranium fingers twine their way between yours.
“Hey,” you whisper. “I found you.”
“You found me,” he parrots softly, pulling you closer nearly on instinct.
Your free index reaches up to brush a stray strand of brown hair from his face, grazing the warm skin of his forehead, and he leans into it, his other hand going up to grab it too.
You can’t help your smile, dipping down to constellate kisses along his hairline. “Ready to go home?”
He hums his agreeance, watching you with honey eyes. When he moves closer to you, Steve’s elbow slides down the table. With a quick swoop, you remove a hand from Bucky’s hold to cradle Steve’s head before it can slam down onto the surface. You turn to Sam in bewilderment. He shrugs.
Carefully, you set him down on the table, awkwardly patting his hair. “Didn’t think Captain America would go down because of alcohol poisoning, but I guess it had to be something.”
Bucky pulls on the hand he’s still holding, bringing your attention back to him.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, crouching to be able to see him better.
He grins dumbly, majorly soft. “You look pretty.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the pleased little swoop of your heart. “You look pretty too, you know that?”
“He knows,” Sam cuts in, near accusing toward you.
“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky mumbles.
Sam scowls. “In my own damn house.” He moves to Steve, draping him over himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, gotta lug all these idiots onto their sides.”
“Okay,” you laugh, “thank you, Sam.”
He grunts in reply, leaving you and Bucky alone. He’s already looking at you when you turn to him again.
“Do you need help getting up?” you ask. He shakes his head but you throw his arm over your shoulder anyway, pulling him to his feet. He’s heavy but at least somewhat steady with your help. “God, Buck.”
“”S all muscle.”
“I know,” you assure amusedly.
The walk only lasts a couple of seconds before Bucky begins to sway. You try your best to hold him up, but are forced to slump into a couch with him when the top of your left knee bumps into one. Instead of helping, Bucky clamps his fingers around your wrists when you move to get up. He’s staring again.
“What?”
“Y’came to pick me up,” he says, as if just realizing it. “All the way here.”
“Of course. I gotta get you home, baby.”
He grasps your hand. “Baby,” he repeats favorably.
You don’t usually call him that, and even in his drunken stupor, he realizes it.
“What’s the time?” he demands suddenly.
“Three? Four?” you assume, preoccupied with sitting up. He’s distracted enough to sit by as you stand, knees bumping into his. “Very late. Or, early, I suppose.”
He inhales deeply, staring up at you with his lovely eyes.
“What’s wrong?” you query immediately, voice dropping to a softer pitch.
“You came for me,” he echoes.
“I did,” you agree patiently. “Wanna stand up so we can get home?”
“I love you.” It’s the most sober he’s sounded.
“I love you too,” you assure, dipping down to hold his jaw between your fingers. A demuring thumb swipes across his cheek. “You know that.”
“I do,” he whispers.
You smile, squeezing him lovingly between your palms, nebulously elated that he knows he’s loved. “Up,” you murmur, pulling on him until he’s just above hovering over the couch.
“Marry me,” he blurts, as if it’s been on the tip of his tongue, words carved earnestly and permanently; overdue.
You smile at him, focused on bringing and keeping him on his feet. Once he is, you take small steps toward the door. “Maybe later.”
“Y’promise?” he’s your hazy eyes when you’re focused entirely on him, cupping the sharp point of a chair before you can bump into it. Clumsily, he pulls open the door, wanting to wait until you’re out first but you don’t let him.
“I do,” you respond as you guide him to your car, helping him crawl in and looping an index around his seatbelt. His fingers interrupt you before the buckle has grazed further than his chest. “Bucky?”
He extends his pinky and stares at you pointedly.
Complying, you curve your pinky around his.
He’s satisfied, letting you buckle him in and watching as you round the car to your seat.
“Thor should come more.”
“We’ll see,” you laugh, starting the engine.
He pulls at the arm nearest to him before you can begin driving, extending his fingers out expectantly. It’s familiar but strange to see from the driver’s perspective. Still, you obey.
“I’m hungry,” he declares, settling in as you drive. “Can we get pizza?”
“Maybe later.”
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kissesfromkiki · 7 months
Text
Enchanted
pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader
word count: 1.3k (loosely edited)
summary?: this takes place after the events of s2 so there will be mentions of what happened then. y/n is a student at stanford, her & conrad share a class so they become study buddies and hopefully more. this will be multiple parts.
part two: here
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You sat staring at your reflection in the mirror after you finished doing your makeup. Your dorm mate and best friend, Leila, was forcing you to go out to a frat party.
You had no interest, but she was insistent. Promised that you only had to go for an hour, and if you weren’t feeling it you guys could come back.
Frat parties had never been your scene, they were always way too loud, too crowded, and nobody was ever actually interested in conversation, just a hookup. Now you’ve had a few hookups every once and while to let off steam. Those felt good in the moment, but you were interested in something with a little more depth.
“Ugh how does your eyeliner always look so good.” Leila calls out from her side of the dorm.
You turn and smirk over your shoulder, “An obsessive need to do everything perfectly.”
Leila lets out a loud laugh.
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The party was loud and over crowded, just like you knew it would be. There were two frat boys currently flirting with you and Leila, and while she was into, you were not. You let your eyes scan the room as you half listen to what they’re saying. Your eyes lock with a pair of blue ones, you recognize the boy from your psychology class. He tips his beer back as he holds eye contact with you. You refocus on the guy in front of you not being able to handle the intense stare. Leila laughs at something so you force some laughter too. The guy you were supposed to be talking to, Brad? Chad? You couldn’t bother to remember his name, was smiling down at you in a way that made your skin crawl.
The blue eyed boy appears beside your little grouping and does the weird bro handshake with the guys.
“Hey do you mind if I steal her real quick, I need to ask her about an assignment.” He nods over at me.
“No problem man, just don’t keep her too long.” Brad/Chad smirks at me as his eyes scan my body.
You squeeze Leila’s arm to let her know you’ll be back and follow blue eyes over to a couch and sit down.
“Sorry, you just looked pretty uncomfortable and I know you could probably handle it yourself, but Brian is someone who struggles with the word no because he was never told it growing up.”
“Well as much as I appreciate the rescue, won’t he just latch onto some other girl.”
“All the girls around here know about his antics, I’ve never seen you around here though.”
“You frequent frat parties a lot?”
“Normally no, but I transferred here this semester and my dorm mate occasionally brings me along claiming it’ll be a good place to make friends. He’s wrong, but it’s nice to get out every once and awhile.”
“Our dorm mates sound like they’d get along.”
He lets out a small laugh and you find yourself enjoying it, “So, have we met before?”
“Not officially. I’m Y/n, we have psy-“
“Psychology together. You’re the girl who asked the question that sparked our debate on Wednesday, you are quite the brainiac.”
You feel the heat seeping into your cheeks, “Guilty as charged.”
“I really enjoyed it, it was nice to see someone so passionate about what we’re learning.”
“Well I didn’t bust my ass to get into Stanford to not put in any effort.”
“Well… I could use that in a study partner, are you maybe interested in something like that?”
“I don’t even know your name.” You shake your head in laughter.
“Shit sorry, that’s my bad. Conrad Fisher.” You take his hand as he held it out to shake. You notice the skin is mostly soft but there are a few rough areas.
“It’s nice to meet you Conrad.”
“You as well Y/n.”
You’re about to agree to becoming study buddies when Leila walks up, “Hey Y/n/n, I know I said we could leave after an hour if you wanted, but things with Dylan are finally getting to where I want them and-“
You cut her off, “Leila it’s fine, I’ll get an Uber.”
“Are you sure? Because I really will go home with you right now if you’re ready.”
As much as you want to take her up on her offer, you just can’t. She’s been hardcore flirting with Dylan for three months in her econ class, this is the moment she’s been waiting for.
“I promise it’s fine, look I’ll even order the Uber right now and share my location with you.”
“Or I could walk you home?” Both your’s and Leila’s heads turn to look at Conrad.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Leila eyes him up and down with her eyebrow arched and a hand on her hip, you bite down a smile at her reaction.
“Conrad, Y/n and I take psych together.”
“Well Conrad, I don’t know you, you’re some random guy at a frat party, doesn’t really look great for you.”
“I’ll admit, a frat party isn’t the greatest setting for your first meeting of me. So how about this, Y/n will still share her location with you, I’ll let you take a picture of my drivers license, and I’ll even tell you what hall my dorm is in. Only if you want me to walk you home though Y/n.”
You know you’ve just met the man, but you trust him. You can’t explain but you feel drawn to his calm energy, it’s probably the eyes if you’re being honest.
“Okay, you can walk me home.”
He smiles softly and goes to pull out his wallet, “Top floor of Aster Hall is where my dorm is,” He passes his drivers license over to Leila and she snaps a picture of it.
“I will track you down like a bounty hunter if Y/n goes missing.”
“I have no doubts about that,” laughter slipping from his lips, “You ready to go?”
You hold up a finger asking for a second, clicking a few buttons on your phone sharing your location, “Alright, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
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The walk back to your dorm goes by quickly, filled with the conversation between you and Conrad. You learn that he’s pre-med but taking psychology for fun because he finds the human brain so fascinating, he’s from Massachusetts, and attended Brown his freshmen year but his mom always dreamed he’d find himself on the west coast.
“Thank you for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem, can’t let anything happen to Professor Leather’s star student.” He teases you, mischievous glint in his eyes.
You scoff while playfully rolling your eyes, “I’m not her star student.”
“No you definitely are. Her face practically started glowing when you started that debate, can’t blame her though, you were very convincing. I’d probably believe anything you told me.”
You look down smiling, his words causing you to blush.
“So… Can I get your number?” Your head shoots up so fast, “So we can set up a study session.”
“Right, yes. Give me your phone, I’ll put it in.”
He passes you his phone, the new contact page open on the screen. You quickly fill in your info and pass the phone back to him, his fingers brushing yours as he takes the phone back.
“Thanks, I’ll text you. Goodnight Y/n Y/l/n.”
“Goodnight Conrad Fisher.”
You’re entering the elevator to your floor when the texts come through.
hey brainiac
it’s conrad
let’s talk tuesday after class about scheduling
sounds good
see you tuesday
Conrad reacts with the thumbs up icon and your heart flutters. You brush it off as a reaction to being showed attention from a man, but you can’t wipe the smile off your face as you fall asleep.
next part: here
a/n: i’m actually really digging this piece and i’m excited about where it’s headed. i tried writing from a new pov this time instead of first person, so lemme know what you think of that. thank you xx
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megantrancyfanfics · 1 year
Text
Shower thrills| Akaza x demon female reader
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Warning: rough shower sex, dirty talk, possession,praise, pet names, spanking, choking, creampie.
⚠️Some themes can be disturbing to some. Read at your own risk⚠️
Tags: @animupiglett
Notes: Thank you guys for 600+ followers it means so much to me I wish I could hug all of you🥺💜💜 but like- last time I looked I was at 500 then I went to finish this draft and I seen a 6 and I was like 😦 but fr thank you it means a lot. I also might make this into a series with some hashira but don’t hold me to it! Thank all of you for waiting on me to post. A lot of things have happened in my life and I’ve been healing. Today I got my haircut and I feel like a whole new person💜
Enjoy💗
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, the warmth of the water from your shower seemed to wash all the stress away. Your head back, eyes closed: this was the most relaxed you’ve felt in days.
When a hard chest came in contact with your back and sneaky muscular arms made their away around you, you let out a gasp. Your lover was freezing.
“Aww darlin did I scare you?” He asked kissing your shoulder.
“No, you’re cold as fuck.”
“Sorry my love, it’s cold outside, and a warm shower with the love of my life sounded absolutely heavenly.” He spoke softly as you turned to face him. Some water bouncing off your chest and splashing him. “How was your day? Did everything go ok at the meeting with you know who today?”
“Yes it did. It was after the meeting that made me stressed out.” You said with a sigh. “Doma kept hitting on me and trying to get me to come home with him.”
“Oh? Is that so?” His voice had a tone to it that sent chills down your spine. This isn’t the first time doma had bothered you, despite knowing Akaza and you were in a relationship.
“I swear if I could kill that man I would. How dare he hit on you.” He let out a sigh., his shoulders relaxing. “You do know you’re mine, right darling?” He asked softly, gently tracing your cheek with his knuckles making you blush.
“Yes, only yours Akaza.”
It started out slow and sensual. Akaza kissing around you neck, collarbone, and jawline, but once his lips met yours, his whole demeanor changed. The kiss rough and hungry. Hands roaming your body like you’re his prey.
“You’re mine. It pisses me off every time you tell me that asshole hit on you. He should know by now that you belong to me. You’re my angel and no one else’s.”
Next thing you know, you’re moved to the side, your back pressed up against the cold tile wall. 2 of akaza’s fingers pushed themselves into your cunt, his thumb placed on your cunt. With each thrust of his fingers his thumb rubbed your clit.
Dirty praises fell from his lips as he enjoyed watching you fall apart over just his fingers. He’s obsessed with feeling your walls tighten against his fingers. The way it wants to keep them inside. He loved hearing your whines and whimpers as he draws you closer to your high. He can’t help but to kiss your jawline, feeling your chest heave as you let out a gasp.
“That’s it baby let it out good girl.” He praises as he slows his pace as you ride out your high.
“What a good girl. My good girl.” He mumbles against your jaw with a final kiss before turning you around.
A hard smack landed on your ass, a gasp escaping from your chest hitting the cold tile and the force of the smack.
Akaza spit in his hand, giving his dick a few strokes before slowly going inside. A small moan escaped both of your lips when Akaza finally bottomed out. Your pussy being stretched so deliciously.
“It doesn’t matter how many times I ruin this pussy it’ll always feel so good to me.” His movements start out slow, before his thrusts become hard, quick, his only mission is to abuse the tip of your cervix, make you scream his name, and cream all over his cock the way he loves.
Moans filling the bathroom as your voice echoes off the tile.
“Such a pretty voice you have darling.” He comments before another harsh slap lands on your ass.
Akaza could start feeling his mind slip. Your pussy tightening around him, signaling you were close. He was close as well. He wasn’t going to cum this early, no way.
“For a demon you have such a heavenly pussy princess.”
“Akaza” you were able to whimper out before coating his cock in the slick he loves.
“That’s a good girl.” He says, never slowing his pace. Was he doing it to overstimulate you or himself? With each passing moment he feels like he could explode. Even though you just came you’re still clamping down hard on his cock. He’s going crazy. He knows he can hurt you if he isn’t careful. So he tries to limit what he does with you. Yeah, you’re a demon and you can just regenerate or heal whatever Akaza inflicts onto you, but he just can’t hurt a hair on your head.
Eventually, the bathroom is filled with one more voice: Akaza. His grunts and soft moans begin also bouncing off the walls. The grip on your hips tight enough that if you were a mere human they would be broken.
“A-Akaza I want you to cum inside me.” You whimper out, your hips trying to match his thrusts, another high quickly approaching.
“D-don’t speak like that.” He grunts, a hand clasping onto your throat tight enough to crush your windpipe.
You have no idea what has made Akaza like this but you’re not complaining.
“P-please” your able to choke out, akaza’s grip tightening, only releasing when you let out a gasp, air not being able to fill your body, making Akaza quickly remove his hand, landing a slap onto your ass before returning his grip back to your hip.
“Fuck it. Beg for what you want.” Akaza demands, his thrusts getting sloppy as your sent over the edge once again, your voice loud, as you beg for Akaza to fill you up.
“Such a naughty bitch. You’ll get what you want darlin-ah” you’re pushed up against the tile more, as you feel thick, hot ropes of akaza’s cum entering you.
“I-I hope that fucker will be able to smell my scent on you.” He says with a chuckle, turning your back to face him as you tumble forward. Of course your lover catches you. Your head resting on his chest as your legs shake.
“I bet he will..for at least 2 months.” You both giggle, Akaza scanning over your body to see indents on the sides of your neck and hips. He runs his hand through your wet hair.
“Are you hurting angel?” You shook your head no.
Akaza smiled, turning off the water and helping you out before helping you with your nightly routine before the both of you climbing into bed and cuddling.
“Are you sure you’re not hurting?”
“I’m fine Akaza. Those marks will be gone in a few hours. Don’t let those marks make you not be rough on me again. I liked it.”
“I’m so glad.” He says softly before kissing your forehead.
As he closed his eyes, he analyzed what you had just said, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he looked down at you.
“Y/n! You dirty girl! Maybe you’re more of a demon than I give you credit for.”
End
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konigsfavwife · 3 months
Text
You’re mine
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This is part 2 of traitor !!
Part 1
Summary: how could he do that to you? Surely you wouldn’t happen to get with his best friend to get under his skin…
Draco Malfoy x fem!reader // Blaise Zabini x Fem!reader
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: (all characters are 18+) Rough, angry sex, slight praise, degrading, slapping, chocking, humiliation, bathroom sex. fake relationships, Draco being a little shit. Draco being toxic and possessive. Draco being nice during the end, so like bipolar
Authors note: I really didn’t know how to end the last one so I js decided to make a little part two also like I’m not the best at writing smut so bare with me
Song: So It Goes… - Taylor Swift.
Dress - Taylor Swift
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After that mess with Draco you ran in the hallway until you ran into blaise, bumping your head on his hard chest. “Ow..” you huffed looking up at him. “Jeez sorry..” he huffed a little, looking down at you. “You okay? Your eyes are red and puffy” he said to her, putting out his hand to help you get up. “It’s fucking Draco and that pansy bitch! Right after he broke up with me not even a day later he wants to go and fuck around with her and forget about me!” You grumble, you head starting to pound as she slowly standing up while ranting to him about what happened. “Okay okay calm down it’s fine alright? He wasn’t even all that to begin with” he laughed, holding on her arms. “You don’t understand Blaise” you huffed softly. “Y/n listen to me. He isn’t worth everything in this world, especially not your heart. If he wanted you that bad he wouldn’t be fucking around with pansy. She ain’t even good looking” Blaise shrugged, a little smirk on his face. “Glad we both agree on something” you laughed half ass. “Y/n listen to me, I understand you both been through so much stuff together but maybe it’s time to let him go I mean he’s a Malfoy” Blaise laughed. “Damn isn’t he your best friend?” You laughed at Blaise’s comment about his friend. “I mean he’s alright but what he did to you wasn’t” Blaise shrugged. “Well now I don’t even have a date to the Yule ball” you huffed, looking at Blaise. “Go with me then maybe we can like fake date or something just to get him heated” Blaise asked. “Excuse me?” You looked at him confused “we both know Draco y/n. He hates whenever you were seen with someone else, let alone his best friend. Come on it’ll be fun” Blaise laughed. “Blaise are you playing with me?” You laughed, not being able to believe his offer. “I’m being serious!” He laughed with you. “This is ridiculous” you laughed again, looking at him. “Not I’m not opposed… “ you giggled a little. “Well isn’t that just perfect.. try to look your best tho okay? I really want to get under his skin” Blaise smirked at you. “Yeah yeah whatever..” you laughed. “Well the balls tomorrow night, remember what you agreed with.” He smirked at her before walking away.
The night of the ball
You had fixed your makeup and your hair curled down your back. You were wearing a white satin dress with pearls and white stones adoring the dress, it snugly hugged your curves in the best way possible. Your heels slowly walked down the stairs trying to spot out Blaise. While walking down it seems as all the attention was drawn to you. As you slowly walked down you saw multiple people stop and turn to the stairs, watching you walk down. But the person catching your attention was Draco, of course with pansy beside him in some short blue dress. Your hair bounced gently against your back as you found Blaise amongst all the people, your heels kicking against the floor as you walked over to him, a smile plastered on your lips. “Well don’t you look handsome” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek softly. You two had grown closer since the day you two dumped into each other and thought you two had to make is as realistic as possible. “Talk about me… Merlin love look at you..” he smirked, looking you up and down, checking you out. You laughed softly as you looked around the room, in the corner of your eye seeing Draco staring at you. “Here let’s walk inside” Blaise smiled and handed you his hand, accepting it with a smile as the both of you walk into the balls main area. “It looks beautiful in here” you smiled softly, looking at the scenery around you. “I know.. hogwarts always goes out for these balls..” he smirked. “Well I’m glad they do it, it always amazes me at how beautiful hogwarts can really be” you smiled, holding his hand gently then letting go. “Seriously” Blaise smiled to you as a slow dance already started to play. “Care to dance love?” Blaise asked, holding out his hand to you with a damn smile on his face. “I’d love too” you giggled, taking his hands and walked over to the dance floor wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his hands on your hips, slowly swaying to the soft music playing. As you laid your chin on his shoulder while dancing you couldn’t help but feel as if someone was starring at you. You quickly looked around as Blaise twirled you around slowly, seeing Draco starring deep into the back of Blaise as he stood beside pansy. You continued to look as he moved his gaze to you causing you to look away quickly. “He’s staring so hard it’s scary..” you whispered to Blaise with a little laugh. “Of course he is. Your fucking stunning” Blaise whispered as he slowly twirled you around again, dipping you.
After a while of dancing with Blaise and the occasional stare between Draco you had decided to sit for a little since your feet were starting to hurt in your heels. “I’m honestly having such a good time Blaise” you smiled as you looked over at him. “I’m glad you are, you deserve a good time.” He spoke calmly “how’s your night been hm?” You asked Blaise honestly wanting to know. “It’s been good, but I feel as if I’m getting starred at the whole night” Blaise laughed. “The feelings mutual” you teased “guess we both know who that is” Blaise shrugged. As you looked around to see everyone around the ballroom you couldn’t seem to spot Draco, thanking he just went to his dorm. “Hey I’m gonna go use the bathroom, I’ll be back!” You told Blaise, getting up and walking out of the ballroom into the hallway.
going to the bathroom while not realizing you just bumped into someone. “Oh excuse me” you said to the person without looking up. “Y/n..” you hear a deep voice call out. “Going out to the ball with my best friend huh?” You heard the voice call out knowing it was Draco. “Leave me the hell alone I don’t wanna talk to you.” You grumbled, trying to walk past him. “Not so quick.” You heard him say as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a bathroom, hearing him mutter a locking spell. “Draco what the hell? What is up with you!” You yelled at him, tugging away from his grip. “You think you could just get with my best friend right after we broke up huh? You think so you fucking whore?” Draco sneered, pinning you up against a wall. “You broke up with me!” You shot back, but being stuck between his strong arms.
“Still. I didn’t hook up with your fucking best friend now did I huh? Oh wait I guess you’re just a play thing people use when they’re bored, swear to Merlin all you are is a fucking slut. Only for someone to use as they want.” Draco grumbled as he locked his lips with yours. Your eyes widened for a moment then closed as you felt Draco’s hand wrapped against your throat, not completely chocking you but definitely making his strength known. You quickly fell into the kiss, your body falling limp as he harshly kissed you. Some time after he parted lips with you, looking at you for a second then started to spin you around to where your back was facing him, quickly unzipping your dress as he watched closely. “Good fucking girl already knows what to do.” He groaned as he watched the dress fall to the floor in front of him.
As you turned around back to face him you could see Draco looking you up and down with hunger in his eyes as if he was staring down prey. He smirked as he motioned you on your knees, obeying you got down on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with those damn eyes you always used to get what you wanted. He smirked to himself as he grabbed the top of your hair, watching as you undid his belt, throwing it Merlin knows where as you unbuttoned and unzipped his black slacks pulling them just below his knees as you palmed his erection though his boxers, him to groan, throwing his head back. “You know what to do you fucking slut.” Draco groaned as he looked down at you. You quickly pulled down his boxers to his ankles and slowly ran your nails up his legs to his thighs and up to his v-line. You fluttered your eyelashes as you slowly started to inch closer to his cock. You smirked to yourself as you looked up at him, his eyes hazy. “Come on I know you can do it.” He groaned, pushing your head closer, not wanting to wait. You rolled your eyes and put your mouth around the tip, slowly sucking it as your other two hands wrapped around his base, slowly pumping him. “Listen to me, I’m not in the damn mood for this shit.” He groaned, grabbing the back of your head and pushed your mouth deeper making you take more of him the farther he pushed. Your eyes widened as you started to choke on him, your eyes glossing with tears as he continuously pushing your head back and forth making you gag as he continued, your hands in his thighs crying to stabilize yourself. He threw his head back and groans left his lips. “Such a fucking slut aren’t you huh? Merlin I’m fucking close keep doing that baby…” he groaned as he went faster, your mascara dripping down from your eyes, ruining your makeup. “That’s fucking it…” he groaned his mouth open as he groaned, spilling his seed into your mouth. “Eat it. Don’t leave a damn drop.” He demanded as he moved your head back, allowing you to actually breathe. You nodded quickly and swallowed his seed, opening your mouth to show that you did just as he said. “That’s what I like to see.” Draco laughed half ass you he picked you up by your arm, pressing you up against the wall. “Your fucking mine? You understand that? You are mine. Mine to use as I want.” Draco sneered as he grabbed your cheeks with one hand, forcing you to look at him. You nodded. “Use your words.” He ordered, slapping your cheek. “Yes…” you mumbled. “Yes what?” Draco rolled her eyes, slapping your cheek again, leaving a red mark. “Yessir…” you whispered softly. “Good girl.” Draco smirked as his available hand slowly moved to your chest, slapping your boob once. You jumped a little as you looked at him. Draco chuckled to himself as his hand then slowly slid down to your stomach, then to your panties. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” Draco asked. You nodded quickly as you felt a slender finger play with the hand of your panties. “Spread your legs.” He ordered, his mouth latching with your neck as his hand slowly slid into your panties. You spread them open slightly as his fingers gently touched your bud.
“Draco…” you whispered softly, her head hitting the wall behind you as he sucked a purple hickey onto your neck. “You’re so fucking wet for me..” Draco purred as his fingers slowly slid through your slit, hovering over your hole as his middle finger slowly slid in. “Dra…” you panted as you felt his finger slowly enter. “Can feel how fucking wet you are. Cant wait for her ex boyfriend to fuck her real good.” Draco purred into her neck as he sucked on her neck. “Mhm..” you whispered softly as his finger curled inside you. “Please Draco…” you whimpered softly. “Please what? Use your words.” Draco purred as his middle finger slowly went knuckle deep. “Please fuck me…” you whispered softly. “That’s my girl…” Draco hummed softy as his middle finger left your hole causing you to whine from the loss of the feeling. Draco smirked, putting his ring finger and middle into you again, feeling your walls squeeze against his fingers. “So fucking tight as if I haven’t ruined you already…” Draco purred into your neck as he kissed your neck. “Please… I’m close…” you whispered, feeling him curl his fingers inside you. “Come on…” Draco purred as his pace was faster. “So close…” you whispered as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. You moaned as you felt your orgasm hit, leaning out head back into the wall behind you as Draco let you ride it out. “Good girl…” Draco hummed, taking his fingers out of her panties and saw a ring of white around his two fingers and put them to her mouth. “Suck.” Draco ordered. You nodded quickly and started to suck on them, tasting yourself on his fingers. Draco smiled as he felt your tongue suck up on his two fingers. “Such a little slut aren’t you?” Draco laughed. “Mhm…” you mumbled as you continued to suck. Draco shoved his fingers down your throat with a smirk as his other hand slid down your body so play with your tit, slowly tracing your nipple, leaving it aching. Draco then removed his fingers from your mouth and slapped your cheek, kissing you hard. His hands left your body and moved down to your panties, taking them off and throwing them to wherever his belt was. Draco hoisted you up to where he was holding you as your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands going into his hair gently tugging out it and earning a groan out of his mouth. “Damn..” Draco groaned. “So fucking pretty all fucked up by me..” Draco purred as his lips attached to your neck as his cock slowly slid into you. “Fucking hell…” you moaned out as you felt him slowly slip into your tight aching hole. Draco grunted as he closed his eyes, breathing heavily on your neck as he slowly pushed himself all the way in slowly starting to move you up and down on his cock. “Feel good?” Draco purred into your ear as he picked up the pace. “Mhm…” you mumbled softly, your back scratching at the brick wall behind you. “Merlin fuckin’ love how damn tight you are.” Draco groaned as he bounced you up and down. “Hell Draco…” you whimpered softly, her head hiding in his neck as her tears ruined her mascara, it running down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. “Gonna make you forget all about Blaise. Only mine. You’re only mine.” Draco groaned as he went faster, that same familiar knot it your stomach tightening. “Swear wanna cum in this tight fucking pussy. I bet you want that you slut.” Draco groaned as your nails dig into his shoulders as you placed your forehead on his. “Look at me.” Draco demanded. You slightly opens your eyes and looked at him, your eyes hazy and tired. “Close…” you mumbled quietly. “I know baby… be a good girl and wait until I say so..” Draco sighed out as he continuously bounced you up and down. “Please..” you whimpered tiredly. “Let go..” Draco sighed softly, gently kissing your cheek. “Merlin…” you whimpered as you felt your body shutter as you laid your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you fell asleep.
“And to think I hated you…” Draco sighed to himself as he slowly walked over to the sink and placed you in the counter still naked, taking off your makeup. “What am I doing with my life… Merlin I love you so fucking much.” Draco said to himself as he whipped your makeup off. He kept you on the counter as he looked for something to put you in so you wouldn’t have to put the dress on again. He found his blazer he wore and grabbed your panties and put them beside you. He smiled as he found his boxers and pants, putting them on them putting on his belt and his white button up dress shirt but not bothering to fix his hair. “Get up..” Draco whispered softly, kissing your forehead. “Just have to get you dressed than you can go back to sleep..” Draco whispered softly as he started to put his blazer on you, it being just big enough to cover you all the way. “Stand up..” Draco asked softly as he picked you io and placed you on the ground, sliding your panties on. You stumbled slightly but then laid your head on his shoulder, falling back asleep. Draco sighed slightly as he walked over to your dress and picked it up, carrying it while helping you walk out of the bathroom. Draco sighed a little as he realized it was hard to make you walk so he just decided to pick you up bridal style. You mumbled something as he picked you up but your words were incoherent because of how tired you were. Draco walked the halls of hogwarts then walked into the slytherin common room. Draco walked into a separate room that wasn’t the dorms tho because his dad made sure Draco got his own room and didn’t have to share with anyone. He walked into his room with you in his arms and dropped you on the bed. He put your dress down in a chair he had and started to change. He changed into a simple pair of pajama pants and a black shirt, grabbing an extra shirt for you to wear. He walked back over to his bed and removed the blazer he put on you and threw it over with your dress, not really caring as much for it. He put the shirt on your body and laid you back down, covering you in the black comforter he had on his bed. “Good night y/n.” Draco sighed as he was already feeling bad for the way he treated you. “I love you so fucking much…” Draco sighed as he sat down on the side of the bed. He turned to look at you sleeping peacefully, knowing he fucked up choosing pansy over you. He sighed as he laid down beside you, facing away from you.
The next morning you woke up in a bed, knowing it wasn’t yours. You yawned softly as you sat up noticing that you weren’t in your pajamas either. You were in someone’s t-shirt. You looked beside you and saw platinum blonde hair. “Draco.” You said out loud. “Mm..” Draco groaned, trying to go back to sleep. “Draco I didn’t think you would actually…” you mumbled as you slowly stretched. “What?” Draco sighed softly. “I didn’t think you would do all this for me.. I mean we aren’t dating anymore…” you sighed as if she had forgot what happened in the bathroom. “Y/n listen. I fucked up big time. After I got with pansy I couldn’t stand her. She wasn’t you. I want you. Not her. I don’t know if you’ll forgive me of leave I just wanted you to know I’m actually so sorry for what I said to you. But since your dating Blaise an all that I understand if you wanna leave.” Draco sighed as he propped his head up in his hand as his elbow rested in his pillow. “Draco…” you stammered, looking at him with wide eyes. “Me and Blaise weren’t dating… i did it just to get under your skin… Draco I love you..” you sighed. “So you wanna maybe get back together…?” Draco mumbled as he sat up. “Please…” you laughed a little. “Merlin I love you.” A little laugh escaping his lips as he kissed you.
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spctrsgf · 1 year
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the attack
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summary: marc was no stranger to a rough fight. but what happens when one fight is a bit too much?
word count: 1.4k
warnings: language, descriptions of blood/wounds/death, marc has a panic attack, angstier than i wanted tbh but
a/n: this was supposed to be fluffy but it turned out so dark i'm sorry idk what happened
another a/n: i want to note that everyone's panic attacks look different, and i tried to factor in what ive seen from moon knight and my own experience with panic attacks to write marc's
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He had to get home.
He had to get home, and fast.
His hand came to rest on the bricks of a building beside him as he heaved in a breath, instantly regretting it as sharp pain sliced across his abdomen. With bleary eyes, he looked up to meet the window of a car that held Steven. “Mate, you’re not looking great–” Marc waved him off. “I’m fine, Steven. I just have to-” he shoved himself off the wall with a grunt of effort. “Get home.”
“Please just call y/n.”
“No,” Marc huffed, his patience and energy to argue with Steven wearing painfully thin. “I’m fine.”
“Really?” Jake snorted from a window to his right. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Fuck off, both of you.”
“Please, Marc-“ Steven tried to placate.
“I can do this by myself.”
“I’m not sure that's a good-”
“Steven!” Marc yelled, exasperated and tired. “Stop.”
The man’s only response was to duck his head with a solemn glare.
“Spector—“ 
The said man whirled on the window. “You too, Jake.”
Jake went to say more, but instead decided to put his tongue back in his mouth and prepare to take control instead.
Marc’s jaw clenched in short victory, and he moved his focus to walking. Only two more buildings. He told himself. His eyes darted every which way in a sort of frantic habit, shoulders tense in his vulnerability. Shoulders tense in the knowledge that if he were to be attacked right now, he wouldn’t make it out alive.
Deep down, he knows that Steven is right. He should call you. He’s aware that you won’t judge his strained words, won’t do anything but get to him as fast as possible. You’ll leave the engine running in your beat up Honda, dash over to where he’d since crumpled onto the ground, toss his arm over your shoulder and haul him into the car and then to your shared apartment, careful to avoid his bloody limbs from touching anything. You’ll patch him up and put him back on his feet, just like you always do.
But– something holds him back tonight. Maybe it’s the blood from the cut that seems to be too deep, something that the suit should have protected him from. Maybe it’s Khonsu’s lying words that ‘it’ll be a quick one tonight, worm.’ Maybe it’s the fact that he let the man’s words get to him, let them crawl under his skin and make a permanent home in his brain. 
Marc Ssspector.
He shook his head, trying to stop the memories before they started.
I heard about your childhood. Tragic, really.
He was nearly there now, maybe a building or two away.
Your brother’s death must’ve cut you deep, knowing that it was your fault. 
He swallowed down his panic.
And then what? Your brother dead, your mother abusive, your father nothing but a shell of a man.
His hands started to shake. Not good, not good, he told himself, he cannot be having a panic attack right now.
No wonder Khonsu wanted you. How easy it must’ve been to take a trainwreck like you in, to make you do all of his dirty work. 
Marc’s breaths became labored as he tried to shove down his pain, both wound and the sharp ended words.
But did Khonsu ever really want you at all?
Marc’s eyes fell to his feet in frustration and in shame. 
Did Layla ever really want you at all?
All he had to do was move his right foot up and forward. Why was it so hard?
Did y/n ever want you at all?
His vision swam with tears as he let them fall down his face, angry and sad and panicked. 
Does anyone ever really want you at all?
He fell to his knees, letting out a yelp of pain.
It was at this moment he realized he might be dying.
He’d done it twice, and he could do it again. It seemed probable. At the moment, being free of his mind and his pain was sounding increasingly appealing. No more guilt, no more trauma, no more Khonsu, no more people taking his heart and shattering it on the floor. 
But as he feels his head go light and his vision rim with white, the only thing he can think of is you. You and your bright smile and perfect eyes and the way you got him, the way you were always there for him and his alters. Steven and Jake too met the front of his mind as he thanked whatever was out there that brought him such amazing people to surround himself with. 
– ✮ –
When Marc came to, he wasn’t in that boat he’d been on with Steven nor was he met with the dirty ground of the street outside his apartment building. No, he was in a bed, his bed. Which meant he was home, in his house. Which meant–
You came strolling in then, and he drank up the sight of you like a man who’d been starved of water. You were wearing one of your typical comfy Saturday outfits, when you’d sit on the couch and write or doodle while he watched some sport lazily, your head on his shoulder and his heart in your hands. Your eyes met his, and they all but softened as he watched you recognize that it was him. You were by his side in a second, holding him down by his shoulders as he tried to sit up. “Don’t do that, Marc, you’re still healing.”
The events hit him like a truck. Being hurt, the man, Steven telling him to call you, the attack, blacking out.
“How am I alive right now?” Was the only thing he could get out of his mouth as you sighed. “From what I know, Jake took over and called me. I managed to get you to the hospital because I didn’t think I’d be able to patch you up,” you sucked in a breath harshly, and Marc’s hand met yours with a squeeze of support, of sorry. “I was so scared, Marc. There was so much blood and even Jake was barely managing to get his words out–”
“Hey,” He winced, but still moved his hand to cup your jaw and grab your gaze. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
You snorted. “Shoulda thought about that before you tried to walk home while bleeding out of your fucking abdomen.”
“I thought I could get home.”
“Yeah, good going on—“ you stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath and recentering your mindset. “I’m sorry, Marc. I’ve just been worried about you and everything that happened, and I couldn’t do anything about your wound and sitting in that waiting room— which felt like an asylum with how white it was— for what felt like years for the doctors to help you was the most anxiety inducing thing I’ve ever experienced. But it’s okay, you’re fine, I’m fine, everything is gonna be fine.”
Marc’s thumb brushed tenderly across your cheekbone to catch fallen tears, brows knit in worry. “You’re right, I’m here.”
“Please,” your voice was a whisper as you lent into his hand. “Please never do that to me again.”
“I won’t.”
“Please, I know it's hard to ask for help. I know real well from experience that it’s hard. But it’s worth it. It’s worth it not to watch you attached to whatever the fuck they put you on in the hospital, not to collapse onto the ground a block away in excruciating pain. Right?”
“Right.” Marc nodded.
“I love you.” You said those words as if you could lift any of his worries and insecurities and carry them into the sky above.
“I love you too.” His hand slid to cup the back of your neck, pulling you down to meet his smiling lips.
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romanreignseater · 11 months
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Press Play Pt. 3 The Finale
Roman Reigns x Black Female! OC (Xena)
Rating: 18+
Warning: Smut, rough sex, choking, and a special surprise!!!
“Being the girlfriend to a famous divorced father of 5 wasn’t your plan at 26 years old. You trusted him with your life, so you agreed to film a little something, but now you regret ever meeting him when your whole life is exposed.”
A/N: It’s practically the next day for some of us, but I’ve just been having a lot of sleepless nights and very mentally tired, but I feel way better. Thank you guys so much for being patient ❤️❤️!!
GIF: @jeysuso
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The ride to the private jet was excruciating, but the actual flight itself was horrid. It was nothing but uncomfortable silence and the sounds of each other breathing.
Even though, your feelings were still hurt you couldn’t help but to gawk at the man you once loved, or still loved.
You were so confused, yet so infatuated by him and everything he’s done.
He brought back his infamous tracksuit and slick back bun. His legs spread apart and his manhood on full display.
“Take a picture it’ll last longer sweetheart.” Rolling your eyes you weren’t here for Roman’s antics. “You know all about taking videos and pictures huh?!” Scoffing, Roman smirked and quietly laughed to himself.
“You’re never gonna let it go?! I’ve apologized and did everything humanly possible to make sure you were safe and your reputation wouldn’t suffer.” You crossed your arms and legs, looking away from him.
“I came back to SmackDown on Friday and the crowd chanted cam boy. I left, headed to the parking lot, and the fans could only say is ‘We Want Xena.’ Chanting for you, people coming up to me asking why did I do you like that and she made you so happy.”
Breathing heavily, your eyes were glued to the night sky. “Xe… look at me when I’m talking to you.” His voice gruff and low. Tears began to well in your eyes, not wanting to feel trapped by his trance. He sighs and gets up from his seat.
You winced and whimpered in the corner as he walked closer to you. Bending down at the side of your seat, he placed his hand on your thigh. “Xe, look at me baby.” Tears fell down your face as you mustered up the courage to look him in his eyes.
Something you haven’t done in weeks.
“There’s my pretty girl.” You lightly smiled. “I promise you I didn’t mean for any of that to happen, I wish I could take it back everyday. Please forgive me and let’s enjoy this vacation.”
Thoughts coursed through your head, not knowing what to do. “Ro… let’s just get to Bora Bora with doing this right now.” Nodding his head, Roman placed a kiss on your cheek and sat back down across from you.
The first couple of days in Bora Bora were actually pretty good. Roman was an absolute gentleman, never mentioning the situation or your relationship once. He really spent his time gently taking care of you and all your needs.
Yet, you couldn’t bare to sleep in the same bed as him. He slept in the living room of the villa, while you slept in the bedroom. He would come in to check on you and use the bathroom. His scent wafting the room, that warm musk and driftwood called your name. But, you just couldn’t.
Waking up, you didn’t get your usual wake up call from Roman. Smelling and hearing the sounds of bacon, you rise from the bed and head to the kitchen. There he stood shirtless, sweatpants riding low leaving little imagination as possible. “You like what you see huh?!” Blinking profusely, you stood dumbfounded.
“I made your favorite mama. Waffles and bacon.” Walking up to the island, you sat on the stool accepting the breakfast he made for you. He pours you a glass of orange juice and watches you eat.
“Do you like what you see weirdo?!” He laughed, enjoying your snide comment. “I love what I see baby, I’ve loved what I’ve seen for a really long time.” Looking down, you continue to eat your waffles. Hearing his footsteps trail closer to you, you duck your head down even lower. He stands next to you, body on full display and heavily breathing by your side.
“Baby look at me.” “I’m good no thanks.” You stand with a mouthful. He pulls your chin in between his fingers and brings you both face to face. “You know I hate when you ignore me.” Your breathing heightened, not planning the next words that came out of your mouth. “Then do something about it.”
His eyes darkened and his grin widen. “There’s my girl. Get your ass up on this counter.” Following his instructions, you placed your on the counter shoving your breakfast aside. Roman immediately grabbed your waist, standing in between your spread legs. “I know you missed me.” Rolling your eyes at his remark. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
“With pleasure.”
Your lips intertwined as if they never left each other. He grabbed your perfect round ass and grind against your clothed cunt. Your arms held his thick neck and never let go. You both began to take off each others clothes, which was little to none.
“I fuckin missed this baby, please don’t leave I’ll never let this happen to us again. Please forgive me.” He said breathlessly as he kissed my lips. “Okay… I trust you.” Roman gave you the biggest bear hug, tightly squeezing you and never letting go.
“I gotta be inside you now mama, I can’t wait.” He gently pushed me back against the island and I propped myself back up on my elbows. He slid my panties down my legs and stuffed them in my mouth. “Don’t get it twisted baby, I still wanna hear those screams.” My legs shut in anticipation, but he quickly spread them apart.
I heard a low “fuck” come from his lips as he admired my wet lips covered in slick. He bit and licked his lips as he pulled apart your lips to expose your bundle of nerves. Roman blows onto your clit, causing you to shiver. He gently licks a bold stripe up your clit, stopping at it to suck it into his mouth. His giant lips encase your clit and his tongue swirled around it.
Your moans muffled by your panties, but still audible. “I’m sorry mama, I just had to get a quick taste. I missed that shit.” Spreading your legs wider, Roman got the hint. He quickly removed his boxers, showcasing all his manhood. Your pussy clenched around nothing, already feeling the effects of his cock without it even being in you.
Roman circled his cock around you clit and swiftly entered your cunt. You moaned loudly and nearly shrieked as the sheer fullness of his dick. “Shhh baby, I got you.” Tears ran down your face as you haven’t been dicked down in a minute.
Roman’s hands wrapped around your throat as he hovered above you. His dick slowly, but surely began to pound your cunt. His balls slapped against your winking hole as he picked up the pace. The wet and hot feeling of his dick absolutely massacring your pussy led you to sob.
“That dick so good, I got your ass weeping. Take that shit baby.” You screamed as he brutally abused your cunt into oblivion. Your tits bounced up and down to the rhythm of his strokes. Your legs were soon placed on the island next to you head and he didn’t skip a beat. “OH MY GOD, I’M GONNA CUM!!” You yelled through your panties. “Let’s do it together baby.”
You both reached your highs and Roman then hit you hard and deep strokes and ensuring all of his cum stayed lodged inside of you. He stared you dead in your eyes and shocked you. “Marry me.”
“What?!”
“You heard me, marry me. I love you with all my heart and the main reason why I wanted this trip in the first place was to propose. When you left me it was the worst time of my life, I couldn’t bare to sleep in my bed alone, go to dinner, hell even brush my teeth alone. I wanna do all those things with you and more forever and ever.”
He pulled out as you both moaned at the loss of fullness. He walks to his bag on the living room floor and pulls out a box. You arise from the island and he stands in between your legs. He opens the box and a beautiful opal diamond ring stunned you. “What do you say baby, be with me forever.” Tears began to flood your face and chest.
You nodded your head while laughing and crying. Roman began crying as he put the ring onto your finger. Sniffling, “It’s perfect and it’s my birthstone.” “What can I say, I know my girl.”
Yes he did…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END.
Thank you all for being on this little journey with me, I hope to write an even bigger story like this, but I wanted to test the waters. Love you all and thanks for being so supportive and patient with me 💝💝.
MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harmshake @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse
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batteryeatery · 1 year
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asking denji to hit you in bed
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cw: MINORS DNI f!reader, aged up characters, hitting, kinda dom Denji, he’s trying to be mean bc you ask him to be!! But he’s a sweetie pie at heart 💔, you collapse in doggy, denji’s rlly strong like he lifts you a bit, choking, creampie, 2.3k words
THANK YOU @akicore for sweet and helpful beta reading !
m.list & prev denji smut: study session
Bdsm is no foreign concept to Denji. He’s seen all kinds of porn, just, hitting has never really been in his arsenal of kinks. He’s certainly never tried it—no girl has ever asked. Then again, no girl has ever sat him down to talk about their interests before sex, period. You are by all means a first. That’s why, when you finally do let him know that you want him to get a little rough in the bedroom, Denji is completely dumbfounded. 
“Try hitting… you?” 
“Yeah! I’d be super into that! Or even choking.”
“Dunno if I…” Denji trailed off as he processed your words. “Even choking??” 
You’d buried your face in his shoulder. 
“Only if you’re comfortable. And I promise I’d tell you if it was too much! Please can we just try…?” 
Next thing you know, Denji’s body is hovering over yours, tugging down a bra strap while you catch your breath from his sloppy kisses. You’re hot all over, you’ve been aching for his dick all day and you’re ready to start begging for it if you have to. But then you get an idea… maybe if I get kinda bratty instead of begging, It’ll make Denji smack me. 
“Hurry, Denji!! Get this thing off me. You’re taking too long!” 
He furrows his brows and starts undressing you with haste, ripping your familiar front-clasp open then grabbing your tits in his rough palms. He’s just doing what I say instead of—your thoughts are cut off when his lips find your cleavage, kissing hungrily before laying his tongue flat on your skin and dragging his way to your nipple. 
“Ngh. Denji-“ You thread your fingers through his hair when he starts sucking your nipple exactly how you like. 
You try getting mean again, hoping he’ll put you in your place, this time tugging his hair hard. 
He only whines and moves to your other nipple, trailing one hand down your tummy. 
“Denji,” you pant, “you can be… less sweet.” 
Oh yeah. This finally reminds him of your conversation–you’d asked him to get rough. 
So he rips himself from your chest and tries to solidify his resolve, grabbing your wrists and slamming them onto the mattress by your head. He tries to look tough. 
“You were… you were pullin’ my hair too hard just now.” 
You beam up at him, looking all giddy. Denji’s heart squeezes, she’s really into this. 
He releases one of your wrists and smacks one of your tits, light and quick like he’s getting it over with. 
Your mouth falls open at the little slap sound—it didn’t hurt one bit. You let out a giggle at his restraint and Denji bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from giggling too. Okay, this is a start, you tell yourself. 
You wiggle the hand that’s still being held down, pretending to struggle. 
“M’really sorry, Denji! Won’t happen again— I got too excited!” 
He starts to smile for a second before catching himself and putting on a mean face. “Yeah, it better not!” 
He releases your other wrist to grab your breasts again, this time more forcefully. You whine as he pinches one of your nipples, letting himself get rough. Then he’s quickly moving his hands down, pulling your underwear, but you keep squirming. Denji frowns at you and pinches your thigh. “Stop movin’.”
You give in to the theatrics, crying out “Ohh I’m so sorry Denji. So sorry, sir!” 
Denji smirks. He kinda digs the ‘sir’ thing. Maybe this whole dom business isn’t so hard. He successfully tugs your panties off and slides his fingers through your folds, spacing out when he realizes how soaked you are. 
“I’ve needed you so bad, sir.” 
“Can tell,” Denji mumbles. “S’messy.” He brings his dripping fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. Then he’s struggling to keep his composure—he wants to be a stone cold dom for you, he really does! But the taste of you on his tongue makes him feel like he needs to worship instead of exploit. 
You pout at him, “Want you to fill me up please!” 
Denji has to remind himself not to immediately give in. He brings his lips next to yours, pulling away a bit when you try and kiss him. 
“You’re… bein’ needy.”
He kneads your hip while he talks, grinding his boxer-clad length against you. He feels like a hypocrite; he’d usually fold right away at your words. 
“But I really do need you, Denji.” 
Then Denji’s lips are meeting yours again, almost biting as his thrusts turn more desperate. You can’t help but move your hips upwards to meet his clothed strokes.
“Nuh-uh,” Denji grunts, forcing himself to stop, a new idea forming. 
Suddenly he’s flipping you onto your stomach, giving you no time to adjust before he’s lifting your hips up so you’re on your hands and knees, molding your body into a position of his liking. 
He holds his breath and smacks your ass a little harder than earlier—of course you moan. He exhales in relief at your reaction, smiling a dimpled grin that you can’t see. Maybe this is a form of worship too. 
He hasn’t prepped you one bit, something he’s usually pretty meticulous about, but in the spirit of being rough and trying new things, he figures it’s okay to try forcing himself in without the usual routine. So while he sits on his knees behind you, he tugs down his boxers with one hand and reaches with his other to slide his fingers through you again, rubbing your juices up to your clit and circling it slowly. He loves the sticky sounds it makes when he touches you, he loves the way you arch your back and lean into him—it makes his already painfully hard cock twitch in his palm.
So he’s rushed when he moves his middle finger to your hole, inserting it to no resistance and curling it inside you—quickly adding his ring finger and then his pointer in an attempt to stretch you out quickly. 
You start rocking backwards. You’re so turned on—you feel safe and relieved to have Denji taking control for you—and you’re certain it wouldn’t take long for you to come like this. But Denji has other ideas. 
“Not yet.” He pulls his fingers out and delivers a harsh blow to your ass, his movements becoming more confident. You yelp and look back at him with a pout that makes his heart race. 
“Could feel you trying to come already ‘nd you’re not allowed.” Denji announces, squeezing your ass where he hit you while his other hand lines himself up with your entrance. Then he adds, “Not till you’re around my cock.” 
He feels kinda silly, pretending to be all rude for you, but he can also admit that there is something sexy about making you submit to him. It’s like a power trip, but it’s made so much better because you want his control, you’re turned on by it. 
So, in a mean dom fashion, once he works the tip in, Denji goes full throttle and slams himself right to the hilt. You have to bite back a scream, always forgetting how big he is till he’s threatening to tear you in half from the inside—especially since he didn’t take his time working himself in like usual.
“Fuck are you okay?” Denji’s hands frantically rub your hips, trying to soothe you but not sure how. 
You want to tell him you’re more than okay, to reassure him that you liked the painful stretch, but all you can manage is a weak mhm and a backwards roll of your hips. “Please don’t stop!” 
Whatever hesitation Denji may have felt is wiped away at those words–Denji begins moving at a ruthless pace. The way you’re squeezing and twitching around him is brain-melting—it makes him feel hot all over. It makes him feel like anywhere but deep inside your pussy is the wrong place to be. 
He’s the one needy for you now—not that he wasn’t before—but now he can’t hold back. It’s a relief that you don’t want him to. He finds himself forgetting the whole dom-sub dynamics, only focused on burying himself inside you and getting both of you off. So he falls forward a bit, dragging his wet mouth on your back with an arm around your tummy while you writhe beneath him. 
Soon he’s thrusting so hard your legs turn to jelly, then you're toppling forward, collapsing from your delicate balance on all fours. Your face smushes into the mattress so hard it hurts before you turn your head, gasping for air. Luckily, Denji catches your hips before they fall forward too. 
“S-sorry,” he pants, “can’t… I can’t stop though.” 
He’s being completely genuine when he says this, everytime he pulls out your pussy seems to suck him back in, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. 
Your responses are incoherent, but Denji thinks he hears you tell him to fuck you even harder.  
Christ. 
So he lifts your hips a bit more, holding your weight so he can angle deeper while you hold the mattress for stability. It feels maddening. Everything’s moving so fast—Denji hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over. He wishes you could see yourself right now, he wishes you could see the way your ass shakes with each slam of his hips, the way your skin squishes in his grip. 
“Fuck you’re so hot.” He can’t help but whine. Neither of you will last.
But, as you’re climbing your high, choking on your own breath and spasming around Denji’s cock, you can’t help but think of Denji being mean again, of Denji slapping you around and taking you how he wants.
“Denji..” you try, struggling to talk with your face all smushed and your back getting blown out harder than it ever has before. 
“Yeah?” 
“Rough.. Like it when you’re bein’ rough..” 
Denji shakes his head to clear it a bit, he’d forgotten about the dom thing again. So he moves based on instinct, grabbing you around your shoulder and neck and yanking you upwards, forcing your back into a painful arch while his big hand remains secured around your neck. He’d wanted to be closer anyway, so this is perfect. He bites his lip as your position shifts the angle of his cock inside of you and you tighten on him again, clearly into his harsh treatment.  
The weight of Denji’s hand resting carefully around your throat gives you butterflies.
“Choke me, please.” you whisper, quiet enough that he couldn’t hear if you weren’t right next to his ear. 
Denji furrows his brows and slows the movement of his hips a bit. This feels forbidden to him— almost taboo. But he’s so close to cumming. Somehow the thought of how wrong it is spurs him on. So then his fingers are tightening, gently applying pressure and resuming his steady strokes. You wheeze a bit and Denji’s hand is swiftly removed, holding you around your chest instead.  
“Are you okay—am I hurting you?” He asks, trying not to moan as he approaches release. 
“No,” you breathe, “but I wan’ you to so bad.”   
Denji wrinkles his nose but moves his hand back over your throat, taking a deep breath before squeezing carefully again. When you hum in satisfaction he starts picking up the pace of his hips. 
It feels like a drug, the way Denji’s gripping you. Your brain is going all fuzzy, and maybe it’s just the gentle ebbing of your air supply, but it feels exactly the way you hoped it would—like you don’t have to do a thing, like your life is in the palm of Denji’s hand where you don’t have to worry about it.
You let your weight collapse in his hold, and Denji must have been prepared for you to fall because nothing changes, he keeps fucking into you and holding you steady—he knows your orgasm is about to hit. 
And his is too, as his conflicted thoughts wash away with your tightening pussy. His hand’s growing sweaty against your throat but he keeps applying pressure, trusting that you’d let him know if it was too much. The trust—that was what he liked about it. He likes that you’re passing yourself over to him, giving him the lock and key to your safety and pleasure all at once. It makes him feel good. 
So when he feels you clamp down around him, twitching and choking out a moan, he’s immediately finishing with you, shooting his hot cum straight into your womb and lessening the pressure around your neck. Then he’s pulling your face towards his, planting a messy kiss on your lips which you struggle to return, while his hands rub all over you, trying to be soothing. God, he thinks you look so pretty right now, eyes lidded and lips swollen, skin dripping in perspiration. You look holy to him—fuck he can’t believe you let him choke you. 
When you both finally come down from your highs, your body is on the verge of collapse, so Denji supports you with his arms while he pulls out, then he’s carefully laying you on the bed. He almost wants to laugh at how limp your body’s become, but instead he slides into boxers and runs to get a washcloth to clean you. Once you’re less sticky, Denji crawls up to snuggle into your chest while your arms wrap around him. 
“So uh. How are you feelin’?” he murmurs. 
You giggle and he looks up to give you a goofy smile. Your hands comb through his hair. 
“I’m feeling like I really hope we can do that again.” 
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pedroscurls · 7 months
Text
Third Time’s A Charm (epilogue)
Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales and Reader (female, second person POV)  Summary: You and Frankie get married. Word Count: 1,809 Author's Note: Thank you everyone for reading this story. It was truly so much fun to write and I also wanna thank you for sticking with me to the end. It’s been a rough past couple of weeks, so thank you for being patient with me. I had this sudden urge to write again... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! (inspiration dress and hair.) Warning: None.
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“Will’s gonna take her, Molly, and Tess to the venue and we’ll meet them there,” Santiago said, walking into the room with Benny. 
It was going to be a very casual and small wedding, held on the beach just right before the sunset. Santiago would be officiating the wedding while Benny and Will would stand next to Frankie, and Tess and Molly next to you. You and Frankie decided not to have a big, extravagant wedding mainly because both of you were already too excited to just already be married. You both decided to just invite the people that mattered most, the ones that had seen your relationship from the beginning. 
“How’d she look?” Frankie asked. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt, tucked into a pair of fitted black slacks. He slid on his black suit jacket and ran his hands across the sleeves, releasing any creases or wrinkles. 
“Amazing,” Benny smiled. “But I mean, she always looks amazing, so–”
“You’ll just have to wait and see, hermano,” Santiago said with a smile. Santiago, Benny, and Will were all wearing the same attire: white button-down shirts and black slacks. The guys didn’t bother with wearing nice shoes since you and Frankie decided to be barefoot while on the beach, exchanging vows. 
“You nervous?” Benny asked.
Frankie shook his head. “Just want to get married to her already. I’m more impatient than anything,” he laughed. “She’s gonna be Mrs. Francisco Morales in a little over an hour and I just can’t wait.” 
Santiago smiled, looking over at Benny and then back at Will. “She said the same thing.”
“I just wish Tom was here to see it too,” Frankie said with a sigh. “He’d probably say something like about time,” he smiled sadly. 
Benny and Santiago both let out a quiet sigh. “I think he knew that this was bound to happen anyway. Besides, Tess and Molly will be there too.” 
“I know,” Frankie nodded. 
“You got your vows?” Santiago asked.
He smiled. “Didn’t need to write them down.”
“Seriously?” Benny said with a shocked expression. “What happens if you forget what to say?” 
“I won’t,” Frankie said with a nod. 
“You gonna speak from the heart?” Benny asked.
“Exactly,” Frankie replied. “She’s all I ever wanted, Ben. It’ll be easy to express the love I have for her.” 
Santiago and Benny smiled. “Alright, lover boy. Let’s get you married,” Benny said. 
Frankie ran a hand through his hair as he wiggled his toes in the warm sand. The sun was starting to set, casting a perfect sunset along the water. The waves were low and quiet, crashing against each other as Benny and Will stood next to him. Santiago was facing the aisle, reaching over to rest a hand on Frankie’s shoulder. 
“You deserve this, Frankie,” Santiago said. 
Benny and Will smiled in agreement. “Are we gonna get to see you cry?” 
Frankie rolled his eyes, but answered truthfully. “I guess we’ll see.” 
Molly and Tess were standing across from Frankie and the rest of the guys, flashing them an excited grin. It still felt unnatural not to have Tom here, but being there for each other helped; time did too. 
Then, everyone’s gaze shifted and so did Frankie’s. He felt his breath being taken away at the sight of you. Your hair was braided in an updo, several strands of curled hair just falling from your face. Your dress had subtle ruffles towards the ends of your dress with an accentuated v-neck in the front and back, as well as sheer, laced sleeves. The warm orange tinge of the sunset casted a glow and the soft winds that swept past you made time stand still as Frankie watched you walk towards him. 
He felt tears sting his eyes; he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be able to get to marry you. 
“She’s beautiful,” Benny whispered. 
“Lucky sonofabitch,” Santiago teased.
Will chuckled and looked over at Frankie who was captured by your presence, just like always. 
“What did I do to deserve her?” Frankie whispered quietly, bringing a hand to wipe away his tears. “I’m never letting her go.” 
When you saw Frankie, you felt your heart beat faster and the butterflies fill your tummy. It was like you had fallen in love with him all over again. Frankie rarely dressed up, but when he did, he always left you speechless. His white button down shirt was tucked into his black slacks, paired with a black suit jacket. 
Your eyes were locked on his as you continued to walk towards him. Frankie had always looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on and even now, with tears in his eyes, he was still looking at you like you were the only person in this world that mattered to him. 
As you reached Frankie, he held out a hand for you that you eagerly took. You stood in front of him, holding both of his hands in yours.
“Hi,” you whispered.
“You’re absolutely beautiful, hermosa,” Frankie replied. 
You blushed, squeezing his hands as you forced yourself not to lean in to give him a kiss. “And you look handsome. You gotta dress up more often,” you teased.
“As long as you’re happy, I’ll do anything for you.” 
Santiago smiled and interrupted, “Well, let’s get you guys married.”
“Thank you for doing this, Santi,” you smiled. 
Santiago nodded with a smile and began speaking, watching as you and Frankie kept your eyes solely on each other. It was a fitting end to your story with each other. Of all the tribulations, the ups and downs, the things you both had to go through to get to where you were now, Santiago was the one person who was glad to see that it all worked out. He knew that when he set you and Frankie up together that it was a match made in heaven… And even despite the couple of breakups, Santiago always knew you both would work your way back to each other. 
He could see the love written all over your features, the love you had for each other, the hope and excitement of what the future would bring. 
Santiago said your name, watching as you looked up at him. “Do you have your vows ready?” 
You smiled and nodded, turning around to grab the paper from Tess. You unfolded it and kept one hand holding Frankie’s as you began to speak. 
“Francisco, no one has ever made me feel the way that you do. You’ve always been my safe place… Being in your arms, in your presence, is something I’m always going to want. And the amount of love I have for you just grows more and more each day. I promise to always be by your side, even when things get tough. I promise to always fight for us, for you, and for our relationship.” Tears pooled around your eyes and you released Frankie’s hand to wipe at your eyes with a tissue that Tess gave you. 
Letting out a quiet breath, you continued. 
“For everything we’ve been through, Frankie, it was all worth it because it led us to where we are now. I can’t wait to call you my husband and to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Santiago smiled and then turned to Frankie.
“And you, hermano?” 
Frankie bit his lower lip and reached up to cup your cheek, running his thumb across your cheek to swipe away your fallen tear. “I didn’t write anything because everything I have to say is something I’ve always wanted to tell you.” 
You smiled, leaning against his touch. You turned your head to gently press your lips against the inside of his wrist. “I love you,” you whispered.
Frankie smiled. “I love you so much, hermosa. I don’t know what I did in this life to ever deserve you, but I promise that I’ll always be the man you deserve. It’s always been you. After our first date, I remember telling the guys that I was going to marry you,” he said quietly. “You have always been by my side, even when it wasn’t easy on you and you have no idea how much that means to me.” Tears were now stinging his eyes and it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. 
“There’s no one else I’d rather be with than you. I can’t say that our life will be easy, or that it will be perfect, but I promise you that I will always do my best. I don’t ever want to live life without you and I can’t wait for what the future holds for us. Most of all, I can’t wait to finally call you my wife, hermosa.” 
Frankie tried to lean in to kiss you before Santiago cleared his throat, causing him to pull back with a quiet chuckle.
“Sorry,” he said.
Santiago smiled. “We’re almost there, don’t worry.” Then he motioned to Tess, who was carrying both of their rings. You turned around and took it from her with a smile, turning back to face Frankie. With both of you holding each other’s rings, Santiago turned his attention to you first.
“Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?” 
You smiled, sliding the ring onto Frankie’s finger. “I do.” 
Santiago nodded with a grin and turned to Frankie, repeating the same words. 
“Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?” 
“With all my heart, I do,” Frankie answered, sliding the ring onto your finger. 
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Morales, you may now kiss.”
“Finally,” Frankie grinned. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. You leaned up on your toes and snaked your arms around his shoulders. 
“Mrs. Morales,” he whispered. 
“Finally,” you repeated, finally leaning in to press your lips against his.
Frankie sighed contentedly against your lips, moving his own slowly with yours. The sounds of clapping mixed in with the sounds of waves and when you pulled back to look up at him, the sun was finally setting, a glow surrounding the both of you.
“I love you, Frankie. You make me so happy…”
“I love you too, hermosa. Thank you for making me the luckiest man alive.” 
“Third time’s a charm, huh?” you teased.
Frankie grinned, resting his forehead against yours. “Third time’s a charm,” he repeated.
Taglist: @harriedandharassed, @tanzthompson, @casa-boiardi. @bitchwitch1981. @painitemoondust, @pedritosdarling, @vanemando15, @kittenlittle24​, @gracie7209​, @your-voice-is-mellifluous​, @mikeyswifie
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